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Coming About

By: BlueByrd



Wynn and I made ready to go to the regatta, per our usual, loading the camper and securing the boat to the trailer. Harriman "Harry" Whitcliff, our third crewmember, heir of the Whitcliff Sail Corporation family and long-time friend of Wynn's, said he would meet us there. He never stayed in the camper. He always drove his MG and took a room at a nearby motel.

I had crewed as foredeck man for Wynn for 7 years, since I was 16. It was my job to man the jib, set and fly the spinnaker, hang my 130 lb. ass over the rail in heavy weather and crouch motionless by the centerboard trunk when it was calm. 

Harry was our spare pair of hands. He adjusted the centerboard, helped me set the spinnaker, helped Wynn handle the main and positioned his ass as the skipper directed, as well. Harry was kind of a playboy... or at least featured himself as one. He would find some lithe honey at the opening get-together and date her for the weekend, meaning they would be at his motel room Friday and Saturday nights, screwing their brains out. Harry was absolutely in his element at regatta; trolling for the Wellfleet, Corinthian and Eastern Point trust fund chics was the sub-sport at hand. 

Nonetheless, I'm sure neither he nor Wynn, for that matter, ever minded watching my ass as I crawled up on the foredeck to set sail, make fast the bowline or lie prostrate, legs spread, to snatch the mooring. Further I knew they both enjoyed seeing the contours of my tits with hardened nipples through my clinging tee shirt when cold spray soaked me. In fact, I was rather pleased that they watched me. 

Although, I had always gone to regattas with Wynn and bunked in close quarters, he had never made an inappropriate move towards me. Fifteen years older than I, at 38, he had a wife, two sons and a great career as a corporate VP in finance. But for me, having lost my virginity two years earlier, he rose on the horizon as one hot handsome hunk of a man.

The ride to the regatta site was uneventful and pulling in around 7:30 PM, we unhooked the boat, set up the camper for the night and headed for the opening cocktail party. It was BYOB, unless you were satisfied drinking the rum punch they served by the tumbler. The women's auxiliary of the yacht club hosting the regatta had outdone themselves: the munchie and hors d'oeuvre choice was spectacular. Canned Muzak played in the back- ground until the "young people" got to the stereo system and things began to cook. 

I didn't want to get blitzed because there is nothing worse than puking your guts out and then having to crew hungover the next day; so I stuck to my usual three drinks, which got me lit without doing me in. I chatted with people I knew from the racing circuit and danced. At 11, Wynn cut the guy I was slow dancing with and, taking his place, announced that it was bedtime. 

"Yes, daddy," I jokingly sulked. 

Wynn danced me out the door; and, as we walked across the yard, we had the first of our usual pre-race conversations to assure that we would be on the same page in the morning. It was a pretty walk. The moon was full, making that classic poetic silver path across the water. 

Now I don't credit the phase of the moon entirely, but on the same page – competitively, I wondered about, as we drifted across the yard, how we might get in the same bunk – affectionately. 

In the camper Wynn always slept in his skivvies; and I, in an oversized tee shirt and panties. Not sure how he would react, I took a chance. Leaving my nightshirt in my bag, I waited for Wynn, now in the camper water closet, to finish brushing his teeth.

Opening the door, he came out. Standing only a few feet away, Wynn said smiling and laughing, "Well, that's lovely, " and then sternly, "but what the Hell do you think you are doing? Are you drunk?"

Naked, except for my red panties, I walked to him, put my arms around his neck and whispered, "Wynn, we've been together on this course for seven years. It's time for us to come about. I'm on the pill and no one will ever know except you and me. "

Wynn weakly protested, uttering a soft, "But it's not right," where upon I kissed him with a generously open mouth; and he responded, gently probing with his tongue. Reaching down, I fondled his package to find his length hardening. His groping my tits was all that I had imagined in my masturbation reveries. 

"You are so sexy, Leah, and I have watched you growing up... been so tempted... but I never imagined this possibility, this fantasy, could ever be a reality."

I helped him strip his tee and pull down his BVD's. Then, kneeling in front of him, I began eating his cock.

"Oh, my God. I can't believe you're sucking my cock," he sighed. "I haven't had my cock in a woman's mouth since before I was married."

Still stroking his meat with my hand, I met his gaze and breathed, "I love to eat cock. I especially enjoy sucking down a man's cum." 

Taking his cock back in my mouth, I consumed its length. He moaned; and, placing his hands on either side of my head, he fucked my mouth.

"I have to stop," Wynn gasped, "Or you won't get yours." 

He then lifted me to my feet, stripped my panties to the camper floor, and helped me climb up to the double bunk, where he usually sleeps.

"Sit with your legs over the edge so that I can eat your pussy," he directed. 

My cunt was dripping with my juices. I spread my legs as wide as I could, and Wynn parted my lips and began to lap my vagina and drink my secretions, that poured even more heavily, as I watched him chow down on me. Coming up for air, he told me how sweet my cunt was and how beautifully I had presented myself. 

"There it is," I heard him say just before he latched on to my bud and began sucking hard. 

"Arggggggg!" I moaned with exquisite pleasure and began to pant as he nibbled and sucked and ground my clit. I put my hand on his head, and I was tempted to mash his face into my cunt, but I resisted. Instead I began to play with my tits. He shoved two fingers into my vagina and finger-fucked me, leading me to vocalize even more strongly. I whined and mewled. Hotter and hotter, higher and higher, closer and closer to climax, I began to buck; and he sent me over the top. I felt myself bloom and I ejaculated. Wynn drank my ambrosia and the first spasms of my O continued for at least ten seconds. And then there were more. I was in full flow.

Lifting his face from my crotch to breathe, he stuttered in amazement, "My God, Leah. I...I...You ejaculated and you're still cumming." 

"Oh, yes, yes," I gasped out of breath. "You made me come so hard. I've only squirted once before and that guy was extraordinary. Come up here and give me your cock now. I want to drink your cum."

Wynn joined me on his top bunk, ever close to exploding just from the sight of getting me off so completely. Feathering his rim and frenulum with my tongue, I took him down to the balls and then withdrew up the shaft, tight-lipped, to work on the head of his cock. Then back down to his balls I went. He was fucking my face then strongly; and then, midst groans, he jacked his load. Swallowing every ounce of his semen, I sucked his balls dry.

"Oh, wow, Leah, that was incredible! Thank you so much. I can't remember when I've been blown so beautifully or cum so strongly! God, was that good!"

Wynn and I slept the night through together in the top bunk, and in the morning, lying together like spoons, his morning hard-on found my vagina. He fucked me from the rear, giving me a G-spot rub, which I love. 

We behaved ourselves during the day racing, but left the Saturday night banquet early. I knew he was married and would not give up his wife and, frankly, I didn't want a ready-made family; but we happily agreed that we could be great fuck-buddies for the occasional regatta.

Coming About Again



For the members of the Mariana Yacht Club, the Fourth of July means a Lightning regatta, rum tasting, cook-out, dance and fireworks. Leah Shaw had been crewing for Wynn Boxlightner on Afterglow since she was 16 and this would be their 8th Fourth of July Regatta in as many seasons.

Now 23, Leah had grown up. Having lost her virginity two years before at college to a Columbia Lion, she had come to view Wynn, who had been a close and loving father figure, in a very different light -- a distinctly erotic light. The previous fall at the International Lightning Regatta in their shared quarters in his camper, they "came about" and did, as they say, what comes naturally. Although Leah knew he was married, she had no thought that he would give up his wife and family to marry her. Excited about the turn their friendship had taken, they agreed to continue not only as great friends, but also as lovers during the away regattas. 

That casual arrangement meant to Leah that she was is still free to be on the prowl for "Mr. Right." The 3-man crews of the other Lightnings in their home fleet offer a fresh crop of able-bodied men to cruise every summer. Muscular tanned bodies with sun-streaked hair, often stripped to the waist and slick with sweat, add to the scenery, if ultimately nothing else. And who knows? Perhaps some day a summer romance will turn into a steady thing.

Afterglow's third crewmember, Harry Whitcliff, who is a long-time friend of Wynn's, was not interested in her, she reasoned. Harry prefers lithe rich girls, which she is not. He may like watching her ass as she crawls up on the foredeck and seeing the contours of her tits with hardened nipples through her wet tee soaked with the cold sprays. But dating her, she was sure, did not enter his mind.

Camaraderie among skippers and crews of the Lightning fleet develops easily. Banter and boasts fill the air in the boatyard as everyone makes ready to launch for this, the third race of the season. The top rivalry is between their boat, Afterglow, and Evan Goode and his crew of Up & Coming, consisting of himself, his wife Angela, and a new guy, Cal Farnham. 

Cal, 30, had been Evan's college roommate, frat brother and lacrosse teammate and now is a contractor enjoying his recreation as foredeck man. He is a handsome man--strongly built at 5'10" with thick black hair, a broad smile and sparkling dark brown eyes. 

Cal liked Leah from the first moment he saw her. The song that goes, "Five foot two; eyes of blue; and oh, what those five feet can do!" was definitely written about the likes of Leah. Wearing her racing attire, sun glasses, a white tee-shirt and blue denim Daisy Dukes, she is an eyeful for Cal. Noting her thick reddish brown ponytail topped by her trademark hot pink visor, he guesses she weighs about 135 pounds. He likes Leah's hour-glass figure accented by her big tits, round bottom, and strong, shapely legs. A man lucky enough to embrace her soft grace, he thinks, will know he is touching a real woman, the kind of woman a man can hold onto and really fuck and not worry about being stabbed by a bony hipbone.

"Hey, Leah, you guys ready to get beat this year?" Cal yells from two boats away across the yard. 

"Sure!" she yells in reply. "Just the other day Wynn's wife, Barbara, was complaining that their mantle is so full of hardware that she's run out of space for new trophies. Furthermore, she's sick of polishing the shit. Too bad there's nobody here that can take us." Leah jibes.

"Well, I'm Evan's foredeck man now. There'll be a new regime soon. Mark my words," he counters wagging a finger at her.

"Big talk for a new boy," she quips broadly grinning. 

Leah, who has been fixing the jib to the forestay, stands up, turns her ass towards Cal and shakes it. "See this?" she says pointing to her butt.

"Who could miss it? It's big enough!" Cal snipes playfully.

"Yeah? Well, get used to the view, pal. It's the one you'll be looking at as we cross the finish line every week," she says laughing and patting her bum.

Leah had been flirting with Cal the previous two race weekends. He seems to be a nice guy, being both smart and good-natured. Leah loves a man with a big sack, and Cal's jeep shorts show off a good-sized package. Last weekend, when he was sucking down a beer in the yard after the race, he had one leg slung over the centerboard trunk; and she caught a peek up the leg of his shorts of his cock resting on his thigh. Even at parade rest she could see that it was sizable. She stood there nonchalantly chatting, looking at him and it until she finished her own beer. She wondered if he knew he was hanging out. She also wondered when he'd get off the dime and ask her out. She'd love to give that cock a good sucking and a ride.

Today's race is a screamer for the 14 boats that vie for position at the starting line. Bright sunlight glints on blue water frothing with white caps whipped up by the 10 - 15 knot winds and knock-downs gusting to 20. Everyone's life-jacketed ass gets soaking wet from the spray and hanging out over the rail on the high side. On the windward legs shouts of "Starboard!!!" are followed by an emphatic cuss or two and a "Hold your course!" or "Ready about!" that can be clearly heard to leeward as the heavy air carries the sound across the water. On downwind legs shouts of "Luff!!!" or "Coming up!!!" are followed by scrambles and shouts of "Sheet in!!!" or "Responding!" as the crews of windward yachts scramble into action, easing spinnaker poles and quickly, but cautiously, sheeting in. 

At the end of the race, the order over the finish line is as predicted by Leah: Afterglow first, followed by Up & Coming. She is tempted to moon Cal, but she settles for merely standing up on the foredeck, winking at him and slapping her right rump cheek a couple of times as the boats approach adjacent slips at the dock.

The wind is with the tide so all crews are busy dropping their mainsails and coming to the dock under the jib only. Over the line first, Leah steps onto the dock bowline in hand and ties up as Harry drops the jib. She is soaked to the skin and when she sheds her lifejacket, her wet white tee and soft-cup cotton bra are transparent. With the arrival of the other boats, she assumes a casual stance, holding the headstay and fending off with her foot, all the while pretending she is unaware that she is showing off her tits. She knows their predominantly male crews are liking the view. She tries to look some of them in the eye. Some of the married guys and guys that have known her since she was a child look away embarrassed; but, amusingly, a couple of the guys either at the tiller or on the foredeck are distracted enough that their boats bang the dock. 

Wynn and Harry smile as they know exactly what Leah is about. They shake their heads and smirk as they take off sails and get ready to pull the boat out. At the evening party they will be sure to give their friends the business about staring at Leah's tits -- especially those whose boats hit the dock.

By 3 o'clock the boats are secured in the dry-sail lot on their trailers and the sails have been folded, bagged and put away in their lockers. Cal catches up with Leah as she crosses the yard on her way to her car. "Leah, coming tonight?" he asks.

"Wouldn't miss it! And you?" she asks.

"Me either. Meet me at the rum tasting at 6?" he asks hopefully.

"Be delighted," she smiles thinking to herself, "Finally, he's asking!"

"And," he continues, taking her hands and facing her, "stay with me for the cookout and the dance through the fireworks?" 

"I think that would be fine," she says responding brightly.

"It's BYO-Steak for the cookout, and I bought a huge porterhouse that I'd like to share with you. Okay?"

"Okay."

"And I bought a bottle of Beaujolais and some scotch and soda. Share that, too?"

"Oh, wow, yes! I love both. What a treat. Thank you. I bought some shrimp and cocktail sauce for an hors d'ouvre. Shall I bring that?" she asks.

"Why not! So, it's a date?" he smiles, knowing the answer. 

"It's a date!" she chimes happily, but thinking, "Better late than never, buddy -- 3 hours before the party!" 

He squeezes her hands as they exchange a friendly smooch. Then they part company to go home, clean up and get ready for the evening's festivities.

Cal gets to the club ahead of Leah. As he is supposed to save places for them and the rest of their group--his skipper, Evan, and his wife, Angela, and Wynn and his wife, Barbara, and Harry and his date-du-jour as well—he stakes out a table near where the band will set up.

Leah is the second arrival at the club's dining hall. Her shoulder length hair is down and she is wearing a knee-length tan halter-top sun dress and black high-heeled strappy sandals. As she walks towards him, Cal notices her very feminine hip sway and her softly undulating breasts. He is especially appreciative that the tips of her nipples, stimulated by friction against fabric, protrude observably. She is lovely, and her glamorous toward Cal's embrace prompts him to emit a barely audible wolf-whistle which Leah catches. Flattered, she smiles at the compliment and they kiss.

Although they did not coordinate their outfits, they look like a pair as he has on a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, smartly creased suntans and black Tevas. He feels his cock stir as they move to the table; and, as they continue to be kissingly close, he reminds himself to calm down as the night is young. 

The evening goes beautifully. The four couples have a great time, beginning with the rum tasting. The Parrot Bay Rum representative is a member of the yacht club, and every year he holds this tasting on the 4th. The samples are small, but it's enough to get everyone in a party mood before the real drinking starts with the cookout. 

The men handle the grilling and charring the steaks, and the ladies chat and drink until the word comes that the meat is ready, their signal to prepare buffet servings for the grill masters and themselves.

The conversation is lively and enjoyable, but Leah and Cal have other more urgent concerns. He puts his hand on Leah's leg under the table; and as the meal progresses, he inches his way up under her skirt-- his fingers traveling lightly up her inner thigh to her very wet crotch. 

About half way through dinner, Leah excuses herself from the table to go to the ladies room. In a stall she wiggles out of her damp panties and, scrunching them up into a ball in her hand, heads back to the table. 

When she gets there, she leans over Cal's shoulder; and, pushing the panties into his pant's pocket, she whispers in his ear, "Will you hold onto these for me until later?" and sits down. 

The group at the table is now raucously bullshitting, as the dinner conversation has come around to favorite racing stories. And it's balls to the wall, as every saga of past glory begets a counter-tale. Everyone has an oar in on this, and the table is awash with laughter.

Puzzled about what Leah has shoved into his pocket, Cal reaches in. He fingers the lace, satin and the wet spot, but he is not certain of what he has until he pulls a corner of it out to look. Shoving them promptly back in, he can't believe what she has given him; and his cock, which had been behaving itself, immediately begins to harden to an uncontrollable boner.

Turning away from the fray of tale-telling, Leah speaks softly to Cal. "There's a full moon's rising. Want to go for a walk after we finish eating?" 

Cal, clearing his throat replies, "I think that would be a fine idea."

Leah, anticipating Cal's reaction to the panties, looks over and sees the huge bulge being made by his turgid cock straining at his fly and reaches over under the table to give it a squeeze. She announces to the happy group that she and Cal are going to take a little after- dinner walk in the moonlight and sweetly clears away both their places before they go. She strategically shields him as they rise and walk out, hoping that his hard-on would not be visible to all. 

When they get to the ramp that leads away from the clubhouse into the yard, Cal takes the lead and pulls Leah by the hand all the way across the lot to where he has parked his big new silver pickup truck with its full-size clubcab. Out of sight of the party-goers in the clubhouse on the far side of the truck, he whirls her around and presses his body up against hers against the body of the truck and they kiss frantically. 

He hauls up the back of her skirt and presses her bare ass against the cold metal of the truck. "Like the way that feels?" he asks.

She shudders slightly. "Mmmmm. It feels good on my hot ass," she sighs.

Continuing to kiss with deep, wet open-mouthed kisses, he gropes her tits as she fondles his cock and balls through his pants. Reaching up, Leah undoes the halter-top that ties behind her neck. The top drops and her naked breasts swing free. She holds them up in both hands saying, "Here, Cal, here. Suck these."

Lovely big pinkish-brown areolas surround beautiful dime-size nipples. He latches on to one meaty teat with his mouth and sucks hard. The other teat he rolls hard between his fingers and pulls out long. Leah moans as she runs her fingers through his hair, "Oh, yes, Cal. That's so good. You're being so good to my titties. God, I love it."

Finished playing with her tits for the moment, he takes Leah, topless with tits bobbing, around to the back end of the truck where he drops the tailgate. He pulls the back of her skirt up and hoists her up to sit her bare-ass, again on cold metal.

Cal, needing to free his hard cock, so uncomfortable in his pants, unzips his fly. Leah leans forward to see. Reaching down below the tailgate, she can't quite touch it, but her eyes get very wide.

"I knew it was a big one," she coos. "Are you going to put that big thing of yours inside me, Cal?" she asks anxiously.

"Lie down and spread 'em, Leah," he commands; and Leah, ass to cold metal and shaking with excitement, complies.

Leah is so wet that her pussy is dripping down her thighs. Cal breathes in the sweet perfume mix of her musk and the salt air. He knows from the scent that she will taste good.

"I see you shave your pussy," Cal remarks. "Never ate smooth snatch. I'm going to like this," he says desirously.

He pulls apart the lips that had begun to swell and open on their own and licks up the tasty juices. A man of experience, he easily locates her clit. He licks and sucks all around it. Leah puts her hands on his head. She tries to guide him to the exact spot, but he purposely avoids it. 

"Cal, you're driving me crazy. Your tongue is all around my clit. It's right in the middle of where you're licking," she says with frustration.

"I know where it is, Leah. It's right here," he says matter-of-factly and flicks her clit dead-on; and she bucks. "But you, you little cock-tease," he goes on, "putting your panties in my pocket at dinner and giving me a boner? This is payback."

Leah groans and begs Cal to get on her clit or fuck her so she can cum, but he refuses to let her up. Despite his now painfully erect cock, he really wants to tease her a bit longer. Finally, however, Cal must yield to her begging and moaning. He needs to penetrate the yearning cunt that he has fully explored with his tongue. He dares not wait longer.

He commands Leah to sit up. He lifts her off the tailgate and throws her over his shoulder like a sailbag. He goes around to the clubcab door, opens it and lays her down so that her ass is on the edge of the seat and her legs hang out the door. Standing on the cab step he pulls her skirt up, throwing it over her tits and face. 

"I can't see you," Leah complains.

"You don't need to see me, Leah. You're going to know when I put it in you. Trust me."

Cal drops his pants. He massages her tummy with both hands, grabs her hips and pushes her knees apart even wider, revealing her bare snatch that is so soft and white. He takes his fully engorged cock in one hand and runs its plum-like glans up and down her slit to add Leah's natural lubrication to his pre-cum. Placing it at the opening of her vagina, he begins to push it in. Leah is not a virgin, but this is only the third time she has ever had a cock in her. The last time was last fall with Wynn so she is still very tight and Cal is very big. 

Cal drives his hefty cock in slowly. He can feel her vagina expand as he steadily pushes in. In a hole as tight as hers, the stimulation of his peter is at the max. He knows that he will only be able to stroke her with his swell about a dozen times before an imperative is reached and his balls blow.

Leah can't believe how incredible this feels. He is not hurting her, but she is startled by the feeling as her cunt stretches with every inch of his dong as it pushes in. When he gets to her cervix, he pushes even harder and she groans. No man, yet, has been so deep nor felt like this.

Knowing he will cum fairly quickly, Cal uses his thumb on Leah's clit so that she will be ready to cum when he is ready. Leah's hips buck, and Cal starts his thrusting. Her cunt has stretched to accommodate his girth, but the pounding on her box is something else and it distracts her. 

Cal's thumb, however, is expert and, in no time, Leah is refocused and ready to climax. Four more strokes and Cal, grunting, unloads deep in Leah's cunt as she, squalling, convulses in orgasm shortly after.

Fully spent and breathing heavily, Cal rests. Holding Leah there, he enjoys the sensation as the last contracting spasms of her orgasm hug his waning hardness. He permits himself to retreat naturally. 

Finally, his cock is out and he wipes himself off with his handkerchief and tugs his trousers back up. Cal pulls Leah's skirt back down to cover her pussy. Still between her legs, he leans over her to gently caress her tits and touch her face. "Are you all right?" Cal asks softly.

"Ooooooo, yes. I'm all right," Leah says gently exhaling as her afterglow sets in.

"I didn't hurt you did I?" he asks her sincerely.

"Ooooooo, no. It was wonderful. Really!" she affirms.

He tenderly kisses her on the mouth and helps her sit up. "There are some paper towels in the console between the front seats," he adds, "to help you clean up. Let me get them... Here you go... Now let me help you tie up your top... Want your panties back?" 

"Guess I better. Thanks."

They stroll, arm-in-arm, back to the clubhouse where the dance is in full swing; and when Cal goes to get ice for their scotch and sodas, Wynn buttonholes Leah and waltzes her onto the dance floor.

"Enjoying yourself, Leah?" he asks with a slightly forced smile.

Her "I am," in reply, has a sassy edge to it.

Wynn, pulling her closer into him and looking directly into her eyes continues, "I can smell him on you. Did he make you feel like a woman tonight, Leah?"

"He did," she says softly looking away; and after a pause she asks looking back, "Are you jealous, Wynn?"

"A little," he answers honestly. "And does this mean we can't be together at our away regattas?"

"Not at this point, Wynn. I've made no commitments to Cal."

"Cal will want to make love to you when we're away at Keelsen Yacht Club's regatta in two weeks."

"I know, Wynn, but I've always bunked with you. I'll just tell him I need to get my rest for the race the next day, and he'll just have to get me back to the camper by 10. It'll work out. You'll see."



Coming About at Keelsen



It's Friday, the day before the Keelsen Yacht Club Regatta; and Wynn and Leah are readying the boat and the camper for the weekend. Their third crewmember, Harry, has to put in a full day at work; but he will meet them bright and early Saturday morning at Keelsen.

As it is a 4-hour drive to the lake, they expect to arrive around 2 o'clock to register, weigh-in and launch. The next day calls for a full day of racing followed by a lasagna dinner and dancing at the Club. The regatta will conclude Sunday afternoon after one last race, haul out and awards. 

As they load up, Leah notes that Wynn is trying to be all business and efficiency in a vain attempt to hide an unusual nervousness. She does not immediately guess how frantic Wynn has made himself with worry about whether she has changed her mind about being with him after being with Cal. 

The first away regatta of the season--Wynn had fantasized about this day all winter long. His recall of how beautifully Leah had ravished his cock the previous fall has led him to masturbate at least once if not twice a week. To Wynn it was the blow-job of a lifetime. It was she who had wanted his cock in her mouth and had relished his semen, telling him how good he tasted. Their sweet cuddling under the quilts against the cool fall night air he vividly recalled, along with how well in the first light she had taken his strong morning hard-on from the rear. He could still hear in his head the uninhibited sounds of her passion as their orgasms had been nearly simultaneous. 

As their four-hour drive begins, Wynn is so distracted by his thoughts that he is having a hard time thinking about his driving. He is glad that his shorts are baggy as his dick is hard from his teeming memories. He tries to focus on the traffic. And, as much as he dreads it, he knows he has to broach the subject of this weekend's activity beyond the racing events as Cal is definitely going to be in the mix. "That topic should wilt my Johnson," he thinks to himself.

They pick up coffee at the Dunkin's just before the exit to the highway. In fairly light traffic on the interstate, Wynn feigns casual conversation, saying, "So, Leah, you saw Cal Farnham last Friday?" 

"Yes, as I told you last week before the race, he took me to dinner and a movie, which were fun; and I spent the night with him," she said plainly, taking a sip of her ice coffee.

"Are you going to spend the night with him at this regatta?" Wynn asks seriously. He grits his teeth in dread of her possible answer. He does not want to be left out in the cold.

"I wasn't planning on it, Wynn. I was planning on spending Friday and Saturday nights with you. You haven't changed your mind about us, have you?" she asks with a slightly worried frown.

"No, not at all," he answers quickly, relieved that their plans were still on. "I was just checking. A lot of things can happen in a week or two. But Cal is going to want some time with you, isn't he?"

"Well," Leah exhales, swirling the ice around in her cup, "Cal tells me that he and the Goode's won't be pulling in until around 4 or 5 tonight. I told him that you usually take me out to eat the first night and that we turn in early so he shouldn't expect to play tonight at all."

"And what about tomorrow night?" Wynn asks, taking a slug of his coffee to brace himself, his grip tightening on the wheel.

"Tomorrow night, I promised to sit at dinner with him at the club. We always sit with Evan and his crew anyway," she says matter-of-factly. "So no sweat, man. We're cool," she says playfully punching him in the arm. "It's going to work out fine, Wynn."

But, as the highway winds on, Wynn's mind remains unsettled. He realizes part of his fascination with Leah is that he and wife are pushing 40 and that at the regatta last fall he was reawakened to the sexual hunger of a 23-year-old. He wants to enjoy his lucky, but limited, role as her occasional lover. As it is now a fact that she is fucking Cal Farnham and enjoying it, he thinks, "I just damn well better get used to the idea of sharing, that's all."

Arriving at Keelson around 2, they register, weigh-in, launch and assume one of the moorings provided for guest racers, which process takes all of about an hour and a half. Satisfied that they are ready, they pause to appreciate the favorable weather and the natural setting for the competition. The yacht club is situated on a beautiful lake surrounded by pines. They enjoy the scent of sun-warmed evergreen and pine duff during a brief lakeside saunter. 

Upon their return to the camper, Wynn opens the door for Leah and follows her up the steps. When he turns back from closing the door, Leah throws her arms around him and begins kissing him passionately. "I have been waiting for this since last fall," Leah whispers excitedly between kisses.

"So have I, Leah. So have I," he whispers in reply.

He helps her off with her tee shirt and pauses. Bringing a hand to each side of her bra-clad breasts, he nestles his face in her cleavage and inhales her scent. 

"So lovely," he sighs. Then he removes her bra, and the big round tits with beautiful areolas and meaty nipples come into view. "So lovely," he says again, groping her soft, lush flesh. 

"Suck them," Leah begs; and Wynn obliges, slavering the huge orbs with his tongue before lashing her taut nipples and sucking them to a new length. His hungry munching borders on roughness, but Leah loves it. "O yes!" she moans, "You're making my cunt tingle." 

Slipping from his grasp, she slides gently down to her knees. She undoes his belt, button and fly and strips off his shorts. "This is what I want," Leah breathes and, grabbing his growing cock with her hand, she begins to stroke it. "It's beautiful," she says, taking it into her mouth. 

"Oh, my God," Wynn sighs.

She plunges down his shaft to his balls. She works his swollen cock with tight lips. She feathers under the rim, then the length of his dong, and returns to find the hole in his tip and drills in with her tongue. 

Wynn strips off his own shirt so he has a clear view of her as she pleasures his cock. Leah licks his scrotum and pops one ball and then another into her mouth lovingly. Then she grabs his glutes with both hands and commences a strong massage. When she slips one finger up his ass, he wants to explode.

Sensing his urgency, she goes back to his cock, gobbling up his glans just in time to suck down his jizz. He grabs for the door behind him as his knees weaken with the intensity of his ejaculation. Sucking and sucking and sucking, she drinks it all until his balls are dry. As his erection fades, Leah gently licks him clean. 

Regaining himself, Wynn takes her face in his hands, looks into her eyes and gently says, "Thank you, sweet. How wonderful you are!"

"I wanted to taste you again, Wynn. I wanted you to feed me your beautiful cock again--just like last fall," she says dreamily. "Let's finish undressing and nap together before dinner."

In the nude they make up the bunk in the camper top that is over the truck cab. Wynn cannot believe that his cock is reviving so soon after blowing his load so completely but minutes ago. He reasons that being naked with this beautiful young woman in such close proximity with the smell of her sex wafting through the bunk space must be what's doing it--that and the way she moves. Leah loves displaying herself, and having sucked him off makes her wet and intensely horny. She moves with uninhibited grace that is purely erotic.

Bed made, they crawl in under the covers and hug face-to-face with Wynn's stiffening cock warmly between them as it presses on her belly. The first to speak, he says, "Thank you, Leah." 

"What... for helping make the bed?"

"No, for taking me with your mouth. You make me feel so potent -- so alive. Thank you. But now, it's my turn to get you off."

"You don't have to, Wynn. Since last fall I have wanted to suck you and have you cum -- my wish come true. And you had so much for me this afternoon! I'm fine, really." 

"But I'm not fine, Leah. I want you to cum. I want to watch you when you do. It's not just fair -– it would be my wish to come true too." And with that he rolls her onto her back and pins her down by partially lying on top of her. Reaching between her legs, he finds her swollen bud easily; and Leah mewls and squirms as he strums her clit. 

She tries to push Wynn off, but she cannot. Her legs spread wider and wider with the stimulation as he drives her to on to her orgasm. Wynn loves watching her face and feeling her body strain and buck in lust. Finally, her hips push up hard and she cums.

"Now, it's nap time," Wynn asserts.

"Hoo... Wow... Yes," agrees Leah breathlessly. "Uncle!" she says, slapping the mattress twice. 

Laughing, Wynn rolls off. "I wasn't too heavy on you, was I?" he asks.

"No. It was really kind of fun being unable to get away from you as you ravished me. Promise you'll pin me down and ravish me again later!" she exhorts, enthusiasm glowing in her eyes.

"It's a deal; but now," he says, smiling broadly and pausing to sweetly kiss her, "let's take a nap. Then we'll go to dinner."

Although it is the end of July, the weather is cool in this mountain lake region. The two curl up under the covers and, nestled together like a pair of spoons, Leah notices that the bedding smells of mothballs and Wynn. She loves the feel of Wynn's flesh pressed against her backside with his semi-hard cock resting along the crack of her ass. She feels secure in his embrace as he drapes his top arm over her to pull her close to caress and fondle her tits. 

Her willingness to be completely nude with him thrills and amazes him. His wife Barbara always insists on being partially covered when they make love, and she has never taken his cock in her mouth. He nuzzles Leah's neck, grateful for her generous love and their new togetherness. And after the exchange of a few tender kisses, they drift lightly off to sleep.

When they wake from their nap, Leah rolls out of the nest first. Wynn, resting on one elbow, admires the curve of her waist and womanly roundness of her hips and ass as she heads for the WC. Feeling his groin stir, he looks under the covers and tells his stiffening cock (as if it would have any effect) to 'knock it off'! 

When Leah comes out, Wynn rolls out of the rack. She smiles at him. She admires the 38-year-old former marine's fitness. Though not as big as Cal, Wynn is by no means small. Wynn is fair-skinned, but his cock and scrotum are very dark creating a contrast that accentuates his handsome swag. "Mmmm, that's all mine this weekend," she hums to herself.

Picking up his clothes on his way, he takes his turn cleaning up. Leah fishes her robin's egg blue dress out of her bag and slips it on. The color of the simple shift is perfect with her reddish-brown hair; and when Wynn reappears dressed, having added a tie and sport jacket, his mouth drops open.

"Do you have on any underwear under that?" he asks.

"No. I thought you'd like it this way," she smiles.

"I do like it," he says, nodding, "but I think I like it too much to make it through dinner, if you know what I mean."

Flattered, she rolls the r, "Rrreally?" 

"Yes, rrreally," he mimics. He sees that she looks a bit put out; so he quickly adds, "It's not bad, it's just that being braless in a really nice restaurant might be a little too--how should I say it -- informal."

"Too informal," Leah repeats. She keeps to herself the resounding, "Horse SHIT!" she is thinking. Instead, she shrugs in acquiescence saying, "Okay," and turns to unpack her bra and panties. Whipping off the little dress, she is instantly naked again. Wynn shakes his head, smiling, and tells her he'll wait for her in the cab while he has a smoke. 

When Leah joins him in the cab, she has not only added underwear and pantyhose, but also a lovely silver necklace, matching earrings and a beautiful tortoise shell comb in her hair. "What a lovely transformation, Leah. You look great!" he says taking one last puff before setting his pipe in the ashtray. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I just didn't know what you had in mind. Where are we going?" 

Wynn had researched area restaurants on the net last week and found what he thought sounded like charming place on the shore about a quarter of the way around the lake from the club. It offered gourmet fare, specializing in locally procured delicacies like lake trout, fiddleheads, wild rabbit and venison. He had called ahead on his cell phone to make their reservation. Complete with valet parking, Place in the Pines was advertised as a wonderful dining experience. And indeed, its romantic ambiance, candlelight, soft music and good wine serves to complement their elegant two-hour meal.

Arriving back at the club around 9 o'clock, they see Evan Goode's camper in the lot, which means Cal is there somewhere. Wynn parks their camper as far away from them as he can. 

"Let's go up to the clubhouse and scope out the competition," Leah suggests enthusiastically.

But, "Let's not," is Wynn's flat reply.

"But we always do. Why not?" she asks surprised. She knows Wynn loves to schmooze with the other skippers the night before they race.

"Well, I was looking forward to us," he says softly.

It occurs to her almost instantly that the real reason Wynn might not want to do one of his favorite things is because Cal might be up there and that Wynn would really rather avoid him. "Okay, we'll stay here," she says sweetly.

As Leah gets out of the camper cab, she hears a voice softly call her name. Turning in the direction of the sound, she comes face-to-face with Cal, who grabs her around the waist and kisses her hard. 

"Avast, you pirate. Unhand my crew!" Wynn demands with mock gallantry and a fake gruffness. Smiling, he comes up behind Leah from around the front of the truck. 

"Hey, Wynn. Mind if I steal your crew for an hour or two?" Cal asks, offering Wynn his hand to shake in fellowship.

"How are you, Cal?" Wynn says, meeting the handshake. "We were just talking about going up to the clubhouse to talk trash to the competition. Come up with us," Wynn offers, hiding his complete insincerity.

Cal is reluctant. His arms still around Leah's waist, "I don't know," he says. "You're both going up?" 

"You know," Leah interjects, "I just had a great meal, and it's been a really long day for me. I'm awfully tired. Why don't you two fellas go bullshit with the other crews? What I really want to do is hit the hay." 

"I was looking forward to spending a little time with you tonight, Leah. Come up with us," Cal implores, hoping, and kisses her again. Leah fakes a yawn. "I'm really bushed, Cal. Why don't you go with Wynn and I'll see you tomorrow night at dinner," she says, tiredly yawning again. 

"Come on Cal," Wynn presses. "Let her go. She needs her beauty rest. She'll be a beast tomorrow if she doesn't get enough sleep. Trust me. I know!" 

"Daddy's right, you know," she says with a wink at Cal. "I'm a beast on too little sleep." 

She kisses Cal firmly on the mouth and whispers something in his ear that Wynn cannot pick up. Cal lets her go; and, as Leah heads for the camper, the boys head for the clubhouse.

About an hour later Wynn returns to the camper. The glow from the one light that Leah has left on is cozy and inviting. "Daddy's home," she sings facetiously from the bunk.

"Smart ass! I'll show you daddy," Wynn smiles, stripping as fast as he can and throwing his clothes in the corner.

"Mmmm, I hope so!" Leah smiles seductively, pulling back the covers to let him in. "I've been waiting for you." What she does not tell him is that for the past hour she has been pleasuring herself. Diddling her clit while thinking about the wonderful fuckings she has received from both Wynn and Cal, she has kept herself at a delightful level of arousal and is more than glad that Wynn has finally returned.

He climbs in and draws Leah's body, so soft and so warm, close to him. He feels her nipples on his chest and they kiss. His cock that had been on standby all night can now fully express itself, and they feel it grow between them. Leah, for all her self-assured talk, is still young and inexperienced to the extent that she shakes with excitement and anticipation when he explores her body with his hands. When Wynn reaches between her legs, he is struck by how wet she is.

He is going to take her missionary style. Rolling over top, he pushes her legs wide apart with his knees and holds her by her wrists over her head. Her labia open, his cock is so rigid that he is able to penetrate her without any assistance of hands. Leah gasps when he enters her. She is so tight and so wet. 

Wynn works slowly at first, savoring every stroke, wanting it to be the best not just for himself, but for Leah. At the bottom of his thrusts he grinds into her bare pubis. Leah moans in response, pushes her hips up against him and rotates her abdomen like a belly dancer -- an action which stimulates her clit even more and massages Wynn's cock deep in her channel.

His thrusting becomes more and more intense while at the same time he knows that he must restrain himself. He studies Leah's face and listens to her, hoping for her signal. Her eyes closed, she seems to be in a world of her own. He encourages her urgently. "That's it, Leah. Just right. Just let go. You're safe with me and so beautiful." She is entranced. Moving and moaning, now on fire with passion, she undulates to the rhythm of his fucking.

When Leah finally climaxes, she arches, crying out, and comes hard in a sustained orgasm. Wynn is right behind her, emptying his all deep in her vagina. With chests heaving from their exertion, Wynn falls off to the side; and, as they rest, tears leak from Leah's eyes. 

"My God, Leah, what's the matter?" Wynn asks, afraid he has somehow hurt her. 

"I don't know. My orgasm was so intense; and then there was this big release; and I just started crying."

"Are you all right?" he asks, still worried.

"I think I'm fine. I just never had such an intense experience. I think I need you to hold me," she says uncertainly, puzzled by her own reaction.

Wynn folds her into his chest and lovingly strokes her hair. He can feel her tears on his own cheeks, but they soon subside as she begins to relax. "You are okay, Leah?" he asks again.

Leah exhales with a big sigh. "I'm fine Wynn. In fact, I think I'm better than fine. I never have cum so strongly, and afterwards there was such a rush of feeling! I just became overwhelmed. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. This never happened to me before. So... really. I loved the way you made me cum. It was fantastic." 

Cuddling Leah even more closely, he kisses her on the forehead. He is soaring inside; and, continuing to comfort her, he tells her, "Leah, no woman has ever made me feel so much like a man as you have. And I want you to know how I appreciate that you kept your promise of spending tonight with me. Also your pretending you needed to sleep meant a lot to me.

"On the other hand, I do confess, my darling, that your dating Cal seems so right to me; and I'm happy about it. In fact, when I smelled him on you at the 4th of July dance ... the thought that you had just fucked him... well, it really turned me on!" 

Slightly askance, "It did? So, darling, you're saying you like my getting it on with Cal? How come?"

"I know it's hard to believe; but, yes, it excited me. I didn't realize why immediately, but I know now it's because I love you on several levels -- married man with family that I am! First of all, I am the luckiest man on earth that you are my loyal fuck buddy and are so good at it; and second, and you're going to hate this, but I love you as a father and a protector. Leah, you are young and beautiful. You deserve experience with young bachelors, and it's important to me that you have good sex on your journey in life."