June 27, 2009

Fuck Me on the High Seas

I don't really take requests. I'm not a deejay (anymore), and I don't have a toll-free number. (What would it be? 1-800-TROLLOP?) But I *do* pay attention to the comments, and I was thinking on these lines anyway... So, what I'm saying is that this week's contest is about boats. Anything you want on, in or with a boat—barring my standard rules and regulations:

• no sex with sea lions (or other animals)
• you and your crew must be 18 or older
• you can fuck the captain (as long as she's not your mother) but be sure that your guests do not screw any blood relations

Ta da! That's it. Post your 250-word pieces here by next Saturday morning. I tend to be up early, so keep that in mind. Use the anonymous option—we take off our bikinis and swim trunks after the poll closes. If you want a shot at riding in a skiff with me on my Trollop Salon, then put a little * after your story.

Undoubtedly, I've forgotten some important tidbit that EllaRegina or Jo will ask me about later for clarification. I like to have people who keep me in line.

Oh, what do you win? Yeah, baby, an "I'm on a Boat" button.
Anchors away!


P.S. I didn't see Shanna's post until after I put up my contest, but look! Great minds think alike!


jothemama said...

Hoi! Just because I have a keen interest in grammar...

EllaRegina said...

Nope, you done good. <---- bad English. I think you're covered.

Though, there is that gray area regarding mermaids/mermen..

Anonymous said...

Just a question, please. How many stories are we allowed to enter? I'm asking because I wrote two last night and can't decide between them!

Alison Tyler said...

I know people have done 2 before. But I'm going to limit to one from now on. Thanks for asking!


Anonymous said...


“Bring the wine, your long, legs and silky skin and meet me on the boat” was the handwritten note attached to the windshield of my car.

I was juggling a mug of coffee, car keys, my laptop and a briefcase that was filled with work I’d taken home the night before. I was running late, as usual.

We had been arguing a lot lately. Too much work and not enough play makes for a cranky relationship.

“What’s he thinking? I can’t play hooky. I have too much work to do” angry thoughts consumed me.

As I sipped my coffee and headed toward the office, my anger subsided as my thoughts drifted toward the fun times he and I shared together on the boat. The smell of the salty, fresh air as it whips through my hair and face. The hot sun, as we frolicked and played, followed by hotter nights in the cabin below. I loved the rocking, peaceful sounds of the waves lapping gently against the boat’s sides, while his tongue eagerly licked and sucked my anchored clit.

I felt my pussy contract and the growing slickness between my legs.

I hit speed dial on my cellular phone, “I’m not coming in today. I have another pressing matter.”

I reached the dock and waved a friendly hello to my familiar sailor.

He returned the wave and raised me a smile.

“I didn’t bring the wine” I whispered into his ear.

Anonymous said...


It took me a moment figure out what woke me. I was surprised I'd fallen asleep, having never slept on a boat. But, the waves had rocked the small cabin cruiser, and me, until my dreams swallowed me.

Now I was awake. I could hear the light slap of water against the hull, the distant rush of the current against the breakwall. Then I heard it, felt it. The rhythm at counterpoint to the waves, a breath longer.

My eyes popped open. Moonlight slanted through the porthole. My skin prickled in recognition, and I shifted in my bunk, facing across the cabin. The pale light bathed over Lucas, etching him into my mind.

His eyes closed, neck arched, one hand gripped the shelf overhead, the other pulled a slow stroke up and down his cock. I watched in aroused fascination, my heartbeat pulsing in my clit.

He took his time. Ever few strokes he thrust up into his fist.

I squeezed my thighs when he brought his other hand down to cup his balls. He exhaled a hushed sound, muscles bunching. I dared not move for fear he would stop. My panties were soaked.

A moan reached me when he drew his thumb across head. His rhythm increased and his face tightened in a grimace of pleasure. He curled up, both hands working cock and balls, and spent himself on his own stomach. I quivered with the need to touch myself.

He sighed, smiled, then looked at me.

"Your turn."

Anonymous said...

Fantasy Cruise

People were everywhere. Couples were sucking and fucking. Some were tied to various pieces of furniture or railings. Others were being spanked, paddled and whipped. The sounds alone were enough to blow the mind. The natural movement of the ship on the waves added an ethereal quality to the whole scene. The warm sea air was like a drug.

A glass box with a chair inside was set up in the middle of the common room. A crowd had gathered around it. There she was tied to the chair. He stood taunting her with his hard cock. He slapped it against her face; barely pressing her lips apart he teased her. Finally he grabbed her head and forced her mouth to take him. The teasing was over. Her eyes rolled back as he pumped faster and faster. He came. She smiled and looked toward the door as the next one in line entered to take his turn.

As I stood watching my wife’s fantasy being fulfilled, someone was standing behind me fulfilling mine.

Anonymous said...

Sea Legs

Carla paraded proudly across the stateroom, not weaving once.

“Look! I finally got my sea legs.”

Carla’s sea legs looked a lot like her land legs--long, smooth, and, at the moment, very naked. Her flirty lace panties had their hands full decorating a gorgeous bottom and gift-wrapping a horny pussy, and the legs had been left to fend for themselves.

In a way, it seemed a shame to tickle her behind the knees so that she’d collapse on the bed--just when she’d found her equilibrium. But John knew it was for the best.

First, he led her panties to the sidelines. Then he began to play her sea legs slowly open and closed, skillfully manipulating them so as to build the heat at their juncture ... teasing both himself and Carla by opening the treasure box; then squeezing it shut again, to simmer itself into an even higher state of arousal; now letting it feel his gaze; now leaving it to relish its own wet anticipation between sealed thighs.

She loved this game. “Oh, yes, oh, yes,” she crooned, adding the impetus of all her muscles to the prying motion, so that her body listed this way and that while John worked her like the handles of a hedge-trimmer.

Though the ship was steady tonight, their bed was soon bobbing like a rowboat in a wake. But when John plunged, face first, into the cove between the sea legs, the shriek he heard was sweeter than any seagull.

Anonymous said...

Anchor's Away

“You promised you’d try.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I endured that idiotic tour of the pineapple farm for you. You promised you’d go snorkeling.”
I stood there, like a mule. If he was going to get me on that boat, he’d have to use force.
“I went to that fancy dinner, Jess. I ate eel.”
“I don’t like boats.”
A deep sigh. One of those sighs that comes from your soul.
“We’re going snorkeling. You’ll either be the girl on the boat with the red ass everyone can see in that tiny bikini, or the beauty with the palm-print free skin.”
Most women would have gotten on the boat then. I know that. I’m not most women.
A headshake, showing his dismay at my behavior. Then his hand on my wrist. Just as he started to drag me to the hotel, I gave relented. But, of course, that was too late.
“You chose spanked,” he said, “and unlike you, I’m not one to go back on my word.”
The walk to the hotel was torture. The ride in the elevator interminable. And the journey over his lap, bikini bottoms down, ass up, was hotter than the sting of a jellyfish. He used his hand to cover both bare cheeks, spanking evenly on the right and the left, holding me in place when I started to flail. Then he pushed me on the bed and stood behind me, hard cock ready.
“We’ll try again tomorrow,” he said. “Today’s ship’s already sailed.”