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From: PirateSummer@hotmail.com (Summer Pirate)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 8 Jul 2003 10:02:44 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} {Pirate} (RP) "Picaroon Bay" (F-solo, mast, wine) {RAP}
Date: Wed,  9 Jul 2003 06:10:04 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

This story was reposted to ASSM for the "Summer 2003 Pirate Challenge".
The original subject was: PICAROON BAY - Fantasy Lover Story 3

Reposter's note: The posting found thru Google wasn't formatted, so I
added the paragraphs for convenient reading. The story was reposted by
Lloyd Hundley in August 1996 to alt.sex.stories, his email adresse
does not work anymore. The author of the story, RAP, can not be
located, wether thru Google, nor at ASSTR, nor elsewhere. I did not
find another story by this writer, though the original title of the posting
implicated more.


Warning - The following story contains adult content and is intended
for adults only.




PICAROON BAY 
BY: RAP

The morning sun was just below the horizon, but it's promise of warmth
was turning the sky from nights cold black to a golden orange. The wind
was calm and felt warm on her face as she walked from her car the slip,
were she kept her sailboat. It was her get-away toy.

The 20 foot craft was older than she was, but it's wooden deck and cabin
made her feel safe and the natural material seemed to melt away her stress.
She was carrying enough food for two days of sailing and her spirits were
high as she neared the water and the boat. The sounds of the yacht club's
marina in the early hours of the day were soft and rhythmical, as the
water slowly lifted and pulled at the boats tied in their slips. The
birds were just now starting to wake and fill the air with their songs.
The cities rush seemed far behind her even before she had untied the
lines that held her and the boat captive.

She stowed the supplies and started the small engine that would move
the boat through the marina and out to open water, and the wind. Slowly
the boat moved through the calm waters protected by the man made
barriers. The waves of the open water were breaking against the concrete
and a fine mist was forced up and over the wall. The boat began to cut
through the small waves as she passed the from the safety of the marina,
and she repositioned her feet to maintain her balance.

She continued under the power of the engine until she was nearly a half
mile from the harbor. The sound of the engine stopped as suddenly as it
had started, with the turn of the key.

She checked the horizon and with no other boats in site, she began the
job of uncovering the sails. The work was hard and would have been much
easier for two people, but this was her weekend alone. The wind filled
the main sail as soon as she had raised it and the deck started to tilt
as the force of the wind pushed against the weight of the boat. She
returned to the wheel and set up the boat for some fast sailing. The
sun was now completely visible and it's warmth felt good as the chill
of the night air began to be forced back to it's hiding place. By 10:00
A.M. she could just make out the first of the small islands that she
was sailing towards.

The air was becoming increasingly warm as the sun continued to climb
in the sky. The first rule of sailing was always be prepared, and she had
dressed for the night's cold air. The layered clothing was beginning to
feel to heavy, and she needed to remove the rain proof jacket.

The winds were favorable for the trip this weekend and she was making
good time, she would be at her secret bay by noon.

The bay lay just ahead and she made her last course change and headed
straight into the middle of the small opening which protected the
natural bay. She had heard rumors around the marina that the bay had
been used by pirates, and she liked to think it was true.

The sound of the sails coming down, and the distant birds were the
only noises she could hear. Then as she approached the center of the
bay she dropped the anchor, and the boat continued ahead until the
slack played out and the boat started to swing around as the anchor
took hold of the bottom.

The bay was protected by hills and trees, and the water was calm and
clear. There was a small sand beach, were she liked to sun bath and
sometimes cook out over a small campfire. The sun was now directly
overhead and the heat in the bay was intense.

She went down into the small cabin and started to remove her sailing
clothes and slipped into the blue string bikini that she had just bought
two days earlier. She couldn't help but look at herself in the mirror on
the back of the bathroom door. She thought that maybe she should
have gone with the one piece, but it was a little late for that. Her skin
was slightly tan from the little time she could take to work on it, not
bad for a workaholic.

The boat was just rocking enough to be noticed, and she
most likely would not have if she had not been pouring a glass of wine.

The sun felt warm as she walked through the cabin door back onto the
deck, with the wine, blanket, and the latest book of short romance
fantasies written by her favorite new novelist. A new comer to the best
seller list and a must read for the busy professional woman, who's
career consumes her every waking minute. She often wondered how a man,
little lone a man from the cold state of Wisconsin could understand her
needs and pleasures so well. His short stories never failed to touch
her feelings and her soul, sometimes she would cry or laugh - but
sometimes she would have the best dreams. The author had to be a woman
using a male pseudonym trying to get ahead in a man's world, because no
man could touch a woman's soul like this.

The wine was cool and it did not take long for it to start to relax her, since
she liked sailing on an empty stomach. The book started out slowly for
the first couple of pages, but then as she knew would happen the heat
started to build quickly. The wine glass was empty and her head was
being filled with the vision of uncontrolled passion, as the pages of the
book passed quickly. She could feel the excitement building both for the
character in the book and within herself.

The sun was hotter than she had thought at first, and she had forgotten to
put on any lotion or sun block. The book had to wait as she stood up
and headed for the cabin. The bright sun light bouncing off the pages
of the book had robbed her of her night vision and the sudden darkness
of the cabin startled her. She stopped just inside the door and sat down
on the edge of the bunk. The sound of the water licking the hull of the
boat calmed her, the cabin began to come into focus and she walked to
the galley and poured another glass of wine.

The suntan oil was just inside the bathroom cabinet, she grabbed the
bottle without looking and headed back up to the deck. She untied
the straps that held the top of her suit and placed the small piece of
fabric on the deck next to her. She opened the bottle and poured some
of the oil into her hand.

She rubbed her hands together in order to warm the oil and prepare to
apply it to her arms and chest. The oil felt warm and soothing as her
hands slid over the skin of her arms. The skin soaked the oil up like
a sponge and she needed more for the tender skin of her breasts and
stomach.

She reopened the bottle and poured the oil along a line just below her
collar bones. The oil slowly ran down and over her breasts and onto her
stomach. The feeling was like nothing she had felt in her life, it was
cool when it first started and then warmed as it continued down. She
started to rub the oil into the skin of her shoulders and then started
to cover her breasts. The whiteness of her breasts looked more
pronounced in the sun light against the darker color of her nipples.

Slowly she began to massage the oil over the tender skin of her
breasts. The instant her warm hands slid over the soft satiny smooth
nipples they became aroused and erect. Her hands gently worked the oil
into the skin of her breasts and she smiled - more inside than out.

The wind picked up slightly, and the sound of it blowing through the boats
rigging reminded her of faint whispers. She laid back onto the blanket
and closed her eyes. She moved her hands down to her stomach and spread
the oil over all of the exposed skin. The oil had formed a small pool
in her navel, and the sun had warmed the oil so that when her fingers
found it they noticed the heat. Her mind drifted for a moment and she
wondered if the heat was coming from the sun or from deep inside
herself, where she felt unfamiliar stirrings.

The sun was still working hard to spread it's energy over her skin. She
wanted to just lay back and go to sleep, and maybe let the stirrings lead
her into some erotic dream world. The heat on her legs told her that she
had better protect them also, or she may be sorry later. Sitting up she
took the opportunity to drink some more of the wine she had poured.

The wind must have been getting quit strong beyond the protection of the
bay, because there were waves coming through the short channel. The
waters in the small bay never became rough, but on days like this with the
wind blowing from just the right direction it would cause the open
waters to back up into the bay.

The boat had started to casually roll from side to side as the waves lifted
the boat and slid under it. The bottle of oil had been laying in the sun for
almost an hour and when she poured it into her hand it was very warm.
She applied the oil to her thighs and then her calves sliding her hands
down over the tops of her feet. The warmth of the oil and her hands felt
very relaxing, and the stress of the week seemed to be melting and
flowing away from her.

She brought her hands back up to her thighs, as she did she pulled her
feet in close to her crotch so her inner thighs would be easier the
reach. The new position of her legs pulled the fabric of the suit
bottom tight against her pubic bone. She stopped rubbing for just a
second to admire just how good the suit fit and how well she had
trimmed her pubic hair for the new suit. It was prefect, there was no
visible hair showing and the shortness of the remaining hair seemed
invisible under the form fitting patch of colorful fabric.

She began to knead the oil deep into the soft tender inner thigh area. She
worked on one leg and then the other, starting at her knee and working
down toward her crotch. She moved very carefully as her hands neared
the fabric of the suit, she did not wand to get oil stains on it before
anyone had seen how good she looked in it.

The rhythmic rolling action of the boat seemed almost hypnotic, and
the sound of the wind called to her. She reached for the wine glass
and took several big swallows. The wine too had become warm in the
sun, and the heady aroma filled her senses of taste and smell.

She poured some more oil into her hands and applied it to the ivory
white skin of her inner thighs. The oil started to run down her legs and
began to soak into the suit, she moved her hands quickly in an effort
to stop what she had been trying so hard to prevent. She slid her
thumbs under the edge of the fabric and pulled them up and away
along her inside thigh, trying to squeegee the oil aside.

The problem was that she had just applied too much oil and the
heat of the sun and her skin had made the oil extremely fluid. She no
sooner had pulled the oil away when it would run through her fingers
and head back down her thighs. The next time she made an attempt to
save the fabric she slid her thumbs further in under the edge, the oil
followed and the shortly trimmed hair worked like thousands of small
wicks hungrily pulling the thin oil in. The oil quickly flowed over the
freshly shaved skin, and started to soak into the suit.

She moved as fast as she could, rolling onto her back while pulling the
suit bottom off her hips and then her legs. She looked at the suit and
confirmed that it would need a miracle and some hard hand washing to
save it. The suit fell to the deck as she slid her oil soaked hands down
her chest over her stomach and finally to the oil slicked mound.

Her hands slid so effortlessly over the smooth skin, and tightly trimmed
hair. She moved her hands from the center of her pussy out to and up
her thighs, trying to move the elusive oil. The movement caused her
some slight pleasure as her lips parted and then closed as her hands
moved back down.

Oil was clinging to the short hairs and skin of the outer lips,
and soon it was mixing with her own bodies lubricants. With each cycle
of movements she noticed that the area was becoming increasingly more
slippery. The movements of the boat seemed to be telling to her to
match it's rhythm, and the wind was calling to her from high in the
wires of the mast. The low voice whispered how it longed for her and it
was not only the sun that was making her feel so hot. Her thumbs were
no longer just meeting at the junction of her legs, but they were now
gently and purposely parting her lips and then sliding over the inner
surface as they began their trip back up her thighs.

The warm winds brushed softly against her neck and it felt like the breath
of a lover.

She placed one hand over her wet pussy completely covering it with her
palm pressing down hard trying to satisfy the intense desire - no need
for pressure. The waves were increasing in size and with them the
rolling of the boat. It felt as if she were causing the entire world to
move to the rhythm of her lust. She moved her free hand from her left
thigh and with her fingers just touching the skin it floated up to her
breasts. Her hand was still covered in oil and her own juices and it
slipped over the pre oiled skin and tender nipples.

The once silky smooth nipples were now hard and erect, and extremely
tender. She made slowly smaller circles around her breasts and then
gently squeezed the hard nipples. The tender attention to her breasts
seemed to be directly connected to an increased need for pressure to be
applied to her pussy.

The sun and the wind seemed to be fitting for her. The sun's heat
bathed her body with warmth, and the wind spoke to her with increased
volume as it played in the rigging. The waves continued to build along
with her own momentum. The fingers of her right hand tightened around
the natural curve of her pubic bone. The tips of her fingers slid
effortlessly into the hot wet opening offered by her engorged pussy
lips.

The sensations bought on by the first penetration of her fingers,
shocked her and pleased her at the same time. The emptiness of her wet
pussy and the need for pressure, pushed her on to fill the need. She
slid her hand up the slippery valley between her full lips, until she
could feel the erect clitoris. The combination of oil and her own
juices made things very slippery, and she made tiny frictionless
circles around the excited organ.

With each circle her breathing became shorter and faster. The need to feel
penetration became too overpowering, and she slid her hand back down
and pushed two fingers in as far as she could. The heat from her own
body seemed to eclipse that of the sun.

The sun seemed to sense it's inadequacy and started to retreat over the
top of the hill. The wind seeing it's competition leaving called to her
in a strong low voice, as it told her how beautiful she was.

She did not hear the winds loving words. The only sounds she could
hear were her heart beating and the air flowing in and out of her
open mouth. Her hands were in control and they were touching
just the right places, and trying fulfill her every need and desire.

The rolling of the boat was just adding to the movement of her body as
she arched her back and rocked her pelvis to meet the pressure of her
hands. Her right hand worked feverishly to fill the void and the
demands of her clitoris. She now had three finger inside of her on each
downward slide of her hand. Her thumb was making gentle circles over
and around her engorged clitoris. She could only squeeze one breast at
a time, but she found that if she held her right breast she could
caress her left breast with her for arm.

Deep inside she could feel the beginning of that all elusive climax
starting to build, and she pushed on toward the precipice. The speed
of her right hand had increased without her even thinking about it, the
need was great and she knew that she needed more pressure and
more volume.

With the very next upward movement of her hand she brought all four
finger tips as close together as she could and formed a single pointed
probe. The downward stroke was purposely slow, but the pressure was
intense. All four fingers slid in up to the point that her hand became too
wide, the sensation brought the edge of climax within reach.

She withdrew her fingers and then reinserted them, with each insertion
the need for penetration was being satisfied and she continued. She was
squeezing her breasts tightly and her thumb was applying direct
pressure to her clitoris. She was at the edge, she knew it was only going
to two of three more penetrations. Her hips began to rock uncontrollably
to meet the downward thrust of her hand. Her back was arching up in
an effort to feel more pressure and contact from her left hand and arm.
Just one more thrust of her right hand, she pushed down as hard as she
could and at the same time rocked her hips up. She felt the first electric
shock centered deep within her hungry pussy, the next was more intense
- it took her breath away.

She heard herself moan loudly and her eyes opened just long enough to
see the red color of the sky. It was the next shock that took her and held
her in an intense full body muscle contraction.

She held on to her pussy with as much strength as she had left. She
pinched the nipple of her right breast as her body cried out for more
stimulation. With her fingers in as deep as she could get them, she
curled them inward and held onto her pubic bone and rode out the
convulsions. It seemed like the last wave of electricity went on for
ever, and then it was over - and she could breath again.

She continued to lay on the still warm deck, holding herself as she
watched the last of the sunset and the first of the stars come out.
When she started to get chilly, she pulled the blanket over he
shoulders and went below to the warmth of the cabin and her bunk.
It had been a good day for sailing, reading paper back books, and
fantasies. She still had all day tomorrow to finish the book. Maybe
she would dream of the pirates, maybe they would find her hidden
treasure.

--


Note of the reposter: (F-solo, mast, no pirates) would be a better
story code, but before you read the text (F-solo, mast, wine) was 
better, or?

Headers of the former (re)post:

From: lhundley@ix.netcom.com (Lloyd Hundley)
Subject: PICAROON BAY - Fantasy Lover Story 3
Date: 1996/08/29
Message-ID: <502r1o$13g@sjx-ixn5.ix.netcom.com>
organization: Netcom
x-netcom-date: Wed Aug 28  6:16:40 PM PDT 1996
newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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