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."
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."