The Big Tease Revisited

With Sam's haunches taking the weight of his hips, it gave me the freedom to twist mine to get the mushing effect on my vulva and clit when Sam completed one of his full penetration thrusts and it was quickly working a treat. Sam must have been able to feel what I was doing because as I started to vocalise my pleasure he responded by doing a sort of double mash with each thrust; a sort of little mini withdrawal and repenetration to give something of a double bang ending to every thrust.

He was getting into it too; grunting and banging away with an increasing tempo and loudly enough that I was glad the boat next door had gone. I was just hoping that having emptied his balls not that long ago, he'd last long enough to let me get there before him.

I did too. With a gasp I felt the orgasm explode inside me; causing me to involuntarily raise my hips; pushing them hard against Sam and lifting him momentarily off the bunk as I swung an arc through the air.

The hands I had on Sam's butt were telling him to keep going through all of this; prolonging my orgasm beautifully as my contractions pummelled Sam's shaft. But eventually it had to end, leaving Sam still having a lot of fun on top of me.

It was then I noticed something that in the heat of my own arousal I hadn't before. Sam's vigorous thrusting had set up a gentle rocking motion in the boat.

Rushcutters Bay, where the boat is moored on the yacht club marina, is a complete millpond in a light Easterly like we had this morning. The high hills of Darling Point obliterate any wind or waves that might be out on the main harbour leaving all the boats riding absolutely dead still in their pens. Once before I'd been sitting in the yacht club bar sharing post-race drinks with the crew on a day like today when someone had pointed out a single boat half way down the jetty whose mast was proscribing little fore and aft arcs amongst a sea of otherwise unmoving spars. It went on long enough that a fascination with it spread around the whole bar; every eye seemingly on this mast with a mind of its own. Of course there was some fairly ribald speculation as to the cause of it.

That speculation was confirmed when a little while after it stopped, a slender woman with the most enormous boobs I've ever seen and dressed in a tiny spaghetti stringed, plunging neck bodycon mini climbed off the boat. I don't know what bra size she was. Much larger than my own c cups I lose track of these things. But they had to be something in the double digits half way up the alphabet. They had to be false. Apart from mismatching her body, her boobs were almost bursting out of her dress and she clearly wasn't wearing a bra; yet they were completely perky.

Following her off the boat was a guy about 10 years older, dressed in the hastily reassembled parts of a business suit. Unlike her, he was heavy set; probably 110 kilos (about 230 pounds).

As she and her partner were walking down the jetty, the guys in our group quickly reached the consensus that her boobs were what you might call business assets. Why else would you do that to yourself? Even the guys thought it looked gross; if somewhat fascinating in a 'can't take your eyes off them way'.

They certainly didn't look like a well matched couple physically and her dress looked classy in a manner out of place in a yacht club, even though he was wearing a suit. Either a sugar baby or a high class pro was the group consensus, with the yacht being used for an illicit assignation. I couldn't really disagree especially when, as they walked past us, I saw he was wearing a ring and she wasn't.

As they walked past the bar to exit the club premises, there was even a round of clapping broke out in one corner of the club, although whether the guy knew it was directed at him we'll never know.

And then, after they left, the real yacht club snobbery was revealed, with the group next to us concluding she was out of his league; because his yacht was only a 33 footer. They were almost surprised she'd consented to get aboard, let alone get herself laid there.

And now, with that history behind me, here I am getting pounded while feeling my own boat rock under me. OK, this is an early mid-week morning, not a post-race Saturday afternoon. The bar is all but empty. And I'm not a pro, or married to someone else and I don't care about the size of the yacht. And Sam's not as heavy as the other guy and our boat is a bit bigger, so probably isn't moving nearly as much. But still?

As he keeps enjoying himself enthusiastically in my body, it's obvious Sam's recently emptied balls were giving him a stamina he didn't have the first time. I squeezed hard on his cock, clearly upping the pleasure quotient as, through his grunting, he moaned audibly in response. Then at last there's that little pause he does as he reaches the moment before climax before pushing deeply into me to empty his load.

At last as he settled down on top of me, the rocking of the boat subsided to stillness.

By now we're covered in sweat; the body heat between us almost overwhelming the sexual pleasure of the naked contact. Sam withdrew and sat up on the bunk.

"OK." I say. "Let's go sailing. Do you think you can put sun screen on me without that monster of yours demanding more?"

"Let's see, you're asking me if I can rub my hands all over a gorgeous naked woman who I'm incredibly fond of and not have my cock even suggest that maybe I should take advantage of the situation? I'll tell you what, I can't guarantee it'll behave, but I'll let you tell it that it has to be patient."

With a "Deal", I collected the sunscreen while he dealt with the full condom drooping off the end of his cock and then stood in front of him. He did my back first and by the time I turned around to let him do the front, the thing was rampant again; not helped by his obvious enjoyment at giving my boobs - nearly up to the nipples - a good coating of the stuff. I had to remind him I would be wearing a bikini top; something at which he feigned disappointment.

As I looked down I could see pre-cum yet again glistening on the tip of his erection. It was time it was given a stern talking to. Interrupting Sam's creaming of me, I bent down, garbed his erection like a microphone and spoke into its tip.

"You have to be patient. OK?"

Then I looked back up at Sam.

"Do you think it heard me?"

"It heard you; but a bit like a child told it can't have what it wants, I think its feeling a bit petulant."

"If it's sulking, it doesn't seem to have lost any of its enthusiasm. Will it recover?"

"I don't think it has a very long memory. It sort of lives in the moment."

"Good. Why don't you finish creaming me so we can go sailing."

So, counting putting it on at home, for the third time that day I was soon retying my bikini strings; and it wasn't even 10 in the morning yet. I decided I really needed to invent some sort of quick release for these things.

Ten minutes later we were reversing out of the pen to motor down the still but crowded waters of the Bay and out into the main harbour where we could set sail. For the most part I took the helm, letting Sam do the hard work on the winches; although because I was long tacking the boat, he wasn't really working that hard. Indeed he seemed to have plenty of time to come around behind the helm and snuggle into my back; slipping one hand down between my legs where his fingers rather pleasantly tickled up the flesh under my bikini's crotch and keeping me at a high level of arousal without trying to finish the job. His own boner was pushed hard against my bum cheek.

By the time we'd anchored in Quarantine Bay the sun was a ball of intense fire in a clear sky of the most intensely blue hue. We'd been hot and sweaty from our activities before we'd even set off. With a couple of hours of cooking while we were sailing, first priority was a swim. So I let down the swim platform, dropped the ladder into the water and we both dove in; me off the platform, Sam off the seat on the pulpit at the front of the boat.

We met amidships and frolicked in the water for about twenty minutes; including a swim to the beach and back. The play was often sexual and there was no doubt he was fully aroused. But there were a couple of things stopping me from letting it turn into a fuck in the water, even though we'd got up to some pretty nice oral stuff last time.

Not least of those was a thing about the bull sharks. Apart from the usual rules about birds and baitfish, my general policy for swimming in the harbour is to do it in clear water over a sand bottom and don't be in long enough for one to zero in on you. Dangling off the back of the boat, jiggling around like a worm on a hook while you pound each other might be a lot of fun but still not a good idea. And that's before you think about the beachside eatery that was just opening for the day and the usual thing about condoms

At first when we got out, we each dried ourselves while standing in the cockpit. We'd got the worst of the water off and I was ready to sit with a towel wrapped around me on the cockpit seat when Sam stood close to me and gently wiped off some water running down my face out of my hair. It maybe took 30 seconds as a finger wrapped in an edge of his towel stroked across each of the three streaks of water. But by the time he'd finished there was a boner sticking into my stomach.

I let my towel drop to the floor of the cockpit as I wrapped one hand around his boardie sheathed boner and the other behind his back to pull him against me as I lifted my face towards his to kiss him. Sam responded, wrapping me up in his arms, holding me tightly and fondling my whole body as we kissed passionately. Almost immediately I noticed that as his hands moved around my back as he fondled me, all the ties of my bikini we being pulled.

When the second bow of my bikini pants disappeared and the pants themselves dropped onto the cockpit floor, I managed to free my tongue from the embrace of Sam's mouth long enough to ask him -

"I thought it was being patient?"

"Not any longer. For the last two hours it's being dying to stroke your pussy again. It's telling me that time's up."

It wasn't just time that was up! I undid the waistband on Sam's boardies and freed the raging monster from its prison and let it arc vertically up towards Sam's navel; wrapping my fingers back around the now naked firm flesh of his erection, feeling it surge impatiently to my touch. We were both now completely naked on deck. We were at that time the only boat moored in Quarantine Bay itself and my modestly from the beach was partly protected by the spray dodger at my back and Sam's body now pressed firmly against my front. But Sam's bare arse was fully exposed to the passengers and crew of any passing Manly Ferry. This was not a good place for stand up sex; his jerking naked butt would advertise pretty clearly what was going on.

I pulled my stomach away from its contact with Sam's enough to let me fold myself under the dodger and reverse down the companionway steps; once again dragging Sam by his cock to follow me.

This time as the back of my knees came into contact with the bunk, I turned us around and threw Sam face up onto the bunk, then positioned myself upright on my knees straddling his lower thigh. Sam folded his hands behind his head as he scanned the naked female body presented to him. I could see his eyes move slowly from the slightly upskirt view he had of my pussy, up my stomach until they came to rest on my breasts; flicking occasionally up to my eyes.

In the spectrum of levels of confidence in your body image, I suppose I sit about half way. At one level I know what I've been given and looked after is pretty OK. At least in a Victoria's Secret model sort of way, as opposed to a Kardishian body. I also knew that on this day I wasn't going through any cyclic bloating or yet carrying a post lunch food baby.

The stomach he'd scanned across was actually slightly hollow without me even having to suck it in; something I could see he'd lingered on and even lusted over.

I also knew that by the time a guy's sporting an erection like the one bisecting Sam's lower stomach and reaching towards his navel, the blood filling it is being drained from his brain. He's looking at the big picture, not focusing on minor imperfections. Still like most girls, I knew where each of those imperfections were.

One part of my brain is having to fight off those insecurities while the other focuses on the moment and my desire to explode Sam's cock with the view I'm presenting to him.

"Like what you see?"

"Love it. I could even be tempted to skip the sex and just have you kneel over me like that for half an hour for my viewing pleasure. Perhaps accompanied by a bit of inappropriate touching."

"And what about that impatient erection of yours?"

"It definitely wants pussy now."

"Thought so."

I sheathed Sam and lowered myself down onto the monster; settling it deep inside me before lying down completely over the top of Sam. More romantically this time, and for a lot longer, we kissed, cuddled and even talked a bit before I started moving up and down. His erection might have been in hurry to stroke pussy, but that didn't stop Sam being more than willing to focus on the girl once the erection was in her pussy's warm embrace.

When I did start moving, each time I pushed my clit hard down against his pubis; mushing it a little.

Progressively I became more vigorous, soon lifting myself up over Sam on my outstretched arms. That gave him a better opportunity to play with my nipples; sucking one while twirling the other softly between his fingers and quickly raising both into large and very sensitive volcanic cones.

When my first orgasm broke and pummelled Sam's cock with my contractions, I thought I'd just squeeze him a bit tighter and keep going; doing the work to give him his. But before long it was me moving to another climax; maybe even this time more powerful than the last. And while Sam was clearly enjoying himself and his erection had lost none of its enthusiasm, I didn't really get the impression I'd brought him to anything close to a synchronised orgasm.

My arms and thighs were giving out. I flipped him over to let him do some more pounding; something that got him there much more quickly. He seemed to like pounding; or at least what we had both now come to joking call pounding.

Staring at my body before we started seemed to have stirred up something in him. After we'd finished, he lay beside me, his head raised on one arm. With the hand of the other he stroked the flesh of my torso; circling out from my stomach but covering everything from my mons to my breasts. It wasn't sexual; more sensuous even as he leaned in from time to time to kiss my navel and the exquisitely sensitive skin in the hollow of my stomach.

I was enjoying it; lying back relaxed on the pillow, often with my eyes closed. It was a nice finish; a good comedown from what had been some pretty stirring sex. But guys in their prime being that, it wasn't long before that erection was back; suspended over my thigh with the used full condom drooping off the end like a wind sock on a calm day. Sam was ignoring it; his touching still directed to relaxing me, not testing my willingness for another round.

Then suddenly without any warning, but I guessed as a way of cooling his own growing ardour, he slapped my thigh and with a "I'm going for a swim", stood up, bolted out of the forward cabin, across the main one, up the companionway stairs and through the cockpit before I heard the muted splash of a body diving head first into the water.

For just a brief moment as he'd left I'd got an amusing glimpse of his erection bouncing against his stomach as he ran, the weight of the condom's contents exaggerating its movements. He'd clearly gone over the side naked. There hadn't been time for him to put on swimmers or even slip off the condom.

In a way a swim was a good idea. I was bathed in my own sweat mixed with Sam's. But I had reservations about diving naked into Quarantine Bay even on a quiet day. It might be alright for Sam. But while there might be thousands of yachts on Sydney Harbour, in a way the yachting community was a small one; in that everyone knows everyone (or someone who knows everyone) sort of way. I was too closely associated with this boat. Even if someone didn't get a clear look at me, if they saw a honey blonde, tall, lanky, naked girl in her 20's, they'd likely know who it was.

I could hear Sam swimming around as I eased myself off the bunk. I was half way across the main cabin before I heard him softly call.

"Emily." And again "Emily."

I responded. "Coming", while working out what, if anything, to put on.

Reaching out into the cockpit, I put my hands on my bikini pieces where they'd fallen in a heap onto the floor just outside the companionway. They were wet and cold; not very enticing. Thinking I could at least see what he wanted in my present state, I stuck my head out the companionway to immediately notice that the yacht that had previously been penned near us in Rushcutters Bay was now anchored about 100 metres off our stern quarter; the crew sitting in the cockpit having lunch.

So, that was Sam's problem. To get out of the water he'd be presenting a bare arsed view to our neighbours; probably with a bit of dangle between the legs thrown in. Amused, I retreated back to put on my sun dress; of necessity going commando under the very brief mini length of it. As I emerged into the cockpit, I picked up the pieces of my bikini and tied them to a sunny section of lifeline to let them dry. Then I collected Sam's boardies and stepped out onto the swim platform.

He was holding onto the ladder in the water looking straight up at me as I stood legs astride over him; giving him a somewhat intimate view. He could see the boardies in my hands.

"What's your problem?"

His reply was softly spoken. "I didn't know if it was prudent for me to leave the water as I was."

I looked over toward the other yacht. "You're probably right. I'm sure they'll be gone in a few hours."

"Thanks. That's encouraging. What about lunch?"

"I'll pass it down to you."

"Couldn't you just give me those?" Sam was pointing up at the boardies in my hand.

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that."

With a grin, I chucked them over the back, about 2 metres from where he was, making him swim for them as they rapidly started to sink. Returning to the ladder, he clung on with one hand while fumbling the boardies inelegantly over his feet and up his legs with the other before finally climbing the ladder - still showing a fair bit of bum crack.

As we sat having lunch, Sam got a full commando upskirt of me; which given the shortness of the dress, didn't even put anything in shadow. That monster was soon back inhabiting his pants.

Look, I'd like to tell you that after lunch and through the afternoon we indulged in sex in numerous imaginative erotic positions; to describe to you all the intimate details for your own sexual education. But the fact is, both times we did it - once before we left Quarantine Bay and again back on the marina - we did it girl on top, just like last time. I could pretty well copy and paste my last description here if that added to your reading enjoyment, but that seems a bit silly (go back and read it again if you really need to).

Was that a bit excessive? Probably. But you're only young and randy once in life aren't you. Certainly my girl parts and my thigh muscles were a bit the worse for wear the next day. But that didn't stop me from booking the yacht with dad for the following week.