Bareboaters

Bareboaters: The Cocktail Party

A Jim and Mary Story

Jim and Mary have taken Isobel with them on a sailing vacation. By now they are having threesomes, but Mary would like to have Jim to herself for a while. Another boat, the Coq D'Or, anchors in the bay. On their way back to their charter boat from a trip to the beach they invite the crew of Coq D'Or, Jack and Pat, to come aboard for drinks.

The afternoon went by happily enough. The anticipation of visitors from the other boat anchored in the bay brought out a cooperative streak in the two women. They prepared plates of food and hunted down glasses and napkins. There really wasn't much to do. Entertaining on a boat, although it can involve complicated culinary feats, generally runs more along the lines of ripping open a bag of potato chips, opening a jar of salsa and serving drinks. In fact more effort usually goes into the drinks than the food -- a reversal of the priorities most people observe on land.

After some discussion they decided on gin and tonics, despite the fact, or may be because of it, that two nights ago that very same cocktail had led to a cut lip, three orgasms and a temporary change in the crew's life style.

But most of the conversation was about who the couple on the other boat was and what they were like. The possibility of a romantic entanglement for Isobel seemed to have somewhat evaporated with the revelation that Jack had a partner already. But the histories and living arrangements and why's and wherefore's of other sailors have ever been a source of speculation at sea.

Scarcely an hour before the get together was due to start, and certainly before the sun was over the yardarm, there was a new revelation. Pat was a man. There were two men on that boat -- Jim had seen them both come up to the bow of the ketch to inspect the anchor and fiddle with a snubber that had been attached to the anchor chain.

"Hey, Mary," yelled Jim down the companionway to the two women laboring below.

"What?"

"There are two guys on that boat."

"What do you mean 'two guys'?"

"Pat's a guy. She's a he!"

Isobel stuck her head through the companionway hatch.

"You mean there's two guys on that boat? Not a man and a woman?"

"Ah, well -- there might be a woman -- but I just saw another guy."

"What's he like?"

"He's just a guy, Isobel. What's the matter? I mean why does it matter?"

"Oh, it doesn't," said Isobel. "But what's he like? You don't think they're gay, do you?"

"How the hell would I know? They weren't doing anything. They weren't having sex on the foredeck."

"Oh, don't be so stupid. Did they look gay?"

"They were just hanging out on the deck. How do I know what gays look like?"

"Well they'd better not be."

"Would it matter if they were?"

"Yes, of course it would. I'm not going to get all tarted up if there's no point because your friend Jack is schtupping his friend Pat."

"Maybe they're bi. You could go for that, couldn't you?"

Isobel was silent. Then she laughed. "Only if I'm on the front end of the train."

"Don't be so crude."

"Well, it's true. Don't be a prude."

"So are you going to get tarted up or not?"

"Yes, she is," said Mary, "otherwise she's going to be all over you again tonight."

"Ooooh -- that was nasty," said Isobel.

"Or under me - I don't mind which," said Jim.

"It wasn't supposed to be nasty -- but we need to find you someone else so that I can have my husband back for a while."

Isobel laughed again. "As long as it is just for a while."

"Oh, you can share him, but I need him for some action tonight, all to myself."

"In that case let's get me tarted up and see if I can lure one of these Coq D'Or guys."

Isobel went to the locker next to the fore berth and pulled out some clothes. She held a dress in front of her and swirled the skirt around her legs.

"How about that? Do you think that'll lure a sailor?"

"Umm -- no. I don't like the neck. Too plain. You need something to draw attention..."

"To what? To what little I have? I don't have any tits worth talking about."

"They're not going to be talking about them. They're going to be looking at them. No, I meant your neck and down to the top of your breasts. You're really pretty. You've got such nice skin. We need to draw their eyes there."

"Oh, I like that idea!"

"What else have you got?"

"There's this white silky thing with lace round the neck and long sleeves."

"That'll do. It's nice and low round the neck. It shows you off nicely."

"Skirt?"

"Mini-skirt. The black one."

"Don't you think that's too tarty?"

"Not if you wear panties."

Isobel giggled. "OK, if you insist."

"Those guys will be all over you."

"Do you really think so?"

"Are you kidding? You'll be a knockout. I don't know what I'm going to do with Jim, though. He's going to want to get his hands on you too."

"Then you'd better see you're done up to the nines! If he sees you looking gorgeous he won't be interested in me -- you've got a much better figure than I have. I'm just flat and chunky."

"I don't have anything sexy to wear. I just thought we'd be on the boat for this vacation and getting naked with Jim would be sexy enough."

"Then you should try something different."

Mary rummaged through her locker, pulling pieces of clothing out and holding them up for Isobel to see.

"None of this stuff," said Isobel, "is going to do the job. Here -- try this."

She handed Mary a skimpy piece of cloth.

Mary squeezed herself into the yellow tank-top.

"It doesn't fit."

"Of course it doesn't. That's the point."

Mary shifted her breasts around under the material until they were more or less contained by the fabric.

"Oh, Jesus," said Mary. "I can't wear this."

"Of course you can. And here -- wear this peasant skirt but roll the top so it's shorter."

"I'm so embarrassed. I look like a slut."

"Yes, you do. At least you will when you've got some make-up on."

Isobel applied powder, rouge and a virulent red lipstick to both of their faces.

"Are you sure about this, Isobel? I've never worn stuff like this before. They'll think we are tarts. I'm going to take all this stuff off."

"No, don't do that. Call Jim. Tell him to come down here. No, wait. I'll call him."

"Jim! Come 'ere!"

Jim appeared at the head of the companionway.

"Jesus fucking Christ! You're gorgeous, both of you"

He leapt down the steps and pulled Mary to him, kissed her on the lips and fondled her breasts through the thin material.

"My God, Isobel. You look like a..."

"Like a what?"

"...like a million dollars." He put his arm round her and pulled up her mini-skirt.

"At least you've got panties on."

"Jim, we can't have people coming on the boat with me looking like this," said Mary.

"Why not? You look wonderful."

"I don't mind you and Isobel seeing me like this -- at least, not now I don't. But these other two men you're bringing over..."

"Mary, sweetheart, you look wonderful. Don't worry about them. They'll think you were sent from heaven."

"If you are sure, then I guess I'll wear it. But I still don't know what Jack and his friend are going to think when they see us."

Mary needn't have worried. After the Coq D'Or's dinghy bumped against the swim ladder and the two men came aboard, they behaved like perfect gentlemen, apart from a discreet "Jesus, will you look at that," whispered by Pat to his skipper as he climbed aboard.

The crew of the charter boat were all smiles as they welcomed their guests, made them gin and tonics, quite strong ones - Isobel's idea -- and settled them in the cockpit. Jim and Mary sat on one side and the two men sat together opposite, until Isobel brought the last plate of snacks and wriggled her way in between them.

Jim watched the three people opposite him. Jack was the handsome seafarer, lean and tanned with crow's feet crinkling his leathery face and grey hair tied in a pony tail. He chatted easily with the crew of the charter boat, asking them where they had been and how they came to be sailing together -- interested but not nosy, happy to make conversation. Jim could imagine that given the chance of a few hours of conversation and a couple of convivial drinks, they could be friends for life. At least, that was the first impression that Jack made.

Jack didn't just talk to the male of the couple as so many sailors would have done, but took care to engage Mary, smiling at her and drawing her into the conversation. Mary relaxed enough that she stopped worrying that her tits might escape from her tank top. She leant forward, toying with her cold drink, and enjoyed the pleasure of a new face that could keep up a good conversation. Much as Mary enjoyed having Isobel to talk to she had to admit that most of the conversations with her were inane, and that discussions among the three of them on their boat were not much more interesting.

Isobel had directed her attention to Pat and was turning on the charm. She wasn't a natural at it, thought Jim; her conversation was often rude and intrusive, and was just as likely to piss someone off as to make a friend. But Pat seemed to be enjoying the attention that this incongruously dressed middle-aged woman was giving him.

Pat was probably in his mid to late twenties and a contrast to his shipmate. Jim wasn't sure where he was from -- he looked Irish, and he had a trace of Irish brogue heavily overlaid with some sort of whiny east coast inflexion. He had a flat pudgy face and was overweight; more reddened by the sun than tanned. Jim did wonder if maybe Isobel was right and that Pat's soft and tender body was what kept Jack happy in his bunk at night. They were such an incongruous pair it was difficult to think of another reason why they would be together. On the other hand Pat was either doing a good job of humoring Isobel's attempts at engaging him or he really was interested, because he never took his eyes off her. Jim couldn't help noticing that Pat's eyes kept straying to Isobel's décolletage, so maybe the wardrobe was working.

"What happened to your lip?" asked Pat.

"I had an accident."

"How was that?"

"I fell down the companionway."

The ungainly visitor was sympathetic. Isobel could imagine that if it had been Pat that fell down the companionway he might have gone through the bottom of the boat.

"It can be difficult to keep your footing when the boat's moving. You have to be careful."

"Actually," said Isobel, "we were at anchor, but I'd had a few drinks and the boat only seemed to be moving!"

Pat laughed.

"Oh dear, that's not good -- does it hurt?"

"It's a bit tender."

"You need a bit of ice on it -- it'll numb it and make the swelling go down."

"So it won't hurt when I kiss somebody?"

He laughed. "Not if it's numb enough. Is that a possibility?

"Don't know yet," she said, leaning into him.

He fished a piece of ice out of his drink and rubbed it on her lip.

"Ooh, that's nice. Get another bit."

He pulled out another large ice cube, but while pressing it on her lip it slipped out of his hand. It fell down into her cleavage and disappeared.

Isobel squealed and spilled her drink on her blouse.

"Oh, shit -- that was cold. What are you trying to do Pat?"

Pat looked stricken and blushed crimson

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to let go of it. Are you OK?"

The wet fabric clung to Isobel's stiffening nipple and molded to the outline of her breast.

"It's just cold and - Oh, my God - how embarrassing." Isobel looked down and giggled. "Mary said this blouse would attract men, but she didn't say anything about having to wet it first."

"And where's that fucking ice cube. It's killing me."

She lifted up her blouse just enough for the melting lump of ice to slide out and bounce on the floor.

It brought a laugh from everybody. Jack wanted to dab her dry with his kerchief but Isobel good-naturedly slapped him away.

Isobel and Pat got on famously after that. Mary was relieved to see that they seemed attracted to each other. Pat had horses at home and Isobel was suddenly interested in horseflesh in a way that she had never been before. If she'd ever told any of her friends that she had a fancy for horses they would have laughed at her. But that she had a fancy for Pat's amiable and slightly chubby frame was soon obvious. And Pat, who didn't seem like the most touchy-feely guy anybody had ever met was beginning to be quite tactile.

Isobel put her hand on his knee. "Do you wear spurs?"

"Oh, no! I ride English. You know -- dressage and show-jumping. That sort of thing."

"I like to ride too," said Isobel thinking back to what had happened on the beach, and enjoying the fact that he was running his finger thoughtfully along the back of her hand where it lay on his knee.

"Really! Maybe we can do it together sometime."

"Oh, I hope so."

Mary was enjoying her conversation with Jack, too. Her gin and tonic had helped her self-consciousness about her tank-top and she was beginning to enjoy Jack's tales of his journey from the East Coast of the United States. Jack had sold his insurance business and set off with his then wife for a life of voyaging in the Caribbean. Jill, the wife, had tired of the adventure quite quickly and left Jack to complete his travels with a succession of companions drawn from friends, family and people he met along the way. Jack was a talker, not a strong silent lone sailor, and he liked to expand on the characteristics of his erstwhile crew members, especially now that he had a couple of drinks inside him.

Jim had liked him a lot to start with, but now he was beginning to wonder what it was about the guy that didn't seem quite right -- it was nothing he could put his finger on. Jim shrugged off the feeling. Mary, on the other hand seemed fascinated by the increasingly voluble sailor.

"I picked up this woman in San Juan who had put her name on the marina bulletin board to crew a yacht in the Caribbean. I met her in the bar at the marina and she moved aboard that night as cook/crew. There were a couple of things that she hadn't told me. One was that she couldn't cook and the other was that she was an alcoholic nymphomaniac. I could cope with a non-culinary sex goddess but not one that was drunk and abusive and fucking the daylights out of you all at the same time.

"So I put her off in the Virgin Islands."

"My God," said Mary. "How did you cope?"

"Oh, I can do it three times a day easy."

Jim laughed, despite himself.

"I mean the cooking," said Mary, blushing with embarrassment at the thought of him doing it three times a day but also because she knew that the thought was making her nipples hard and they were distorting her skimpy yellow top. Jim rubbed her back gently in sympathy, but all that did was make her breasts sway under the thin material.

Jack said "I lost a lot of weight," and laughed.

Pat interrupted the conversation and rescued Mary from further embarrassment by telling them that he was taking Isobel to show her over the Coq D'Or.

As she climbed over the rail into the dinghy Isobel showed everybody that she was still wearing her panties. Judging by the amount of tugging he was doing Pat seemed to be having trouble with the fit of his shorts. Soon they were settled in the inflatable and powering off across the water.

"They seem to be getting on OK," said Jim.

"I'm surprised," said Jack. "I never thought he was into women."

"You mean he's gay?" asked Mary.

"It's just that as far as I know he's never had a girlfriend. He seems more comfortable with his horses."

"Maybe Isobel will give him a ride instead -- Ooh, no God I didn't mean that. What am I saying?" She turned almost purple and hid her face in her hand and then looked up laughing. Mary was so focused on getting her competition for Jim out of the way that the catty comment just slipped out.

"Oh, I'm sorry. That was terrible. What will you think of me?"

"It won't change what I think of you. Don't worry." He paused. "I have to tell you that seeing the three of you fucking on the beach was just the most arousing thing I have ever seen."

"Shit," said Jim, under his breath.

"Oh, no, you didn't see us did you? Oh, please, no -- say you didn't!" wailed Mary, red faced and appalled.

Jack laughed again. "It's all right. It was nice and it looked like fun. I don't disapprove you know. In fact I wouldn't have minded joining in. And that's how I know that Isobel really can ride."

"Well, it was all very well what happened," said Mary, regaining her composure. "But it won't happen again. I'm glad she's gone off with your friend. I want my husband for myself for a bit."

Jim put his arm round her and gave her a squeeze and kiss behind her ear.

"You've got me whenever you want me, sweetheart."

Jack, a little drunk and emboldened by what he'd seen on the beach said, "You've got both of us if Jim wouldn't mind."

"Oh, my God. I can't believe I'm hearing this. Why did I ever say anything about Isobel riding? I should keep my big mouth shut."

Jim was also getting over his astonishment at the turn of the conversation. There had been astounding changes in his sex life already this week but Jack's proposition that they also include him seemed to take too much for granted. On the other hand a completely new side of Mary had been emerging, so he decided to see what she would do.

"It depends on what Mary wants," said Jim. "I'd never force her into doing something she doesn't want to do. Mary?"

Mary was looking at him, horrified.

"Well, sweetheart, what do you say?" asked Jim, massaging her tit through the flimsy fabric.

She pulled his hand away.

"You must be joking. What's got into you? You don't think I'm going to fuck Jack because he just showed up and you think it's a good idea? No way!"

Jack smiled. "That's OK. Forget I mentioned it."

"Yes, let's," said Mary.

Jim was quite pleased that Mary had rejected such a bald proposal from a stranger, but now realized that Mary blamed him for her being propositioned by the man in the first place.

"Well, I should be going," said Jack. "You guys stay and enjoy being together."

Mary was not pleased at that idea either. She had no intention of staying on the boat with the man who had just tried to give her to a stranger, especially since the man who made such a generous offer was her husband.

"Why don't we take you to your boat," said Mary. "And then we can leave you there with Isobel. I'm sure she'll be more accommodating than I am."

They climbed into the little dinghy, cranked the outboard and headed in the direction of Coq D'Or.

On the way Mary said to Jack "I'm sorry I was so rude. But you did take me by surprise and I had been looking forward to some time alone with my husband."

"Don't mention it," replied Jack. "I'm sorry too. At least come aboard when we get there and I'll show you around and we can have a drink to return your hospitality. And we'll keep Isobel aboard and entertain her if she'll stay. Then the two of you can have some time together."

The dinghy touched the ladder and Jack climbed aboard and made the painter fast.

He reached down and gave his hand to Mary and helped her onto the ketch. As she boarded she gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Sorry," she whispered to him.

"It's OK," he murmured back.

He reached his hand for Jim and helped him aboard as well. He put his arm round his shoulders.

"Sorry, buddy. I didn't mean to cause a problem."

Jim thought Jack's familiarity presumptuous, but for Mary's sake he said, "Oh, that's OK -- don't think about it."

They followed Mary who was heading down the companionway into the cabin.

"Well, for God's sake!" she exclaimed.

The two men crowded behind her and peered through the door.