Discovering What Big Means Ch. 01

I quickly covered it, only to have the wet material plaster itself so closely to it, that it really did nothing more than change the colour of what he could see; and in that it now matched the raised right one.

To say I was flustered was an understatement. I'd basically just shown him everything there was to see. In part I was mortified, but underlying that was a sense of arousal. I recognised I was ovulating. That was a dangerous time for me. I had form for going a bit crazy and reckless around a man I fancied at that time of the month.

It was three years since I'd had a man. Let's not speak in code. It was three long years since I'd had sex with a man – or any sex least I create any doubt. And he'd been my first, one and only so far. Six months of a beautiful passionate, sex filled love story that had ended with two broken hearts when he had to move back to Sweden and I wasn't willing to follow.

Not that I'd planned to give myself to him when it first happened.

Sven and I had been dating for a month, but so far our physical relationship had been limited to door stop good night kisses. French kisses, and passionate ones at that, but that was all. In my naïve youthfulness, I thought I was worldly, I thought I was in control.

Then one night when my parents weren't home, I invited Sven in for a nightcap; and in my own innocent mind, a pash on the couch where's I'd let him go to second base. He was three years older, more experienced, and simply had different expectations.

To let him reach second base, I hadn't resisted when he started to take my top and bra off; taking off his shirt so I could feel his bare flesh on my chest. Then as Sven had my passions raised by sucking and playing with my nipples, he slid his hand up my skirt, across my panties and through my crotch. It wasn't part of my plan but he was gentle, well targeted and it felt nice. Actually, it felt great. I didn't object.

A minute later and his hand was inside my panties, rubbing my clit. I was highly aroused. Not ever having self pleasured, more aroused than I'd ever been in my life.

OK, I thought, so he had me on third base. No harm in that; it was time I experienced an orgasm. As he removed first my panties and then my skirt, I was aware of my nakedness, but too aroused to feel that was anything inconsistent with a third base experience.

He had me approaching a climax. My legs started quivering in a way I'd never felt before. I couldn't control it. In what, in retrospect, was a rather theatrical manner, I gripped the arm of the couch above my head with both hands; seemingly clinging on for dear life as the whole lower part of my body shook.

As my orgasm overtook me, I let out an almighty groan like moan. My thighs froze as I involuntarily lifted my hips off the couch. I felt him pushing against me, half over the top of me. Not thinking clearly and desiring the press of his body against me, I half tilted myself towards him as he held me around the waist and bound us together. Letting go of the arm of the couch, I grabbed him around the neck and pulled the top half of him against me too; our bodies now in full length contact.

It was only then I felt the presence of his erection between my still spread apart legs. I felt the tip of it surge through my crease and find the warm wet hole that was my aroused vagina. I felt it locate itself firmly there in a shallow penetration.

A part of my brain said no, but the words were never spoken or reflected in my actions. Instead, in my state of arousal, a reptilian part of my body thoughtlessly surrendered to being fully penetrated. As he pushed himself in, my body didn't recoil. It pushed itself back; ignoring the feeling of being stretched as he effortless buried himself to the point our crotches crashed together and I could feel my clit rub against his pubis.

He started thrusting, slowly and gently at first, and then soon with an increasing urgency. With his blood up, he pushed himself fully on top of me; thrusting faster until, with a grunt, his climax exploded and he was left panting with his head down alongside mine.

And so, in a way that was unplanned but unresisted, I lost my virginity. Sven never knew that was the case.

But in the passions of my arousal I knew I'd been irresponsible. I was unprotected in more ways than one and it was 'poorly timed'; which may have explained my reptilian behaviour. Ovulating at the time, my hormonal urges seemingly overrode my brain. If he hadn't, through long habit, sheathed himself in a condom with one hand after he'd exposed himself while he was fingering me, well, the outcome might not have been so benign.

I'd discovered I liked sex; but only in a loving relationship. That one lasted only six short and very passionate months before it came to its tearful end. I learnt a lot. Sven offered what I thought was good, if predictable sex. He always fingered me to a nice climax before he mounted me, but often left me unsatisfied by the way he'd come fairly quickly afterwards – just long enough to get me excited again, but no where near enough to get me anywhere near that much desired second climax. I just thought that was normal; it's what women's magazines told me men did. It was much later I discovered just how quick Sven had actually been. Maybe that's why he was so good at fingering first.

Dating since then had been a drag. I got hit on often enough; that wasn't the problem. I may not be an Amy, but I knew I was no dragon either. But things rarely lasted past the first date. The magic just wasn't there for me – ovulating or not - and I didn't want to raise the guy's expectations by letting things drag on before I brought it to an end.

Now sitting next to Adam, trying to calmly talk about nothing more provocative than sailing on Pittwater, those same reptilian urges were sneaking up on me again for the first time in a long while.

His abs. His chest. His shoulders. His biceps. His thighs. I couldn't get over how hot I was finding him. I was as horney as hell and fighting the urge to touch him. I wanted to feel him on top of me; surrounded by his hard chest and strong arms, his manhood buried deeply inside me.

It was so distracting the way the bulge in his pants stood like an island poking above the water just out from his stomach; washed over by the wavelets, like the ocean itself was trying to tickle him up. Was it bigger? Was he a bit aroused too? I wanted some recognition I was having some effect on him.

When the wake of a passing boat sent a number of slightly bigger waves breaking against my crotch and teasing my clit, I had to bend over forward, scared I was going to come. That's how worked up I was. Had I had somewhere private and a condom, I would have wanted to take him by the hand, lead him there and given myself to him. But the simple reality was, I'd just have to deal with it. Even when we got back to the dock, I wasn't really going to lead him home and seduce him. I didn't work like that.

The whole thing was interrupted by Issie, Amy and Ellen coming along and telling us it was time to go back to the yacht for lunch; Amy and Ellen each lifting Adam up by an arm under his shoulder to make sure it happened.

Being a fast swimmer, Adam got there first. Wanting to swim in his wake and watch his balls between his legs, I got there second; enjoying it even more as he climbed the ladder with me moving under him so the spill of water running down his torso and out of his crotch fell on me.

As I stood on the deck letting the sun warm me, I watched Ned arrive and hang in the water by the platform waiting for others. Ellen was first and I'm sure I saw her cock grope him under the water as she positioned herself for the ladder; his hand on her dripping butt as she climbed the ladder.

Harry and Josh arrived and moved past Ned to come up on deck; moving forward past me and waiting at the companionway for Ellen to emerge with a bunch of towels for us to use. Still I loitered in the sun at the transom; soon joined by Adam who'd brought me a towel.

Then Amy came along. Instead of moving past Ned, she folded herself into his arms; wrapping her legs around his torso at a height that would have seen her crotch sit on his pubis as he trod water. If there was the slightest erection in his pants, it was poking into her pussy. I watched as they chatted intimately for a few minutes.

Normally there's be something unnatural about their age difference between the two of them where that sort of intimacy was involved; creepy even. The stereotype of the relationship might be a slightly patronising, almost indifference, from him; a too eager to please subservience from her. But, as with the rest of the day, I saw nothing of that. I could only see his eyes, and I saw nothing but love. Amy was clearly no innocent passive woman captured by a manipulating, or just rich, older man. Whatever was between them was real and between equals. But I didn't understand where she fitted in with his obvious partnership with Liddy.

It was only later I discovered what was really before my eyes all along. Amy and Liddy were both his live in lovers in a full time threesome. And while they had been travelling the Pacific, Ellen and Issie had been his lovers too, in what I suppose you'd call a fivesome. The sexy bikinis and constant handling of him had been intended to keep him at his sexual peek and had become such a habit, it had survived even Ellen and Issie finding other partners.

After drying off we all pitched in to help prepare the anti-pasta lunch Ned was providing; which led to a crowd of people working in and around the yacht's small galley and moving up and down the companionway steps.

I'd collected a tray of cups from the overhead cabin lockers forward of the galley to bring on deck when I found my path blocked by Amy bent over the icebox with Adam standing behind her, holding another tray onto which she was depositing the food items as she dug them out. Between the back of her admirably cute butt and the front of the bulge in his swimwear was a gap just big enough for me to turn sideways and impatiently slip through; or near enough anyway.

Timing it so that she had her head back down after depositing another item, with an 'excuse me coming through' I turned sideways and tried to crab walked between their bodies; holding the tray over Amy's bent over figure as I bent slightly over her too in the belief that would help me squeeze past the tray Adam was holding in front of him.

"Don't stand up Amy."

I'd overestimated the gap. The front of my bikini pants rubbed across the back of Amy's as I felt my butt concurrently slide firmly across the smooth material covering Adam's bulge. Had I been bi, I would have been in heaven.

They both breathed in; opening the gap a smidgen wider, but that didn't stop the contact, only softened the pressure. It all would have been a momentary bit of minor cheekiness had not, for the third time since we'd been back aboard for lunch, some giant gin palace going at a silly speed down Pittwater, sent a series of tidal waves our way, rocking the boat through a significant arc.

Caught unawares and off guard, mid passing, I was thrown against Amy and then rocked firmly back onto the bulge that was Adam's cock. As the boat rocked my butt towards Adam, I was trying to pivot at my hips to keep the tray I was holding on an even keel; leaving me all but lying bent across Amy's back as my butt rode up over Adam's bulge and forced it deep into my bum crack and towards my crease.

Without any time for recovery, and with both Adam and myself holding a tray that stopped us using our arms to balance us, five times I went through the cycle of crashing against Amy and having Adam thrown against me and then being thrown back onto Adam. None of it was painful. In a way, thrown is the wrong word. We were too locked together to fall about and hurt ourselves; it was more an alternate application of pressure and a fair bit of rubbing. The main trick was to coordinate our pivoting around our hips to keep the contents of both my tray and Adam's where they belonged as the boat rocked violently first one way and then the other.

But there were consequences. If you jamb a woman's butt onto a man's cock and move it about, you're going to get a reaction. By the second roll, even as I struggled to keep everything in place, I could feel the swelling of Adam's manhood was causing it to penetrate further between my thighs; touching up my labia. By the third it was pushed into my crease and rubbing against my clit during the peak of the roll as I was well bent over Amy and all but presented to Adam doggy style. If it sounds sexually provocative, it was; especially in my hormonal state. The clit was well swollen before his cock touched it.

As, almost to my disappointment, the boat finally started to settle down with a series of smaller rolls, the problem of extracting myself was complicated by the hard protuberance between my legs. All I could do was push past it; feeling it bend as my thigh forced its way across it until I had the sense it 'popped' out.

As I escaped, I turned back to them. Adam was blushing bright red. I tried not to stare, but couldn't resist a peek. It was nothing like a full erection (something that turned out to be the understatement of the year when I finally saw one). With the tip someone how pinned facing downwards in his swimmers, it had swollen into a massive semicircle pushing out the front of them; the pressure dragging the waistband down and lifting it temptingly away from his lower stomach; enough for me to see a think base of his shaft and the top of his hairy balls. I felt for him. There wasn't a thing he could do to hide it.

"Sorry guys. My bad. I didn't know we'd get that wave set come through as I pushed past. You OK?"

Amy, still bent over the ice box, just turned her head to look at me...

"No problems."

But Adam's bulge must have caught the corner of her eye. She surreptitiously turned further to cop an eyeful of Adam's front; her eyes widening in a cartoon like double take. A smirk crossed her face as she turned back to the job at hand, muttering..."not for me anyway."

Adam stuttered a...

"Sorry."

"No, all my fault."

I wanted to stay and stare, but that wasn't going to help the situation...

"I'd better take these up."

By the time Adam appeared on the deck, tray in hand, things – cough - had settled a bit, so what had occurred remained a secret between him, Amy and me; although Amy did sidle up to me late in the lunch break while Adam was below cleaning up and whisper out of context and with an assumption I'd know what she was talking about..."God, he's hung like a horse. He'd better be just a shower and not a grower or that thing might give some woman a hell of a surprise."

I wasn't going to tell Amy about my ambition to be that woman. I played a dead bat.

"I noticed."

Lunch went quickly enough and was followed by an afternoon of more practice manoeuvres before we returned to the dock.

I was more than pleased when Adam asked for my phone number as we shared drinks in the club afterwards.

But as predicted, I went home as randy as all hell that night. For the first time in my life, I masturbated. Until that day, I just hadn't felt the need; it didn't really offer what I was missing. But that night, it was exactly what I needed.

The moment I got home, I threw off my top and pants; not even spending the time to take off my bikini. I lay on the bed, stuck my fingers down my pants and, after a brief warm up, went at it like crazy; all while closing my eyes, imagining Adam on top of me on the water's edge, thrusting his manhood into my receptive body.

But even that wasn't enough. To help me imagine him penetrating me, I had to keep sticking a couple of fingers up my vagina; raking the front wall to see if I could find a g spot I'd never felt before, but on that night just seemed to be calling for my attention.

I got my first orgasm by fingering my clit; with some help from the fingers of my other hand down my bikini top working on a nipple. It was a hip raising, cry out loud orgasm, which was better than anything Sven had given me.

But that didn't satisfy me. I was compelled to keep pleasuring myself. Something was still calling from inside my vagina. This time I paid it way more intention. Two penetrating fingers went to three; although that limited my depth of penetration, so I went back to two, while still trying to work my clit with my thumb.

I found the spot I was looking for. A place where rubbing it went from a feeling I wanted to pee, to the most pleasurable, satisfying feeling imaginable. I worked myself into a full storm of orgasmic anticipation, with a sound track straight out of Harry met Sally. My legs started to quiver to the point 'quiver' was no longer a satisfactory word – it was more like an earthquake of shaking.

In my brain's audio visual narrative of Adam making love to me, he delivered three hard thrusts into my body and came with a massive grunt. That did it. An explosion of pleasure spread from my groin throughout my body, leaving me with my head pushed back into the pillow, crying uncontrollably loudly as my hips scribed an arch through the air; seeking to push themselves against a body that just wasn't there.

For about three minutes after that initial rush, I was left helplessly moaning and writhing on the bed; wracked by what I took to be a series of secondary orgasms until I fell into a short petite mort with my hand still down my pants and fingers in my vagina.

I awoke to find myself still penetrated by some very sticky fingers and dressed in a soaking wet pair of bikini pants. I got up long enough to prepare myself for bed; easing myself out of a bikini rendered into a pretty disgusting state by what it had just witnessed. Even the top seemed stained by secretions from my nipples. I left it soaking in the sink, unsure I'd ever be able to wear it again without being affected by the memory of those orgasms, and fell naked back into my bed.

The next day, Amy phoned me at work...

"I was ringing to talk to you about a crew spot on the yacht. Might you be interested?"

"Yes, I really enjoyed myself."

"Good, but I suppose I'd better check you didn't have any problem with the crew uniforms?"

"The blue shirts and hot pants? No, they looked pretty cute."

As I could sense Amy's hesitation on the end of the line, the thought occurred to me the micro bikinis might be part of the deal too. I was right.

"Ammm, what about the blue bikinis?"

Now it was my turn to hesitate...

"Like Ellen was wearing? I've never worn anything that brief...I suppose I could give them a try."

"That's all we ask."

"Where do I buy all this?"

"Don't worry, we provide them."

There followed some brief discussion as to whether I could sail that Wednesday afternoon, and if not Saturday and other matters of an organisational nature.

At lunch I caught up with Ellen to tell her about my discussion with Amy. She was pleased I'd accepted, but I added...

"She asked me if I'd be willing to wear one of the blue bikinis that you had on as part of the uniform. But I'm not really sure when I'd have to wear it."

"'Have to' is probably overstating it. But on a nice day, we're generally wearing them when we're preparing the boat for undocking and after we get back. But it depends on the weather."

"Why does it make a difference?"

"Well, initially it was just the way we were constantly dressed while we were cruising. So it was something of a habit we did without even thinking about it. But now the boat has something of a reputation to live up to, which we sort of like. Not everyone's kind about it - some of them call us the slut boat – but for the most part we're the most popular boat in the fleet and I'm sure you'll understand that doesn't hurt."