By the time the first of the afternoon races was starting, the wind had freshened even more.
With my light weight, these were certainly not conditions that favoured us.
Ted managed to coach me into a fantastic start and once again had a great feeling for the wind oscillations, making sure we were always on the right side of the wind changes. But in terms of straight line sailing, we were getting burned off by heavier crews whose weight gave them more power in their rigs, however well Ted played the mainsheet.
But we were working our advantages to the absolute max. I've always been pretty good about keeping a boat upright in heavy winds, even with my light weight, I was still managing to run deeper than the other boats without giving up too much speed, and Ted made sure we made maximum advantage from every change in wind direction. In short, we were a great team, each of us bringing something different to the table and using it as best we could. And I might add, surprisingly and a little embarrassed, being able to hold on to his boardie covered erection with my spare hand as we flew to windward and jumped the waves, gave me a confidence in my precarious position as I steered from the trapeze, that I'd never felt before. It made me wonder whether my usual male crew would let me do the same; although it was a frivolous thought, never likely to be tested.
In the end, we scored a sixth and seventh in the two afternoon races in the 40 boat fleet. We were both ecstatic. Neither of us had ever done so well in a Nationals; especially given the caliber of many in the front end of the fleet. Until this day, I'd never really understood the extreme excitement of professional athletes who have a successful moment; jumping up and down, jumping into the arms of their teammates and generally showing a degree of excitement that competition has never made me feel.
But this was different.
We high fived each other as we crossed the line, both stood up and hugged each other as we ran back towards the club -- even though it required me to steer an almost out of control boat with one hand as I wrapped my arm around him with the other -- and as soon as we had the boat ashore on its trolley and got our rather uncomfortable lifevests and trapeze belts off, I leapt excitedly into his arms and hung there against him -- he with a bare chest and nothing more than a pair of boardies on and me in a small bikini top and a pair of indecently tight leggings - for way more time than was decent in a public park.
Because, as it had in the morning, the success, especially compounded by the morning's efforts had generated in us a desire to celebrate in the most intimate way. It was more than a desire. It was an urgent need.
I stripped off my leggings, leaving me with just the indecently small orange bikini pants that I knew drove Ted wild with desire; to the extent he wasn't already. I knew he now had a pair of speedos under his boardies, but the purpose of that was to help diminish the obvious signs of the erection he got in his boardies as we fooled about rigging and unrigging; the issue having been more than a little challenging that morning. It had made my grasp of his erection as we sailed a little less firm, but having seen his discomfort with the erection display that boardies with no undergarment showed, I well understood.
As much as I would have liked him stripped down to those very brief speedos I'd seen yesterday, I also well understood his reluctance to display them.
Frankly, when I wasn't using some excuse to bend into the boat to display my barely covered arse and the camel toed mons bulge between my legs to him, we were all over each other like a pair of passionate lovers -- which pretty well described us -- as we unrigged the boat and secured it for the night; really anxious to finish so we could rush back to the house for an intense fuck.
But, either oblivious to our intentions, or more likely because of them, our friends had other plans.
As we got ready to leave the park, they intercepted us and demanded we join them in the club for a celebration drink. At this point I had nothing more on than the bikini and a very short A line mini skirt; my choice of clothing being more directed at Ted than designed for public occasions. It was sort of the bare minimum that would get me in the club. Ted just had on his boardies. That wouldn't.
We tried using that as an excuse, but they knew as well as we did that Ted had a t shirt in his bag.
With as much grace as our randy bodies could produce, we surrendered to their demands.
We were no sooner in the club than James shoved a glass of champagne into each of our hands; a very full one, making clear his intent to get us pretty drunk if he could. While I had no desire to write myself off, it wasn't unwelcome as a refreshment and, after a round of clinking glasses, I found I downed it pretty quickly. When James immediately topped it up, I knew I had to be more careful and sipped slowly at the next glass, casting about for some food to go with it.
Ted and I had been standing side by side, each of us with a hand wrapped around the other's back and resting on their bum. In what I initially took to be a gentlemanly gesture, one of the guys presented me with a bar stool to sit on.
If I sound in retrospect a bit sceptical about that, it was because I soon found they had managed to separate Ted from me, if only by a few meters, and I was soon surrounded by guys. The guys were all very praising, and seemingly even a bit excited about our performance, and keen to talk to me. But it was evident none of them were looking at my face as they spoke; or at least not very much. Those standing either side were transfixed on my breasts and those sitting in front of me alternated between my breasts and the upskirt view they had of my crotch. Frankly it wasn't even much of an 'upskirt'. The skirt was too short for that and tended to expose my crotch merely by sitting down.
I've got enough of a thigh gap that, even with my legs together, it wasn't too hard to get a view of the gusset of my bikini pants and, given how narrow they were -- just wide enough to cover my unaroused labia -- I'm sure they found no shortage of visual pleasure; more so as I found I was never less than aroused to some extent by Ted mere presence nearby.
But I wasn't going to pull any 'hey, I'm up here' performance. What I was wearing had been intended to attract attention. Maybe not everyone's, but that wasn't something I could be choosy about. I can't even say I was feeling all that embarrassed. In fact, not at all. My hormones were running strongly and while thy might have been directed entirely at one man, the collateral -- damage isn't the right word; maybe sexual frustration of other males -- didn't rate highly on my concerns.
Anyhow, the males that knew me, or had come to know me over the regatta so far, were fussing around me like I was something special. James of course was determined to keep my glass full and, to the extent finger food was being passed around, I certainly was offered more than my share of it.
Slowly I noticed Ted being drawn away from me. Not as a result of any intent of his, but by his Perth colleges standing between him and me, in effect, forcing him back, step by slow step. He made a point of always facing in my direction and standing so that he could see me through a gap between the bodies, but the distance kept getting further and as it did, the number of bodies between us greater.
None of that reduced my desire to celebrate our success in the way we'd originally intended. I had the hots for Ted and I had them badly. There may have been a lot of male testosterone permeating the atmosphere of the room -- and I dare say those surrounding me, perving at me and probably taking in whatever hormonal signals I was putting out - were pumping out more than most, more so as they got drunker. But to the extent I absorbed any of it, all it made me do was want Ted more.
The conversation had been nice, and the attention nice too. But there came a time I decided I couldn't wait any longer. Ted had his eyes closely focused on me for quite a while; I strongly suspected having feeling like my own. I stretched both my hands well above my head, as nonchalantly as I could, as if working off tight muscles from the race. Then at full extension, I slowly extended my middle finger with my palm towards him; sort of a reverse flashing of the bird. Then I momentarily formed a circle with the thumb and forefinger of the other hand and brought it down over the extended finger. It all happened quickly and, unless you were intensely focused on my hands -- which I could see Ted was -- you would entirely miss the message. But Ted hadn't. With eyes wide open, he nodded his head. Then opened his palms as he mouthed..."Where?".
I mouthed back..."Beach!"
