Living on a boat is not all that it is cracked up to be, it is much better. We spend our time during hurricane season tied to a dock in Florida watching all the yachties and their carrying on's. The rest of the year we sail over to the Bahamas to dive, fish, sun and relax. Life aboard the boat is a very relaxed affair even when visitors arrive.
We had a gaggle aboard. My brother with his wife and two toddlers flew in as did my youngest daughter, twenty year old Tiffany from college. The brother and his wife had been occupying the forward berth, their sons the main saloon with my wife and I sharing the aft cabin, our normal bed. That left our daughter to fend for herself and sleep where she found a soft spot. Usually, not a problem since the weather in the Bahamas is normally beautiful and breezy.
The additional visitors had been with us almost two weeks and in that time my sex life had been virtually cut off. She was always afraid of waking the kids or having Tiffany hear us, any number of excuses were readily available to her active imagination.
We were anchored off Norman's Cay about 200 yards from the sunken, partially submerged DC3, a relic of active drug running sprees which made the Bahamas famous. The nearest boat was over 100 yards off the starboard bow and there were only the two of us in the anchorage. It was a quiet and peaceful evening as we finished our fresh lobster and conch fritters, wiping the dishes and playing a hand of cards with the kids before bed. Tiffany decided to once again sleep in the cockpit, enjoying the stars and fresh air, grabbed her blanket and pillow, kissing everyone goodnight.
Somewhere in the very early morning hours a thunderstorm blew in with some rain and just a bit of wind. I scampered out to the foredeck and checked the anchor as it came rolling by, more noise than real rain. Tiffany was tossing in the cockpit but still dry as I went back to the aft cabin and sleep.
I could just see the sunlight streaming in through the aft portholes, the boat still quiet. It was later than I usually sleep, due perhaps to the anchor drill in the middle of the night. There was just enough sunlight to see the sleeping form of my wife lying away from me with the thinnest of sheets covering her round and beautiful behind. I lookedmover to see my shorts, still wet from the dash into the rain, hanging from a locker door and I was, of course, sporting a huge woody.
Hoping beyond hope that my wife would finally give in a bit, I scooted over and spooned her, resting my arm over her tight ass and firm abs. She stirred slightly but did not push me away as usual, actually, reaching back to rest her hand on my hip. I took this as a sign of encouragement and pressed my raging member against her butt. Slowly she began lifting her leg, higher and higher until it was almost straight up. I admired the tightness of her thighs, the recent sailing having toned her body once again.
