The Cycling Holiday

"What's happening in there? Are you alright?"

How I'd so suddenly lapsed into such a state of wanton self gratification I have no idea, it was definitely out of character. I mean, even during the periods when my Tom's attention was thin on the ground, I'd usually manage two or three weeks before resorting to my teenage habit. And even then, I'd only ever do it in the privacy of my own home if Tom was out; usually at the pub. My favourite stimulations were the so-called reader's confessions in Tom's porn mags. Mags he thought he'd hidden, but I'd discovered.

But back to the shower; I'd been deep into my arousal, and not yet reached my climax. But his knocking had brought me down to earth with a bump. I suddenly realised where I was, and as I struggled to my feet,

"Err, I'm ok. I just slipped on the soap. There's not much room in here. I think I bumped the door with my bum as I bent down to pick it up."

Even as I said the words, I cringed with embarrassment.

"Lucky door. Will you be long?"

"No, I'm about finished."

"Let me know when, and I'll pass you a towel."

"Will do. Thank you."

I hurriedly made sure I'd actually washed off all the canal mud; which was, of course, why I was in here. So as soon as I was sure I was clean, I unbolted, and then opened the door; just a few inches. In came a hand, carrying a clean towel, I took it, closed the door and began to dry myself.

"I've given you a big towel so you can wrap it around you like a robe. There isn't enough room in there to swing a cat; just dry off the worst of it, and then come out and lock yourself into one of the bedrooms while I take my shower."

It made sense, so I followed his instructions, and seconds later I stepped out of the shower room. The gangway door to my left (The one leading to the back of the boat) was closed. I turned right, and standing facing me just a yard away was Steve; with not a stitch on. As Tom would say, 'stark bollock naked'. But it wasn't his bollocks that got my attention. It was his cock, hanging limp, but looking so big and fat, I was staring in disbelief. In fact my first reaction was to laugh; thinking it was some kind of school-boy joke. But as he moved and it sort of swayed sideways, the naturalness of its movement dispelled any illusions about its authenticity.

"What's wrong? Haven't you seen a cock before?"

I instantly diverted my eyes, and I felt the burning sensation as my face and neck coloured-up.

"I I was. I mean I didn't expect you to be naked."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind. You know, being married. I assumed you'd be used to seeing cock. I mean, your husband has consummated the match?"

"Yes of course."

I stepped back in the gangway, up to the closed door behind me; leaving him room to pass me and get into the shower. He took two paces towards me, bringing him up so close we were almost touching. And then with his eyes penetrating mine, I felt him taking hold of my hand. As he moved it towards where his cock hung, I said,

"Please no."

I clenched my hand into a fist and I felt my knuckles touch his cock. Then as his other hand began to peel my fingers open, he said,

"Please. I mean, I did jump in to rescue you. Just hold it for one second. I promise I won't go any further. Please, just hold it."

My mind was racing, and that interrupted arousal just burst back into life like a wild fire. Every part of my body was pulsing feverishly, and I felt him wrapping my fingers around his shaft. It pulsed in my hand, and even though his hand was no longer holding mine, I kept gently squeezing. And then as I felt his fingers probing inside the towel, his other hand began to lift and ease my left knee up and to the side. In went his fingers, and his mouth met mine. As our tongues probed and penetrated each others mouths, his fingers did the same to my pussy.

How long he worked me, I'm not sure, but as our lips parted, he asked in a whisper,

"Yes?"

Before I got chance to respond in any way, Steve cussed half under his breath,

"Shit!"

He'd heard doors banging. I say he, because I was still on some other planet. But as the noise was coming from the end of the boat where my Tom was, and he'd heard it over the noise of the engine, he knew it meant who ever was coming would burst in on us in seconds.

And as he turned and stepped into the shower room, he pulled me. First past himself, and then pushing me towards the bedroom the other side. It was a good job he'd grabbed me, because I was still in a trance. But just a split second later the door burst open, and in came Tom followed by Dave. This sudden appearance shook me from my trance.

Steve had by now closed the shower room door, and I turned just as Tom said,

"Bloody hell woman, how long does it take you to have a shower?"

"It's only a small shower room, it makes it difficult. Anyway, what's the rush?"

"No rush, I just came down to make sure you were alright."

"Alright? Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason. Where's Steve?"

"Having a shower, can't you hear the water?"

Which by now, thank god, Steve had started running.

"So what are you doing?"

"Well I was getting myself dried in there. But when I heard someone coming I didn't know who it was, so I came out. I didn't want to embarrass any of these nice men who've been so kind to us."

"Ok, I'll go and let you get on with it. Oh, have you found something in your pack you can wear?"

"No they're all filthy wet."

Dave who was the smallest of these men, being around five foot six, said,

"It's ok, let me get through into my room, it's the next one down, I'll find you a pair of shorts and a 'T' shirt. They'll look a bit big, but they'll do until yours are washed through and dried."

So as he passed me, and went out of the other door, I turned to Tom,

"So? What are you waiting for now?"

"Nothing. I just thought I'd wait for him to find you something to wear."

"Why? Are you gonna try it on."

"No, but he might."

"You're bloody paranoid."

"Maybe, but I'll wait all the same."

It was less than a minute before Dave came in with a pair of shorts and 'T' shirt,

"Will these do?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Ok, I'll leave them there."

With that, he threw them on one of the side bunks, and he and Tom left; Dave closing the door behind him. It was only seconds later when out popped Steve from the shower-room, with an erection the like of which I didn't think was possible. I held my hands up open palms towards him,

"No Steve. Please I'm begging you."

"But you were ready."

"Please Steve, not now. He'll kill me if he catches us."

As he took one more step towards me, he said,

"So we won't let him catch us."

"Please don't. Please let me get dressed."

"So that's it? You get me aroused, and then say no. What are you? A prick teaser!"

"Please, I didn't do anything."

"No! Well who was it wanking my cock. It wasn't bloody fairies."

"I I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Come-on, he won't be back again straightaway, we'll have enough time. You know you want it."

"Please don't make me."

"MAKE YOU! What do you take me for? I'm no bloody rapist. Fuck you then, I'll take my shower."

And with that he turned and disappeared into the shower-room, locking the door behind him.

I was shaking from head to toe, and as I slowly made my way back into the bedroom, I locked the door behind me. It took a while before I was able to collect my wits and complete my drying off. But once I'd finished getting dried I put the shorts and 'T' shirt on, and then went out to the front well, where my back-pack had been left. I searched through all my stuff, but all of my knickers and bras were soaked. Even this wouldn't have been too bad, but when I'd been floundering around in the water, I'd stirred up so much filth; the dirty water had made them smell foul. So I resigned myself to wearing the clothes loaned to me, without underwear. I did however find a belt belonging to me, one out of my own jeans, and although the jeans weren't fit to wear, the belt being plastic, was ok. And the pair of shorts Dave had sorted out, were far too big around the waist, so this was almost an essential find. Once I'd fitted the belt, I picked up both pairs of muddy trainers, that is, mine and Steve's, and also his mud caked jeans.

So I'm walking back to the kitchen with a pair of trainers in each hand, and Steve's jeans over my left fore-arm. But as I'm about to walk through the second cabin/bedroom, I see Steve stepping out of the shower room just the other side of the bedroom I'm entering. I stop in my tracks, but he just walks out, dripping wet, and like the first time; stark bollock naked. Also like the first time, his cock is hanging limp, swaying from side to side as he approaches me. And even though this isn't my first sight of his cock, I'm still staring in disbelief. Suddenly I come to my senses, as I realise my head is actually tilting down as my eyes follow its movement ever closer. I jerk my head up and as I now stare up into his eyes, I lift my two hands, holding out the trainers to fend him off.

"Don't look so worried, I'm not gonna fuck you."

And then after a short pause, but before I got chance to reply, he added,

"Yet."

"Please, let me get past. If Tom sees me here with you naked, he'll go ballistic."

"I'll let you get past as soon as you promise me that fuck."

"You know I can't do that."

"And you know I'm gonna fuck you before the days out."

"Please don't say that."

"If you promise to fuck me, I'll promise to hold off until the time is right. I mean, I don't want to see you getting into trouble with your hubby. But if you don't cooperate, I'll just take you, and if that twat doesn't like it, he can go fuck himself."

"He'll kill you! I'm not kidding; he's got a reputation, especially when he's angry. I mean it. He's been in trouble with the police before; he glassed a bloke just for chatting-me-up."

"That doesn't scare me; I know his type, pushy with women, but only fight men when he's drunk. He's no fighter, he's a drunken brawler. And in case it had skipped your notice, while I'm fucking you, there are three others to take care of him. Shall we put it to the test?"

As he said the last bit, he reached out placing an open hand on each of my shoulders.

"No please. You said you wouldn't force me."

"I won't have to. We both know within seconds of me taking hold of you, you'll be gagging for it."

I wasn't going to admit it, but I knew he was right. What it was about him I don't know, but just a look stirred up feelings I blush to describe.

"Please let me get past."

"Not until you promise to fuck me."

"How can I? Even if I wanted to, I couldn't magically make him disappear."

"Ok, let's start there. Do you want to?"

"No. You know I don't."

"Well I think you do. And I'm not the only one, Ian thinks you want to be fucked, he told me so. I mean you're giving off all the signals."

"What signals?"

"Don't come the innocent. Even your dim-witted husband could sense it. Why do you think he's so irritable? It isn't us he doesn't trust, it's you."

"But I don't know what you mean. I haven't done anything."

He took his hands from my shoulders and took one Step back, and then took a very deep and purposeful intake of breath through his nose,

"My god! It's like an aroma from the gods. From Venus herself."

As I realised he was pointing out he could smell my pussy, I coloured up again. But then he reached over my arms, which by now had dropped somewhat, and each hand stroked across one of my breasts. As the finger ends rubbed across each nipple, my body shook.

"No signs? You're sending out more signals than the TV mast at Castle Brom."

"Please let me pass, you're frightening me."

"You aren't scared of me. You want my cock as much as I want that wet cunt of yours. What you're frightened of is not being able to say no, and hubby kicking your arse out on the street. Now one last time, say you want my cock, and I'll make sure you get fucked without him knowing."

"Even if I admit that you get me aroused, that doesn't mean I want to go with you."

"Oh yes it does. Now just admit it, and I'll make sure hubby doesn't find out."

"Ok, I'll say it. I want you. You know that. You've known it since you got your hand in my shorts. But please, I'm begging you. Don't let my Tom catch us."

He stepped to one side,

"Ok my little one; it wasn't that difficult, was it?"

So as I hurriedly made my way to the kitchen sink, to start washing the muddy stuff, he closed the bedroom door, and I assume was drying himself and getting dressed. My head was spinning, and my tummy was bubbling with excitement. I couldn't believe I'd agreed to his demands, but now I was no longer under his spell, I started to regret my stupidity. But regrets or not, I knew the statement he'd made was true. 'We both know within seconds of me taking hold of you, you'll be gagging for it.' So I decided, the only way to protect me from myself, would be to get off this boat before he got chance to carry out his threat.

Once I'd washed the clothes we'd been wearing when we'd been in the canal, and swilled the worst of the muck off the trainers, I knocked on the cabin door where Steve was getting dressed. I waited, but nobody answered. I cautiously turned the handle, and slowly opened the door; all the time fearing he'd be hiding and would pounce out and grab me. But gradually as I looked through this and the next cabin, I realised Steve wasn't there. This should have been a relief, and in one way it was; but deep down, I knew there was a longing. And I also knew that only an encounter with this man would satisfy it.

And so back to reality, when I climbed up to put the trainers on the roof, I saw he was out on the back deck with the others. I can only assume he went out the front of the boat and either walked along the narrow side or went over the roof. As they saw me, Ian climbed up onto the roof at his end, and started to walk down towards me. When he got close he said,

"Hand the clothes up here; I'll use this mooring rope to make a line from the flag staff, to somewhere on the side rail at the back. They'll soon blow dry with the boats movement and this sun on them."

I handed the clothes up, and once he'd rigged up a line, he began to drape the clothes over it. He hadn't got pegs to hold them, so it was just a case of draping across the middle of each item.

When he picked up my knickers, he stood with his back to the others; I assume so he was out of sight of Tom, and held the knickers out in front of himself examining them. He spoke quietly, but being so far away from the noise of the engine, I heard his words clearly.

"When we first saw you cycling towards us, I made a wish to get my hand into your knickers, and look, its come true."

He now had my knickers draped over his hand. I snapped,

"You're pathetic."

I turned and jumped down into the well. But as I disappeared inside, he lent over the top towards me,

"Maybe. But I'm gonna fuck you before the days out."

I made my way along the boat going through from one cabin to the next until I emerged out on the back deck.

Before I carry on with my story, I'll explain a few things, especially for non UK readers. The traditional canal narrow boats, which this was a modern copy of, were almost as long as the locks that they needed to pass through. So sixty-eight foot long was about the norm. But as some stretches of the canal system had locks only seven foot wide, this restricted the boats to six feet eight inches. Hence the term, 'narrow boat.' This modern version had an open sitting area at the front, the floor of which was level with floors throughout the cabin; hence the term, 'The well'.

Whereas the deck area at the back, although also open, it was at a higher level. When I say higher, I mean about two or three feet above the cabin floor, to give the compartment below enough height to house the engine; making it about level with the boat sides. To make this rear deck user-friendly for holiday hire, it had a metal bar running all around its edge, which acted as a safety rail. The central area between the front well and back deck was a string of cabins, the roof of which made another deck area. But this wasn't flat; it was curved, like the top of a railway carriage. And to give the six foot headroom in the cabins, it meant this deck was three to four feet above the back deck. But unlike the back deck, the roof only had very low handrails, one on each side running the length of the roof, but only a couple of inches high.

While I'm filling in details, maybe it's about time I gave you a brief description of these men. The oldest was Derek; he looked about my dad's age, fifty-five; balding, five ten, slightly plump, with a beard. Dave and Steve, I'd put at around thirty-five to forty. Dave slightly built, about five six. Steve, six foot, drop-dead gorgeous, well built, firm tight muscle bound body (remember, I've seen him naked) and hung like a horse. And Ian, late twenties or early thirties, very similar build to my Tom. Both around five eleven, both slim build. But my Tom was the same age as me, twenty-two. So now I think you've got some idea about the physical characteristics of these men, but the other things that go to make-up their whole character, you'll find out with me as my story unfolds.

And so back to the scene as I climbed from the rear cabin onto the rear deck area. For a start, Ian had re-joined them well before I'd emerged from the cabin. And they were spread out all around the deck area, backs to the canal, their bums resting on the safety rail. Which in the case of the tallest three, it was the right height for. But my Tom was stood just off centre of the decked area, with one hand on the tiller. That's another metal bar, but it's connected to the rudder under the water, and it's by pushing or pulling it from side to side, that you steer the boat. And being as Tom was the one doing the steering, he was standing up to his full height, to enable him to see over the cabin roof, and to one side of the line of drying clothes.

As soon as I saw Tom, something came over me, and I dashed across and standing right up close to him, I clung onto his free arm.

"What the bloody hell's got into you?"

He shrugged me off his arm, and I guess this didn't come as a surprise. Tom never liked signs of affection in front of other men. In fact, I'm not even sure why I felt the need to cling onto him, it wasn't as if these men were about to pounce on me out here on the open deck. Reluctantly I walked around to the space at the other side of the tiller, and just stood as close as I dare, with my arm reached across and my hand loosely on top of Tom's hand on the tiller.

There was a period of silence for a while, a kind of atmosphere, I guess everyone felt uneasy about Tom's reaction, but then Dave said,

"You haven't told her your good news Tom."

Tom looked across to me and said,

"So how do you fancy a two week holiday on a boat?"

I felt a dull ache in the pit of my tummy; it wasn't any kind of arousal, just a feeling that things were going to go wrong.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well don't look so excited. My god, anyone would think I'd said we had to walk home. You'll never guess where they hired this boat from?"

"No, go on, tell me."

"Stoke Golding!"

"So, why does the boatyard where they've hired it from mean we get a two week holiday?"

"Because my silly little girl, instead of them dropping us off at the next town, where we would have to try to get ourselves and the bikes home. They've said we can stop on board for the rest of their holiday, and they'll be able to drop us and our bikes off just two miles from our house when their holiday finishes a week on Saturday."