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From: pembury@aol.com

Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories

Subject: STORY 4/5: "My Sailboat Summer" by Pentland

Date: 24 Nov 1996 19:47:49 GMT

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        TO CONTINUE READING, YOU MUST BE OVER 18,

                   AND UNDERSTAND

    THE TITLE OF THIS NEWSGROUP: alt.sex.stories

    =======================================



 Lily, this is PART 4, in the way I have chopped up this recounting.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------

Nicki and I worked our way in this manner up the north-east coast as

far as Martha's Vinyard, then back via Block Island and Gardiners Bay.

It was fun talking with Nicki about history and present-day politics.

Her understanding, of course, tended to be a santitized school-teacher

version. It was most enjoyable to open her eyes to lesser-known

evidence of motivations that had been driving events . She was a quick

learner, (as I had already found!), had a prodigious memory and

enjoyed using her mind.



Every night we ate well, often from lobster, shrimp, oysters  or

steak, and we moored sometimes at a marina, but it was more fun for us

when we entered a port during the day to buy our dinner, then went and

found an anchorage for the night without other boats around where we

could be our own uninhibited selves, skinny-dipping . . and so on . . .



Nicki had sassed me a few times along the way, with the consequences

that I'd promised to her . . . At one of our lone anchorages, the sun

was just setting, a full moon was rising, a pleasantly warm breeze

came lightly from the south; any boat would, like ours, have its

lights showing, and none were in sight. That evening was late into our

second and last week; we were standing on deck near the mast . . . and

Nicki sassed me yet again . . .



The mainsail and jibs were down, of course, as we rode at anchor. This

left the mast as an unencumbered metal shaft, rising into the warm

night sky, with only the halyard lines and some flag-hoists of

smoothly braided nylon, as thick as your finger, running up along the

length of the mast. Each one passed up and over a pulley at the top,

and down again to the cleat that fastened it at the foot of the mast.



Nicki had hardly got her sassy words out when I grabbed her wrists and

quickly had them tied together with my belt of soft leather. I looped

the end of the belt around the mast and tied it back on itself; that

left her able to move her wrists up and down the mast as the loop of

leather belt slid along the metal shaft. She was struggling around,

jerking wrists up and down on the mast, sticking her bottom out and in

again and kicking her legs around: but she could not move far!



I just said: "Right Nicki, you know what happens when you sass me!

It'll be a bit different this time, though! This will be a spanking

like you have never dreamed of!", and I left Nicki there to stew for

a bit and went below. She was fuming when I got back, but stopped

swearing when curiosity overcame her as she saw my briefcase. I

started by releasing the mainsail halyard and fastened the shackle

to the leather ties at her wrists; then I pulled on the other end of

the halyard: instead of pulling up the mainsail, it pulled Nicki's

wrists up the mast!



I laid my briefcase flat on the deck, and told Nicki to step onto it

as I continued to yank on the halyard. Her wrists were pulled up the

mast by this rope which went up to the top; it went through a pulley

there and came down again to the end that I was tugging at: she *had*

to step up onto the briefcase, which placed her at the height above

the deck that I wanted her . . . but I'm sure she did not yet have any

idea *why* I wanted her on this little platform! When Nicki's wrists

were at the height I wanted them, I fastened the rope back on its

cleat at the foot of the mast. I completely ignored her shouts of

"Beast! Bully! What are you going to dooo to me? Bluebeard! Ohhhhh!

You're horrrrible!!"



Next, down came her shorts and panties, and I began to give her the

spanking that she fully expected. The difference this time was that I

cupped my hand and made it come up from below her bottom. The cheeks

of her bottom were even lovlier with her being upright: their weight

pulled them down slightly to accentuate their beautiful curves.



As I spanked, her lovely orbs bounced upwards with each blow and I

could see the shock waves travel up through the rotundity of her

bottom. I knew the same exciting shock-waves were pounding up inside

her pelvis too. Nicki was squirming and wriggling against the mast

and the braided ropes that travelled up it.



Nicki's cries rang out loud and clear across the water, and I was

keeping a sharp look-out for boats' lights: "Nooo! I diiidn't mean it!

Stoooop! You're a beeeeast! Ohhhh!". She was wriggling around all the

time and sticking her bottom out away from the mast then pressing back

hard against the ropes. I thought Nicki might fall off the briefcase,

but her hands were tied too far up the mast for that.



At last she howled: "Pent! I'm soooory! Pleeese stooop! I'm sooory!

I'm sooory!! Pleeese!", and her bottom was very warm by then.



She always said "Sorry" when she really wanted me to stop, and

I did stop and stood beside her gently rubbing the rosy cheeks of her

bottom, as I made soothing noises, saying: "I do wish you wouldn't

sass me, Nicki. I *have* to spank you for your own good. You know how

I hate having to do it! Let me try and sooth the pain, now you have

said you are sorry". And I heard Nicki's gurgling laugh, in spite of

her tears, at what I'd said.



Then I dropped to my knees on the deck and began to kiss her darling

bottom and suck and nibble . . . I soon had my face buried into her

cleft; I just came up at intervals for air, then rammed my face back

in again as my tongue flicked like a humming-bird's in and out of her

honey pot.



Nicki was becoming more and more aroused with this prolonged sensuous

treatment. I could hear her breath coming in gasps as she wriggled

around pressing herself against the ropes on the mast. At last she was

jerking around so much that it took all the strength in my hands

and neck to stop her escaping from my pursuing tongue, and she

exploded into an ecstatic orgasm: her gasps and shouts must have been

clearly audible across the water a mile away.







I stood up behind her and held Nicki close. My arms were around her

and the mast, and I supported her while she gradually got calmer. At

this point I took the bottle of baby oil from my pocket and removed my

own pants. I knelt again on the deck and started to stroke Nicki's

bottom with the oil on my fingers.



She began again to grind herself against the ropes on the mast as my

thumb slowly worked its way into her bottom. I poured plenty of the

oil on my rock-hard yard and stood up again behind Nicki; it was then

she realized the purpose of the briefcase: it put her at exactly the

right height for me to slide my yard slooooowly up into her bottom!



When I had finally slid my yard all the way in, as far as I could go,

and I was pressing against Nicki's warm bottom, and she was hard

against the ropes on the mast, she murmured: "Oh, Pent! that is sooo

wonderful! Just stay still and hold me tightly! I want to remember

this moment for ever!", and I did as she asked. Only after a long

time to savour the moment, many minutes later, did I start to move my

yard slooowly in and out of her bottom.



As I thrust up into Nicki's bottom each time, I pressed my pelvis hard

against her lovely hot cheeks and moved from side to side to rub her

against those ropes on the mast. Even quicker than usual I could

feel Nicki start to shake and shudder and jerk in erratic spasms, and

she began to make those strange animal noises of hers low down in her

throat as her excitement rose in her second orgasm and I came with

her as we joined together in primitive priapic roars of wild ectatic

pleasure which travelled for miles across the still night sea!



                          END PART 4 OF 5

                          ===============



Note: Comments will be most welcome. Thank you! Pent <PEmbury@aol.com>

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