The Literotica Olympics Day 24

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I disentangled myself from her, rushed to the surface, and held on to the edge of the boat, trying to catch my breath, when her hands grazed my chest, underwater, hooked into my swimming briefs and pulled them down, slow and deliberately. I felt my cock armouring immediately, as her lips brushed across it and her fingers rippled across my balls, and then she disappeared again.

I dove after her, but couldn't see her anywhere. When I returned to the surface, her low hum echoed from behind me, and I turned to find her leaning back against the side of the boat, her arms spread along the ledge. Her full breasts heaved in and out of the water with the rhythm of the sea, her long legs beckoned.

'Come closer, famous Odysseus,' she sighed teasingly. 'Moor your ship on our shores and hear our honeyed song.'

As in a trance, I found myself floating towards her, incapable of turning my eyes away from hers. She tilted her head forward provocatively and extended her legs in my direction, stopping me. Sunlight and water glided off her tanned body as she skimmed the soles of her feet gently across my chest, shoulders and neck. I caught a toe of her right foot with my mouth and slowly twirled and teased it with my tongue.

My fingertips traced the curve of her ankle and my lips followed, leaving a trail of soft kisses up her calf, as I tasted her sea salted skin.

She exhaled when I touched her inner thigh. Her body relaxed, pliant. Her legs slid across my shoulders.

My hands followed the shape of her ass to the small of her back and lifted her above the water. The sun gleamed off the tiny droplets that glided through the minutely trimmed strip above her pussy.

I extended the tip of my tongue and ran it just outside her lips.

She whimpered softly. Her thighs hugged me tighter.

I ran my tongue flat along her slit, her puffy lips parting under the slight pressure, and found the hardening protrusion of her clit. I covered it with my mouth, lashed it with my tongue. Her body squirmed and tensed, her back arched, and she let out a deeper moan when I released her clit and my tongue slithered to the entrance of her pussy.

Her scent intoxicated me. I pushed my tongue into her, slowly exploring every texture, every delicate fold, savouring her.

My right arm curled from underneath her body and glided across her toned stomach as my tongue dipped further inside of her, scooping more of her wetness.

She closed her eyes briefly, throwing her head back when my tongue extended to find the edge of her g spot. Her thighs clenched around my head, pulling me closer. Her breasts heaved with every jagged breath as my hand moved across them.

Her juices flowed across my tongue as I suckled on the pink folds of her lips, as I breathed her in, as I felt her pour down my throat and pulse through my veins.

Her body writhed, her hips up thrust.

I moved my mouth again, and caught her clit between my teeth. She quivered, cried out in ragged mouthfuls of air. My tongue lashed across her clit relentlessly.

She pulsed, on the brink. Every muscle tensed, every cell throbbed, faster and faster, and her orgasm came crashing down and wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her body.

I held on to her, running my tongue along her lips unhurriedly. She gasped for air, her body still occasionally shook by a sudden tremor.

Slowly, I let myself submerge and fall from the grip of her thighs, only to come back to the surface even closer to her. I touched her hand, signalling it was safe to let go of the boat, and kissed her lips as she draped her arms around my neck and ran her fingers across my hair. Our tongues met, danced.

Her hard nipples pierced at my flesh when my body pressed against hers and pinned her to the side of the cold hull. I ran the palm of my free hand down the skin of her back to her shapely ass.

My rock hard cock slid between her thighs and she immediately parted and wrapped them around me.

As the head of my cock swam across her clit and eased into her pussy, she moaned deeply and caught my bottom lip between her teeth, piercing my flesh. Her hips pressed forward, her thighs tightened their hold around me.

She swept her lips across mine with her eyes closed, and licked the blood she had drawn out. Her fingernails grazed through my neck and down my back.

With a slow and drawn out thrust, the entire length of my cock disappeared, buried in her pussy.

From her lips, as they brushed my ear, poured moans and soft sighs that played my heart and mind. My body merged into hers. My cock glided in and out of her in slow, rhythmic waves. Her inner muscles pulsed tightly around it, enveloping me in her velvety warmth.

Her fingernails dug trails of blood across my back; her body trembled and whimpered as I slowly fucked her, as I reached further inside her, as she sang the only song I longed to hear.

The Aegean, endlessly playing a toneless symphony, a myriad of micro collisions, meant nothing compared to her, lazily letting the glitter of a sun soaked surface bounce from sky to sea to her to me.


*

SHIP'S LOG
Open 49er | #155 - Team Canada | Charley H., skipper; Rebecca Leah, crew

- Wed 1 Sep 2004 16:55:00 [Final Regatta]
Position: 37° 48.864' N 23° 40.124' E; mainsail and jib; 27.5 kt 21º T

A breathing, living sculpture. That's what Rebecca became with her body at my mercy, bound by coils, intricate patterns, and successive layers of rope that worked together to refashion her form, her poise, her awareness.

Each new layer intensified the overall effect.

She stood en pointe, her limber body set on a delicately strained equilibrium, her legs forced apart by ropes that coiled in layers just above her ankles, weaved over her legs, and hooked to the overhead rig. A different length of solid rope curled elaborately around her waist and left upper thigh, at once accentuating the shape of her ass and providing a breathtaking frame for her pussy, visually balancing the purity of her light pink lips, the gleam of her silver clit ring, and the teasing effect of the small beauty mark on her right labium.

Another rope lay across her rib cage, and past her shoulder blades, carefully wrapping around, lifting, and pinching her breasts. She let out a deep moan when I let the rope slide through my palms, and then tugged and secured the harness with cinching knots that hugged the sides of her body and tied to the rope at her waist.

I smiled from my vantage position at the prow, as I adjusted the main rig, and watched the rope that held her arms slide across the top spreader. It spiralled around her wrists several times, turned around itself, and slid under the binds, in a dynamic arrangement that added an arch to Rebecca's back, forcing that ideal stance. I admired the web I had woven, and glowed in the knowledge that before me stood art at its greatest.

Symmetry, balance, tension. Above all, the feeling of the transcendental wholesomeness of the geometry, of the movement, of the flesh. The ropes flowed, strong and taut, breathed, slacked and stretched in unison with every intake of air.

Completing the aesthetic composition, I released the mainsail and pulled it tight to its full wind position. I could feel my clit pulsing as I watched, in awe, the ropes slide onto Rebecca's yielding flesh. My heart drummed through my veins.

The sun was gently descending across the sky, and its light reflected off the sea to envelop the scene in a warm pink radiance that matched her moist lips. The translucent pane of the sail draped about Rebecca's body, casting the ghost of a shadow across her skin, announcing her new condition of romanticised figurehead at the prow of my ship.

'You're beautiful,' I said in a soft whisper, meaning it.

She closed her eyes, endearingly. Her cheeks blushed noticeably. She relaxed, letting her body be moulded to my will, as it would always have been, with or without ropes in place.

And then, something happened. An almost imperceptible breeze rippled through the sail. My heart missed a beat.

I stepped up to the mast and caressed the mainsail with the palm of my hand, feeling the vibrations. At a distance, I could see light surf starting to form, gaining speed.

Rebecca followed my eyes. A look of confusion and fear crossed her face again, but it dissipated when I turned back to her smiling, and slowly leaned in to kiss her lips. A lingering, deep kiss, smooth, confident, and dominant.

'Don't panic,' I told her, and pulled the jib sail free.

In a fraction of a second, a strong gush of wind inflated it with a loud bang, and Rebecca cried out when her body was pushed forward and suspended in the air. The entire boat sprung into action.

I slid under the boom and quickly hooked the mainsheet and readjusted the four line bridle for the upcoming thrust. The boat was already overpowered. I had to act on instinct. I grabbed a rope from the main rig and furled it around my forearm just in time for the shift of direction. With my body projected to starboard as counterweight, I pulled the cord with all my strength, and released the asymmetrical chute at the optimal moment.

The boat seemed to stop completely for two whole seconds and turn on its axis, and then shot forward to planing speed.

I swung under the mainsail to port and grabbed two other ropes off the main rig to balance the boat, and they slid across the bottom spreader, displacing one of the ropes that held Rebecca's body suspended.

It loosened the stress of the whole composition for an instant, and then the thick nylon rope whipped into place across her pussy. She moaned and her body shook as the rope slid in between her puffy pink lips and a knot pressed directly against her clit.

All the other ropes responded to her motion as a single, organic entity, overstimulating her body with sadistic intensity. As they tightened around her and bit into her soft flesh, her nipples hardened.

In mere seconds, we stormed heading for the gold, past the other teams that were caught off-guard by the sudden windstorm.

The jib flogged with tremendous strength, and the bonds gained added tension that forced the arch of Rebecca's back. Another, more powerful blast, and something snapped on the secondary rig. The rope at her inner thigh slid at high speed, burning across her skin, and then stopped abruptly.

Her loud cry, a mixture of the most acute pain and of incommensurable pleasure, echoed through my body to my clit.

I smiled, straining to control my breathing and heart rate, and felt the texture of the rope I held in my right hand, the tension of each individual fibre. Then, vigorously, I pulled it.

Rebecca's cry came in response, as the rope that dug into her slit glided back across her flesh and a series of knots rapidly slid over her clit, wave after wave crashing into her body, successively bursting and dipping and curling and pressing against the entrance of her pussy and her ass.

Another tug, another desperate whimper. Her body trembled, powerless to stop the cascade of erotic stimuli that overloaded her senses.

Powerless to stop the flow of her orgasm.

Powerless.


***

The Literotica Olympics

12
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18 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 15 years ago
Amazing

Absolute perfection.

lorencinolorencinoabout 16 years ago
Extraordinary

I know nothing about sailing, but am so susceptible to the symphonic variations of your creation. Enjoyable on every level.

AnonymousAnonymousover 18 years ago
Fantastik

Beautiful writing style. Erotic with full meaning for this sailor who has blue water sailed in many parts of the world.

LuciousBi-Writes4ULuciousBi-Writes4Uabout 19 years ago
God Damn Girl

you fuckin amaze me.... you SHOULD be doing this for money FOR SURE!!!

awesome as always... UNIQUE!!

kisses,

T

vogueboyvogueboyover 19 years ago
Umm, Holy Fuck

HOT, HOT, HOT,

Quite frankly Lauren, I am amazed at how you balance the technical with the erotic.

I am still trying to catch my breath. Then again, I am very late in arriving at the Olympics.

... missed my flight, yeah thats it,

Umm, you rock :)

O

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