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came together... came apart... totally... completely... Hmm... we stopped to gain some breath... but he didnt leave me... he stayed there... in me... Then... we started again... and again... "Julie... "... I said much later... "What...??" "I said... Julie... thats my name you know... "... ps... i said that when he was in me... now isnt that one good way of telling your partner your first name!! The project was a success... Somewhere between the romps on my table... and later his couch we did end up doing the work... a lot of more work... since it wasnt possible to let others enter our rooms... considering that only shoes were allowed inside... and off course... some special lingerie on demand... As Im writing this Jack is trying very hard to attract my attention... he has on a very strange pair of under-things... it covers his butt... but his rod is out in the open... all 8 of it!! Gotta go... its time for another verification!!
Dressing for the annual Yachtsmens Ball, Dave stares intently into the mirror as he ties his white bow tie, the finishing touch on his tuxedo. He smiles at the image. He doesnt look too bad for 39. His hair is graying, but not receding and while his face is slightly wrinkled, he has retained his youthful grin. With his 6 foot 5 inch frame he is still naturally good at being tall. Turning to his right he takes in the vision of his wife, Jean, who is just getting into her ball gown. It is a black, sleeveless gown with an oval window that reveals just enough of her two assets to drive any males mind to wild fantasies. Jean works the zipper up her back, the fabric shimmering hugging her hips and waist, accenting her curves, drawing attention to her beautiful figure. Stepping over to help her with the last third of the zipper his fingers trail along the warm skin of her back and his lips gently kissing the back of her neck as he fastens the clasp. Thoughts of their first Yachtmens Ball when they were still dating drifted into his head. Jean had worn a black velvet dress with a silk aqua marine lining. The dress had a long slit up her left leg and a very low cut back that showcased her smooth skin. His mind drifted back to that night. His stomach felt the nervous butterflies, of taking a such a beautiful woman to a formal affair. At the table drinks were served and Dave placed his napkin on his lap and his my right hand brushed across the slit in Jeans dress. His hand lingered under the table and wandered over to her leg, feeling the lace boarded at the top of her stockings and the clasp for the garter belt. The salads were served and Dave ate quickly as the discussion, lubricated by ample liquor, moved from the difficulties of sailing Orca to the mundane intricacies of sail


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trim, to the topic of women. Dave finished his salad and his hand again descended below deck to Jeans partially exposed leg. Carefully his hand moved under the fabric of her gown and slowly moved up her thigh. Under the silk , he felt her toned muscles from years of horseback riding. Above her stocking the warmth of her skin on his hand was quite a turn on. Her legs parted slightly and his hand was drawn further up her leg, seeking more warmth. It reached the point where her leg stops and Dave could feel the heat from her loins. His pinky brushed over her panties and could feel her wet pussy through the silky fabric. “The secret to trimming the spinnaker is keeping a two panel curl and continually playing with the sheet, always keep it moving, teasing it in and out. Just like pleasing a womans pussy,” Paul said across the table just a little to loudly after a few too many drinks. Dave froze. Did they know what he was doing? He moved his hand back to his napkin and glanced over at Jean who was smiling, her eyes bright and sparkling. “With language like that, it is no wonder you dont have any women crew members,” she tossed back across the table with a wide grin on her face. “No, its because women are distractions,” Bill the owner said. “We want the crew thinking about the boat and the race, not how to impress some young woman in hopes of getting her in the sack.” “Oh, but surely the guys can concentrate on sailing fast during the race even if there were women on board,” Jean said coyly. “I doubt if any of the crew could possibly keep his mind off getting his hands on a sweet young thing like you,” Bill retorted. Dave looked down at his plate, his face turning red. “Well, I wouldnt even have to be on the boat to influence some peoples minds,” said Jean, smiling broadly. She was enjoying the attention and continued, “I can communicate my wishes to Dave without even being present.” “Hmmm, I bet you could. I bet you can. You could write him a love letter,” said Bill. Jean stood and wrapped her arms around Daves neck and said, “I dont need to use words to tell him what I would like.” She excused herself to go and powder her nose and was joined by Bills wife and Pauls girlfriend. Soon the dinner was over and awards for the fastest boats in each division were handed out and the band started playing. Dave and Jean made their way to the dance floor that swirled with color, the women in their bright gowns contrasted by the black of the mens tuxedos. After the dance Jean said she wanted to go outside for a smoke. Dave didnt smoke but he would have followed her to hell to roast marshmallows so naturally he followed her outside. At the exit of the ball room, Jean turned and asked Dave to