Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Sailing (c)2008 Copywrite Yurislit, all rights reserved.

   All my own work please dont plagiarize.  If this work of fiction is on a
pay site please feel free to let me know.

   I am adding this to my collection mainly because I enjoy Kim and Shelle
a lot, I have put them into this situation because I think both women would
enjoy it.  I do not condone sex with underage girls but then I dont condemn
it either.  Each person has the right to choose their sexual partner and
preference.  The age of concent VARIES, from Country to Country, in some
cases from State to State, but why is it possible for a girl of 14 to
conceive if our creator didnt want girls bear children at a young age, you
be the judge

   Feel free to contact me or just to give me feedback or constructive
critism my email is yurislit@yahoo.ca



   Helen Fuller had married Peter Dixon right out of high school, three
months later their daughter Stacie was born.  With both sets of parents
helping, the young couple lived frugally and somehow managed to make ends
meet.  They both worked and brought up their daughter as best they knew
how. Although in the beginning times were hard.  A few promotions later,
their precarious beginnings seemed almost like a fairy tale.

   They enjoyed trying but it just seemed Helen was unable to conceive any
more.  It took four more years before Helen managed to fall pregnant again.
The baby was stillborn, the obstetrician warned that it would be suicidal
for Helen to try for more children.

   Stacie was in the 6th grade when Peter, after doing the dishes one
Sunday morning, became the victim of a driver returning home from an all
night drinking binge.  That the driver had been punished almost seemed
irrelevant.

   At 32, Helen Dixon a widow with a 14 year old daughter did not think of
herself as a matrimonial catch.  Helen was exceptionally pretty, but could
never see it herself.  She was tall,5'9" with large green eyes and shoulder
length natural red hair unblemished complexion except for freckles.  With
delicate well-defined shoulders she was trim, long legged, with narrow
hips, with small high breasts, and gentle and giving by nature that belied
her fiery red hair.  Her daughter helped cook meals; and had even
progressed to sewing on the occasional button.  She had almost been kept
back a grade, but worked hard and tried not to be an inconvenience with
trivialities, instead of asking if she could go home with her friend Nancy
stay over with Tina, or whoever, it was what she wanted for dinner or
needed taken out of the freezer.  Her extra curricular activities were
limited to playing center in her schools girl's hockey team in winter and
scrum half for their rugby team in summer.  If she wasn't at the rink or
sports field she was in a swimming pool.  Nor did she chase boys, or fall
in love every five minutes.

   Her close friends, except for an extroverted gay boy, were all female.
She went on the occasional sleepover at her best friend Nancy, a pretty
brunette the same age and also a member of the Hockey and Rugby teams.  The
girls spent most of their time in Stacie's room studying or listening to
loud music.  When Helen complained about the noise they'd close the door
and the noise would abate.  Like all parents Helen doubted her levelheaded
daughter had a sex-life or was into drugs.  She had spoken and lectured at
length about teenage pregnancy and the health risks that drugs induced. 
She convinced her, "that she had no interest in boys whatsoever, and drugs
were for mugs."

   As the gut wrenching pain at the loss of Stacie's dad began to ease, so
the invitations to dinner parties, barbeque's and various other guises,
married women use to snare a mate for their unmarried friends, began to
increase.  A pack of hungry looking single thirty to Forty-year-old men
always seemed to be included with any dinner date made by any of her
friends.  She and Stacie often had a little chuckle about it.

   It took time for Helen to become acclimatized to widowhood.  Her husband
had had life insurance and their life was not all work and no play after
his death.  The income from the insurance policy took care of most of their
needs and paid off the mortgage, Helen took a morning only job at the local
vet's as a receptionist.  As with any healthy young woman, she had
appetites, she went out the occasional date, but never more than one with
the same man, she eventually stayed out of town overnight with Stacie
sleeping over at Nancy's when she needed female companionship however
nothing serious ever seemed to develop.  She seemed happier going out in a
crowd with the girls from the vet's office.

   Over time her wardrobe became less dowdy and her style evolved, her
clothes became less innocent, and more eye catching.  Baggy sweatpants and
figure disguising ensembles made way for stylish and flattering apparel. 
Her appearance always remained well groomed and demure even in racier
clothes she now wore, except for a few skirts and tops, she had bought but
never worn in public.  With the exception of a few sheer and exotic pieces,
Helen developed a disdain for underwear and only when modesty demanded,
preferred not to wear any.

   Impressionable at fourteen, Stacie naturally began adopting her mother's
stylishness.  Puberty rapidly ripened her breasts, and filled out her
frame, but the exercise she got from contact sports like Ice Hockey and
Rugby widened her shoulders and toned her muscles and although she was only
5'4" she appeared buff and bigger than she really was.  Shorter hemlines
worked well for her too and her smooth muscular long legs were elegantly
displayed in either shorts or short mid-thigh or sometimes shorter skirts,
and when she discovered her mother went without underwear, her's remained
mostly unused in the top drawers of her dresser.

   Helen watched her daughter grow more and more beautiful each day.  She
was sitting on the couch watching television when Stacie came in from and
flopped down almost on top of her.  "Hey mom, whats ya watching?" She
asked.

   Stacie was wearing a short skirt with a midriff top.  Her lean legs were
folded under her and Helen found herself looking at the smooth, lithe skin
of her daughters thighs.  Realizing it, she blushed and tried to place her
focus back on the increasingly uninteresting rerun of Law & Order on the
television, somehow tonight Angie Harmon wasn't doing it for her.

   Stacie leaned back against the arm of the couch, once again Helen found
herself looking at her daughter.  She followed the lovely skin of her legs
up to the hem of her skirt.  Helen found her self staring, unable to look
away.

   Helen's eyes traveled up Stacie's body, her belly and belly button.  Up
to the clearly visible twin mounds of her breasts.  She suddenly became
aware that Stacie was looking back at her and smiling.  Helen blushed
profusely and averted her eyes, deeply ashamed of herself.

   "Do you think my boobs will stay small like yours Mom?" She asked, she
had indeed seen her mother looking.

   "I...  I'm not sure." Helen stammered.  "You must be hungry."

   Helen wanted an escape and getting into the kitchen or anywhere would do
nicely.  Stacie shook her head "Nah I had a snack at Nancy's.  Definitely
don't want dinner." Helen got up and went in to the kitchen just the same.

   In the kitchen Helen poured herself a glass of wine and leaned against
the freezer, sipping it.  She was feeling something she had not experienced
in a while.  Arousal..  Something about Stacie was getting to her and she
could not fathom why.  Helen drained her glass and went back to the living
room.

   "How come you don't have a boyfriend?" Stacie asked."Dad's gone, you
don't date."

   Helen was taken aback by the suddenness of the question.  "I just don't
want one." She finally said.  "Why?" Stacie pushed.  She wiggled around for
several moments trying to get comfortable, Helen noticing that like
herself, Stacie was not wearing underwear.

   "I just don't."She finally stated.

   "Nancy thinks you're gay." She said.

   "What?" Helen asked incredulously, blushing, her mouth hanging open. 
"When did she say that?"Helen asked.

   "Today when we were talking at the pool." She pursed her lips for a
moment.  "Are you?"

   "I just don't have time for a boyfriend and I have you to consider." She
finally said as her pulse slowed.  She hadn't told anyone that even before
Peter's untimely death she found herself attracted, to females but believed
her friendships with co-workers was just that, friendships.

   They watched television for most of the rest of the night quietly.  The
touchy subject seemed closed.  Around 11 Stacie got up and kissed her
mother good night."Mom, it would be ok with me if you are gay." She said as
she went upstairs.

   Helen sat stunned watching but not seeing the television.  Finally she
too went up to her room, pulling her clothes off as she went.  The image of
Stacie's legs would not leave her head, nor her parting comment.  As usual
alone in bed she found herself fantasizing about a woman she knew. 
Absently she slid her hand down below her belly.  She dipped her fingers
into the soft warm waiting folds and began massaging her clit, moaning
softly as she did, every night.

   Any form of guilt was secondary to the excitement she was feeling. 
Helen imagined what it would be like to kiss a woman's soft lips.  She
dreamed of running her hands over a female's body, touching her, tasting
her, feeling her.  She bit her lip as her excitement began to build.  The
walls in the house were thin and she did not want Stacie to hear her. 
Helen turned on her belly and buried her face in her pillow and let out a
loud groan as the waves of heat and pleasure ran through her body.  Her
legs wide, her fingers slippery with her own juices release came
blissfully. Exhausted by her climax, Helen turned languidly onto her back
and drifted to the edge of sleep.

   Helen opened her eyes and turned with a start.  Stacie was crawling
across the bed, towards her.  "Whaaaa?" Helen mumbled, oblivious to the
fact she was sprawled naked, legs wide, her scent still heavy in the air.

   "I couldn't sleep, I watched you, it was sexy." Stacie whispered as she
pushed herself up on to her elbows, studying her mother's 34 B-cup breasts.
She pushed herself up until she was sitting.  "Can I touch them?" Stacie
asked.

   "No you cant!" Helen closed her legs and tried to cover herself, but
Stacie wasn't going to be denied, she easily pried her mother's hands away.
She smiled and closed her hands over her mother's breasts, rubbing them,
playing with them, Helen was too shocked to stop her.  Stacie was smiling.
"I know you like this, because it feels good when I rub mine." Stacie said
quietly.  "Do you like it?" Helen was too shocked to do anything, nodded
her head each time Stacie's thumb brushed over her nipples, she could feel
it all the way down to her clit.

   Oh...  Stacie we musnt....Oh god.....no you musnt...." Helen gasped as
she felt Stacie's finger reach her folds and brush over her dank and matted
pubic hair.  She was so close to cumming again it would hardly take
anything to send her over the edge again.

   "Can I kiss your pussy Mom?" Stacie's voice was soft.  Stacie slid
herself down until she was laying between her mom's legs.  The child looked
down at her mother's sex for a moment before looking back up at her, glassy
eyed.  "Can I?" She asked again.

   Helen nodded.

   Stacie's head dipped, her lips closed over her her mother's cunt,
sending waves of pleasure through her body.  Helen relented gripping her
daughter by the hair, "Push your tongue in me, oh yesss.....just there. 
Move your tongue.  Suck!" she ordered, all thoughts and denials gone. 
Almost timidly Stacie leaned in, her tongue out, and pushing against her
mother's clit.  Helen's sharp inhalation let her know that she was doing it
right.

   "Put your fingers inside."Helen begged and writhed.......finally she
began to spasm, gushing juice and half choking her daughter.  Her back
arched and her fingers twined in Stacie's red hair, she clenched her fists
and tried to muffle a scream.  Her heart beating in time with the spasms
between her legs She experienced the most amazing orgasm and the most
sensuous sexual experience of her life.

   A year or so later found Stacie dressed in satiny neon lime shorts and a
new white tourist t-shirt with the Islands Logo across her still expanding
chest.  Her red hair was brushed back by a pair of fake designer sunglasses
and was blowing in the slight breeze.  She made a cute picture standing
alone in the shade of the marina building.

   A large sailboat with two masts made its way towards a concrete jetty;
not far from where she was standing.  The engine was cut and gently kissed
and the rubber bumpers of the concrete jetty.  A blond woman dressed in
denim shorts and a light blue tank top stepped ashore and tied the boat up
to the shore bollards and rubbing a smudge on the gleaming paintwork of her
boat and lightly patting the rail next to the helm before walking up the
jetty towards Stacie.  As she drew closer Stacie saw she was tall, long
blond hair that hung half way down her back, she was deeply tanned with
wide shoulders .  Wrap-around Raybans hid her eyes.  The boat was like the
one she remembered in the advert her mom had shown her, and was probably
the one she had been waiting for.

   Kim pushed the twin throttle stalks, from dead-slow ahead into full
reverse, as the bow of the large white sailboat neared the jetty at an
oblique angle, the powerful diesel engines rumbled beneath her feet, the
entire boat shuddered, almost nonchalantly she spun she wheel.  Using what
is known as transverse-thrust, she neatly came alongside the jetty and
stopped perfectly alongside without scraping the brilliant paintwork, Kim
pushed the throttles to idle as Shelle nimbly sprung ashore and tied, first
the stern and finally the bow to the metal rings embedded in the concrete.
Kim cut the engines, leaving only the muted hum of the generator.  Kim
carefully hung four long thick sausage shaped rubber bumpers alongside
their boat, before stepping behind Shelle and lightly patted her scantily
clad ass.

   In the few months she had spent in the sun, Shelle's normally creamy
white skin was a healthy glowing light brown.  A thoughtful Kim diligently
rubbed coconut oil and sunscreen over every inch of Shelle's body every
morning before allowing her to venture into the harsh Caribbean sun.  These
sessions had quickly developed into a passionate sensual lubricated mating,
the memory forever triggered by the smell of aromatic coconut oil.

   "Cute arse!  You stay here babe.  I'll go see where our charter party
is." She said walking up to the Marina office, her long and thick blond
hair swaying in rhythm with her hips.

   Stacie cut her off.  "Are you looking for us, Dixon's?" She asked.

   Kim grinned at the girl.  "Uh huh, that's right.  Just you and your mom,
right?" She asked.

   Stacie nodded and pointed towards Helen holding two rapidly melting ice
creams.  "She went to get some ice cream.  That's her there." She said.

   Helen was wearing sunglasses against the glare; a short pink colored
tennis skirt enhanced her long sinuous legs.  She wore an unbuttoned
sleeved white linen blouse loosely over her exquisite shoulders protecting
her sensitive skin from the harsh sun but tied at the midriff, a Lycra pink
halter bikini top that matched the skirt was beneath the blouse and
displayed her creamy freckled belly but failed to disguise the outlines of
her darkened aureoles and reposed nipples through the material.  She
grinned and held up her melting ice cream.  "Hi, pleased to meet you."

   "I'm Kim; I'll be your skipper for the next two weeks." Kim answered in
introduction, and then pointed down the jetty at the bikini-clad Shelle,
"that's Shelle, the skipper's mate.  Shall we get on board?  We can sort
out the paperwork in the air conditioning before your ice creams melt."

   The saloon was two feet lower and just forward of the chartroom which is
a narrow cabin the entire width of the boat, about two feet lower than the
main deck, where the boat can be conned in heavy weather with an emergency
steering system and engine controls, the chartroom also houses all the sea
charts, the radios and radar, as well as the navigation aids like
binoculars, a sextant, sight reduction tables, GPS, LORAN, Decca navigator
and depth sounder.

   The boat had been bought on auction after it had been confiscated for
running narcotics to Miami.  With the help of the US Coast Guard and DEA,
an Islands strike craft had chased and captured the craft and drug runners.
Originally the boat had commissioned by the Russian KGB as a boat to spy on
NATO naval bases in the Mediterranean, it was 65 foot long with an 18-foot
beam, weighing forty tons and was stoutly built from seasoned Russian oak
with the rakish lines of a pleasure cruiser.  At the end of the Cold war
the boat and ones similar had been sold off and passed from owner to owner
for various nefarious purposes because of its outwardly luxurious exterior
and size.  A camouflage that disguised her speed; while not exactly
matching a Cigarette Boat, or Formula One racer, she could move along with
twin turbo charged V8 marine diesels at speeds over 35 Knots.  Under sail
she could go close to the wind with amazing speed and agility, her bulk
giving stability.  In addition the chartroom had state of the art radio
equipment.  There were one or two devices among the radio equipment that
neither Kim as skipper or Shelle as the Navigator and Radio Operator could
figure out what they were, or how to use.

   The original Spartan interior had been designed for naval espionage. 
Agents slept and lived in rows of dormitory like open-ended bunks within
the hull that offered as much privacy as a jail cell.  The Valkyrie, had
been gutted and rebuilt to exacting luxurious standards.

   A saloon had been constructed just forward of the chartroom, with big
windows and had plush seating for a dozen people.  Also included was a
wet-bar, now stocked with various wines, beers, coolers, spirits and
various cases of pop.  As soon as the charter agreement had been completed
and signed, Kim allocated the sleeping arrangements.  "There are three
luxury cabins forward of the saloon." She said.  "The one in the bow has a
king sized bed, shower and toilet facilities that one is yours Helen.  On
the starboard side there are two cabins with double beds; take your pick
Stacie.  The cabin aft of the chartroom behind us is Shelle's and mine."
She said pointing to a doorway in the chartroom before continuing "She said
after filing the agreement.

   Helen and Stacie took their suitcases and moved to the luxuriously
appointed forward cabins complete with a domed skylight, while Stacie chose
the next to Helen's the one closest to the saloon.  Kim pointed out the
galley and storage lockers as she walked them to their respective cabins.

   While she thought her two guests were unpacking, Kim maneuvered the
large boat away from the jetty and through the marina and out into open
sea. Helen lay down on the king sized bed as soon as the large twin diesels
rumpled into life and called to Stacie.  They began to kiss.  Helen's hands
quickly pulled off her daughter's blouse.  Her mouth slid along under her
daughter's chin and she continued kissing along her neck, licking her
sensitive ears, his mouth kissed a path across her chest to her nipples. 
She pulled the puckering nubbin into her mouth and sucked.  Helen's one
hand tugging at the band of Stacie's shorts, the other inside her top
caressing her breasts Stacie whimpered, her hand began to knead her mothers
nipple, soon Stacie moaned throatily.  Hastily Helen rolled off her and
pulled off her clothes and tugging at the girl's shorts pulling them down
over her ankles.  She opened her daughter's legs, her vagina exposed and
inviting.

   Stacie widened her knees, and guided her mother to her hungry pussy. 
Helen's knees spread Stacie's thighs even wider as she pushed her fingers
into the wet, warm waiting pussy, her first thrusts were deep and almost
brutal, Stacie whined ecstatically, this was not going to be soft and
gentle, her need for her mother now was almost primal in its passion.  Her
nipples ached she squished her own breasts, perspiration flowed and acted
as lubricant, her breasts were almost as slippery as her well filled cunt,
she felt the twitches beginning to build in strength and regularity along
her inner thighs as her mother's fingers filled her.  She hooked her ankles
over so that each thrust forced Helen's fingers deeper and deeper inside
her as she arched her back, the hand inside her jerking forward and
retreating.  Stacie responded, pushing back with equal force in time with
the deep satisfying thrusts.  Helen's wrist stretched her; her labia
spread, exposing her clit as nature intended.

   Helen sensed subtle irregularity in Stacie's breathing, her eyes were
closed, and each breath had become a soft grunt.  The instant she quivered,
Helen closed her hand into a fist.  Stacie arched and groaned her cunt
contracted she squealed and began to spasm, the electrical tickle which had
begun as jerky little convulsions along her inner highs shuddered out of
control and came with a practiced intensity.

   "Fuck that was good Mom!" she whispered as her breathing and racing
heart resumed a more relaxed rate.  Helen knew that he would never tire of
this wonderful woman-child who lay beneath her.  Her eyes were closed;
slowly Helen pulled her hand from the wet cloying walls.  As their bodies
cooled, the drying mixture sweat, and juices began gluing their bodies
together.

   Further aft in the chartroom Shelle stood over the radar set.  A conical
shaped hood shaded the CRT screen from the bright sun overhead.  The radar
set was scaled to12 miles; the sweep consisted of a single line radius
constantly turning from the center.  Three concentric circles denoted 3
miles, 6 miles and 9 miles respectively.  The image of the marina and
shoreline looked like neon painted relief map.  She was beginning to get
used to the Russian set, it was similar to the German Telefunken sets that
she had trained on when learning Radar Navigation at college.  Vessels
moved across her circular screen as bright blips relative to her position,
it took a few minutes to verify if any blip on her screen was on a
collision course, far different to the split second computing necessary in
aircraft navigation, due to the variance in speeds.  Most vessels will move
at speeds well below 40 Mph while aircrafts move at a minimum of four times
that rate.  She looked out of the hatch up at Kim standing at the wheel. 
Shelle's head was level with Kim's knee.

   "Kim I have a target about five miles to Starboard on a constant bearing
of 265 degrees, can you see it?" She asked.

   "Uh huh, I see it." She said, putting the helm over slightly altering
the boats course slightly towards Shelle's radar target.  "How's that?" She
asked.  "Is the bearing still constant, Babe?"

   Shelle peered at the screen for a bout two minutes before returning to
the hatch.  She reached up, cupping Kim's mons outside her crisp white
shorts and squeezing possessively.  "Bearing's opening, were ok." Kim's
pussy warmed instantly in her grasp.  She bent her knees slightly allowing
Shelle a better grip and leverage.  Shelle released her grip and slid her
hand inside Kim's shorts, cupping her hand, her palm and fingers mashed
Kim's warming labia, her forefinger splaying her damp lips, her fingertips
traced circles around her clit, while her palm pressed up across her
drenched crack.  The boat moved to meet the waves, the deck below Kim's
moved as the boat met each successive wave.  Her knees acted like shock
absorbers rising and falling at regular intervals.  Kim's pussy was
instantly wet as Shelle's hand began to scrunch her labia.  During the trip
across from their South Island home, Shelle's lips and slender fingers had
given her a blissful orgasm, her body was still in tune with her lover, she
shuddered her pussy contracting deliciously.  She bit her bottom lip as the
mini orgasm took her attention off the task at hand and the helm fell away,
with the compass chattering noisily.  "Dammit girl don't do that, do you
want us to sink?" she asked grinning, while pulling Shelle's wet fingers
from her shorts, correcting her steering and resuming the correct course.

   "I kinda remember a steering lesson not so long ago, when a certain
skipper fucked a naked lil sailor girl while she stood diligently at the
wheel." Shelle answered while licking her fingers.

   Kim response scared the hell out of Shelle.  "I love you Michelle." She
said staring down at Shelle's upturned grinning face.  Shelle blanched, no
one had said that to her, like that, in a long, long time.  She pretended
to peer into the hooded radar set.

   "Hon, want to go forward and check that the foresail and main's halyards
are threaded and reeved through their winches?" Kim asked.  "I'm going to
hoist sail once we're clear of the Island and this traffic." She continued.

   Shelle avoided Kim's eyes as she squeezed past her.  She checked that
the ropes that hoisted the various sails were reeved through their winches,
that the yards were correctly laid out through their blocks and tackles and
that there were no kinks, crossed or tangled lines.  She gave Kim the age
old hand signal of rolling her hand clock-wise, index finger pointing
upward.

   Kim pressed the various chromed buttons on the console, watching
carefully as the blue and white Dacron sails moved steadily up the masts,
hoisted by synchronized electrical winches.  Immediately the boat canted as
the wind began to catch the sails, Kim pushed the throttle stalks to idle,
retracted the pitch of the bronze propellers and shutdown the engines.  All
of a sudden it was silent.  From the console Kim manipulated the winches,
trimming the sails.  After almost loosing way, the speed picked up again as
the sails filled, they were under sail.  The yacht moved almost silently
through the water, the only sound coming from the gulls overhead, and the
slap made by the wavelets as the bow smacked through them.

   Shelle stood just before the main mast looking out at the blue sea and
clear cloudless sky.  It was truly beautiful; it was almost by chance she
looked down through the fore cabin's domed sunroof.  She saw Helen lying
between Stacie's thighs.  She watched as the mother rough-fisted her
daughter, and watched intently as the expression of ecstasy etched itself
across Stacie's up-turned face when she finally climaxed.  Shelle retreated
to the main deck and moved aft to the stern, grinning.  She whispered what
she had seen to Kim, who chuckled, hugged Shelle, then kissed her softly,
her fingers slipping down along her inside her shorts and patting her bare
ass.  Shelle nipped her ear.

   "Cool, at least they aren't uptight, maybe I can organize us a
foursome." Kim snickered.  Shelle pretended not to hear Kim's words as she
slid past her back down into the chartroom

   Helen and Stacie lay together, dozing for a few minutes, still joined,
in gratified silence.  "Hey!" Stacie said after a while, looking
puzzled,"its quiet, the engine stopped, we better go see what's happening."


   "You go look!  I need to shower and change, your juice has gotten me all
messy and my top is soaked, jeez!  And just look at what we did to the bed.
If we've hit an iceberg come fetch me" Helen said laughing.

   Stacie dressed, watching her naked mother stretching herself out
languidly on the bed; she toweled the drying moisture from her body before
donning her clothes.  She walked aft through the saloon and passed Shelle
in the chartroom and up the few stairs out onto the deck.  Kim grinned as
she came up towards her.

   "Want to steer?" She asked.

   "Isn't there anyone more qualified?" She asked seriously before taking
the wheel from Kim.

   "Ok Stacie, were on a course of 200 degrees, wind is coming off our port
quarter." She said pointing behind her." Just keep her like this." She said
watching him carefully as she began to take control of the helm.  She
nodded approvingly.  "I see you've sailed before."

   "Um, yes it was last year though, on Lake Ontario, It was on a boat a
lot smaller than this, a Hunter 30, as far as I can remember.  Mom rents it
so we could learn how to sail and have some 'girl time' away from the
world."Stacie explained.

   Shelle watched from the chartroom as Kim showed Stacie the various
controls on the console.  Kim needed to correct her steering a few times,
before she got the hang of the boats controls.  After about 15 minutes she
had left her to steer alone and joined Shelle in the chartroom.

   Helen walked into the chartroom, in a fresh bikini top, her hair still
wet from showering, she had brushed it straight back.  She smiled politely
at Kim and Shelle until she spotted her daughter at the wheel.  "Oh no!"
She squealed mockingly, "She'll hit an iceberg, I better go help." she
giggled while climbing up onto the deck alongside her daughter, giving both
Kim and Shelle a perfect view of her thin lipped, perfectly trimmed pussy
gaping open between freckled thighs under her short pink skirt.

   Kim turned to Shelle and licked her lips, suggestively, "lets join them
on deck." She smirked.  "In a while Kim, in a while, lets just enjoy the
view." Shelle answered winking sexily.

   The looks Kim and Shelle exchanged were priceless.