Michelle Finds Her Hidden Talent


"Well, payment for a job well done is the first thing, obviously." He handed her an envelope of cash. "You can keep the suit, do what you like with it." He turned to his computer.

"We actually have another event coming up, a lot different. This one is a trip on a yacht around the Côte d'Azur on the South of France. It's basically lounging around looking gorgeous. All you need is make-up and bikinis and a couple of evening gowns. Think 'red carpet', spectacular and sexy. The client has already seen your photos, loves the look.

"There's a budget of course, just buy a dozen bikinis and three dresses, shoes, handbags, the usual stuff that a lady needs. Don't get it from the high street, this needs to be high-end made to measure."

Michelle slipped the dress over her head. "How long have I got to get this together?"

"Four weeks. You do have a passport, don't you?"


A month later, Michelle was at an airport in the South of France, being collected by a taxi. She was soon delivered to a marina where dozens of motor yachts were moored. There were some other girls, all tall and leggy but like herself natural looking already waiting, together with John and his wife Camille. Michelle was surprised to find that Camille was not classically beautiful or glamorous.

She was in fact short and dumpy, carrying a fair amount of excess weight. She had a ready smile though and didn't appear put out that her husband was surrounding himself with beautiful and sexy ladies.

The yacht was immense. It had a permanent crew including a chef and a beautician, a speed boat hitched onto a mounting at the rear and a range of bedrooms. The owner, a Russian called Nikolay was on board with his lady friend who was tall, blonde and with fake teeth, tits and toenails. She was very protective of her status and gave the impression of a she-wolf with a litter to defend.

The Russian was plump and balding but with grey bushy eyebrows. In fact, thought Michelle he had more hair in his brows than the rest of his head put together. However as he was ridiculously wealthy and paying all the bills she avoided any comment.

So Michelle hung out with the other eye-candy and Camille while John talked business with the Russian.

Soon the vessel cast off and sailed out of the port to the open sea. Camille suggested changing out of their travel clothes, so they went to their cabins. Michelle put on one of her bikinis, white and low cut around the boobs with tiny thong panties.

When she saw the others though, she found that she was somewhat over-dressed. The rest were totally naked and lounging on the rear sun-deck.

Michelle swiftly returned and removed the garments, but covering herself liberally with sunblock from a supply in her bathroom.

Back on the sun-deck with a thick towel to lie on, she found that the breeze removed the scorch of the sun and she was glad of the sunblock with her natural red hair and pale complexion. There was an awning to provide an area of shade though and she soon took advantage of the protection.

Camille sat with her wide ass on the side-rail of the craft as it rode the waves gently. Her breasts sagged heavily but she was unashamed and later lay back with her legs raised and wide apart to allow the sun to reach the entire region. "Remember that we will stop maybe three times a day for swimming, get some exercise. Also there is a small gym below deck with a couple of exercise machines.

"Remember everyone that you are here as ornamentation for Nikolay, he wants to see ladies undressed so do not conceal your bodies from him. If you can flash the gash casually without making it appear deliberate, he will very much appreciate it."


The next day Michelle had explored the boat and was standing at the bow watching the waves break over the bow, sending spray high into the air. Nudity seemed to be the accepted dress code for the female passengers and the wind and spray were exhilarating. John joined her as the seawater splashed over them until they were both soaked. He was in bathing shorts, his body tanned and muscular.

She asked him how he had met his wife.

They had met in college, on a spring break.

"Camille has taught me so much about life." John turned his eyes to the horizon, "She loves to try things, to partake of pleasure and luxury as well as different, unusual experiences. There is almost nothing that she would turn down without trying even once. Which is how we have ended up on the luxury yacht of a Russian multi-millionaire. She loves things, sometimes to excess -- which you can see on her hips.

"But a woman who loves to love is a wonderful thing. Some women are really good lookers. But at the end of the day and when night falls there are things more important than arm ornamentation, eye candy, whatever you want to call it. To some people, having a good looking partner makes others jealous and that's enough. Not for me."

John ducked his head as a particularly large wave covered him in seawater. "Everyone has at least one skill that they can do exceptionally well. You may not know what it is, but one day you will discover what you can do.

"I enjoy a really good blow-job, and Camille is world class at delivering them. I've often said that colleges and universities could give courses on how to give a fantastic time in bed, and if they did Camille would be a professor of BJ. I've had them off many women in my time and none even came close to her."

"I thought it was something that came naturally." Michelle wondered. "I mean, I never needed any course in the subject."

"Think of it like driving a car. Someone showed you how to do it, you even passed a test and was declared competent. But you never had instruction from a world class expert. You'll never be as good as a Formula 1 driver, or a NASCAR champion, whatever. No, you're probably OK at driving to the shops and that's it. An early boyfriend told you that whatever you did in bed was great and after that you thought you were an expert."

"OK," Michelle was amused. "But I never saw any college course for BJs. No-one ever complained to me either."

"Well they wouldn't would they. Can you see someone watching you swallowing a mouthful saying 'that was OK but you could have done it better'? You'd spit it straight into their eye. Now you're a very pretty woman. Great boobs and ass, long legs. Nobody will complain, they're happy to be by your side. Let's see what Camille can tell you."

As promised, before supper the boat stopped and a crew member took the speed boat a short distance away. The girls all dived into the clear deep blue water and swam between the two craft until they were tired.


That evening after an evening meal provided by the resident chef, Michelle was sitting in the lounge with John and Camille. The heat of the day had gone, but they were still comfortable without clothing. The boat had slowed to a crawl to make the passage gentler and the breeze had dropped accordingly.

"I was talking to Michelle earlier about blow-jobs" John mentioned to Camille. "You're the expert, what's the difference between an average and a great one?"

"My favourite thing." Camille perked up at the subject. "It starts with the frame of mind. You have to really want to do it, to have a great connection with the man and get a thrill from knowing that you're capable of doing a fantastic job. Making a man come is easy enough, anyone can do it. But that's like walking the dog compared to running for the Olympics."

"So how do you do it?" Michelle was intrigued that a married couple would talk about their personal, private life.

"As I say it starts with a mental connection. If you haven't got that, it's like running across a field. You can run as hard as you like but no records will be broken. For that you need a proper running track.

"Like with all athletics you need to have an aptitude for the event, training, the will to succeed, facilities to practice, and most of all to love doing it.

"Come here." She beckoned John to stand before her. She gazed into his eyes and held the side of his face before kissing him deeply on the lips. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged tightly, her face resting on his shoulder.

Kneeling, she pulled down his shorts which he stepped out of. She breathed gently on his cock which was already rising. He had a thick, relatively short organ with large balls. It was uncircumcised and was tanned like the rest of his body as he stood naked.

She cupped his balls and gazed at the cock. "God I love this. As they say, there are millions of penises in the world but this one is mine." She placed her other hand on top of the penis and stroked it gently.

"This is where some women go wrong. They stroke the cock backwards, dragging the foreskin back because they like to see the helmet emerge. But it's not your BJ, it's his. Stroke it outwards towards the end, he'll like it that way much more."

She stroked him gently and repeatedly, always outwards, whilst cupping him. Soon he was fully erect and bent over to kiss the top of her head. Camille kissed the side of his neck before sinking to her knees. She didn't take him immediately but stroked his balls as well as the penis. "Some men like a spiral motion, I call it the 'candy twist'."

Then she started kissing him tenderly, each testicle in turn and then the shaft, lastly the head which was partially protruding with the strokes. She slowly eased the foreskin back with her lips, enveloping the head as she did so. "When he is in your mouth, press the tip of your tongue into the groove on the underside of the glans. You can be quite firm with this, so that you are creating a thrusting pressure just there.

"The gag-reflex is something that many women never conquer at all, I was lucky I suppose to not suffer particularly."

She took him deeper and deeper, then started bobbing. She withdrew to lick and kiss his shaft before resuming.

When she was fully deep-throat, she began a growling noise.

John explained to Michelle, "This is part of her talent, she can make a low vibration in the throat that reverberates against the bell-end and along the cock. It's a very special sensation."

Camille's hand was still stroking his ball sack, as she withdrew again. "The thing is not to make him cum immediately. That would be too easy. I make this last for hours, until he's bursting. We may take a break and he'll reciprocate the attention. It has to be a two-way street for maximum effect, if we don't both get a complete experience it would be a let-down for us both."

She continued "One thing I do while I'm stroking underneath is to run my finger all the way back between his cheeks, to the most sensitive spot of all. Particularly at the end to push him over the edge, perhaps push into the hole, make him squirm. Then, when he's coming I make sure that his cock is deep and going straight down my throat. There'll always be enough leftovers at the end to share back with him, make sure we both get the taste.

"So after he has finished the main orgasm, keep on kissing and sucking, see if you can get all the post-cum out. That is what you can let him taste on your lips. Above all else, gaze into his eyes while you are doing this."

She offered the cock to Michelle "Here, have a go with the growl. See if you can get the vibrations right."

Michelle took him deep with her encouragement, and then once she had relaxed her gag reflex to allow him through, she tried to growl. However she started to choke and had to withdraw.

"That's fine" said Camille. "That's why you practice on a willing subject rather than your lover. Try again, make a small space underneath to let the sound out."

Michelle tried several times and eventually managed to make a squeak.

"Practice with your vibrator, or a banana or something similar. I started with a pencil. You'll get the hang of it," Camille smiled. "Really, neither you nor your man will ever regret it."


After a couple of days at sea the boat made for port. The girls put on bikini bottoms to be decent, but stayed topless. Michelle chose one that was cut like boy-shorts but trimmed right back into a thong. The effect with tiny scraps of material that appeared to attempt to cover her ass was eye-catching, but after the time spent naked Michelle noticed the feeling of fabric against her skin between her buttocks.

During the voyage they had all started a tan and avoided tan-lines, so they could all wear revealing styles without excessive fake tan.

Once in the marina and moored up, Michelle noticed a group of photographers taking pictures of the everyone on board. The other girls posed in their bikini bottoms, sucking in their tummies and sticking their breasts out for the ill-disciplined rabble, some of whom lowered their cameras to take close-up shots of their bottoms and camel-toes until eventually another boat moored nearby and they moved on.

John and Nikolay disappeared into town for a couple of hours, while the girls continued posing for the few remaining photographers, or sometimes going out in the speedboat for a swim and pretending not to notice the cameras.

Later on they were told to dress for dinner ashore, so Michelle put on a dark green silk gown that complimented her red hair and clung to every curve. It had thin shoulder straps and cut low at the back, showing the top of the crack of her ass. With matching green heels and her hair coiffured, she looked the business.

The She-Wolf wore a cream jacket unbuttoned with only pants underneath. A strong wind would have shown off her plastic bolt-on boobs. 'Silly-cones', thought Michelle.

This event was a film premier; a black and white thing in a language that Michelle couldn't understand. But she stuck it to the end, was photographed entering and carried her phone in a dark green purse.

When they left she noticed that the She-Wolf was returning alone; Nikolay had become separated from the group.

Back on the yacht Michelle stood on the stern in the moonlight and shrugged off the dress. She hadn't been able to wear any lingerie with the low cut style, so her body was bare as she stood in her heels feeling the night air.

She could live like this, she decided.

She slipped off her shoes and stepped down onto the platform that held the speedboat, so that she could dangle her legs in the dark sea. In the sky the stars twinkled; apart from the murmur of noise from the town she was alone.

Then she heard steps on the gangway and the boat shifted slightly with extra weight. There were two voices, talking quietly but the sound carrying in the still air.

"Have the funds arrived from Vietnam?"

"Not yet. Until they do, we wait."

She recognised the voices of John and Nikolay.

"You have the account ready, yes?"

"Yes, I said so. It's all ready. By the time we get to the next port it should be there already, then it's an automatic transfer through thirteen numbered accounts and then it gets sent to the Spaniard. He will have a text from the phone which we will then dump in the sea. Simple."

"Thirteen accounts?"

"Most people in this business use twelve accounts, but I have an extra one for security. Every one in a country with strict secrecy laws That's not including Switzerland, I don't trust them nowadays. Every one in a different country with a different language and where few people speak English. That alone is enough to defeat most law enforcement agencies."

Michelle raised her feet out of the water and sat cross-legged while letting the water drip on the boards. The voices went inside the boat main cabin and the door shut behind them. Then she slid into the water and swam away from the boat.

The sea was calm in the marina and she used a gentle breast stroke so as not to soak her hair. She wanted to get an alibi if needed, hopefully it wouldn't.

She returned to the boat and clambered onto the platform. Dripping wet, she picked up her dress and shoes and strolled back to her cabin. Just as she opened her door, Nikolay appeared behind her. "Where have you been?"

She tossed her clothes inside. "I had a swim in the sea to refresh myself. It was lovely."

She followed his eyes and saw a bead of water gather on her left nipple. It dripped, landing on the deck. His gaze didn't alter. She smoothed her hands over her body, brushing more water down over her belly and moved her feet and thighs wide apart. She pulled on the skin above her pussy, making her clitoris visible. She looked at his face and his eyes flinched.

"Goodnight, Michelle."

With that he turned and disappeared into his master cabin that he shared with the She-Wolf.


The boat set sail early the next morning, even before breakfast.

Later, John sat next to Michelle as she sat nude under the awning. "Nikolay told me that you have an impressive trick, something that he has never seen before."

She looked at him blankly.

"Apparently last night he was talking to you and you waved your clitoris at him. He thinks that this is a trick that you could teach his girlfriend."

Michelle was mystified. Then she recalled how horny she was feeling when she had seen John, with the water dripping off her. She touched herself briefly and felt her clitoris rising to order. She opened her thighs widely and peered at it as best she could. When she pulled the skin away it protruded slightly and she tensed up her 'taint' muscle, the one that she used to cut off her flow of pee or grip a penis whilst in the throes of passion.

When she tensed the muscle the organ twitched. It was fascinating and she repeated the movement. She found that if she concentrated she could flex it quite a way.

"That's fantastic," John stared at it. "That's really unique, you could earn a fortune in Thailand with a talent like that. Men can move their penis like that but I've never seen a woman do it before."


They anchored at lunchtime near to a village with a tiny quay fully occupied by fishing boats. There was a beach full of tourists nearby but they remained a few hundred yards away.

Michelle thought that she could detect an atmosphere. John and Nikolay were silent when in the presence of the girls but kept returning to their private spaces to talk.

Eventually Michelle saw a crew member carrying a suitcase with an antenna, pointing it at different parts of the boat. She watched as he paused in front of Michelle's cabin.

With a feeling of dread she thought of the cell-phone. Still switched on and connected to the yacht's power supply to keep charged, doing what she didn't have a clue. She walked to the side rail and looked at the sea. She studied the distance to the public beach, then Nikolay opened her door and said something that didn't sound friendly.

She decided that it was time to act. John may be a banker, but the Russian possibly wasn't. She slipped over the side and swam like her life depended on it.

She heard shouts behind her, but she didn't stop to see what was happening. Grateful now for the regular swimming sessions, she powered through the waves towards the beach full of tourists.

She now heard the sound of the speedboat engine roaring and redoubled her efforts. Slowly the sand was getting closer but the engine was becoming louder. Then suddenly she felt ground beneath her and she was able to stand. The water was only a couple of feet deep but she was still a long way from dry land. But she was now able to run -- and the boat was unable to follow. The engine died and shouts again followed her.

Her lungs were bursting and her legs in agony when Michelle reached the soft, dry sand. People were staring at her, holidaymakers wearing swimming costumes and sitting on towels. They were looking at her, running like a mad woman in the nude with breasts bouncing.

She continued up the beach towards a road and buildings, then became aware of a person catching her up.

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