Dumped at Sea

"Well, it's fifty-fifty if we cut the cards, isn't it?"

She downed the rest of her drink.

"Eric always loses," she said, sounding confident, but her body language gave her away.

She leant forward and hugged her knees. "Cut the cards, Eric sweetie."

Eric laughed and shuffled the pack.

"Cut," he said.

She cut the cards and he shuffled them again.

He held out the pack. She took a slab of cards and held it up so we could see the bottom one.

Queen of Hearts – how appropriate! Eric took a cut and, grinning, held up the King of Spades

"Best of three?" beseeched Debbie. Eric shook his head. "Oh, I hate you! I don't really have to do it, do I?"

Pause.

"OK, then. But I'm only doing it to be a good sport. You shouldn't have won, you know."

She tried to stand, but fell right back on the cushions. She giggled.

"Shit – those gin and tonics were strong." She turned on Eric. "You were trying to get me pissed, weren't you, so you'd win. I'll show you, you freak! I can do anything I want to."

She pulled herself to her feet and maneuvered herself behind the wheel.

"Move your butt." She grabbed hold of the binnacle and swayed her hip into mine the same way I had shoved Eric out of the way only a short time earlier.

She put her hands on her hips. "Now show me how." She shouldn't have let go of the binnacle because she lost her balance and fell against me. Her arms wrapped round my waist. I looked down at her messed-up hair as she used me to regain her balance.

She giggled again – "Whoops! Oh, Lew, you'll have to help me."

I put my arms round her and helped her to the wheel, which she grabbed onto. She was pretty unsteady, so I arranged her hands on it and got the boat pointed in the right direction.

"Two twenty-five; that's about south west."

"This pointer thing keeps swinging around."

"No – it's OK, just don't chase the compass." It wasn't the compass that was at fault. She had forgotten her earlier lesson on how to steer a course. I stood behind her and turned the wheel while she leant back against me and let her hands move as the wheel turned. It took a few minutes for her to get the hang of it again, and I enjoyed the feel of her against me. I know she felt my growing hardness; she couldn't have missed it! But she didn't say anything, just kept leaning back against me.

When I was sure she could hold a course I reluctantly moved to leave.

"Haven't you forgotten something?"

"No. Just hold it like that you'll be fine."

"Aren't you supposed to tie me or something?"

"Me?"

I looked at Eric. He was watching with interest, a half smile on his face, still shuffling the damn cards.

"Eric's touched me for the last time. You do it. Nobody'll ever say I didn't pay up when I lost a bet."

"Nobody's going to say anything," I said. "I don't want anybody to know about this. Ever!"

She giggled. "I won't tell anybody. Who am I going to tell? My husband?"

"Probably not. So whatever happens on this boat stays on this boat?"

"Don't push your luck. I may be a bit buzzed, but I'm not going to be taken advantage of. Now, if you're going to unhook my top you'd better do it while I concentrate on steering this thing."

I stepped up and unhooked the bra. I slid the shoulder loops down her forearms and pulled her wrists together, binding them with the bra-cups and straps. She wasn't really tied to the wheel; just her wrists were tied together, so that her hands could still spin the wheel to steer.

Eric and I sat down with another beer and watched our defeated card player steer the boat. She had spread her feet as far apart as the sarong would allow because her hands were so close together on the wheel that they did little to help her maintain her balance. Her hair had collapsed into a messy pile and her mascara was smudged. Debbie's sumptuous breasts, freed from the confines and the support of her bikini top, stood splendidly on her chest.

Any sense of loyalty that Eric had felt towards his ex-girlfriend had gone and he now started to discuss her, pointing out her features to me.

"Look at those tits, Lew," he said, as we sat together on the cushions. "Aren't they gorgeous? They're one of the things that I really enjoyed about her. It makes me hard just looking at them."

They were fine, and I agreed with him.

"She does this thing where she shakes them – jiggles them. You should get her to do it for you."

"I don't think she'd do it for me, even if I asked," I laughed.

"Try it."

"OK. Debbie! Can you jiggle your tits for me."

"Fuck off! But you can get me a drink, and I need some suntan stuff. I'm going to get burned to hell."

I told her I'd get the drink. Eric could put the suntan lotion on her.

"I don't like that bastard touching me."

"Then you're going to burn!" And I went down into the cabin.

When I brought the cocktail back to the cockpit Eric was already at work on her with the lotion. It looked as if he had poured a jug of cream on her. He'd slathered on so much that the milky liquid was spread in swirls on her back and shoulders. Eric started massaging the lotion on to her stomach and then her breasts, which slithered under his hands. Debbie didn't react to what he was doing, ignoring him but looking pissed, while concentrating on navigating the boat to Chicago. Eric kept massaging the salve into her skin but had given up any pretense of evenly distributing it and was now only rubbing it into her tits.

"Give me that drink." Debbie sounded annoyed.

"I can't give it to you – you're tied to the wheel," I laughed. "Someone'll have to hold it for you."

Eric by now had both his arms round her and was rubbing himself against her slippery body, her breasts appearing and disappearing as they slid in and out of his grasp.

"Give me a drink, then, and get this shit-head off me."

I put my arm around her to steady her while I held the drink to her lips. The suntan oil made her slick and warm. She sipped from the glass. Eric's hands slid down her stomach and into the top of her sarong, while mine slid onto her breast.

Right then I wanted her really badly. Until now I had just been an observer of her emotional and physical tussles with Eric, but I didn't want to be an observer any more. I wanted to be a participant. I wanted to do the same things to her that Eric did. I wanted to fuck this big, vulnerable, drunk and arousing woman like I've never wanted anything else.

"Oh, no!" she said. "Don't do this."

But she never let go of the wheel or tried to move.

"No! No! You mustn't. No, Lew," she whispered.

I kissed her behind the ear and squeezed her nipple between my fingers.

"Just steer the boat, Debbie!" My voice was hoarse.

My cock was growing hard as I pushed myself against her flank and felt her warm body through my shorts. Eric had one hand deep in her waistband and was tugging down his shorts with the other hand. His cock sprung free, erect and red.

Debbie's tits were warm and satiny and her nipples were firm. I held the drink to her lips again. She swallowed some but most of it spilt on her tits.

"Ow – that's cold! Lew, don't let Eric do this to me."

Eric was undoing her sarong, and she tried to move her hips away from him, although she didn't make any effort to stop me groping her boobs.

"Fuck it, Eric! Stop!" she shouted.

Eric took no notice and the material dropped to her feet, leaving her naked at the wheel, greasy with sunscreen from the waist up. He wiped some of the lotion off her back and worked it into the skin of his cock.

My hand slid over the curve of her belly into the dark thatch of hair. I probed in the wet crease between her legs and explored her with my fingers. She was wonderfully hot and moist and slick but she grunted and arched herself away from my hand. Eric sat down on the seat and pulled her backwards onto his cock. The last of the gin and tonic splashed out of the glass.

Debbie gripped the wheel and pulled herself up.

"Fuck you, Eric. I won't do it with you."

He pulled her back into his lap.

"You liked it a couple of hours ago."

"Well, you were my boyfriend then."

"Yeah!" he said, "and you weren't married then, either."

They weren't moving, or obviously fucking. She was just sitting there, impaled on his prick, arguing with him

"Well, I'm married now. Get your prick out of me."

"The hell I will. What are you going to do? Tell him?"

"Get out of me!"

She tried to pull herself up but Eric held her round the waist, and started moving his hips on the seat.

"Eric! Dammit!"

But Eric wasn't going to stop, and started fucking her vigorously. Debbie was using the wheel as something to hang on to while Eric ground his cock into her, but the boat was veering off course. When I swung the wheel to straighten the boat up, Debbie let go of it.

I pulled my own shorts down and forced Debbie's tied hands on to my cock while Eric used his grip on her flanks to ride her up and down his prick.

"Oh, No!" said Debbie. "Guys! Please don't!"

She started crying, a muffled moaning sound made rhythmic by the fucking Eric was giving her. Eric maneuvered her into a standing position. She was bent over holding onto my cock and he was fucking her from behind. I steered the boat with one hand and tangled my other hand in her hair to keep her still and hold her head up. Her hair was soft and downy. I used it to pull her lips against my cock but she wouldn't open her mouth, so I had to be satisfied with her hanging on to it. Eric was working hard at her other end. I guess he'd already come once this morning so it took him a while to get himself off. By the time he did come Debbie had quit her crying and was just grunting in two-four time.

"Oh, shit!" cried Eric. "Here it comes!" And he let loose inside her.

Eric pulled out straight away, his still hard cock glistening and dripping in the sun.

"I'll take the wheel," said Eric.

Eric shoved Debbie away from him and took the wheel. I pulled her over to the cockpit cushions and pushed her down. She held up her bound hands.

"Aren't you going to untie me now?"

"I don't think so. You'll do fine like that."

Her face was red, and puffy and tear-stained. I knelt on the cockpit floor and pushed her legs apart. There were wet streaks on the inside of her thighs and her bush was wet and matted.

"Please, Lew. Use a condom."

"I don't need to," I said, and pushed, or rather, slid into her. It's funny fucking a woman that somebody else just fucked. You feel as if you missed the first part of the show. She was loose and slippery inside, but it was that funny sort of "slippery with friction" feeling you get inside a pussy that someone already shot their load into. I'd never had sloppy seconds before, and it felt good. This was the second time Eric and I had done a woman together – but last time it was his wife, in the sleeping bag on that camping trip. I suppose it was only fair that that this time it was my turn to thrust away inside an already soaked pussy.

Debbie lay there on the cushions and watched me fucking her, but she didn't say anything. I couldn't tell whether she was enjoying it or not. She was grunting and heaving in time to the in and out and her face was red and blotchy. I don't know if that was because of the sex or just because it was hot and she'd been crying.

It was good to fuck a woman her size. You didn't feel she was going to break if you did it hard. She had a good solid feel to her. She was big enough that she filled the space on the cockpit cushions, and I could slam away at her pussy as vigorously as I liked and she didn't move much. I got a fast rhythm going. I fucked her furiously. I was desperate to come in her, but she was so wet that I couldn't quite get enough friction.

"Come on Debbie, give it to me. Make me come!"

My cock slid in and out, fast and slick, right up to the hilt, as far and as fast as I could push it. The speed nearly made up for the lack of friction – but I was like one of those over-lubricated drilling machines in a machine shop that are bathed in oil so they don't overheat. And the deck was hard on my knees. I loved the feel of my cock sliding in her, but the harder I fucked her the more my knees hurt.

I think she was beginning to enjoy it because by the time I decided I couldn't stand the pain in my knees any more she had a sloppy slack-jawed smile on her face, but maybe it was just because she was drunk.

"Get on your knees."

She held out her bound hands and I pulled her up. She knelt on the cushions with her head pushed through the safety lines on the side of the boat and I knelt on the cushions behind her and speared her again with my swollen prick. The angle of her pussy was much better and it had some grip and resistance to it this time and I knew she would soon get me off. I was pretty far gone anyway and I could feel that "gotta come" sensation in the root of my cock, so I gave it to her as hard and fast as I could.

It didn't take me long to reach the point of no return and a few days worth of spunk came boiling out of me. I buried my cock in her and exploded a barrage of semen as deep inside her as I could. She let out a big groan and squeezed down on me. I hung on to her hips until the aftershocks stopped coming, and enjoyed the sensation of being inside her and the warmth of her broad and beautiful ass.

Finally I let her go and she turned rounds and held out her hands."Now untie me!"

I tried to kiss her but she turned her head away. I untied the bikini top and freed her hands and she got unsteadily to her feet. She put one hand between her legs to catch the goop that was leaking out and staggered to the companionway and disappeared below.

"Wow!" said Eric. "I never saw anything like that before. That was fucking unreal."

I laughed.

"We are two bad fuckers, that's for sure!" said Eric.

"I'll take the wheel," I said, picking up my shorts. "You go and see if she's all right – and pass me up a beer."

Eric came back in a couple of minutes with a cold one for each of us. "She's going to sleep. Got to sleep it off I think. She was pretty tanked."

"She sure was. She's a pretty good fuck though, isn't she?"

"Was!" said Eric. "Was a good fuck!"

We went on to talk about other things. The skyscrapers of Chicago came up over the horizon and Eric and I spent a happy few hours reminiscing, downing beers and eating more than our share of greasy potato chips. It was the sort of afternoon that we would remember for a long time – the companionship of two guys with nothing to worry them except how many beers were left in the ice chest.

My wife met us at the dock in Chicago. Eric and Debbie got off the boat together to go and find the car they had left in the parking lot, so they could return to Michigan and pick up their other car in which they had driven to the boat.

My wife said "She doesn't look very happy."

"No," I said. "They just broke up."