Loading...Ken and I had followed the Navy after his OCS and two short-hitch postings for him to Pensacola, Florida. His work as a flight controller was stable enough so it looked as though we might just be here awhile. I put my Journalism degree to use and found work with a small magazine and they seemed pretty happy to have me. So we were the typical duel income, no kids (and none wanted for now at least), nice house on the water, late to middish 20s yuppy puppies you hear about.
With lots of laughs and love, I guess we were about as happy as we could get. Tom and Laura had been our neighbors for about four years ever since we moved back in 99. If there was a nicer couple, I don’t know ‘em. We literally met as we drove up in our Renta-truck. Tom was mowing the lawn and Laura was “digging in the dirt” as she calls gardening, but he turned off the mower and came over with his perfect white smile and introduced himself. Laura sort of glided over on the longest pair of legs in the world and the next thing we knew they just pitched in and spent the rest of the next two days unloading our truck with us. That was that, we were friends. Tom was a software designer for a local company and Laura was a nurse at the hospital here. Over the course of the next few years, we became about as close as friends can get. Yes, that way too and yes, I do love Laura as much as Tom but Ken and Tom are men’s men only although both of us girls have been sandwiched happily.
But this story is about the boat. That boat! Holy Shit! THE BOAT! Tom’s Boat. Tom built this boat, see, for about three years in his garage. Well, what of it would fit. Said it was to honor his Viking heritage. I had to ask Laura, who looks like a Viking, what kind of boat he was building and she sort of ‘Haaarumphs’ with her arms crossed and recites in her best Tom imitation as follows: “The Dragon Boat is a 27 foot, 5 inch, deep hull, twin marine, blown v-8, catamaran, with electronics.” Then she looked at me and says, “And it costs as much as a small country.” Little did both of us know just how much we were going to enjoy the ‘electronics.’ Tom’s one fault was that he could be a bit of a techno nerd at times. Not that Ken thought this was a fault at all. Oh no, he willingly encouraged him.
“We might be able to get the canopies fabricated from the Luftanzare Barkesea in Gestwertz for a heck of a lot better deal than here in the states. Lemme see what I can do on base.” Real help.
Then, just when you’d think the thing is ready for the water, he up and spends another three whole months on some “Secret weapons development,” project he won’t tell any of us about involving computers and machining and boxes delivered with what looks like dashboards and upholstery. But finally the big day is here and he takes each of us for a ride.
I’m telling you, the “passenger” pod is pretty spartan. There is room to sort of stand with a little half-seat/cradle, and a helmet that has a radio in it. Tom puts the helmet on me and checks to make sure the radio is in place, then Laura takes one wrist and Ken takes the other and together they lower all “5’2” eyes of blue, Oh what those five feet can do,” 104 lbs soaking wet (and I want so much not to be for the next little while) into the pod. My helmet fits between the arms of this padded cradle thingy and I have to stretch tippy-toe to touch the floor while my pus is grinding against the saddle because the set-up is made for someone a bit taller than lil’-ole me. It’s made for Laura.
Side story! One night not all that long after we had met, we all got ourselves snockered and I said, “So how long are them legs, anyhow?” Laura’s one vanity is her legs. Not that she doesn’t deserve to be vain about those things. My God you just never saw such a pair of legs. Any way she uses the old, “From my ass to the ground,” line and smuggy smiles and the next thing you know we got out the tape measure. She jumps up from the table and says, “Check out that inseam.”
“Nope,” I say because I’m smashed and because I’m feeling a little wicked and well, you know, ‘cause she’s really cute and maybe tonight the way things are going I can get a little. “Nope,” I say, “A true measurement should not have the shorts in the way.”
There is this silence as Tom and Ken look at each other with this “Oh-Ho!” look, and then she leans over and plants a wet one right on my lips and unsnaps the button on her jeans shorts and peals out of ‘em. And the only thing under the shorts is blonde and there just ain’t much of that, lemme tell ya!
“Holy shit,” I whisper. “A real Blonde.” And she just smiles and turns around and bends over enough so I can see her lips are pink and tiny and I’m thinkin’ everyone can hear me get wet. I got to hold the tape against her clit. Thank you. Tom and Ken can hold it to the floor. From clit to carpet she’s 34 inches tall. Hang on, she’s only 5 foot 7 inches total! Do the math and that is an abnormal stretch of leg we got on this woman.
Oh yeah! To answer your question, we did.
Back to the main story. They closed the limo-dark canopy and I’m all, “This is NOT fun!” Then Tom is in his pod and I hear his voice on the radio saying, “Here we go, Randy!”
And the most unbelievable roar blasts my back as those engines come to life. Must be something in my blood. Maybe my Mama was this 50’s bad girl in a motorcycle gang because I swear I go horny all over. Dragon Boat is barely moving out of the marina and Tom’s on the radio shouting, “What’s wrong, honey? You ok?”
So do I tell him what the engine vibes through the saddlele are doing to my clit? Or that I have no choice but to grind against the thing? Oh hell, “Toooooommmmy, you got a gggooooooood boat!” I moan!
He gets it and laughs and opens her up. What a ride!!! Twenty minutes of high-speed thrill and do I mean thrill. I came, (ha, I just got that!) back all 104 pounds soaking wet.
About a couple months after the launching, I noticed a trend. Every time Tom and Laura go for a ride, Laura comes back exhausted, and I’m thinking I know what is going on. I mean they gotta be going out to the key and doin’ it the way that thing gets a girl primed, but, wow, am I, like, so wrong.
This one time right after they got back, Laura is hanging in the jacuzzi with a drink and I head over to “Sympathize.”
“So, how ya doin’? Jahavagudride?”
She sort of props open an eye and looks at me. “I don’t know whether I love that boat,” she takes a sip, “or I hate that boat.”
“Yer kidden, right?” I think this is a case of she ‘doth complain too much.’ She just wants me to be jealous of how much she’s getting. “I’d be thinking you’d be getting used to it by now.”
She sort of shakes her head and says, “There is no getting used to what he has in that thing!”
“Aw, give it a rest.” I splash her a little and laugh. “I felt the vibe, ‘Tis a powerful vibe! But with your legs, you don’t have to sit right on the saddle thingy like I had to.” I smiled a little wickedly, “Unless you want to.”
She shook her head again, but this time she looked me right in the eye. “Remember the electronics and such he had installed specially? Well, you didn’t get any of those used on you the time you went. He has the Dragon tricked up like the ‘New Orleans Specialty House of Constant Arousal.’ If he wants, he could make a dead woman cum and keep cumming!”
“Holy Shit! What’s he got in there?” I mean, now I got to KNOW!
“There’s vibes and probes and, and. . . I can’t describe it all. The computer has to be something NASA would kill for. I bet he’s solved the in-flight exercise problem!” She thought a minute. “For women anyway.”
“But, I mean, you can resist, right? Sex is 90 percent mental after all.”
“Lemme tell ya this,” she sighed and leaned back in the water. “By the time he gets things fired up, the 10 percent of your physical done over-rides the 90 percent of whatever mental you might have and the results are you are totally, 100 percent, had! Which is what I am right now. I couldn’t cum again no matter who it was.”
Couldn’t let a challenge like that just pass by. Nope, not me. I just had to see whether she had just a little somethin’, somethin’ left in her for lil’ ole me. She did. Even though she begged me so pretty please she was so had and so tired, I just had to make my Valkirie sing her cum song. She was too exhausted to fight anyway. She was so out of it, as she came for me she sort of whimpered in my arms. She has this dominatrix element to her personality and five inches and 15 pounds on me so I don’t get to take charge very often. This time I was going to have my way. After she came so pretty for me once, I stood in the jacuzzi straddling her head while I made her put her tongue to good use. Then, I got low in the water between her legs and returned the favor for her second cum. First time I made a woman cry from cumming. She was that had! So, I helped her to bed and called it a day.
But when I was by myself in my room that night I found myself thinking (and I gotta admit not without a little fear on top of my excitement) “What kind of things does he have in that boat?”
The next day, Sunday, Laura was out for revenge and, damn it, I was ripe to be had. She came over early to announce that Tom had given her the keys to the boat.
“So, you want to go for a ride?” she taunts me right in front of Ken, and I know right off what she has in mind.
“Where you got in mind to go?” I say as we head for my room to change.
“I thought we’d take a run up to the yacht club for brunch,” she says slowly.
I’m already thinking, ‘Damn! Last time I was on that thing for less than a half-hour and popped off five cums! The club is about half that far away!’ But I jump to attention and salute, “Well, lemme change. What’s the dress for the day, Ma’am?”
She says, “Bathing suit and that skirt thingy you got in Hawaii for on the grounds. The club is just the first stop. Afterward, we’ll head for the ladies’ only beach.”
Now it’s my turn to really gulp. I’m thinking all the way to my room to change, and the thoughts are like this; half hour to the club but the run from the club to the beach has to be about 40 minutes out. Add them together for the ride home. She’s really going to work me. But I am not about to back down. I decided to turn the tables a little. I finished undressing me and slink over to her. I put my arms around her neck and kissed her for all I was worth. Her hands and fingers were all over me; pinching nipples that were already hard for her and way up inside my very wet pussy. As I spread wide and arched for her I gasped, “Is that all you’ll do to me?”
She waited until I came and then I got what I thought was really on her mind.
About two years ago a dominatrix personality of hers had surfaced, and four months ago she had proven to me I was a sub, well, her sub. That knowledge had the duel effect of scaring me and exciting me. That one session months ago had scared me enough so I vowed I’d do whatever she wanted and excited me so much that I still was happy to give myself to her! I just had to be careful, I told myself. Anyway, she had “that” look on her face now and I knew what “that” look meant. She made me kneel to ‘kiss’ her pus with my wrists crossed behind my back. When she finished she lifted my chin so I had to look her in the eyes and said, “That’s just the start. Orders for the day are as follow: You are to resist cumming with all your might all day long.”
Holy Shit! The one thing I knew I could not do was just what she was ordering. Then, she reaches into her beach bag and pulled out her whip. Four feet long braided rawhide and I remembered only too well how it felt as it curled around my breasts and butt. “After all, you said sex is 90 percent mental.” She purred as she slowly dragged the braid across my quickly tightening nipples. I took in a ragged breath while the rough rawhide bumped its way over my stiff little nubs. She flipped it over my head and wrapped the whip around my bottom before pulling me in for the kiss I tremblingly gave. She released me and smiled at the effect her actions had on me.
“Now,” she said as she picked out my tiniest coral thong, “get your suit on and let’s go.”
“Well, if she could say and do anything that would make me hornier . . .” I thought as I walked to the boat.
We got to the boat about 9ish and I was quickly helmeted and lowered into my pod, but the interior was now way different. Now, I slid face down into a cradle that was a thickly padded rest about three feet long designed to support my hips and shoulders which narrowed to ride comfortably between my breasts. The whole thing was slanted at a steep angle, a wide collar-like contraption with thick sides circled my waist. At first, my feet no longer touched the floor no matter how hard I pointed my toes, but she told me, “Spread wide and you’ll find two foot-rests.” Spread wide was right! I spread tippy-toe and darn near all the way to the edge of the cockpit (And what a lovely word that is, isn’t it?) before my feet found the rests. Not near enough to take all my weight off my pus where I was firmly held against a padded vertical pylon ‘seat’ that kept me from sliding any farther down. It wrapped around my entire pubic area and wedged itself deep between my butt cheeks. The whole cradle was upholstered with some shiny plastic material that gave only slightly. I put my arms into two rests on either side that had deep grooves. “Stay perfectly still, now.” Laura knelt by her open pod and I heard her flip a switch. The collar-like restraint around my waist slowly closed around me until I found myself held firmly in place. She flipped another switch and the arm rests closed around my forearms pinning me helpless. “Good, sweetie.” She purred as she rubbed my breasts. I remembered what she said about resisting cumming, so I fought the sensations streaming from my now hard nipples for all I was worth, but I couldn’t help moaning. The situation was just too much of a turn-on. “Oh sugar, there’s just not going to be much left of you if you start off like this,” she said as with a final tweak of my nipple she bid me a good ride and closed my pod.
I was alone. The situation, me helpless and my imagination on overdrive, made my breath echo harshly and turned-on inside the pod. Water lapping against the hull sounded like my pussy lips when I’m about as wet as I am right now. Holy Shit! What have I gotten myself into? I tried to adjust my pussy against the pylon and discovered a bump seemed to have grown in the ‘seat’ and was now positioned right against my swollen little pink clit. As I tried to adjust myself against it, I discovered rubbing myself against it seemed to be what it was there for and my breathing became harsher and deeper. My head went back and . . .
“Ready, sweetie? ” Laura’s voice made me jump and I squeeked a little. I heard her laugh. “Did you find one of the stimulators?” she asked.
One? Holy Shit!
“It’s about fifteen minutes at 70 knots to the Yacht club. Remember, I order you to try your hardest not to cum!”
Then the engines came to life and that bump began to vibrate and again, although this time I fought it with everything I had, I didn’t make it out of the marina.
“So much for the power of 90 percent mental.” Laura’s laughter rang in my ears.
“Sorry, Ma’am, I am trying!” I decided I was had, so I might as well enjoy it as she opened the throttles to the engines. “Oh, Oh, Oh my. Oh Holy Shit!”
I have never been a quiet cummer and the sounds of my orgasms filled our helmets. “I’m really going to enjoy today!” Laura shouted.
Then the dashboard sprang into pale blue life and Laura’s voice was in my ears. “The top read out is ‘Stim1’ for that bump you are enjoying. As I turn it on, you’ll notice two things, the read out shows ‘Vibe’ and ‘Rotate’ and you should be feeling the bump doing exactly that.”
Did I ever feel exactly that! Holy Shit! The bump had a life all its own. Not only did the damn thing begin a vibration, but it vibrated in a harmonic with the boat’s engines. Sort of a ‘vroom, vrooom, vrooooom,’ repeating rhythm impossible to resist. The read-out also said it was pushing out about ½ inch and rotating about 10 times per minute around a 1 inch radius. Sounded right from my angle. I don’t know how many orgasms I had during that fifteen minutes. I do know it was the most wonderful boat ride I’ve ever experienced.
I felt the cradle and arm restraints loosen as we pulled into the club marina, but even though it was off, that bump was still in control of me and I was shuddering cums for several minutes after I found myself free. She tied up to the dock and undid my canopy. I bet the smell of me was something else, but right then I didn’t care. I was still coming (Ha! Did it again!) down from what I had been through as she hoisted me up and let me sit for a moment.
“No wonder you are exhausted when you get home, Laura. That thing would get to anyone.”
She smiled, tied my pareau around my hips, and helped me to my feet. “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.” She whispered in my ear as we walked to the tables by the pool. “Nothing.”
“Holy Shit, girl,” I stuttered. “You win!”
“Sugar, you forget yourself, don’t you?” She arched one brow at me and I knew. I knew that I had knelt in The Position for her and now I had to do whatever she wanted.
So with a big gulp of the Bloody Mary that I was pretty sure was all I was getting for brunch I said, “Not me. I’m ready for anything!”
“Good.” She purred.
Following my liquid brunch and polite chit chat with a couple members we knew, it was time for round two. Believe it or not, I was ready and eager and showed it, but Laura had a surprise for me.
“Got to make a pit stop first. Time to take off your thong because we can’t have anything in the way for the next set-up,” she said softly as we crossed the plush carpet of the lounge on our way to the rest rooms.
I stopped right there. “Hey, babe,” I said a little shocked. “This pareau is a little transparent in case you hadn’t noticed and my bouncin’ beautiful butt not to mention my pert and perfect pleasing pus are gonna be on display if I do that!”
She whirled on me and pinned me against the trophy case. My heart hammered because although we were alone I knew someone could come by any second. “That is a direct disobedience and I shall deal with it severely! You now have one dozen lashes coming to you. Get that thong off, or would you care to go for two dozen?”
I was as terrified as I was turned on! Before I knew what I was doing I reached under my pareau and peeled down the thong right there in the lounge. She took it from me, and with my heart in my throat I was led from the club to the boat right past several members who I know got a view. She sat me on the edge of my pod and lowered me into its depth. When my pareau rode up on the edge of the cradle she removed it and my bare little self was pressed firmly against the pylon seat. She fastened the helmet on my head and pulled off my top. “Those really are perfect.” she sighed as she cupped each of them while her thumb and first finger tweaked the nipples stiff.
She flipped the switches trapping me in place and started the first stimulator, “Just to give you a little something to do right now while I’m busy.” Then, with the canopy wide open and me, humping, writhing and totally visible to anyone on the dock, then she begins to get the boat ready to go. Do you have any idea how long it takes to gas up a monster like that? Check the oil and water and whatever the hell else she can find to do first? About forever, that’s how long! I’m telling you, never, never have I been so completely helpless and had in such a public way in my life. The funny thing is, I’m thinking I like it.
As Dragon Boat roared out of the breakwater and healed over for the run toward the beaches, I was just enjoying my second orgasm when Laura’s voice sounded into my helmet. “Time for you to learn another one of the electronic features aboard, Randy. Check the read-outs.” I immediately looked at the dash through my cum-hazed vision. ‘Stim 2’ was now lit. Next to it showed ‘Rotate ½ inch’ ‘Probe – Adv. 2 in. Ret. 0 in.’ and ‘lube 5 ml.’ I felt a circling thrusting as something wet was trying to enter me. Didn’t take long either as I sure didn’t need that lube. The ‘Probe’ read-out went to ‘Adv. 3 in. Ret. 0 in’ then ‘Adv. 4 in. Ret. 3 in Cycle 20/min.’ and I was getting fucked for sure to the rhythm of 3 inches in and out every three seconds. Another read-out showed ‘Width’ then ‘1 inch’ was quickly replaced by ‘2 inches’ and I knew I had something substantial inside me. My Ken is about 2 ½ inches thick so the present settings were fine with me. I came noisily and Laura laughed and asked if I could take having the setting upped.
“Full speed ahead, Captain,” I shouted already beginning another orgasm. “Let ‘er rip!”
The read outs began to change and the sensations went from gentle to firm to well, you’ll see.
Laura explained how things worked even as things were, well, working very well.
“What Tom did is nearly amazing,” ‘Stim 2 — Probe Adv. 5 in. Ret. 3 in, Cycle 35/min. Width 2 ½ ’ I had to agree even though at the moment my thoughts were, something like, ‘Unnnn, Oh, Ummmm, Ah!, Cummmminnnnngh!!!!!!’ She continued her lecture right over my noises, “The genius in his design is in the embedded pressure sensors.” Next to the ‘Stim 2’ display a new read out labled ‘Press’ came to life. Its readings were in mg/mm2. “That read-out tells you how hard the probe can push. It’s calibrated to my tastes, but we are going to let you choose how hard you like it. Ready, Randy? Say when!”
‘Probe’ went from ‘5 inches’ to ‘6’ then slowly up by ½ inch increments as the thing inside me pushed. “Hey,” I said as it dipped deeper and deeper, “I, Uh, Oh, Holy Shit!” I felt it make contact with the back of my vagina at 6 and ¾ inches and now it was definitely starting to make its presence felt. “Laura, Stop!” I gasped when the thing stretched me to my limit. The read-out pegged at 8 ½ inches, but I couldn’t make heads or tails of mg/mm2. Only that it seemed like way too many numbers to me.
She chuckled. “You are within a cat’s whisker of my own readings.” The pressure dropped away, but not all together. The read-out stopped at 6 inches deep, 2 inches of width. Plenty enough I thought. Then Laura’s cheerful voice came on the radio again, “Randy, stand by for width calibration.” and ‘Width’ went from ‘2 inches’ to ‘2 ½ inches’ then slowly up by ¼ inch increments until I screamed. Whether the screams were from pleasure or from pain is impossible for me to say to this day. But the read-out this time showed I could take 3 ¾ inches before the pressure made me holler uncle, or auntie in this case.
“Great,” came Laura’s happy chatter. “I’m bringing down the readings for a moment.” and the dash read ‘Stim 2 — Probe Adv. 5 in. Ret. 0 in, Cycle 0/min. Width 1’ Still in me, but comfortable and not moving. Whew!
“There’s only one more calibration, Randy, Ready? Here goes!” And a new section on the dash read ‘Stim 3 — Lube 5 ml– Rotate ½ inch — Probe, Adv. 1 in. Ret. 0 in, Cycle 0/min. Width ½ ’ “Feel it yet?” She asked?
I sure did.
My eyes opened wide as a new probe worked its way into my bottom. The read-out for depth climbed to 3 inches, then 4 and 5 pretty quickly. I have always been a fool for anal and she knew it and I’m not going into how she knew right now. When she got the thing in 6 inches she upped the width to 1 ½ inches and started it going in and out by 3 inches on a pretty smooth 4 second cycle. “Ohhh, Laura,” I moaned, “That’s heavenly.” The ‘Press’ read-out came on and I knew what was coming. Me for one thing. I maxed out at ‘Stim 3 — Probe Adv. 7 in. Ret. 5 in, Cycle 50/min. Width 3 ’ before the pressure made be scream “Stop!!”
“We’ve used up so much time on calibration, Randy, we’re already at the fort.” I felt the boat slow and the read-outs showed I was getting stroked slow and soft as we navigated the chop in the channel. The day was perfect for a run in the Gulf. Not a cloud, only the lowest of swells from the SW and not a breath of wind ruffled the clear and warm waters. We cleared the last of the channel buoys and Laura put her over to the West along Perdito Key. “What say we open this up a bit as we head for the beach? And now that we know what you can take, take this!!!”
She pushed all the throttles to the max. She let the three stimulators work me over at max too. It was like nothing I had experienced, heard of experiencing, dreamt of experiencing, or ever hoped to experience for the whole run. I came. I came again. And again. I went into multiples and went into multiple, multiples. I remember I passed out and came to already cumming again.
Finally, the beach was centered in my canopy view and the readouts were zeroed. I dimly heard Laura’s voice shouting, “Randy, dammit, answer me!” She sounded scared.
“Wuzzat? Hmmm?”
“Randy, can you hear me?” Laura said?
“Ya. I’m ok, but Holy Shit!” I was so stunned and out of it. I found I could move my arms.
We had stopped about a mile offshore. I could see her out of her pod and moving fast to me across the deck before she opened my canopy. Took her only a second to remove my helmet and in another second I was kissing her. That is one powerful toy Tom has I thought. We got me out of the pod and on deck into her arms. As soon as she saw I was ok, her attitude changed, but I was gratified she had cared so much. “How many times did I conk out?” I asked.
“Well,” she counted, “The first one was at about the 20 minute mark, the second came in just over 30 minutes and that big one was right about 40 minutes. I think you were out almost a minute.” She was sounding a little scared again so I took her hand.
“I’m ok now. Just couldn’t get my breath!” I took a deep breath. “Well, we did find out how much I could take!”
“Ya! A lot!” She smiled. “I pass out from that thing, too.”
It was only a few minutes to the “Womyn only beach” and I spent them as the nude figure head. By the time we got close enough for me to suit up, I was feeling pretty good. We anchored in about 4 feet of water, swam ashore and as I lay with my tookis facing south, I was thinking the sun felt pretty good on my poor lil’ abused nether regions.
Rolling over on my tummy, I opened my legs enough to let the sun get to my bottom. “How ‘bout lotion?” I asked her as I undid my top. She scissored her legs over me and began working coconut oil into my shoulders. Her hands reached my suit bottoms and I lifted my hips so she could pull them down enough to smooth the lotion under the strap. She slid the suit down way farther than was needed so the material between my legs was all the way loose. I didn’t object as her hands expertly smoothed lotion under the suit. When her fingers caressed and entered my very open little pussy and equally open little anus I arced up and gasped my pleasure.
“Ah, Ah, Ahhh!” She warned. “This is one crowded beach and your perfect boobies are showing. Down on your tummy now and don’t move. Randy,” Her voice had that command quality, “I mean it! Not one movement or one noise at all.” She began to stroke my pus again.
“But Ma’am, I just gotta move if you’re gonna do that!” I said as I rolled half over to face her. “And it is not a crowded beach! Let’s be real! There can’t be more than a hundred women on the whole mile! Look, the nearest people to us gotta be 50 yards off!”
She leaned very close to my ear. “That will be another dozen lashes.” I gasped and flipped quickly back down on my tummy and played dead. “Better. Now don’t move again, or we’ll add another dozen.”
One hand continued to simulate smoothing lotion in case anyone was watching, but the other was very busy. Two fingers were well up inside my streaming wet pus. When I felt a finger enter my bottom, I knew my orgasm was close. It was everything I could do to play corpse. Wet was flowing out of me while she continued to pump me for all I was worth. I scanned the sunbathers near us, but nobody seemed to be paying attention and that was good as I was really close now. One, two, three firm pushes from her and I went over into cum land. The only sign from me was a deep breath and a tightening around her fingers. She chuckled.
“Ok, you may move now.” She said happily having established her complete control once again.
I rolled onto my side facing her but didn’t pull my suit back up or put my top back on. Just sort of draped my arm over my breasts artistically although I’m sure my little nipples peaked out every now and then, and I wanted her to notice. If she was going to have me right there on the beach, I was going to look had. One eyebrow went up and I asked, “So, what is it with the dom thing?”
She shrugged, “I dunno. It’s just, like. . .”
“Like what?”
“Randy,” she bit her lip. “I am what I am and I like being in charge, but sometimes I do wonder. . . I mean, I don’t know where it comes from. No big thing, like, from the way I was raised or anything. I just know, well, remember that time a couple months ago?”
“Oh, yeah, I remember it real well.”
She smiled, “If you only knew how often I think of that night. The one scene I keep playing over and over is your body all stretched out by your wrists with your toes just above the carpet. The way you looked, remember.”
“I remember.” I took a deep breath. “I lie awake replaying it, too. The one thing that still amazes me is how hard the whole thing made me cum. Never happened like that before. Sort of scares me, y’know?”
“Ya, well, sort of.” She said. “Anyway, for me it was the control thing. Doing things like that to another person. Did you know when I put the bar between your ankles, I came?”
I shook my head. “Was kind of busy. Tied up right then, so to speak.”
“Well, I did, and not a little one either, but I didn’t want it to show. There you were, completely open and vulnerable and I did it. It was like, wow! And then when I whipped and you were writhing around, I came again, but the big one, the really big one for me was that last whip stroke when you came.” She was looking right in my eyes. “I thought it was the best thing for me ever. Then after I let you down you surprised the hell outta me. I know, I made you lick me, that was, after all, the end point of the whole thing, you know, to do that and then to have you have to pleasure me. But you weren’t just going along. In spite of what I did to you, there you were working away like, like some famished gorgeous doll and I was the only food you had in a month.”
“Laura, that is the way it was for me. At that moment, it was like I couldn’t do enough to please you. You could have told me to do anything, or done anything to me and I’d have gone along just so as it made you cum.” She must have heard the ring of absolute truth in my voice, but until then, I never was able to put it into words.
We sat a moment digesting this and then she asked.
“So why are you a sub?” She asked.
“No good reason. Don’t think I haven’t tried to figure it out either! Maybe too many deadlines and responsibilities at work, or something. I just don’t know. I think it has something to do with someone else being in charge, maybe. Being helpless is a huge part of it. You mentioned when you put that bar between my ankles? That was the first time in my life I couldn’t close my legs and stop someone from having me there. Turn on for you? Shoulda got it from my angle!” I thought a minute, “Another major turn on for me is I don’t know what you are going to do. Like, I’m helpless and whatever happens is a total surprise and I have nothing to do with it. The cum from pain thing? Well, I was just so hot I would have cum from any touch, I think, but the whip. . . First it stung like hell, then, it kind of went right to my clit. But I don’t have a clue why it does that to me. The whole thing is just too new to me.”
“Well, same for me and the Dom thing.” She shook her head and took another breath, “Then, there’s Tom. Look, you know Tom does me like I just did you only a lot more, right.”
“Ya, I guessed.” I had a sudden insight. “Must be a helluva battle out there each week.”
Her head snapped around and her eyes fastened on mine. “You wanna explain, that?”
“I don’t think you give in, do you? I think each week he has to break you.” Beautiful blue eyes filling with tears let me know how right on the mark I was with that one. “That’s why you wanted me to fight it, isn’t it? So you could see yourself breaking?”
She breathed in sharply and we sat in silence together for a long time while she held my hand and looked out over the Gulf.
Finally, she kissed me and said, “Did you know the Dragon Boat has duel controls?”
“No, what do you mean, Ma’am?”
“I mean, I’m in a cradle just like yours and the electronics are slaved only I’m on the receiving set. I feel everything that happens to you. Remember when I told you your readings were within a cat’s whisker of my own?”
“Ya! More or less?”
“Some more, some less. My read-outs also show when you cum! Remember the pressure sensor? Tells me when your pussy goes into contractions. You can’t fake it!”
“Haven’t tried! How can you hold onto the boat with that going on?”
“That, my love, is part of the thrill for me.” She got thoughtful again. “Look, I don’t do you to get even with Tom or anything even remotely like that. I want you to know that. I just love having you under my control. Ok?”
I smiled and kissed her hard. “I think I know that, and I like being had by you. Once in a while, have at me and ‘damned be she who first cries hold, enough.’ But once in a while you gotta let me have things my way. Ok?”
“Deal!” We shook on it.
“C’mon, then,” I told her getting up and dragging her hand. “It’s my turn!”
We waded out toward the boat hand in hand, and the water was heavenly. Perfectly clear, so clear you can see fish right through the waves. I saw her when we dove. Her body suspended in limitless blue between the parallels of the surface, a mirror above, and the rippled sand patterned bottom below. That image will stay with me forever I thought and it has. The nice thing about the ladies’ beach is that you can do the same thing all couples do in the water and nobody gets all weird about it. I had her top undone and those pointy boobs of hers in my hands in a second. She kissed me and wrapped her arms around my neck.
“I have been so horny listening to you,” she whispered urgently in my ear.
I turned her away from the beach and lifted those perfect cones free of the salty water. My mouth closed over the puffy pink nipples and my tongue stroked her. Woman is in her mid-twenties with the tits of a teen, fer cryin’ out loud! I broke off and dipped below the surface. My hands pealed off her suit. I always enjoyed the way she kept that one tiny triangle untanned. She said she was Danish and Swedish which explained the platinum blonde hair, but her grandfather had been a Creol, so when she tanned, she tanned! Dark, dark skin, with just the one triangle that was now revealed perfectly white, blonde and pink. She spread for me. I moved in. Lips sealed around lips. She tasted of salt sea. I clamped onto her and let my tongue circle her, then dip, and as my tongue parted her inner lips the taste of her more than overpowered the Gulf. Circle, then dip again before I had to come up for air. While I breathed, two of my fingers entered her and I felt a little of the comparatively cool water enter with me. She gasped as I caressed her g-spot and then I was under the water again. My mouth formed a seal around her clit. I gently sucked the little swollen nub between my teeth and slowly rocked my head back and forth letting the tender skin just graze across serrated enamel. I finished her with my fingers deep inside her circling the hard knob of her cervix, her mouth biting my neck, her body spasming with the intensity of her orgasm. Didn’t stop at one, either. We did her, and did her, and did her some more.
She swam to the boat and got the picnic pack when she was satiated, back on the beach however a question hung between us.
“Laura,” I tentatively began, “how far is it back home?”
“’Bout-a hour.” She didn’t look at me.
“More or less than an hour?”
“More.”
“How soon are you planning to leave?”
“Kind of depends on when you think you can take it.” She said as she placed her hand possessively on my back.
My heart began to hammer. Was she planning on giving me the full treatment all the way home? Was I supposed to give her permission to do me more?
We both knew what my answer would be, but I guess I had to say it out loud for her.
I looked into her eyes. “Guess we better think about going real soon then.”
‘Stim1’ — Adv ½ in ‘Vibe’ ‘Rotate’ ½ in Cycle 15/min
‘Stim 2 — Probe Adv. 8 in. Ret. 4 in, Cycle 35/min, Width 2 ½ Vibe’
‘Stim 3 — Probe Adv. 7 in. Ret. 3 in, Cycle 40/min, Width 2 Vibe, Lube 5 ml’
The read out showed all three stimulators were slowly creeping up toward extreme settings and I was well on my way to my first orgasm as the key passed by in a blur of spray.
“Randy,” Laura called white sands and island pines swept past, “there’s one more feature about this boat you haven’t experienced yet.” A new area on the dash read-out now lit up, ‘Elec-mod,’ but I was very near my peak now and she had to wait a few minutes to go on.
“That sounded like a good one! Well, as I was saying, Tom put in something very similar to what is in a chiropractor’s office. It passes an electrical current through your muscles and causes them to clench and relax involuntarily. I helped him with this thing.” She sounded a little proud, actually. “Really, thinking of you, I was. Anyway, I can pass a current through any two of the stimulators and the computer can program random alterations so they fire off in ways you don’t expect. Well, here goes what I’m talking about.”
With that, I felt a tingling and then the strangest thing happened. I swear the muscles in my vagina began to pulse all on their own. Then my clit did a flip and I was riding something that was causing my entire nether region to twitch as though I was cumming. Didn’t take long for me to decide I liked it, and it took even less time for me to lose myself to the sensations.
“Oh, my, Ma’am! That’s the best yet!” I gasped as soon as I could gasp anything coherent.
“No, sweetie,” she corrected me. “The best is when everything works at once. Ready? Like this. Now!”
She was right.
The ride home was totally different than the ones on the way to the club and the beach. She played me like a musical instrument. Correct that! Now I knew just six feet away in her own pod she was getting exactly the same as I was. Thanks to the feed-back feature I knew the instruments she was playing were us not just me. It might have been our talk on the beach, but there was no more a brutal making me cum for the sake of seeing how hard or how much or how many times. (I’m pretty sure Tom does her that way on a regular basis. With her personality, those sessions had to be fierce clashes of will and breaking.)
Now though, she was using the boat to make love to me, and if you don’t know the difference, I can’t begin to explain it to you. No, now she was using the whole boat, in control, curving speed combined with grace under power to ride me up to the very razor edge of orgasm and then to see how long she could hold me at that impossibly fine edge between the clouds and the rain. Hollywood has yet to dream up a thing like The Dragon Boat. Power and grace controlled. Now she left her radio on so I could hear her orgasms, too! She applied or withheld that current to make me sing my song the same way she pushed the throttles and twisted the wheel to make the three of us dance her tune. First the dance, graceful and light, curveting, dipping, soaring, then she would straighten out, push all throttles forward to the wall, give all of us a dose of max; pistons huge, throbbing, thrusting in and out at maximum cycles, engines and us forced wide open and screaming, all read-outs pegged, the world outside a blur. Minutes later, while engine and stimulator harmonics stroked us, we surged through perfectly reflective still water. Hushed, but no less effective, women and machine responding to one will.
I sang for her. I sang loud, I sang soft, I sang quick, and slow, and sad and the most joyful sex songs I’ve ever sang. And she sang with me. To this day, I wish I had a tape of the sex sounds we made that hour. She never gave me so much I passed out again, or so little I was allowed even the slightest rest, always cumming or swooping toward another. This was a pas de trois between women and machine; a product of the computer age, raw power, lust and love. And I was the center, centered. I saw a painting once of this Warrior woman riding a dragon with a princess held on the cradle before her. This is as close as I’ll ever come to that. Power not under my control, definitely between my legs throbbing, surging and always so very dangerous, reined in just back from sending me to hell but taking me to heaven instead by the will of Her. I sang my song and if there had been words they would have said, “I give you me! I am yours! I love you!” She sang her song and if there had been words the words were, “I take this gift! I cherish this gift! I love you!”
Then, and way too soon, the home dock was in view and the read outs were running slowly down toward zero. The radio must be off because she doesn’t answer. I hear myself crying, “No, No, No! More! Please, Oh Please!” And now the read-outs are dark. I watch her tying up to the dock and know my bonds are loose. The canopy opens and she takes my helmet off. Her arms are lifting me out and I’m standing on the dock holding her as she leads me toward her house. I’m exhausted. An understatement that. One of her hands holding my hands, her other hand on my bottom. At the end of the dock she stops and lifts my chin for a kiss. So soft, so sweet.
We break and she says,
“There’s still that matter of two dozen lashes.”