Comfortably Numb Adventures: The Windsurfer – Part 1 free porn video

Comfortably Numb is a French-built 44’ aluminum sailboat that serves as my retirement home. I had her built as a (late) mid-life crisis and moved aboard when I stopped working. My wife decided that my reversion to what she viewed as a teenage mentality and the relative primitiveness of boat life were inconsistent with her lifestyle and she found herself a rich banker. I sail the boat mostly in the eastern Aegean Sea, hopping between Greek islands with an occasional foray into Turkey. Previous stories detail my biography, so I won’t bore you with details.

It was early September and I had visited some friends who had bought a lovely house in the old section of Rhodes town. I’m generally centered in the Leros area, an island about 100 miles north of Rhodes. The joy of the Aegean is that you’re never far from the next island.

I had gone from Rhodes to Nissiros, an island with an active volcano, in a few day-hops. My next stop would be an anchorage on the southwestern side of Kos. It’s a large bay called Kamarai and is known to be a windy place as the north wind accelerates over the mountain ridge running east-west that is Kos, and comes down hard on the back of the island. While it may be windy, when you anchor a hundred meters from the beach in sand, there are no waves and the bottom is ‘Velcro’; the anchor never drags.

Going north in the Aegean usually means going dead into the wind and a sailboat requires at least a 45 degree angle to the wind to move. So you can either zig-zag, called tacking, or you can motor. I stopped being a purist long ago and when I can’t sail I generally turn on the motor. Especially when I’m alone, which is most of the time.

By the time I was three miles from my anchorage, the wind was blowing twenty-five knots, spray was flying over almost the whole length of the boat and I was hiding under the dodger. The sea was mostly white and I was the only fool out there. Unlike macho sailors, I don’t enjoy big winds or big seas. Bragging rights “...the seas were four meters and the wind hit fifty knots, I was surfing at ten knots...” is blah-blah to me. I like bobbing at anchor in warm, clear water off a sandy beach, having a sundowner with an intimate friend best. None of those conditions looked likely at this point.

I scanned the horizon for obstructions or traffic and I spotted what looked like flotsam about a half mile ahead of me. Sometimes the wind blows good stuff off the beach. A kayak would be a nice addition to my toy collection. I grabbed the binoculars. It looked like a windsurfing board. Probably a rental, this bay was a windsurfer’s mecca. I would return it to it’s owner if it was marked. I changed course a bit to point to the board. As I got closer, I saw that it wasn’t just a board, but that there was a person holding onto it waving at me. Someone who undoubtedly wasn’t good at it, and got picked up by the wind as it increased away from the beach. I slowed the boat down and positioned it so that the surfer was at the stern where I have swim platform. A mass of blonde hair indicated that I was about to rescue a female tourist.

“Do you speak English?” I yelled.

“Yes,” she replied.

One hurdle crossed. No surprise; the world speaks our language, we rarely speak anything but our language. I threw her a floating rope I had prepared and told her to tie it to the board. She was shivering as she made an insecure knot. Skip it, I told myself, it’ll hold.

I lowered the swim ladder. She grabbed it and tried to pull herself up without success. I was worried that the boat would hit her as we bounced in the waves. I told her to put her feet in the bottom rung when the bouncing ladder hit a low point in the water and hold on tight. I grabbed under her arms and landed her on the platform like a beached whale. She was crying. I let her recover for a few moments and helped her to crawl into the safe cockpit. She lay still on the floor.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I am tired,” she said with a strong accent that I guessed to be Russian.

“You must be cold, take off your wetsuit. Are you OK to do that?”

She nodded.

I reached back to the swim platform and got my deck shower hose, setting it to warm water. She was now in a bikini and I managed to suppress my usual lecherous thoughts. I handed her the shower, told her to rinse off while I went below to get a towel and some dry clothes. I gave her the towel, pair of shorts and a t-shirt and went back to driving the boat to the anchorage, pretending not to look at her as she removed her bikini top and then the bottom to dry off and put on the clothes. She had lovely round and firm breasts with small nipples that were pointing up. Breasts are definitely my thing. Her pussy was shaved except for a narrow V of dense hair that proved her to be a natural blonde. Her pussy lips seemed to pout, definitely another weakness of mine. I’m a weak man.

She didn’t seem particularly modest, and I’m sure she saw that I was pretending not to look. When she was dressed I turned to her. “My name is Fred, what’s yours?” I asked.

“Anya. Thank you for saving me.”

“I am very happy to have been there. Go below and warm up. We’ll talk when we are anchored.”

The boat had been completely closed up; when spray flies, the hatches are battened down. The motor had warmed the cabin and I thought she’d be okay after a few minutes. She had probably suffered a mild case of hypothermia, but she seemed fully lucid and the shivering had eased.

I anchored closer in than I normally would, figuring on having to dinghy in to return Anya to whomever she was with on Kos.

When I was happy that Comfortably Numb – I know it doesn’t flow and that nobody native to the Mediterranean rim can pronounce it, but I still like my boat’s name - was secure, I went below to find the girl curled up on a settee with a blanket she had pulled from the shelf over my berth.

“Sorry I took blanket, I’m cold,” she said.

“Relax. Dr. Fred has just what you need.”

I put enough milk for two hot chocolates on the stove and prepared the cups. Five minutes later Anya sat up and cradled the hot cup. She took a sip and smiled for the first time.

“Thank you very, very much, you are nice.”

She had large white teeth and a wonderful smile as the cloud of blond hair flowed around her pretty face. I doubted that she was much more than eighteen and, as a rule, I try to behave with any woman under thirty – unless, as once happened, I get stalked, then the minimum age drops to whatever the legal age is; I’m willing to round up. I have no shame.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I’m not very good at this and I fell off my board. Could not get back on in the waves and pushed off by the wind. Very scared, I thought I’m dead. Can I use your phone? I want to call my mother, she is probably worried.”

I got my phone and handed it to her.

“It’s an expensive call. I make short. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said.

She dialed a number and after a few seconds I could hear the female voice on the other line was agitated. After less than a minute, she disconnected.

“My mother just found out I am not home and she very worried.”

“I can understand that. What did you tell her?”

“That I would call her when you take me ashore so she can pick me up with car.”

“You live here?” I asked.

“No, we’re on vacation, but we stay at friends with car.”

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“Odessa,” she said.

“Lovely city.”

“You know?” she said.

“I was there five years ago for a few weeks, in the marina, near the Potemkin Steps.”

There I decided that in my next life I would go to the Ukraine to find my partner. The percentage of beautiful young women was completely disproportionate. I still don’t know why. Anya was no exception.

“Are you here with your parents?”

“Just my friend and my mother, my father, he gone.”

“Gone? He died?” I asked indiscreetly.

“No, gone. Woman.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you on a boat?” she asked, “where is your woman?”

I told her my tale. She was surprised that I had no ‘woman’. She thought it would be lonely without company and expressed sympathy that I was living a celibate life. I assured her that occasionally I met ladies that provided temporary celibacy relief. At this point she was clearly recovered and I felt free to return to my lecherous thoughts. I should have given her one of my semi-Emanuelle t-shirts, with the big armpits suitable for boob-watching, that I keep just for these situations. She hadn’t seemed inhibited in the cockpit, but those were extenuating circumstances.

I couldn’t resist: “How old are you, Anya?” I asked matter-of-factly.

“Nineteen,” she replied.

“Are you in school?”

“I’m studying to be an architect, like my mother,” she replied.

“Who’s your friend?” I asked.

“Her name is Tatiana, she was a student with me, just finished, her parents own the house,” she replied.

We finished our hot chocolates and I wanted to get her ashore and resettled before it got dark.

She asked to see the boat. I gave her the full tour. I love my boat and am a sucker for anyone that compliments her or that knows about sailboats. She told me that she had grown up on a lake not too far from Kiev, and that her family had a couple of small boats. Then her father left her mother with a twelve-year old Anya for a svelte young woman. There wasn’t enough money for the house on the water and they moved into a nice rental apartment in Kiev. She missed her sailing dinghy, windsurfing was a diversion. Then she came over, put her arms around me and hugged me. I thought that it was more a gesture of relief than one of intimacy. I held her and gave her a hug. I could feel her firm breasts against my chest. This was a position I was happy to hold for a while, but not a good one for discretion! I’m sure she felt my cock stirring.

“Call your mom,” I said, hoping to defuse the situation before it became too awkward, “tell her you’ll be at the harbor cafe in fifteen minutes.”

She gave me a little smile; it felt as though she intentionally quickly pressed her crotch against mine and then walked over to the table to pick up the phone.

She called her mother who said she’d be there. I gave her a windbreaker. I had purposely not told her to ask her mother to bring a change of clothing so I could have the clothes I’d loaned her back, figuring that would be an excuse to see her again. I was a bit ashamed; Anya could be my granddaughter if I’d started early. Desperate times...

I pulled the dinghy close to the stern so she could step in. She turned to me, took my head in her hands and kissed me deeply on the lips.

“Thank you for saving me, Fred,” she said, “I wish I could do something more for you.”

Aghh. What does that mean? And how do I, renowned pillar of morality, respond?

“That kiss was the second best thing that happened to me today,” I said.

“What was best thing?”

“Meeting you, beautiful Anya,” I thought that was about as forward as I could be without being a total tool. She looked at me, her big blue eyes opened wide and she smiled broadly. She held that look for a second and stepped into the dinghy.

The cafe was a small wooden flat-roofed building along the small basin where locals kept a dozen little wooden fishing boats. It oozed with character.

We entered the café, and Anya’s mom was sitting at a corner table with a young woman who must have been Tatiana. They both jumped up, and Anya’s mom ran up to her daughter and hugged her. Anya gave them the thirty-second account in Ukranian of how I saved her life. Then all three cried.

“My name is Marina and I don’t know how to thank you,” Anya’s mother said extending her hand. Then she started crying again and hugged me instead.

“I’m happy to meet you, Marina; my name is Fred. You don’t need to thank me, I feel great about having met your daughter at sea. I rarely get to rescue a fair maiden,” I said wondering if there are people who really talk like that and if Marina would even understand what I said.

Marina was around forty, I guessed. It was obvious where Anya got her blond hair and her awesome good looks that I was just now relaxed enough to appreciate. She had been a wet, shivering rat on the boat; now she was a dry, relaxed, lovely young lady. While having sex with a nineteen-year old is definitely a fantasy for most males in my circumstances, the reality is that it just doesn’t happen. Anya and Tatiana ran off to the toilets. I wondered why women visit bathrooms in company.

“Let’s have something to drink and talk for a few minutes, then I’ll let you go,” I said.

We sat down at Marina’s table, had drinks and Anya told the tale of her ordeal in English with full orchestration. I was Arnold Schwarzenegger and Mother Theresa combined. A good reaction from Tatiana and Marina, lots of ooh’s and ah’s. Nothing about what a sexy guy I am. Disappointing.

Marina asked me to talk about myself and I told her about my retired life as a social pariah. Anya and Tatiana were clearly fascinated by my Bohemian lifestyle; Marina probably also, but she was more reserved, sort of an upper-class attitude – but in a nice, non-condescending way. I probably overdid the romantic aspect of my life. The bit about being at anchor off a white sand beach in calm, clear water enjoying a nice glass of cold white wine as the sun goes down. The scene that sailboat charter companies want you to think you will be enjoying every day if you charter with them. Those conditions occur, just not often at the same time. I may have insinuated that I was a love doctor, despite the limited opportunities to practice. I figured impress them while they still see me walking on water.

Marina told me about their house on the lake and how her daughter had enjoyed sailing their dinghy. Anya said that she really missed sailing her little boat, and Tatiana said that she’d never been on a sailboat. That was the pretext I was looking for to invite them for a day out on my boat. The forecast for the next day was for moderate winds and I proposed that they join me and we would sail down to an uninhabited island eleven miles south of Kos called Yiali, where we’d have lunch, swim and sun. We‘d be back before dark. I told Anya she should bring her windsurfer for supervised practice.

Anya and Tatiana were very excited to accept my offer. Marina thanked me but said that she was terrified of water and wouldn’t even think of going out. But she said that I would have to agree to spend the day after with them at their house, where I could use the pool, the washing machine and Marina would treat me to some Ukrainian cooking. Just as I was getting bored, two days of things to do, places to go, people to meet.

My rule is that day trip guests have to bring lunch. That relieves me from having to do something’s that’s at the edge of my skill set and makes my guests enjoy the day more as the probability of a gastronomic mishap is eliminated.

The following morning I met my two new girlfriends at the dinghy pier. I loaded up the inflatable and took the board in tow. Two hours later we had the hook down off the Yiali beach. There was another boat anchored a half mile away. I believe in anti-social anchoring.

Underway the two girls and I had had enjoyable conversations about a myriad of subjects. Unlike most of their contemporaries, Anya and Tatiana were more interested in meaningful subjects than in celebrity gossip. They seemed much more mature than their age. Maybe being from a country that has suffered helps make for a more serious attitude. I have always enjoyed the company of women more than that of men, and these girls were no exception. They seemed to be relaxed in my company, and by the time we were moored it felt as though we had known each other a long time.

Anya put on a skin, the water and air were warm, and asked me to give her some windsurfing tips. I can BS my way through most situations, but my windsurfing experience was not a happy one. Despite having had lessons and being fairly athletic at the time, I think I managed to stay upright for around twenty milliseconds. I promised to keep an eye on her, but she was on her own.

While windsurfing without a skin would have been chilly, the water temperature was perfect for swimming. I suggested to Tatiana that we have a swim before lunch. I went to my cabin and changed into my swimsuit. When I came back up again, Tatiana was already in the water. I could see Anya looking pretty comfortable on her board a few hundred meters away. The bay was protected and enclosed and she would be fine.

I grabbed a couple of foam swim ‘noodles’ and lowered myself into the water. Not exactly warm, but not cold. I swam over to Tatiana and handed her a noodle. I noticed that she was topless. Her breasts were much larger than Anya’s, they sort of floated in front of her. She had large dark nipples. Nipples 'r us. Trying to be nonchalant – I always hang out with topless nineteen-year olds - I showed her how to tuck the noodle behind her under her armpits and we floated facing each other. She looked down at my bathing trunks. There are no secrets in crystal clear water.

“I thought we were friends, Fred,” she said, laughing. I saw that she had neglected to wear any part of her bathing suit. There was no bush, she had a bald pussy. I assumed that women who shaved their pussy would be sexier than those that didn’t. Probably juvenile logic. I suffer from that in the context of the fairer sex. She reached and pulled my trunks down. I raised my legs and helped her remove them. The cold water didn’t prevent my dick from starting to rise to the occasion.

I threw my trunks on the swim platform. She reached down between my legs and said “Now what have we here? You are happy to see me!”

“I certainly am that, but should we be doing this? What will Anya say?” I replied.

“Anya will be happy for you,” she laughed, adding, “and for me.”

We approached each other face to face. She sat in lap with my now full erection between her legs. I love these noodles because they keep you afloat, but leave your hands free to play. I held her soft breasts in my hands. She smiled and gently kissed me. Her tongue darted into my mouth and met mine. She held my dick, squeezed and gently jerked it. It got a little harder and I moaned slightly as our tongues continued their pas de deux. She spread her pussy lips and pushed my cock against the opening. Seawater is not the world's best lubricant, and her pussy was reluctant to let me in.

“Slowly, Fred, maybe this will work,” she asked.

“Absolutely, there’s no rush.” Nineteen year olds aren’t what they used to be.

“Are we safe to have unprotected sex?” I asked.

“If you mean will I get pregnant, the answer is no problem. Anya is safe, too. We are at the discovery stage in our lives. We try new things. I try you. I’ve fantasized about your cock all morning. You shouldn’t wear loose shorts like that.”

All I had been wearing was my baggy shorts that sometimes reveal their contents if I am sitting a certain way. I think I hadn’t worn them on purpose, but maybe I had. Her comment added another millimeter to my hard-on.

It must have taken a couple of minutes to enter her, but it was well worth the wait. We sat quietly, she moved her hips just a little. I hadn’t had sex in what seemed to be ages and I was terribly horny. I really just wanted to cum in her pussy now then get to more serious business. But she was just warming up. As long as the up and down motion was limited, I figured I could hold it while.

A splashing sound brought me back to reality.

“Hi guys, did you see me out there?” Anya asked, followed by, “oops, I guess you two are busy, I’ll go out again.”

That was enough to postpone my climax by a half hour. Tatiana smiled.

“She’s a big girl, she knows what’s going on,” she said, moving her hips up and down.

“Slow down, girl,” I said, “I can’t hold it much longer.”

She laughed and said “That’s okay, Fred, cum inside me now, then we will go back aboard and do it right.”

She kissed me with her mouth wide open, her tongue moving inside my mouth. Then she started to move up and down rhythmically. My cock grew just a little bit bigger and a lot harder as I felt my climax approaching.

“I can’t hold it any longer, I have to cum,” I whispered in her ear.

“Cum, Fred, cum,” she squeezed her cunt tightly around my dick. That was all it took. I spurted into her pussy in short bursts that felt absolutely wonderful. I couldn’t stop and I didn’t want it to stop.

“Keep squeezing, Fred, fill me up,” she whispered, “keep moving if you can, I think I can cum also.” She started rubbing her clit as I slowly continued to fuck her. About a minute later her breathing increased and she was moving her hips faster. The sensation of being with this beautiful young woman prevented my dick from going flaccid right after I got done. I hoped I could make it for her.

“Fuck me, Fred. Move that fat dick as fast as you can. Ooohh, here I go. Squeeze my tits, whisper to me, grab my ass.”

I squeezed and hugged the best I could, maintaining as much body contact as possible. Water is not an easy medium for a fuck. My cock was definitely reaching the end of its useful life as she went, “I’m here now, I’m cumming, oohhh.” She continued to move for another minute then collapsed in my arms.

“I have always been able to cum quite fast,” she said, “something I love about myself. I knew you wouldn’t last too long!”

I smiled and kissed her.

“You are wonderful, Tatiana.”

“Let’s get out of this water before my skin shrinks.”

We climbed back aboard and rinsed off. After she dried off, she got a short tie-dyed wrap-around skirt from her bag and slipped it on. Her butt and her pussy were visible whenever the skirt lifted, which was often in this wind. I went below and put on a pair of tight underwear under loose shorts figuring the combination might mask the permanent hard-on I expected to be sporting.

Tatiana came down and put her arms around my neck, pressing her ample breasts against my chest, and kissed me hard on the lips. She was tall like her friend. Tall women are good. Short women are good, too. I reached behind her, grabbed her firm ass and pulled her close. My cock responded to the pressure.

She laughed and asked, “So are we going to eat or are we going to fuck again?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Eat it is,” she replied.

Anya had tied her board off and was on the aft-deck showering. I had left towels in the cockpit. She dried off and came down stark naked.

“Ladies,” I said, “this is a lot of temptation for a man with very limited willpower.”

“Good,” Anya replied, “we will have some fun. What do you think, Tatiana? Isn’t he your kind of man? I told you.”

“You were right, he is a nice man and I think he might teach us a thing or two that those hoodlums you hang out with wouldn’t understand.”

“They are not hoodlums, they are students. I can’t help it if my friends are poor people. But you’re right, a few lessons might be useful.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. I was almost in shock from the anticipation.

“Did you two plot this?” I asked.

They looked at each other and smiled.

Anya walked over and said, “You must be our boy-toy.”

“Boy-toy?” I articulated, “you’re watching too much television.”

“I never watch television, I read it somewhere and like the word. Boy-toy,” Anya replied.

“Didn’t you say that boy-toys never wear shorts so they can always be ready?” Tatiana asked.

“I always say that,” Tatiana replied, laughing.

Anya walked over to me and pulled my shorts down, noticed the underwear, said “ha!” and soon my privates were exposed for all to see.

“Maybe it is a little early for lunch,” I said, “but I think it might take me a bit to recover from the sex with your friend.”

I put my arms around Anya, held her tight and kissed her.

“I’m ready for appetizers, your little pussy,” I whispered in her ear. She purred. I picked up a couple of cushions and placed them on the saloon table. I laid Anya on the table and spread her legs so each would be on one of the opposing settees. I leaned over her and suckled her breasts. The little nipples hardened more. Her firm breasts remained two upright mounds rather than collapsing. I kept alternating between them.

Eventually I worked my way down to her delicious pussy. Her protruding cunt lips were already spread. I resisted sucking on them, rather first paying attention to the area around her pussy. She was clearly enjoying the attention from the sounds she was making and after a while she started to wiggle her hips. I took that as an invitation to work on her erotic center. I gently sucked on her pussy lips, pulling each and licking the inside and outside edges. She responded by moaning loudly and saying things I didn’t understand. I could see that her damp pussy was now beginning to ooze her juices. I switched to her little clit, carefully working it with my tongue. She became loud and agitated.

I felt Tatiana pressing her breasts against my back. I moved my head away from Anya’s pussy, continuing to rub her clit with my thumb, and gave Tatiana a kiss. Then I went back to working that clit with my tongue. She got more and more agitated and expressive. It was getting hard to stay with her moving pussy. Tatiana’s big tits kept rubbing my back and she was now holding my balls firmly. My cock had clearly recovered from its earlier experience.

This scenario had made me incredibly horny. I had only had a threesome experience once before with two twenty-one year old ladies, and this promised to be in that league.

My cock was so hard it almost hurt. Tatiana was now stroking my dick with one hand, rolling my balls in her other hand. Anya was about to cum. I increased my tongue movements without pressuring her now very sensitive clit. Then she exploded.

Anya screamed and bucked. I jumped up and plunged my swollen cock into her wet pussy as she continued to cum.

“Oooo, Fred, don’t stop. Fuck me. Deeper, deeper,” she said.

Tatiana squeezed my balls and whispered in my ear, “Fuck her, Fred, shoot your cum into her her little cunt. Do it now. She is ready.”

Tatiana’s encouragement and Anya’s deliciously wet pussy were too much. With a loud groan, I shot my load for the second time in one morning.

Anya kept moving her hips and was not ready for me to stop. I couldn’t believe I was fucking this gorgeous young woman in view of her friend. This day would keep me sustained even if I never got laid again in my life. And I was sure that while the day was young, it was far from over.

I continued to slowly fuck Anya until she was obviously past her climax. She put her arms around around me and kissed my neck.

“Thank you, Fred, that was delicious. I am totally exhausted.”

“This was one of the finest fucks I have ever had, my dear Anya, definitely don’t thank me!”

“You save me, then you send me,” she laughed.

My dick was definitely off-duty now as I slowly pulled it from Anya’s tight pussy and sat on the settee. Tatiana was still on her knees and shuffled over. She pushed my knees apart and said, “time to finish the job.”

She took my limp member into her mouth and sucked the combination of Anya’s and my cum off.

“Nice taste,” she said.

I was totally incredulous, I could believe my luck. And we hadn’t had lunch yet. My worst fear now was that I wouldn’t be able to satisfy these voracious women the rest of the day. It’s not like I’m an eighteen-year-old stud. Who brought the Viagra? I should have these problems more often!

Anya and I went back on deck to shower off again. If I have to run out of water, this is the way to do it, I thought. I rinsed her and myself and then we soaped each other down. Another opportunity to feel her beautiful body. After we were soaped I stepped behind her and rubbed her breasts and her pussy carefully. Can’t be too clean. No attention had been paid to her ass and I rubbed her little butt hole looking for what sort of reaction, if any, I would get. She moaned a little and leaned into my hand. Something for the afternoon, I thought.

We exchanged positions and Anya rubbed and squeezed my totally limp dick and my balls. I felt her gorgeous breasts pressing against my back, but my dick felt nothing. Anya soaped her hand and moved it between my buttocks. She rinsed the area, then soaped her hand again and slowly moved from my balls up my ass where she stopped. I felt her index finger moving around my butt hole, then she slowly inserted it. How does a nineteen-year-old know how to do all this? She curved her finger and gave me what I assumed to be a prostate massage. Never had this done outside a doctors office. My dick didn’t exactly spring to attention, but there was an awareness. I didn’t think I was much for butt experiences, but this was very exciting. So much for my delusion about being sexually experienced.

She whispered, “You like?”

“I like very much,” I replied.

“Wait,” she said and kept moving her finger.

“Look,” she said a few minutes later. My cock was slowly dripping cum.

“Prostate massage,” she said, “relieves tension. Make you relax. Now you can fuck again.”

My cock had risen again, not to fighting strength, but it could have been workable.

“Thank you for that lesson,” I smiled, turned around and kissed her again.

“You saved my life, I am yours today, maybe a few days. You can do as you want with me.”

“What about your friend?”

“Ah, she is very sexy girl, she says she loves being fucked by you, so you have double duty. But, I warn you for tomorrow. I think my mom likes you and she had no man friends in a long time, I think. So be careful.”

I thought for sure I was looking death, in the form of exhaustion, in the eye. But then, what a way to go!

I went below leaving Anya to fuss with her bag of lotions. Tatiana was putting out the lunch they had brought onto the recently vacated saloon table. She was still wearing just her little wrap. She welcomed me downstairs by giving me a hug and a kiss on my lips.

“Ooops, looks like you are still happy,” she said, giving my semi-rigid member a little tweak.

“You have no idea,” I replied.

“Yes, I do. I am more than very happy that you saved my best friend. I am a little older than her and she asked me last night if she should have sex with you. We planned this day for you. We think that maybe you will be a very happy man to be with us.”

“So you plotted my day. Lucky me,” I said.

“Yes, definitely lucky you. I don’t think you have girls like Anya and me too often. But you deserve to be lucky.”

“I never have girls like Anya and you.”

“I’m not interrupting, am I?” Anya asked. She was still totally naked.

“Put some clothes on, you slut!” Tatiana commanded with a broad smile, “this man is sensitive, you might give him a heart attack.”

“Yes, my dear friend. But he might like a heart attack.”

She walked by me, gave me a little kiss on the cheek and gave my cock a little squeeze. She put a wrap on. We all sat down to lunch. Two pair of lovely breasts belonging to two deliciously desirable smiling ladies sitting around my dining table. I love my life!

“Bon appetit,” Tatiana said, “but we have a special project for you to think about during lunch, Captain Fred. This afternoon we will lay in the sun for a while, my hyperactive friend will go out on her windsurfer again, I think. Then afterward we will have a little play, fun theater. We three will be the actors, but you, Fred, will also be the writer and director. We promise to fulfill our roles to the best of our abilities. Maybe you want to put a little sex into it. Maybe a lot. Think of all the dreams you have had, we’ll try to make them come true.”

Tatiana was the genie that came out of Aladdin’s Lamp and granted me any wish for a day. I’d have to do some serious contemplation; this was important stuff. I felt a hand in my lap. Anya was checking the effect that my mission statement had on my dick.

“Hey, Tatiana, it feels like Fred’s already thinking.” Anya said seriously.

Seriously!