Chapter 11

DAY 10

Tony scowled at me. For good reason. I had said I wouldn’t have sex with Fred, her younger sister. But I had failed to resist the temptation. Tony was assuming it was just digital, just fingers, well and maybe tongues. She assumed, rightly, that it wasn’t full (illegal) vaginal sex with Fred. It was actually somewhere in between. I hadn’t taken her virginity, I had (illegally) taken her anal virginity. Fred had offered, but that was no excuse, if an excuse was needed. I was older and responsible. I didn’t try and justify myself to Tony.

That was the right approach, as the time went on, she came round. After all, as far as Tony was aware I had just frigged her sister, not fucked her deeply and hard in the arse. I had to stop thinking about it; picturing her tight little crinkly entrance in my mind gave me a hardon.

We sailed up to the Bay of Pigs. Obviously not ‘that’ Bay of Pigs. This was a bay that was famous for wild pigs that came down to the water and would even wade across to the small islands off shore. To an unwary sailor, it would seem that you could sail in at one end of the bay and out at the other; which you could on a good day. But the north end of the bay became very shallow, a sand spit connected the land to the island and on a high pressure day the spit might actually be above the water – though this was very rare. At other times there might be a narrow channel, maybe six feet wide, that would be 6 feet or more deep; the rest would be just below the water ready to catch out the unwary. It made for a pretty place to rendezvous with the other boats, the ones that hadn’t gone back to the marina. Craig and Mike pootled round in the inflatable, welcoming us and inviting us all to another barbecue. That sounded perfect.

And it was. Just like the other barbeque, without the storm to follow, as Craig got tired of hearing people say. I told him that Tony had really enjoyed the storm, how she had said it was the high spot of the holiday – I didn’t mention her ‘better than sex’ exclamation. He was highly amused that two supposedly experienced sailing crews had called it a day after that and our scratch crew of amateur enthusiasts and Captain Haddock (he called him that too and then realised his mistake and changed to Handcook) were both up for the excitement.

The sun went down, the moon came out low on the horizon and we all, once again, marvelled at the number of stars.

And then it was back to our boat, the same old three way rowing escapade. We were 100 yards from the shore! I had to row 1000 yards to get everybody to the barbeque and back! Why I had to row was beyond me, but then I didn’t really mind.

On the boat, there was the usual pallaver of using the bathroom. I pissed over the side, and then heard an echoing splash on the other side of the boat. “Heh, anything you can do, so can I” said Fred. She stood from crouching over the side, deliberately letting me see her naked slit. She was such a tease! She walked over to me after pulling up her pants and leaving her shorts off. That wasn’t the fair at all, she was wearing the same pink ones as last night. “No of course I’m not! They’ll need a good wash. These were part of a set of three. Listen, you and Mummy tonight. She’s had a difficult time with Daddy. Make her happy.” This was not the way it was meant to be. It was meant to be the mother who told you to be kind to her daughter, not the daughter who told you to give her mother as much sex as she could handle – because that’s what she meant.

I went below. “I heard Fred’s little pep talk with you” said Cheryl “She’s very thoughtful isn’t she? And right too. I want you to give ME eight orgasms too.” Bloody hell, I thought, no pressure then; I wonder if I could borrow Joanne’s toothbrush.

“Better get started then.” I noticed the two daughters smirking at us “You two should put ear plugs in tonight.”

In the den of iniquities (it kept changing its name) I pulled off Cheryl’s night wear. Honestly I don’t know why we bothered putting them on, they came off so fast. Then I put my hand between her legs and simply stroked her until she came. Just like that. She wasn’t quiet about it (well, I had warned them). She thought I’d use my tongue, but I turned her over and pushed my hand between her legs again. My fingers got wet from her female fluids and I pushed finger and thumb into her and used the others to cup her mons Venus; stroking and rubbing; rubbing and stroking. She got a significant after echo of her first orgasm, she didn’t shout; she did moan loudly “Oh, Chris, that’s fantastic!” I liked that. They wouldn’t know what I was doing, but they would know I was doing it well.

Then I simply turned her over again and buried my face into her vulva. She gave a little giggle and said (loud enough to be heard) “Again? You are a Greek God, you are unstoppable” With comments like that I was! She had a very small third climax; and a flood of juices flowing out onto the towel I had remembered just in time. All our towels smelt of female vaginal lubricants, urine, and semen. I think it probably made use more horny.

Then I crawled up her body, licking the sweat from her as I went. Licking her salty, sweaty breasts, kissing her stubbly armpits (she hadn’t shaved since she arrived) and finally arriving at her mouth. I could feel my penis pressing against her pubic hair, so could she. She said “Take me from behind. I want you as deep as you can go. Or do you want me to suck you?” No, I thought. I’ll have you from behind, that’s fine.