Samantha Silverton First Interracial Sex
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Samantha: Sex Afloat free porn video
During the evening, Samantha alternated dances between Tommy and me. No one could doubt that she loved dancing and flirting. By ten o'clock, all but one button on her blouse had 'accidentally' come undone, making it even more exciting when she danced with the occasional stranger. For Samantha, the tease was all part of the fun.
We’d been on the lookout for another girl who might want to go on a night sail with us, but so far had struck out. Around eleven, Samantha suggested that the three of us go sailing anyway. She didn't mention anything other than sailing, but considering how little she had on, and the way she had been acting, Tommy and I were entitled to some pretty fanciful imaginings. Samantha agreed to meet us at the boat, saying she had to stop by her condo first, to pick up a few things.
When she showed, Tommy got up to help her from the dock onto the boat. He looked down at her shoes. “No way are you coming on my father’s boat with those high heels.”
“Okay, okay, I understand. I’m taking them off.” Samantha removed the shoes and dropped them into the bag she carried. Barefooted, she stuck out her tongue at Tommy and asked, “Satisfied?” Of course he was and helped her onto the boat. Once on board she held up the workout type bag she was carrying and asked, “Got someplace I can dump this? Need to change, too.”
I was seriously disappointed. Samantha, at least right then, was still wearing the same thing she’d been wearing when we were dancing – flimsy and loose fitting blouse and shorts, with nothing under. I knew there was nothing under because when we’d been dancing, my hands had been inside her shorts and my fingers had stroked her pussy lips. And with one button holding the blouse together, there was also no doubt that she was braless. I suspect that Tommy was disappointed too, and probably because of similar recollections.
Samantha stood in the middle of the cockpit, waiting for an answer. Tommy and I were loosening lines, preparing for departure. Tommy turned to Samantha and looked her up and down before responding, “Now why would you want to change? You are fine, just the way you are.”
“I don’t want to debate you guys over this, but this outfit is raw silk and it cost me lots of money. I am not going to take a chance on somehow damaging it. Now can you please, tell me where I can change?”
I looked quickly at Tommy, silently telegraphing my concern. He caught the look and turning back to Samantha, said, “Right, just anyplace down below. Nobody’s going to bother you, and you can leave your bag down there too.”
Our spirits came roaring back when Samantha returned on deck, wearing a bikini. The sun had long since gone down and the air was chilly and damp. Even though she had very little on, Samantha didn't seem to mind, and of course, she didn't get any complaints from us.
With how sexy she looked, Tommy had trouble keeping his mind on the boat and getting us out of the harbor. Eventually, with my assistance, he did get the boat through the cut and into the ocean. It was a beautiful night with stars overhead and enough breeze to make for a pleasant sail. Tommy was at the helm, I was on one of the settees, and Samantha on the one opposite.
Tommy, peering straight ahead into the moonlit nothingness, deadpanned, “Surprised you bothered with the top.”
Samantha looked in Tommy’s direction – she had been looking at the stars - “Well, it is a little chilly out here.”
“If you’d been concerned about that, you wouldn’t have put the bikini on in the first place,” Tommy countered patiently. “So why not take the top off too?”
Samantha looked at me. I added fuel to the fire, “Well, I sure would like it, and I suspect you would too.”
I stopped breathing, and Tommy likely did too, waiting for Samantha to respond. She looked back and forth between us, then drew a breath and reached behind, untying the top to her bikini. She removed it, wadded it up and tossed it into the companionway. Leaning against the bulkhead at one end of the settee, she faced Tommy and me with bare breasts and quietly asked, “Is this what you guys had in mind?”
No answer was necessary, and no answer could have told of the sensations felt, as Tommy and I visually devoured the sight of Samantha, topless. In the conversation that ensued, no mention, reference or inference was made as to her near nudity, and although each of us knew an important boundary had been crossed, the fun and camaraderie we had shared at the night club, continued as if nothing had changed.
An hour out from shore, Tommy asked me to take the helm. Imitating Samantha’s position opposite, he propped himself against the bulkhead and stretched his legs along the settee I had just vacated. Samantha looked at him and said, “If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain.” She got up, crossed the cockpit, spread Tommy’s legs and sat down between them, leaning her bare torso against his.
Tommy at first fumbled with what to do with his hands. I was sure that back at my uncle’s club, when he was dancing with Samantha, he had most likely had his hands between her legs, making intimate contact, just as I had, but now, for some reason, was afraid of making contact with so much bare skin. He settled for resting his hands, one atop the other, on Samantha’s midsection, midway between the top of her bikini bottom and her bare breasts.
Although I doubt she had thought this far ahead when she had offered to be the solitary female accompanying Tommy and me on a night sail, it seemed evident now that she wanted to play. Samantha put her hands on top of Tommy’s and coaxed them upward, toward her bare breasts. He appeared hesitant, certainly anxious to cup her breasts in his hands, but reluctant to engage in such intimacy with me watching. “It really is okay,” Samantha urged. Tommy needed no further invitation; his hands were all over her bare tits.
Tommy teased, stroked, massaged, mauled, and otherwise played with Samantha’s bare breasts. He rolled her hardening nipples between his fingers, brushed his rough hands across their peaks, and did all that was possible to tease her nipples to their full size. Samantha’s eyes were trained on my shorts, watching as my erection grew and twitched. Between moans, groans and other expressions of pure pleasure, Samantha lifted her eyes to mine and said softly, “Put it on autopilot.”
The boat didn’t have an autopilot, but it did have a wheel lock, and in the direction we were headed, the nearest obstruction was half a world away. I locked us onto course and hastened to join them. Kneeling between Samantha’s legs, I licked my way up her inner thighs. Samantha, her hips thrashing and jerking, ripped loose the side ties of her bikini and pulled it from under her. Grabbing a fistful of my hair she yanked my head between her legs, pressing my lips against the dripping folds of her pussy. My nose flicked away at her clit, while my tongue snaked its way up her hot inner core. Samantha screamed out as she exploded, the flood of her secretions drowning my face. As she attempted to push me away, I fought to remain, licking up the juices and sharing in her pleasure.
As we continued on our travels to nowhere, Samantha experienced three more orgasms, one with me playing with her breasts while Tommy pounded her with his dick, one the reverse of that, Tommy playing with her tits while I did the deed, and finally, Samantha masturbating while Tommy and I watched, we being, by then, incapable of much else.
Tommy turned the boat around and headed us back to port. We arrived just as the marina’s restaurant was opening for breakfast. After fortifying ourselves with much needed protein, we split off to our respective abodes, to satisfy our even greater need for rest and recuperation. Before splitting though, Samantha made us promise that it would happen again.
We’d been on the lookout for another girl who might want to go on a night sail with us, but so far had struck out. Around eleven, Samantha suggested that the three of us go sailing anyway. She didn't mention anything other than sailing, but considering how little she had on, and the way she had been acting, Tommy and I were entitled to some pretty fanciful imaginings. Samantha agreed to meet us at the boat, saying she had to stop by her condo first, to pick up a few things.
When she showed, Tommy got up to help her from the dock onto the boat. He looked down at her shoes. “No way are you coming on my father’s boat with those high heels.”
“Okay, okay, I understand. I’m taking them off.” Samantha removed the shoes and dropped them into the bag she carried. Barefooted, she stuck out her tongue at Tommy and asked, “Satisfied?” Of course he was and helped her onto the boat. Once on board she held up the workout type bag she was carrying and asked, “Got someplace I can dump this? Need to change, too.”
I was seriously disappointed. Samantha, at least right then, was still wearing the same thing she’d been wearing when we were dancing – flimsy and loose fitting blouse and shorts, with nothing under. I knew there was nothing under because when we’d been dancing, my hands had been inside her shorts and my fingers had stroked her pussy lips. And with one button holding the blouse together, there was also no doubt that she was braless. I suspect that Tommy was disappointed too, and probably because of similar recollections.
Samantha stood in the middle of the cockpit, waiting for an answer. Tommy and I were loosening lines, preparing for departure. Tommy turned to Samantha and looked her up and down before responding, “Now why would you want to change? You are fine, just the way you are.”
“I don’t want to debate you guys over this, but this outfit is raw silk and it cost me lots of money. I am not going to take a chance on somehow damaging it. Now can you please, tell me where I can change?”
I looked quickly at Tommy, silently telegraphing my concern. He caught the look and turning back to Samantha, said, “Right, just anyplace down below. Nobody’s going to bother you, and you can leave your bag down there too.”
Our spirits came roaring back when Samantha returned on deck, wearing a bikini. The sun had long since gone down and the air was chilly and damp. Even though she had very little on, Samantha didn't seem to mind, and of course, she didn't get any complaints from us.
With how sexy she looked, Tommy had trouble keeping his mind on the boat and getting us out of the harbor. Eventually, with my assistance, he did get the boat through the cut and into the ocean. It was a beautiful night with stars overhead and enough breeze to make for a pleasant sail. Tommy was at the helm, I was on one of the settees, and Samantha on the one opposite.
Tommy, peering straight ahead into the moonlit nothingness, deadpanned, “Surprised you bothered with the top.”
Samantha looked in Tommy’s direction – she had been looking at the stars - “Well, it is a little chilly out here.”
“If you’d been concerned about that, you wouldn’t have put the bikini on in the first place,” Tommy countered patiently. “So why not take the top off too?”
Samantha looked at me. I added fuel to the fire, “Well, I sure would like it, and I suspect you would too.”
I stopped breathing, and Tommy likely did too, waiting for Samantha to respond. She looked back and forth between us, then drew a breath and reached behind, untying the top to her bikini. She removed it, wadded it up and tossed it into the companionway. Leaning against the bulkhead at one end of the settee, she faced Tommy and me with bare breasts and quietly asked, “Is this what you guys had in mind?”
No answer was necessary, and no answer could have told of the sensations felt, as Tommy and I visually devoured the sight of Samantha, topless. In the conversation that ensued, no mention, reference or inference was made as to her near nudity, and although each of us knew an important boundary had been crossed, the fun and camaraderie we had shared at the night club, continued as if nothing had changed.
An hour out from shore, Tommy asked me to take the helm. Imitating Samantha’s position opposite, he propped himself against the bulkhead and stretched his legs along the settee I had just vacated. Samantha looked at him and said, “If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain.” She got up, crossed the cockpit, spread Tommy’s legs and sat down between them, leaning her bare torso against his.
Tommy at first fumbled with what to do with his hands. I was sure that back at my uncle’s club, when he was dancing with Samantha, he had most likely had his hands between her legs, making intimate contact, just as I had, but now, for some reason, was afraid of making contact with so much bare skin. He settled for resting his hands, one atop the other, on Samantha’s midsection, midway between the top of her bikini bottom and her bare breasts.
Although I doubt she had thought this far ahead when she had offered to be the solitary female accompanying Tommy and me on a night sail, it seemed evident now that she wanted to play. Samantha put her hands on top of Tommy’s and coaxed them upward, toward her bare breasts. He appeared hesitant, certainly anxious to cup her breasts in his hands, but reluctant to engage in such intimacy with me watching. “It really is okay,” Samantha urged. Tommy needed no further invitation; his hands were all over her bare tits.
Tommy teased, stroked, massaged, mauled, and otherwise played with Samantha’s bare breasts. He rolled her hardening nipples between his fingers, brushed his rough hands across their peaks, and did all that was possible to tease her nipples to their full size. Samantha’s eyes were trained on my shorts, watching as my erection grew and twitched. Between moans, groans and other expressions of pure pleasure, Samantha lifted her eyes to mine and said softly, “Put it on autopilot.”
The boat didn’t have an autopilot, but it did have a wheel lock, and in the direction we were headed, the nearest obstruction was half a world away. I locked us onto course and hastened to join them. Kneeling between Samantha’s legs, I licked my way up her inner thighs. Samantha, her hips thrashing and jerking, ripped loose the side ties of her bikini and pulled it from under her. Grabbing a fistful of my hair she yanked my head between her legs, pressing my lips against the dripping folds of her pussy. My nose flicked away at her clit, while my tongue snaked its way up her hot inner core. Samantha screamed out as she exploded, the flood of her secretions drowning my face. As she attempted to push me away, I fought to remain, licking up the juices and sharing in her pleasure.
As we continued on our travels to nowhere, Samantha experienced three more orgasms, one with me playing with her breasts while Tommy pounded her with his dick, one the reverse of that, Tommy playing with her tits while I did the deed, and finally, Samantha masturbating while Tommy and I watched, we being, by then, incapable of much else.
Tommy turned the boat around and headed us back to port. We arrived just as the marina’s restaurant was opening for breakfast. After fortifying ourselves with much needed protein, we split off to our respective abodes, to satisfy our even greater need for rest and recuperation. Before splitting though, Samantha made us promise that it would happen again.
Mckenna
- 30.11.2021
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- Group Sex
