Erotic Sailing at the Nationals Ch. 03

When we got down to the rigging park, I slipped off my crochet dress, leaving me in nothing more than my bikini.

As I've mentioned before, I don't usually run around the rigging area in a bikini. Maybe at my home club, on a hot day, when I've gone into the water for a swim, there might be periods when I'm only in a bikini. Apart from that, it would only be flashes of it as I changed into my wetsuit or sailing clothing in the park instead of going into the change rooms; although as the guys' noticing of my yellow bikini shows, even a flash can leave an impact.

And if I am running around in a bikini, it is usually one that covers at least half my bum cheeks.

Today I was rewriting all the rules, and possibly breaking a few unwritten ones at the same time.

I was at another club's rigging area, the other sailors were, to the man, entirely adult males and the bikini I was wearing was one of those that Karens and Kens complain about as showing way too much bum cheek -- and other parts.

There weren't even any WAGs (wives and girlfriends) to offer me a dilution of the all male audience. Hanging around at a club while your partner rigs and races being way to boring to make a long trip for.

The only support I sort of had were a few swimmers using the park and adjoining beach; some of which even went down to full on thong bikini pants. But they weren't in amongst the boats, bending over them as we rigged.

But for this week, avoiding the male gaze was low on my agenda; however much I knew I'd generate. My primary objective was to keep Ted in a constant state of desire, and he'd inadvertently made it quite clear this bikini was very effective at that.

Having taken the overnight boat covers off, he was already sitting on the floor of the boat tiding up some lose fittings when I first approached him in my stripped down state. He hadn't really got a good perve at this bikini before. In his sitting position, his eyes were at about the level of my navel. As I approached, I could see his gaze was transfixed on the line of the shallow camel toe that ran down the front of my mons bulge and created a noticeable 'v' where my crotch turned under between my legs.

I wasn't going to pull a 'hey I'm up here' stunt on him. He was looking exactly where I expected him to.

I could see him hesitate, thinking about the appropriateness of the statement, before saying...

"That's a very nice bikini."

"You like it do you?"

"Maybe even more than the yellow one."

I leant in to whisper...

"Enough to fuck me in it."

He looked at me with a bit of a grin, I suspect a little surprised at my forwardness and maybe a little challenged by realising a small comment about the yellow one had been taken to heart...

"Maybe not here and now in the park. But in the appropriate place, definitely."

It is a gross understatement to say I flirted outrageously with him as we rigged the boat. I wasn't sure how well that would affect our sailing in the races coming up today, but I had no doubt how it would affect what happened afterwards.

Of course, he flirted in return. But that was my plan. I didn't want to be the one instigating sex. I wanted him so randy he couldn't keep his hands off me or -- to put it extremely crudely - his cock out of me.

As it turns out, our flirting wasn't all that bad for our sailing. We were working well as a team; learning from each other. Ted was certainly better at starting the race than I was, more confident about us slipping into spaces in the line-up I wouldn't have gone into and very good about placing us where we had room to leeward. I followed his suggestions and it worked. Good enough we found ourselves at the top few places at the first windward mark after some front of the pack starts.

The game of touching each other up to maintain balance went well too. As skipper, I nearly always had a free hand going to windward and actually found it useful to have a hand in his crotch; it gave me a secure balance and steadiness I previous lacked, more so as Ted worked to keep a slight windward heel on the boat. And Ted didn't seem too distracted by the semi constant boner that gave him.

Ted more often needed both his hands to play the sheets, but when the time came for a grab to restore balance, he was none too shy about where it landed.

By the end of the day, I could just sense that Ted's randiness was running rampant; driven partly by the bikini display I quickly stripped down to as we unrigged. He was clearly in a hurry to secure the boat for the night and get back to the house. The post-race beers the others were indulging in were very clearly far from his agenda.

The bikini was a bit too out there to walk the several blocks back to the house in, so I put the crochet dress over it; although Ted still just wore his board shorts as we walked hand in hand.

The crochet dress was somewhat perve worthy as we walked, and I could see Ted straining his eyeballs to cast sideways glances at me without running into a telegraph pole in the process. But -- while the bikini could be clearly seen under the open weave material - it was no substitute for the fully displayed thing. And while the sideways view gave him a bit of a breast profile and cleavage display, it didn't tease him with the camel toe in my pants.

On the other hand, the sideways view I had sent my heart racing. I don't know whether it was just all the workout he'd had sailing the boat or if he'd somehow put it on as a display, but his body was pumped; or is that ripped. His arms and torso were bulging displays of muscular strength. Not a stupid, steroid induced, body builder level bulging, but one that spoke of a controlled, protective strength.

It was having a strange, almost primitive effect on me that impacted my own desires. And 'almost primitive' was greatly understating it. The effect was cave lady level primitive; that desire for an alpha male there for my protection and the breeding of alpha children.

There was an enormous tease about the way his abs and those diagonal muscles that, on a slim but well-built guy, run as a bulge from his hips down to his crotch, disappeared into the waistband of his boardshorts. But the shorts somehow didn't do justice to the display; too baggy and loose, too high waisted and way too much material. Imagining what he'd look like in speedos, his abs and those diagonals running down into the low waistband, his tight little butt highlighted by the close fit of the pants and his cock and balls dangling in the stretched material, was almost enough for me to soak my bikini pants with my juices.

One thing the boardies did do was make ambiguous what was happening with his cock. To a casual observer, it might have looked as though he was just bloody well hung; a long thick shaft bulging out as it ran down the material covering his right leg. I knew it was a half boner; and it wouldn't be long before it was a full boner being put to good use.

Fortunately our house mates were still down the club getting pissed and, knowing them, would be for quite a while. We had the house to ourselves. But I wasn't going to leave a trail of clothes up the stairs again. I waited until we were in our room and the door closed before I pulled my dress off and ripped open the Velcro of Ted's boardies to drop them to the floor.

Ted immediately lifted me up and placed my still bikini clad body on the bed.

Lying down, half over me, he started to kiss me as he stroked between my navel and crotch, lightly fingering around my labia through my bikini pants. As he came up for breath after our first kiss, I asked...

"Are you wanting to do foreplay with my bikini on?"

"I'd like to. Is that OK?"

"Yes. But do you have a pair of speedos?"

"Yea. I wear them under my wetsuit."

"Would you put them on for foreplay too?"

He looked at me, almost puzzled...

"If that's what you'd like, sure."

He got up and pulled a pair of black racing briefs from his gear bag. I watched as he stepped into them and pulled them up his leg. As he got to the top, he pulled the waistband over his erection. The result was...interesting.

Whatever brand they were, he had clearly gone for the smallest size that would tightly fit his narrow waist. The waistband was very low, which mean the erection was a sheathed tower of super stretched material, the leg elastic pulling away and up to give some extra material into the tower, letting his balls all but drop out. With his arms out to the side with up palms facing up, he asked quizzically...

"Is that better?"

"It's very erotic."

He climbed back on the bed and again half over me as he continued to stroke my lower stomach and labia as we kissed; occasionally sliding his hand up my torso to fondle my breasts. He seemed to like tweaking and raising my nipples into towers of their own; producing a mini sheathed version of his erection.

For the moment I was playing a dead bat in reciprocating his foreplay. The hand he had pinned under his body reached down to lightly circle his erection, but I didn't want him getting too heated too soon. After he's had his turn, I wanted to roll him over and play visual and touching games on him too.

As he felt my gusset dampen, he moved to stroking his finger along the camel toe in my pants; at first lightly, then more deeply. Eventually, he settled on where my clit lay under the gusset, fingering it through the thin material and occasionally pushing his fingers and the material under it shallowly into my open vagina.

As foreplay turned to stimulation, he bent his head down to suck my nipple, again through the thin material of my top.

I never had a clear script for this game. I thought maybe we'd have a long, teasing, two way, only lightly stimulating foreplay, followed by a good root. But as I became more aroused by his stimulation of me, I figured that could wait. He had a good fingering technique and as he slipped his fingers under the leg seam of my pants and fingered it flesh on flesh it was even better.

Then he digitally penetrated my vagina and stimulated my g spot.

My involuntary moans only encouraged him to go for the orgasm.

It was lucky we had the house to ourselves because the cry I let out as I came and threw my hips up would have been heard throughout it. I lay there panting as Ted gently circled my stomach with his wet fingers, playing with my navel and occasionally tweaking my nipples, but for the moment, leaving my clit to itself.

I wanted to embrace and kiss him. But I wanted other things as well. As I nuzzled his cheek, I whispered to him...

"OK, now you lie on your back."

As he did so, I rolled over towards him. While having my head on his chest as I now lay half over him, gave me a great view down the waistband of his pants, I decided I wanted more flexibility in my play. As I said, I didn't really have a script for this unusual game of tease.

Instead I knelt beside his lower stomach.

It was clear I didn't need to do anything by way of actually arousing him. The tall, hard, fat, sheathed tower in his pants made that obvious.

I couldn't resist it. My first action was to run my finger along the length of his erection. It surged in response, lifting itself away from his stomach as the bell noticeably swelled. A small pause before a second stroke produced the same result, together with a droplet of pre-cum seeping through his pants.

But, as interesting as the sight was, this wasn't all about just playing with his cock.

I ran my hands across the strong firm pecs of his chest. I don't imagine doing that has the same effect for him as playing with my nipples does for me, but the pleasure I got out of it was significant. Alert to my intentions, I sensed the Ted was tensing his muscles, putting on an even more impressive display for me.

From his chest, I ran my hands down his abs, spread my fingers out as we went under his erection and down to the waistband of his pants to let them slip under the bridge his elevated ab muscle produced either side of it.

Of course, the erection was already lifting the waist band up, making the bridge less obvious. Never one to lose an opportunity, I pulled on the drawstrings of the waistband, pulling the waistband down to his abs (and his erection down closer to his stomach) and tied a bow it. Now we had some proper bridges; because the ones either side of the abs weren't the only ones. Those diagonal muscles created a tease of of their own; creating another pair between them and his hip bone.

I was surprised just how aroused playing with and stroking his biceps, chest and stomach muscles made me feel; perhaps accelerated by the towering erection that foretold of what was to come. But I really loved siding my fingers under the bridges in the waistband and tracing them right down to the base of his shaft, turning my fingers up to stroke along the underside of his shaft and again causing it to surge and swell as I withdrew my fingers.

Exploring and touching further, I'd run my fingers deeper into his pants until they came out the lifted leg seam and fondled his balls.

None of this was intended to do more than lightly stimulate him. I can't deny, it was mainly for my pleasure; letting me play with such a masculine body and watching it respond to my touch. I'd positioned myself in a way intended to give Ted a look up my spread apart legs and a nice profile of my breasts, so at least he had some visual pleasure to compliment my touching. He was looking -- because I could see he was looking -- at one very aroused woman; nipples on high beam, with my breasts mostly exposed by the narrow bikini top and my labia showing outside the narrow gusset of my pants. Indeed, it felt like the gusset had been pulled aside as he fingered me and he had a view into my aroused pussy.

Finding the tight waistband inhibited getting my hand and fingers down his pants, I released the waistband again, sliding my hand down to feel the junction of these firm muscles in his pubis, then turning my hand around to wrap around his shaft as I slipped it back out; moving onto the sheathed section to rub it up and down a bit.

Ted was groaning softly though all this; indicating it was having some effect on him.

Sated with playing with his muscles and their intersection with the base of his shaft, I turned my attention more to his erection. One hand inside his pants stroking the base, the other wrapped around the sheathed part of his erection, sliding up and down.

It was meant to give him some tactile pleasure, but it was still just as much for me. There was just something about Ted's body that had this effect on me. As I said, I wanted to look at it, touch it and play with it. Then I wanted to be fucked by it; but only after I was finished playing with it.

I hadn't intended to bring him to a climax. It wasn't like I was lying down on him, jerking him with a firm grip, using the male version of his fingering of me. It was all meant to be light and gentle; playful and nice without being orgasmic.

Well, I was wrong. Something gave me the sense he was about to climax. I used the hand inside his pants to start to unsheathe him, but I was a tad too late. The first pulse landed in the stretched material. I managed to release it by the second, to watch it squirt over his lower chest; followed by three more before the pulses gradually weakened to a dribble.

I grinned and apologised profusely as I used one of the hand towels we've learnt to keep by the bed to clean up his mess of cum. Then I lay down half over him to kiss and cuddle him...

"Why did you apologise?"

"Because now you don't get to fuck me."

"We just need to do something to fill in the time. Lie down on the bed."

I did so and this time he knelt between my legs.

"Well, I think we can start losing all the dress ups."

He pulled my bikini pants down and off my legs, then reached up and half rolled me over to let him undo the bikini top string ties behind my back, removing that too. Then he stood up and dropped off his racing briefs.

With us back down to completely naked bodies, he again knelt between my legs and bent down to eat me out. After a few moments of slurping as I felt his tongue licking my vagina and through to my clit, he lifted his head, his lips seemingly drooling...

"Your pants were soaking wet and now I'm almost drowning down here."

"You know whose fault that is don't you. You're the one who's a juice inducing absolute stud."

"Thanks. But the fact that you're drop dead gorgeous, doesn't mean I keep drowning you in cum."

"Oh, I don't know. There's certain parts of my body are often awash in it."

He went back to nosily eating me out, increasingly concentrating on my clit as his fingers penetrated me and stimulated my g spot.

I don't know what he does that is any different to any other guy who's gone down there, but he does something special. Instead of going for a nice little clit orgasm which is the best I can usually expect -- if that - he had me, first quivering, then all but bucking around moaning in a way that made it very lucky no one else was in the house, before I descended into a screaming, body throwing orgasm.

As he lifted his head, as I hoped would be the case by now, I could see a boner between his legs...

"Fuck me. Hard and fast. Please."

There was no lack of enthusiasm in his reaction. He was over me and his erection penetrated into my still contracting vagina in the blink of an eye. Ted's idea of hard and fast is a little more controlled than the words suggest; too kind and gentle by nature I suppose. But he imitated it pretty well.

There was for me a satisfaction in the keenness with which he fucked me. Why is that such a big deal? Isn't every guy keen to take a fuck when it's offered? Well, true, but it goes beyond that. I have this impossibly powerful, never experienced before, sexual attraction to him and, from the outset, I'd wanted him to feel the same way towards me; doing everything I can to encourage it.

I think he does. In fact I'm almost certain he does. And maybe my efforts to encourage it were completely unnecessary; a mere insurance. But feeling that keenness and seeing it in action is always an erotically reassuring blast.

As for the request for him to fuck me hard and fast, I know what he can do to me in terms of stimulating me. If I lift and turn my hips to receive his thrusts against my g spot, he'll send me through the roof and he knows exactly how to do it. While my body is still contracting, it's very sensitive, in a good sort of way. If feels great to have my contractions bear down on his thick erection, even if it is pistoning me like a steam train.

This time was no different. As he started fucking me I rolled straight into another orgasm; making it known by my vocal response and my hips grinding against his thrusting actions.

I tightened my grip on him a bit as Ted kept thrusting, grunting ever more loudly.

The comments of my bisexual friend, that women can get multiple orgasms with other women, but are lucky to get one with a guy, echoed in my mind as I came again. Clearly it isn't a universal rule. But, rather than the intensity of my climaxes waning with additional ones, they were building. The crying out was just noise, but this time Ted had to deal with a woman somewhat out of control; grinding and throwing her pubis around as he tried to keep pounding it, making her vagina a moving target even if he never actually fell out and all while strangling him with a iron hold around his neck and generally making his job of continuing as difficult as possible.

It was probably the shear erotic excitement I displayed that triggered him, that and the even stronger grip I applied to his cock as my contractions pummelled it. But he came too; once again leaving us struggling for orgasmic dominance as our bodies wrestled each other to get the best out of our personal climaxes.