## Archive-name: my_sailboat_summer1-2^5

From: pembury@aol.com

Subject: STORY 1/5: "My Sailboat Summer" by Pentland REPOST

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

TO CONTINUE READING, YOU MUST BE OVER 18, AND UNDERSTAND THE TITLE OF THIS NEWSGROUP: alt.sex.stories ======================================

I found my postings appeared on AOL with text overflowing the lines
and the text cut off in length. Fiddling around to find the cause
has lost the momentum in posting these 5 Parts, so Part 1/5 is
posted again, with Part 2, today.

Suggestions to AOL-users:
1. Use General Preferences to Set Letter-Size to Small.
2. Expect to see only the first 10,200 bytes of a posting.
3. Post text with only 70 character per line.

A couple of these 5 Parts are over 10,200 byte: email me for the
whole text if you can't see: "END PART n". PEmbury@aol.com

I replied recently to email from a friend who asked about my summer vacation. You may like to see my reply, too . . . (m/f con otk vx hd)

Lily, you were nice enough to asked in your email last week: > " What has occupied your summer?"

Yes, well I happened to drink too much good black coffee that night and lay awake thinking how best to answer your question . . .

In the following recounting, I linger over the background settings to what happened: read it when you have time for a leisurely reminiscence; I'd like to share some wonderful moments with you . . .

The high point of summer was to have been a sail up the coast of New England with an old school friend. Pete and I had sailed together often before; this time we'd chartered a Cape Dory 31 and arranged to be away from our jobs for two weeks. You may know the Cape Dory, Lil? A very seaworthy sailboat, plenty of room below with bunks for five, a single mast with mainsail and two foresails, built sturdy enough to take you across the Atlantic if you want. The engine could make about six knots: OK for getting in and out of a dock, but not much good for going anywhere. She was six tons of sailor's boat!

We had taken ownership and stowed away our provisions on board in the dawn light, and we were almost ready to cast off . . . when Pete's phone rang.

Well, (I'm sure you've guessed, way ahead of me, I'm useless at telling stories!) his mother had been rushed to hospital in Arizona . . . Pete had to run for the first airplane!

As Pete drove off, he leaned out the window and shouted: "Go alone, Pent", (a Cape Dory that size *can* be sailed single-handed by an experienced person), "or take anyone!"

It felt as though the clock had stopped: I was really down and went off to a sidewalk restaurant to think what to do. I got a table outside; it was like one of those places in Vail or Aspen: the waitresses were all college students wearing sneakers, khaki shorts and a white shirt. Any girl looks good dressed like that, but the one who came to my table that morning was a peach!

She had fair hair and the honey-colored silky-smooth skin of the Scandinavian or South African. Her face had pleasantly rounded cheeks (and so did her bottom!); her eyes were grey, intelligent and full of fun! She was about five foot four with a trim figure: looked as though she worked-out regularly.

Name was on the shirt, and I asked her: "Nicki, a coffe and croissant, please". When she brought them I took my life in both hands and asked: "Nicki, do you sail, Nicki?"

She must have detected the urgency in my voice: "If that storm came over us" she replied, pointing to a black thunder cloud on the horizon, "I'd raise the storm jib, reef the main, batten the hatches and keep her head-on to the wind".

"Picked up a Cape Dory 31 this morning; two-week charter to cruise this New England coast with my buddy, but he had a family crisis. You like to come? Can you possibly get away, Nicki?", trying not to sound absolutely idiotic.

"I was fired an hour ago!" Nicki said "I just have to work out this shift and I'll be free at noon"

"What happened?" I asked, feeling suddenly cautious . . .

"The owner said I sassed him. Maybe I did. He's an idiot!"

"Nicki, if you sass me on the boat, I won't fire you; I'll put you over my knee and give you a spanking you will never forget!"

"Sounds like the school I was at!", she said, flushing a bit and with a fleeting look of pain in her eye at the memory. "There's one thing, though: I'm not very experienced, vagina intacta and all that sort of thing. You must give me your word that won't change in the two weeks!" she demanded, her eyes showing real concern.

"On my honor, Nicki! You will return every bit as inact as you went! We are going to have a wonderful fortnight; you'll love the New England coast!

"You need to be making some money in place of your job here; how about $500 clear for each week; all expenses paid. Okay? This is for my breakfast and any extra kit you may want for the boat", giving her $200 in 20's. "Can I pick you up on the corner with your bags at one?"

"Sure can! What's your name, skipper?"

"Pentland; Pent to you. And, Nicki, there's just one thing you need to do before I pick you up: have a crap! Our holding tank needs all the help we can give it". We were going to be tripping over each other for the next two weeks: just as well to be on easy terms about intimate basics right from the start!

"Aye, aye, skipper", Nicki grinned, and walked away from my table almost dancing with anticipation. We were off on the right foot!

Our departure went smoothly. Nicki knew sailboats I could see from the way she inspected the jibs, engine, jury tiller and so on. She opened her suitcase to stow away the contents: it seemed to hold little outside of shorts, slacks, T-shirts, cotton underwear, a new windbreaker, dop bag . . . and a well-cuddled teddy bear.

We cast off half an hour later. It was ideal weather; blue sky with a twenty knot breeze from the south. We cleared the harbor on the engine, then set an easterly course up the Sound towards Milford.

We talked as the breeze moved us smoothly along, discretely probing each other's backgrounds. Nicki had been to a girls' boarding school and was now at Cambridge living in Newnham, the last of the women-only colleges. She had done well, reading modern history in her freshman year, and planned more of the same, heading for a career in the United Nations.

Nicki'd taken up swimming "to keep my weight down, in spite of the Fudge Kitchen on KP", and had joined The Union for their political debates and nice parties.

Her mother was from South Africa (so I had been right about her complexion!); Daddy was "something in the city" (London); they lived in Brighton and her favorite fun there was to crew for friends on their sailboats. She had sailed right around Britain one summer. "Mummy says my sailing friends are all such nice people; it's a pity but she and Daddy have never sailed themselves!". Nicki was over in USA with student-friends from Newnham college, earning pocket money for the coming year; she'd left a message on the telephone for one of them, saying she would be back in two weeks after sailing up the New England coast, "so they won't worry about me, Pent!".

I told Nicki how that I'd been at Cambridge too, some years before, and I'd got my Master's in science . . . in spite of being on the university judo team and having a riotous social life.

Nicki took the wheel from me and I went below to check the operation of the shower and the head: both Okay! I came up to take the boat into Milford and we docked there without a hitch; we went ashore for a shower; Nicki washed some things and returned to the boat to hang them out. I went on to a bar where she joined me later.

We found a little restaurant where we ate and talked about plans for the next day: I knew a place called Duck Island, about 30 miles further along the coast, a mile offshore, with breakwaters to give shelter for boats that dropped anchor. We could moor there for the night, "away from all this civilization". I showed the island to Nicki on the chart which I'd brought along and she thought it sounded great!

We turned in at nine that night, ready for an early start, me doing my best all the time to act like her big brother. We didn't need riding lights, moored in port, of course; I made all fast on deck before following Nicki below. She was already in her bunk (with her teddy!) when I came down and stripped to my skivvies. Just before putting the out the light, I went over and kissed Nicki on the forehead and wished her "Sweet dreams, Nicki, my dear. It's wonderful that you were able to come!" She gave a contented smile and gurgling sound: "Thanks for asking me, Pent!"

As I lay drowsing off to sleep, I wondered how come Nicki, at 19, was still a virgin cuddling a teddy bear. She had been to a girls' school, of course . . . and all the boys she knew had probably been to boys' schools . . . it's the way wealthy Brits cut down on baby-making amongst their kids, reinforced by them seeing the occasional pregnant miscreant who is simply whisked away and vanishes from view for ever . . . some boys get actively interested in other boys, and girls in girls . . . but most never grow beyond pleasuring themselves until their twenties, when the force of their early conditioning starts to lose its grip on them . . .

I would explore what Nicki was happy to do by seeing her reactions to double entendres and likely situations . . . the signs of "go" were usually very clear: I remembered girls who had stood and just shaken like an aspen leaf the first time when they were ready and willing . . we could always spend a seductive evening dining with candlelight and good wines at one of the better restaurants along this coast . . . patience! . . . patience!! . . . and after all that, Nicki might not be happy with me doing any more this whole fortnight than pleasure her with my tongue, of course . . .

We went ashore in the morning to get cleaned up. We got coffee and doughnuts to go, and cast off at eight, with another good day of sailing weather. We made it to Duck Island about four in the afternoon. The anchorage, with breakwaters to shelter us from the seas, *was* good, but this "roughing it" in open water is not a popular way to spend the night, and no other boats were there: exactly what I'd hoped.

The sea was fairly calm; we lowered the ladder and dived in for a swim . . . skinny dipping. Nicki's budding breasts nearly needed a bra but not quite, and she had a beautifully rounded bottom. She swam like a fish and enjoyed throwing her legs up in the air while she swam and diving to explore the bottom; the water was only about ten foot deep and I joined her down there, and we explored the sea bed together, me acting strictly brotherly!

It was wonderfully refreshing, and we came out raring for food. Nicki showered first then, while I had my shower, she cooked the supper: fried bratwurst and instant-mashed-potato! We ate below in the cabin and washed the food down with beer, and sat comfortably digesting afterwards, reading magazines.

After half an hour or so: "Right!", I said, "I'll write up the log; you wash up!"

"I cooked! The least you can do is wash up, Pent!", and I saw Nicki's face was slightly flushed and her chin seemed to stick out a bit as she glared at me.

"I'm not surprised you got fired!", I said, "*That* is sass! You know what I said before you came aboard. Come over here, Nicki". I was not going to give her any second chance: she might apologize and *do* the washing up! "If I have to fetch you, it'll be much worse for you!"

"*You* should do the washing up, Pent!", frowning, and her face a bit redder and her chin stuck out even more.

I got up and wrapped my arms around Nicki so she could not escape, then lifted her bodily up and over my knees as I sat down again on my stool: I had six inches more in height than Nicki, which made it easy for me: "You didn't come when I told you to! That means you get it on your bare bottom!", as I unhitched her waist buckle and pulled her shorts and panties down to her ankles.

"Nooo! nooo! you bully! that's not faaair!", she shouted, but not too loudly: another boat could pass near us at any time, and she knew it!

Note: Comments will be most welcome. Thank you! Pent <PEmbury@aol.com>

Path: ultrasparc-2.g-net.net!cpk-news-feed1.bbnplanet.com!su-news-hub1.bbnplanet.com!news.bbnplanet.com!cam-news-hub1.bbnplanet.com!howland.erols.net!portc02.blue.aol.com!audrey01.news.aol.com!not-for-mail From: pembury@aol.com Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories Subject: STORY 2/5: "My Sailboat Summer" by Pentland Date: 22 Nov 1996 20:53:50 GMT Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com Lines: 124 Message-ID: <19961122205500.PAA07456@ladder01.news.aol.com> NNTP-Posting-Host: ladder01.news.aol.com X-Admin: news@aol.com

Lily, this is: PART 2

I held Nicki down firmly with my left arm and grabbed her free wrist, and started to spank her rear end, lightly at first, then I began to wallop her harder. She was soon shouting: "Nooo! Oh nooo! Nooo! Oh stop! I didn't mean it! Nooo!"

The cheeks of Nicki's bottom were bouncing with each smack. They had begun as silky honey-colored globes; now they were beginning to get red, and redder! It was a wonderful erotic sight, and a wild sensation as her bare midriff squirmed and pressed against my legs.

My cock was quickly rigid and pressing through my shorts up against Nicki's mons; no question, she was loving this and was getting tumes- cent and wet, rubbing her clit on my rock-hard cock as I continued to spank . . . quite hard: enough to keep feeding her rising excitement while her bottom got more and more red and her squirming around became violently agitated. Suddenly, after a long time of spanking, Nicki went stiff with just her pelvis jerking up and down against my hard cock, shouting as she did it: "Ooooh, Pent! Pent! Pent! Pent! Pent! Pent! Pent! . . ."

Then Nicki collapsed limp on my lap, and I stopped.

When she began to un-tense herself, I said with mock seriousness: "Well, I think you will remember this spanking, Nicki! Any time you sass me, I'll punish you the same way again! And maybe I'll do it sometimes even if you *don't* sass me, just for the good of your soul! Now let me try and take some of the pain away". And I started to gently massage Nicki's lovely red bottom.

I'd seen a bottle of baby-oil in her things, and reached over for it. "Rubbing with this is even better for a red bottom!", and I poured a little of the oil on her scarlet cheeks and rubbed them very lightly . . . and she started to give appreciative moans.

After rubbing Nicki's bottom gently all over with the oil, I poured some directly down into the cleft between her lovely cheeks and followed it with a finger. I first gently circled her lips, then moved my finger right across them with a lingering touch . . . and drew a deep approving "Ooooh!" as Nicki shook with a slight tremor under my hands.

I spent the next half hour in delicate seductive massage of her bottom. Using both hands now, I gently pushed and probed at her lips, then moved away across the delectable curves of her derriere, around the sides of her cheeks, down along the lines where the back of her thighs met her bottom, down between her legs to brush along her labia and up to her clitoris, which had her gasping, then back to push gently on her nether lips again . . . a little more firmly each time I returned to that spot. Nicki's sighs and moans told me that she found her greatest pleasure as my thumb pressed on her firm little anus. . . her tightly closed lips . . . her coral flower.

I was talking all the time about the best way to sail into the different ports on this northeast coast: a person will often let you do the most outrageous things to them, as you know Lily, as long as you keep up a flow of talk about something completely different! And darkness was falling outside: we could only just see each other now in the cabin.

I was slowly able to gain an entrance, after about half an hour of persistent massage and pressure with my probing thumb. Plenty of baby oil was the answer, and I was eventually able to slide easily back and fore, in and out of her delicious rotundity.

"Lie up on the wide bunk, Nicki; we can remove the pain even better there!", and she gave a compliant grunt, smiling up at me as she moved.

I slid out of my clothes and slathered plenty of the baby-oil onto my yard and lay gently on top of Nicki. I slid into her warm bottom slowly by moving myself up towards her head: this way, my yard went into her right up along the line of her rectum. I went in very slowly, making sure Nicki was happy with me being inside her heavenly bottom at every stage as my yard slid in, pulled out, then slid back in again, a bit further each time.

At last, after what seemed ages spent in carefully relaxing Nicki's coral lips, I had slid right in up to the hilt. And Nicki was lying under me, moving her bottom around sensuously and giving deep-throated murmurs of delight!

When I had first gone as far in as I could, and my pelvis was pressed firmly against the sensuous twin cushions of her beautiful bottom, Nicki turned her face over her shoulder and said: "Oooh! That gives a gorgeous feeling that goes right through me, Pent. It's maaaarvelous!"

My yard was such a snug fit inside Nicki's tight warm bottom that I had the greatest difficulty to stop from ejaculating as soon as I had slid all the way into her. It felt as if Nicki's seductive bottom was sucking my yard in, and making to milk me of my semen!

"You are the most lovely girl I've ever known, Nicki!", I replied as I kissed her warm face.

By staying completely still for minutes at a time, I managed to prolong our ecstasy for almost half an hour. Then I felt Nicki's breath start to come in short gasps, and she trembled all over. As Nicki surged towards her second orgasm, I no longer held onto my pounding urges and let fly with spasm after spasm of semen shooting up into Nicki's angelic bottom. This triggered her joy, and Nicki was giving great deep-throated shouts of primitive triumph as she came . . no matter if there were other boats near us or not!

I pulled a blanket over the top of us, and we fell asleep just as we were, with Nicki cuddled from behind in my arms. I woke later in the night, made everything secure and shut the hatch: I had thought to put on the riding lights *before* we ate, knowing the open invitation that I hoped this mooring would be to Nicki.

And the previous night I had been wondering how to find out what Nicki would be happy to let me to do!

Note: Comments will be most welcome. Thank you! Pent <PEmbury@aol.com>

Last modified (12/24/96 14:12:04) by Eli-the-Bearded.

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