Second Summer 2: A hand job on trapeze

Second Summer 2: A hand job on trapeze Second Summer 2: A hand job on trapeze

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Summary

Karen gives Greg a hand job while they're both trapezing on a sailing catamaran.

Summary

Karen gives Greg a hand job while they're both trapezing on a sailing catamaran.

Content

Submitted: December 21, 2014

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Content

Submitted: December 21, 2014

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Still dressed in our now wet swimmers and with our sexual needs temporarily resolved, we left the beach about an hour after we’d got there and we headed over to Greg’s place and my home for the next three months.

Greg’s family were ready for us when we arrived and greeted me warmly; they had since I’d first met them and his sister Jenna had become a good friend. It was nice of them to have invited me back and generous of them to put me up for so long; although I don’t mean to detract from that generosity by acknowledging they might have guessed that they wouldn’t have seen as much of Greg if they hadn’t.  But organising this had taken a bit more than the mere invitation from them.

Like most Uni students, Greg and I depended on work we did during the summer break to keep us financial during term. I do have a part time job for the term period, but the number of hours I can fit in isn’t really enough to keep things going. Greg’s holiday job was in his home town, mine in Sydney and that was always going to be a problem.

In the end the problem was solved when Kate got me a position at her workplace. As a valued part time employee her recommendation was all it took to let me get a role they had advertised. Better still, the hours they were looking for were not that different to the schedule Greg worked; meaning our time together was maximised.

Greg wasn’t one to let me spend too much time just doing nothing, even on the first full day of our holiday. He’d arranged to borrow an old Hobie 16 sailing catamaran from a sailing mate which we were going to take up to the upstream lake for a sailing picnic. And so, far too early in the morning, I found myself getting up and dressed (to the extent that putting on a bikini and something over it really constitutes getting dressed) to pick up the boat and picnic supplies.

The launching spot for the cat was a ramp near the restaurant that featured in my “Dinner by boat; sex all the way home” story from last summer. It was the first time I had come up this way by car. From there it was a very short sail to the entrance of a large lake. Too shallow for yachts or large motor boats and with a sandy bottom that restricted fish activity, evidently the lake was mainly used by shallow drafted small boat and cat sailors and kayakers. Today, on a mid-week day in November when everyone but Uni students were at work or school, we had it to ourselves.

All the 29er sailing I’d done last summer meant crewing on the cat was a breeze. With the picnic lunch tied down to one corner of the trampoline, we were soon blasting across the lake, both out on the trapeze in a building North East sea breeze. Sailing fast on a close reach, spray was flying everywhere as we cut and danced through the short steep chop thrown up by the effect of the wind on the shallow lake.

Dressed only in a pair of boardies – more like ultra-brief gym shorts in my case - and a long sleave rashie over our swimwear and under the lifevest and trapeze belts, we were soon soaked down; although on this hot day that was more of a benefit than a burden. Mind you Greg liked the additional effect the wind chill had on my nipples, with them raised and showing prominently through the plastered down material of the rashie and noticeably distracting him as he steered the boat. You do have to wonder about guys, don’t you? He’s spent most of the last year staring at my breasts in various states of nakedness and he still can’t take his eyes off a nip display even when he has to peek down the front of my lifevest to see it and he’s meant to be concentrating on sailing the boat.

As we sailed along Greg pointed out some of the features of the lake. Off to the west I could just make out some of the buildings in the only small town located on the lake; nestled as they were in amongst the trees. Pointing to the North West, Greg gave me the general direction towards Zoe’s family’s lakeside holiday house which was the venue for the party the subject of the “Zoe’s Naked Sex Party” story from the end of last summer. We on the other hand were heading to the northern end of the lake were Greg said he knew of a spot where there was a nice beach and a clear freshwater creek; to which my first reaction was to wonder how many other girls he’d bought on this sort of picnic to discover the beach.

About a third of the way across, Greg asked me if I’d like to steer; something I hadn’t done on the 29er, or indeed on any sailing boat before. Swapping places with him, we were soon back out on the wire, Greg holding the mainsheet in one hand (which the skipper usually took) while I concentrated on trying to steer. After a few hair raising incidents and a near capsize, Greg put his spare arm around my back to where he could just reach the tiller extension I was holding, to let him take control in an emergency; or simply as an excuse to cuddle up to me – I’ll let you decide.

I in turn put my spare hand on his thigh - to better balance myself and so I didn’t get too panicked when things got wobbly – at least that’s what I told Greg.

While my hand started on his thigh, it didn’t stay there. My trapeze belt was a full nappy style (OK, if you’re not into sailing, that’s going to sound weird – don’t worry about it; all it means is that the only access to my crutch was straight down the front of the belt. A very difficult access when you’re supported by the belt on the trapeze). Greg’s was a more strappy affair. Threading my hand between two straps, I soon had myself nicely supported by a hand instead being over his cock; which thoughtfully gave me an even better grip by conveniently growing itself into a handle.

I was meant to be concentrating on steering the boat; really I should have left it at that. But you know what Greg and I are like! Instead after a short while I progressively threaded my hand first down the front of his boardies by pulling them down at the side, and then even down the speedos, so my fingers were eventually wrapped around the bare flesh of his erection. In retrospect, that really was a bit dodgy. After all, if we’d had a monumental nose dive at that point there was no way I was going to be able to extract my hand quickly; someone was going to suffer a painful injury. I could entertain myself after by the thought of someone wandering along the beach and finding a man’s erection firmly encased in a female hand – both severed from their owners - washed up inexplicably on the beach, but the result might not have been so amusing at the time.

Now all the time we’re sailing along the boat’s bouncing around like a rodeo horse; the need for something to support myself wasn’t entirely made up. Greg’s flat out on the wire, while I’m in a more nervous semi- sitting posture. Needless to say, with all the movement, the hand I had around his erection wasn’t exactly still.

I could tell from the way his cock was swelling and surging he was enjoying it, but apart from that you’d just think Greg was concentrating on making sure the crazy woman holding the tiller didn’t get them into trouble. After all, as regular readers know, Greg and I are always touching each other up like this.

So even though the cock was getting a fair workout, I was a bit surprised when after about 10 minutes Greg’s cum suddenly squirted all over my hand; filling his speedos in the process. Frankly we were both so wet, were it not for the fact the cum was warm and the handle I’d been holding onto quickly disappeared, he might have got away with it without me noticing. As it was I got to give him a good teasing about.

It also let me absolutely insist on stripping him out of all his sailing gear and boardies, turning down the front of his speedos and giving the speedos and their contents a good clean out in lake water when we got to the beach and had grounded the boat. For some reason I then found the contents of the speedos much harder to tuck in afterwards. Things just didn’t seem to fit in the way they had before! Funny about that! Still I was sure I could find a cure for that problem after we’d settled down.


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