
Written for fun.  Our thanks to Dr. Spin and Marie Durois for their help 
proofing and improving the story line.

Permission is not granted to posting to any site for profit.                                                                           






                       Coveting


Coveting an ancient sport. I was in a sporting mood. My quarry? Dave's wife Carol. A 
most covetable woman.  I'm not sure if covetable' is even a word, but then, who cares, I 
thought.  Coveting is a harmless sport and Carol's long legs and beautiful face made for 
an exhilarating covet. Of course, the sport of coveting never goes any further. Carol 
constantly made this a difficult rule to follow. Her pretty rear end was straining 
against her shorts as she bent to crank the starboard winch on their sailboat.  We were 
slowly overtaking them on a starboard tack, and Dave was bellowing orders as Carol 
strained to...
 
"Steve, not so close," shrieked my wife Linda, breaking my concentration and ending a 
perfectly satisfying covet.

I eased the helm and fell off a point to widen the gap between the two boats.  I could 
see Dave glaring at me.  Good, I thought.  Dave is a prick--a rich prick. He inherited 
it.  He is also married to Carol- a "second wife" who epitomizes the term "trophy 
wife."

With another couple, we were crewing our sloop "Hammerhead" on the final downwind 
course of a local race.  Neck in neck with my arch-rival Dave VanHorn, as we both 
maneuvered for position. 

Dave was at the helm and Carol manned the starboard winch as our sloops charged down 
the final leg. Yes, Carol's pretty little butt was still sticking out, so I engaged in 
another quick covet. I'm not exactly sure of the exact definition of coveting anther's 
wife, but I was surely engaging in something approximating the biblical warning. What 
the hell, I thought. I'll look the word up when I got home.

"Linda, we're not that close," I shouted to calm her.  The bastard's trying to pinch me 
off course.  He got me last month, but not this time," I shouted trying to reassure 
her.  "Hang on, I'm going to cross his wake and make my move to windward.

"Damn testosterone.  Don't cut it too close."

"I've never beaten Dave." To the crew I hollered, "Ready about!"

"Linda, this time I've got the bastard."

"Helms alee."

Tacking to port the boom came swiftly over. Linda and crew expertly winched in the jib, 
adjusted the traveler and trimmed the main. Traversing Dave's wake our anchor missed 
his stern by inches. I steered "Hammerhead" another point into the wind and headed for 
the finish line. He covered by making his own turn, but it was too late.  Almost 
immediately, "Hammerhead was between the wind and Dave's boat and took the wind out of 
his sails. Yes, took the wind out of his sails-love that old clich‚-almost as well as 
coveting.   I was close enough to see Dave's eyes narrow.  Carol on the other hand was 
wide-eyed as she watched the maneuvers.

The wind gusted, "Hammerhead" heeled further... race as good as won, I decided to 
engage in one last covet...I returned my gaze to Carol.  Not only did she have 
beautiful legs, but her nipples were protruding nicely from...

I not only heard it but felt it. The jib split with a horrible shrieking sound. 
"Hammerhead" slowed and Dave moved smoothly past me.

                    -0-

"Steve, it's not that bad."  Linda and I were finishing cleaning "Hammerhead" which was 
now moored in our slip.

"I know, I know.  If it were anyone else, I wouldn't care.  But Linda, you know he 
likes to critique me."

"Just ignore him.  Why do you always go to his boat after the race?  He just needles 
you?"

"Club tradition, you know-winner buys.  When I beat the bastard, we'll have him over 
here.  I don't want to give him any excuse not to show up next month, when I run him 
off the bay.

"Ok dummy.  Take your medicine from Dave. I'll visit with Carol.  She's such a sweetie.  
Can't imagine why she stays with him.

I felt this wasn't a good time to mention my afternoon's coveting.  I don't cheat on my 
wife, but, of course, coveting...

True to "tradition" we finished cleaning and stepped aboard Dave and Carol's boat.  
Carol was below and Dave was topside seated against the mast, drink in hand working on 
his boom vang.

"Bad luck there Stevie-boy.  I told you that jib was looking a bit worn. Head on down 
and make yourself a drink.  Carol has all the makings out."

I followed Linda down the ladder. Carol was seated against the starboard bulkhead.  
Damn she was gorgeous. Tall and trim, she shook her honey blond hair as her face 
flowered in a welcoming smile.  She exuded sex appeal. But then, she was somewhat of a 
prude.  In all the years I'd know her, I'd fostered hope that she would someday appear 
topless, like many other ladies in the sail club or, at least, in something other than 
her demure one piece suits.  No luck so far.

Carol smiled, "Here to talk to Dave?" Both she and Linda rolled their eyes. " I've 
opened a nice bottle of wine for Linda." Sheindicated a half-empty bottle in front of 
her. "You can mix yourself a strong one at the bar."

Both women turned their attention from caring for me, the defeated warrior, to more 
pressing matters-makeup. Carol is a sales person for a well-known brand of cosmetics 
(yes she has one of those cars) and Linda never missed a chance to visit and purchase 
new selections of potions, creams and paints.

I mixed dark Barbados rum with tonic and finished with a squeeze of lime. One thing 
Dave was not was cheap. I sneaked a quick covet as Carol applied a wondrous new shade 
to her lush lips with a tiny brush. Linda critiqued the application as she also tried a 
new shade.  True to form, the first shade was never right.  Both ladies wiped off the 
first layer and tried new wondrous hues.

Speaking of critiques, it was time for mine. I noticed Dave had a large metal ice chest 
centered under a hatch, so I removed my boat shoes, stepped up, and put my head and 
shoulders through the hatch.  Resting my arms and drink on the cabin deck, I was about 
three feet from Dave.

It started.

"Well hell son, you made some good moves today," Dave began his diatribe.

"You made a nice windward run, but I notice a bit of excessive luff on your main."  I 
gritted my teeth and nodded.

"Stevie-boy you got to pay more attention to the positioning of your jib 
blocks."  I began to plan a lecture for my next months' victory.

"Hell boy, that was a nice turn, but you also got to select a better crew next time.  
Now, let me tell you about the race I won last month. I skippered a boat off Martha's 
Vinyard.  That was a race..."

My mind wandered.  I contemplated pouring my drink on the deck and leaving.

A hand touched my ankle.  Linda, trying to reassure me.  Dave's voice was quite loud, 
and I was sure the women below could hear every word. Laughter filtered up from 
thecabin.

"Sounds like the ladies are having a good time below. Now those Boston boys..." Dave 
continued.

I lost track of his conversation and concentrated on the hand now traveling up my leg.

"They really do know how to sail, but Stevie-boy..."

The hand hesitated then went under my shorts.  Damn, Linda's getting a little frisky 
with Carol sitting there.  Perhaps Carol is in the head. The hand will disappear in few 
moments.

"Of course, I showed em a few things..."

A finger slipped under the band of my underwear.

"Yes, the Boston boys, they did have some nice equipment, but didn't exactly..."
 
The finger found the sensitive place behind my scrotum. 

Dave watched me intently.  "You should have seen it Stevie boy. I jumped em all at the 
start line." 

The finger massaged the backside of my balls.

"I kept an eye to weather..." 

I felt a tugging at my zipper and heard the surprisingly loud sound of it opening. 
Damn, I thought, the zipper is almost as loud as the jib splitting. To my relief, Dave 
apparently could hear nothing.

"It wasn't my boat, of course, but I knew..."

A second finger slipped into my fly and traced my hardening cock (better known as ole 
Beauregard or Beau) through my underwear. Damn I wondered, where the hell was Carol 
while Linda was playing this game? 

"I had them retension the aft stay..."

The hands unfastened my belt and slid my shorts to my ankles.  Above deck my hand shook 
and I spilled part of my drink as I wondered if I had worn my best underwear.  Dave 
snorted at my clumsiness.

A finger tugged at the waist band of my shorts. My knees began to shake. Dave intently 
stared at me but continued.

"She sprang forward when I did that and..." 

The finger pulled my shorts forward.  A second hand reached in and fingertips gently 
touched Beau.

"Shit boy, I had a good lead on them half way to the windward mark and..."

The hand closed around Beau and began a slow stroking motion.

"The Boston boys did have some good rum, so I indulged in a drink while we..."

The hands pulled my shorts to my ankles.

"Of course, I was the first to catch the wind shift and..."

A tongue touched my balls and began to lick upward. Damn Linda, I thought. This is a 
little much.  Carol must be getting quite a kick out of watching. But, what the hell, 
it was fun.  I relaxed.  It did make Dave's speech more palatable.  Linda and I would 
have some good yucks over this when we got home.  I decided to enjoy the experience.

"As we neared the mark, I knew it was a good thing I had made the port tack as..."

A second pair of hands touched my ass. Again my knees buckled, and I spilled more of 
the drink trying not to fall through the hatch.  Then lips went over Beau's head and 
the delicious sensation of a warm mouth engulfed me.  I straightened my legs as the 
mouth moved slowly down Beau shaft.  I recounted hands. One held my Beau steady as the 
mouth moved silkily up and down.  A second cupped my balls and slowly massaged.  And 
yes, I hadn't been mistaken.  A third hand was on my ass while a fourth was temporally 
unaccounted for.  Assuredly that was my wife sucking me.  But then, Carol must be 
involved somehow.  I concentrated.  Surely I could tell my wife's mouth.  A little 
nibble on the head--yes, that's her technique.

"We made the mark well ahead..."

A tongue went around the Beau's head and the fourth hand slipped up and touched 
my cheeks.

I gasped, and dropped my glass.

"Hell son, you seasick, or do we need new drinks," Dave sneered at me. "Only you could 
get sick in port."  Carol, how about some refills," he hollered.

To my relief (I think), all four hands and the mouth left me.  I heard rustling below, 
laughter in the galley and felt a cool breeze on a wet Beau as he now swung in the 
breeze.  I wondered how ridiculous I must look below deck with my shorts around my 
ankles.  But then Beau is a shameless bastard and didn't care anyway.

To solve the mystery of the mouth, I watched closely as both Linda and Carol appeared 
topside.  I decided that whoever's lipstick was out of place must be the sucker, which 
would make me the "sukee." (Not sure that's too biblical or correct English, but it 
sounded good.)

Linda moved towards me and handed me a fresh rum-drink.  "Hope you enjoy this?"  She 
smiled sweetly and pursed her lips into a kiss.  Her lipstick was perfect.

Carol handed her husband his new drink,then turned to me. "Steve, are you having a good 
time?"  Her lipstick too was perfect. I noted the delicate curve of her pouting lips 
covered with a glossy red hue.  The tip of her tongue appeared for an instant.

"Yes, quite enjoyable so far." 

"Take your time then boys.  Linda and I have a lot to do below.  Shall we 'go down' and 
finish up dear?"

"Yes Carol let's go.  I can't wait to 'go down' and uh, get to the business 'at 
hand...'"

"Honey, you said a mouthful," cooed Carol winking at me as she passed towards the 
ladder.

The double entendres weren't too subtle. I sneaked a look at Dave to see if he was 
curious.

"Screwy broads.   Guess they are down their playing with makeup again.  Now Steve, on 
the downwind course..."

Minutes later the mouth returned to a grateful Beau.  I had started to go a little 
soft, but the warmth cured that problem. Four hands and one mouth, yes, they had uh, 
'gone down' and back to the business 'at hand,' or 'at mouth.'

Damn, it was a great blowjob.  I had assumed that through years of experience, I could 
tell if the mouth belonged to my wife or Carol.  I was sure it was Linda.  Then the 
mouth left me, the hands moved and the mouth came back.  Was it the same one?  I 
studied technique.  Let's see, gentle suction, just enough tongue--yes, Linda, but then 
there was that odd little twist of the lips?  Oh hell, it was Carol.

Or was it?

"So Stevie boy, next time I suggest..."

I'd completely lost track of my lecture.  Instead my brain fully concentrated on the 
vicarious thrill of secretly debauching a detested rival's wife while standing only 
three feet in front of him. Or was I the one being debauched?

"...that you stay upwind of the start line and..."

The mouth and hands departed. Laughter followed by the sound of a cork popping sounded 
faintly from the cabin.  Again I felt silly as old Beau, obviously excited, was just 
hanging there.  Probably looking a bit forlorn, I assumed.

"... "of course Stevie, you did make some..."

Yeeeow, a mouth, cold from sipping iced wine, slipped over Beau.  Dave saw my startled 
look and raised an eyebrow. "Just got a little cramp in my leg Dave. Go on.  I'm 
learning a lot."

"...Well Stevie, you have a good boat, but need to work..."

The ice trick. That solved the mystery.  Linda knew I liked that.  I settled back to 
enjoy the experience.  Of course, it was made all the more enjoyable that Dave's wife 
was watching and touching me also.

"...Yea, Stevie boy, stick with me and we make a..."

Below decks there was a momentary pause in the action as the girls had obviously taken 
another wine break.  Soon to my relief, they returned and a warm mouth again enveloped 
Beau.  Always the good businessman, I took a second inventory of hands.  That must be 
Linda in front with one cupping my cheek and the other steadying Beau as he moved in 
and out of her mouth. Behind me Carol seemed to have one hand on my hip and the other 
pushed between my legs cupping my balls.

Yes, I had it.

But then more laughter and clinking of glasses and Beau hanging.

"...next race Stevie, here's what you need to..."

They were back. The tongue was making little swirling motions just under Beau's head.  
I was sure this time it was a different mouth-well maybe. Linda never rolled Beau's 
head like that.

Damn I was getting close.

"...we'll go over your staring techniques before..."

New sounds filtered up the hatch.

"...Stevie, if you just take notes and..."

I felt the twitch that meant that I was close.

"...we'll work on your finishing techniques later and..."

Yes, finishing.

The mouth pulled back and soft, naked breasts enveloped Beau. I pushed forward into the 
warm folds as whoever's hand continued to caress my balls.

"...Yes Stevie, you will finish better next month if..."

A first spurt, and I could feel hands holding up the breasts using them to 
massage Beau.

"...of course that wasn't too bad a finish today..."

A second spurt of exquisite pleasure jetted into the willing breasts. Behind me, 
I felt soft lips kiss my cheeks.

"...my boy, you lost it in your last maneuver when..."

I lost a third spurt.  Behind me, the hand left my balls and I felt both slide around 
my hips and replace the two hands holding the breasts.  Damn, were those Linda's hands 
holding Carol's breasts or the reverse?  Suddenly I didn't care as one last stream of 
pleasure escaped into the soft valley. Exhausted, I relaxed as a rapidly shrinking Beau 
nestled pleasurably in heaven.

"... Stevie, you'll beat me yet."

I nodded weakly.  Below, soft hands cleaned me with a cloth and pulled up my underwear 
and shorts.

"...hell boy, time for another drink."

I collapsed into the cabin and sat dazed on the icebox.  Linda and Carol were back at 
the table repairing their lipstick. Gathering my strength, I sneaked a quick covet and 
admired the full graceful curve of Carol's lips. Had they been...

"Finished honey? My wife laughed with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yea. Think we'd better go."

"Oh Steve, look."  Carol stood and walked to me pointing to a widening stain on my 
khaki shorts.  She turned to Linda. "Gosh, how could that have happened?"

"Beats me honey."

Dave's footsteps could be heard coming down the ladder.  I looked up thinking how to 
explain the stain. Of course, Dave would have some stupid comments...

"Oops," Carol screamed as she feigned a fall and dropped her wineglass into my lap.

As the cold wine hit me, I stood and smacked my head on the cabin ceiling just as Dave 
entered.

"Damn, boy, can't take you anywhere. Everyone on the wharf will think you peed in your 
pants," Dave said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

I shook Dave's hand, and Linda pecked Carol on the cheek as we made our departure.

On the wharf, I stumbled along carrying the sailing kit over the wet front of my pants.  
Ahead of me, Linda held her makeup purchases. She glanced back and laughed at my 
efforts to walk and cover myself. "Serves you right for being such a bad boy.  Let's 
stop for a cup of coffee at the sail club, so you can get a bit dryer and organized."

Inside over coffee, I began to relax.  The cramp went out of my right leg and I leaned 
back at ease. 

"Happy birthday," Linda said.

"Thanks. I'd forgotten in the uh heat of the moment."

"Hope you liked your gift."

"Gift. So this afternoon wasn't a spur of the moment thing?" To myself, damn, she had 
given me a card this morning and I expected a shirt or something when we got home. But 
a double blowjob, (at least I think so) was, well, the gift of all gifts.

"Not entirely.  We women are very observant you know."

Must be careful here, I thought.

"I've seen you watching Carol for some time."

Mmmmm- coveting uncovered.

"You silly men think things like this just happen like in those stupid stories you 
write and post on the 'net.  Last month I showed one of your stories to Carol. She and 
I had a good laugh and sort of discussed doing something like this-just in a joking 
manner.  She really gets so mad at Dave when he does his bragging, and sometimes she 
wants to get even.  When you stood on that ice chest, well, we'd both had enough wine 
that we started giggling about your story and, since it was your birthday, I started 
playing with your leg and uh..."  She shrugged.

Cautiously I ventured, "Gee honey, thanks." I stupidly leaned back and smiled.

"Feeling a bit smug are we Steve?"

I sat up, "Well uh..."

"Next month's my birthday."

Warning lights lit up. "Yes."

"You know how you hate shopping for presents?"

"Uh yea."

"After joking with Carol, I also got talking to Carl Jensen's wife Jean. Carl's a worse 
racer than you are. But, such a cute hunk he is."

Mmmm, reverse coveting?

Well, he's always last. You noticed he wasn't racing today.  Jean's afraid he'll want 
to drop out of the club.

I could see where this was going, but fatalistically moved on. "There's more?"

"You've forgotten you will be out of town next month, so I agreed to crew on their 
boat."

"And?"

"Well, Jean and I decided that the three of us will have cocktails after the race then 
award Carl some consolation prizes.  Just to get his spirits back up."

"Prizes, that's plural."

"Steve, I know this is hard for men to understand, but oral sex is ok for starters, 
but...well, you know.

I caught the waitress's eye and ordered rum and a glass of wine.  The two of us 
sat in silence until the drinks arrived.

"Steve, you don't have any objections, do you? Especially after the nice gift you 
received from..." She fell silent, but I could see that teasing look in her eyes.

"You and Carol?"

"You're not sure are you?  I guess I should feel insulted that you couldn't recognize 
me."

"Are you going to tell me?"

Now it was her turn to lean back and laugh.  To my consternation, she laughed so hard 
tears came to her eyes.  "Steve, you look so pitiful. You'll have to wait a month for 
the answer. I'll tell you on the Sunday after the race when you come back in town." 

"Linda, you used the verb 'decided.'  When did you decide upon your birthday present?"

"Just now while we were talking."

It had been a wonderful day.  Excellent coveting and, of course, my consolation prize--
well, just the thought of Linda and maybe Carol?  I looked at my wife, still smiling at 
me. She was right.  My annual problem of a birthday present for her was solved.  
Besides, in my soggy shorts, I could feel a half-drowned Beau began to stiffen.  I 
raised my rum for a toast.

"Happy birthday," I smiled. 

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