Every Woman Knows Her Limit

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Sea Captain's performance sags so women have a plan.
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Captain Owen Smee had come ashore only three nights earlier when his wife Cindy began complaining. Cindy complained of many things, mostly trite things and her husband considered this latest complaint of the lowest order in triteness.

"Good gracious woman, once every other night is enough sex for anyone."

Cindy slapped her bare ass and said, "Not for me."

Captain Smee said what fucking nonsense. He threw her box of toys at her and went out. He wished he were back at sea, ducking the bird shit from over-fed gulls, watching the waves break over the bow and listening to Rap booming from the fo'c'le. A man could be a man at sea, free of women and he could minimize bickering by keeping the faggots busy scrubbing decks so they didn't get up to mischief and spoil the equilibrium of men being at sea in peace.

He'd fed it to Cindy three times on his first night home and then the cook/housekeeper wanted her usual up the butt and widow Matheson from next-door said welcome home Captain Smee and dropped her skirt so that was another round gone. Finally he'd called on his voluptuous sister at exactly the wrong time when her husband had taken their two children fishing so Margaret squeeze another few grams of semen from the mariner, using her hot and muscular vagina as if it hadn't been penetrated for six months, although that was unlikely.

* * *

The next day Cindy whined to three of her friends – Stella, Rose and Mary-Louise – I've called you together to discuss Captain Smee's sagging performance. None of these women had been shafted by the captain, a highly decorated war hero, so felt a vibration in their pelvic region and said to Cindy how could they help?

"I'd like a return to the plunging cock, the reason I married him," Cindy snorted.

Plunging cock? Her three friends had to sit down to avoid fainting. In comparison they were married to wimps who only managed to get it stiff on birthdays and other special occasions. They each pulled a toy from Cindy's box of seventy-five pacifiers, gave one to her, and they all work themselves with satisfaction into calorie deficit. They also composed and fine-tuned a master plan of action.

Captain Smee and Cindy were invited to dine with Rose and Gavin where the menu was oysters, steak, capsicums and sliced testicles of beef.

Two nights later Mary-Louise served her guests boar's brains soaked in boar's semen, artichokes and a sauce made of deer's velvet (horns).

Stella served steak stewed in prunes and dates and excretions from virgins at the school where she taught – alleged virgins – and powder from thirteen kinds of wild mushrooms.

The four women arrived at the Smee's home for drinks and after the captain became loud and raunchy on rum the women seized him and tied his hands and feet to the legs of the dinning room table, having to re-tie him when realizing he wasn't face up.

Rose let Captain Smee suck her tits while Mary-Louise and Stella anointed his dick with chili soaked in baby oil infused with a variety of arousal stimulants, including ginseng, Viagra and cucumber.

"Don't some of those additives have to be ingested?" asked Rose, a little anxiously.

"Who cares a fuck providing he fucks," Mary-Louise sighed, nostrils bristling. She told her girlfriends to undress and then slammed her meaty fist into Captain Smee's head.

"Storm coming up on starboard, helmsman. Tie the wheel down. First mate, order reefs in the sails. What do you mean sails, we're powered by a mighty two-stroke diesel engine," Captain Smee replied to himself in falsetto voice.

'Captain Smee, can you hear me?" Mary-Louise asked a little anxiously, thinking she'd walloped the 54-year-old mariner a little hard.

"Yeah, what's up Mary Louise?"

"We are about to lower your frustrated wife Cindy on to your heaving piston. We all love Cindy and she loves you. This procedure is for your own good, do you understand?"

"I've taken on six whores by myself in Cape Town without a problem so you wimpy women will be no problem for me. Throw Cindy on to me and when she's done you women just hop board one by one and give me your best shot."

When the women were plowed breathless, with Stella last to join her friends, Captain Smee's cum forming a pool between them, Rose said in awe, "Fuck me, he's good. What are you complaining about Cindy?"

"I've never seen him like this since the first night when he took me out, after six months at sea, and he barreled me thirty-two times. It was twelve days before I could walk again unsupported."

"God, some women have all the luck," Stella whined. "We should bottle all this cum and sell it at Sunday's street fair. We could make a fortune calling it the ultimate aphrodisiac."

"What now," Cindy asked, feeling replete and wondering if someone would volunteer to make coffee.

"With a mighty roar Captain Smee broke his bonds and holding his fearsome erection said, "You loving wives, friends of my dear Cindy, and you too Cindy on to your knees side-by-side and I'll give your assholes a right reaming."

The women obeyed, three of them being ass-virgins, so Mary-Louise volunteered to go first because she was used to it as a Saturday night special. They all got fucked so hard they felt bloated.

"Right girls, run along and thank you for being such loving women," said Captain Smee, tossing himself off to release surplus supplies and energy.

Later that evening with the cook/housekeeper all puckered out with the sorest ass she could remembered and widow Matheson from next door leaking more cum that she'd seen for the past ten years, Captain Smee went to bed and gave his wife the pounding she'd been wishing for – thirteen times before Captain Smee was forced to drop anchor and admit he'd run out of fuel.

The next day his bed-ridden wife said to her husband: "Captain Smee, it would be lovely for me in future if you reverted to your one every other night routine. I would be so appreciative and could you take my box of toys aboard when you sail and distribute them among your whining faggots. I feel I'll be fearful for your return home after each voyage and will be wondering if I can cope with a pounding even as frequently as every other night."

Captain Smee said, "No problem. Just get your sister and my sister around each time I'm due home and rub on to my dick the preparation you loving women so graciously anointed me with tonight. Then let the games begin."

THE END

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