Sex on the Beach I: Here be Pussies

By Lucy Sky

Young, gorgeous and sex-crazed Kylie and Oxana join Derek on his yacht, giving him the time of his life. That time ends soon, though, when Derek's wife Cassandra appears in the next harbor, kicks her husband off the ship and invites the girls on a cruise around the Caribbean. The girls, figuring that spending their time on a boat in the Caribbean beats freezing their perfect butts off in the European Winter, accept the invitation and soon find themselves on the slippery slope that leads into sexual slavery and an endless tingling of their wanton pussies. Derek, however, is plotting for revenge and he won't settle.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lucy Sky
• Release date: Apr 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476029481

Lucy Sky

woman | lover | friend | partner | sub | bitch | slut | daughter | journo | cyclist | aunt | good girl | free climber | sister | teaser | cunt | cocksucker | exhibitionist | writer | dreamer | servant | snowboarder | feminist | missing-sock-in-the-laundry-searcher | mom | skivvyAnd when I'm not otherwise tied up I love to write about the times when I'm tied up.And in case you have any valuable information as to the whereabouts of the missing socks, please let me know. TYVM.

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Sex on the Beach

Published by Lucy Sky at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 Lucy Sky

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Chapter 1 - Oh ... shit! 


Hello. Err ... who are you?

Good morning. His wife, the blonde woman with the big sunglasses replied and nodded towards the cabin.

Oh ... shit! The young, slender girl covered her small breasts and was painfully aware that her micro panty barely covered her vulva. She was also painfully aware of the fact that it wasn't only pulled into her slit, creating a nice camel toe, but also caked in her juices and the cum of her lover, which was, unfortunately, the woman's husband. Apart from that she wasn't aware of a lot of things, which was partly due to all the rum she had drunk the night before and partly because she had just untangled herself from her friend and their beau.

Yeah, 'oh shit' pretty much sums it up, doesn't it? The woman watched the girl scratch her head as she tried to figure out what the appearance of her lover's wife might imply. Apparently she didn't come up with much, for she sat down on the opposite bench on the aft deck of the 'Artemis', crossed her legs self-consciously and looked quite lost.

I ... err ... well ... I guess ... I'm sorry ...

Nah. You're not sorry, honey. You have no idea yet what being sorry means. But no worries, you'll learn about that soon enough. What's your name? The woman smiled warmly at Kylie, but the tone of her voice made it clear that she hadn’t come to exchange pleasantries.

Kylie.

OK Kylie. Go and wake them up. And please, she said to the girl when was about to go down into the cabin, put something on. I don't really want to talk to your slit.

The girl blushed, stooped over to step down the steep ladder to the cabin, bending her legs sidewards, aware that otherwise she would expose much more than just her slit and the crack of her ass. Not that she minded to expose herself. Not at all. As a matter of fact, for the last couple of weeks she had seldom worn anything, or more than the skimpiest of bikinis. But she felt naked enough in the presence of this woman.

Oxana, Derek, wake up. We've got a problem. They stirred in their sleep but since they had had even more Cuba Libres than Kylie it wasn't until ten minutes later till they were coherent enough to realize what the problem was.

In the meantime, Kylie had put on a large shirt that covered her ass, at least as long as she was standing, struck her head out of the hatch and looked at the woman who still sat quietly on the padded bench, looking around at the marina.

I guess I better start packing ...

The woman turned and smiled once more. No, my dear, that's exactly what you shouldn't do. But please make some coffee; I think you all might need some caffeine. She put her sunglasses on her blonde hair and Kylie saw that she had the bluest eyes she had ever seen. For a minute the two women looked at each other, one smiling friendly, not mad or sad at all, the other confused, not sure what she should make of this. A slap on her face and some insults to the effect that she was a slut who didn't have a problem sleeping around with married men would have been easier to deal with. But this calm friendliness was hard to cope with. In the end Kylie smiled too, although hers wasn't a calm and warm smile, but rather a weak, insecure one.

Kylie kept turning to look at the woman as she prepared the coffee. She looked good in her beige linen dress, a long skirt with slits almost up to her hips, expensive, strappy sandals, the clasp of a black lace bra flashing from between her matching linen west. Her nails were perfectly manicured, her hair cut in a stylish and fashionable shoulder long haircut which perfectly matched her delicate facial features. She was beautiful and she also had class, which was obvious. 

The cafetiere was hissing and blubbering steam by the time Kylie returned from the tiny toilet, where she had washed her face, brushed her teeth and hair and managed to get herself at least halfway presentable. Her pussy was still sticky and smelly, though.

You want cream and sugar with your coffee?

No, I don't want any coffee. Just make sure the lovebirds get their asses out of bed and come to me. We've got things to discuss.

With a cup of black, strong coffee in her hand Kylie once again went to the cabin with the large berth. Guys, get up. Your wife's here, she told Derek and Oxana. This time there was a reaction. Derek got frantic, searching for his clothes, while Oxana scratched her ass and mumbled something to the effect that stupid jokes was the last thing she needed right now, what with that hangover she was suffering from.

Honey. It's no joke. She's sitting on the aft deck, waiting for us. So far she seems to be pretty relaxed, but I wouldn't count on that to remain like this, so you probably should get your lazy asses up.

Oh shit! Oh shit, shit, shit, shit! Derek yammered.

The blonde was less than sympathetic. Yeah, should have thought about that before you decided to nail us, Kylie said and left the two to get their asses in gear.


I take it you've spent the last couple of weeks fucking my husband? The woman asked once Kylie was sitting opposite her and was slowly getting into motion as the caffeine streamed through her body.

There wasn't much use denying that. One look at at Kylie would have convinced the blonde that there had been much more going on on the ship than what should be expected from a married man. Also, the woman apparently knew much more than she should have or could have, even. But Kylie had already decided that it wasn't her problem. After all, she hadn't cheated on anybody; she just had screwed with someone who happened to be married, a fact Derek had failed to mention to his two gorgeous playmates.

Yes, he picked us up in Myrtle Beach.

Uh huh. I see. Once again the woman flashed her nicest smile, showing a row of perfect white teeth. And? Did he fuck you properly? Is he a good fuck?

That really isn't her business, Kylie thought. But then again, maybe it is. Either way, she'd be out of here as soon as her coffee was finished so she could just as well be honest.

Hmm, to be honest, he was a bit out of his depth with two gals like us.

The woman silently chuckled and extended her hand. My name is Cassandra. Pleased to meet you, Kylie. In this moment Oxana clambered up the steps from the cabin, put her coffee on the deck and rubbed her eyes. 

Good morning, gorgeous, she was greeted by Cassandra. 

Err ... good morning, Ma'am. She shook the older woman's hand, as confused about the politeness as Kylie was, and plunged down on the bench beside Kylie, wearing a pair of very short cut off jeans and a bikini top. 

I hope my beloved husband will join us soon. We've got a lot to discuss. Cassandra looked the two girls over. Tall and slender Kylie with her small but firm breasts, her crotch peeking out from beneath the shirt whenever she uncrossed her legs, still barely covered by the red micro bikini bottom. On her left Oxana, shorter but just as slim and fit as her friend, her dark, almost black hair and tanned skin a reminder of her Latino heritage. It was hard to tell right now; what with the girl squinting her eyes against the bright light of the tropical morning sun, but if she wasn't mistaken the girl had beautiful big doe eyes.

Oxana pulled up her legs, obviously not bothered too much by the fact that her jeans were cut so short her vulva was only covered by strap about an inch wide, showing dark skin on either side. 

Two lovely, sexed up babes. Arm candy. Heartstoppers. Some people would call them sluts, but Cassandra wasn't one of them. They were just gorgeous girl who enjoyed life and liked to fuck. Nothing wrong or slutty about that. They had just done what lots of girls their age do, except that they had fucked the wrong guy. For which they would pay, as would her husband.

After a minute of silence in which the girls slowly sipped coffee, waiting for Derek to make an appearance or Cassandra to say something, Oxana finally spoke.

I'm sorry. I mean, well, we didn’t exactly know he was married ... but ... well, we kinda figured anyway … She stopped and looked at Cassandra, then went on Again, I'm sorry.

Yeah, Kylie chimed in. Me too. Really sorry. It was obvious that the girls weren’t native English speakers. They were probably Europeans. Germans, or Dutch or Scandinavian. Still, their English was pretty good.

But that wasn’t what surprised Cassandra because she already knew exactly where they came from and what had brought them to the Sates. More surprising were their apologies. She had expected the girls to lay the blame on her husband, to deny that they had known he was married or even accuse her of being a bad wife. Instead, they both had taken their blame and apologized. Not that it mattered. She didn't want any sympathy, nor did she expect an apology. 

And where did that leave her coward of a husband, who didn't even have the guts to show up?

Yeah, love, don't worry. I'll survive. So will you. Not too sure about my hubby, though, if he doesn't get his ass up here soon, she giggled. The two girls wondered even more what this was all about.

Finally Derek appeared, wearing shorts and a shirt and looking awful, his face flushing a deep red as he looked at his wife. She cut him off with a brusque gesture before he could say anything, then got up, took his head in both hands and kissed him passionately on the mouth.

The girls looked at each other as they saw the bulge in his trousers growing. He had fucked the whole night, or at least until he passed out from all the booze, yet here he was, sporting a formidable erection again. And could they take advantage of it? Could they lay him down and ride him? Could they feel him pound into their throbbing cunts? Could they at least suck him off?

You bet they couldn't. All they could do was watch mesmerized as Cassandra started to rub him, then her hand gliding beneath the shorts, stroking him until he moaned loudly while the pussies of the girls started to tinge and moistening their panties and jeans respectively.

Cassandra didn't stop, stroked Derek's cock until he came in his pants, oblivious to the fact that they were standing in plain daylight on the aft deck of a sailing ship moored in a busy harbor and in plain view of everybody who wanted to look.

She pulled her hand out and wiped it on the leg of his shorts. Good to see you, my love.

Derek still was at a loss, but apparently she didn't expect him anything to say. Kylie, would you please be so kind to fetch a coffee for my husband?

As soon as Kylie was back, bringing not only a coffee but also a couple of Aspirins, and Derek was nursing his coffee, the elegant woman got down to the business at hand.

OK, ladies and gentleman. Listen, and listen good, for I will only tell you once what I've got to say and I expect you all to fully cooperate. She looked at each of them, waiting for everybody to look back and give her the attention she demanded. We go on a cruise.

Kylie was the first to react. Err ... I don't think I want to go on a cruise.

Yeah, I'm aware of that. Quite different to sail down the coast fucking a guy and go on a cruise with the same guy and his wife, isn't it? It obviously was a rhetorical question, because she continued before anyone could say anything. But, since it appears to have slipped your attention: It wasn't an invitation. We go on a cruise and you all come along. And to make sure you don't go anywhere or do anything stupid; I have here your passports and your purses. She bent down, opened the large bag at her feet, took out their purses and passports and flipped the first open. Let's see: Oxana Rodriguez, eighteen years old, citizen of Switzerland, probably the daughter of Spanish immigrants, tourist visa expired three weeks ago. You have any idea how long it takes until you're sitting in the next plane to Zurich International Airport if I report you to the authorities? Wanna go back to cold, foggy Zurich to freeze that beautiful ass of yours off or do you want to spend the next two or three months cruising the Caribbean? Again she didn’t wait for a reply. She opened the other passport and looked at Kylie. Then we have Kylie Loss, from Dusseldorf, Germany, just turned nineteen a month ago. Your tourist visa also has expired, although only a week ago. I bet Yucatan is warmer and sunnier than the Ruhrpott. Again she flashed them her nicest smile. 

The two girls looked at Cassandra for a minute, until they both cast down their eyes. She was, after all, right. November wasn't the best of times, neither in Zurich nor in Dusseldorf, and there were at least three more months of winter and cold and grey to expect. Spending those three months on a sailing ship in the Caribbean was for sure the better prospect than to freeze their feet and