Chapter 7

What could have happened next was that the other boats could have seen people being dragged out and thrown in the water naked. However, the advice was that the water wasn’t clean enough. Instead a quick retreat happened. “Don’t forget, everybody gets washed today. EVERYBODY! I’ll check.”

“What are you going to do Rupert? Sniff our arm pits?” asked Abigail from the pit that that the forward cabin was becoming. There was no need. He went in first and washed in cold water, then left with a towel around his waist and found some clothes. He watched from the well of the boat and as each girl went in, he walked down, cool as as cucumber and lifted the canvas flap and looked in.

They had done that to him, so he considered that fair. Anyway, they had nothing to hide really, after the last three nights.

Amelie dived in first, thinking to get washed quickly, he looked over at her bottom encased already in clean pants. “No, no. take them off. You haven’t washed. I can tell. Take them off or I will.” She had nowhere to run.

“But the water is freezing. My lala will die of shock.”

“Lala?” she just did pulled them down. “And the backside. Remember I know what it tastes of. It needs a wash.” She went pink all over at that. Apparently the whole body blushes, he had never realised that.

“What do you mean? Oh? You ... you.” Mary was adding up again and getting the right answer. She wondered if they’d done more than that but thought not. Not on the first night, surely.

“Well done. BATHROOM’S FREE.” He went and put the kettle on for breakfast.

Abigail went in, she said “You aren’t to look.” Naturally he did, she was sitting on the toilet. He could see what she was doing. “Go AWAY!”

“Haha. Okay. Don’t forget to wash.”

“FUCK OFF!”

That brought the other two, Rupert shepherded them away. “She’s having a crap. There are limits on what a girl should show.”

“You bastard! You didn’t need to tell them.” she shouted.

“We know what you’re doing!” the two girls chanted, fully conscious that nothing they did now would be private. After the pump had been used a few times. Rupert lifted the canvas flap to see her wiping her bottom with the flannel. She looked at him and stuck out her tongue. He was tempted to either to steal her towel or offer to dry her but the kettle began to sing so he went and made tea.

Mary got in and out with no viewing. “There’s always tomorrow.” Rupe offered. “Where shall we go today?”

“You’re the skipper. We are under your command for everything.” Amelie said. The other two nodded and repeated “Everything.”

He looked at the three. He had been lucky. Each one had had a very enjoyable night, including reaching that Nirvana: an orgasm in synchronisation with the man inside them. They thought he was God’s Gift. They meant it, the next three days were whatever he chose; the next three nights too. He could live with that, he thought. But what did he want?

They would sail to Barton Broad. It would be a long haul and included a bridge. They would sail all the way. “Oh, and today is a BFD.”

“?”

“Bra Free Day.”

“But we’ll flop around. And our nipples will show through.”

“I’m counting on it.”

For an hour there were little pointy nips showing through where ever he looked. Then the wind got up and the temperature dropped and they all got covered with jumpers. Still there was later to look forward to.

The sailing was more challenging. When they lowered the mast and went through the bridge, they put a reef in before raising the sails again. The wind made the winding river with trees and long bends difficult to handle. One minute there would be no wind, shielded by the trees and then suddenly a gust would hit them and they would sheer away as the jib or the main tried to turn the boat. Difficult but a fun challenge as long as nothing went wrong. Rupert and Abigail did more of the sailing, the two sisters finding the heeling over, the sudden gusts, the narrowness in places, all more worrying than fun. Then they reached the broad, and the boat heeled until one side was touching the water. Rupert was exhilarated and scared at the same time. He knew that a normal boat could easily lean over in the wind like this, but how far could a shallow draft boat like this go? It probably had a lot of weight instead of a deep keel, but how much? Still, they sailed up and down. Whizzing along, in triangles of running, reaching and close-hauled. “This is the second best fun to be had on a boat!” Rupert shouted.

“What’s the first? Oh, oh yes, I see.” Naturally bonking a girl still took the prize for a sixteen year old. Bonking three put it well in front. He was thinking about tonight. Yes, tonight they would need the heating on. “Going about,” Instead of gybing he swung round 450 degrees so he went about and the sail slid over without crashing the mast.

“That’s what shivering the timbers means – it does! I was reading about it, the boom rips across and twists the mast so much that it splits along the grain. It shivers. It does! It’s true, I’m not making it up.” He gave up. The boat set off again at a rate of knots. He loved this. “Weeeeeeeee!” he shouted. The girls looked at him and laughed. “Right. See that spot there? At the end of the staithe. We’re going in there.” They looked at him, how was he planning to do it? “At the end of the staithe, facing this way, we will be head to wind.”

“But ... we can’t sail up to it facing this way. Shouldn’t we stop out here and take down the sails?”

“Yes, we should.” They breathed sighs of relief. “But we aren’t going to. Amelie, you are on the topping lift. When I shout, pull on it as hard as you can, loop it under the cleat and hold it. DON’T do it until I say so. You two.” He looked at Abigail and Mary. “When I tell you, go to the front with Amelie. Then wait until I say and lower the peak and throat, one each.”

“What about the mooring?” Abigail said.

“Glad you asked. Go up now and lead the front mooring rope back down the starboard side. Yes now. It has to be within reach.” He kept them on the same tack as Abigail went up on the port side, then he went about so she could come back down the starboard side. “No, round the side stays, it has to hold us at the bow. Yes, that’s it.” He was thinking ‘This is crazy, am I just showing off? No, not JUST showing off. If it works it will be brilliant. If it fails, well I’ll know for next time.’

Okay. You three, to the front. And hold on. Okay? Round we go.” The three girls actually believed in him; they just obeyed. Anybody on the moored boats a few yards beyond the staithe would be wondering what he was doing, but by that time it would either be working or a disaster. He deliberately didn’t start the engine. He knew that was completely bloody crazy, but this was now a test of skill and of nerve. He was heading across on a broad reach. He had contemplated coming in running and doing a 180 ‘handbrake turn’, he actually thought the boat would do it, but if it span on its centre it would end up several feet from the staithe. So a broad reach aiming just behind the landing point (with two large cruisers in his sights). A head did appear, he ignored it. He had to concentrate. At twenty yards he shouted again to hold on, at ten yards, he turned and the boat described a tight arc and came to a rapid stop facing the wind. “TOPPING LIFT.” As he shouted, he jumped ashore and looped the rope with three constrictions onto the post. “Right Peak and Throat. Together, don’t jam them.” Back on board, he grabbed the scissors and shouted. “Let off the Topping Lift. Yes, all the way.” He grabbed the boom and dropped it into place and collected up the flapping sail. “Good. Keep the peak and throat coming. Amelie, can you let down the jib?” He had forgotten that, luckily she remembered which rope to let off and pulled down the jib. She nearly lost the loose end, but grabbed the halyard just in time. The gaff clattered into the scissors and the two girls grabbed sail ties and tied the sail as Amelie tidied up the jib into a bundle too. Rupert was already pulling the boat round the corner to the proper mooring places at the head of the staithe. He tied off the bow and stern and smiled.

“Lucky break. Thought we were a goner there.” said a voice behind.

“Hmm? Oh, no. All under control.”

“Yes, neat bit of sailing, I must say.” The speaker was from the cabin cruiser. It had been his head that Rupert had seen. He spoke like he knew what he was talking about. “But risky though?”

“Yes, a bit. Still, that’s what makes life interesting. Sorry if I worried you. I wouldn’t want to do it without a good crew. As you see, they are magnificent.”

“They certainly are. How’s their sailing?” The man walked away. Leaving Rupert looking. He must have been seventy, but he could admire three pretty teenage girls with no bras. Even under their jumpers, their boobs bounced the clothing up and down most noticeably.

“What did he want? To complain?”

“No, to compliment. Both the sailing, and the crew.” They finished tidying up; raising the roof; this time remembering to bring out the boat cover and put it on. If there was nowhere to eat, they’d want to cook when they got back.

They were lucky, and four quiet teenagers managed to order healthy pub meals (lasagne all round) and drinks with it. No-one queried their ages. Three were old enough to have drinks with their meal anyway. No-one questioned the second bottle of wine either. They had definitely had more alcohol than normal. At least, the three girls had. If they had been counting, they would have realised that their joint boyfriend had paced himself very strictly. Given that he was on a promise, he had decided that one (or six) nights of not drinking too much was worth it for what he was getting.

“Am I really in charge? Of everything?”

“Yes, yes, yes. You have three days to control the whole thing. Then it’s back to real life.” Mary assured him. The others nodded. His smile got bigger.

“Okay, well I get to sleep with Abigail tonight. Let’s not pretend otherwise. You two,” he looked at the sisters. “I want you to lie in your own beds and masturbate. Not with each other. Clear? That will come in the next two nights with Abi. Yes, Abi, you heard right. But you two are sisters, so you do yourselves, not each other. No pretence now. I’ll be asking for details in the morning. Oh ... and no panties.” He said panties because it sounded somehow sexier.

“What do you mean?”

“You can wear pyjamas or a nightdress if you want, but no knickers.”

“But, we’ll -” Mary was about to say ‘leak’, especially if they had to do as he said.

“Yeah I know. Especially if you get horny several times. Which I’m expecting. You both have to come at least twice before you get up. If you only do it once tonight, then you do it again tomorrow while we all listen – or watch. Haha. Yes. I know. But you did say I’m in charge; and you’ve kind of given me a teenage dream.”

“Probably a male of any age, actually.” Abi said. The three of them had, at some point which Rupert never comprehended, decided to go for it for a week. They had all read teenage fiction – usually if sex was involved there was angst and guilt or lack of satisfaction; and then the girl realised that it wasn’t working and it was all a learning experience and very serious and informative and feminist. They had also all read some ‘adult’ fiction. In some of the books aimed at women, the heroine finds herself in the clutches of some male bad-boy who takes her roughly over the back of a horse, on the office desk, tied to the bedroom four poster. It was horrendously anti-feminist because the female very often found that she loved being forced to satisfy the man’s insatiable desire. All three girls had found this provided interesting fantasies for private thoughts. On the boat for a week, the older two had thought of the possibilities, they had assumed that Amelie was a child still, but now realised that she was at the same age as they were last year – and they had definitely been interested in good quality sex last year. It was just that it hadn’t been available. So all three were willing to suspend feminist principles, believing (and having had it proved) that this boy was into equal opportunity where sexual satisfaction was concerned.

He kissed them both good night and the two, Rupert and Abigail, watched as each girl went into the ‘bathroom’. They hung up the towel again and Rupert and finally Abi went too. When she came back he had already arranged the bed and got in. He watched as she undressed to her pants “No, same applies. No need for pants. I’ll only be pulling them off you straight away.” He spoke normally, there was no need to whisper. There was the gentle noise of hands rubbing across fabric as two girls played with themselves in their sleeping bags.