The Three Signs - Book 1 - Cathy
Chapter 9: Watching the Yacht Race

Copyright© 2014 by William Turney Morris

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 9: Watching the Yacht Race - Ahh, Cathy Parsons. There is always something special about someone's first love; and if it is the first love for both people, then there's that joy of discovery, learning about love and sex, and the heartbreak that comes with the mistakes you will both make.

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Water Sports   Slow  

Improbable – But True

Boxing Day, 1973

I woke up early, feeling slightly disoriented until I realised where I was – in Cathy’s old bedroom, at the Parsons’s place, where she had slept until she took over Dianne’s room. It wasn’t yet six o’clock, and I could hear the sounds of the surf through the open window. Elsewhere in the house, all was quiet. I suspected Mr and Mrs Parsons would be sleeping in, and I didn’t know what time David returned, but I was well and truly asleep when he did.

I was lying there, wondering whether to get up or not, when there was a soft rap at the door.

“Are you awake?” Cathy asked me.

She opened the door quietly, and tiptoed in, standing next to my bed. She put a finger to her lips, and slid into bed with me.

“Just for a minute,” she said. “Everyone else is still asleep; my father is snoring his head off.”

She pulled her pyjama top up, exposing her breasts, and pressed her body against mine.

“Don’t you wish we could have spent the whole night like this?” she asked.

“We wouldn’t have got much sleep then,” I replied.

Being in bed together, with Cathy pressing her breasts against my chest was turning me on; and my prick managed to find its way out of my pyjama shorts, and I could feel it pressing against Cathy’s stomach.

“Oh, what is down here?” she said, reaching down to stroke my prick. “It seems someone is completely awake now.”

After giving my prick a gentle squeeze, she slid out of the bed, and kissed the tip of my prick.

“Now I will have a shower and start to get ready,” she said. “As much as I want to stay in here.”

She quietly slipped out of the bedroom, and a short time later, I heard the shower start. I could imagine Cathy in the shower, all wet and soapy, and I wished I were there with her. However, not much point dwelling on that, it would be far too risky here. I got out of bed, and went to my bag. I hadn’t unpacked it properly last night, so put my clothes in the closet, and made the bed. I kept the book Cathy had given me to read – “The Little Red Schoolbook” in the bottom of my bag, and put that at the back of the closet. I would see if I could read it later tonight.

By now, Cathy had finished in the bathroom. She knocked quietly on my door, and stuck her head in.

“The bathroom is free for you,” she said. “Oh, I like the bare chest,” she added.

I quickly moved over to the door, and pushed my pyjama shorts down briefly.

“And what about that?” I asked her.

“Even better,” she said, and she looked up and down the hall before pushing her own pants down. “I think these two would go well together.” She then pulled her pants up, and ducked into her bedroom.

I grabbed my toilet bag, and the towel that had been left out for me, and went to the bathroom. I checked my face in the mirror; I guess I should shave this morning, particularly since we would be with other people – no doubt some high powered business types from Mr Earle’s work. I had a quick shave; then turned on the shower. Just as I was about to step in it, the bathroom door opened. I reached for my towel to cover myself, and stopped when I saw it was Cathy.

“Quiet,” she said. “I just have to have a pee, I didn’t think you would mind.” She pushed her pyjama pants down, and sat on the toilet. “I guess I forgot to go before I had my shower. Do you want to see me pee?”

“Sure,” I replied. “I have to go myself, actually.”

She stood up, straddling the toilet bowl, and placed her hands on either side of her pussy, and looked down.

“I have to make sure my aim is good,” she said. “I had better not pee all over the seat.”

She began to pee, and her aim was very good. Straight into the centre of the bowl, her pee bubbling into the water in the bottom, and making a loud splashing sound.

“Can you see it coming out of me?” she asked. “I can’t really see it properly this way.”

“I sure can,” I said. “Now next time, I should get a small hand mirror, so you can see it for yourself.”

“That would be cool,” Cathy said. “You have it easy, when you pee, you can see it clearly.”

She had finished peeing, and wiped herself with some toilet paper.

“My turn now,” I said. “Do you want to hold it?”

“Of course,” she said, taking my partially erect prick in a hand.

Cathy aimed it at the centre of the bowl, and I started to pee. She then squeezed gently on my shaft, constricting the flow, and then release it, watching it spurt strongly into the water.

“That’s so cool,” she said. “I love playing with it like that. Although it is more fun outside when we can spray it around in lots of places.”

When I had finished peeing, I put my hand on Cathy’s and shook the last few drops off.

“Neat,” she said. “Beats having to wipe it. Now do you want toast, orange juice, or something else for breakfast?” she asked me.

“Toast and OJ will be fine,” I replied. “Plus some cereal if there is any.”

“Yeah, corn flakes for sure,” she said. “I will get that ready for you,” she added as she slipped out the door.

I now got into the shower, and washed my hair as well. Once I was clean, I turned off the shower, and dried myself; then wrapping my towel around me, I went back to the bedroom, and picked out the clothes I would wear. A pair of shorts, a reasonable polo shirt, and my sandshoes. I would look presentable enough that way. A few minutes later, I was out in the kitchen, where Cathy had squeezed some oranges, and made toast for us.

I poured a bowl of corn flakes, and sat up at the breakfast counter next to Cathy.

“This is just like we are living together,” she said. “Having breakfast together, me making toast for you. Almost as if we were, well, you know.”

I knew what she was thinking, ‘almost as if we were married’, but she didn’t want to say that.

“It is a great way to start the day,” I said.

“Well, there is thing that would be even better way to start the day together,” she added softly. “Maybe a slightly different breakfast for us?”

I smiled at her, then poked the tip of my tongue out between my lips, and waggled it up and down.

“Oh, don’t do that,” she said to me. “You are giving me ideas, and I am already a little turned on. You will get my pussy all wet!”

“You started it,” I retorted. “Talking about ways to start the day together.”

“Well, I can’t help it if I think that way,” she said. “Did you know, when I got in bed, it was to hard to think about getting to sleep, knowing you were so close to me. I got up at one stage, and was about to sneak into your room, but then I heard a noise; it must have been Davy coming home.”

“I wonder how his evening went?” I asked rhetorically. “And whether he gave Gina that ‘special present’? What do you reckon?”

“I am sure they did it,” Cathy said. “It was after midnight when he got home – just after midnight, but still pretty late. He was still sound asleep when I came out here.”

“Well, I am sure we will find out just how it all went soon enough,” I replied. “If they see each other again today, then either they didn’t actually have sex, or they did and it all went well.”

“I bet they did” Cathy said. “And I also bet Gina will be a bit sore there today, too.”

“You think they did?” I replied. “Now, are you worried that when we do it, it will hurt the first time?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “There won’t be a problem with me not being wet enough, that’s for sure!”

“And we like to take our time with things like that, too,” I said.

“I wonder where they did it?” Cathy asked herself. “And how did they arrange to get somewhere alone where they wouldn’t be discovered?”

“Thinking of making plans for us?” I asked her, half-jokingly.

“Well, no, not really,” she replied. “Well, maybe, but when we do it, I mean, make love for our first time, I would like it to be something special, somewhere really nice and romantic, where we could spend lots of time, and then curl up together afterwards. Not some quickie behind the garage, or in the back seat of someone’s car.”

“Yeah, the back seat thing seems pretty sleazy,” I said.

“I mean, it would be lovely if we could spend a night together,” Cathy continued. “I mean, somewhere romantic, like a cottage overlooking the ocean, or a huge bed in a hotel room overlooking the city. Or even a night together in my bedroom, or your bedroom,” she added.

“All of those sound lovely,” I said. “Do you really think it will happen?”

“Of course it will,” she said. “I just don’t know when. One thing I am certain of though, is that I want to be on the pill before we decide to make love. I don’t want you to have to wear one of those awful condom things, I want you to be able to feel all the sensations properly.”

“I guess so,” I said. I had never thought of that, either me wearing a condom, or Cathy being on the pill. Probably just as well she thought of stuff like that.

“I should see if I can find how to get on it – not just yet, but maybe later next year,” she said. “Once you are over sixteen, you don’t need your parents’ permission, and a doctor isn’t allowed to tell them either. But there is the Family Planning Clinic, down at Brookvale, where I could go. I guess the only problem would be if Mum found them, and asked me why I was on the pill.”

“Yeah, it is a bit risky, sneaking around behind our parents’ backs,” I said. “They are pretty trusting with us, and I guess as long as we don’t do anything silly, they will continue to trust us. But if they were to find out you were suddenly on the pill, or discover a packet of condoms in my room, then they would start to suspect things.”

“You’re right about that,” Cathy said. “Why does it all have to be so difficult? I mean, we could pick a time when we know it is perfectly safe; when I won’t get pregnant, I suppose.”

“That will probably be fine the first time – but then what happens after that?” I said. “Do we have wait until it is the safe time in your cycle? And how reliable is that, anyway?”

“I guess you are right,” she said. “When the time is right, we will work something out. Now let’s clean up the breakfast stuff.”

We washed up our breakfast dishes, and put everything away. The others would be here in about thirty minutes; plenty of time to finish getting ready. We sat out in the living room, talking about nothing much in particular, when we saw the Earle’s big Ford pull up outside. Cathy ran up the hall to say goodbye to her parents, and we walked out the front.

“Dad was still fast asleep,” Cathy said. “And Mum was pretty much half asleep, too. Maybe we could have spent a little more time in your bed,” she added softly.

Lori and Janelle were already in the back of the car, but we had to work out a way for all four of us to fit in. Lori got out, and told me to sit in the middle, and for Cathy to sit on my lap. Once the two of us were seated, Lori got back in.

“Everyone right back there?” Mr Earle asked us.

“Yes, thanks,” Cathy said. “Although Will probably has the worst of it!”

Actually, I thought it was pretty good. Cathy was sitting on my lap, and with Lori on one side, and Janelle on the other, I was surrounded by the girls. Cathy was facing towards Lori, but could lean back when she wanted to talk to Janelle. I had one arm around Cathy’s waist, but the other had to go around Lori’s shoulders. I wriggled around slightly, getting comfortable, and Lori reached up and gave my hand a squeeze.

I sat back, as the three girls chatted about what they got for Christmas, and other things, and we made our way towards the City.

“The cruiser will be collecting us at Mosman wharf,” Mr Earle said, “and then we will take that over to the CYC at Rushcutter’s Bay.”

“When does the actual race start?” I asked him.

“One o’clock,” he replied. “But there will be lots of activity at the club; people getting their food and stuff on board, the last minute preparations, all of the excitement just before it starts.”

“So we can walk around and see all of the boats?” I asked. “How many boats are in the race?”

“There are about ninety, I think,” he answered. “Now you had better be careful, Will, or you will find yourself shanghaied as crew on one of the boats.”

“But I have never been sailing before,” I replied. “Can someone just walk along the docks, and get on one of the boats?”

“Sure,” he said. “There are always a few boats that are short a crew member or two. But a Sydney to Hobart is probably not your best introduction to yacht racing. It’s a pretty tough race, and if you are not use to it, you will spend the whole trip throwing up.”

“Oh Dad, don’t be gross,” Lori said. “You will turn him off ever wanting to go sailing that way.”

“Well, I don’t want to do that,” he said. “I want to get him out with us racing on ‘Hetaria’ on Saturdays. Would you be interested, Will? We need a fit young guy, our current bowman is leaving in a few weeks.”

“Well, Saturdays will be a problem,” I replied. “Our group has rehearsals every Saturday afternoon, and I will be playing at the Mirage on Saturday evenings.”

“Oh, that’s a pity, you would be good there, I am sure,” he said. “Lori, maybe you should try to get him to go with you to Avalon on Sundays, I know a few of the guys there would like an extra crew member.”

“Well, once school starts back, I won’t want to commit to too much,” I said. “Since most of Saturdays will be taken up with music, I will have to find some time to study. But I will think about it, I guess it is a lot of fun.”

“Lori, when does yacht racing start back at ASC? Is it after the Australia Day weekend?” he asked her.

“I think so,” she said. “Although there are one or two races during January, the two island race, and the Crews’ Race I think. I can check the program tonight, but both of those are on when we are away up the coast.”

“Well, when you get back, I can see how things go for time,” I said. “It would be interesting, and being so close to some good sailing areas, I should take advantage of it. What do you think, Cathy?”

“Well, that has never interested me, I guess,” she replied. “It all seems like too much hard work, when you can get there much faster with a motor.”

“Cathy, you are missing the whole point of sailing,” Mr Earle said. “It’s all about using the wind and water to your advantage, and the journey is part of the experience.”

“Maybe,” she replied. “I think I will stick to lying out in the sun on the deck of a motor boat, what do you think, Janelle?”

“Me too,” Janelle replied. “Provided there are people to bring cool drinks and food when I need them.”

“I’m with you girls on that,” Mrs Earle said. “Give me a lazy, relaxing time on the water any day.”

I shifted my position slightly to get more comfortable, and Cathy leant forward to talk to Lori. I dropped my left hand from around Cathy’s waist, and let it rest on my leg. Janelle looked at me, and smiled, then took hold of my hand, and rested it on her leg.

“Does it feel smooth,” she whispered in my ear.

I didn’t answer her, but I must have looked surprised. Janelle, still holding my hand, moved it inside her thighs, stroking my fingers against her skin.

“You can feel even more later, if you want,” she whispered again before returning my hand to its original position.

Cathy and Lori hadn’t noticed what had transpired between Janelle and I; they were discussing something between themselves, and Mr and Mrs Earle couldn’t have seen what Janelle did, as the back of the front seat hid it from view. Somehow Janelle had positioned herself so that her breast was pressing against my shoulder, and she started to move sightly, just enough so I could sense her movement.

“It would feel much nicer if that was your hand on it,” Janelle whispered. “Or better still, your lips and tongue.”

I couldn’t turn my head close enough to Janelle so that I could whisper to her without anyone else hearing, so I just tried to smile and ignore her comments, and actions. Cathy had finished her chat with Lori, and now wanted to shift around so she and Janelle could talk. At least it meant that Janelle was no longer pressing her breast into my shoulder. After some shuffling around, Cathy was now facing Janelle, and the two of them started to talk softly. I was twisted around slightly, facing Lori, with my arm still over her shoulder. She leant forward, and pulled my arm lower, around her waist.

“Is that more comfortable for you?” she asked me. Lori had turned slightly towards me, and was now resting her hands on my knee.

“I think so,” I replied. “I guess they really didn’t design these seats to hold four people like this.”

“No, I guess not,” she said. “At least it won’t be far, and then we will have the run of the whole boat for the day. Much bigger than our little cabin cruiser – there are several cabins below, plus the open bridge at the top, above the main saloon.”

“Sounds pretty impressive,” I said. “Does your father’s company own it?”

“No, but they often charter it for business and social functions, things like that,” Lori explained. “It’s owned by the brother of one of the other executives, I think, something like that, so the company gets it for a good price. Last year we were on it too, but then Dad was on one of the boats racing to Hobart.”

“How come you aren’t going again this time, Mr Earle?” I asked him.

“Well, I was lined up to go, the same boat as last year, but a few weeks ago the mast broke,” he replied. “No one was hurt, fortunately, but we wouldn’t have been able to get a new one made and fitted in time, at least not so we would feel confident about taking it in the Hobart race. It’s a very unforgiving race, on the crew as well as boats, and it just wasn’t worth risking it.”

“That’s a shame,” I said. “Will you go next year?”

“All going well, I will,” he said. “This would have been my third; they say, once you have completed one Sydney to Hobart race, you are hooked for life.”

“What about the Admiral’s Cup races,” Mrs Earle asked him. “When you did those, back before we moved here, they were hard work.”

“True, they were good, hard races,” he said. “But even the long Fastnet race doesn’t compare to the Hobart race. Not to mention the celebrations at the end in Hobart!”

“I knew there was a reason why he was so keen to go,” she said. “The party down on the docks in Hobart – not the actual sailing.”

Mr Earle laughed with his wife at that comment.

“Now, you know Will, that since he isn’t racing in it this year, he will be like a bear with a sore head about it,” she continued. “He will probably be hanging around the CYCA race control room all day tomorrow and Friday, listening to the radio reports, and wishing he was there. At least I will be able to pack all of our stuff for camp without him getting in the way, though.”

Now just how many clothes do you need to take to a nudist colony, I thought to myself, which would make packing such a task?

“Had I known before that he wouldn’t be in the race, we would have made arrangements to head up to the camp just after Christmas, and had an extra week there,” she said. “But we will still have four weeks up there, which isn’t too bad.”

“You will end up with a fantastic tan,” I whispered to Lori. “Just don’t get burnt!”

She smiled, and turned her mouth to my ear. “Well, I really need someone to make sure I have sunscreen on everywhere,” she replied. “A pity you aren’t coming up.”

She rubbed her hand along the side of my leg, and slid her fingers inside the leg of my shorts. Reaching up almost to my prick, she quickly stroked my upper thigh, and removed her hand.

“Maybe some other time, Lori,” I said to her. I wondered if she caught the double meaning.

While the three girls chatted to each other, I sat back, enjoying having Cathy on my lap, and an arm around Lori’s waist. It didn’t take all that long to reach the Mosman wharf, where we could see the boat waiting for us.

It was larger than I had thought, with a large interior saloon, and an open deck at the stern. Above the saloon was another open area, just behind the covered bridge. I could see a number of portholes along the side, leading to the bow; obviously for the cabins Lori had mentioned. Several other people were already on board, and the four of us climbed up to the top deck, sitting out in the sun to look out on the harbour.

A few minutes later, the crew untied the mooring lines, and we headed across the harbour to Rushcutters Bay. The day was going to be a great one for sailing, I thought; sunny, enough wind without it being too strong, probably just what they wanted to sail over 600 miles. Once we arrived at the CYCA, the scene on the docks looked like pure chaos. There were almost 100 sailing boats of all sizes tied up, and people milling around everywhere. Our cruiser was tied up at the end of one of the finger wharves, and we headed down to the main saloon.

“We will be here, and in the bar, until near midday,” Mr Earle told us. “Look around, but try not to get in the way of people when they are putting stuff on their boats. Help yourselves to the food and drink here, too,” he went on. “But not the alcohol, at least not too much. Your father wouldn’t be impressed if I returned you and Will home drunk, Cathy.”

The four of us started to walk around the marina, and I was amazed by the number of boats, the size of some of them – both how large some were, and how small others were. I couldn’t imagine sailing 600 miles or more in the open sea in a boat that was maybe less than thirty feet long. Lori and Janelle had gone off to talk to someone, and Cathy and I were walking along one of the docks, when a man on one boat called out to me.

“Looking for a ride, mate?” he asked.

“Me?” I replied. “What do mean, are you looking for some more crew?”

“We sure are,” he said. “Bloody Jacko fell over last night, pissed as a newt, and broke his arm, so we are one short. Interested?”

“Well, I have never been sailing before, and I don’t have any gear at all,” I replied. “But thanks for the offer, anyway.”

“Well, no worries, we will probably be able to find someone,” he said.

““I hope you do,” I said. “Best of luck in the race, anyway.

I checked the name of the boat on the stern, “Improbable”. I made a mental note to follow up on its progress in the race.

After we had wandered up and down the marina docks, we met up with Lori and Janelle. Cathy told them how I had almost wound up in the race, and the others laughed.

“Dad almost brought his sailing bag with him,” Lori said. “I am sure he would have got a crew position easily. But Mum told him that he couldn’t go, not with our arrangements for the camp.”

By now, the crowd on the docks was getting even larger, as people started to say goodbye to family and friends, and people rushed back and forward with sail bags, boxes of food, and other supplies. We decided to head back to our boat, and grab some food and drink.

No one else was on the boat; I assumed the others were still walking around the docks, or in the yacht club bar. Lori found a bottle of champagne, and we poured ourselves glasses of champagne and orange juice – I had tried champagne before, and didn’t really like the taste of it, so my drink was mainly orange juice, with a splash of champagne. We grabbed some of the food – cold chicken, salad, prawns, and the like – and went back up to the top deck.

“No chance of lying topless here,” Janelle said. “Not with all the people around, anyway.”

“I thought you would be getting plenty of that up on the camp from next week, Janelle,” Cathy said.

“Sure, but Will won’t be there, so I thought he would want good look, so he won’t forget what I look like,” she said, looking directly at me.

I acted like I was ignoring her, and said, “I can remember what you look like, don’t worry.”

Janelle stood up, pulling her tee shirt off, and leaned over me. She quickly look around to make sure no one other than us four were looking, and then pulled her bikini top up, exposing her breasts.

“There you are, a quick refresher for you,” she said, before covering her breasts once more.

“Janelle!” Lori exclaimed. “Don’t do that here, not where anyone can see. You’ll get us in trouble.”

“Oh, don’t be such a fuss-pot, Lori,” Janelle replied. “No one can see me here, anyway.”

Janelle lay back down on a seat; I suspected she was disappointed she couldn’t lie out topless in front of me. The rest of us watched the activity of the boats getting ready, and as twelve o’clock approached; several of them cast off, and motored out to the main harbour. Soon, only a few were left at the docks, no doubt saying their last minute farewells.

At twelve, everyone else was back on board, and our boat slowly made our way out to near the starting line. We helped ourselves to some more food, and some more champagne and orange, and returned to the top deck. We could see the race boats hoisting their sails, and several of them were making what looked like practice runs through the starting line and up the harbour.

“They will be seeing which end of the line the breeze favours,” Lori said, and double checking reference marks so they don’t cross the line early.”

“Uh huh,” I replied. She seemed to know what she was talking about.

Every so often, Lori would point out one boat or another, telling us its name, and whether it had a chance of winning.

“That one is pretty interesting,” she said, pointing out one of the larger boats. “Helsal, it is a concrete boat, my father said it is nicknamed ‘the floating footpath’.”

“Concrete?” I said. “You wonder how it floats, let alone can race like those other boats.”

“Well, it floats like all other boats,” Lori said. The hull displaces far more water than the actual weight of the boat.”

As we were getting closer to the start, the others had joined us on the upper deck. We had a great view of everything; close enough to look along the start line, but without getting in the way of the actual race boats.

“If you watch the flags on the committee boat,” Mr Earle told me, pointing to a boat anchored at the far end of the start line, “you can see when they give the ten and five minute warnings. They fire a gun, but that takes a few seconds for the sound to reach here. They will drop the main flag right on one o’clock.”

The boats were now jockeying for position behind the line, and it looked like some fantastic water dance as boats went every which way, surely they would hit each other I thought. Just as Mr Earle said, I saw the flags change on the committee boat just before the sound of the shotgun reached us.

“Ten minutes,” someone said.

The boats now appeared to be setting up in three distinct groups. Most of the larger boats were at the committee boat end – the eastern end, which was favoured by the wind, according to Lori. The largest group, mainly the smaller boats, were around the middle of the line, dipping and darting every way, and trying to keep away from the larger boats. A smaller group, maybe ten or fifteen, were at our end of the line, probably trying to keep out of trouble.

I had a rough idea of what they would try to do; cross the line right on (or just after) the starting gun, going at full speed, with clear air around them, without hitting any other boats. Of course, there were ninety or so other boats each trying to do the same thing. I still couldn’t see how no one hit anyone, and we could clearly hear the sounds of people on the boats yelling out to others to keep clear, or give way, or something like that.

Right at one pm, the gun went off, and the boats surged across the line. The larger boats to the east forged ahead, and we kept pace with the fleet leaders as they tacked up the harbour. It was difficult to see who was leading, as boats took several different courses; each skipper with his own idea of the best and fastest way to get out of the harbour. Several of the larger boats were very close as they turned out of the heads, probably no more than a hundred metres between the leaders.

With the wind now behind them, the leading boats hoisted their multicoloured spinnakers, and we had to increase our speed a little to keep pace. Already the fleet was well spread out, with many of them still to leave the Heads. We stuck with the leaders until they were opposite Coogee beach, or thereabouts, when it was decided to turn back, and go back to the yacht club for more drinks, and no doubt much discussion over who would win the race.

Although I really didn’t understand much about the tactical side, it was exciting to watch the boats, and to see the crew work as they tacked the sails, or hoisted the spinnakers. It looked like pretty physical work to me, and I wasn’t sure I would want three or four days of that.

Once back at the yacht club, the adults went ashore to the club bar. The four of us remained on the boat, and found some more food and drink in the saloon. Even the crew had gone ashore, so we had the boat to ourselves.

“Well, what did you all think of that,” Lori asked us once we were sitting around a table. “Pretty exciting, wasn’t it?”

 
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