by Bridy McAvoy
As we kissed, his tongue pressed against my lips, and I allowed it entrance to my mouth. Our tongues met—he was a good kisser and we played dueling tongues for a few seconds before he broke the kiss.
“You’re a very beautiful young woman. I want to see the rest of you.”
I knew he wanted me naked, there and then, and it felt wonderfully old-fashioned to be complimented and treated like this. I guess Mr. Bryant’s very rough treatment on Thursday had sensitized me for a more gentle approach, even though it was from a man who worked with his hands for a living. He dropped to his knees and turned me around to face him, his hands moving to my waist to finish undoing the bottom three buttons on my blouse. Then once it was undone, he slid his hands along my waist, inside the blouse. I shuddered at his touch—his hands really were work roughened and I could feel every callous, every scar, on his skin. I’d felt that roughened skin on my leg earlier, and it felt even better on the very soft skin of my stomach and sides. He pushed his hands up my flanks, pulling the blouse free from my skirt. Knowing what he wanted I slipped the blouse back off my shoulders and let it ripple down my arms, catching it in my hands. Once it was off, I tossed it back into the foot-well of the boat. I didn’t have any spare clothes with me, so there was no way I could let it fall into the water—that would leave me partially naked as we returned across the lake.
I shivered as he looked up at me then planted a gentle kiss on my stomach just above the waistband of my skirt. I knew what he could see from underneath. My bra was thin and lacy—showing as much as it hid—although it did provide the needed support. I was somewhere between a B and a C cup at that age. I grew into these C cup bazookas over the next couple of years, but I still needed the support.
She paused and smiled at me. “You like my breasts, don’t you, honey?”
I winked at her. “And that fabulous tight butt of yours, and don’t forget those long legs.”
“You say the most wonderful things.” She shivered.
“I know, but you were telling me about another man seducing you.”
She swallowed then nodded her head, realizing, I guess, that her intended diversion had failed.
Max went to work on my skirt as I stood there. I had my feet separated for balance as the boat rocked underneath us. The lagoon was calm, flat calm compared to the lake surface outside with its constant wind chop. Here, though, the only thing disturbing the tranquil surface of the water was our movements making the boat rock. Ripples spread out in all directions and then bounced back, creating amazing patterns on the surface as I stood there watching them, letting Max do as he wanted.
It would be my turn to undress him soon enough. I knew I’d be naked by then, though.
With my skirt undone, he slipped it down my legs, revealing the red panties that matched the bra. Also thin and see-through, I knew he could see my thin blonde strip of hair above my pussy, and the way the plump lips showed below it.
“Pretty, pretty. You are gorgeous.”
Without warning, he spun me around to face away from him. I stepped clear of the skirt, and he was obviously equally mindful of the possibility of losing clothing to the lake, so he picked it up and tossed it into the well of the boat. Then, instead of attacking my underwear, he dropped lower and unbuckled my sandals. They too dropped into the boat, and I was barefoot on the deck. The teak boards had been warmed by the sun and felt pleasant underfoot. I knew they’d soon be feeling like that under my bare ass.
He rose to his feet and crushed me against him. Once more I could feel him pressed against my back, his cock hard and even hot through his jeans. I looked down and watched as his hands slid up my stomach, approaching their target. He’d obviously noticed my bra was a front fastener, because his fingers made unerringly for the gap between my breasts. He palmed and cupped them while he used a single deft tweak to unclip the bra, letting it fall open to the sides. A moment later his hands rose further, pushing the straps down my arms, and my bra joined the rest of my clothes in the body of the boat.
I groaned as his fingers found my now naked nipples and he pinched them. His lips found my neck again and I tilted my head out of the way to provide access.
“Take your hair out.”
My hands rose to move behind my head and I slid the two elastic bobbles off and shook my blonde hair out. He took the two bobbles from me, looked at them then chuckled and threw them over the side of the boat.
“Hey!”
“Always give this place an offering whenever you come here.”
“But now I can’t put my hair back up.”
He rubbed up against me, kissing my ear lobe. “I know, sweetie, that way everyone will know you sailed out with me with your hair up, got fucked, and came back with your hair down.”
“Everyone?”
“Everyone who sees you.”
I shuddered, he was right—to me at least. It was obvious anyone seeing me would be able to tell because of that one clue.
His hands left my breasts and skimmed down my flanks. He wasn’t in any kind of hurry. I guess he trusted his sons to look after the yard for him. His thumbs hooked into the waistband of my panties and drew them down onto my thighs. Remembering what one or two of my other lovers had done—keeping my underwear as souvenirs—I bent over as I stepped out of them, and threw them into the boat. One of his hands found the small of my back, holding me in place. I realized I’d presented him with some kind of obscene opening, bent over at the waist, my ass in the air, and with my feet spread apart, my pussy peeking from between my thighs.
For a moment I thought he was going to finger me like that, or worse still, undo his fly and fuck me, but instead he bent down and placed a kiss on my puckered entrance. I almost screamed at the unexpected contact, but he didn’t stay there, extending his tongue and lapping down and around to my slit. My legs couldn’t hold me. I almost came from that first touch of his tongue. When he pushed it between my lips I screamed and thrashed against him. He took his hand from my back, allowing me to straighten up, then turned me around in his arms once more. The boat rocked, throwing my naked body against his clothed one. He kissed me hard, his lips taking possession of mine, his tongue thrusting into me. I could taste my own juices on it, but my arms went around his neck, my fingers catching the little hairs at the back of his neck and keeping him there.
The boat rocked with the ferocity of the way we were grinding against each other, and he broke the kiss and grinned at me. “Time I persuaded my little minx to lie down, before we both go over the side.”
“I guess.”
He turned us both around so I had my back to the prow of the boat then slowly lowered me until I was sitting. I leaned back, stretching out on the warm teak planking, my legs parted, my knees steepled. My hands found my way to my breasts and I pulled on my nipples and moaned.
He stood over me, his shadow covering my face and part of my torso. I looked up and saw him staring down at me. His eyes seemed to devour me, eating up every little detail, from my panting, open mouth to my engorged nipples, and my pink swollen sex. I spread my legs further and he blurred into motion. His T-shirt came off over his head, dropping into the body of the boat, while his hands clawed at his flies. He used one foot to ease the other shoe off, switched to repeat with the second shoe, and then pushed his jeans down. I forced myself not to giggle as he did a little dance between my splayed legs while forcing his jeans and boxers down and off, then shoes, jeans, boxers—everything went into the well of the boat. He was naked, gloriously naked, like me.
His cock wasn’t huge, but it was big enough. I could tell that just from looking. I could see the end of it glistening with pre-cum, betraying his arousal, as if his rock-hard penis didn’t, of course.
Max dropped to his knees between my legs, took hold of my thighs and bent forward, placing a kiss on my stomach. His arms were well muscled—his work kept him in shape—and he pushed and held my legs out to the side with ease. Then he was at my pussy again. I thrust my hips up to mee
t him, rotating my pelvis to give him the best access to my treasure as I could. His tongue lapped up and down my slit, teasing me, almost driving me insane. After a moment he pushed his tongue up into me, then slid his hands in toward the junction of my legs. He used his thumbs to hold my pussy open as his tongue sought, found and twisted on top of my clit.
It was wonderful. Mr. Bryant could eat me to multiple orgasms, and you, honey, you worship me down there. Max was different, more primal in his approach. He didn’t eat me, he owned me. For the next three or four minutes as I came and came and came, he literally owned me. I’d have done anything he said, just to prolong that feeling.
He eventually stopped and sat up a little. I guess he was watching my body jerk around, my legs twitch, and between them my pussy convulse as I slowly came down off the massive high his tongue had given me.
“God, you’re a hot one!”
All I could do was moan. Nothing coherent could pass my lips. I’m amazed any sound, even a moan, escaped, I was panting that hard for breath. Before I could even lift my head, I felt his arms wrap under my legs and lift me up a little. I guess he was rotating my pelvis. Certainly I wasn’t in any condition to do so.
He pushed into me without any kind of preamble—after all, his tongue had got me well-lubricated with that multiple orgasm. Or was it just one long continuous one? I don’t know. I was emotionally floating on the after effects. There was no resistance as his head slid into me, my pussy walls expanding to allow his passage. Before I really knew what was happening, his balls slapped against my skin.
I grunted as he bottomed out, then he pulled slowly back. I felt empty for a moment, and then he slammed in again. I guess I screamed at the sensation, fast and brutal as it was. The teak deck was well polished so I just slid a little, then he pulled me back toward him. I don’t know how he anchored his feet but he must have. If he hadn’t, then I’d have ended up toppling head first off the front of the boat within a dozen strokes.
I was so wet I almost couldn’t feel him as he moved, except I felt empty when he pulled out, and very full when he pushed in. I think I came twice more—it’s a bit hazy, I’m not too sure, but he knew what he was doing. Then his strokes slowed down, became more erratic, and a moment later he pulled out. He hadn’t asked about birth control, so I guessed he was simply making sure in his own way. Just like in a porn movie, he pointed his cock at me as I struggled to sit up and he sprayed his jism all over my breasts. It was amazing. Instead of feeling a man cum inside my pussy or my mouth, I was watching it happen, watching the little hole dilate and then a stream of his thick white ejaculate speared through the air. He must have unleashed six or seven spurts, although the last couple were smaller. All of them landed on me, my breasts, my nipples and my stomach. Mr. Bryant had done it a couple of times too, but I’d had my eyes closed. This time I watched.
He rose to his knees and looked at me.
“Why did you do it that way?” My question was gasped out.
“I forgot to check.”
“Check what?”
“If you were on the pill.”
“Ah, silly. Yes, yes, I am.”
He grinned at me. “Good, I’ll remember that for next time.”
“What do you mean, next time?”
“What—you don’t want some more of what you just had?”
I glared at him suspiciously then smiled. “Maybe.”
“Better than maybe, sweetie. I had you going then.”
“You think it was all you?”
He laughed, then grunted before rising to his feet. The boat swayed dangerously beneath us but he bent down, sure footed on the shiny wood and picked me up in his arms, lifting me to waist height.
“Time for you to get clean, sweetie.”
Before I could react, before I could wrap my arms around him and cling on, I was flying through the air. He’d thrown me off the boat. I landed in a tangle of arms and legs, screaming as I splashed through the otherwise tranquil surface of the lagoon. Let me tell you, that water was fucking cold, really fucking cold. I was shivering by the time I surfaced. It was cold when I dove in yesterday, but I was prepared for it—that day I wasn’t prepared at all.
He stood there laughing. “Swim over to the rock shelf, where the mooring rings are. There’s steps cut into both ends. I’ll bring the boat over to you.”
Panic-stricken visions of me being too cold to make it ran through my mind but I struck out for the rock—it was only about fifteen feet away. Max wasn’t an idiot—he watched me all the way. Only when I was climbing out of the water did he jump back over the windscreen and press the self-starter. The roar of the engine startled me and I almost lost my grip but managed to climb onto the rock. He twisted the throttle open, spinning the boat to point away from me. I almost screamed, thinking he was abandoning me, wondering how I’d even survive, stark naked on a rock in the middle of a lake that was too cold to swim across.
Of course he wasn’t abandoning me. He simply put the boat into reverse as he lined her up with the rock and coasted in almost sideways. Leaning across, he tied the rope in the middle then reached behind the seat and offered me my salvation: a large fluffy towel he’d obviously stowed there before I arrived.
I was shivering and shaking from the cold, but I wrapped myself in the towel, cursing him fifteen ways to the dozen, but he just laughed as he tied off the boat. Finally, he turned his attention to me and pulled my body right into his. His hands immediately started to rub my back through the thick towel. Max was, of course, still naked, and if my wet hair touched him, he didn’t seem to bother.
He rubbed me dry, all over, back and front, even kneeling on the rock to rub my legs and feet dry. His attention to my pussy was delicate rather than rough and I had calmed down by the time my body was dry. At least taking an impromptu bath like that had disposed of all the gunk he’d sprayed over me when he came.
Max turned me to face away then started gently rubbing my hair. Once that was reasonably dry he tossed the towel into the boat and turned me back to face him again, cradling me in his arms, transferring his warmth to me. His cock hung down, hot and heavy against my leg, but it didn’t start to rise again, despite my nudity pressed against him.
“See, I told you I’d look after you.”
“Hmm… So what am I supposed to do about my hair?”
“Don’t worry. I know a comb isn’t as good as a brush, but at least you can get it untangled.”
He held me with one arm, while his other arm dropped. I felt his fingertips brush over my ass, then around onto the front of my thigh.
“Enough.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, pulled my head back and looked up at him. “Yeah, enough.”
“Okay, I guess we’d better head back then.”
Panic flared in my mind and he chuckled at my expression. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you get…partially dressed first. I’ll get dressed too.”
“Partially?”
“I’ll keep the panties as a souvenir.”
I stamped my foot, then winced as the rock reminded me I was barefoot. “You will not, they’re part of a set.”
“Maybe I’ll keep the set then.”
“No.”
“Spoilsport.”
“No, I’m not. Now kindly fetch my clothes.”
“Give me an order like that again and you’ll be back in the water.”
I shuddered. “You wouldn’t da…” I stopped that line just before I uttered the fatal word. I knew he’d take me up on a dare if I’d said it. I really didn’t want to end up in the water again. “Please will you pass me my clothes?”
“Of course.”
I dressed on the rock, he got dressed in the boat, then passed me his comb as he leaned on the windshield of the boat, watching me. I pulled the comb through my still damp hair and managed to make it as presentable as possible. It was, of course, still down—he’d thrown my bobbles into the lake—so I couldn’t put it back in a ponytail.
Chapter Seven – Taking Possession
“Was that all that happened with Max that day?”
She shook her head and took a deep breath. “No, honey, far from it.”
“Let’s hear the rest of it, then.”
“Mind if we take a comfort break first?”
“Of course not, you can lose the bikini too…” She grinned at me but I ploughed on “…as long as you put something else on, something decent.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Just thinking of your comfort, Sam, nothing more.”
Several times in the past she’d complained about chafing from her bathing suits, and it was clear we were going to be a while yet. She’d been wearing that one from the get go this morning and the sun was now setting over the lake.
“Get me a beer while I’m busy, then, honey.”
“Will do.”
I think she timed it as well as she possibly could. She did what she needed and stripped off the bikini in the bathroom. She walked back out of the tiny bathroom as I turned from the fridge, one cold beer in each hand. I couldn’t dodge her because of the counters, and I couldn’t do anything with the beers in my hands. She closed the distance between us with two strides and wrapped her arms around me as tightly as she could, pressing her naked body against me.
“Gotcha.”
“Cheat!”
“Nope, just well-timed.” She giggled then looked up into my face, our lips barely inches apart. “I do love you, you know.”
“I know, and I love you too.”
Knowing I wouldn’t get free without responding, I leaned down a little and let her stretch up on tip-toes and our lips met. Hers were parted, her tongue pressing against mine, but I didn’t part mine. A moment later she squealed in surprise as I pressed the two icy cold beer bottles against the small of her naked back.
