"Hello again, captain Hughes," Ben greeted the grizzled-looking, bearded older man, who stepped off his yacht cruiser and shook his hand enthusiastically.
"Just call me George," he replied in his gruff voice, "or skipper if you prefer."
"George then, please meet my wife Natalie," Ben said, indicating the 33-year-old woman on his right arm.
At 5' 10", Natalie was slightly shorter than her husband, but slightly taller than the old skipper. She had shoulder-length, dark wavy hair. The cleavage of her 34C boobs was nicely exposed by white bardot top she wore, as were her long, bare legs, courtesy of a pair of tight denim shorts. Natalie wasn't slim, but also wasn't too plump - Ben thought of her as sexy and curvaceous, and most men would agree, as did George.
"Very pleased to meet you," the skipper replied, looking her in the face before lowering his gaze to take in her bosoms and legs. Although she was used to men admiring her assets, he still made her feel uncomfortable, especially knowing she and Ben would be living in close proximity to him for the next fortnight.
***
George and his 40' yacht cruiser for hire had been recommended to Ben by a friend, who said it was a great way of cruising to the Mediterranean and back on a budget - although he and Natalie both worked (for a media company, and a flower shop owner respectively), they loved a bargain. Natalie had agreed; although uncertain about sharing their holiday with a complete stranger, she had been swayed when Ben pointed out that they'd be spending most days in various port towns of several countries.
A few weeks earlier, Ben had driven down from their home in Berkshire and met George at his boat, moored at Shoreham-by-Sea on the south coast of England in order to make practical and financial arrangements. The two had shared a drink in the dinette of his yacht cruiser, where Ben showed George a photo of his wife. George examined it closely. "That's a very sexy wife you've got there," he'd commented, "I look forward to seeing her in a bikini," he'd said with a wink.
Ben had been a little taken aback by the forwardness of the older man, but it was a turn-on knowing that he found her sexy. "Glad you like her." he'd replied.
"Does she sunbathe topless?"
"Er, she has sometimes, yes. But she might not in front of you; perhaps if she's loosened up a little with Bacardi she might." This time Ben had winked.
"I have some good weed that might help."
This was the beginnings of their plan to expose Ben's wife, Natalie on their holiday. It involved alcohol, weed, and a rigged card game, and Ben couldn't wait - the thought of his Natalie exposed in front of another man was extremely thrilling!
***
"It's quite old, isn't it, George?", Natalie commented as she carefully stepped aboard the boat, steadied by holding onto his strong hand.
"Yep, like me, it's getting on a bit," George agreed, "but it's still comfortable, sea-worthy, and has all the mod cons." He indicated the high-tech navigation equipment next to the steering wheel in the cockpit towards the stern. Ben passed their luggage to George while Natalie familiarised herself with their accommodation that would be home for the next two weeks. At the stern, behind the covered cockpit complete with swivelling seat, was a flat, slightly raised area with a low guardrail around it; ideal for sunbathing, she thought.
The skipper admired her shapely legs as she examined his vessel; he hoped to see a lot more of her before long. "Go on down below," he said, "your quarters are right at the front."
She did as George has suggested, and checked out the rest of the boat. "It's quite cosy inside, isn't it?" she commented to Ben as he followed her, carrying their two suitcases.
"Yes, very homely," he agreed. It did indeed have everything they'd need - even a small shower a small galley kitchen. Natalie did, however, notice that theirs was the only 'quarters', and she guessed (correctly) that the dinette converted into a bedroom, where the skipper would be sleeping. This meant that she might be seen by him when she had to exit their quartered to use the toilet; this was not ideal as she slept in just her knickers, but figured throwing on her dressing gown was no great hardship (although its scantiness did concern her somewhat).
***
Once everything was on board the boat set off across the English Channel, heading for the west coast of France. Natalie changed into her bikini (black briefs, and black bra with pink flamingos) to take advantage of the bright sunshine and work on her tan.
George admired her shapely form as she emerged from below; drinking in the view of her gorgeous womanly curves. She had just a small overhanging stomach, and a small silver stud in her bellybutton. He noticed that she had a long Celtic style tattoo on her lower back, just above her bottom. He aimed to see her untanned parts before long. "Feel free to go topless, Nat," he smiled. "I don't mind."
"In your dreams, George," she replied, lying on her large towel she'd laid out on the aft platform.
Although the old skipper was steering the boat from his seat in his little raised cockpit, she felt his eyes on her whenever he glanced around. It didn't help that from his position he could see between her thighs, but she had no choice but to keep her legs slightly apart when sunbathing. Ben wasn't into sunbathing, or too much sun, so spent the time relaxing on a deckchair, or reading in the dinette. After more than eight hours at sea, the skipper weighed anchor in a sheltered cove just off the coast of France, near to the island of Jersey. By that time, Natalie had gone to have a little lie down on their bed, where she had quickly fallen asleep.
"Are we all set for our poker game?" Ben asked George quietly.
The captain grinned. "We certainly are," and opened a cupboard where he had secreted several bottles of Bacardi, whisky, playing cards, and a tin containing weed and cigarette papers. He then proceeded to prepare them all a seafood platter using ingredients from the small fridge. Ben awakened his wife, and she donned an orange sarong while the trio enjoyed the meal in the dinette, along with a bottle of white wine. It turned out George was quite a good cook. Natalie sat on the far side of the small, square table, with a window behind her, George on her right, and Ben on her left.
***
After their meal, George cleared away the plates, putting them in the boat's small dishwasher. He insisted that his guests remained seated. He then extracted a pile of paper maps from one of his many little cupboards. "Now, shall we see where we'll be heading for tomorrow?" he asked, and his guests said they would. "But while we do..." he said, opening the cupboard he'd shown Ben earlier, "...a little relaxation," then returned carrying the booze and tin of weed, which he opened.
"The Bacardi yes, that stuff, no!" Natalie commented when she smelled the contents of the tin.
