Alicia Goes Gunk Holing

This is an erotic memoir with a happy ending. All of the people you will meet are sexually adventurous. All will be thoroughly aroused and then satisfied before the end of the story. But, even in the context of a story that would be rated xxx if filmed, a gunk hole is not what you think it is, unless you're a sailor. If you're a sailor, then you'll know that a gunk hole is a safe anchorage just large enough for a couple of small yachts. So why do I get quickly and intensely aroused whenever my wife whispers, "Dearest, I want to go gunk holing again?" You'll just have to read this story to find out.

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She applied gentle but firm pressure on the nut. One more twist would finish the job of switching out the borrowed battery.

"There! That should do it. You're going to need to run the engine for a while to give the battery a full charge, but it should give you enough juice now to get the engine started."

As she straightened her lanky frame, her bare head and shoulders popped up through the open hatch over the engine compartment. She passed the wrench to her husband. With a hand from my wife, she clambered back on deck.

"Not as nimble as I once was," she said almost apologetically to no one in particular. Gwen's frame was tall and thin, but her muscles were firm with the activity of a year's cruising in the Atlantic. Only the streaks of gray hair (which she made no attempt to hide) and the bifocals (stylish in thin red horn rims) betrayed her years of experience and emphasized the contrast to the youth of our crew.

"Since you have more ice than you can use, I'll borrow some to chill a bottle of champagne for the moonrise." Her husband Jonathan's request was teasing but friendly. He gently made light of our mistake in draining our batteries dead by leaving the refrigerator on all night while at anchor. Now we found ourselves a day out of Eastport with a refrigerator full of ice, but without the power to start our engine. An experienced sailor could navigate the harbor without an engine, but we weren't experienced sailors.

I had learned the basics of sailing in order to charter the sailboat for this vacation. The cruise required successful attention to a myriad of details to avoid catastrophe - or, at least, embarrassment and discomfort. My wife, Alicia, had been skeptical that we were up to it. I had assured her that we would find the romantic solitude that she sought and the adventure that I craved. Gunk holing is how the sailing magazine described it. We would sail from one small, secure anchorage to the next among the hundreds of islands just off the coast of Maine. When we found the batteries dead in the morning, I was glad to find the solitude of our small anchorage broken by the arrival of a boat with a more experienced crew.

With juice back in the circuit, our diesel motor turned over once and sputtered to life. We chipped ice off the solid block in the refrigerator to give to our new friends for their timely assistance. Then we drew straws for who would have to stay with the relentlessly pounding motor while the battery charged. Having lost the draw, I watched the others row ashore to explore the island.

With little to do but wait for the afternoon to pass, there was plenty of time to daydream.

It had been no easy task to convince my wife to go along with the idea of gunk holing. Beautiful photos of the coast of Maine were a temptation. Photos of schooners slicing through sparkling water enticed her. But each time she almost yielded to my seductions, she would be dissuaded by listening to a gloomy sea shanty with wrecks and drownings in the fog and sudden storms of the Bay of Fundy. When all hope of a sailing vacation was almost gone, a chance call from an old roommate launched us on our adventure. With an old friend willing to come along, Alicia was surprisingly easy to persuade to go. Of course, the arrival of a third person would put the damper on my plans for romantic evenings at anchor, but the adventure of sailing would be enough to keep me satisfied for a couple weeks.

Hannah and my wife were opposites in complexion and personality, but fit together perfectly as friends. Both had the solid frames and full figures of Scandinavian grandparents, but my wife had dark complexion and long wavy hair while Hannah had freckles and short red hair. My wife was studious and took time to make friends. Hannah loved new experiences and could make friends with anyone she met.

The two of them had been roommates in college and had hitchhiked across Europe after graduation. Alicia had carefully planned a shoestring budget to cover a clearly defined itinerary. Hannah had said they would meet people along the way and would experience the adventure from day to day. Hannah won. They had actually spent almost nothing and never knew where they would be from day to day. Alicia's broad wholesome face and warm smile got them rides with the tourists that crisscross Europe in the summer sightseeing. Hannah's well filled tank tops and natural sexuality got them invited to parties at each of the local universities. In the course of the summer, they had visited the major tourist attractions and had acquired an intimate knowledge of modern European sexual preferences.

Though Alicia was reluctant to discuss these adventures in any detail, it was my conviction that these six weeks in Europe had been worth more to our marital bliss than the graduate course in human sexual expression that she took while studying for a master's degree in nursing. Though my sexual experience was limited to a series of one on one encounters with girlfriends, I still thought of myself as somewhat more experienced than Alicia. Being the lead technician in a university laboratory, I approached this question logically.

I knew that Alicia was not a virgin when we met. In fact, I had gone on a camping trip with her former boyfriend, Jack, when they were an "item" and long before Alicia and I had gotten together (with his encouragement). While I have no sexual attraction to men, it was impossible not to notice the size of his organ when we changed in the close confines of our tent. Sometimes I can not help imagining Alicia on her back with her legs pulled up to her chest and that huge cock shoving into her. It had made me a little nervous wondering if Alicia would be satisfied with me, but the flush on her chest and her urgent moaning when we make love are more than enough reassurance. Even in my imagination, it seems impossible that any woman could be more aroused than when Alicia cums for me.

So why did I think I was more experienced? Though we have an active sex life and are responsive to each other, Alicia is reluctant about certain activities that I found enjoyable. She will not discuss her past sexual experience, swallow my cum or let me play with the tender rosebud that beckons just beyond reach when my tongue laps the sexually charged juices from her wet pussy. Of course, all of these taboos had been broken at least once. More than once while wrapped in a tight 69 embrace, Alicia did not care if I squirted on her face as long as I kept licking her clitoris the way that she craved. In the excitement of the moment (I would never force anything on my wife that she did not want), I had even inserted my finger through her anus and had been rewarded with one of the most urgent and forceful orgasms I had ever seen her experience. The morning after this session broke the third taboo when she hinted that she had once seen Hannah having anal intercourse, but when I tried to arouse her later by bringing up the subject, she pretended that it had never happened. Though we had settled in a comfortable domesticity after four years of marriage, I was sexually satisfied and yet still hopeful that I could encourage her to experiment more with her sexuality.

It was well into dusk when Alicia and Hannah returned. A fresh water pond on the island had afforded them an opportunity to wash off the salt spray and shampoo their hair. They looked fresh and happy - like the schoolgirls just back from their tour of Europe. I noticed that Alicia was wearing Hannah's T-shirt with the distinctive logo when they returned. Dodge's Log Lodges was a rustic resort on Lake Superior where Alicia and a bunch of college roommates held an annual reunion. I said nothing, but I must have looked puzzled for a moment. They looked at each other and laughed conspiratorially.

We checked the batteries. Satisfied that we had enough power for the masthead light until morning, we shut off the engine. Silence after the hours of constant pounding was a relief. Not wanting to waste power after the previous fiasco, we shut off the lights in the cabin and passed around a bottle of wine in the dark. Hannah suggested we turn in early with the intention of getting up later with the moonrise. While we had no Champaign to share with our neighbors, there was still some Grand Marnier in the locker that would do nicely.

Alicia and I shared the V-berth - a small triangular mattress in the bow of the boat that ensures physical intimacy. A curtain blocked light but not sound from the main cabin only a few feet away. Since my wife had always been modest in public, I had assumed this would be an enjoyable but sexless vacation with her former roommate on board. I was surprised when Alicia slide up next to me and ran her hand along my thigh. I reached over to return her touch expecting to find the soft flannel of the nightgown that she had packed for the trip. My surprised fingers tingled with the smoothness of her bare flesh. I traced the curve of her naked butt. She rolled slightly so that my hands could feel between her legs and touch the wet folds of flesh that came together just above her swollen clitoris. I felt her shudder quietly. The blood rushed to my cock. She pushed me gently onto my back and slid on top of me. She pulled up my nightshirt but could not get it off. I felt her warm, soft breasts brush over my chest.

I whispered urgently, "Won't Hannah hear us?"

She put one finger silently to her lips. With the other hand, she gently guided my swollen cock deep into her receptive cavity. I could feel the soft tuffs of her pubic hair press against mine. She met my kiss with an open mouth. Our tongues connected. I sucked her tongue into my mouth as she squeezed my cock deep inside her. We held motionless for a several long seconds while I felt an orgasm building relentlessly.

I had prided myself on my ability to satisfy my wife's desires. Maybe on a weeknight we might just bump together and pump for a couple minutes, but we always took our time on weekends and vacations.

This time we had broken all the rules. It had been less than five minutes between her slipping into the bunk and the first glob of my hot cum squirting into her. We had barely moved and had yet to make a sound. When she felt the first jet of fluid inside her, Alicia let out an audible gasp. It was enough to break my concentration. I groaned and started pumping my cum into her. Her head bumped against the low deck above us as I thrust my cock up into her again and again. She squealed with glee and clamped down on my tool. Our mingled juices squirted down the shaft of my turgid member as the muscles in her vagina tensed forcefully in short spasms. My cock slowly relaxed and fell out of her with one last shudder. She rolled off of me, but kept her hand lightly on my chest in the darkness.

"Someone can't keep a secret, can they?!" She spoke in a stage whisper that could have easily been heard at the other end of the cove. Hannah was surely listening now. I was equally aroused and embarrassed.

"Maybe you should go apologize to our guest," I teased.

In the moment before my wife could respond, we both heard an urgent moan coming from the main cabin mixed with another sound. Was that the sound of a vibrator?

"OK! I'll go apologize," Alicia said jauntily and gave me a peck on the cheek. Before I could react, her feet had touched the floor and she was gone. She left the curtain only partially closed behind her.

The moaning and the vibrator stopped abruptly. Whispering in two voices was too low for me to hear the words distinctly. Just when I expected Alicia to return (how long could an apology take?), I heard the vibrator snap on and Alicia laugh loudly.

The blood rushed back into my penis. I felt the sticky mixture of fluids my wife had left on my shaft. I pulled on my erection and rolled onto my back to get comfortable.

I could hear them clearly now. The sound of the vibrator was muffled and then distinct as it slide in and out of Alicia. I was sure it was Alicia. The moans of passion of the two women were as individual as their voices. The vibrator stopped, but the moans and whispers continued even more intensely. The boards under the mattress creaked as their weight shifted one way and then the other. A knee thrust out with urgency bumped against the cabin wall. They let go of any attempt to hide their intentions. Hannah demanded to have her clitoris sucked. Alicia wanted another finger in her cunt. Their voices were intense and passionate.

I pumped harder on my erection. My puckered anus squeezed involuntarily as I fingered myself. The narrow cabin filled with the pungent scents of sexual arousal. I ran my fingers through my pubic hair and took some of juice that my wife had left there up to my lips. The scent of my wife aroused me further. I imagined Alicia tasting another woman only a few feet away in the darkness. I was so absorbed in the heat of the moment that I was not aware of my orgasm until the cum splattered on my face from the force of my first contraction. The next few spasms splashed on my chest and abdomen until the force of the stream was spent.

When I relaxed again, the sounds from the other cabin had stopped. Footsteps could be heard on the deck above me just before the moonlight in the cabin was partly blocked out. I could make out two pair of butts pressed against the clear plastic hatch above my head. The lips of flesh around their vaginas stuck to the hatch cover like the suction cups of an abalone on the glass of an aquarium wall. My face was only a few inches from their aroused flesh. I grabbed a flashlight and shined it up to get a better look.

I could hear Hannah laugh, "He's a horny one isn't he?" The muscles at the opening of her vagina tightened then relaxed momentarily to reveal the dark tube leading inside of her. The flaunting crudity of her gesture removed all my inhibitions. I was wildly excited. I reached up to touch the clear plastic separating us, but they had disappeared.

I opened the hatch and stood on the bunk to look out on the deck. Alicia and Hannah stood naked in the moonlight holding hands. They both faced to the starboard looking out over the water. I turned and saw that the other boat had drifted in the stillness to within a few yards of ours. More than Hannah had been aroused by our love making. In the sheltered cove, our neighbors could not have ignored our impassioned moans.

Our new friends, Gwen and Jonathan, were clearly visible in the moonlight. The color of their naked bodies was cool in the soft light. Gwen sat on Jonathan's lap. Actually she straddled his lap facing us with her back to him. She leaned to one side so he could watch us as we watched him. Gwen moved slowly up and down on the pole that disappeared between her legs. Even half obscured, it was evident that Jonathan's erection was massive. I looked at Alicia. She unconsciously moistened her lips with her tongue.

Gwen reached over and picked up a half full Champaign flute without breaking the intimate connection to her husband. She lifted the glass and called, "There's another chilled bottle below decks. Anyone like to come over?"

Hannah answered for all of us before I had a chance to respond to the worried glance my wife had given me. Arrangements were quickly made. Gwen detached herself from her husband's belaying pin. Lines were cast. Bumpers were set. And the yachts were rafted together.

I just stood looking out the front hatch mesmerized as four nude bodies worked at tasks that would not have been the least erotic when fully clothed. When lines were finally secured, Gwen and Jonathan disappeared through the companionway into the cabin of their boat. Hannah stepped over the lifeline that ringed the two boats and stood waiting for my wife.

"Are you sure that you're ready for this? I'll stay here with you if you want." Alicia looked at me intently.

"Yes, I'm ready." I stammered, and then I continued in as confident a voice as I could fake. "I've never been so ready. I want to do it all."

"Are you sure?" she asked as she watched me intensely. "Are you sure you want to fuck Hannah while I watch."

I was surprised by the crudity of her expression, but I firmly replied with "Yes." I was beginning to actually feel confident.

"Good!" she said simply. "I knew you'd warm to it, but I was afraid we were going too fast. I don't want to leave you behind."

Her anxious expression had evaporated with my seemingly confident reassurance and was replaced by a smile. She leaned over to kiss me lightly on the forehead. I watched as her breasts swung together and touched as she bent over. She knew I was watching her breasts change shape with her position. She shimmied to make her breasts jiggle alluringly. I reached out, but she had already turned and was on the deck of the other boat when she looked over her shoulder.

"Lose the shirt and hurry up. You'll miss the fun." And then she disappeared into the cabin of the other yacht.

The spell that had been holding me frozen in place was now broken. I moved quickly. I pulled off my shirt and felt the tingle of the cool moist air on my naked skin. I picked my way through the cabin. I tripped on a slick soft tube laying on the floor. It started buzzing when I picked it up. I laughed and tossed Hannah's dildo back on the bunk for later. Right now I wanted my cock to be where this little toy had just been.

The banter at the beginning of the trip now made more sense. Alicia and Hannah had lightheartedly teased me about getting hard seeing them for a split second of nudity changing from swimsuits to deck cloths. A certain degree of intimacy was unavoidable living within the narrow confines of a 32 foot yacht, but they had seemed to go out of their way to make sure that I saw more than my share of naked ass and exposed nipple.

But how did Gwen and Jonathan fit in? They were there only by the accident of our depleted battery. I had been mildly aroused watching a middle aged couple make love in the moonlight, but would Alicia let me put my hands on Hannah in their presence. Even if you had just listened to your wife and her best friend make love, how do you make a pass at your wife's best friend in front of strangers, even if they were naked? It was all a mystery to me.

I paused at the head of the stairs leading down into the cabin. The entrance was narrow. I could peek my head into the hatch and look around or just put my feet on the stairs and climb down. The usual entry would allow anyone in the cabin to see my lightly tanned legs, my pale hard erection, my hairless but reasonably muscled chest and then – and only then – would they see the smile on my face. Of course, I assumed that they would all be looking at me when I entered. I seized my courage and started down the stairs.

What I saw when my head cleared the transom was not what I had expected. Sure, I had expected a party – naked men and women drinking Champaign and touching suggestively. What I found was an orgy already underway and my wife as the center of attention.

The table in the main cabin had been put down to form a double berth on one side with a narrow settee on the other separated by only a foot or two of space for a passageway to the V-berth in the bow. Alicia was on her knees in the center of the double berth bent over double with her cheek against the mattress and her ass as high in the air as her long firm thighs could hold it. Hannah was kneeling by Alicia's head facing her upturned ass. She leaned her body against Alicia with her breasts resting against the small of my wife's back. Hannah laid her palms on each of Alicia's butt cheeks with her fingers touching my wife's delicate labia. Hannah pulled her hands apart, gently spreading Alicia's vaginal opening. Hannah watched intently as the tip of Jonathan's enormous tool engaged the opening and began to stretch it further. I looked at my wife's face. Her eyes were squeezed shut. She had the extraordinarily intense expression of pain and exquisite pleasure that flashed across her face at the peak of our lovemaking, but she had yet to accommodate more than the first inch of Jonathan's shaft.