Boy Interrupted

Nothing but featureless blue water. A perfect plane of glittering cobalt, stretching in all directions to touch the sky, where small, cottony clouds trundled playfully overhead.

The opulence of the luxury yacht never ceased to amaze me. The expansive flybridge crowned the eighty-five foot catamaran, where a giant louvered canopy shaded both the auxiliary helm and an al fresco dining space and bar. Aft, a pair of sun lounges flanked the hot tub, while forward, two additional lounges flanked a stairwell.

The stairwell was the single point of access to the flybridge, leading down to the forward portion of the salon, near the primary helm station. A sliding hatch over the stairwell could be closed to create the only private outdoor space on the boat.

I lay naked on one of the forward lounges, stroking my cock as I thought of Tabitha and Tracy.

After my brief discussion with Sam and Julia in the salon, I had surrendered to fatigue and returned to my stateroom for a few more hours of sleep. When I woke, just before noon, the ship stood silent. Logging in to the security app, I found all six girls in their beds. Sam, Julia, Ronky, and Bianca slept. Tracy and Tabitha, however, lay awake, naked from the waist down, masturbating in front of each other.

For the next several minutes, I watched the two youngest girls masturbate themselves to another orgasm. By the time I closed the app, my swollen cock had leaked precum through my shorts, leaving behind a dark, wet stain near the crotch.

Like my cock, my testicles were quite large, which brought their own blessings and curses. Due to hyperspermia, my seminal vesicles produced excessive amounts of semen, with my typical ejaculation measuring nearly a tablespoon, and extremely high levels of testosterone caused me to be semi-erect most of the time. The net result was an overproduction of precum that drooled from my urethra whenever I became the slightest bit aroused.

I leaned back in my chair and groaned. I hadn’t been able to get off the night before, but I needed it now. Badly. Towel in hand, I ascended to the flybridge and slid the hatch closed.

Now my hand pumped rapidly over my vascular shaft. The muscles in my toned body, glistening from tanning lotion in the bright, noontime sun, tensed as I edged myself closer to my orgasm. I closed my eyes and pulled back my feet.

I imagined the two young girls sharing my cock. Both of their soft mouths on it at the same time. I imagined moving between them. Fucking them together. Stretching their tight, young pussies. Hearing them moan and scream beneath me. I imagined them reaching back to hold open their asses, begging me to fuck them. Bending them over, hands on their hips, thrusting into them.

My climax approached, roiling up from the base of my cock. My balls tingled. I imagined sweet, young Tabitha riding my cock while Tracy sat on my face. I could almost taste her delicate, tender pussy.

The hatch over the stairwell rattled. Then I heard a muffled voice from below.

“It’s locked.”

“Try twisting that handle thingy,” came a second voice.

My pulse pounded in my ears, and my cheeks flushed with heat. Shit! I threw the towel over my waist just as the hatch slid open. Ronky stood on the steps below in her tiny bikini, a beach towel tucked under her arm. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes from the glaring sun and blinked at me. Bianca stood immediately behind her.

“Oh, hello there,” Ronky said with a smile on her face.

“Who’s up there?” Bianca asked, peeking over her shoulder. When she saw my face, her expression soured. “Oh, fucking great.”

Ronky continued up the stairs before I managed to find my tongue. “What are you doing? You’re not supposed to be up here.”

She paused to take me in. The towel barely covered me, and my erection tented the thick terrycloth. “What are you up to?” she asked with a knowing smirk.

“Rule three, Veronica.”

“Rule...,” she began, then tsked. “Rule three? Man, are you kidding?”

“No, I’m not kidding.”

“Come on, BD. We just want to chill out in the hot tub for a little bit.”

I could barely hear Bianca say, “Did he just say, ‘rule three?’ What a prick. Fuck this, I’m outta here.”

“You should go with her,” I said.

Ronky looked over her shoulder as Bianca retreated from the stairs. Then she turned back and admired my glistening skin, and the unmistakable outline of my erection. Her eyebrows lifted and she met my gaze, cracking a smile.

“Were you, um,...?” She pantomimed jacking off.

“Veronica.”

She laughed. “You are so good looking, you know that.” She gestured to my poorly hidden bulge. “Would you like some help with that?”

“Veronica, please. The flybridge is off limits. You know that.”

Her lips turned down into a disappointed frown. Then she rolled her eyes and exhaled an exasperated sigh. “Fine, whatever. Have fun by yourself.” She turned reluctantly to descend back into the ship.

“Would you please close the ... hatch?”

She’d already gone. I lay back and sighed. Damn. I’d been so close. Just a few more seconds. I lifted the towel. My erection had abated, but only partially. I peered down through the open hatch, then rolled off the lounge to slide it closed.

The damned thing couldn’t be locked. Not from the outside, anyway. I’d hoped that Rule Three would prevent the girls from coming up without my permission, but I’d clearly underestimated their disregard for authority. They were rulebreakers by nature, so of course my silly rules wouldn’t dissuade them from doing whatever they wanted.

I lay back down to pick up where I’d left off, but found myself distracted by Ronky’s interruption. That was the second time she’d happened upon me naked. Once, okay. But twice in twelve hours? Improbable. Had she been purposefully seeking me out?

In my stateroom the other night, she’d been clear about her intentions. The moment her coverup hit the deck and she stepped inside, staring at my erection with that hungry look in her eyes, I knew what she wanted. I was exactly her type. Early middle age, tall, fit, with a large cock. She would have fucked me right then and there, if I’d let her.

So why didn’t I?

I wasn’t sure. It’s the very reason I’d brought them aboard, after all. Well, one of the reasons, anyway. I had other goals in mind as well, but those were secondary. Seven high libido individuals, alone on a luxury yacht in the middle of the Caribbean. Getting them here had been the hard part. The rest would simply be nature taking its course. It was inevitable.