****** Wife Number Two by Whale ******
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Wife Number Two


The day began, as so many June days on Chesapeake Bay begin...a clear night of
60 degrees gave way to a clear, comfortable morning. I awoke as the first rays
of the sun broke over the eastern shore and began to burn the thin fog away.
I've always been an early riser, due partly to having been raised in a rural
setting where the chores started early and partly due to the commute from the
Baltimore harbor, where we lived on our boat, to Washington, DC where I worked.

Our "Harbor Home" was a 45 foot cat-rigged ketch that I had designed myself and
commissioned through a boat builder of many generations. The two main themes to
my design were fast and easy to sail and spacious comfort. She was both. By
being lighter by half than most other boats her size, she was fast and with
free standing spars for her main and mizzen meant no stays or shrouds and only
two sheets to tend to allowing one person to easily sail her. Spacious comfort
came from not designing a boat that could sleep 20. She had a galley, head,
main saloon and one stateroom and no other cabins.

While Leslie continued to slumber (never one to waste sleep) I prepared and
drank my daily three cups of coffee. I deferred my usual morning
"constitutional" with the idea that I'd rather be under way.

The anchorage we had chosen was about a half mile long and 200 yards across.
Because it was the middle of the week, only one other boat had joined us for
the previous night. It was anchored about a quarter of a mile away and, because
of the light fog, was visible as nothing more than a ghost ship. We preferred
sailing in the buff, so after finishing the last of my coffee, I set about
getting us underway in my preferred attire of nothing. I started the diesel and
let it idle to warmth as I went to the bow to raise the anchor. With the anchor
rode stowed and the plow lashed to the bowsprit, I set the transmission to
forward and brought the speed to a leisurely 3-4 knots.

As I steered her clear of the land guarding the inlet to the cove and toward
the big waters of the Bay, I noticed that my bodily functions were beginning to
take more of my attention. It wouldn't be much longer before the coffee worked
through my system and made its presents noticed.

About this time Leslie sleepily stumbled to the companionway. She raised a hand
to shade her eyes and stared into the morning. She looked as if she were
saluting a new day.

"Mornin'," she said over the gentle throbbing of the diesel.

I returned the greeting and motioned that it was clear for her to emerge from
the cabin in her undressed condition. If the truth be told, neither of us
really gave a crap if anyone saw us. The Bay is an enormous body of water and
being seen by a total stranger wasn't likely and even less likely by someone
known to us.

Besides, there wasn't much to see. If you're expecting a tale of Steele
Armstrong and his bosomy partner, Tits O'Plenty, then stop here and please
accept my apology for taking up your time. We were average at best; I had a bit
of a paunch that is carried by most 40ish men and a dick that will just make
six inches, but is thicker than most, while Leslie had the body of a woman that
has borne a child. Though I must say she had kept it better than most. She was
a little shorter than average, so her smallish tits were just about perfect for
her height and gravity hadn't found them, yet, either. Her belly was flat, if
not as firm as it was 25 years ago, and curved down to the slight bulge of her
hairless pussy. Her best feature, though, was probably her firm ass. Where most
have sagged at her age, Leslie's was pert, dimpled and TIGHT.

She smiled from the companionway as she made her way up the steep steps. She
walked to the stern railing near where I was sitting on the helmsman's seat. As
mentioned, there is a head on the yacht, but when we were not at the dock, we
usually would just "go" over the side. She stepped over the stern railing and,
while holding onto the railing, squatted her ass out over the water streaming
from under the transom. She hung there, suspended over the Bay for a moment and
then a slight stream of yellow pee began to leak from between her pussy lips.
The stream started jerkily at first and then built to a steady, steaming stream
of piss striking the transom near the water line before splashing and running
into the water below.

"You really needed to go this morning!" I said.

She replied, "That's what I get for having that second beer just before we
turned in last night."

As her flow of piss subsided she strained twice to make two more hard squirts
against the transom. As she continued to hang there, the last drops of her pee
vanishing in the receding water below, I noticed her sphincter begin to bulge
outward. She had not ceased her straining from the last squirt of piss. Her
eyes were squinted shut and the concentration was no longer on her bladder. As
I watched, the bulging rosette of her asshole began to open exposing the
beginning of her shit. I could see the small lumps making up the "head" of her
load as it fought the tightness of her rectum. Once the hard, blunt tip of her
log made its way through the stretched hole in her butt, the last six inches
seemed to slide out fairly easily and drop to the water below. Though the
breeze made by our way was disappearing behind us, the transom caused swirls of
air and I was treated to small whiffs of her dung. I looked from the water
where her turd had just disappeared with a small splash, to her still stretched
asshole and the clog of shit still in it. Just then she inhaled and strained
once again and another turd, softer and slightly shorter shot out into the
swirling water. I watch as she strained twice more, her rectum flexing outward,
but there was nothing left, but two short farts.

She pulled herself back over the railing, her breathing a little faster for her
ordeal.

"Would you like to do the honors?" she asked.

I nodded and smiled my acceptance. I glanced over the bow and saw that we were
on course for the marker and pressed the button for the autopilot to hold the
current heading. With this, Leslie knelt on the port lazaret seat, her legs
spread and her ass offered to the sky. The waste from her butthole had smeared
on each ass cheek caused by her struggle over the stern railing. I knelt on the
teak floor grating behind her and examined my task, inhaling the heady aroma of
her excrement. A couple of small pieces of her shit had dropped into her cunt
lips and were clinging to the droplets of urine still soaking her pussy. This
look like as good a place to start as any.

I leaned forward and snaked my tongue through her cunt lips and lapped the
salty leavings from her shaved offering. Leslie squealed and shuddered as she
felt my flicking tongue gathering the piss from the petals of her pussy. I
managed to get one of the brown morsels in my mouth, but the other fell to the
seat below. I went down to the seat and picked it up on the tip of my tongue
and swallowed them both. When I returned to the dining area I noticed that her
pussy was well cleaned except for the cunt juices that were beginning to flow
from her cunny hole. I moved my concentration to the more soiled area above her
bald twat. I began by cleaning the brown stains from her ass cheeks with my
tongue. With each flick of my tongue she would quiver and catch her breath. The
closer I worked to her brown hole the faster her breathing and the more juicy
and swollen her cunt became. When I finally finished her ass cheeks and crack,
I tongue-tickled her crusty rosette. She sighed and her pucker opened like a
flower blossom. With one, single thrust I drove my tongue as deep as possible
into her hot, tight nether cavity. Leslie squealed and then moaned deeply. I
kept eating her asshole and tongue fucking her frantically.

Now, there are a few women out there that are ultra sensitive where the anus is
concerned and Leslie is one of them. After only a few minutes of butt-munching
she came violently, farting in my mouth, her sphincter gripping my invading
tongue until I could barely free it. She collapsed on the seat panting like a
dog. That's when I noticed the small puddle of pussy cum on the seat, which I
slurped up. (Keeping a tidy ship shouldn't be unpleasant.)

I left her recuperating on the seat and returned to the helm. I noticed that it
was time to make a course correction. I set us on another leg and engaged the
autopilot. As I straightened up, I explained that I hadn't had a chance to
relieve myself from my own bodily fluids. She smiled wickedly and scurried to
assume a subservient position between me and the wheel. She looked up and
opened her mouth to become my personal urinal. I took my dick to hand and aimed
at her mouth. I felt that I was going to burst. The stream shot out and struck
her on the chin spraying my piss all over her face before I could direct the
strong stream into her mouth. My morning urine is very yellow and strong in
flavor and odor, but Leslie really enjoyed it. As my piss overflowed her mouth,
she followed the stream up to my cock and clamped her lips around it causing
her cheeks to balloon out. When her mouth could hold no more she let it bubble
out and down her tits, tummy, pussy and then puddle around her legs. The sudden
warmth and then cooling of my pee on her nipples caused them to come to
attention and looked like pencil erasers. When my bladder was finally emptied
into her mouth, she swallowed the last mouthful while licking her smiling lips.

"That was exciting and delicious, but I'm hungry for some solid food," she
said.

I announced, "Will the passengers please step to the rear of the ship where
breakfast is being served on the poop deck!"

She needed no other urging.

Still kneeling, she crawled through my piss to position herself behind me. When
I felt her hands begin to spread my ass cheeks, I leaned forward on the wheel
to give her more access to her "dining area". I felt her probing tongue against
my puckered asshole and I let the muscles holding my shit in check relax. As my
pucker opened, exposing the brown treat, she quickly slid her tongue between my
shit and the sensitive lower section of my rectum. Once she had her tongue in
as far as possible, she curled it like a spoon and scooped out a large turd
which she chewed and swallowed. Without waiting a moment she returned for
another mouthful as I slid the excrement from my bowels. Sometimes Leslie would
dig it out with her tongue and at other times she would find my waste
protruding from my asshole and would just bite off a piece like it was a candy
bar. I once asked her why she liked eating shit out of my bunghole and she
replied that she may have acquired a taste for it as a toddler when she used to
eat out of the cat's litter box, as well as an occasional turd from her own
diapers. She kept up her shit-eating frenzy until I had emptied my bowels into
her hungry mouth. I could tell she was finished when I felt her licking my
asshole clean of the last crumbs.

After feeding Leslie my load she went back to the port seat and I checked and
refined the course the autopilot was keeping. When I returned my gaze to
Leslie, she was furiously frigging her clit with one hand and stuffing three
fingers of the other hand up her butthole. The thing I learned early on about
my second wife is that she rarely had a vaginal climax, but more than made up
for it in her clit and asshole orgasms. As you might imagine, it wasn't long
before she was cumming long and hard. She was always the queen of the multiple
orgasm and wouldn't stop until her arms gave out. Often she would switch her
asshole and pussy hands, pausing only long enough to lick the product of each
orifice from her fingers. Another thing I learned about Leslie is that her cum
was not only copious, but very thick.

After she was spent and couldn't manage one more orgasm, she reclined against
the bulkhead panting, her cum slathered around her swollen cunt hole. I
couldn't help but applaud this wonderful sex show I had just seen. I rank
watching Leslie masturbate second only to watching her have sex with another
woman. For special occasions she would bring a "friend" home she picked up at a
lesbian bar. Her only rule was that I could only watch. She was the jealous
type and didn't want me with another woman...even if Leslie was there in the
thick of it.

After Leslie had recovered sufficiently, she stood and began rubbing and
massaging her tits. When she pinched her nipples hard enough, I could actually
see her hairless pussy lips swell and throb. She then raked her fingers through
her cunt and licked her thick cream from her fingers. After she cleaned all of
her cum from her fingers, she turned, bent at the waist and exposed her ass to
me. She then reached behind her and raked more thick cunt cream up her ass
crack to her asshole. She inserted one cum laden finger deep in her butt to
lubricate her rectum. This could mean only one thing; I was being invited the
fuck my most favorite orifice.

She moved once again between me and the wheel and bent over to offer me her
puckered butthole. Only this time it wasn't my hungry tongue that was going to
be stuffed in her ass. She bent forward over the wheel, reached back and spread
her ass cheeks with her hands.

"Pack my fudge!" she hissed.

Needing no other invitation, I first greased the head of my prick in the thick
cum that was dripping from her swollen slit and then drove into her cunt to
slick the shaft of my dick.

She moaned heavily and pleaded, "PLEASE! I need your cock in my ASS!"

I slowly withdrew my slimy spear from her gash. I pressed my cockhead, swollen
from watching the "show", to her rosebud and leaned against her. Leslie press
back and, with the help of the slick cunt juice she had fingered up her butt, I
was able to force my thickening cock into her bowels.

As I began pumping my meat into her ass, I became increasingly aware of all
three cups of this mornings coffee pressing on my bladder. Leslie rapidly
climaxed on my imbedded cock and collapsed over the wheel. I explained my
dilemma and told her to brace herself. Using all my control and effort, I
emptied my bladder deep in Leslie's bowels. I felt her tight intestines balloon
away from my prick as my piss filled her. She moaned deeply as she felt my hot
piss fill her guts. She begged me not to cum in her butt.

"I need to shit your piss out of my ass, but I want to lick your cock clean and
have you cum in my mouth."

Slowly I pulled my brown stained cock from her asshole so that my piss wouldn't
shoot out. Only a small trickle ran down the crack of her ass, but I could tell
by the expression on Leslie's face that she was "under the strain"!

She carefully climbed over the stern rail for a second time and assumed the
position. A small trail of the brownish fluid had made its way down the back of
each thigh. As soon as she had her ass pointed astern, she let it rip. The
stream of my, now brown, piss shot out of her ass ten feet behind the boat for
nearly thirty seconds. Leslie strained a couple of more times to squirt the
last turds from her bowels. Still holding tightly to the rail with her right
hand she reached behind her with the left to wipe the piss and shit from under
her and then licked her hand clean. Five such cleansing maneuvers was all that
was necessary to clean her thighs, butt and pussy.

After she clambered back over the railing she knelt once again in the filthy
wash on the deck. She pressed two fingers into her sopping cunt. When she
removed her fingers, she reached between my spread legs and jammed them up my
ass. I jumped at first, but then pressed against her fingers to get them as far
up my ass as possible. As she was finger-fucking me in the ass with one hand,
she lifted my cock with the other to get to my swinging balls. She took one of
my nuts in her mouth and rolled it around with her tongue, driving me crazy.
When she swallowed the other ball, I thought I'd loose my mind. She sucked my
nuts and fingered my butthole for several minutes before releasing my balls
with a slurping noise.

Finally, at long last, she began sucking my cock head. Slowly, little by
little, she cleaned the dried shit and piss from my throbbing cock with her
swirling tongue as she worked her way toward the hairy base of my dick. Leslie
didn't deep-throat very often, but this was one of those special occasions when
she was feeling generous. I felt her mouth creeping up my cock shaft until the
head met the back of her throat. With a little push I felt my prick slip past
and into her throat. MY GOD! WHAT A FEELING! I held the back of her head while
I face fucked her.

I'd love to tell you that Leslie throat-fucked me for 20 minutes, but between
her fingers in my ass and her blow-job and all else that had gone on that
morning, one minute later I lost my biggest load ever down her throat. I almost
passed out!

As I began softening in her mouth she let my prick once again swing free,
accept for the thin string of cum connecting cock to mouth. She removed her
fingers from my butt and sucked the remains of her spunk and my ass candy from
them as I collapsed once again onto the helmsman's seat.

Later that day I lashed her to the mizzen mast near amidship with her tits
faced toward the bow. I bound her so that her tits jutted out and she couldn't
slide to a sitting position. She loved the helpless feeling she got from being
exposed naked to the world. I then ran the main sheet between her bald cunt
lips and up the crack of her ass. As the sail filled and slackened in the
gentle breeze, the rough sheet slid across her exposed clit and puckered anus.
She soon had the sheet soaked with her oozing cum. From the helmsman's seat I
could hear her moans, whimpers and cries as she came over and over again for
the next hour. Being in a generous mood, I released her an hour after her legs
buckled and she had passed out. The sheet was encrusted with her cunt juices
and her twat and ass crack were rubbed raw, but that's the way she liked it.

It's been several years since that June morning and all the days like it. I'm
on wife number three and trying to teach her how to enjoy sex the same way.
"Sex is best when it's dirty!". I left Leslie (not her real name) in the
Chesapeake area. To those guys and gals that have enjoyed Leslie's
charms...Salut! To those that haven't...keep lookin' or keep loosin'!

Whale

(The only creature in existence with a six foot tongue that can breathe through
the top of its head.)

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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