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Subject: Title story: "Tyler's Story" Author: Big Sarah 46107504
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Date: Sun, 12 Jun 2005 20:18:30 +0000
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Tyler's Story
Wow! Is it kewl living on a yacht or what? And Scott's yacht isn't a run-of-the
mill little yacht, but it's a 37 foot yacht! On the lower deck it's got two
staterooms with king sized beds, and a stateroom with twin beds. On the main
deck are the master suite, an office and a dining salon. The sky deck has the
pilot house and a lounge. And then there's the flying bridge with a Jacuzzi. It
took me a few weeks to really learn my way around - and figure out that when
Scott mentioned the "head" that he was talking about the bathroom. Oh, and
"starboard" means right and "port" means left. But I've got all that stuff
figured out by now.
I came to live with Scott last year when I was fifteen. Actually Scott is Uncle
Scott to me even though he wants me to just call him "Scott." My Dad had lost
his job and Mom's waitress job wasn't bringing in much money - and with 7 kids
ranging from 4 to 16 it takes a fair amount just to feed us every week. So my
Dad was talking to Scott (who's Dad's youngest brother) and Uncle Scott, oopss
just "Scott", volunteered that I could come and live with him while Mom and Dad
were trying to get back on their feet. And since I was at that teenage boy stage
where I was eating everything in sight, getting me out of the house for awhile
would help a lot with the grocery bill.
At first I wasn't too keen on the idea, like why would I want to move from our
home in West Virginia to a yacht in the Florida Keys. And miss all my friends.
And stuff like that. But Dad gave me this man-to-man talk about how it would
really help the family, and it was my choice to make, and all that - how could I
turn him down. So in August Mom packed all my clothes, there weren't a lot of
them - mostly hand-me-downs from my older brother Ray, and I got on a plane.
Well shit, my flight was late and I missed my connection in Atlanta and had to
spend the night in the airport but the next day I caught another flight and got
into Fort Lauderdale just before noon.
Scott was waiting for me at the gate, holding up a piece of cardboard with my
name on it. I'm glad he did 'cause I wouldn't have recognized him otherwise.
Like, Scott's a lot younger than my Dad and the only photos that I've seen of
him were taken when he was nine or ten years old - I think that he's twenty-
seven now - and he and Dad never had a lot in common. The fact that Scott wrote
a couple of books that sold pretty well, and made a lot of money, and lives on
this big yacht in Florida didn't give them a lot of common interests.
So anyway, Scott got my ratty old bag from the luggage pickup area and we hiked
out to the parking lot, got into his BMW convertible and headed south on Route
1. With the top down, and the sun shining, and the warm sea breezes, I began to
relax and think that maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all. After
about a three hour ride, which included a really neat "road rage" incident in
Miami (another story for later), we got to the Key ("island") where his yacht
is berthed. That was pretty kewl too - a small marina with only about twenty
yachts in it but they ranged in size from about 30 feet to over forty feet. So
Scott took me aboard, gave me a quick tour, and headed into a nearby town to do
some shopping.
I guess I was kinda tired and hungry for I fixed myself a sandwich and a soda
and then just sat in a comfortable chair in the lounge and fell asleep. It musta
been around five o'clock or so when the sound of footsteps awakened me and I
realized that Scott had returned. "OK, Tyler", he said, "Come up on deck.
There's a ritual that we have to go through." I'm thinking like what the fuck is
going on, but I followed him to the upper deck where he picked up my suitcase
from the deck and heaved it our into the bay, where it floated for a minute or
so and then sank out of sight. "Hey man, those are my fucking clothes! What the
hell are you doing?" I shouted at him. "Not to worry", he replied, "These will
work better" as he handed me several shopping bags.
He'd bought me some new clothes - not a lot, but a couple of sweatshirts,
several pairs of shorts, two pairs of sandals (he got the size right!) and
several swimsuits. Scott explained that not only were my old clothes pretty
ratty but they were wrong for the climate and that these new clothes would carry
me for a couple of days and then we could make another shopping run to the town.
I guess that he was right as even at five o'clock in the afternoon the
temperature was in the 90's and I was sweating like a pig in my long-sleeved
shirt and jeans. So I didn't argue when he suggested that I go down to my cabin,
put on a swim suit and then come up and cool off with a swim.
In my cabin, I shucked off my clothes and tossed them in a corner (no Mom to
keep after me to be neat!) I tore open the package with the swim suit in it and
was kinda embarrassed when I put it on as it was little more than a bikini,
really, and you could clearly see the outline of my cock through the thin
fabric. But there wasn't much else to put on and I sure wasn't going to go
swimming in my jeans. As I returned to the deck, Scott looked at me and told me
that the only thing wrong now was that I didn't have a tan - I was that pasty
West Virginia white - but that problem would take care of itself shortly. So we
jumped in the water, swam and horsed around a little, and then we got out and he
grilled some steaks for supper. By this time the sun had gone down and I was
getting to be a little chilly in my bikini so I pulled on a sweatshirt and we
just sat there for the rest of the evening, talking and bullshitting, before I
headed off to my cabin around eleven o'clock.
So for the next couple of days, I just kind of relaxed, learned my way around
the yacht, swam a lot, and lay in the sun - and got a monster of a sunburn the
first day - but I was a lot more careful and used sunblock after that. Scott was
right, you didn't need a lot of fancy clothes while you were just relaxing on
the yacht. In fact about all I ever wore were the bikini swim suits that he'd
bought me, maybe with a sweatshirt if it was a little cool at times. I began to
think that this was a pretty kewl way of life.
I think I said that Scott's about twenty seven years old. He's got a fairly good
build, trim and with no fat, and he's got a great tan - but then almost everyone
down here does. He's about 5' 10" or so and I guess that he weighs about 180 or
190. He got blue eyes and curly blond hair - I think that it's been bleached by
the sun. One day while we were just sitting around after supper and enjoying the
weather, I kinds asked him if he was dating anyone and he changed the subject.
Since them I've been thinking about it and I wonder if he's gay, or something.
Like he's never said anything either way, and I've never seen any guys, or girls
for that matter, on the yacht. But he does go into a nearby town several nights
a week and he hasn't come home till morning on several occasions. The marina is
really dead with most of the owners only showing up to use their yachts
occasionally on the weekends. So one day I was getting set to take a swim and
Scott said: "You know Tyler, you really don't need that suit. There's no one
here today except for you and me." I just looked at him for a second and then
squirmed out of my bikini and jumped into the water. After the first few moments
when I could feel my dick flopping freely in the water as I swam around, I had
to admit that it did feel pretty good.
Now I'm not bragging or anything but in the showers after gym class when I
checked out the size of my dick compared to the other guys, I was pleased with
its size. Its about an inch thick and maybe five inches long. Of course, when I
jerk off and it gets hard, it swells to about an inch and a half in thickness
and a good seven inches long. As I got out of the water that first day without
my bikini on, I noticed that Scott was checking out my crotch. It embarrassed me
to have him staring at me like that and I immediately got this huge boner on, so
I flopped down on my stomach on a deck chair to cover it up.
Like Scott hadn't tried to do anything to me or anything and over the next
week or so I got used to him looking at me occasionally and pretty much
ignored it. I even found myself looking at him once or twice. As I adjusted to
the slower paced casual life style, and the usually deserted marina, I began
to dress more and more casually and soon was wearing clothing only when I need
to because of some cool weather. The air conditioning aboard the yacht was set
to keep the living spaces fairly warm and eventually I was going naked most of
the time. It wasn't that I was trying to show off or anything - it just seemed
kind of natural.
It was getting close to the end of the summer and I was thinking about school.
Actually, I was thinking about not going to school. I'd never been a good
student and the idea of having to learn my way around a new school, and figure
out how to sneak answers on the tests, and all that kinda turned me off. Plus
I'd really enjoyed just relaxing on Scott's yacht. So one morning over breakfast
I kinda mentioned to him that school would probably be starting up in several
weeks. "Yeah, it probably will. So what?" he asked me. "Uh, well", I stammered,
"I was like, thinking about taking a year off. If that's OK with you, of
course." "Whatever", he replied and that was the end of that. Scotts pretty
kewl. So that fall we'd occasionally talk to my parents or send them letters,
but were pretty much noncommittal about what I was doing (or not doing). As time
went on my parents were still having problems and my contacts with them became
fewer and farther between.
A week or so later the weather was pretty hot and I had gone swimming to cool
off. As usual the marina was deserted so I swam in the nude. After swimming I
climbed back onto the ramp at the back of the yacht and made my way up to the
flying deck where I sprawled on the lounge and began to apply some lotion to
replace the sunblock that had been washed off my body by the seawater. As I lay
there Scott came up and took the bottle of lotion from my hand. He gently rolled
me over on my stomach and generously applied the lotion to my back, legs and
buttocks - gently massaging it into my skin. He then rolled me over onto my back
and applied the lotion to my chest, slowly moving down to my waist. When he
reached my cock and balls he applied a large amount of the lotion to them and
slowly rubbed it in as I developed a massive erection. I think he knew just how
much he could fondle me as he stopped just before I shot my load, worked his way
down my legs and then left. I couldn't believe this, I had just let my uncle
fondly my private parts. And the weirdest thing was that I had enjoyed it. I was
so turned on that I lay there on my back, grabbed my cock, and with several
strokes shot my cum up onto my chest.
We kinda fell into a routine after that. Unless Scott had to go into town to
work that day, which almost never happened, I'd let him apply the sunblock to my
body. Actually, I'm not sure that it was the same sunblock that I had been using
because it came out of a different looking bottle but it seemed to work just as
well or better. I hadn't gotten any more sunburn and in fact had the beginning
of a pretty good tan. So when I was ready to go out on the deck for the day I'd
trot over to Scott and just stand there and he'd know what I wanted him to do.
So we'd go out on the deck and I'd lie down on a lounge chair and he'd apply the
lotion to my body, first to one side and then to the other, not in any
particular order. He'd do a really good job - applying a lot of the lotion and
working it in with strong strokes of his hands. Scott would apply it all over my
body even though it seemed like he concentrated on my crotch and rear end and
upper thighs more that the rest of my body. But after that first time which had
seemed a little strange when he gently rubbed the lotion on my cock and balls,
it now just felt natural and I enjoyed feeling his hands moving over my body.
The lotion had a slight fragrance to it, and it left my skin looking really
smooth and soft and glistening in the sun. In a way it was like having a massage
and quite often I'd doze off afterward and just lie there in the warm sun.
A week or so later, Scott suggested that we go into town, maybe do some
shopping, and grab something to eat. Obviously I had to put on some clothes but
the shorts that he had bought me several months ago and which had seemed to fit
OK at the time were really tight on me now. I could pull them on but they were
very tight across my butt so when we were in town I picked up several more pairs
that were a couple of sizes larger. Actually, while I was in the fitting room I
wadded up my old shorts and stuffed them under the bench and wore the new ones
around for the rest of the day so that I'd be more comfortable.
All the sun is bleaching my hair to a lighter shade. It may have something to do
with all the swimming in the salt water as well. Back in West Virginia my hair
had been a dark shade of blonde but now it has streaks of a much lighter color
in it. Because my folks didn't have much money I hadn't had a real haircut for
several years. My father offered to trim it for my but I saw what it looked like
when he cut my older brother's hair and told him no thanks. So my wavy masses of
blond hair hang down to my shoulders and I have to continually brush them back
from my face. I was sitting in a deck chair yesterday and Scott sat down beside
me, and without saying anything took his right hand and began to run it through
my hair and rub my scalp. It felt so good that I just relaxed and leaned against
him and soon fell asleep, snuggled up against him.
Something embarrassing happened to me today. I don't know whether I mentioned
that Scott's yacht has a 17' Zodiac that we use whenever we don't want to go to
the trouble of moving and mooring the yacht - which is almost all the time. So
anyway, Scott's been teaching me to pilot the Zodiac and the weather was calm
and sunny today so we decided to take the Zodiac out for a spin and he let me
pilot it. So I was standing on its upper deck, running at nearly full throttle,
and enjoying the feel of the air rushing over my body, the sound of the engines,
and the responsiveness of the boat to the controls under my hands - pretty soon
I got this huge erection - which really didn't bother me AT ALL! We must have
been clipping along at about 40 knots when we came up behind what looked to be
about a 42 foot sailboat chugging along under diesel power. I throttled the
Zodiac back and pulled within a hundred feet or so of the sailboat so I could
look her over. It must have been some sort of charter because there were about
twenty young women sunning themselves on the deck in their bikinis and they had
their stereo blasting away. So anyway, you're supposed to acknowledge other
boats when you overtake them so I smiled and waved at them. A couple of the
girls noticed me and then shortly all the girls were looking at me, and
pointing, and laughing. And I realized that, as usual, I hadn't put on a
swimsuit that morning and so here I am, standing in full view on the upper deck
of the Zodiac, buck naked, and with my cock sticking straight up in the air. I
was so embarrassed that I gave the Zodiac full throttle and pulled away from the
sailboat while I blushed (all over) and wished that I could crawl into a hole
somewhere and hide. I heard this noise behind me and here's Scott, rolling on
the deck and laughing his fool head off. Thanks for warning me, you dork!
It was now late fall and the weather was beginning to get cooler. Well, like in
West Virginia we'd probably have had a snowfall or two by now but in the keys
all that it meant was that at night it might get down into the lower 50's.
Still, we could see that winter was approaching and Scott told me that he
usually moved his yacht down to the Mexican coast about this time. So a couple
of weeks later we'd gotten things pretty well arranged and he hired three
crewmen to make the run down to Mexico with us. It took us two days and was a
pretty nice cruise, really - I'd never been to sea on a yacht before and I liked
it - except for that time when we crossed the Gulf Stream and I tossed my
cookies due to the tossing of the yacht. But anyway, the crew members were
pretty discreet and stayed out of our way most of the time, so I could still lie
in the sun nude and sunbathe.
When we reached our destination, it was a pretty little fishing village at the
base of some large mountains. There were a number of other boats in the harbor -
mostly about the same as ours. So after we anchored Scott told me to jump into
the dinghy and he'd show me around. "Uh, lemmie put some clothes on", I said.
"Don't worry", he replied, "this is a 'clothing optional' port." Well I figured
that I knew what clothing optional meant but I wasn't sure that I wanted to walk
around naked in front of strangers. And I noticed that Scott wasn't going
"clothing optional" even though his mini bikini didn't leave anything to the
imagination. So I ran belowdecks and pulled on a pair of shorts. "Pulled on" is
right, they were so tight that I could hardly get them over my hips, but I
finally did and we went ashore. Scott was right, most of the folks walking
around didn't have any clothes on. Well the Mexicans that lived in the town
mostly did, but all the folks from the yachts were mostly naked. And everybody
pretty much acted like it was no big deal - men and women, boys and girls - like
there wasn't any staring (not too much, anyway), or groping or anything like
that. So I figured that the next time I came in I'd "go with the flow" and ditch
my clothes.
After we got back to the yacht and I went to my stateroom, I squirmed out of my
shorts and looked at myself in the mirror - something I hadn't really done for
several months. I was surprised to see how much weight I had gained below my
waist. My buttocks were very full and rounded. My upper thighs were larger and
in fact rubbed together as I walked. And my hips were very prominent. I guess
that the change had been so slow that I hadn't realized how my figure was
changing. I decided that when I went into the town again I'd better get some
larger clothes. So when I went back in a couple of days later, I just wore a
pair of sandals, and a small leather bag on a cord around my neck to carry my
money and some photo identification. After the first couple of minutes it didn't
seem at all strange to be walking around in the nude. One funny thing did happen
as I was walking out of one of the shops. One of the salesclerks came running
after me and yelled: "Miss, I think you left one of your packages behind." When
I stopped and turned around and he got a good look at me he blushed and said:
"Sorry about that", and handed me the package I had forgotten. I realized that
with my long hair, and my big soft ass and wide hips, that from the rear I
actually looked like a girl. That was pretty funny.
I told Scott about that after supper that night as we were sitting out on the
deck with the harbor's shore in the background and we both had a good laugh. He
told me that he had noticed that I had gained some weight but that he thought
that it looked really good on me. And in fact he had bought me a few new clothes
that he thought would fit me better and just hadn't had a chance to give them to
me yet. So he went to his stateroom and returned with several packages. I opened
them and realized that they were all items that emphasized the shape of my
bottom and hips. There were several thongs that didn't really cover anything up
but which emphasized the large cheeks of my ass. And there were several pairs of
shorts that were so small that they only partly covered me up and let my ass
show beneath their bottom. And there was a pair of red mesh stretch pants that
hid nothing but which really emphasized my hips. I tried them on and Scott said
that I looked so cute in them that he wanted to take my picture. So I turned my
back on him, and pulled the top of the pants down to fully expose my ass to him
as he snapped the shot. I'll attach a copy of the photo (Tyler.JPG) to show you
what it looked like.
A month or so after we anchored in Mexico, there was a marine storm warning and
we had to close the yacht up tight and either tie down everything on the outside
decks or bring it inside. We were tossing around a little when I went to bed but
it wasn't too bad. But early in the morning the full force of the storm hit us.
Even inside the breakwater there were twenty foot swells and we were getting
knocked around pretty badly. One of the swells knocked be out of my bed, I was
half asleep, and the emergency lights had failed. So I was in the pitch
darkness, and had no idea where I was and I panicked and started screaming.
Scott heard me and made it to my stateroom and helped me back to his stateroom
where we got in his bed and he just held me close till the storm slackened off
in the morning.
In the morning when we went out on deck we could see several boats had broken
their moorings and had been tossed up on the shore. Our yacht was OK except for
some scratches and dings on the hull where something had scraped us. I guess
that I was still pretty shaken up for as we were having breakfast, my teeth
started chattering and then my whole body was shaking. Scott had to hold me for
awhile till I quieted down. That night as I was getting ready to go to bed it
started all over again so Scott again invited me to sleep with him. I hadn't
realized it the night before but he slept in the nude as I did, and it just felt
so comforting to be able to snuggle my body up to his and feel his arms around
me as we lay in his bed. After that second night, we didn't really talk about it
or anything but I moved my gear into Scott's cabin and began to sleep with him
every night.
Even though I never wear any clothing during the day, either when I'm on the
boat or visiting the town, sometimes when we have dinner in the evening I'll
"dress up" for Scott. Well it's not like I'll put on a tuxedo or anything, but I
might put on one of my thongs, or the tight pants that emphasize my hips and
buttocks. Tonight when we were getting ready for Supper, Scott told me that he
had another present for me and handed me a package from one of the better stores
in town. When I opened it, I found that it contained a pair of white stretch
pants, cut very low in the waist, and it had one other feature - there was a
large opening in the crotch. So when I put them on they fit very tightly and
really showed off my large ass, and then in front there were my cock and balls
prominently displayed. As we were having supper, I was getting kinda turned on
by this and got this big boner. I could tell that Scott liked the display as
well as I could see his erection through the thin fabric of his bikini briefs.
After supper we went into the lounge and he had me sit back in a comfortable
chair and then dropped to his knees in front of me, He leaned forward and kissed
the tip of my erect cock. Then he slowly opened his mouth and put his lips
around its tip. I can't describe the pleasure I felt as his warm lips encircled
my cock and his tongue began gently licking its tip. He leaned forward, taking
more and more of it in his mouth, and began slowly moving up and down on it,
sucking gently. Holy Shit! I couldn't stop myself and shot my wad into his
mouth. Later, as we lay in bed together, he whispered that he'd wanted to do
that since the first day he had met me at the airport and he hoped that he
hadn't grossed me out or anything. I replied that I had never felt that
wonderful and he could gross me out whenever he wanted to - as often as he
wanted to.
Since that wonderful first night, Scott's been going down on me once or twice a
day - and I love it! I've been wondering what it would feel like to take his
cock in my mouth and return the favor, but I haven't worked up my courage to do
that yet. Sometimes when we lie together in bed, I'll take his dick in my hand
and stroke it till he comes, shooting his jets of hot cum onto my chest, and
then I'll snuggle up to him and go to sleep in his arms.
The other night, as we were laying in bed, slowly drifting off to sleep in each
others arms, Scott asked me if I'd so something for him. I asked him what it was
that he wanted and he told me that he really loved my body, but was wondering
whether I would mind shaving off my body hair for him. I think I loved Scott so
much that I would have done whatever he asked of me so starting the next
morning, I was very careful to shave my armpits and legs every day. Even though
he hadn't asked me, I decided to shave my crotch area and the hair on my balls
as well. After I had shaved, and rubbed some lotion on the shaved skin to
eliminate chapping and keep it soft, I would go out onto the deck and Scott
would give me my morning massage and cover my body with lotion. It felt so good
to lie there with the sun shining on my glistening, smooth body and feel his
hands rubbing over me.
With all the sun, I've gotten a really dark tan, and my hair is a light blonde
with streaks of darker blonde here and there. It now hangs several inches below
my shoulders and I've begun to use conditioner on it and brush it every day to
offset the drying effects of the sun and saltwater. After Scott gives me my
morning massage, I think I look really nice with my light hair a cute contrast
to the dark brown glistening skin of my body.
I've continued to gain weight in my hips and buttocks. It's not like I'm getting
fat or anything but my body now has a very womanly shape below the waist. I walk
a little differently now and the added weight on my backside shifts gently from
side to side as I walk along. I realized when I was walking through town the
other day that I was actually emphasizing my stride so as to wiggle my ass more.
It just felt really good to feel the weight of my butt and feel it moving back
and forth. Scott and I were standing at the railing of the yacht that and one of
his hands slowly moved down and rested on one of the cheeks of my ass. He gently
rubbed and massaged its warm softness as he whispered in my ear: "So beautiful."
I was so happy I almost cried.
That night, when we went to bed, I asked Scott to lay on his back as I drew back
the covers from our bodies. I move lower in the bed till I could reach his cock.
I hadn't paid too much attention before but I knew that he hadn't been "cut" and
this was my first chance to look closely at his foreskin. I gently drew it back
and marveled at the large purple head on his member. I moved forward and licked
it with my tongue, and moved farther forward and enveloped it with my lips. It
felt so hot and wonderful in my mouth and I moved lower and lower, taking more
and more of it into me. I could feel the head of his cock rubbing against the
back of my mouth and then sliding partly down my throat. I began to lick and
suck on his cock and I moved upward and downward on it, enjoying its slippery
surface as I coated it with my saliva. I did this for what seemed like ages till
Scott shuddered under me, thrust his hips upward and his cock farther down my
throat and released a hot jet of liquid into me. I almost gagged but managed to
swallow it. After that we lay silently in each others arms and kissed for what
seemed an eternity.
I had a shock when we cruised back to Florida that summer. I was about to step
off the yacht onto the dock when Scott said: "Tyler, uh, haven't you forgotten
something?" It took me a second or so to realize that I didn't have any clothes
on. Like, the Florida Keys may be tolerant, but you still have to wear some
clothes. The problem was that I didn't really have any clothes that fit me,
except for the one I had been using to "dress up" for dinner and those really
weren't appropriate for shore wear. So Scott went into town and bought me a
couple of pairs of shorts and sweatpants. I can wear them when I have to but I
really hate the feel of clothing against my body now so I don't leave the boat
too often these days.
Later that summer, we had a letter from my Mom and I guess things in West
Virginia went from bad to worse and Dad walked out on her. She seemed to think
that having me stay with Scott was working out really well and she wondered if
the twins, Robin and Skylar, could come down and join us - "just for a short
time." Well, Robin and Skylar were only a year younger than me which would make
them fifteen now. And they were both like typical teenage boy assholes as I
remembered them. But Scott talked to my mom on the phone several times and we're
driving up to Miami International tomorrow to pick them up and bring them down
to the yacht.
But that's another Story……….
Tyler
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