Tyler
I undid the buttons of my shirt and lay down on the enormous bed, without taking it off, looking up at the finely carved wooden ceiling. It amazed me how much craftsmanship they put into building these incredibly expensive toys. This particular boat was a special order that Hobbs & Son had built less than a decade ago, and then refitted, over ten months, just last year.
It was actually bigger than the yacht I owned but, as I hadn’t seen The Troubadour since we took a family vacation on it when I was thirteen, I could barely even picture it. That vacation wasn’t exactly on my list of top ten memories, either. I was already on my way into that fucked up, hormone induced state of hating the world that every kid goes through, even before my father began shouting and my mom started crying. For five whole days.
Henry informed me that my boat was still in regular use, hence it's being in drydock for maintenance, and it’s at least paying for its upkeep by being rented out to a wealthy clientele, much like Aphrodite. I idly wondered how much I was charging other rich kids to party their money away at sea.
Ada was in the bathroom. The ocean was gently rocking me, and I’d almost managed to name the tune that was being hammered out by D Cash and his two girlfriend’s rhythmic bangs, grunts, and moans in the cabin to the stern of me. But I couldn’t get her face out of my head. The way the sun danced through her golden hair; the way her big blue eyes seemed to smile at me; the way she softly chewed her bottom lip as she listened to other people talk. For some reason, I found her intoxicating.
“What are you thinking about?” I heard Ada ask from the doorway of the en-suite. I sat up on my elbows and looked over at her. She wore a long, sheer beach wrap, open at the front to reveal a tiny black bikini. Her body was amazing and, for a second, all thought of Misty were banished from my mind. I felt that distinct tingling sensation in my dick as my eyes travelled up her shapely legs, over the pathetic scrap of cloth only just hid her sex from the world, across her flat yet supple stomach, lingered on her full, rounded breasts, also just hidden by a narrow strip of material that barely covered her nipples, up to her fierce, striking, and beautiful, face.
“Just you, babe,” I lied again. She smiled and dropped the wrap to the floor. She stood for a second, allowing me to run my eyes over her nearly naked body, then slowly paced toward me. Each movement was smooth and drawn out as she climbed up and crawled along the bed and into my lap, never breaking eye contact with me. She straddled me and pulled my mouth up to meet hers. I could feel the heat of her soft, barely covered pussy as it pushed firmly against my hardening cock. I squeezed my hands under her butt and found that the back of her bikini briefs covered even less than the front. Ada broke off her kiss with a deep gasp as she sexily forced her intimate parts against mine.
“I’ve been waiting for this for too long,” she whispered breathlessly in my ear, holding my head in her small hands. From the other room, we heard the ecstatic cries of D Cash’s girlfriend, Britney, reach some sort of a crescendo before everything went quiet. I looked up at Ada smiling down at me, when sudden, urgent, and loud groans from Ruby, D Cash’s other playmate, rang out across the yacht with a renewed vigor. “Mm-mm,” Ada moaned as she tickled her soft lips lightly along my neck, sending shivers down my arm, “don’t you wish you could be in there? Aren’t they turning you on?” She spoke softly, kissing and biting her way along my ear, toward my jawline. For a second then, despite the tiny electric flicks of pleasure Ada’s touches were sending off along my skin, all I could picture was D Cash’s big black ass bouncing up and down in front of me. It was not an erotic vision.
“Honestly, no,” I smiled, taking in a sharp breath as she ran her tongue along the sinews that led to my shoulder. “But I think I know what you’re getting at.” She smiled and kissed me again, her tongue urgently exploring the inside of my mouth. She pushed the shirt off my shoulders then, in what seemed to be a fluid and practiced move, she reached down and opened my zipper. She started to slide her hand inside my pants. I closed my eyes and felt her delicate fingers expertly find their way past my underwear, over the tip, to finally encircle my firm and slowly throbbing shaft. I couldn’t help the low moan that escaped my mouth as she touched me, gliding her gentle hand up and down my cock as she softly kissed her way down my neck again. She moved her lips suddenly back to my ear.
“I’m dying to feel your cock in my mouth,” I saw Misty whisper to me, her sun-kissed hair and shining smile as beautiful as ever.
What the fuck…? I shook my head hard and opened my eyes to see Ada gazing down at me. Before I could think, I grabbed her wrist and held her hand still. A concerned look appeared on her face, like I was depriving her of an inalienable right.
“Are you okay, Tyler?” she asked. I’d made her feel like I didn’t want her hand on my dick. It was probably the first time she felt insecure in her life.
The fuck is wrong with me, I thought, she wants me right now, she’s practically begging to blow me, and all I can think of is that fucking stewardess?
I needed to think. Aroused as I was, I was uncomfortable with her sitting on me. I gave her a quick kiss and slowly pulled her hand out from my pants. “I’m fine, babe, I promise. I’m just... it’s just... I wanted our first time to be perfect. You know, champagne,” Ada’s shocked and slightly angry expression began to soften into a smile again, “rose petals, massage oils, that sort of thing, not screwing quickly to the soundtrack of D Cash constantly banging his ho’s.”
“That’s sweet,” Ada replied, before putting her mouth to my ear again and whispering gently, “it just makes me want to do even more naughty things with you than ever before.”
“Awesome,” I stammered, scrambling out from under her. “I’ll get changed. We can spend the afternoon drinking and laying in the sun, kissing, and building the tension until tonight.”
“Will you rub oil on me?” she asked, doing that vulnerable little girl act.
“Of course.”
She grabbed hold of my still hard cock again, through my slacks. I gasped as she roughly pulled me a little closer. “I think it feels like we’ve built up enough tension, personally. But I like your thinking.” She let me go, rolled off the bed, picked up her shades, and swept out of the room in another practiced and fluid movement.
I collapsed back on the bed, horny, scared, frustrated, and relieved, all at once. She was so hot, was clearly going to be an animal in the sack, I was physically capable, but I couldn’t go through with it. A vision of Misty filled my head once more. The fuck am I doing...?
* * *
The captain had dropped anchor far out to sea. I came up on deck to see no land, no nothing in sight. We were definitely in international waters. The sun beat down on the yacht as we had lunch on the top deck. It was wide, floored with immaculate wooden slats, and featured a dozen or so sun loungers, four tables with huge parasols shading them, a long banquet table that we ate around, and a huge hot tub at the back, next to the outside stairs.
Misty was working, serving salmon mousse and lobster tails with a quinoa, mango, and truffle oil salad, while Sarah, the red-headed chief stew, kept us topped up with white wine and champagne for the ladies, plus beer, bourbon, and scotch for the gentlemen. I gathered that Tanya, the other steward about Misty’s age, was taking her lunch break in the galley right then, so she would be able to look after us later when the other stewards were off duty.
Misty was polite, courteous, and very professional. She laughed and joked as she worked, flattering the other guests with a practiced ease while still remaining detached. I just wanted her to engage with me a little. I wanted to find something I didn’t like about her so, maybe, I might be able to stop obsessing and screw my girlfriend. She gave me nothing, though. Her manner toward me was still perfect, her smile was still perfect. She was perfect. I’d never believed in love at first sight. Still don’t. But I wanted this girl, and I couldn’t explain why.
Over lunch, to keep the conversation going, I tried to learn a little about the ladies my friends had brought along. D Cash and his girls sat together. Britney, the thin blonde, turned out to be from Santa Monica, and the voluptuous, African-American Ruby, was from Long Beach. The two girls never sat together, I noticed. They always kept D Cash between them. I found myself wondering if they had sex that way too, then stopped as D Cash’s big butt came back into my mind.
I was next to Britney, with Ada beside me who, unlike D Cash’s girls, had felt it decent to throw her wrap back on to cover her skimpy bikini for the meal. Britney’s sky-blue bikini top and thong were tiny but, although she was well-formed, her slim figure almost disappeared next to Ruby’s outrageously fantastic, porn-star build. Her purple thong disappeared completely between her full, firm butt cheeks and the tiny twin triangles up top were not even large enough to hide her nipples, allowing tantalizing edges of her dark-skinned areola to clearly peek out. Misty and Michele even kept staring, like they’d never seen anyone like her in real life. It was probably a good thing that the male crew members were all currently working below or preparing the water toys, otherwise they were likely to have embarrassed themselves.
Across from D Cash sat Paul and, like a gentleman, he was managing to not stare at Ruby’s generous breasts. Not too much, at least. His fashion model girlfriend, Veronique, was from Italy, and sat beside him in her big sunglasses, her slim and toned body also tastefully covered by a dark-green, wrap. She kept her hand on Paul’s knee, except for the times when she thought the stewards weren’t looking, then she would run her hand up his inner thigh and smile at his sudden gasps of surprise.
Next to her was Henry, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts like the other guys, who laughed along with us but was totally failing to make the young and very pretty Bella feel like one of the gang. She pouted and played with her food. I hoped she would get into the spirit of the voyage soon. I knew Henry was asking for trouble bringing her but I still wanted him to have a good time.
After lunch, we took to the sea on the ship’s Waverunners, fast and powerful jet bikes that would tear across the water, sending great plumes of spray high into the air. All, except Paul, who indicated that messing around with toys like those was not much fun after racing wheel-to-wheel with the best in the world at over 200mph. He drank cocktails in the Jacuzzi while Veronique sunbathed.
There was no way of avoiding it, though. At some point, the crewmen had to be on deck while the girls were soaking up the sun. The two guy deckhands, and even the bosun, all found themselves tripping over their own feet as Ruby and Ada lay topless on the sundeck, their full, round breasts pointing proudly up to the sky even without support. As Henry, D Cash and Britney thrashed around on the Waverunners, Bella, deciding she didn’t need a bathing suit at all, simply cast off her t-shirt and Daisy-Duke denim, to lay down naked next to the other two girls, who applauded her bravery and complimented her on her hot body. Captain Harper, up in his wheelhouse, carefully kept his gaze far out to sea, along the horizon.