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Message-ID: <37344asstr$1026861007@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: sailtwo@hotmail.com (Captain Steve)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 16 Jul 2002 12:14:37 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Key West Passage MF,cheat?swing?
Date: Tue, 16 Jul 2002 19:10:08 -0400
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This story is free.  Permission is not granted to reproduce for
profit.

                            Key West Passage 

Damn she was beautiful.  I couldn't believe something was actually
going right in my life.  Not that I was destitute or anything. But my
relationships with women were--a mess.  No, it must be the wrong boat,
and besides she's married.

I reevaluated my situation. I didn't need this.  Since my latest
divorce, I had met many good-looking women. It's just that nothing
seemed to work with them. I was hoping she would be ugly, so I could
keep my raging hormones in check. I just wanted to sail. As I drew
near, I made out the name on the transom-it was the right boat.  It
was Linda and she was gorgeous.

She stood about 5'4".  Her red hair shone in the early morning
sunlight.  She was dressed in shorts and a blue top.  Her clothes
revealed an athletic almost muscular build, most appropriate for a
woman I estimated to be in her early 40s. As I stopped at the boat,
she turned and a radiant smile and twinkling blue eyes greeted me.

"Hello, are you Chuck?"

"Yes, you're Linda, I assume."

Her strong hand grasped mine to help me over the side.  As she bent,
her top fell slightly open. I had a brief glance at the tops of some
beautiful breasts. There was an immediate reaction in my pants. I felt
guilty of some crime.  I'd  been offered a free ride, and I was
already sneaking peeks at the Captain's wife.

Speaking of Captains, I saw a large body emerge from the companionway.

"So you're Chuck. I'm Steve.  I guess you already met Linda."  His
eyes went from me to her and back to me.  The jealous type I guessed.

Weakly I replied, "Yes."  Not too good a start.

Calming myself, and my prick (and secretly calling myself a "prick"),
I listened to Steve's instructions.  He stood about 6' with gray/blond
hair and, oh who the hell cares what men look like anyway. I ruefully
admitted I was jealous already. Steve seemed a bit older say about 55.
 Was she his "trophy wife?"  Perhaps she would prefer a younger man
like me?

Get a grip, I thought.  That's the end of another of my silly
daydreams.  That's all I need, to get into a mess with a married women
on a boat in the middle of the Gulf with a large, mad husband and
nowhere to run.

I missed most of Steve's safety talk, as I was distracted.  In spite
of my attempt to ignore her, the brief look at Linda's breasts was
consuming my mind. I moved so she was behind me, but she was so busy
that she kept coming into view. Then she bent to secure a line, and I
had a good look at a well-rounded derriere.  Damn, I thought, I had
best get off the boat now.

I didn't.

All I caught of Steve's talk was that he was in charge of sailing, and
she was in charge below.  Fair enough I thought.  I'm a good sailor,
so I knew I would be helpful.

We were on our way to Key West.  After my second divorce, I still had
plenty of money for life, so I quit my job and headed to St
Petersburg.  I loved to sail, but single-handed boating wasn't
something I wanted.  While contemplating purchasing a boat at a
dealer, I mentioned to the salesman that I had never sailed in Florida
and was unsure what type of boat I needed.  He had arranged for me to
sail to Key West with Linda and Steve.  They had had another
passenger, set to sail with them, but last minute emergencies had
caused her to drop out.  They were looking for another hand.

We motored most of the way through Tampa Bay, then set sail on a
course of 175 degrees.  We had a strong easterly breeze, so it looked
like we could make good time with few sail changes.  We had little to
do but sit and chat.

My problem with Linda increased.  Not only was she drop-dead
beautiful, she was also intelligent.  All I had met were airhead women
in the last year.  Linda was so different.  She was equally
comfortable discussing world events, politics and philosophies of
life.  Her eclectic taste in music resulted in jazz, oldies and even
some country and western to coming over the boats sound system. To my
surprise, I learned she was 52 and they had been married for a long
time.

By mid afternoon, it was hot and she changed into a thin shirt with no
bra.  Damn, her breasts looked perfect.  She was a hard worker and
soon broke a sweat. Her shirt turned more transparent. I could make
out her cherry colored nipples. My erection became difficult to
conceal.   Most boating women dress in similar outfits.  Life at sea
leaves little room for modesty, so neither she nor Steve seemed to
notice my problem.

And so, the afternoon passed.  I talked to Linda and Steve spent time
with his new sextant.  After a noon sight of the sun and an hour of
cursing over his calculations, we all had a good laugh when Steve
proudly announced that we were somewhere off the coast of Brazil.

At about 3 P.M. we saw a thunderstorm approaching.  The weather radio
announced that the storm was moving East. Steve altered course West. 
The storm seemed to follow us.

"Linda, grab the wheel, Chuck and I are going to shorten sail," said
Steve.

Steve and I struggled with the main and finally secured two reefs. 
All the while I stole glances at Linda.  She looked like an Amazon
queen although a short one. The muscles in her arms flexed, and her
red hair flew as she struggled with the rising wind to hold course.

We started to furl the jib before the storm stuck.  It wouldn't come
down.  There we were on a pounding boat, the jib out full and the
storm approaching.  Linda was too small to hold the wheel. Steve
relieved her.

"Chuck, we got to get the jib down.  You take the wheel, Linda and I
will go forward to fix it."

"Let me do it," I said.  "I've got some experience with furler drums."
Which I had.

As the storm rose in intensity, Linda and I crept forward.  I admired
her dexterity. I also admired her butt as she went ahead of me.   She
was now wearing a swimsuit bottom and a white button-up shirt.

The plan was that I would lay flat and to fix the jammed jib furler. 
She would sit at my feet and hand over tools. I lay on my stomach and
began to explore the mechanism. I yelled, "screwdriver." Linda fished
one from the sack.  Then, as she was too short, she knelt between my
legs, and leaned forward to hand it to me. As I twisted to look for
the tool, the wind and her bent position opened the front of her
shirt.  Her naked breasts were exposed. They were perfect.

Quickly I lay back and probed the furler.  The problem was obvious.  A
setscrew on a retaining pin was out of place.  A quick twist of the
screwdriver and all would be fixed.  I moved the screwdriver to the
screw.  I placed it in the slot. I didn't twist.

"Now I need a wrench."  Again Linda complied.  I was rewarded with
another picture of perfect red-tipped mounds.  This time I noticed she
only had two buttons fastened at the bottom.  Had they been that way
when we started forward? Had she unfastened more when I wasn't
looking?  Was it the wind?

I again pretended to do some repairs with the wrench.  Did she know I
was faking?  The wind rose even higher, so I decided it was time to
end the situation.  "Screwdriver", I yelled.

Again I was rewarded with the gloriously open blouse.  This time I
hesitated slightly to look.  Her shoulders twitched.  Had she moved
them to give me a better look?  I looked into her laughing blue eyes. 
They revealed nothing.  Was I being purposely teased?

Jib fixed we both began the perilous journey back to the cockpit. 
Along the way, I managed to smash both my shins; I was checking her
ass and nursing another hard-on instead of watching my handholds.

The storm struck with a fury.  Pounding rain, 40-knot winds, gusts to
whatever, and high seas made our life miserable for the next hour. 
Thank god the jib was down, or we would have lost it.   In the midst
of the storm, Linda produced hot coffee and delicious shrimp pasta. 
Wow, beautiful, sexy, a good sailor, excellent cook, a bit of a flirt
and a tease.  What a woman.  I wanted her for my own.  How I envied
Steve.

Speaking of Steve.  He handled the boat in a highly professional
manner.  His long legs stood firm on the deck as he battled the storm.
 I assumed he had a long cock with which he pleasured the lovely
Linda.  I was now so jealous it hurt.  Why couldn't I find a woman
like her?  She was confident in her looks and marriage, yet fun loving
and enjoying teasing and flirting right under the eyes of her husband.
Steve couldn't miss my stupid desires as I was panting like a dog.

Just as suddenly as the storm had come up, it disappeared.  The seas
calmed. We had a light snack at about 8 P.M. Again, the food and wine
were excellent.  Steve set the watches. He would take the first watch
until about 2 A.M. when I would take the wheel. Linda was to be
available to help either of us if we got into trouble.  The night had
turned beautifully cool. She was going to sleep in the cockpit.

I had consumed a little too much wine, my shins hurt and my muscles
were a bit sore from the days exertions, so I was glad to be taking a
rest.  We had plenty of water aboard, so I showered then crawled into
the V birth up front.

I lay with my back to the bulkhead.  Wearing only a pair of sailing
shorts, I pulled the sheet up to my chest. I felt drowsy.   A
half-baked muddled plan formed.  Piracy.  Yes, I could knock Steve
over the head, dump him overboard and abscond with the beautiful
Linda. I would keep her permanently naked. We could sail the world
together?  Why not?

Why not?  It was a dumb fantasy and besides, how did one escape at 5
knots?  I began to nod.  Through half open eyes, I could see the
length of the boat and half way up the companionway ladder.  It was
dark up there.  What were they doing? Again, I felt pangs of
jealously.  I turned off the light and...

The floorboards creaked.  I was fully awake.  The red navigation
lights softly lighted the cabin.  I could make out Linda's small form.
 She was at the kitchen sink repairing her lipstick.  I wanted to go
talk to her but was beginning to feel foolish.

Moments later the floorboards again creaked, and a dark shadow
appeared in my cabin door.

"Asleep?"

"No", I answered. 

"Steve sent me down.  He and I just wanted to thank you for your help
today.  Without you we could have been in trouble with that jib."

"Glad I could help.  It wasn't really that tough to fix." 

"I know," She replied. 

Oops did that mean she knew I had stalled the repairs to-ok, be a
dirty ole man?

"Mind if I come in for a few minutes.  I know you must be tired."

I hoped she didn't hear my sharp intake of breath, "Please do."

The shadow moved to the edge of the bunk and sat on the corner.  "I
think we need some light." She struck a match and lit a small candle
lantern.  A soft, weak glow filled the cabin. "You must have some
extensive sailing experience to have been able to fix the jib in that
sea."
 
I briefly outlined some of my more memorable voyages, omitting the
names of past wives.

As I talked, she stretched then began to unbutton the black blouse she
had changed into.  I kept talking. She kept unbuttoning.  There were
only three buttons.  As I babbled on, she took a small bottle from the
shelf and squirted a liquid into her hands.  The smell of a woman's
lotion immediately filled the cabin.  I stumbled on in my
conversation.

With her eyes fixed upon mine, she listened intently to my story of a
week on the Chesapeake.  (I neglected to tell her that my first wife
and I spent a whole week mad at each other-no sex.)  Her hands slid
under the open shirt and before my amazed eyes, she proceeded to
massage the beautiful globes I'd admired all day.

"Please go on Chuck.  It sounds like a wonderful week."  (It wasn't.)

I searched my brain for more to tell her. Her eyes never left mine.
She replenished the lotion and the shirt partially opened as she
twirled her fingers around her nipples lightly touching each.

"Oh, Oh Chuckie.  You seem to have developed a problem."  I followed
her eyes to my cock bulging right through my shorts and making a small
tent of the sheet.

"Let's hear the end of your story Chuckie.  I do love adventures while
sailing." Embarrassed I began to repeat what I had just said.

As I talked, her eyes again met mine.  I rambled on.  I felt the sheet
began to move.  She was pulling it down as I talked.  Soon the sheet
was at my knees.  The lump in my shorts was exposed.

I ended the Chesapeake story and began a rendition of a sail in the
Mediterranean.  (New wife, still no sex.) I felt a hand on my zipper. 
It was pulling and my shorts opened wide.  I looked down and my cock
was standing free and tall.

I tried to resume my story...

"Shift your hips Chuckie."

I did. She pulled my shorts to my knees.

"Ok, bend your knees."

I did. She pulled the shorts off.

"Chuckie, I think you're too tired to talk.  Just spread your legs." I
did. Linda knelt between them.  "Lie back.  I'll show you a little
relaxation technique I learned as a young nurse, after-hours of
course.  All the guys loved it."

I rested my head against the pillow. A warm hand cupped my balls.  A
second hand encircled my cock and moved up and down.  I was in heaven.
 The world was perfect.  A beautiful woman was masturbating me
and...Steve.  Where was Steve?  I started up and looked over her
shoulder through the dark cabin.

She noticed my consternation and laughed, "Don't worry. Just relax. 
You were so good today.  And remember, I'm in charge below decks."

I relaxed-kind of.  Her nursing training had paid off.  She certainly
knew her way around a hard penis. One hand fondled my balls as the
other varied the length and speed of the strokes. I felt I was going
to go-a moment of panic.  I didn't want this to end so soon.  She
sensed my needs and slowed her hand.

I admired her beautiful red fingernails.  They contrasted so nicely
with my hard shaft.  But I wanted more. I reached and opened her
blouse.  Her naked breasts swayed as she continued to stroke.

I cupped my hands under the warm mounds.  "You wanted to do that all
day, didn't you Chuckie?"

"Yes", I moaned as my fingers felt her hard nipples.

She leaned forward.
  
Her warm, soft, oiled breasts engulfed my hardness.
  
I began to move my hips.

I fucked her breasts.

Her hands moved to hold both mounds closer together to increase my
pleasure.
  
Her head was at my chest.  I could feel her breath on my skin.  A
tongue began to lick.  I felt a gentle sucking on my right nipple.

All the while, her hands gently massaged her breasts as my shaft moved
up and down in the pleasurable hollow.

Pure eroticism.
 
He body rose slightly. One of her hands cupped a perfumed breast. Her
other hand moved the head of my penis to make slow circles around her
left nipple.
  
I was going to go.  I didn't want to.
  
I wanted to fuck her. 
 
The light flickered on Linda's red tipped fingers.  She had released
her grip and was now lightly caressing my cock with her fingertips and
thumb. She was prolonging my pleasure. The veins on my dick extended.
I thought they would explode.
 
An oiled finger slipped further under my balls.
  
Lower it went
.  
She touched my anus. 

I was going to go.  I didn't want to.

I wanted to fuck her.

A shaft of pleasure.

She smiled.

A tingling allover feeling...

My back arched towards those magic hands and soft breasts.

I went.

Repeated spurts.

Wetness.

Pleasure.

Complete satisfaction.  

Linda's experienced hand continued to milk me until I went soft.

I collapsed.

"There, Chuckie.  I think you feel better now." She took a small
towel, cleaned her breasts and then me.
 
"Two A.M. will come early so try to get some rest.  I'll report to the
Captain that all is well below and the crew comfortable."

She stood then glanced at her blouse.  "Oh my, Chuckie.  You stained
it.  Guess I'll have to change. "

Off it came.  Half- naked she stood proudly before me. Pursing her
lips she blew out the candle.

The floorboards creaked as she walked into the main cabin.

I rolled over.

I slept.

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