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Ken and I had followed the Navy after his OCS and two short-hitch postings for him to Pensacola, Florida. His work as a flight controller was stable enough so it looked as though we might just be here awhile. I put my Journalism degree to use and found work with a small magazine and they seemed pretty happy to have me. So we were the typical duel income, no kids (and none wanted for now at least), nice house on the water, late to middish 20s yuppy puppies you hear about. With lots of laughs and love, I guess we were about as happy as we could get. Tom and Laura had been our neighbors for about four years ever since we moved back in 99. If there was a nicer couple, I don’t know ‘em. We literally met as we drove up in our Renta-truck. Tom was mowing the lawn and Laura was “digging in the dirt” as she calls gardening, but he turned off the mower and came over with his perfect white smile and introduced himself. Laura sort of glided over on the longest pair of legs in the world and the next thing we knew they just pitched in and spent the rest of the next two days unloading our truck with us. That was that, we were friends. Tom was a software designer for a local company and Laura was a nurse at the hospital here. Over the course of the next few years, we became about as close as friends can get. Yes, that way too and yes, I do love Laura as much as Tom but Ken and Tom are men’s men only although both of us girls have been sandwiched happily.
But this story is about the boat. That boat! Holy Shit! THE BOAT! Tom’s Boat. Tom built this boat, see, for about three years in his garage. Well, what of it would fit. Said it was to honor his Viking heritage. I had to ask Laura, who looks like a Viking, what kind of boat he was building and she sort of ‘Haaarumphs’ with her arms crossed and recites in her best Tom imitation as follows: “The Dragon Boat is a 27 foot, 5 inch, deep hull, twin marine, blown v-8, catamaran, with electronics.” Then she looked at me and says, “And it costs as much as a small country.” Little did both of us know just how much we were going to enjoy the ‘electronics.’ Tom’s one fault was that he could be a bit of a techno nerd at times. Not that Ken thought this was a fault at all. Oh no, he willingly encouraged him.
“We might be able to get the canopies fabricated from the Luftanzare Barkesea in Gestwertz for a heck of a lot better deal than here in the states. Lemme see what I can do on base.” Real help.
Then, just when you’d think the thing is ready for the water, he up and spends another three whole months on some “Secret weapons development,” project he won’t tell any of us about involving computers and machining and boxes delivered with what looks like dashboards and upholstery. But finally the big day is here and he takes each of us for a ride.
I’m telling you, the “passenger” pod is pretty spartan. There is room to sort of stand with a little half-seat/cradle, and a helmet that has a radio in it. Tom puts the helmet on me and checks to make sure the radio is in place, then Laura takes one wrist and Ken takes the other and together they lower all “5’2” eyes of blue, Oh what those five feet can do,” 104 lbs soaking wet (and I want so much not to be for the next little while) into the pod. My helmet fits between the arms of this padded cradle thingy and I have to stretch tippy-toe to touch the floor while my pus is grinding against the saddle because the set-up is made for someone a bit taller than lil’-ole me. It’s made for Laura.
Side story! One night not all that long after we had met, we all got ourselves snockered and I said, “So how long are them legs, anyhow?” Laura’s one vanity is her legs. Not that she doesn’t deserve to be vain about those things. My God you just never saw such a pair of legs. Any way she uses the old, “From my ass to the ground,” line and smuggy smiles and the next thing you know we got out the tape measure. She jumps up from the table and says, “Check out that inseam.”
“Nope,” I say because I’m smashed and because I’m feeling a little wicked and well, you know, ‘cause she’s really cute and maybe tonight the way things are going I can get a little. “Nope,” I say, “A true measurement should not have the shorts in the way.”
There is this silence as Tom and Ken look at each other with this “Oh-Ho!” look, and then she leans over and plants a wet one right on my lips and unsnaps the button on her jeans shorts and peals out of ‘em. And the only thing under the shorts is blonde and there just ain’t much of that, lemme tell ya!
“Holy shit,” I whisper. “A real Blonde.” And she just smiles and turns around and bends over enough so I can see her lips are pink and tiny and I’m thinkin’ everyone can hear me get wet. I got to hold the tape against her clit. Thank you. Tom and Ken can hold it to the floor. From clit to carpet she’s 34 inches tall. Hang on, she’s only 5 foot 7 inches total! Do the math and that is an abnormal stretch of leg we got on this woman.
Oh yeah! To answer your question, we did.
Back to the main story. They closed the limo-dark canopy and I’m all, “This is NOT fun!” Then Tom is in his pod and I hear his voice on the radio saying, “Here we go, Randy!”
And the most unbelievable roar istanbul escort blasts my back as those engines come to life. Must be something in my blood. Maybe my Mama was this 50’s bad girl in a motorcycle gang because I swear I go horny all over. Dragon Boat is barely moving out of the marina and Tom’s on the radio shouting, “What’s wrong, honey? You ok?”
So do I tell him what the engine vibes through the saddlele are doing to my clit? Or that I have no choice but to grind against the thing? Oh hell, “Toooooommmmy, you got a gggooooooood boat!” I moan!
He gets it and laughs and opens her up. What a ride!!! Twenty minutes of high-speed thrill and do I mean thrill. I came, (ha, I just got that!) back all 104 pounds soaking wet.
About a couple months after the launching, I noticed a trend. Every time Tom and Laura go for a ride, Laura comes back exhausted, and I’m thinking I know what is going on. I mean they gotta be going out to the key and doin’ it the way that thing gets a girl primed, but, wow, am I, like, so wrong.
This one time right after they got back, Laura is hanging in the jacuzzi with a drink and I head over to “Sympathize.”
“So, how ya doin’? Jahavagudride?”
She sort of props open an eye and looks at me. “I don’t know whether I love that boat,” she takes a sip, “or I hate that boat.”
“Yer kidden, right?” I think this is a case of she ‘doth complain too much.’ She just wants me to be jealous of how much she’s getting. “I’d be thinking you’d be getting used to it by now.”
She sort of shakes her head and says, “There is no getting used to what he has in that thing!”
“Aw, give it a rest.” I splash her a little and laugh. “I felt the vibe, ‘Tis a powerful vibe! But with your legs, you don’t have to sit right on the saddle thingy like I had to.” I smiled a little wickedly, “Unless you want to.”
She shook her head again, but this time she looked me right in the eye. “Remember the electronics and such he had installed specially? Well, you didn’t get any of those used on you the time you went. He has the Dragon tricked up like the ‘New Orleans Specialty House of Constant Arousal.’ If he wants, he could make a dead woman cum and keep cumming!”
“Holy Shit! What’s he got in there?” I mean, now I got to KNOW!
“There’s vibes and probes and, and. . . I can’t describe it all. The computer has to be something NASA would kill for. I bet he’s solved the in-flight exercise problem!” She thought a minute. “For women anyway.”
“But, I mean, you can resist, right? Sex is 90 percent mental after all.”
“Lemme tell ya this,” she sighed and leaned back in the water. “By the time he gets things fired up, the 10 percent of your physical done over-rides the 90 percent of whatever mental you might have and the results are you are totally, 100 percent, had! Which is what I am right now. I couldn’t cum again no matter who it was.”
Couldn’t let a challenge like that just pass by. Nope, not me. I just had to see whether she had just a little somethin’, somethin’ left in her for lil’ ole me. She did. Even though she begged me so pretty please she was so had and so tired, I just had to make my Valkirie sing her cum song. She was too exhausted to fight anyway. She was so out of it, as she came for me she sort of whimpered in my arms. She has this dominatrix element to her personality and five inches and 15 pounds on me so I don’t get to take charge very often. This time I was going to have my way. After she came so pretty for me once, I stood in the jacuzzi straddling her head while I made her put her tongue to good use. Then, I got low in the water between her legs and returned the favor for her second cum. First time I made a woman cry from cumming. She was that had! So, I helped her to bed and called it a day.
But when I was by myself in my room that night I found myself thinking (and I gotta admit not without a little fear on top of my excitement) “What kind of things does he have in that boat?”
The next day, Sunday, Laura was out for revenge and, damn it, I was ripe to be had. She came over early to announce that Tom had given her the keys to the boat.
“So, you want to go for a ride?” she taunts me right in front of Ken, and I know right off what she has in mind.
“Where you got in mind to go?” I say as we head for my room to change.
“I thought we’d take a run up to the yacht club for brunch,” she says slowly.
I’m already thinking, ‘Damn! Last time I was on that thing for less than a half-hour and popped off five cums! The club is about half that far away!’ But I jump to attention and salute, “Well, lemme change. What’s the dress for the day, Ma’am?”
She says, “Bathing suit and that skirt thingy you got in Hawaii for on the grounds. The club is just the first stop. Afterward, we’ll head for the ladies’ only beach.”
Now it’s my turn to really gulp. I’m thinking all the way to my room to change, and the thoughts are like this; half hour to the club but the run from the club to the beach has to be about 40 minutes out. Add them together for the ride home. She’s really going to work me. But I am not about to back down. I decided to turn the tables a little. I finished undressing halkalı escort me and slink over to her. I put my arms around her neck and kissed her for all I was worth. Her hands and fingers were all over me; pinching nipples that were already hard for her and way up inside my very wet pussy. As I spread wide and arched for her I gasped, “Is that all you’ll do to me?”
She waited until I came and then I got what I thought was really on her mind.
About two years ago a dominatrix personality of hers had surfaced, and four months ago she had proven to me I was a sub, well, her sub. That knowledge had the duel effect of scaring me and exciting me. That one session months ago had scared me enough so I vowed I’d do whatever she wanted and excited me so much that I still was happy to give myself to her! I just had to be careful, I told myself. Anyway, she had “that” look on her face now and I knew what “that” look meant. She made me kneel to ‘kiss’ her pus with my wrists crossed behind my back. When she finished she lifted my chin so I had to look her in the eyes and said, “That’s just the start. Orders for the day are as follow: You are to resist cumming with all your might all day long.”
Holy Shit! The one thing I knew I could not do was just what she was ordering. Then, she reaches into her beach bag and pulled out her whip. Four feet long braided rawhide and I remembered only too well how it felt as it curled around my breasts and butt. “After all, you said sex is 90 percent mental.” She purred as she slowly dragged the braid across my quickly tightening nipples. I took in a ragged breath while the rough rawhide bumped its way over my stiff little nubs. She flipped it over my head and wrapped the whip around my bottom before pulling me in for the kiss I tremblingly gave. She released me and smiled at the effect her actions had on me.
“Now,” she said as she picked out my tiniest coral thong, “get your suit on and let’s go.”
“Well, if she could say and do anything that would make me hornier . . .” I thought as I walked to the boat.
We got to the boat about 9ish and I was quickly helmeted and lowered into my pod, but the interior was now way different. Now, I slid face down into a cradle that was a thickly padded rest about three feet long designed to support my hips and shoulders which narrowed to ride comfortably between my breasts. The whole thing was slanted at a steep angle, a wide collar-like contraption with thick sides circled my waist. At first, my feet no longer touched the floor no matter how hard I pointed my toes, but she told me, “Spread wide and you’ll find two foot-rests.” Spread wide was right! I spread tippy-toe and darn near all the way to the edge of the cockpit (And what a lovely word that is, isn’t it?) before my feet found the rests. Not near enough to take all my weight off my pus where I was firmly held against a padded vertical pylon ‘seat’ that kept me from sliding any farther down. It wrapped around my entire pubic area and wedged itself deep between my butt cheeks. The whole cradle was upholstered with some shiny plastic material that gave only slightly. I put my arms into two rests on either side that had deep grooves. “Stay perfectly still, now.” Laura knelt by her open pod and I heard her flip a switch. The collar-like restraint around my waist slowly closed around me until I found myself held firmly in place. She flipped another switch and the arm rests closed around my forearms pinning me helpless. “Good, sweetie.” She purred as she rubbed my breasts. I remembered what she said about resisting cumming, so I fought the sensations streaming from my now hard nipples for all I was worth, but I couldn’t help moaning. The situation was just too much of a turn-on. “Oh sugar, there’s just not going to be much left of you if you start off like this,” she said as with a final tweak of my nipple she bid me a good ride and closed my pod.
I was alone. The situation, me helpless and my imagination on overdrive, made my breath echo harshly and turned-on inside the pod. Water lapping against the hull sounded like my pussy lips when I’m about as wet as I am right now. Holy Shit! What have I gotten myself into? I tried to adjust my pussy against the pylon and discovered a bump seemed to have grown in the ‘seat’ and was now positioned right against my swollen little pink clit. As I tried to adjust myself against it, I discovered rubbing myself against it seemed to be what it was there for and my breathing became harsher and deeper. My head went back and . . .
“Ready, sweetie? ” Laura’s voice made me jump and I squeeked a little. I heard her laugh. “Did you find one of the stimulators?” she asked.
One? Holy Shit!
“It’s about fifteen minutes at 70 knots to the Yacht club. Remember, I order you to try your hardest not to cum!”
Then the engines came to life and that bump began to vibrate and again, although this time I fought it with everything I had, I didn’t make it out of the marina.
“So much for the power of 90 percent mental.” Laura’s laughter rang in my ears.
“Sorry, Ma’am, I am trying!” I decided I was had, so I might as well enjoy it as she opened the throttles to the engines. mecidiyeköy escort “Oh, Oh, Oh my. Oh Holy Shit!”
I have never been a quiet cummer and the sounds of my orgasms filled our helmets. “I’m really going to enjoy today!” Laura shouted.
Then the dashboard sprang into pale blue life and Laura’s voice was in my ears. “The top read out is ‘Stim1’ for that bump you are enjoying. As I turn it on, you’ll notice two things, the read out shows ‘Vibe’ and ‘Rotate’ and you should be feeling the bump doing exactly that.”
Did I ever feel exactly that! Holy Shit! The bump had a life all its own. Not only did the damn thing begin a vibration, but it vibrated in a harmonic with the boat’s engines. Sort of a ‘vroom, vrooom, vrooooom,’ repeating rhythm impossible to resist. The read-out also said it was pushing out about ½ inch and rotating about 10 times per minute around a 1 inch radius. Sounded right from my angle. I don’t know how many orgasms I had during that fifteen minutes. I do know it was the most wonderful boat ride I’ve ever experienced.
I felt the cradle and arm restraints loosen as we pulled into the club marina, but even though it was off, that bump was still in control of me and I was shuddering cums for several minutes after I found myself free. She tied up to the dock and undid my canopy. I bet the smell of me was something else, but right then I didn’t care. I was still coming (Ha! Did it again!) down from what I had been through as she hoisted me up and let me sit for a moment.
“No wonder you are exhausted when you get home, Laura. That thing would get to anyone.”
She smiled, tied my pareau around my hips, and helped me to my feet. “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.” She whispered in my ear as we walked to the tables by the pool. “Nothing.”
“Holy Shit, girl,” I stuttered. “You win!”
“Sugar, you forget yourself, don’t you?” She arched one brow at me and I knew. I knew that I had knelt in The Position for her and now I had to do whatever she wanted.
So with a big gulp of the Bloody Mary that I was pretty sure was all I was getting for brunch I said, “Not me. I’m ready for anything!”
“Good.” She purred.
Following my liquid brunch and polite chit chat with a couple members we knew, it was time for round two. Believe it or not, I was ready and eager and showed it, but Laura had a surprise for me.
“Got to make a pit stop first. Time to take off your thong because we can’t have anything in the way for the next set-up,” she said softly as we crossed the plush carpet of the lounge on our way to the rest rooms.
I stopped right there. “Hey, babe,” I said a little shocked. “This pareau is a little transparent in case you hadn’t noticed and my bouncin’ beautiful butt not to mention my pert and perfect pleasing pus are gonna be on display if I do that!”
She whirled on me and pinned me against the trophy case. My heart hammered because although we were alone I knew someone could come by any second. “That is a direct disobedience and I shall deal with it severely! You now have one dozen lashes coming to you. Get that thong off, or would you care to go for two dozen?”
I was as terrified as I was turned on! Before I knew what I was doing I reached under my pareau and peeled down the thong right there in the lounge. She took it from me, and with my heart in my throat I was led from the club to the boat right past several members who I know got a view. She sat me on the edge of my pod and lowered me into its depth. When my pareau rode up on the edge of the cradle she removed it and my bare little self was pressed firmly against the pylon seat. She fastened the helmet on my head and pulled off my top. “Those really are perfect.” she sighed as she cupped each of them while her thumb and first finger tweaked the nipples stiff.
She flipped the switches trapping me in place and started the first stimulator, “Just to give you a little something to do right now while I’m busy.” Then, with the canopy wide open and me, humping, writhing and totally visible to anyone on the dock, then she begins to get the boat ready to go. Do you have any idea how long it takes to gas up a monster like that? Check the oil and water and whatever the hell else she can find to do first? About forever, that’s how long! I’m telling you, never, never have I been so completely helpless and had in such a public way in my life. The funny thing is, I’m thinking I like it.
As Dragon Boat roared out of the breakwater and healed over for the run toward the beaches, I was just enjoying my second orgasm when Laura’s voice sounded into my helmet. “Time for you to learn another one of the electronic features aboard, Randy. Check the read-outs.” I immediately looked at the dash through my cum-hazed vision. ‘Stim 2’ was now lit. Next to it showed ‘Rotate ½ inch’ ‘Probe – Adv. 2 in. Ret. 0 in.’ and ‘lube 5 ml.’ I felt a circling thrusting as something wet was trying to enter me. Didn’t take long either as I sure didn’t need that lube. The ‘Probe’ read-out went to ‘Adv. 3 in. Ret. 0 in’ then ‘Adv. 4 in. Ret. 3 in Cycle 20/min.’ and I was getting fucked for sure to the rhythm of 3 inches in and out every three seconds. Another read-out showed ‘Width’ then ‘1 inch’ was quickly replaced by ‘2 inches’ and I knew I had something substantial inside me. My Ken is about 2 ½ inches thick so the present settings were fine with me. I came noisily and Laura laughed and asked if I could take having the setting upped.
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