Erotic Sailing at the Nationals Ch. 04

It was inevitable, when we came down to breakfast that morning, that we were going to get a lot of shit and mocking for our noisy sex.

In a way, I couldn't blame them. Had the situation been reversed, I would have done just the same. They were six single males having to listen to me getting my arse fucked off with no avenue of release for whatever emotions that stirred up. And of course it was going to stir up all sorts of feelings; randiness being the least of them. It was why I'd agreed to the handjobs arrangement.

Could Ted and I have been quieter? Maybe. But there was no stopping the bed from squeaking so our activities were going to be announced regardless and it would have taken a lot of the fun out of our sex.

I applied my usual clinical, doctor/ patient approach to giving the three of them handjobs. They were randy all right. All three had full boners before I straddled their thighs and all three went off pretty quickly. James -- being James -- even asked me if he could have a fuck instead. That suggestion was firmly but gently rejected; now and forever.

It was the orange bikini again for the rigging of the boat; much to Ted's delight. We had become nauseatingly handisie with each other in the rigging park; not so much prolonged public displays of affection --like sitting on his lap kissing - as a constant touching of each other. The touching was often in completely inappropriate places for public touching and in ways that told everyone what was happening out of sight; reinforced by the closeness of our bodies as we went about rigging.

It left me in a near constant state of arousal; but I suspect Ted's mere presence might have been enough to do that anyway.

At Ted's request, we launched a bit early to practice up some stuff and get a feeling for the new wind direction. I got the real sense of why Ted wanted to get out early when, after a bit of sailing, he announced that the wind was oscillating through 20 degrees change of direction every 5 and a half minutes. I'd never been very good at that sort of stuff. I knew the principles (regularly oscillating wind at predictable time phases when a high pressure system is overhead; more so when it's not a seabreeze), but had never applied it.

As we lined up for the start, Ted recognised the wind had oscillated to the right just before the five minutes gun, making the boat end seem like the place to start and causing the whole fleet to bunch there. Instead he suggested we run down to the port end of the line; giving us clear air, plenty of room and the chance to cross the line at full speed right on the gun.

About twenty seconds after the start, the wind veered to the left, just as Ted had predicted. That gave us a massive advantage. We tacked and crossed the whole fleet; bar one boat which we had to duck and go behind, since they had right of way.

Now my expectation for the nationals is to be in the top end of the second half of the fleet. Apart from anything else, as a light woman, I don't have the weight and power it gives to go as fast as the other boats in even moderate, let alone fresh wind. For me to get a start like that was super exciting.

We had the boat flying. Riding its foils nicely, ripping to windward through and over the waves with Ted keeping just a little bit of windward heel. But with the windward heel, my stance on the trapeze was super unstable; made stable only by the fact I could use my free hand to support myself against Ted; basically by grabbing his cock. Well, it didn't start out as cock; more very high on his thigh. But when in response he grew a boner, it was more fun to grab his cock, covered as it was only by his thin stretchy board shorts. It was the game we had been playing all through the series so far; it's just we were getting much bolder at it.

Still, as well as we were going, we were having to depower the rig much more than the other heavier crews. By the time we reached the top mark, we'd fallen back to 7th place in the 40 boat feet.

But here's where my little speciality fell into place.

These boats go downwind zig zagging. By doing that they can actually travel downwind faster than the wind itself (by generating what is called apparent wind by the boats movement). The boats ahead set their spinnakers, the crew jumped on the wires and they shot off, heading at something like 40 degrees to the direction they wanted to end up going.

Now my little trick is to be able to ease the boat down some 15 to 20 degrees on their course; taking a more direct line to the mark, without losing too much speed in the process. Don't ask me why or how. I don't know, but for years I've been able to do it. Maybe this is where my light weight helps. And in this case, Ted was helping even more by using his surfing skills to make the most of the waves around us. We were rocketing.

As the other boats gybed and went to cut across us, we found ourselves back in second place. We went a bit further than them, trying to line the gybe up to bring is straight into the gate marks and save further time losing gybes; again using our ability to sail lower to cut them off even further. We succeeded, turning through the gate in a narrowly first position.

By the top mark we were back to sixth, still pretty pleased with ourselves.

Here Ted again read the wind. He'd worked out that, with the next oscillation, we'd be better off being on the left hand side of the course, instead of on the right which is where the mere bearing away around the mark and taking off usually puts you.

We gybed early and went off to the left, still sailing low and lower still because the oscillation favoured us. A couple of boat had followed us, but were sailing higher.

When the next oscillation came through, we gybed again and found ourselves on a direct line to the finish; still undercutting any other boat around us.

To my eternal surprise and excitement, we crossed the line second. I could never have dreamed of that result in a fleet of such experienced and world quality sailors. To say we were both on a high doesn't even start to describe our feelings.

As we sailed back to the club for the lunch break, Ted and I high fived each other while grinning like Cheshire cats and a number of boats in our vicinity congratulated us, clearly surprised about our position. Landing ahead of most of the fleet, we quickly put the boat on its trolley and dropped the sails so it wouldn't blow over in a gust.

I couldn't help myself. Casting off my trapeze belt and lifevest as Ted took off his, completely excited, I threw myself into Ted's arms, wrapped mine around him and sort of jumped up and down against him. The thing was, my excitement manifested itself in a way I was completely unfamiliar with. Yes, the joy of victory was there -- or at least what in my position represented a massive victory; but it was heavily laced with the knowledge I had shared it with Ted. Shared it in a real sense of the word, given that we had each contributed significantly to our success.

And in my sex addled mind, that meant celebrating it in a very personal manner.

Ted had slid his thigh between my legs as I jumped, giving me something to rub myself on. And he'd grown a boner -- again.

I felt bold enough to ask...

"Do you want to do what I want to do?"

He put his hands on my butt and pulled it against him as he answered...

"Fuck yes, but where?"

That was a good question. The park and beach was way too crowded to try anything here and frankly, the clubs unisex/ disabled toilet sort of lacked the atmosphere I had in mind...

"I think we're going to have to run home."

"I'm in."

I disengaged and removed my gloves and wetsuit boots, leaving me just in a pair of long leggings and my rather small orange bikini top. Ted did the same, leaving him just in his board shorts...

"I'll race you."

Not waiting for a reply, I took off across the park in a sprint, towards the side road in which our house stood, three blocks up.

There was a reason for my hurry, apart from rampant randiness. We only had a very limited time before we had to relaunch for the afternoon race. Given a choice of sex or lunch, I was choosing sex.

Ted quickly caught up with me, not really trying to get ahead; perhaps too distracted by staring sideways at my breasts as they made a determined effort to bounce out of the small bikini top that was all that prevented me from preforming an indecent display in public. The left breast did escape once and I simply had to recover it at a run.

We were panting like crazy by the time we reached the house; taking the moment I took to recover the key from the key box to recover our breath.

A moment later, we were up in our room, Ted dropping his boardies to the ground while I peeled off my leggings and the bikini pants underneath. Ted finished undressing first and pulled the bow on my bikini top to lift that over my head as finished getting the leggings off my feet.

I pushed him on his back onto the bed, then climbed over him, throwing myself down on him and kissing him as I lifted my hips enough to let my hand guide his erection into me. Lifting myself into something between a reverse missionary and cowgirl -- but more reverse missionary -- it would be fair to say, I went wild on him. Wild in a way, I've never done before.

As I passionately thrust him in and out of me while grinding my clit down on his pubis, yelling (way louder than should have)...

"You're a legend Ted Stirling...a fucking sailing legend above all others...a big balled, fat cocked, legend...the man of the moment...and I could fuck your balls off you get me so excited..."

Ted was staring up at me, taken by surprise by my running commentary. I don't think he'd ever heard a woman go off like that while fucking him and, frankly, I usually wasn't one to even talk while fucking, so it was new to me too.

As he lifted his head to suck my nipples, he commented...

"I think it was a team effort...and I have a legend skipper...but I absolutely get the fucking thing. I feel the same way; driven absolutely wild for you."

"Well, I'm happily about to take one for the team. Two would be nicer, but I don't think there's time."

I was so worked up, so aroused before I even took him into my body, I went off like a cheap cracker in no time at all; crying out loud enough to probably be heard by the neighbours. I immediately rolled him over, putting him on top to let him finish in his own way.

Ted raised himself on outstretched hands, as he usually does to stare at my breasts as he fucks me. As the started thrusting, his erection felt incredibly hard and unyielding; long, fat and stiff, even by what he usually feels like. It was like he was super aroused.

I tried to exaggerate the effect of his thrusts, using the freedom of movement his elevated stance gave me to throw my breasts up at the top of each thrusts; as if he was rag dolling my body. I was amused by the widening of his eyes and broadening of his grin that produced.

But his harder and thicker shaft delivered a firmer stimulation of my g spot, which, in my hyper aroused state, had me climaxing again pretty quickly; with no shortage of vocal accompaniment.

Ted on the other hand, seemed to be taking his time. The thrusts were long and measured; finishing with a forceful push of the base of his shaft against my vaginal opening and a bit of screwing around while he held it there. It was clear, from the tone of the grunts each one produced, that his shaft was wallowing in the pleasure of immersing itself in and playing within my vagina. But, I knew Ted vocalisation well enough by now to recognise it wasn't progressing. It had hit a sort of pleasure plateau -- a fairly high one as far as I could tell. But he seemed in no hurry to climb to the summit.

We were running well ahead of time in terms of getting back to the club, so weren't in a hurry. And by now he had me squirming about and quivering under him as I just got more and more aroused; quickly enough launching into my third orgasm.

I was starting to become a bit more sensitive, so I gripped him more tightly to move things along. But the most immediate obvious effect of that was to stimulate me even more. His voice was just starting to tell me he was headed towards an orgasm when I put on a crazy orgasmic girl performance; my quivering legs converting to a hip throwing performance, accompanied by vocals entirely appropriate to the physical performance, even if not so good in a crowded neighbourhood.

Ted sort of froze there, letting me take control, as my hip performance threw his erection in and out of my body at rapid speed; my contractions pummelling his cock while my grip tightened even more. I was just starting to calm down when he first thrust again; accompanied by a fairly loud, almost mournful noise, somewhere between a grunt and a moan.

After a small pause, he did it again.

Then again.

A moment after the third one pushed firmly against my vaginal opening and held itself there in another pause, he let out a bellowing groan as he started to come; thrusting furiously as pulse after pulse of his climax flooded my vagina with his cum.

He slowed as the initial wave of his climax subsided, again putting himself into a full penetration of me; hanging there, still suspended over my body, looking down at my breasts. After a few moments he screwed himself around inside me again, rewarding himself with what seemed to be a mini after-orgasm accompanied by a series of mini thrusts.

As that subsided, he eased himself down on me, rolling us over to put my limp body on top, his still hard erection embedded in me.

I blurted out...

"Oh wow!"

Then buried my tongue in his mouth as I madly kissed him; screwing myself around on an erection that initially seemed reluctant to soften. But eventually it subsided and shrunk out of me, leaving a puddle of cum discharging into his pubic hair.

Reluctantly, we got up, got dressed in so much of our sailing gear as came up with us and walked back to the club to prepare for the afternoon races.