First Time (part 1)  

rm_thorvaldsson 44M
3 posts
6/2/2006 7:35 pm

Last Read:
2/12/2008 5:47 am

First Time (part 1)

Let me know what you think.

The summer after grade 11 summer I took the sailing school at the yacht club down the road, which is where I met Diana.

It was Natal Day weekend, beginning of August, and there was a regatta a the club. I'd volunteered to work tender duty, ferrying members to their yachts and back. It was mid-afternoon, hottest part of the day.

She was tall and dark-haired, maybe early thirties, and wearing a loose light windbreaker and bikini bottoms. The windbreaker was only half zipped, and every time the tender rocked, her chest swayed. I was standing, a little behind her, and I couldn't stop staring into the shadowed valley behind the zipper of her jacket. She leaned forward to check something in her bag, and another two or three inches of full breast slid into view -- I was holding my breath for nipple, but it didn't come. It was driving me crazy not to be quite sure, but it looked like she wasn't wearing anything under that thin nylon shell.

She looked up and caught me -- my eyes snapped away instantly, and I flushed. I was embarrassingly hard. I shifted to try to hide the lump, but the little steering column was not much for concealment.

Diana was the first woman I'd met who wasn't afraid to stare at me. We happened to be alone on the tender, having just dropped off Dr. Blackburn and his wife, and she looked me up and down until my cheeks were burning red.

"Hey, kid, what's your name?"

"Neil," I said a little uncertainly.

"Neil, do you have a softball stuffed down your shorts?"

I just burned hotter. At sixteen, there was no way I could answer that question.

She didn't say anything else -- just looked at me and drew the zipper of her top down another indecent couple of inches, though not *quite* enough to show me any nipple. Her mouth opened a fraction, and she moistened her lower lip. And then we were arriving at her yacht -- her husband's yacht -- whatever -- and suddenly I had to pay attention to what I was doing again.

The tender bumped the side of the Green Fish quite a bit harder than I liked.

She got up and crossed the tender to board her yacht. I tried not to watch her move; I tried not to stare at her jacket; but failed miserably. And the jacket stubbornly refused to gape open, except for one glimpse of skin that showed no bra strap. She stepped up onto the gunnel of the tender, one hand on the yacht's ladder for balance, and stopped. Lightly balanced there, she turned and asked, "What time do you get off duty, Neil?"

"Um, four-thirty."

"Come back then, then. I'll get you a drink."

I just stared at her. I didn't know what to say.

"It's customary to respond when someone makes you an invitation," she said ironically.

"Um, yes?" I blurted.

She gave me a look I didn't know how to interpret, and disappeared into the cabin without looking back. She had a nice butt, too.

A beautiful, adult, shapely woman had just flashed me some tit and invited me back to her yacht. Vague visions of unknown sexual possibilities surged into my brain, and I instinctively began working to convince myself it was no big deal, that nothing would happen, that nothing would happen. Self-defence against disappointment.

The next few hours passed in a bit of a blur as races ended and competitors came in for the banquet. As it happened, though, I only got out as far as the Green Fish a couple times. Once, she was on deck, sunbathing in a yellow string bikini. The second time she was below decks, I guess, because I didn't see her.

When I got off shift I borrowed a dinghy that I wasn't really allowed to take, but no one was around to object. The post-race barbecue was getting going, and most everyone was on the front terrace. I rowed out in a wide loop into the Arm and curved back in behind the Green Fish, feeling utterly exposed the whole way. Any number of people saw me, but no one was paying attention. Or else they just didn't care. I found I didn't care either -- my brain was sure I shouldn't be doing it, but my cock overruled it. It takes up a lot of blood when it gets hard, and it was painfully hard now. I had to pause a couple of times in rowing to try to think boring thoughts, because I didn't want to arrive so stiff I couldn't stand up.

Diana was leaning over the railing when I arrived, back in the windbreaker again. She had a bright green drink in her hand.

"Welcome aboard. Can I get you a drink? Beer, coke -- I've got a margarita."

"Beer," I said as boldly as I could manage. I was not much of a drinker at that age, but really didn't want to seem too high school.

"Blue or Keith's?"

"Keith's," I said randomly.

She went down into the cabin and nodded for me to follow, so I did. I stood there kind of awkwardly while she cracked my beer, not knowing what to say.

"You looked good rowing over."

I blushed again. "Um, thanks." I didn't really believe her -- at that age I was pretty gawky.

"I haven't seen you around before. New here?"

I'd been in the sailing school for a month and had been hired for odd jobs shortly after, and I told her that, and where I went to school, and some other biographical information. She made some small talk about racing and boats and club gossip, and asked me a few questions here and there. I tried to answer with as much sophistication as I could muster, but frankly was too nervous to say much. I think I mostly drank too fast and tried not to stare at her cleavage.

Abruptly she took off her windbreaker. She was still wearing the string bikini. I think it had the smallest top I'd ever seen, in person I mean, and she filled it pretty well. Her tits bounced as she hoisted the jacket over her head, and I was instantly hard again. I sat down to try to hide it.

"It's kind of warm in here, but it's good to be more private, don't you think?" she asked.

...continued in First Time Part 2.

angelofmercy5 60F
17881 posts
6/2/2006 9:50 pm

Welcome to the blogs! WOW! Good post!

rm_thorvaldsson replies on 6/3/2006 6:49 am:
Thanks! Part 2 is up -- check it out.
First Time Part 2

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