I sat in the car wearing a small, tight-fitting string bikini with just the tiniest robe that was trying its best to be a cover up. At the wheel sat an eighteen-year-old boy dressed in the casual garb of a ship's captain. We were on our way to his dad's boat for a day of sailing.
"And you must always say 'bulkhead,' never 'wall,' and port is left and starboard is right," his lecture on nautical nomenclature continued ad nauseam.
"Yes, I know. You told me that two blocks ago," I finally interrupted. "What I want to know is why you convinced my husband to send me with you, today. What's this thing you need help with? You said on the phone that Jake needed me."
"Yeah. Like I told Marc, Jake and I have something you need to help us with. It has to do with his girlfriend."
"Yes?" I brought out tentatively, afraid of what I was going to hear next.
"Oo! Oo! Flash that guy in the car." Sam shouted. "Hurry, before the light changes!"
"Oh, god," I said in resignation as I undid my seatbelt and shifted in my seat to present my chest to the window.
My movements caught the eye of the Mustang's driver, and I quickly pulled the narrow cups of my top to the side. The light changed, Sam sped away, and I recovered my nipples and settled back in the seat.
"Great!" Sam was excited. "That was so great."
How I, a married woman more than half a decade his senior, came to be in this situation is a long story. Suffice it to say that it all began when I accidentally saw Sam naked, coming out of the shower. Well, it was decided that I had incurred a certain...debt. His friend Jake saw it happen, so he was in on it, too. Well, the three of them, my husband and Sam and Jake, decided that to pay the debt I had to show myself to them. Marc stood me in front of the two boys and removed my dress. I was mortified, humiliated, but it might not have been such a big deal, such a life-changing event, had it not ignited something in Marc. He found that he really liked showing me off to others, and I found I loved him too much to say, "No." Things got both strange and complicated after that, as the boys saw to it that other debts were incurred, and made me promise to pay them. On top of the debts were often added penalties for minor infractions, and my promises to pay them became more and more complex. No, complex is not the correct word at all, because the promises that brought me to this point were so simple, actually, that they could be printed on a small anklet which even now hung above my foot, tickling and teasing me. "Anything," "No limits," "Anytime," "I promise," were the words inscribed on it, and on my conscience, my strict conscience which makes me keep every promise, to the letter.
We pulled into the marina before Sam answered my question.
"Liza," Sam said, "I want you to leave your robe open as we walk to the boat."
I knew what that would mean, and an anxious knot formed in my stomach. The bikini was so tight, and made of such a salacious material, that it outlined my pussy lips and defined my slit as if its purpose were indeed to call attention to my pudenda, not cover them. The docks, even on this weekday morning, were bustling, but I held my tongue, gathered my courage, and pulled the sides of my robe apart as I got out of the car.
"Actually, maybe it would just be better if we left it here. You won't need it on the boat, anyway." Sam slid the robe from my shoulders and down my arms. The outline of my nipples became visible as they strained against the flimsy material of the top, still firm from their recent airing. He threw the robe into the car, shut the door and locked it. "Yes, that's better. Much better." He looked me up and down with a delighted smile, but I could only cringe at the thought of my appearance in this tiny bikini with a small purse slung over my shoulder by a strap, and matching high heels.
He held me at the waist as we walked. I encircled his waist with my arm in turn, not knowing what else to do. I wanted to cover myself with my hands, move my purse to my crotch, but I knew I couldn't; that would violate the terms of the deal. The gaze of the men walking toward us never left my body. Those working on their boats beside the dock stopped to watch us pass. I tried to look nonchalant, then fixed my eyes on the horizon, then watched my feet for a while, all the time hoping that surly the next boat must be his.
"Sam, please tell me what you want me to do," I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer.
"Hi, Liza!" Jake called from the yacht at the very end of the dock, waving enthusiastically.
"Hi, Jake!" I yelled back, waving with my free hand.
The blonde in the denim skirt and t-shirt beside him waved, too. The distance between us caused an awkward pause between initial greeting and actual arrival, and it also served to make worse the anticipation of their first recognition of my nipples and pussy against the fabric of my bikini.
"Well?" I prodded Sam.
"You see Lynn, there?"
"Yes."
"Before the day is over, I want to see her naked. You are going to help us."
"What? How? Does Jake really want you to see his girl?"
"Of course," he replied naturally. "How to do it we haven't a clue. We'll come up with something, though, and you'll help."
'Oh, god,' I thought to myself. 'My life just gets more and more bizarre.'
Jake and Lynn were exchanging chitchat and friendly laughter as Sam and I grew near. I studied Lynn's face and searched for the expected shock at my attire, but her soft smile never changed as we were finally close enough for formal introductions. Sam had me remove my shoes before I stepped aboard, and it occurred to me that I hadn't been out of the car five minutes and already I'd lost two articles of clothing. I feared what else I would lose before the day was over.
Lynn offered me her hand as Sam and I came aboard. I shook it marveling at its delicateness. She was delicate all over, actually. She was short, tiny in very sense. If I hadn't been told she was eighteen, I would have taken her for a twelve-year-old. Under the half t-shirt that exposed her cute little tummy, I detected only the slightest suggestion of breasts. The denim skirt rode low on her hips, in the style of preteens who want to look grown-up.
When I released her hand, the most extraordinary thing happened: she slipped it inside the waistband of Jake's shorts, and down the front. From the bulge it was obvious that she had a handful of everything down there.My eyes became as large as saucers, but I said nothing. Jake winced slightly, but otherwise made no show that he had just been grabbed by the balls. Sam acted as if he didn't notice at all, but I thought I detected a flash of envy.
"So," Lynn said to me, "Jake and Sam tell me you posed naked for them."
I expected the subject to come up, but I didn't think it would be the first thing out of her mouth. From the inflection of her voice I couldn't tell whether she was questioning me, insulting me, or challenging me. I just stared at her; my jaw dropped.
"Well, uh...I had to," I stammered under my breath.
I looked to Sam for help, but he was determined to be a silent spectator. I didn't expect much from Jake, assuming that something probably had him by the tongue as well as elsewhere.
"What?" Lynn asked.
I couldn't tell whether she hadn't heard or was simply incredulous. I didn't know how to respond.
"Did you really?" She prodded.
I saw her hand shift inside Jake's shorts. I was sure she was squeezing her boyfriend, but he was silent, obviously trying hard to pretend that nothing was happening down there.
"Yes," was all I could manage. I shrugged my shoulders in a display of confusion and resignation.
"Yes? You mean you did? It's true? You really went naked?"
Her expression changed from quizzical to delight when I gave a simple nod.
"Lynn, why don't you take Liza below and help her stow her shoes and purse while Jake and I get underway? She'll tell you all about it, I'm sure," Sam finally spoke. "Oh, and find some sun block for her, too."
She drew her hand from Jake's crotch and, with that same hand, took me by the arm. Her fingers were wet. She led me from the cockpit down a short ladder to a large and well-appointed area below decks. I stood and surveyed the compartment as Lynn searched for the lotion. A small table by a radio transmitter with charts on it was to the side, and I laid my things on it. A couch was along the far bulkhead, and a galley was on the other side. Passageways leading to small berths were at the corners, and even a tiny toilet could be seen in another compartment. I could hear the boys' voices above, shouting to one another about ropes and this and that. I felt the boat rock and an engine start. I braced myself against the table and held onto it as we got underway.
"You'll get your sea legs," Lynn remarked and smiled at my uneasiness. "First time?"
