For Bandit
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The yachtâs motor had been recently overhauled, and so should have started easily. Bandit could not figure out why it would not even turn over, let alone run. It would give a sort of half-hearted wheeze, turn about 1/4 of a revolution â Bandit could see the drive shaft try to turn â and then stop, with a sort of muffled #bang#.
She decided that the life on the High Seas WASNâT as easy as she had at first thought, but it had been pleasant sailing around New Zealand, to find various girls (and boys!) who had been willing and bisexually able. Now, in the failing days of the last autumnal calm, Bandit found herself stranded with no wind and no motor, in a VERY pleasant bay, which had hot springs on one side and a delightful beach (with a good surfing break) on the other.
She returned to the deck, and wished the either Oz or Karen was with her â Karen the bisexual surfie chick, who had seduced Bandit, and introduced her to wetsuited sex & bondage. Karen who could turn her hand to masturbation, fisting, or fixing rotten motors. Karen, the friend sheâd had a crush on in high schoolâŚabout 5'2...long blonde hair...fair skin with a few freckles on her nose...she was blonde all over.
Karen, whoâd taken videoâs (and pictures) of what sheâd done to Banditâs eager though virginal body.
âWhat would Karen do?â asked bandit to the emptiness of the bay. It was a bright sunny day, cool, but not cold, and it was clear that winter was well on its way. Then Bandit noticed that the anchor rope was pulled oddly to one side of the boat. She walked carefully along the gunwale of the 50-foot, 2-mast yacht and, sure enough, the anchor rope trailed the wrong way down towards the rear of the boat. âŚtowards the propellerâŚand suddenly Bandit realised why the motor wouldnât start â the anchor rope musta gotten caught around the ^%$#^%$ propeller shaft.
She had wanted to leave the bay, and head north, to where her daughter and son would be waiting for her, and Karen and where she could moor the boat over the stormy winter period. Oh, well, it wouldnât take her long to get the boat free, given the clear water and how shallow it was â she could nearly stand on the bottom, here.
She went below, pulling off her clothes as she did, and reaching for her wetsuit. And the smell of girlcum wafted past her nose. Karenâs girlcum and her own. Bandit smiled â how often had she cummed in this? She could remember being under a wharf, once, as some guys were walking along, all unsuspecting as sheâd been anally reamed by Karen â both in wetsuits â and she had tried VERY hard not to cry out in her orgasm.
Bandit smiled at the memory, and she became eager to put on the black smooth shiny full âlength long arm wetsuit. She missed Karen, but this wetsuit served to remind her. Bandit zipped up the front of the two zippers, which ran down from her neck to either shoulder and then saw her crotch zip was open. Her shaved vagina â Karen had done that â was clearly outlined, her skin pale against the black of the wetsuit. She tugged at the zip, but like the motor, it wouldnât move.
Bandit growled a little in frustration â would NOTHING go right today? *Sigh * Bandit decided to give up before she tore a hole in the wetsuit, and only made things worse. She looked at Karenâs wetsuit, but then an interesting thought hit her â there wasnât anybody in the bay, was there?
Well, why NOT snorkel like this, anyway? Smiling crookedly, Bandit walked up to the box where Karen kept her dildos and vibrators â Karen had made her wear one, once, out to a wetsuited rubber âballâ (a fetishistâs get-together) inside her all night, even when swimming, then lovemaking.
With the memories making her juices flow, Bandit selected the waterproof one, and inserted it into her vagina.
It had a timer, allowing Bandit to set a period before it turned on, so she would know when to âcome upâ and release her tension. With that, the end of the dildo protruding most obviously from between the lips of her wetsuited vagina, she walked to the back of the boat, swung the ladder down, then slowly descended into the water. Itâs cool bite had an instant effect on Banditâs system, emphasising the erotic, and making her nipples poke out even further into the wetsuit, and she felt her clitoris enlarge, and her vagina contract around the dildo.
Pulling her facemask on properly, she took a deep breath, and duck-dived under that water, her wetsuited legs erotically slipping smoothly beneath the water. Yes, the rope was wrapped around the propeller, all right â in the biggest bundle of string sheâd ever seen. It would take her an hour, easily, to free it. And the dildo was set for 1/2 an hour. Oh, well â this would check her concentration.
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Probationary Constable Angel pulled up and secured the velcro flap up which secured the front of her black full length wetsuit, walking purposefully down the ramp to the jet-ski where sheâd just finished launching it. She pulled on her belt, with all the âtools of the tradeâ for a Police officer (no gun, as she was a probationary constable, besides, how would you keep the water out?), and checked the items â radio, handcuffs, first aid kit, yep, it was all there.
Ok, time she went On Patrol. Angel was a part Maori, with the unblemished honey-coloured skin of her people, as well as reddish hair of her white ancestry. The effect (sheâd noticed) was electrifying on most people. Her (no exception) boss had asked her to check out a boat moored for several days in one of the many island bays around the area, as it seemed to be either abandoned or â Angel hoped the OR was the one â or it was stolen. Maybe she could make an arrest and then sheâd get all sorts of kudos at her station and sheâd getâŚ. She roared out of the launching area, more intent on her fantasies than what the yacht might actually be.
It took Angel only about 20 minutes to get to the area, and, sure enough, there didnât seem to be ANY sign of life. She stopped on the other side of the bay, looking intently through her waterproof binoculars kept in the under-seat compartment.
Ok, girl, the CAUTIOUS approach, Angel thought. Fantasies had turned into the very REAL uncertainty of approaching a strange situation, which might go either way â bore her to death, or well, she could be captured by pirates, and held down and forced to have sex with strange men and â why did that excite her so much? Angel re-started the Jet Ski. And â as quietly as this suddenly VERY loud machine would let her â she approached Banditâs boat.
Which was both fortunate, and unfortunate â for (fortunately) Bandit was happily sawing away at the fouled rope under the water (so she didnât hear Angel approach) and (unfortunately) there wasnât any men aboard the boat to tie Angel up and hold her down and force her to have sex.
But there was one Bandit, whose timer on her dildo had just run out and she felt it begin to twitch and shake within her vagina â just as the last few cords were JUST about cut through. Happy with her progress, Bandit decided that it was time to relax, rig another anchor, orgasm mightily, and then â after a short recovery â return to undo the last of the rope. Bandit half floated half swam up to the surface â and saw Officer Angel and her (sexy) wetsuit and her jet ski and Bandit stopped â floating doggo in the waterâŚwhy was this honey-skinned sexy girl stopped on a jet ski beside her boat, and why was her hand between her legs, the other squeezing her own breast?