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From: Jennifer Doalfer <doalfer@my-deja.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} A Boating Experience (F/M, Voy), by Jennifer Doalfer
Date: Tue, 2 May 2000 08:10:11 -0400
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THIS STORY IS PROTECTED UNDER THE LAWS OF COPYRIGHT. ANY REPRODUCTIONS,
ALTERATIONS, AND/OR SALES WITHOUT THE WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR
IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED.
This story is one of a series of stories published to
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/doalfer/www. Please also read the other ones, preferably in
the right order. I am very grateful for the proofreading done by my
friend PJ. Comments are very welcome. Jennifer Doalfer -
doalfer@hotmail.com
{ASSM} A Boating Experience (F/M, Voy), by Jennifer Doalfer
A BOATING EXPERIENCE
By Jennifer Doalfer
Copyright 2000 Jennifer Doalfer
I think it is time to dig out one of the old stories from my archives.
This is one of the first stories I have translated from Danish. I have
also added some dialog, as my early stories rarely include dialog,
which tends to make it a bit boring if you don't have the dialog in the
back of your head as I have. (This is a reader request by the way. So
you see - I respond to the wishes of my readership).
When I was 19, I was invited along to a company party, where I met one
of my father's colleagues.. It is my father's company and he always
invited me to company functions. This guy was the sales director, a
very good-looking man who really didn't look the 50 plus I realised
that he must have been. There weren't very many interesting people at
this party, so when this guy (he was actually called Paul like my
husband, but spelt the English rather than the Scandinavian way),
appeared very interested in me, I was quite flattered, and didn't mind
his advances. I knew he was single, had a very nice Porsche, a huge
flat overlooking the harbour area, and was considered something of a
playboy by the other people in the company. When we danced he was
always touching my rear or caressing the curves of my breasts with his
thumbs when his hand rested on my sides during the slow dances. In my
rebellious youth, I probably found it decadent and naughty to have an
affair with an older man, someone who was even working for my father.
I readily accepted his invitation to continue the evening at his flat.
After departing separately for the sake of my father, we raced back to
his flat in his Porsche (no drinking and driving, I was the only one
who had been drinking). I wasn't disappointed as he proved to be
excellent lover, and extremely obliging and nice, so we continued
seeing each other regularly during the next six months.
My story takes place one summer weekend on Paul's boat. Paul had a
sleek 28 foot sailing boat, which he mostly used for racing, but which
was also great for weekend trips. He shared it with one of the sales
managers of the company (whose name was Lars). They had a crew of two
more who sailed with them during the week when they raced in the
evenings at local club races or at bigger ones some weekends. However,
as Lars had been divorced for more that a year at the time, they often
went away for weekend trips. I think they probably went to the local
pubs at the harbours where they moored, to try to pick up some
company. Since Paul had met me, I often spent the weekends on the boat
with him. Lars hinted he would like to come along as he missed his
weekend trips, and also he probably had the right to half the weekends,
according to the agreement they had on the use of the boat.
I didn't mind having Lars along. He was quite amusing, fairly good-
looking, but not very tall. On the other hand he was very muscular and
must have spent a good part of his time working out to maintain a body
like that. In practice it meant that Paul and I couldn't make love.
Or at least Paul didn't think we should because our bunk in the front
of the boat, and the main cabin where Lars slept, was only separated by
a thin curtain (to keep the weight down for the racing). Paul was also
a bit jealous of Lars looking too much at my skimpy bikini and he had
asked me, very politely and nicely, if I would mind not walking around
on the boat topless as I used to. I accepted this for the sake of
Paul. It was, after, all only for one weekend, but I missed the stares
from the sailors on the other boats when we sailed out of the narrow
channel which leads from the harbour to the open water (almost a two
hour sail, or motoring if the wind was against us). That usually had
me so excited that we would find a way of making love as soon as we hit
open water (yes - you can make love and steer a boat at the same time).
Paul and I had compromised a little; he had accepted that I could wear
my very small tanga bikini, where the material is only attached by
strings so that it can be moved to avoid lines. I didn't want to start
getting white areas on my breasts; I was so proud of them, as they were
exactly the same colour as the rest of my body.
That meant there was only the psychological difference between being
naked and not, because the bikini didn't really cover anything. Lars
kept looking at me when he thought that Paul wasn't watching, and I
quite enjoyed his stares. I was very easily excitable in those days,
and the frustration of Paul's Friday night petting session, which I
couldn't really respond to, because of Lars only being about four feet
away, was getting to me.
On Saturday afternoon we had a long tack ahead of us towards the island
of Anholt, a good way out in the open sea.
"Paul", I said, in a sugar-honey voice, "would it make any difference
if I went to lie topless on the foredeck." That was my favourite place
on the boat. Lying out there I was practically hidden by the sails and
sprayhood, and as long as we didn't have to adjust the sails to tack, I
could lie out there without Lars watching me.
"Sure, go ahead," Paul said. "We usually end up talking work back here,
so that would probably bore you anyway".
I grabbed one of the cushions from the benches in the cockpit and made
my way to the front. There wasn't a lot of wind, so we were only
heeling at a slight angle. The sun was on the whole foredeck, so I
would get lots of sun. The cushion would just fit in between the mast
and the hatch, which was slightly open. The hatch was in the forward
cabin, which also had the sea toilet, so when we were sailing we
usually kept it open to air it out. That didn't matter too much, I
could squeeze my body down on the cushion and spread my legs on either
side of the hatchway. I looked around, but apart from a fishing boat
on the horizon there were no other boats about. "A pity," I thought as
I undid the bikini top and tied it to a rope by the mast so it wouldn't
fly away. Turning around I could only barely see Lars and Paul in the
cockpit through the clear plastic panel that served as a window in the
sprayhood. But I knew that if they could see anything at all, it would
only be my head, as the plastic window was opaque with salt from
dried seawater. I realised I should have brought a book, but decided
just to lie down and relax.
It wasn't long before I started to doze and dream. I dreamt that Paul
was playing with me in the forward cabin and that Lars having heard us
joined in. I woke feeling randy and wet. I turned around again to
ensure that neither of the men were actually watching me, and then
pulled the bikini bottom to the side as my fingers found my wet love-
button. It didn't take me long to climax. I was biting my lips hard
not to move too much in case they were able to see any movements
through the sprayhood. As the spasm subsided I moved the bikini bottom
back and enjoyed the last small after-orgasms as I pulled the bikini
bottom up so hard, it dug in between my swollen lips. I hit my head as
I bounced back down on the cushion, exhausted but also nicely satisfied.
I must have drifted off to sleep again. I woke with a start as
something touched my knee. I jumped up, but froze as I noticed it was
Lars poking his head up through the hatch. Instinctively I tried to
move my legs together, but the frame of the hatch was in the way. The
next automatic response was to try to cover up my breasts. It was
futile however. The top was still tied to the mast, and anyway,
anything he had wanted to see he had done so already. I turned around
on an elbow to see what Paul was doing. He was sitting in his
favourite position, leaning back in the corner of the cockpit, steering
with the holding the tiller loosely in his hand. He must have been
able to see me through the plastic window, as he waved at me. The
natural reaction was to wave back, which I did. Then, flustered, I
turned to Lars.
"What do you think you are doing?" I whispered.
"I am pretending to have a rest. Right now I have been to the toilet,
or rather I am pretending that as well," he whispered back with a sly
smile. As he stopped speaking I noticed his eyes leaving my breasts on
which they had been focussed while he had been speaking to me and
travel down my body. As they came to rest between my legs, I realised
that my bikini bottoms were still pulled tight into my crotch and that
in all probability, my still wet and swollen lips, must have been very
obvious. I again tried to close my legs, but as I felt the cold metal
of the hatch frame against them, I realised I might as well give up. I
was also starting to get aroused with the thought of where he was
staring, and I soon felt my nipples hardening. His hand again touched
the inside of my thighs. I was expecting his touch, but I still jumped
as his hand hit the soft skin halfway between my knee and crotch.
Leaning on my elbows, I watched as Lars slowly traced his finger up the
inside of my leg until it slightly touched my swollen lips. I was
getting very hot again. He pulled the material aside and slipped a
finger inside. I could feel the cold air as it hit the exposed spot,
but that just added to the sensation. I knew he had been watching me,
and I had, kind of imagined how I would let him have a glimpse of my
breasts if I could get away with it without Paul noticing, but I hadn't
thought it would get this far, but I certainly didn't mind. He had
pulled my bikini bottom so far down now, that he could move the
material completely away to the side exposing me completely.
I looked around, we were getting closer to the shore, and I could see
other boats in the vicinity, but I didn't think they would be able to
notice what was going on. I lay down on the cushion, spreading my legs
as much as I could. His fingers had found the right spot and he was
systematically rubbing it quickly, building up the fever in my body. I
felt him grip my thighs and pull me all the way down to him, and the
next thing I knew he had his tongue buried inside me. I almost did a
backward summersault as my back lifted off the cushion and I rested on
my neck. I was able to see the sprayhood upside down. I was trying to
see Paul through it, but Lars had pulled me so far down that he was no
longer visible. As I realised that I wasn't visible to him either, I
let go and as Lars hands reached all the way up to my breasts, working
on my exploding nipples, and his tongue was doing an incredible
efficient job on my love button, it wasn't long before the first
uncontrollable spasm started to roll in. As I shook my head from side
to side I realised we were now much closer to land, and a surfer was
keeping up the same speed right next to us. I couldn't see his eyes
because of his surf glasses, but I was sure he was watching, especially
as he kept the same speed and distance. That just added to the
excitement. Lars's hand had left my breasts, trying to hold me down so
his tongue could finish the job. I grabbed my breasts myself, and
while I rubbed the nipples, I kept watching the surfer out of the
corner of my eye, as I finally came in a strong, blinding body-bending
orgasm. I kept rubbing my nipples as the shakes subsided, and when I
finally looked down, I realised that Lars had disappeared. I looked
over at the surfer as I moved back on the cushion, totally spent. I
don't think more that five minutes had elapsed since Lars first popped
his head up. I could almost convince myself that it was just another
dream.
"Jennifer," I heard Paul calling, " that surfer over there keeps
staring at you." I looked over at him, as if for the first time, half
facing him, and I turned around to see Paul standing at the side of the
boat. Lars was at the helm.
"Oh Paul, What do you expect. I don't mind," I said as I waved to the
surfer. He waved back and changed tack to move away from us again. I
turned around to Paul, "It is probably not the first time he has seen a
topless girl on a boat." But it probably was the first time he had
watched somebody getting an orgasm on a foredeck, I thought to
myself. "It is only you being so old-fashioned." I leant up to get
my bikini top, but didn't do anything to hide myself from Paul or Lars
as I put in on and made my way back to the cockpit. Paul looked
confused, as if he didn't know what to say, and chose to leave it at
that. I looked at Lars who looked like a cat who had just licked a
saucer of cream, but then I knew that what he had really licked, was my
cream. I couldn't help laughing to myself as I realised how silly
Paul's concern for Lars maybe seeing my naked breasts was now, in the
light of what he had really seen and done to me.
I have seen Lars a few times at company parties since then, but all
that has happened is that we have exchanged knowing winks when we have
been politely speaking to each other. I have had dreams of having sex
with him on the boat, both with and without Paul being present, and the
five-minute experience on the foredeck has come vividly to my mind many
times. Unfortunately nothing further has ever happened except in my
head. Maybe one day that can become the basis for a new erotic dream
story?
END
Copyright Jennifer Doalfer
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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