Annie Rocks the Boat

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Hot wife has not so memorable cruise.
1.3k words
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It was our usual late spring afternoon cruise from Whitesburg Harbor to Guntersville Dam and back. I grabbed a couple of six packs from the Yellowhammer Brewery at Campus 801. We preferred the hoppy taste of their IPAs. With a alcohol content nearly double mass produced beer, these local craft beers lived up to the classic commercial claim of "Great taste, less filling". I headed south towards the river

Dave and Randy had gone straight from work to get the boat ready for our cruise. I spotted Randy's car near the ramp nearest to his boathouse and parked next to it. I grabbed my beach bag with towels, sun screen, coverup and the new bikini I had just bought for use on non public beaches. When I got to the boathouse no one was there. I looked towards the fuel dock at the end of the walkway and saw Randy's cruiser. I yelled to them to go get the beer and cooler from my car. I went back to the boathouse to change as the refreshments were retrieved from the car. I had just pulled my coverup onto my shoulders and was folding my clothes on a bench near the door when it suddenly burst open. Randy handed me a beer and said we would be leaving from the fuel dock and to get my ass down there soon. I grabbed my bag, leaving my clothes still on the bench, rushed to the fuel dock and climbed aboard.

We cast off and cleared the harbor at no wake idle speed. As we entered the Hobbs Island channel Dave pushed the throttle forward to a moderate forward speed. I excused myself to visit the head below. That is when I realized there were only the three of us aboard. Back topside Randy explained that Dot had to take care of some things at her mother's place. I was secretly relieved because the new bikini was a little immodest and Dot was more straight laced than the image she tried to project. As we entered the main channel we picked up speed and discussed the plan for the evening. Since it was not yet three o'clock we had time to spare for the cruise to the Harbor House, a leisurely dinner and a sunset return to Huntsville. Of course these plans could be influenced by wind, weather,current and other unforeseen variables.

It was time to unveil my new bikini. I removed the cover up, draped it over my shoulders and pulled the sides together to present a somewhat modest appearance. I walked forward just past the helm and interrupted Randy and Dave as they were plotting the evening events. I quickly spun around and let the cover up fall to the deck.

"What do you think?" I said.

Randy stared at me and said, "Wow that's something else, but you are going to have to do something about that tan line."

He was right. The tiny patches that made up most of the top barely covered my areolas. The white area between the darkest tan on my torso and the bikini top that closely matched that color spoiled the whole look. There was no time like the present to begin the remedy. I asked Dave to help with the sunscreen.

He replied, "I have helm duty till we reach the dam."

I looked at Randy.

Before I could say anything, he eagerly replied, "Sure".

There was no doubt that there was no question mark was associated with his statement. We took my beach bag to the rear facing deck lounges as I stared at the sun to our west. I handed him the sunscreen and removed my top. He carefully applied a small dab of lotion to his index finger and then transferred it to the target area being careful to keep any from encroaching the area we wanted tanned. We slowed our speed to insure accurate application. In spite of our best effort some corrections had to be made, he would sweep the offending liquid away with his tongue. I asked him to get me another beer so I could have a break from his titillation.

Before I finished my beer Guntersville Dam came into sight. We could see a tow boat pushing two barges into the lock. We headed back down stream and found a still spot in the channel and dropped anchor as I continued my sunning. A little over half an hour later a different tow returned and moored two barges and reentered the lock. He repeated this process once more before we were signaled to proceed to the lock. I hurriedly donned my cover up avoiding any further delays while we were in range of the cameras that the lock master used to insure safety in the locks. Also my breast tingled from earlier teasing and the sun.

As we rose to six hundred one feet above sea level we were over two hours behind schedule and had opened our last beer. Four beers in an afternoon does not sound like a lot, but it was a four hours and they were super strong. We went on at a sturdy pace towards the Harbor House. We decided it was best to have a quick burger rather than a more elaborate meal. We could make it through the locks and the most treacherous water before total darkness.

We had already broken into our onboard stash of rum on our way back to the dam. We proceeded through the lock with no delays. I was tempted to put on a show for the lock master but somehow convinced that it was a bad idea. After we locked through and cleared the downstream eddies we cut the engine and poured another rum. At four miles per hour the trip takes a while.

The rum is the last thing that I clearly remember. The rest of this story was told to me by others present.

I had no constructive contribution to the completion of our journey. It took the combined concentration of Dave and Randy to make our way down the channel and back to the boathouse. We noted the absence of any other activity on this late midweek night. Once inside we dropped the curtain and entered our own private world.

I felt an upward tug on the waist of my bikini. It was not even a real wedgie but I reacted and said, "What do you want me to do?"

Dave replied, It's up to you."

I removed my bikini bottom and asked, "What's next?"

He replied, "It's up to you."

I immediately shed my only remaining clothing, the the long sleeved cover up I had donned below the dam. I moved directly to Randy's massive cock and engulfed it deep into my mouth. It took a few minutes to put him at ease and to prepare him for what was to come. There was a quick fuck one and then the other. Then we would urge each other back to the edge with oral stimulation. We went to the edge and over. I constantly serviced one dick with my pussy while I prepped the other with my mouth. Each man's staying power increased with each successive round. I only occasionally received oral service. We spent several hours with my pussy in constant use. I was finally too tired to continue. No one could remember how long or how many times I was fucked. It was time to go home.

We drove away, Dave and I together and Randy alone.

When we arrived home I insisted on forgiveness sex. I did not remember exactly what had happened, but I knew that we needed it. I asked for details of the night. I learned of my foray into sexual extremes. I was surprised by the description of me atop Randy, riding his engorged member. Dave described how my pussy clung to Randy's cock as I rose. It seemed to stretch away from my bottom as I elevated and dimpled in as I settled back on its length.

I told Dave, "I do not believe I did all of that."

He replied, "Do you want to see the movies?"

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6 Comments
26thNC26thNCover 3 years ago

My fault. I had to see if this story could possibly be as bad as the other I read. It was worse.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 7 years ago
Good effort for a new author.

Hey, it's her first story! Give the new author a break!

Welcome to the nasty world of the commentators of Loving Wives, RottenAppleAnnie.

As of 22 June you have 7 comments. Let's comment on the commentors, shall we?

patillie-- no stories yet. But he knows he's a better writer than Annie here.

Justgr8-- only does "poetry" and allows no ratings, and in his poetry, doesn't understand when to use and when not to use an apostrophe. (First Poem listed, "Chemistry"--1st line-- "autumns" should be "autumn's. 2nd line--"winters" should be "winter's". 4th line--"it's". Should be "its". The wording in this line clearly is NOT, "Lonely heart IT IS kin". Justgr8 should learn how to write and allow criticism before he castigates another.

sigint--no stories yet.

Impo64--no stories yet.

MattblackUK--several stories and here he has constructive criticism.

And 2 anonmous trolls, whom you can ignore, as thst's all the trolls do.

Now my comments. The story is placed in "loving wives", but it is only at the end of the story thst it apears Dave is the protaganist's husband or live-in boyfriend. The readers could use a bit more clarity atthe beginning of who the characters are. Is this her first threesome, or does she do those frequently? Also the story wanders a bit. The stated plan was to go down the river, have dinner and return. It's not clear whether this was done or not. If they did, then what did she wear, as she left her clothes on the bench.

She then states that she doesn't remember anything after the rum, but then proceeds to describe such things as the tug on her bikini bottom, and her removing said bottom and descibes the menange a trois. If the others told her what happened, she should not remember the events as clearly as she described. If she didn't remember, then the story should either go along the lines of, "Dave told me I went to Randy's massive cock and engulfed it . . ."; or she remembers the events.

Mattblack suggested an editor, and it is clear that would be a good idea. The story is sketchy enough to be more of an outline, and needs to be fleshed out, and the inconsistencies worked out.

Keep on writing.

MattblackUKMattblackUKalmost 7 years ago
Would be helped by an editor.

Good choice of beer, though.

SigintSigintalmost 7 years ago
Content Aside

The writing?

You drink very well.

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