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 THIS STORY IS PROTECTED UNDER THE LAWS OF COPYRIGHT.  ANY REPRODUCTIONS,
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   This story is one of a series of stories published to
www.asstr.org/~doalfer.  Please also read the other ones, preferably in the
right order.  I am very grateful for the proofreading done by my friend PJ.
Comments are very welcome.  Jennifer Doalfer - doalfer@hotmail.com

   {ASSM} A Boating Experience (F/M, Voy), by Jennifer Doalfer

   A BOATING EXPERIENCE By Jennifer Doalfer Copyright 2000 Jennifer Doalfer


   I think it is time to dig out one of the old stories from my archives.
This is one of the first stories I have translated from Danish.  I have
also added some dialog, as my early stories rarely include dialog, which
tends to make it a bit boring if you don't have the dialog in the back of
your head as I have.  (This is a reader request by the way.  So you see - I
respond to the wishes of my readership).

   When I was 19, I was invited along to a company party, where I met one
of my father's colleagues..  It is my father's company and he always
invited me to company functions.  This guy was the sales director, a very
good-looking man who really didn't look the 50 plus I realised that he must
have been.  There weren't very many interesting people at this party, so
when this guy (he was actually called Paul like my husband, but spelt the
English rather than the Scandinavian way), appeared very interested in me,
I was quite flattered, and didn't mind his advances.  I knew he was single,
had a very nice Porsche, a huge flat overlooking the harbour area, and was
considered something of a playboy by the other people in the company.  When
we danced he was always touching my rear or caressing the curves of my
breasts with his thumbs when his hand rested on my sides during the slow
dances.  In my rebellious youth, I probably found it decadent and naughty
to have an affair with an older man, someone who was even working for my
father.  I readily accepted his invitation to continue the evening at his
flat.  After departing separately for the sake of my father, we raced back
to his flat in his Porsche (no drinking and driving, I was the only one who
had been drinking).  I wasn't disappointed as he proved to be excellent
lover, and extremely obliging and nice, so we continued seeing each other
regularly during the next six months.

   My story takes place one summer weekend on Paul's boat.  Paul had a
sleek 28 foot sailing boat, which he mostly used for racing, but which was
also great for weekend trips.  He shared it with one of the sales managers
of the company (whose name was Lars).  They had a crew of two more who
sailed with them during the week when they raced in the evenings at local
club races or at bigger ones some weekends.  However, as Lars had been
divorced for more that a year at the time, they often went away for weekend
trips.  I think they probably went to the local pubs at the harbours where
they moored, to try to pick up some company.  Since Paul had met me, I
often spent the weekends on the boat with him.  Lars hinted he would like
to come along as he missed his weekend trips, and also he probably had the
right to half the weekends, according to the agreement they had on the use
of the boat.

   I didn't mind having Lars along.  He was quite amusing, fairly
good-looking, but not very tall.  On the other hand he was very muscular
and must have spent a good part of his time working out to maintain a body
like that.  In practice it meant that Paul and I couldn't make love.  Or at
least Paul didn't think we should because our bunk in the front of the
boat, and the main cabin where Lars slept, was only separated by a thin
curtain (to keep the weight down for the racing).  Paul was also a bit
jealous of Lars looking too much at my skimpy bikini and he had asked me,
very politely and nicely, if I would mind not walking around on the boat
topless as I used to.  I accepted this for the sake of Paul.  It was,
after, all only for one weekend, but I missed the stares from the sailors
on the other boats when we sailed out of the narrow channel which leads
from the harbour to the open water (almost a two hour sail, or motoring if
the wind was against us).  That usually had me so excited that we would
find a way of making love as soon as we hit open water (yes - you can make
love and steer a boat at the same time).

   Paul and I had compromised a little; he had accepted that I could wear
my very small tanga bikini, where the material is only attached by strings
so that it can be moved to avoid lines.  I didn't want to start getting
white areas on my breasts; I was so proud of them, as they were exactly the
same colour as the rest of my body.

   That meant there was only the psychological difference between being
naked and not, because the bikini didn't really cover anything.  Lars kept
looking at me when he thought that Paul wasn't watching, and I quite
enjoyed his stares.  I was very easily excitable in those days, and the
frustration of Paul's Friday night petting session, which I couldn't really
respond to, because of Lars only being about four feet away, was getting to
me.

   On Saturday afternoon we had a long tack ahead of us towards the island
of Anholt, a good way out in the open sea.

   "Paul", I said, in a sugar-honey voice, "would it make any difference if
I went to lie topless on the foredeck." That was my favourite place on the
boat.  Lying out there I was practically hidden by the sails and sprayhood,
and as long as we didn't have to adjust the sails to tack, I could lie out
there without Lars watching me.

   "Sure, go ahead," Paul said.  "We usually end up talking work back here,
so that would probably bore you anyway".

   I grabbed one of the cushions from the benches in the cockpit and made
my way to the front.  There wasn't a lot of wind, so we were only heeling
at a slight angle.  The sun was on the whole foredeck, so I would get lots
of sun.  The cushion would just fit in between the mast and the hatch,
which was slightly open.  The hatch was in the forward cabin, which also
had the sea toilet, so when we were sailing we usually kept it open to air
it out.  That didn't matter too much, I could squeeze my body down on the
cushion and spread my legs on either side of the hatchway.  I looked
around, but apart from a fishing boat on the horizon there were no other
boats about.  "A pity," I thought as I undid the bikini top and tied it to
a rope by the mast so it wouldn't fly away.  Turning around I could only
barely see Lars and Paul in the cockpit through the clear plastic panel
that served as a window in the sprayhood.  But I knew that if they could
see anything at all, it would only be my head, as the plastic window was
opaque with salt from dried seawater.  I realised I should have brought a
book, but decided just to lie down and relax.

   It wasn't long before I started to doze and dream.  I dreamt that Paul
was playing with me in the forward cabin and that Lars having heard us
joined in.  I woke feeling randy and wet.  I turned around again to ensure
that neither of the men were actually watching me, and then pulled the
bikini bottom to the side as my fingers found my wet love-button.  It
didn't take me long to climax.  I was biting my lips hard not to move too
much in case they were able to see any movements through the sprayhood.  As
the spasm subsided I moved the bikini bottom back and enjoyed the last
small after-orgasms as I pulled the bikini bottom up so hard, it dug in
between my swollen lips.  I hit my head as I bounced back down on the
cushion, exhausted but also nicely satisfied.

   I must have drifted off to sleep again.  I woke with a start as
something touched my knee.  I jumped up, but froze as I noticed it was Lars
poking his head up through the hatch.  Instinctively I tried to move my
legs together, but the frame of the hatch was in the way.  The next
automatic response was to try to cover up my breasts.  It was futile
however.  The top was still tied to the mast, and anyway, anything he had
wanted to see he had done so already.  I turned around on an elbow to see
what Paul was doing.  He was sitting in his favourite position, leaning
back in the corner of the cockpit, steering with the holding the tiller
loosely in his hand.  He must have been able to see me through the plastic
window, as he waved at me.  The natural reaction was to wave back, which I
did.  Then, flustered, I turned to Lars.

   "What do you think you are doing?" I whispered.

   "I am pretending to have a rest.  Right now I have been to the toilet,
or rather I am pretending that as well," he whispered back with a sly
smile. As he stopped speaking I noticed his eyes leaving my breasts on
which they had been focussed while he had been speaking to me and travel
down my body.  As they came to rest between my legs, I realised that my
bikini bottoms were still pulled tight into my crotch and that in all
probability, my still wet and swollen lips, must have been very obvious.  I
again tried to close my legs, but as I felt the cold metal of the hatch
frame against them, I realised I might as well give up.  I was also
starting to get aroused with the thought of where he was staring, and I
soon felt my nipples hardening.  His hand again touched the inside of my
thighs.  I was expecting his touch, but I still jumped as his hand hit the
soft skin halfway between my knee and crotch.

   Leaning on my elbows, I watched as Lars slowly traced his finger up the
inside of my leg until it slightly touched my swollen lips.  I was getting
very hot again.  He pulled the material aside and slipped a finger inside.
I could feel the cold air as it hit the exposed spot, but that just added
to the sensation.  I knew he had been watching me, and I had, kind of
imagined how I would let him have a glimpse of my breasts if I could get
away with it without Paul noticing, but I hadn't thought it would get this
far, but I certainly didn't mind.  He had pulled my bikini bottom so far
down now, that he could move the material completely away to the side
exposing me completely.

   I looked around, we were getting closer to the shore, and I could see
other boats in the vicinity, but I didn't think they would be able to
notice what was going on.  I lay down on the cushion, spreading my legs as
much as I could.  His fingers had found the right spot and he was
systematically rubbing it quickly, building up the fever in my body.  I
felt him grip my thighs and pull me all the way down to him, and the next
thing I knew he had his tongue buried inside me.  I almost did a backward
summersault as my back lifted off the cushion and I rested on my neck.  I
was able to see the sprayhood upside down.  I was trying to see Paul
through it, but Lars had pulled me so far down that he was no longer
visible.  As I realised that I wasn't visible to him either, I let go and
as Lars hands reached all the way up to my breasts, working on my exploding
nipples, and his tongue was doing an incredible efficient job on my love
button, it wasn't long before the first uncontrollable spasm started to
roll in.  As I shook my head from side to side I realised we were now much
closer to land, and a surfer was keeping up the same speed right next to
us. I couldn't see his eyes because of his surf glasses, but I was sure he
was watching, especially as he kept the same speed and distance.  That just
added to the excitement.  Lars's hand had left my breasts, trying to hold
me down so his tongue could finish the job.  I grabbed my breasts myself,
and while I rubbed the nipples, I kept watching the surfer out of the
corner of my eye, as I finally came in a strong, blinding body-bending
orgasm.  I kept rubbing my nipples as the shakes subsided, and when I
finally looked down, I realised that Lars had disappeared.  I looked over
at the surfer as I moved back on the cushion, totally spent.  I don't think
more that five minutes had elapsed since Lars first popped his head up.  I
could almost convince myself that it was just another dream.

   "Jennifer," I heard Paul calling, " that surfer over there keeps staring
at you." I looked over at him, as if for the first time, half facing him,
and I turned around to see Paul standing at the side of the boat.  Lars was
at the helm.

   "Oh Paul, What do you expect.  I don't mind," I said as I waved to the
surfer.  He waved back and changed tack to move away from us again.  I
turned around to Paul, "It is probably not the first time he has seen a
topless girl on a boat." But it probably was the first time he had watched
somebody getting an orgasm on a foredeck, I thought to myself.  "It is only
you being so old-fashioned." I leant up to get my bikini top, but didn't do
anything to hide myself from Paul or Lars as I put in on and made my way
back to the cockpit.  Paul looked confused, as if he didn't know what to
say, and chose to leave it at that.  I looked at Lars who looked like a cat
who had just licked a saucer of cream, but then I knew that what he had
really licked, was my cream.  I couldn't help laughing to myself as I
realised how silly Paul's concern for Lars maybe seeing my naked breasts
was now, in the light of what he had really seen and done to me.

   I have seen Lars a few times at company parties since then, but all that
has happened is that we have exchanged knowing winks when we have been
politely speaking to each other.  I have had dreams of having sex with him
on the boat, both with and without Paul being present, and the five-minute
experience on the foredeck has come vividly to my mind many times. 
Unfortunately nothing further has ever happened except in my head.  Maybe
one day that can become the basis for a new erotic dream story?

   END

   Copyright Jennifer Doalfer