The Traveller

Last week’s Wicked Wednesday Prompt was “Hitchhiking” I started writing this post about a friend we had encountered but life got in the way a little.

In yachting circles it is called “taking on crew”. Sometimes the crew are looking for experience aboard a yacht because they want to own their own boat. Sometimes the crew have the finance and life situation to make this happen. For these people crewing is a step on the journey they have already begun. A way to get experience and some free training. Some people don’t have finances and the idea of owning a boat is more of a dream. For them being part of a crew is like touching the dream and somehow keeping it alive. For some people they want to travel from point A to point B but they have time and they are taking the opportunity to have an adventure along the way. 

From the outside life on a yacht can seem romantic and luxurious. The reality can be quite different. Broken toilets, close living quarters, seasickness, bad weather and nowhere to escape when someone is getting on your nerves. Most yachties are men. This can make it hard for solo women who want to join the adventure. Being aboard a small space with no escape and being effectively trapped with a man can be hazardous. Especially if he is interested in more than someone to help him operate his yacht and share the cooking duties. Yachting forums and social media groups are awash with cautionary tales about women getting caught in these situations. To make it worse some of the posts from single men looking for “female only crew” are a bit ambiguous but a bit of a closer inspection makes things seem doubtful that once they have trapped their prey they are going to respect her wishes. As always it seems men take every opportunity to be a dick and try to force their desires on any woman they choose. 

For myself and Mr Jones extra crew members can have a dual purpose if they wish. We advertised on a swingers site. We were pretty transparent and we only chose people who were up for the task. But once on board the choice was theirs. We have enjoyed some very sexy times with multiple people since we purchased our yacht. The one that springs to mind first is The Second Mate. Our time with him was intense and for me satisfying. He pushed my sexual boundaries and opened my eyes to the idea that I can be more picky and in fact should be. As a sailor he was OK. Willing but not a natural. He was one of the ones that planned to own his own boat but finances did not quite meet with desire. 

Recently we met The Traveller. Whilst we are no longer travelling long distances ourselves he wanted to get experience on a yacht because, like The Second Mate, he planned to purchase his own yacht and travel. He was keen to learn about sailing and combine the experience with another activity, passion. We met at a swinger’s weekend. On our first encounter he bent me over a chair and fucked me in front of my husband and any other people who cared to watch. It was a cracking start. A promise of things to come. When we packed up and went back to reality after the weekend we exchanged numbers with plans to meet in the future. 

A few weeks later the second meeting happened. We spent a couple of nights on the water. As with our first encounter things worked. Everyone walked away satisfied. Over the course of a couple of days and memorable evenings we explored each other, learned about fantasies and pleasure spots. Words that spring to mind are lusty, willing, capable and very, very sexy. We parted, unsure of when or if we would meet again. He has a nomadic existence and does not frequent my part of the country much. 

But the planets aligned. He came on board at a jetty on an island in Moreton Bay. It was a sunny morning and Mr Jones and I were enjoying a few days remembering boat life. From the first hello there was the connection. Caressing each other as we walked past, little comments and innuendoes, quick glances that relayed promises of what was to come. We moved away from the jetty and found somewhere a little more private. It was school holiday time so there were quite a few people around. After we anchored The Traveller and myself took the opportunity to sun ourselves on the front deck. Despite the other boats in the vicinity I took off my top and sunned myself allowing the sun to kiss my bare skin. Before long our hands were on each other’s bodies and I was encouraging him to free his growing cock. Fishermen anchored close by were treated to a show of me gorging myself on his cock. All of our flirting and suggestion had taken its toll. 

“I need to fuck you.” He told me urgently. “I can’t hold back my load any longer.”

The fishermen were about to be disappointed. We retired to the cabin to be joined by Mr Jones. In line with an earlier request Mr Jones wanted to watch me be fucked closely. His request was to lie underneath while I was being fucked from behind. I kneeled with my pussy close to his face and The Traveller rested his cock against my opening, teasing us both. I was unprepared for the feeling of him sliding into me. In the weeks since we had last been together I had forgotten but he reminded me but sliding in slowly as if he wanted to remember every part of it. His hands gripped my hips and he fucked me slowly, sliding his cock almost all the way out as Mr Jones licked me. The connection we had was re-established. He fucked until he could no longer hold back sliding out to blow his load over the outside of my pussy. I listened intently, taking in his breathing, the slight groan of pleasure as my husband licked his cum from me. 

I flipped myself around so that I could impale myself on my husband. His cock was rock hard. As I leaned down to kiss him I could taste The Traveller’s cum on his lips. I smiled knowing how much he had waited for this moment. This was almost his ultimate fantasy. I could tell as I rode him that he was close to adding his own load of cum to me. The thrill of being part of this much excitement was like a drug. I could never get enough of this. His climax came quickly. A little too fast for me but it didn’t matter. I knew that this was just the entree. I had two more days with both of them. There would be many more times. 

I wasn’t disappointed. 

Wicked Wednesday

Lest We Forget

Tattoos can be so very sexy. The way they kind of wind around on your skin and tell stories of your life. The Second Mate’s intrigued me. His were very, very personal. The first one I noticed was the one on his arm. It only took a few moments to realise it was symbolic of his service. There was a dog tag, and a flag and some other symbolic things I didn’t understand. But I never asked him about it. 

I was drawn to him when I first saw him. He told me 

“I will be the big guy standing there.”

And he was. Everything about him was big. His height, his shoulders, his hands…

Everything about him was sexy. His eyes, the way his hands pinched my nipples and left finger bruises on my breast. The way he would lay me down and hold my legs open so he could watch me play a vibe over my clit. The way he told me to spend an entire day wearing no underwear so that he could put his fingers into me every time I bent down to put away a rope or adjust some sailing gear. 

Apart from the tattoo there were other marks of service. His hyper vigilance. Trained to see every tiny movement and notice every little thing. He was acutely aware of his environment but also the moods and interactions of the people around him. He noticed when your mood was down and asked how you were going. And when his fingers were inside you he noticed every movement of your face. From the first time he touched me he could play me better than any musician. 

There were other scars. Ones that were harder to watch. Physical pain from old injuries. Mental pain from the things he had seen and done. The army is not easy on its infantry. It chews them up and spits out their injured bodies and souls like seeds from a fruit. 

Every November 11 we remember the fallen and pray for their souls. This year I will be remembering those who came home and praying that they can heal their souls.