Sailing Away Ch 14

Chapter 14 -- Avalon.

I awaken to a familiar smell. Coffee. Accompanied by bright light.

Elsa is making some clinking sounds as she comes back in from the galley, a tray of coffee, cups, and accoutrements in her hands. She leaves the door open, and the morning light shines in.

She's naked aside from glasses, nipple clit and toe rings, of course.

"The captain left a note in the galley, he's gone to the harbormaster for some paperwork and to make final arrangements for the other boat. Can see it here, is plenty big. Note says he'll be busy at least 4-5 hours, and he'll text when he's closer to done." She's giving us this news while pouring for us, the tray on the counter.

"Still cream and sugar, Lacy?"

"Of course. He'll have his the same." She knew just what I liked.

Elsa set the cups by the bed, and sat back down in her place, you didn't stir, and stayed cuddled up against me.

"Elsa tried to make you cum last night, hm?"

"Yes ma'am, but I didn't. As you know."

"Such a good boy." Turning toward Elsa, you query "I think he should be rewarded, do you?" Your hand moves to my cock and begins stroking. I harden quickly.

"I should say so. Haven't had too many men turn me down for sex. As in...none. But he had a good reason." A smile over her cup as she blew on it to cool it off.

"He's a dedicated one, that's for sure. Honey, pick a number between 60 and 300."

Elsa returns a quizzical look, "That's a curious range. How about.... 65."

"Sixty five it is. Now another between one and five."

"This is interesting... I'll say two."

"Two it is." With that, you peel back the fuzzy blanket under which we slept, and return to my cock with your hand, slowly stroking.

"Alright, sweetie, it's time for your reward. I'm going to hold on to your cock. You're going to fuck my hand like it's me or Elsa. You get 65 seconds to cum. If you don't, you will wait 65 seconds, then get another 65 seconds to try again -- that's where the number two comes in. If you cum, good for you. If you don't, then you will have to wait for another chance."

Intriguing.

You grab my cock, adding a generous load of lotion from the bedside table. Elsa sips her coffee quietly, watching intently through her glasses.

I am on my back, so it's like fucking you riding me. Or Elsa... that's a hot idea. So I begin fucking into your hand, tensing my ass, working my legs. You keep the pressure on just right. You are watching the timer on your phone.

I'm trying to fuck you like I'd take your pussy from behind, hard, making you scream.

But you won't let me.

Your hand gets slowly, incrementally further away, making me work harder and harder to fuck it. And then you ease off the pressure, just...a tiny...bit.

"I dunno sweetie, 15 seconds left. Not looking good." You smirk. Elsa continues to watch.

I try to fuck you harder but I can't, the distance just a tiny bit too far, and the hand slightly loose. No matter what I do I can't get enough stimulation to squirt.

"Stop."

Time is up. The 65-second break has begun. I try to recover my breathing, my heart rate slows.

"I thought you wanted to cum. That wasn't trying very hard."

You motion to Elsa to scoot closer. When she does, you dole out a generous glob of lotion into her hand, inspiring her to take over.

"Almost time sweetie. Now you can fuck Elsa and see if you can cum in the allowed time."

Your phone beeps, and you nod to me, so I begin trying to fuck her as hard as I can. She's got a good grip, not so hard to be not-fun, but not so loose as to make me frustrated. I put my palms flat for leverage, and fuck into her hand.

Of course, you find it necessary to give her some guidance. You gently lift her hand away from the bed incrementally, a little at a time, maybe an inch or so, then gently spread her fist a fraction. Now she's doing just what you did to me.

I'm sweating. Fucking erratically, hard, like an inexperienced teenager who just wants to use his girlfriend's cunt to get off.

You hold up your phone, and I see the countdown, 20...15.... The lack of friction means lack of sensation. There's no way I can cum in time, there's just not enough stimulation.

"Time's up. No cum for you right now. Poor baby."

I groan a bit, and drop my ass to the bed, as well as my head in frustration. My hard cock, dripping in lotion, taunts me.

"The lotion will make it easier to lock back up." You hand me your key and the cage. I comply...but I wanted to cum badly, so I'm not entirely thrilled.

Dutifully I seat the lock, remove the key and hand it back to you. You know I'm upset, but say nothing, handing my coffee back to me after taking the key. You sip on yours. Elsa has a curious look, maybe even a little concerned, but she doesn't say anything.

I wipe my lotion-covered hands on my legs after locking up, and see the two of you lotion up your tits and ass individually, then return to your coffee. Your sun soaked skin soaks the lotion up equally well.

Small talk about breakfast and what we can do for the day. Talk is all between you and Elsa, I stay silent. I'm irritated, frustrated, but trying to calm down too. You've unlocked me, shown me great sexual privilege and excitement in the last few days, and one orgasm missed isn't the end of the world. When we seated the lock the first time, I knew I'd voluntarily given you my cock and its control. This went with it.

Figuring it's about ten, and we were all pretty well clean from prior shower, you two decided that it was time for some shopping. Coffee finished, you told me to return the tray to the galley and wash everything -- we were departing this boat for another later today, and it should be left clean.

I did as told. Cock about as hard as it can be in the cage, but still pissed off. I focused on doing a good job on the dishes, drying them and securing them back in their lockable cabinets, immune from sea state and motion.

Returning to our suite, you two were already dressed; shorts, t-shirts, sandals.

You had clothing waiting for me on the bed. T-shirt and shorts.

And a matching lace thong and cropped camisole set, black.

That was a pleasant finding. My irritation ebbed a bit, and I dressed. Elsa's hand lightly touched me, back, leg, ass, as I dressed. Clearly she liked the underclothing as much as I did.

Sliding my Keen sandals in place, and pulling up their retaining strap, I grab my wallet and phone and I'm ready. We head up to the deck, and I see we are tied to the dock, the famous Avalon cylindrical structure right above the port. We walk in on the pier, and find a pedal cab.

"Greetings, and welcome to Avalon, I'm Roland. Where can I take you?" Roland looked all of 19.

"First, we'd like coffee and bagels. Then will figure it out."

"Yes ma'am, we'll be there in a moment. Great place just up the hill."

Dropping gears, our chauffeur gets us up the hill to a local coffee shop. We all admire his legs and ass as he works, seeing how they are right in front of us.

Uniquely, we can use the drive through on the pedal cab. Catalina is, apparently, serious about air pollution. We all pick our preferred lattes and bagels, including those for our chauffeur. I present my credit card, of course. With refreshments in place, Roland pedals away from the coffee shop.

"Now the three of us would like to find a salon. Somewhere for pedicures."

I give you a sideways glance, but you don't return it. You have this planned.

"Right away, just a few minutes there."

We are all absorbed in our breakfast, except Roland, and enjoy the sights. From atop the hill, the air is clear enough to see Santa Barbara.

Arriving in front of a rather well to do storefront, we climb out. "Since you still have your bagel to eat, why don't you just wait for us?" You give him a friendly look with your query...friendly as in leaning forward and pressing your boobs together slightly.

"I'm happy to, ma'am, but the meter's running. Boss says so."

"Oh, that's not a problem. Is it sweetie?"

I set down my coffee, pull out my wallet, and drop $40 to him to cover the initial fees, and follow you both inside, retrieving my coffee.

You've already signed in, the place being pretty barren -- out of season, during a work-week. I follow Elsa, following you, to the back with the elevated pedicure seats.

Three attractive women attend to us, starting the warm water for soaking, opening their cases. They speak among themselves, and you and Elsa chat. I'm on the end, so I catch up on news on my phone, as I haven't so far this morning. I can feel my camisole against my skin, hidden by my dark t-shirt.

The girl attending to me efficiently strips the red polish off my feet, and begins the rest of the ritual of cleaning, trimming, filing, followed by warm foot wax and stone massage and salt scrub to legs. It's all so luxurious. Another girl brings by a case of colors. You select a red for yourself, Elsa picks a peach/beige color.

"He'll have this one."

You've picked a fuchsia polish for me. Brilliant, cream texture. More than hard to miss, it's almost fluorescent. You hand it to Elsa, who reviews it, nods approvingly, and hands it to the girl doing my nails. She looks at it, then looks to me for confirmation.

"Oh, she picked it, so whatever she'd like goes."

She focuses back on her task at hand, and places sponge toe separators, applies clear base coat, two coats polish, another of clear. I sip my coffee and catch up on world affairs via news apps. You and Elsa continue to chat, girl talk having been missed apparently.

Once the toes are done for all three of us, the women give us the requisite inexpensive flip flops, and pack up their stuff, leaving us to relax, toes drying. They aren't in a rush, we're the only customers for now, so they head to the front of the salon, and chat a bit, coffee the universal thread.

I continue with my news sites, reading the interesting articles. When Elsa checks her toes for confirmation they're dry, I check mine too. We're all ready to head out.

We all stand up in the awkward way typical for such seating, and gather up shoes.

Waving to the woman who did your pedi, you get her attention -- "do you have time for manicures?"

"Sure, come on up front, we'll take care of you ladies."

As you walk up closer to her you add "and him too. All the same colors as our toes."

She gives you a tiny smile, then checks it. "Have a seat wherever is comfy."

We all sit down at different stations; I'm on the other side of the room just due to its layout. I take my seat somewhat reluctantly, but I'm not about to say no. I put my shoes on and get comfy.

Our girls pull out the same colors we'd all had before, and go to work. Soaking, massaging, trimming nails and cuticles, filing. When it comes to polish time, my girl glances toward you, then whispers to me, "are you okay with this? You really want this color?"

I whisper back to her, "Sure, it's ok. Just think of it like I lost a bet and I'm a good sport. Can't avoid paying up, right?"

She agrees, "okay....as long as you're alright with it." She inverts and rolls the bottle again, then opens up and starts applying the fuchsia to my fingernails.

Once the first coat is on, she glances again toward you, then looks back at my nails and whispers again, "this looks really hot on you. I love this color in general, but it's sexy on you for sure." She continues the second coat, giving a final pass over the front edge of my nails, then has me put my hands under the dryer for a moment. She follows with clear coat and hardener, dries me again under the fan, and smiles, "we're done."

You two are almost done, so I head to the front to pay. My girl follows me, and rings us up. Of course it's more expensive due to being in Avalon, but worth it. I add $20 tip for your girls on the credit card, but give mine $50 in cash....with a smile.

"Thanks for being understanding. I appreciate it. Sometimes she... does these things."

"Given the opportunity, I'd do them to you as well. You look fabulous with this color on... goes with your tan. And if you have any free time while you're here....",she pulls out a business card, and scribbles upon it, "here's my cell phone."

I look to see the salon, her name (Krystal), and an LA cell phone number... with a kiss emoji drawn next to it.

I smile back to her, tuck her card in my wallet, and have a seat to wait for you and Elsa.

The two of you come up a few moments later, holding your coffee gingerly just like newly painted nails require. You both kiss me on opposite cheeks, smile, and head toward the front door hand in hand. I accompany you, and see our cabbie still waiting for us.

"Roland, do you have time to take us on another errand?"

"Yes ma'am, of course. Not much traffic here during the week, so my day is fairly open."

"My girlfriend and I would like to go shoe shopping. Anywhere special you can recommend?" We climb into the seat together, Elsa in the middle, you holding her hand still.

He seems unfazed by your title for Elsa. "Tina's boutique. Just a few minutes away. But that's generally true of most places in Avalon, there's only about 3500 people here off-season." He smiles, and begins pedaling away.

True to form, it's about 5 minutes away, and he pulls up out front. "Here we are."

"Since you don't have much going for the moment, would you mind waiting for us?"

"No problem, ma'am, I just have to let the meter run. Boss would have my butt if I don't."

"We can't have that can we? Sweetie, would you take care of this?"

I pull another $40 out of my wallet. He does a brief double take at the fuchsia cream nails, but doesn't say anything.

You are both looking at the racks of heels, oohing and aahing over various shoes you like. The store has quite the variety for a small island shop. Tina has apparently greeted you on the way in, while I was still outside paying.

I come up behind and between you both, wrapping an arm around each waist.

Elsa picks some black platform heels, bordering on stripper shoes. 1" platform, 5" stiletto heel, thin straps. Gorgeous...and pretty close to the ones she assumed were mine in our quarters.

You pick a couple, but settle on something not quite as high. Black Mary Jane's with a 3" heel. Sexy and practical both.

"Sweetie, could you take these up front and pay for us?"

I see how useful I am today.... I follow orders phrased as a question, and take your boxes to the front. Tina is at the register... must be her, she's the only one here.

She rings up the shoes on a Square terminal, commenting quietly "I love your nails...they're hot."

"Thank you," I smiled, "they picked the color."

"Hot. Very hot."

She's almost done ringing up when you come to the front with one more box. "Oh I just saw these, can you ring them up too?"

"Of course." She makes an adjustment to the register, and adds in the pair you've selected. A brief twitch of the eyebrow and a subtle smile, which she quickly subdues.

The box has size 11 shoes. Neither of you wear size 11. You're both 7. The shoes aren't just size 11, they are black shiny patent leather 4" heels, open toe, with gladiator straps and laces. That's 4" with no platform....just 4".

She adjusts the tab, and I hand her my credit card. She swipes, producing the receipt, and I sign it while she puts the shoe boxes in a pair of bags.

"Thanks for coming in, please come back next time you're in Avalon."

"Oh you can bet we will....and don't worry, he looks as great in the shoes as he does in the nail polish." You swat my ass lightly with a big smile, prompting me out the door. I carry the bags, Elsa holding the door open for me on the way out...so she can also swat my ass.

You climb in first, and I follow with the bags, Elsa in last. I see Tina through the window with a smile on her face, shaking her head slightly.

"Anywhere else?" Roland asks.

"Yes please. One last stop before we head back to the port. Any stores here for girls' clothes? And I mean something you'd want to see the two of us in. Skimpy. Lace. You get the idea."

A bead of sweat has formed on Roland's brow....and we're sitting still. "Yes ma'am, I know just the place."

Just a few blocks inland, we arrive at just what you're looking for. The sign reads "Mistress Vickie's". No other details are given, just implied.

"Okay if we leave our packages here?"

"Of course ma'am. I'll be waiting." He turns off the meter. Perhaps he's made enough off our excursion to not worry about it.

We enter, and Vickie, presumptively, is waiting at the register, reading on her Kindle. She greets us, and asks if we're looking for anything specific. She glances at my bright nails, then away. She has a feel for what's going on... but is professional enough not to worry with it. That or she understands and won't make a fuss.

You tell her you're looking for some new bras and undies, but would like to browse. She directs you ladies to one of the rooms off the front, and tells me "you are welcome to wait here or go with them, whatever you'd prefer." You give me a subtle nod, and I take a seat on the couch, taking out my phone and playing a little solitaire.

"Like something to drink?"

"Yes, I would. What do you have?"

After reciting a list better suited to most cafés, I pick a bottle of cold brewed coffee. She brings it to me and sits on the couch kitty corner to my left. She sips her cup of hot tea, and I open my bottle.

"She has you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she?"

No point in denying it. "Yes, that she does."

"You carry it very well. A lot of men wouldn't go outside dead with nail polish. It looks good on you. And so does the camisole." Another sip of steaming tea.

"Thank you. She picked it. As she often does. And how do you know what I'm wearing?"

She gives me a knowing smile, and pats my arm, her hand lingering a bit. "I sell lingerie sweetie. I can see the straps against your tshirt. Almost nobody would see them, it's subtle. And good for you both. Or the three of you as the case may be."

My phone beeps, a message coming in.

You're in the dressing room. With Elsa. I know this because I see the top of Elsa's head buried between your tits, licking between them, the same carpet behind her as in the front room of Vickie's.

My cock stirs.

Another pic comes in, and it's a selfie of sorts. You and Elsa kissing each other, tongues barely visible.

Quite hard now.

"Must be good messages, hm?" A Sean Young smile, another sip.

"Something like that, yes."

Another chime from my phone.

And it's almost time to go -- Brian says we need to meet the launch from the sailboat in 90 minutes to take us to our new ship.

"Sweetie, could you come help us a moment?"

I excuse myself from the front room and follow your voice, being careful with my cage as I ascend. I find the two of you, dressed, with a few things laid out on a counter for review. Elsa comes up and kisses me quickly on the lips....just enough to taste and smell your pussy on her lips.

"What do you think?"

There are a half dozen pairs of undies, a couple of camisoles, a few bras, and some stockings to round accompanied by matching garters in the pile. They're all beautiful of course -- Mistress Vickie doesn't skimp. "They're all gorgeous. And Brian says we have about 90 minutes to be ready for transfer, I just got a message."

"Then it's settled. We'll take them all. And 90 minutes is no problem, I got the same message...well, mostly." You show me the pic of Brian's delectably hard cock that came with the message he sent....then you and Elsa scoop up the booty, and head to the front.

Vickie knows her business -- she removes all the tags, setting them aside for tally, and places everything into tissue lined boxes, all stamped with an ornate MV logo. She totals them up on her register, and I pass over my credit card. No point in doing otherwise.