As long as little John with the curly head was so eager to get his hand between her legs Ted knew she had no need of a surly fourteen-year-old who didn't know how to keep his mouth shut. She felt him still stiff, cataleptic in his effort not to come. He had been frozen for nearly half a minute.
Meanwhile John's creeping hand had reached the hem of her shorts. Instead of trying to get under the impossibly tight leg he contented himself with exploring every contour of her crotch through the tight-stretched cloth. Imperceptibly, she forced the boys farther apart and opened her legs slightly to facilitate John's reconnaissance.
Why, she wondered, did it feel so wonderful just to have a boy's hand feeling her crotch? Forbidden fruit, she guessed, the element of excitement and danger with Albert glowering only inches away. Probably it wouldn't be nearly as exciting if she and little John were both naked and in bed with uninterrupted hours to work out their fantasies.
But this was so frustrating. She couldn't actually do anything with either boy-not so long as the other was around to glower, to interrupt, to tell tales ashore. Truly there was safety in numbers. She remembered the first doubtful look when the lady gone-to-far with a stationwagon full of kids had learned that Ted was not a man. Obviously Miss Stationwagon of 1941 had known there was safety in numbers. She had not hesitated to entrust the souls and bodies of these would-be studs to Ted. If only she knew!
She would know, Ted suddenly knew. The whole world would know if she didn't give Albert, the sullen fourteen-year-old enough forbidden fruit and enough hope for more next time… Boys liked to talk and brag. And Ted had lived long enough to know that when it comes to gossip, some women can keep a secret but no man can ever.
Albert was just beginning to relax after nearly a minute of gritting his teeth and straining with the effort not to cum. She was tempted to touch his cock again and force him into another spasm or better still, make him cum. But if he retired from the competition in disgrace-if he were to learn that even now the younger boy was out pointing him in every way. If Albert's fourteen-year-old pride were hurt there would be no silencing him. Somehow she had to bind him to her. And there was only one thing she had that he wanted. How could she give him a free sample without running the same risk with the little boy? A disappointed thirteen-year-old's reaction would be even more childish.
Damn! she thought. Why had she ever let herself in for this? It was still not too late. All she had to do was stand up and go below for a minute, leaving the pair stiff-pricked and empty handed. Maybe it would be best that way. But that soft warm hand in her crotch felt-so nice.
Suddenly she felt another hand. Little John had turned and devoted his full attention to her. Swathed in blankets, she wondered if either boy knew or guessed what the other was up to. What, she wondered, would happen if their hands met under the blanket?
Albert was still fumbling with her halter. At that moment she finally felt the knot slip loose. He gave a relieved sigh and twisted back into a more natural position, one hand at his side as the other finished untangling her halter straps. Meanwhile, little John's hand had abandoned her crotch. Both his hands were struggling with the waistband button of her shorts.
Little John's lightning maneuver had so surprised her that Ted had not managed to let her hand fall on Albert's straining crotch again. One mad corner of her mind wondered what would happen if she were to drop all this pretense and just plain unzip their pants, grab their cocks and squeeze until the boys were both empty gasping wrecks.
It would all be over in seconds, she knew. And afterward… She didn't know. Would they be shamed? Would they be relieved? It was hard telling what lengths a boy would go to in the effort to salvage his pride. Probably they would convince themselves she was some kind of degenerate. Sure as hell they would talk about it. God, would they ever talk.
Little John's hand went down into her halfmasted shorts searching for her crotch. She knew from his sudden hesitation that the curly-headed thirteen-year-old had not expected to find panties. He had thought he was home free, ready to romp in the elysian fields of her pubic patch. She now felt almost sorry for his disappointment.
Meanwhile Albert had finally arrived in tit territory. His hand under her parka crept around her midriff and crept slowly up until he was cupping the bottom side of one of her firm, upward pointing tits. Gently, as if he hoped she was still unaware of his presence, his fingers crept toward her nipple.
Ted leaned forward and caught the bell rope again. The fog was thick but at the masthead she could see a pearly luminescence that meant sunlight was only thirty feet away. The fog could burn off or blow away any minute. She pointed upward and explained this fact to the boys.
Albert took advantage of her upraised arm to cup, her full firm tit in his hand. Ted wondered how many times in her life she had felt somebody else's hand on her tit. Mostly she wondered why it had never felt this good before. But this had to end. In another minute they'd have her naked. And the name of the game was to get them to take their clothes off first. That way she would gain some sort of psychological advantage. Somehow she suspected that it would not be in her best interests to be anchored in the middle of nowhere with a couple of ghetto boys who knew they could get away with undressing her. The solution was amazingly simple once she thought of it.
She grasped the waistband of her shorts firmly. "You boys stay here and keep ringing the bell," she said. Before they could prepare themselves she stood. The hip length parka concealed the loose waistband of her shorts. From the waist up she was fully covered now that Albert's hand had come out. "I'm going below to put on something warmer," she said. Before either boy could move she had cleared the cabin scuttle with one magnificent arabesque. She slammed the slide shut behind her and latched it from the inside.
She drew curtains across the portholes, made sure the fore hatch was bolted from inside, and only then did she peel off the parka. Her unlatched bra came off with it, leaving her clad only in bikini panties since her unzipped shorts had settled to her ankles the instant she let go of them.
Despite her hurry she stopped an instant before the full length mirror on the door to the head. Her body really was something! Her tits stood proud and firm. Full contoured, but they hadn't even started growing until she was almost nineteen. Her tiny waisted, ballerina body was still hard muscled but she had filled out until she was no longer a dancer. Now the was a woman, fully developed, with long straight legs capable of tempting a cardinal. Her ass was well rounded but firmly muscular, without an ounce of flab. Her late-grown tits were big enough now but still pointed defiantly skyward as if she were twenty instead of thirty nine. Her hair grew long and straight, braided now to keep it out of the way when sailing. She knew if she were to peel down her bikini panties the hair down there would match the glossy almost black of her waist-length braid. Definitely, her body was built to be used. She toyed with the idea of tossing one of these little brats overboard.
No use. She couldn't do it. Even, if she were capable of such a beastly idea she knew it would take all the bulge out of the other boy's' crotch if she were to start acting like some mate-devouring mama spider. What was she going to do? Nothing, she guessed. Sadly, she found a pair of jeans and began pulling them on.
She found an old jersey then remembered she had lost her bra. Rummaging through drawers, the first she found was a full-cut bra with the hooks in front between the cups. She grinned at the thought of Albert going slowly insane trying to find them. If the boy was from the ghetto, chances were he had never even heard of a front latching bra. She put it on, hurriedly pulled on a jersey, found some socks and boat shoes and was puffing her parka back on as she opened the cabin scuttle to go back on deck.