Carpe Diem (4F + 1M + 1 Ferryboat)

Brigit, however, had paused with her fingers on her blouse's knot. She said "You need sunshine vitamins, too, Jimmy. Everyone does! You should join us!"

He nodded, said "Good idea, actually..." and immediately peeled off his tee-shirt, tossing it onto the little pile made by the sisters' tops. If they were going to be this genuinely casual about it, he could be, would be, too. He would NOT be outclassed by this trio. Besides (as if he needed to rationalize!), the sun's warmth did feel better on naked skin.

Brigit added her top to the pile, revealing perfect little quarter-cup breastlets, high and carrying the same curve beneath as above, their tiny pink nipples no bigger than Jimmy's own. Tiny and very, very obviously hardened by some inner excitement... or perhaps merely by the salt-sea air?

Jimmy warned himself not to stare too much – at least, no more than the "polite necessity" his campus host had defined for him - and not to do any unwarranted concluding about other peoples' internal states. At any rate, the six nominal breasts on these three pretty little women yielded less than a good handful of total tit. That paucity didn't mean Jimmy would not have enjoyed getting to know the six little cones more closely, it was just his brief internal observation.

Brigit smiled happily at him, then took off her sunglasses and scanned him up and down as he sat down and lay back again. It was a solidly evaluative look, horse-trader frank. This from such a young-looking woman! He was nonplussed, and then thankful for having been a bit of a physical fitness nut all his life. He was quite proud of his body, actually. She dropped down beside him, hitting the deck solidly with her bottom – Jimmy was excruciatingly aware that her breasts hardly wiggled with the impact.

She then turned to the others and said "Look at him! Don't you think he has nice muscles? I'm happy he is with us!" Jimmy basked in both the solar flux and the girls' approval of his body – it was a nice, unexpected little return for all the efforts in the gym.

Penny said shyly "Jimmy already has brown skin, from the sun I think – he's not as white as us, is he?" Before he could respond, Marit chimed in with her own contribution, "Brigit's right. Jimmy's got better muscles and nicer hair on his head than our FATHER, and Jimmy has to be a lot older than Daddy! Our Daddy is already thirty-eight!" Jimmy winced internally – why in the world did their school teach them "daddy" when it could sound so infantile? 'Father' would have been better... but hardly worth criticism. She added the last with an arch, sideways glance – she could see perfectly well that Jimmy carried at least two decades more than 'Daddy' - she was just testing him, twigging. Jimmy smiled and nodded, not rising to the bait – no need to answer unless directly queried.

Brigit eyed Jimmy quizzically, then reached out to touch his chest with her fingernails, turned her hand over so just the nails touched his skin, dragged them lightly across his chest for about six inches, then jerked away and giggled loudly. She was well on her way to being an accomplished flirt both verbally and physically. And she, too, was just testing, toe into the water.

Jimmy's crotch smoldered.

The evaluation of Jimmy continued, carried by Brigit - "He's not as hairy as my own father, either. My father looks like a gold-colored furry bear when he hasn't got a shirt on! You have better muscles than him, Jimmy. He is getting pretty soft, and I and Mother don't like it. We tease him, maybe too much. And I think you ARE older than him, too, as well as older than these two's father."

This last was delivered in a thoughtful, almost pensive tone – she hadn't been rude and actually asked his age, but she clearly wanted to know. He grinned, shook his head, did the math – older sister Margot = twenty-four, suggesting parents now in their early to mid forties, so he had them well beaten. He said "Probably right... can we just say I'm over fifty and let it go at that?"

They did the socially-required polite gasp and protest, and seemed genuinely impressed: a subtle change of atmosphere settled over them. For some considerable time they lay there in the sun, soaking, watching the mountains pass. The ladies included Jimmy in their distribution of sodas, candy and good bread and cheese, all from the cooler. There were only three sodas, so he and Brigit shared one, at her strong insistence. She held the icy can for a minute to chill her fingertips, then traced them over his chest again, dragging the cool pulps delicately, giggling knowingly as he shivered. He didn't know quite what to do. How was he supposed to return such a physical flirt in this crowd?

Watching them eat was nearly a self-contained erotic experience. White teeth, flashes of tongue, long slow swallowings, all seemingly a little exaggerated. More flirting? He didn't know how to be sure, much less what to do about it. One-on-one, yes, he could undoubtedly have handled it all just fine, but this 'GROUP-flirt' thing was quite a different problem! As they lay there, he managed to be reasonably discreet, hidden as he was behind his glasses, but discretion aside, his eyes feasted long and lovingly on the exposed skin, and probed both hopefully and helplessly down the long open slits of belly-beltlines. He was thankful he was still in long-pants: at least they somewhat hid his now three-quarters hardon.

Brigit stood up, walked to the rail for a moment to stare down at the water, leaning over the rail: her breasts didn't change shape in the slightest despite the re-orientation of the gravity field. In fact, her boobs wiggled not at all, and stretched out at the rail, her legs were positively beautiful, long, shapely, tapering perfectly where they ought. All of which yielded more crotch problems for poor Jimmy. When she returned, she made a point of lying down several inches closer to him than before. After a moment she nudged him with her elbow, said "Look, please." With her thumbs she folded the front of her huggers down a full belt-width.

His heart accelerated ridiculously, banged hard and fast against his ribs, and instantly his semihard got a field-promotion to FULL, and last evening's festivities were now totally irrelevant to his present state.

"Jimmy, do you like my tattoo? Can you see it okay?"

So! Miss Brigit, trying to ooze savoir-faire, was overtly fishing! But for what, exactly? She certainly was offering attractive bait, whatever it was she sought to attract. He literally gulped as he looked at the tattoos. What he could see was the tops of two roses. And by God he should have been able to see the top of her mound by now... but no, not quite. Was this completely intentional? What did he have here? A genuine Lolita? An accomplished little tease, carried away by her recently-found ability to flummox males of the species?

He eyed the roses carefully. The twins watched noncommittally, then quite politely and firmly turned away and engaged in some obvious displacement discussion.

Jimmy wondered exactly what to say, opted for the safest possibility. Truthful, too. "It's beautiful artwork! I could only see the top edges earlier, so I didn't know what I was seeing. Very fine. Quite real looking, very good colors and details. And..." he added, getting a flush of pink (finally!) from her, "... painted on perhaps the very finest canvas I have ever seen. I would like to have been the artist!"

He paused, took a chance. Dip into icewater coming, here we go! "I know for sure that I would like to see the whole painting. And the whole canvas, too." He grinned carefully, not lewdly, just a friendly comment between casual acquaintances, right? He held his breath. Now what? Her ball!

She tilted her head noncommittally, thinking.

The wait let him feel how hard his cock had grown, and how short his breath. Those did go together, didn't they? After a long pause, he asked "Is that a real tattoo, not just a stick-on picture?"

She watched his face intently, antenna fully engaged, her thumbs still holding the fabric in its fold. She nodded and said, "It's a real, permanent tattoo. Not fake, not a toy thing!"

Jimmy told her, "I never got one myself, but all my friends did. In the Marines, that is. They all said the process hurt a lot, and I remember how their skin swelled up and got rough and oozed and was horribly uncomfortable."

Brigit nodded. "Yes. All of that happened to me, also. But my skin healed very quickly and very smooth, just like before the tattooing. So your canvas was not damaged!" ("HIS canvas?" - he liked the implications!)

Her pupils expanded as she stared into him – her body was doing its level best to tell Jimmy how strongly attractive she found him. Eyes wide, she dropped her voice to a faint whisper and said "You can touch it if you like. That way you can know that I'm telling the truth. You won't be able to feel where the tattoo is with your fingers."

His cock leapt in his trousers.

She pulled the hem forward, enlarging the viewing-slit above her mound. More of the roses' stems hove into view. Leaves appeared. Still the stems disappeared into damnable shadow. She waited, then when he didn't move after several seconds, she reached for his hand, placed it palm down on her belly. Skin sun-warm, almost hot to the touch, faintly sweat-damp. Taut. When he didn't move, she slid his hand south until two joints of his fingers were hidden, then swiped them gently from side to side. "It's okay. Really! See? You can't feel it, can you?" Skin like the finest silk.

He shook his head gently.

She released his hand, whispered "Stay right there!" and shortly returned both of hers to the task of giving him a little more room, shifting and squirming to rearrange any non-existent slack in her shorts. She looked at him again and whispered "The rose stems go a long way down. You can touch it all, if you would like to do so."

Through all this, the twins were rather painfully, and very intently, "not watching".

He gave in totally, although a large chunk of his mind was urgently concerned about what might happen if someone were to appear around the corner. Millimeters farther south, he finally encountered the edge of the rise he had been seeking with his eyes. It was perfectly, deliciously smooth as it lifted from the flat plain surrounding it. He investigated while Brigit smiled encouragement, bit her lip, her eyes were now almost closed, her breathing nearly at a dead stop. Beside them, the diplomatic-corps-candidate sisters kept their backs turned (at least, mostly!), chattered on. His fingers went slowly southward, up the slope, found the hilltop crowned with the finest furze of delicate hair, nothing the slightest bit coarse or heavy, and very little of it, along the centerline only. He progressed a little more, and stopped.

She whispered "The longest stem goes a LOT farther, you know. It is a very, VERY LONG-stemmed rose! And it was a very uncomfortable thing to do! Everything down there by your hand and fingers is VERY sensitive!"

Had he ever been so hot, had he ever been so genteelly seduced by a woman, of any age and experience whatever? Anywhere in the world? He was certain the answer was 'NO!'

His moving fingertips found her cleft. She wriggled slightly. Her bush, such as it was, was silky-soft and sparse almost to the point of nonexistence. The delicate covering ended high above her clit, the lips themselves were naked, swollen, a smoothness to them indicating they had yet to grow their first real crop. Either that, or the Lady had serious abilities with a razor! The slit was woman-in-heat slippery-wet. She cocked one leg sideways, inviting, expectant, clearly well-experienced – she knew exactly what she wanted, and also how to get it.

He provided, wondering at how the shorts-fabric could stretch enough to make room for his big hand... probably via some miracle of modern chemistry.

A long, slow slithering over her clit, then her hand atop his, guiding, urging, and his finger slipped far up inside her, no obstruction, no problem, only heat and woman-lube and obvious enjoyment on her part. Others had been here, he thought, followed by "So what?" He stroked a single finger, out, in, around, testing, finding exactly the right locations and pressures and frequencies.

Her breathing stuttered and she jerked silently at his touches: he wondered if she had actually come, so easily, so quickly? It certainly felt like it! He paused, slid his arm beneath her neck to cradle her, pulled her closer to himself, hip touching hip. Partly beneath him now, she lay with lips parted slightly, pink tonguetip visible behind even white teeth. She took off her glasses, laid them beside her hip, then took off his for him. Genuine eye-contact, and not a blink in a carload.

Breathless. The pause hung there above them like a solid thing.

There was a quandary now, competing interests, one mouth was all he had, and both nipples and lips beckoned terribly strongly. He decided. Silently he mouthed the words "May I kiss you?"

She understood the silent question perfectly. She replied, for his ears only, "I think so, yes, please do. I thought perhaps you would never ask me!" Although eager, she was simultaneously aggressive and tentative. In short order, they were deep into one another's mouths, exploring, enjoying. Gently, slowly, he lowered himself over her until her BB-hard nipples were just touching his chest – he pressed gently as he slid back and forth. She was obviously happy, enjoying herself - she arched up hard against him: her breasts were as hard as her nipples. A small piece of his mind was busy suggesting that perhaps it was time to apply mouth to nipples, and to similarly explore other areas, but the kiss held him enthralled, the luscious pressures and textures of her mouth on his proving that it wasn't time to break yet, not by a damn sight.

Chest to chest, that first kiss extended to several minutes, and by its end his fingertip was deeply embedded, gently twirling the end of her womb in a small circle, exactly in time with the squeezings of his palm over her clit, and the back-and-forth exchange of long, slow kissing. She followed his lead perfectly, sucking luxuriously on his tongue when he offered it, counter-offering hers, exploring the tender undersides, the smooth ridges of his teeth.

She was startled and then enormously pleased when without any words he showed her how to breathe together, alternately through one another's noses. She liked how he tasted, somehow very male, it made her deep belly quiver. She wanted to tell him this, but didn't know the proper words – maybe there weren't any? At any rate, she certainly didn't want to break off this mind-blending kissing just to make some little speaking-noises, her tongue and lips could convey meaning more thoroughly by touch.

When they finally did break, he dropped his face to her chest, inhaled a nipple and most of the solid rise beneath it, and nursed. She gasped audibly, then clutched his head to her chest. After giving equal attention to both left and right, he stopped, expecting to return to her mouth, but found the twins had finally given in to their curiosity and were sitting there right beside them, watching intently... nothing embarrassed about it, either, just blatant curiosity.

Brigit looked up at Jimmy, then over at the twins, then squirmed sideways out of his grasp, her nipples dragging sensuously on his skin. He was puzzled by her leaving – surely she wasn't all of a sudden upset with him? It had been HER issuing the invitation to this party, hadn't it? The kissing had been delicious, as had all the other bits, and she had both invited all of his attentions and seemed to relish them. Certainly she had instigated it all, and absolutely she had responded – in spades! – to his returning the interest. Maybe she was coming to her senses and deciding to beat a hasty retreat? That wouldn't be too surprising, not really.

He needn't have worried. As she stood, she said, first to him, "You are a GREAT expert in kissing! Even in just one kiss I learned a lot, so there will have to be many more, if you would like. After all, we do have thirty hours remaining on this ship together. That is, if you care to spend that much time with us?"

Relief for Jimmy! And the 'with us' was interesting in and of itself, boding well. Whatever she was up to, it clearly wasn't the panicked retreat he had intuited. He grinned, addressed the trio: "I would purely LOVE to spend all that time with you three beautiful women."

Brigit told the little group, "I have to go away for a few minutes... not for very long, to talk with Margot. So Jimmy, do not worry, because I will be back soon." Then, to the twins she said, "While I'm gone, maybe Jimmy should teach both of YOU some new things about kissing! In our Women's Society, we are supposed to share things, you know. Especially knowledge! Here is a chance to put our ideas into practice. But don't use him all up while I'm away! I want more, so leave plenty for ME!" She grabbed her blouse and had it on and re-tied before she disappeared around the corner.

Jimmy lay there with a now-screaming hardon, his palms sweaty and his mind in a whirl. But before he could do any mental gymnastics, the twins scooted over to him, looking eager and expectant. Penny leaned towards him, holding her sister's hand, and said "Kissing practice now, please! Oldest sister, which means ME, gets to go first!"

Penny's going first didn't preclude her sister from joining in almost immediately. They necked furiously, back and forth, trading initiatives – and of the two, by far the better pupil was Marit. Not to denigrate Penny's abilities and enthusiasm. Both of them were well and truly into the experience within seconds of starting, and Marit's marked enthusiasm for all oral things wet and intimate did his hardon no damage whatever. After both sisters' mouths had been extensively explored, each presented her chest to him, clearly intending to imitate Brigit to the fullest extent possible.

There was a longish pause in the action, during which both twins carefully oriented their chests towards the sun, very sunflower-like, and basked. Penny suddenly giggled, turned to whisper to her sister... a brief confab followed, at the end of which Penny said "Jimmy, a few minutes ago you warned about sunburn, and you asked about sun-lotion."

Jimmy just nodded. She went on: "We think you are correct to be worried. We are all blonds, including you, and can sunburn easily. We need to put on lotion – especially on the most sensitive skin. Sunburn is no fun at all."

A long, pregnant pause, then Marit piped up: "Would you like to put the lotion on us? We would like that... especially if we can do the same thing for you."

Jimmy couldn't refuse: he had them lie down on their backs and stretch their arms overhead, fully exposing both sets of itty-bitty-titties, and perfectly smooth, slightly damp underarms. He first ran the flat of his tongue up and down the length of all four pits: he began with Penny, and at the first stroke she squirmed and muttered "Do you LIKE that? Isn't it sort of gross?"

He spoke without breaking contact: "Not in the least. Tell me, how does it feel to you? Bad or good?"

She squirmed as he nipped the sensitive skin and pinched with his lips whilst swirling his tongue about: "Actually, Jimmy, all of your touches feel wonderful, so I take back my question."

Within the next two or three minutes, Marit had been similarly treated, and agreed completely. "Don't EVER stop!" was her response to his asking "Enough yet, M'Lady?"

Before getting to the lotion, he spent several minutes on pits and nipples and areolas, generating a marvelous response in the form of squirmings, wriggles, sighs and giggles – plus pleas to continue, whenever he threatened to stop.