Duncan Fox: Hungry spouse

The scorching sun burned down on skin not normally exposed. The slow, lazy swell from a distant power boat made the sailboat sway lazily in the dead calm. The boom swung languidly from side to side; the sail hung listlessly, unpressured by the dead air.

Jerry Anderson's skin slid slickly against the satin-smooth skin of the teenage girl under him. Lubricated by their sweat and cairn, he had the feeling he was liable to slide off her slender young body, even though he was nestled between her gripping thighs. Every breath they took made her small tits slide against his strong, hairy chest.

Breathing heavily, Jerry concentrated on all of these sensations, and on Cindy Peters' hot breath puffing in his ear. He concentrated, too, on the feel of her hot, tight cunt embracing his now limp and drained cock.

The only thing he did not want to think of was that she was young enough to be his daughter. He did not want to think about the fact that his own daughter, Judy, shared birthdays with the slender young creature pinned to the floor of the cockpit by his heavy body.

"Ooooooo, wow!" Cindy sighed under him, wriggling her hips. "Aaaawww, you're all gone away," she pouted.

Jerry wondered what had driven him to ravish this not-so-innocent teenager the way he had. How could he have fallen so low? He reviewed how it had all started.

"Gee, am I hot," Cindy sighed, leaning back against the gun whales. She still held the jib sheet loosely in one hand, even though it was unnecessary. There was not enough wind to even stir the limp canvas.

Jerry wrenched his eyes off the slender girl and looked up at the mainsail. Its only motion was a slow, lazy flapping as the small sailboat rocked on the glassy swells. Then he swept the horizon, searching for some hint of a breeze. As far as he could see, the water of the sound was as smooth as a mirror.

He looked back at the girl, and felt his throat tighten slightly as he studied her sun bleached and streaked light-brown hair. Her small breasts thrust out against the bib halter she wore. Her sleek back was a long, graceful expanse of tanned skin, and was shining with a film of sweat. Her legs seemed incredibly long – she had stretched them across the cockpit and braced her feet on the seat on the opposite side. Her hacked-off blue jeans were as tight as a second layer of skin.

"I'm sorry, Cindy," Jerry apologized. "This is a pretty dull sail. Even Sue wouldn't be seasick on a day this calm." He wondered why he had mentioned the name of his wife – self-defense or something?

"Gosh, Mr. Anderson, it's not your fault the wind died," Cindy assured him. "Besides I don't mind. It's nice to be able to relax where it's so nice and quiet, with someone you like."

"I'd think you'd prefer someone nearer your own age," Jerry commented. "I am, after all, old enough to be your father," he added awkwardly.

"Oh, no," Cindy argued. "I'd much rather be with you than someone my own age. Gee, by now if I was with one of the guys I date, we'd be writhing on the deck."

"Huh?" Jerry was jolted by this casual admission.

"You know," Cindy went on, "making love. Oh, I'm sorry, I've really screwed it up now. I didn't mean to shock you."

Hastily, Jerry tried to collect his scattered wits as he fought down the mental image he had of this delectable young girl being fucked by some damn high school stud. He shifted restlessly to conceal his sudden erection. "I'm not shocked," he lied. "I'm just a little startled, I guess."

Cindy looked genuinely embarrassed. "You really thought that I was – ah – a virgin, didn't you?"

Jerry was wrestling with a sudden discomforting thought. "I don't suppose you know if Judy is…"

"Uh-oh, now I'm really in the soup," Cindy responded, nibbling on her lower lip. She scratched her flat, tanned midriff with her long, silver lacquered nails. "Do you really want me to answer that question?"

"I guess I don't do I?" But Jerry knew the answer automatically from her response. The thought that his daughter was – doing that – was like a physical blow to his guts. She was his baby, after all!

Cindy dropped her feet to the floorboards and sat up. "Hey, I've got an idea how we can get cooled off."

Jerry was glad she had changed the subject. "Oh, how?"

"Swim, of course."

Jerry surveyed the calm water. There was no sign at all of any "cats' paws", those faint patterns of ripples created by little puffs of wind.

"Let's face it," Cindy noted cheerily, "the boat is hardly going to sail away without us."

Jerry decided swimming would be safe enough. "I guess you can swim in that outfit. I'd just as soon not get my clothes wet, though. You go ahead if you want."

"I could swim in these," Cindy agreed. "But I'm not going to. If I get these cut-offs wet, they'll shrink even tighter than they already are. Haven't you ever gone skinny dipping?"

Jerry hated to admit that he never had.

"Come on, there's no one to see," Cindy insisted.

No one except you, he said to himself. He felt his face flash hot and red. "I'll, uh, turn my back, if you want."

Cindy was already undoing her top. "Suit yourself," she shrugged, letting her halter drop and bare her breasts.

Jerry caught a brief glimpse of firm rounded mounds. They were patterned with white triangles of untanned skin, capped with tiny pink tips. Resolutely, he looked away, staring out at the flat water. It was mid-week, in late September, and there were no other sails in sight. Far off, toward Long Island, he could see the small dark spot of a motorboat. There was no one to see, but Jerry still found the situation unsettling. His heart was hammering. He could feel the boat shift as Cindy stripped down her shorts. He heard them hit the floorboards softly. The boat heeled as she stood on the gun whale for a moment. Then the boat rocked back sharply, making the lines and sails slap and flap. A spray of cold water hit Jerry's cheek.

"Oooooo, boy, does this feel good!" Cindy called happily from the water.

Jerry turned and looked down at her. As she treaded water her body was blurred and rippled. He thought he could see her pale breasts shimmering in the dark water. Drops of water sparkled on her cheeks and nose. Her long eyelashes were stuck together in sharp points, framing her laughing eyes.

"Come on in," she urged, beckoning with one graceful, tanned arm.

Jerry was painfully conscious of his erection. He shook his head tensely. "No, I'd better stay with the boat."

"Oh, don't be a drag," Cindy snorted. "If you're afraid of it getting away from us, just put out the sea anchor."

"Well," Jerry muttered.

"I'll do it," Cindy informed him decisively. She swam to the bow, her lush white ass rolling excitingly on the surface with every stroke.

Jerry lost sight of her. Then her hand suddenly shot up to grip the bow stay that steadied the mast. With a quick, graceful motion she shot up out of the water, reached out with her other hand, grabbed the bucket and rope, and pulled it overboard after her as she dropped back into the water.

Burned into Jerry's mind was the brief, tantalizing glimpse she had give it him of her breasts. He stared blindly at the coil of anchor line paying out smoothly into the water. Then her hand appeared and carefully set the rope in the bow chock. She swam back along the side of the boat and gripped the thwart.

"Now, come on in," she insisted. "I'll turn my back while you undress."

Jerry felt trapped. He was burning up, but not just from the merciless sun. His groin was knotted with excitement. He tried to tell himself that this was just a simple, innocent swim with his sailing crew, but he didn't believe it. He wondered if Cindy's confession about her lack of virginity had been as innocent as it had seemed.