Every year around May I do a charter for an owner who takes his family and guests to watch the F1 Grand Prix in Monte Carlo. I first did this charter 6 years ago, and I have been asked to do it ever since. Maybe I should explain how I work. Very briefly, I look after what, on a commercial cruise ship, would be called the ‘’hotel’’ functions- guest rooms, bars, on-board and on-shore entertainment, facilities including things like dive equipment, speed-boats, jet-skis , sometimes food, and so on, the non-technical aspects of a yacht. Exactly what I am contracted to do depends on the size and crew complement of the yacht- the smaller it is, the more each crew member does, the bigger, the more specialised each crew members role becomes, just like in a Company I guess. I crew on the very large private motor-yachts (no sails!), usually based in the Mediterranean, and typically 40m or bigger, although sometimes smaller, but not often as they don’t need someone like me on board . The crew, me included, is not hired by the person who owns or charters the yacht usually. We work for a company ( ‘’mine’’ is based in the UK) who provides all the services for such yachts, from crew to fuel to port charges etc. The charterer or owner only has to show up and get on board, the company does the rest. However, the owner can of course request certain crew members, and if they are available the company will hire them for the charter. That’s what happens with me. The owner liked the work I did, and asks my employer to hire me. The same for the captain and I think some of the other technical crew. For tax purposes I have a company registered in the Bahamas for which I ‘’work’’, and the Yacht Services company contracts with my company to provide me. Sounds complicated, but Simon, my hubby, set the company up for me, and it works well in practice. Of course, now that I am based in SA and not in Italy, I have to pay my own airfare to wherever the yacht is, but it’s still worth it financially. I get paid there in Euros, and my tips are in Euros, so it’s a lot on money coming in! Also, I like the work and it keeps me on their books. So I flew out to Nice, via Paris, on Wednesday night. And that’s where this diary really starts (and it’s long, so sit down and relax!) The yacht I was to crew on is a fairly new (2010) 68 m motor yacht. It has accommodation for 20 guests in eight cabins (master suite, 4 guest King suites, 2 standard suites, and 1 twin cabin) ,with 4 decks ( from the lowest :Accommodation deck ,where the suites and below which the crew quarters are and where the 9 m tender and the 7 m rescue RIB are housed at the stern, with dual doors to access the wet-deck; Main deck where the lounge and entertainment areas are; Bridge deck which has extensive outside areas and obviously the bridge itself; and Sundeck on top where the plunge pool is, and an elevator from the lowest deck to the Sundeck. We carry 19 crew when fully crewed, and she has a range of 5000 nautical miles and a top speed of 16 knots, and a cruising speed of 12 knots from 2 x 2000HP Caterpillar engines. (I want all the male readers to be VERY impressed with all this detail. I went and wrote it all down especially for this diary!! Normally I can tell you exactly how many towels we have and how much champagne, but not the rest, so I made a point of finding out because guys on SH kept asking about such stuff!!) The décor is mainly light coloured wood, with brown and tan fittings and in some areas green leather suites, and cream carpets throughout with grey or blue marble in the bath areas. I think it’s quite a bland colour scheme, but each to his own I guess. I was told that the owner’s 18 year old daughter from his first marriage had a lot to do with the colours, so maybe interior design is not a career she should pursue. For interest, and in case anyone wants to buy something similar, it’s yours for 60 million Euros. Cash. So get out your credit card and call me!! Part 1- The flight to Paris Simon (my hubby of 1 year and 5 months, but who’s counting?) has a friend from law-school, Hilton, who handles his private legal work. (He uses a different company for his business work in SA). Hilton is a lovely guy- very kind and gentle, and really funny. He is married to Merle, and they have 3 children, all grown up. What’s more, many years ago, Hilton and Simon got into the swinging life together when they were single, just out of university, and when Hilton got married he introduced Merle to it, and they have been in the life ever since. They don’t play much, maybe a few times a year, and Simon and I have played with them, just swopping, for a few years. Simon also did some swopping with them with previous girlfriends, so it was a bit awkward for them when he married me and brought me along, but we soon sorted it out. (Happy to say that I am MUCH younger than any of his previous girlfriends!). Hilton is in his late 50’s, plump, bald and wears glasses. But he has huge stamina, and when we play he can go on for ages, much more so that one would think. Merle describes herself as a’ ’Yiddish soccer-mom’’, and I guess that that’s as good a title as any. She is very pretty, 45 years old, also plump, with a mass of blonde highlighted hair and blue eyes. She is pretty enough that guys look twice, but still very motherly and cuddly. After they got married she was Hilton’s secretary until the kids were born, and has been a ‘’home executive’’ ever since. She is super-bubbly, always smiling, a great cook and a devoted mother. And since she discovered swinging she likes nothing more than having a number of guys fuck her really hard in quick succession. At parties, she will find a few (sometimes 2 sometimes 4 or 5) guys, go to a room, and have each one fuck her for maybe 10 minutes, in a variety of positions. She will have one fuck her first on her back, her plump little white legs in the air, then the next doggy, then her on top, then standing and so on until she had had enough. It’s quite a sight to see, and she loves having people watch her, so we often stand around as she gets on with it, panting and puffing with exertion, sweat dripping off her, her hair plastered to her forehead. She has nice plump boobs and a clean-shaved pussy. She never sucks a guy, only her husband. (She says that this is the mouth she uses to kiss her children and she doesn’t want another man’s cock in it!) When she is done, she will sit around naked and chat, eat and drink as though it’s a village tea-party, her legs neatly folded because her pussy is tender. She is quite a character! Hilton tends to play with just one or two women in a night- I think he is more comfortable with just swopping, rather than a full group party. Anyway, what does this have to do with me going to Paris? Well, Simon said that Hilton was also going to Paris, and would change his flight to fly with me on Wednesday night. Hilton is very wealthy, having made lots of money with Simons investments over the years, where he bought into the various business when Simon bought a controlling share in them. As their children are out of the house, he is happy to treat himself to luxury when he travels, so he flies First Class when he goes overseas. My birthday is next month, and the day before I left Simon said that he had upgraded me to fly ‘’La Premier’’ with Air France to and from Paris! I was SO excited! I have only flown First Class once, many years ago when I got a free upgrade, and it was a real adventure. So now I was to fly with Hilton in First! Very larny! Simon dropped me at ORT, and I checked in at the La Premiere desk, red carpet and all, and swanned my way through to their lounge, where I found Hilton having a snack. I decided that to honour the occasion of my First Class trip I would not wear my usual travelling clothes, but something more suitable for my new status! (I normally wear jeans and a top, and I have a pyjama set I change into when the lights are switched off so that I can sleep comfortably. Pink long pants and pink long-sleeve top and white bunny-ears slippers! Don’t laugh! I got the set as a present from a friend years ago, and they are so comfortable that I have used them ever since.) This time I wore a short black knitted dress with boots, and a fake-fur bolero jacket. It can still be quite chilly in Europe, so I had a pair of gloves in my carry-on hand-luggage and a fake-fur Russian cap if it was really cold. I got myself a Coke and some snacks, and sat with Hilton and we chatted for a while. Simon had of course told him that he had booked me First Class, and I was delighted to find that we were sitting next to each other. First Class on that Air France flight (the A380 cabin) has only 9 seats and of them only 2 pairs are next to each other, the other 5 are single seats at an angle, 3 in a line on the left and 2 on the right. Came boarding time and we went to the gate, through the Frist-Class priority lane, and to the pointy-end of the plane. I love teasing Hilton, so I made a big deal out of sitting very close to him in the lounge, giving him lots of kisses, and putting my arm around him as we walked, wiggling my bum in my mini-dress. He is of course a lot older than I am (30) (he is Simons age (63)) so he got a lot of looks with this obviously much younger woman hanging onto him! We were seated in the 2 rearmost adjoining seats, although ‘’adjoining ‘’ is a relative term, as there is a huge island-table between them housing all sorts of things. Drinks, dinner and lights-out- that was the plan. I won’t go into the detail of the dinner other than to say it was superb (as it should be at R120k return!).The crew made up the beds for us and after endless fussing with more drinks and coffee and chocolates and stuff, turned off the lights and closed the partitions. There were only 4 other people in La Premiere, a couple in front of us, and one guy to the left front and one to the right of us, but because of the size and layout of the cabin the seats are quite far from each other . When everyone was quiet, I got up and went to the bathroom to change into my pyjamas, and the crept back to my seat/bed, and lay down to sleep. It really is like being in a proper bed, fully flat, pillow, blankets etc.- stunning- I could get used to this! But I couldn’t sleep! I tossed and turned, thinking of all the stuff I had to do for the cruise when I arrived in Nice. It didn’t help that I was also very horny for some reason- not sure why, but I was. So, I decided to rectify this! Hilton seemed to be asleep, so I lay there for a while, thinking about stuff. Then I slid out of my bed, and crept round on the floor to his side. I knelt next to his bed, lifted his blanket. I knew that he had changed into a tracksuit, so I put my hand on his leg, and let it travel up his leg to his cock. I felt it, soft and relaxed, and started to massage it gently over his tracksuit. Just as it stated to get hard he awoke with a start. He sat up and looked at me sitting next to him, my hand on his cock. I smiled at him, and he started to laugh silently, his whole body shaking as he tried to keep it quiet. I put the blanket over me, and put my face near his cock. Pulling his tracksuit pants down, I stroked his cock, feeling it getting harder and harder. I sat up a bit, still under his blanket, and took it in my mouth. He made a soft sound and lay back, so I started to give him a really nice, quiet blow-job. After a while I took my head out from under the blanket and looked around. No-one had stirred, and all seemed to be sleeping. It was also very dark, as no-one was watching a movie or reading. I pushed Hilton to one side of his bed, and slid in next to him, on my side, facing him. I played some more with his cock, and I felt his hand on my tummy, sliding down till it got to my pyjama pants elastic. He lifted it, and slid his hand onto my pussy, feeling for my slit. I was wet, and when his finger found my slit he slid it in, fingering me nicely. I was very aroused, and pulled him on top of me, making sure that the blanket was over us. I felt for his hard cock, opened my pussy-lips and let him push it in. It felt wonderful, his cock deep in me, snuggled under the blanket. I whispered in his ear “’ quietly””, and he nodded, his cock sliding in and out of me slowly. There was no way we could fuck properly without making it obvious, so I let him just grind in and out a bit, clenching my thighs and my pussy around his cock. We were hardly moving, just small jerks so as not to make a noise- it was hard not to laugh, but it felt great. I was almost ready to cum when he began to breathe hard, and I dug my nails into his bum as he came in me, his body hardly moving as he squirted. As soon as he was done gave a few more thrusts and I came, a warm little orgasm rushing through my pussy. It was great- gentle and soft and nice. I lay under him for a moment, and then he rolled off me. I slid out from his bed, pulled my pants up, and went to the bathroom. When I got back, I gave him a big sloppy kiss, got into my bed and fell asleep almost immediately, only waking when the crew turned on the lights for breakfast before starting the descent in Charle De Gaulle airport, Paris. It was such a nice flight, and I really enjoyed having sex with Hilton like that- it was just what I wanted! We disembarked via the exclusive exit and his luggage was delivered at the carousel. Hilton had to go on to Paris for a meeting with one of Simons partners to sign an agreement, and I had to catch a flight to Nice later that day. I had some time to kill, and as my luggage was routed straight through to Nice, I only had my back-pack with me. I had seen a colleague, Magda, from the same company as I work for on the charters, on the plane, and we met up to go into Roissy for a walk and some lunch before heading back to the airport and our flight to Nice. Roissy-en-France, to give it its proper name, is the suburb in which the airport was built (or on which, I guess!).(The airport’s name, before it was Charles De Gaul, was Roissy International). It’s a small village with a few hotels and restaurants, some quite good ones, and there are busses which go there every 30 minutes or so. Its nicer than sitting at the airport, and one can sit outside if the weather is nice, walk around, have lunch etc., and then get a bus back to the terminal very easily. I often go there if I have dead time in Paris, as the city itself is too far unless you have more than 6 or 8 hours layover. Magda and I took a bus into Roissy, had a walk around, and found a nice restaurant for coffee and a pastry. Magda is Dutch, and I have worked with her a few times on charters- she is a chef, and I was delighted to find out that she was on the same yacht as I would be on, as head Chef for the week. She is a lovely person, older than I am; tall, blonde, blue eyes and buxom and very bubbly and full of fun. She is lesbian, and has a ‘’husband’’ in Amsterdam where they live. I have met her husband, Hendrina, and also like her a lot. She was dying to find out why I was in First Class, and who the guy was that I was with, so I told her, and she fell about laughing when I told her of my mile-high club experience! After 2 hours we went to the hotel to wait for the bus. A businessman with a Jaguar car offered us a lift, so we accepted and he dropped us off at the terminal entrance. We went through passport control again and to the Air France lounge where we were going to wait for our flight. (The charter company pays for the crew to use the airline lounges usually). In the lounge we found several of our other colleagues already, so much kissing and hugging as we caught up with each other’s lives and experiences since we had last met. Many of them , as I used to, see each other often, but I was out of the loop now, and they were all keen to find out how married life was going, and whether I had settled down at last! Not all of the crew was going to be on the same yachts- our company was supplying crew for several yachts that week, as were the other companies, so we also said hello to crew from other charter providers. Great excitement when the flight from the USA arrived and the American crew of the new super-maxi 90 m yacht arrived, from Florida. They are not from a company, but are employees of the owner, and travel around the world with the yacht. They are so typically American! The girls are all blonde, good looking and tanned, the guys are well-built, cropped hair and tanned, and they are loud! But great fun, and very down-to-earth. I didn’t know all of them, but many I had met over the years, when they were on the owner’s previous yacht. Now he had this new one, one of the biggest built in the last few years, and they had just done their sea-trials off Miami before the yacht was relocated from its base in Fort Lauderdale to the Med for the season. (It doesn’t carry a full crew when they relocate- just the engineering crew and some hotel staff to make meals and so on for the 7000+ km trans-Atlantic trip to Nice, so the rest fly to where it is going). All were dressed in their uniforms (as we were by now). Theirs are blue jeans, white shirts with a stars-and-stripes pocket, and the girls have a stars and stripes scarf, the guys have stars and stripes caps. (The standing joke is the girls have stars and stripes underwear! I was at a pub one night when some girl from our crew told us that, to which a guy, with a deadpan face, said ‘’ no they don’t!’’. We fell about laughing- no one asked him how he knew! ) (Our uniform on board is a brown jacket and charcoal-grey pants, (for hotel staff) and a white jacket and the same pants for technical crew but when we travel we wear a white blouse with the dark-grey skirt or pants. We can aslso however wear what the owner or charterer wants, within reason, if they have a preference, and if they pay for it! In hot weather, we often wear Bermuda-shorts and a t- shirt, whatever colour and style they want) We all chatted and caught up as some other crew arrived in the lounge, and when they called our flight we saw more crew from other companies joining the flight. Landed in Nice, and the buses took us to us to the Yacht basin. The yacht I was to crew on was not there yet, so we hung around the yacht club, until she arrived, and then we walked around the basin to the other side where she docked. Part 2 – On Board We all signed on and were allocated our quarters. Because I was Executive Head, Hotel, I got to share a cabin with the Executive Chef, my friend Magda. The others, all 18 crew, share cabins with usually 4-6 in a cabin in bunk-beds, and a shared bathroom. (The senior men also share 2 to a cabin and the Captain has his own cabin). I won’t bore you with the work aspect of the charter, other than to say that there is a huge amount of work to be done before any guest arrives. We would have a full week of cruises with various guests, and then go to Monte Carlo to dock for the Grand Prix, and then back to Nice afterwards. We don’t operate out of Monte Carlo harbour because it is just too congested and it takes forever to get out to sea and back into our berth. We were scheduled to be in harbour for 2 days doing our provisioning and general checks, and then the first guests were to arrive. The day passed quickly as it always does when one is busy. The weather this time of the year is mild, with night-time lows of around 17c and midday highs of around 25c so we were dressed in our work clothes of shorts and t shirts most of the day, enjoying the sun. The first night, I was invited by a guy from the American crew to a party in town. I didn’t want to sit around doing nothing, and the others whom I know all wanted to just relax and chill on board or in a bar near the marina, so I accepted his invitation. He came over at 8, and we phoned for a taxi to take us to the house where the party was. It was hosted by a friend of his Dad who lives in Nice, and knew that his friend’s son would be on board. Justin, the American guy, is nice- I have met him once before and like him. He is very polite in a typical Southern USA way (he is from South Carolina), tall, well built, dark blond hair and a lovely smile. Because I often need some fairly smart clothes on this charter, I had packed 2 cocktail dresses and 2 formal gowns, with shoes and accessories to match. That night, I wore a full-length pale blue dress with high-waist, plunging V- neck top (to below my boobs) and shoulder straps. My bra-less cleavage was nice and the sides of my boobs were visible. The thin fabric of the dress flowing to my ankles, with white strappy high-heel sandals with clear Perspex heels and straps. I had my hair loose, and only wore my thin gold Piaget watch and no other jewellery. We got to the house perched on a hillside, and rang the doorbell at the gate in the high wall. Justin said who we were when the intercom was answered, and the door clicked open. The house’s ground level was up a flight of stairs from the road, and our host greeted us at the top of the stairs, and right away I knew I was in trouble! Our host, Giancarlo, is what I can only describe as ‘’beautiful’’ in an Italian way- maybe late 40’s, longish black hair, tanned, rugged, blue eyes, his immaculate white shirt open in front showing a thick solid gold chain, his blue jeans as tight as can be, his body trim and strong. He looked like an advert for GQ! But THAT wasn’t what the trouble was. I realised as I saw him that I had met him before- he had been at a party in Paris 3 years ago, with a very young, petite blonde woman, maybe 18 or 19, and he, her and another guy had spent the whole night fucking each other all over the house, and when they were not at it, he, our host, was coming on to any other woman around, and with great success! I wondered whether he would recognize me, and as he saw me I realised that it took him a moment, and then he worked out where he knew me from! His smile didn’t change, but I knew he was going to want to speak to me! He escorted us to the pool where a group of people were drinking and eating, and chatting- all beautifully dressed, stunningly groomed men and women- the real jet-set having a party! A 3 piece band was set up near the house, playing jazz, and the garden was lit by huge ‘’candles’’ on poles. The garden overlooked the bay and in the distance I could see two more motor-yachts, their lights on, entering the marina. Giancarlo took me by the arm while Justin went to get us a drink, and introduced me to his wife, Christina. She looked a bit younger than him, blonde, beautiful and elegant; wearing what looked like a very expensive cocktail dress with loads of jewellery. We spoke for a moment, and then he showed me to the lounge area. ‘’I remember you’’ he said’’ you were at a party in Paris a year or two ago’’ ‘’yes’’ I said ‘’ I remember you too’’ ‘’you were with a man I think. I seem to remember that you were maybe with more than one man?”” I nodded. ‘’that was a boyfriend- and yes, were both into swopping- so we did. Now I am married, and my husband and I still do some swopping at home’’ ‘’So this is not your husband ‘’. It was a statement, as he knew who Justin was of course. ‘’no’’ I said with a laugh, ‘’he invited me. My husband is in South Africa.’’ ‘’and you now swop without him?’’ ‘’if I want to. It depends on who is there and if I feel like it’’ I said. He paused for a moment. ‘’you may recall that the young lady I was with was not Christina? ’’. I shrugged. ‘’who you were with is not my business. I don’t remember her at all’’ He smiled. ’’That’s good. My wife and I have a very open marriage, we often get together with others, but sometimes it is also fun to play alone. Maybe you and I will chat some more later. Enjoy the party!” I didn’t know exactly what he meant by ‘’we get together with others’’, but I had a fair idea! I smiled at him, and reclaimed Justin who was at the pool talking to a plump brunette with huge tits all on show in a dress that left little to the imagination. ‘’ I thought you Southern boys were into moonshine and fast cars- I didn’t know you were into dairy also!’’ I said with a laugh as I led him away. He laughed and patted my on my bum.’ Spectacular though, weren’t they?’’ ‘’ well, I have a feeling that it won’t be long before she is out of that dress- she looks ready to fuck someone right now’’ I said as we walked away We mingled, met some people, and had a great time. The band started playing some dance music, and many of the couples started dancing. It was dark now, and the scene was romantic and beautiful, the candles flickering in the slight breeze, the music and the whole vibe. I danced with Justin, enjoying the closeness of his strong body as we slow-danced, the smell of his aftershave. His hands were around my waist, and I felt him pull me closer. His one hand slid lower, to the top of my bum, then onto my bum, pulling my hips into his. I felt his cock, hard, pressing against my tummy. I let him hold me like that, knowing that he knew I could feel him erect, wanting me. He leaned towards me and lifted my face with his hand, and kissed me on my mouth. I kissed him chastely at first, and then as I felt his tongue probe my lips, I opened my mouth and let him kiss me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth, his lips soft and nice. I didn’t know whether he knew I was married of not- he hadn’t asked, and I hadn’t said. I decided to let it go- while this was technically a one-on-one, which Simon and I have agreed we would not do, it wasn’t like I was going to see Justin again, so nothing would come of it, there was no danger of a relationship, which is what the agreement is designed to avoid. I also had not decided how far I was going to let him go- I would not go back to his or my yacht together, because people would talk, so maybe we would just kiss and cuddle a bit here. As we danced he kept kissing me, and pushing his hard cock more against me. His other hand, which had been touching my face, now, touched my cleavage, stroking the exposed front of my breasts. If he slid his hand sideways, he could cup my naked breast under the fabric, but he didn’t, thank goodness! ‘’down boy’’ I said softly, moving his hand off my cleavage. He smiled, and we kept dancing. Later we sat at a table with Giancarlo and Christina and ate lobster and oysters while he regaled us with stories of his life in the Merchant Marine as a young man. I could see Christina eyeing me, trying to work out where I fitted in I think. I told her what I did, trying not to make it sound like I was a glorified maid! She was very attractive, with a heart-shaped face, her blonde hair in a chignon, her throat elegant and pale with a gold necklace and a huge diamond pendant. She spoke with a strong Italian accent, in fairly broken English, but she could make herself understood. (Of course Justin, like most American, could only speak English!) After dinner Justin and I danced some more. When the music stopped for a while, we went indoors, and sat in the lounge, in a corner, chatting. His arm was around me, resting lightly on the top of my breast. I was very relaxed and comfortable with him- he seemed a really nice guy, friendly and fun to be with. We kissed, and his hand moved to cup my breast over the fabric of the dress. As I wasn’t wearing a bra, my nipples went hard right away, and he tweaked them lightly as he kissed me. I let him fondle my boobs, and even put one hand under the fabric, holding my breast and stroking it. There was no-one around us, so I let him continue for a while. He was getting more aroused, and I decided that it would be ok to let him go further. I put my hand on his crotch, and felt his cock rigid and thick under his pants. I pressed it a bit, letting my nails trace a line along the length of it. It was a full-length dress, and expensive, so I didn’t really want to get into a groping session with it on- that’s a sure way to damage a dress that cost well over R15k when Simon bought it for me last year. But where to go? I took his hand off my boob, and stood up. ‘’back in a minute’’ I said, and walked out of the lounge and down a passage. I looked in the rooms as I passed. When I got to the end of the passage, I saw that the room on the left seemed to be a guest room, with no-one’s personal stuff in it, just a bed and a table and some pieces of art on the walls. As I turned, I almost bumped into Giancarlo who was in the passage behind me. ‘’excuse me’’ I said, ‘’ I didn’t mean to pry. I was looking for somewhere a bit more private’’ I wasn’t really sure what to say- ‘’where can my boyfriend and I go to fuck’’ seemed a little crude. ‘’of course’’ he said with a slow smile. ’’Come. Let me show you’’ He led me down a side passage, and opened the door to another room. It was much bigger, and very luxuriously furnished, with a huge bed in the centre. ‘’this is a nicer room. You won’t be disturbed here.’’ As I turned, he was standing in front of me. He reached out and held me by my waist, his hands sliding up and down from the side of my boobs to my hips. ‘’maybe you and I will also have fun here?’’ he asked, his face close to mine ‘’I don’t mind’’ I said. ‘’join us if you want. I am not sure how Justin will feel, but we can see’’ ‘’till later then’’ he said, and walked away. I went back to Justin, took his hand and led him down the passage to the room, went in and pushed the door closed behind us. I faced him, wrapped my arms around him and pulled him to me, kissing him. He responded with enthusiasm, his hands caressing me, feeling my boobs and bum, pulling me close to him. He stood back for a moment. ‘’you are quite something, Tamz’’ he said ‘’not many girls go and arrange a place to have sex with a guy’’ I laughed. ’Listen, I am not 15 years old. If we want to have sex, lets at least do so in comfort- and I am not going to sit on a couch groping each other while my dress gets ruined, just to pretend that you are seducing me and its all a big surprise to me.’’ I shrugged off the shoulder straps of my dress, reached behind me and unzipped it, and stepped out of it, putting it carefully on a chair. I stood in front of him, wearing only my tiny black g- string, hold-up stockings and high heels. My nipples were hard from the sudden cold, so I let him look me up and down, watching him. ‘’does the merchandise look ok to you?’’ I asked with a smile He blushed. ‘’sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude- you have a magnificent body’’ ‘’thank you’’ I said ’’there are a few kilos too many, but thanks anyway. Now, I have shown you mine, lets see yours!’’ I unbuttoned his shirt and took it off him. He had a great body, big pecs and arms, very well-defined. I undid his belt as he kicked off his loafers, unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor. He had a pair of red Calvin Klein jocks on, his cock doing its best to escape from them. I pulled them down his legs and he stepped out of them. Pushing him onto his back on the bed, I leaned over him and took his cock in my mouth. He was circumcised, and big! I filled my mouth with his cock, sucking on him while massaging his shaft as he lay back on the bed. I took as much as I could in my mouth, and then started to lick up and down it, around his balls and back up his shaft. He was shaved around his pubic area and balls which was nice, and the hair only started above there, and up his tummy. His cock was very nice indeed- not huge, but certainly bigger than most and very thick. I sucked and licked him for a while, and then stood upright, taking off my g string. I was about to take off my stockings and high heels when he said ‘’’Leave them on – it’s so sexy!’’ I smiled and did so. I climbed onto the bed with my stockings and heels on, squatted over his legs and began to suck his cock again. He reached for my hips, and pulled me around, so that I was facing his feet, my pussy over his mouth, being careful not to spike his face with my heels as I turned round. I lowered my head and sucked him, and felt his tongue probe my pussy lips as he pulled my hips lower to his face. His tongue opened my pussy lip, seeking my clit. When he found it, he began to circle it with his tongue, round and round, and then reverting to thrusting his tongue deep into my lips, lapping at them. We stayed like that for a while, his tongue deep in me, and his cock in my mouth. His fingers parted my pussy lips more, and he slid a finger into me, taking his mouth away. Fingering me for a while, he then took his finger out and resumed eating my pussy. The room was silent except for the distant sound of the music, and the sound of our mouths pleasuring each other. I lifted myself off him, got off the bed and walked to my bag and got out a condom. Walking back to him, I saw him riveted on my body, naked except for stockings and high heels, my boobs bouncing and my nipples hard, my pussy lips engorged and prominent. I smiled, did a pirouette, and sat next to him on the bed. Taking his cock in my hands, I opened the condom and slid it over his rigid cock. When it was in place, I straddled him, facing him, and lowered myself on his cock, guiding it into my wet lips. I wriggled a bit to get it in, and then felt the delicious sensation of the hard thickness of it sliding into me, deeper and deeper, until I was sitting flush on him, his length in me. I lifted myself and began to ride his cock as he met my movements with a small thrust each time. I leaned back, increasing the pressure on my pussy, and rode him more and more vigorously. It was fantastic- his cock filled my pussy to capacity, the thickness forcing my pussy open, the outer lips being stretched by him, creating an intense feeling in me. He felt for my nipples, and pulled lightly on them as I rode him. I was just beginning to feel the build-up when I heard a sound behind me. I stopped, and turned to look. The door opened slowly, and Giancarlo came into the room quietly. Justin reacted as though he has got an electric shock. He sat up, and tried to lift me off him. (Quite what he was planning on doing I don’t know- we were both nude and obviously fucking-how he planned on hiding it is beyond me!) I pushed on his chest. ‘’relax, its fine. He knew we are here. Do you mind if he stays?’’ Justin looked at me, then at Giancarlo, then back at me. ‘’are you ok with it?’’ he asked. ‘’yes, we can all have fun together if you want’’ I said. He looked again at Giancarlo and at me. ‘’ok, sure, why not, if you are ok with it’’. I motioned to Giancarlo, who had been standing at the door, to come closer. He closed the door, and came over to the bed, looking at my boobs and my cunt, Justin’s cock still in me. ‘’join us’’ I said, and began to ride Justin again. He had gone a little bit softer, but as I began to move I felt his cock harden. Giancarlo undressed, still watching us. When he was naked, he came to the bed, stood next to it and reached for my boobs. His cock was hard and standing up straight. He was fully shaved all over, and although his uncircumcised cock was not quite as big as Justin’s, it was still a good size. I reached for it as I rode Justin, and masturbated him. Lifting myself off Justin, I got up and went to my bag, and got another condom. I pushed Giancarlo to sit on the bed, kneeled in front of him and took his cock in my mouth, licking the front of the shaft, feeling the head start to emerge. I took the condom, unrolled it and slid it onto Giancarlo’s cock, masturbating him as I did so. When he was ready, I stood, leaned forward on the bed, and took Justin’s cock in my mouth again, tasting my own juices on him. I was bent over, and Giancarlo went and stood behind me, and felt my pussy from the back. I was of course wet and open, so after fingering me for a moment, he positioned his cock at my pussy, and slid it in. He began to pump me from the back while I sucked Justin, who was mesmerized by the sight of Giancarlo fucking me while I sucked him. It was a sensational feeling, the cock thrusting into me from the back, Justin’s big cock filling my mouth, the feeling of maleness all around me, the mixture of their cologne and sweat and the smell of sex. It was very arousing. After a while I stood up straight, and Giancarlo took his cock out of my pussy. I was very aroused and ready to cum. I lay on my back on the bed, my legs spread wide apart. I took Justin’s hand and pulled him so that he got up and got on top of me. ‘’you first’ ’I said to him ‘’then you ‘’, this to Giancarlo. ’’Take turns till you make me cum’’ Men take instructions so well! Justin began to fuck me hard, his lean and hard body thundering down on me, his cock ramming into my pussy. I lifted my legs high; my knees bent, and pulled his bum to me hard. He fucked fast for maybe two or three minutes. Then I pushed at him, and he rolled off me. Giancarlo, who had been standing next to the bed masturbating, immediately climbed onto me and took up where Justin had left off. He had a great technique, grinding his pelvis into me, pushing on the top of my clit with each stroke. I let myself go, feeling the pressure of his cock in my pussy, his hot breath in my ear as he panted with exertion. I felt an orgasm rush up, my pussy getting sensitive , my body starting to jerk as the orgasm swept through me, over and over, I heard myself whimpering and gasping as it took hold. He kept up the fucking until the orgasm slowed and stopped. I knew what I wanted. I reached for Justin, who was lying next to me, watching us, his eyes wide with desire, his mouth open. ‘’quickly’’ I said. He obliged, and as Giancarlo got off Justin climbed on top of me, his cock driving straight into my swollen cunt. He fucked very hard and fast. No sooner had he started than I felt another orgasm start, because I had not come back past the ‘’plateau’’ yet. Justin was so aroused by this- I heard him grunt and say ‘’yes, yes, yes’’ as he fucked, and just as I came so did he, his body and mine jerking in a combined spasm of ecstasy and lust, his body hammering into mine hard without either of us feeling it. (I would have bruises on my hips-bone the next day!) When we had finished cumming he got off me. I pulled Giancarlo to me and lay on my side. He lay facing me, and I helped his cock into my pussy, my one stockinged leg bent and almost hooked over his hip. I pulled him to me, tensing my pussy and clutching him close. He was almost trembling with tension, and he exploded inside me within a minute, our bodies thrusting and hugging tight until he was spent. The three of us lay on the bed side by side, the men’s hands stroking my body as one does to a racehorse after a hard run, calming me. When we had recovered, I went to the en-suite bathroom, showered and got dressed again and put my make-up on. Giancarlo was still on the bed and Justin sitting on a chair when I came out. I blew them a kiss and said to Justin ‘’see you at the pool’’ and left. Justin and I stayed a while longer- I think he was a bit ‘’shell-shocked’’ by the experience, but I had fun anyway. We took a taxi back to the yachts early the next morning. When I kissed him goodbye, I had a serious chat about keeping this confidential. He swore he would do so, and I believed him. He wanted to know if he could see me again, but I said no, that was a once-off, and I was not in the market for a relationship in any way. He seemed to accept that, and we parted. Part 3- Monte Carlo We completed our stocking- up the next day, and made ready for the first guests. They started arriving at noon, a group of 10, and we got busy showing them to their staterooms, and getting them settled in. I had a staff of 5 reporting to me, and with a small group like that we had time to continue our preparations for the rest of the 2 weeks. I checked in on all 5 couples as my staff unpacked for them, and then took them on a tour of the yacht. None of them had ever been on a mega motor-yacht, and they were suitably impressed, which is always nice. There is nothing worse than guests who pretend that to be on a multi-million-Euro yacht like this is a normal every-day thing, and they act all blasé and unimpressed. We got underway at 18h00 on a perfect and balmy Mediterranean evening, motoring slowly out of the yacht basin, with the guests all on the sundeck, waving at the spectators on the quay. A huge yacht like this always attracts attention when she is underway- it’s a very impressive sight. Once clear of the breakwater the Captain took her up to top speed for a short while. It may not sound fast in terms of a speed but 16 knots is 30 kilometres per hour and one can water-ski at 25 already, so it’s quick. After maybe 10 minutes he throttled back to cruising speed, and we started serving hors’douvres on the sun deck (oysters, champagne, and snacks). Later I told the Captain we were ready to serve dinner, and he went to a slow idle, just enough to stop the yacht rolling, and the guests sat down to dinner of rare Sirloin steak, French fries, roast vegetables and a fresh green salad (Lenny Henry: ‘’what other fucking colour would it be?’’) We returned to Nice around midnight, docked, and everyone went to bed. I locked away the alcohol, checked that everything was secured, and went to my cabin. Magda was not there, so I read for a while and turned off the light. I was woken about an hour later by the sound of Magda in her bed. I didn’t turn over, as I didn’t wasn’t to start talking. But when I heard another voice, not Magda’s, I slowly turned over to see who it was in our cabin. Magda was in her bunk, lying on top of the sheets. On top of her, crouched back to front was one of my staff, a dark-haired, slim and very pretty young French girl of 19, naked, with her head between Magda’s thighs and Magda’s between hers, both engrossed in eating each other pussy. I watched them for a while, enjoying the spectacle. The young girl had small and very firm breasts, which moved a little as she mouthed Magda. Magda has big boobs, wobbling a bit as she poked her tongue deep into the girl’s cunt, her finger in the girl’s arsehole above her. I put my hand between my legs and played gently with my pussy as I watched them. I didn’t want to get involved, as I had had quite enough fucking and my pussy was quite tender, but it was nice watching them. They got more and more aroused it seemed. The young girl (Mignonette) got off Magda and lay next to her, still upside down, and resumed eating Magda’s plump shaved pussy. Magda gave a series of short, muffled yelps as she came, Mignonettes head pressed hard against her cunt. No sooner had she come than Magda opened the girl’s legs, put her hand where her mouth had been, and began to finger Mignonette rapidly until she came, her hips bucking and thrusting as Magda rammed her fingers into her. Mignonette turned around and lay holding Magda, kissing her. I rolled back and went to sleep. Early next morning when I awoke Mignonette was gone, as was Magda. I got dressed and was on deck before the guests were, checking on the tables for breakfast and getting information from the First Officer about the plans for the days sailing. I found Magda in the galley, and made a cup of coffee .I said to her quietly ‘’ don’t tire my staff out at night- they need a rest!’’ She almost split the sauce she was making. ‘’did you hear us?’’ she asked with a smile. ‘’heard and saw’’ I said ‘’ and she is really cute so I don’t blame you! I didn’t know she was gay though’’ ‘’she isn’t’’ said Magda, ‘’ I am converting her! She has a fiancée, but she has played with a girl party before, so I said lets have some fun, I will show you things. She was up for it and that’s how we got it together’’ I laughed, patted her on her plump bum, and left the kitchen. I couldn’t help having a good look at Mignonette as she cleaned one of the suites- bending over, or stretching- she really has got a nice figure and face, and the image of her naked and eating pussy came to mind of course! The next few days were spent doing one and two day charters up and down the coast, with the guest list changing every few days. We were very busy, and I didn’t have time to even think about sex! We dropped the last of the week’s guests in Nice, refuelled, and got ready to take the owner and his party on board for the short trip to Monte Carlo, and the Grand Prix. We were to go out to sea for the day for the guests to swim, jet-ski, water-ski and relax, and enter port in the late afternoon on Thursday before the race. The 90m America yacht was also getting ready to go to Monte Carlo, and I saw Justin on deck, and waved at him. He waved back, and I thought, seeing him in his tight jeans and white shirt, his hair ruffled by the breeze, that he looked edible, and maybe I would make an exception and see him again! The owner, his new(ish) wife and his party arrived in a fleet of limos, and we all rushed around welcoming them, getting their luggage on board and stowed, and seeing to their needs ( Moet et Chandon on ice in each suite, welcome gifts from the owner, an itinerary for the week, expected weather details, a booklet about the yacht, a booklet on safety on board and out-of-bounds areas ( the bridge unless invited, the crew quarters and the engine room), some do’s and don’ts on board (NO smoking of anything indoors or on any deck other than the rear of the sundeck for safety reasons- fire, not sinking, is the biggest risk on a yacht) and a note to tell the chef of any allergies or specific dietary requirements. We left harbour with the American yacht behind us, and once they drew alongside, both Captains opened the throttles fully. The huge yachts lifted their bows and we raced out to sea, everyone on deck looking at each other. The sight of these two magnificent huge yachts at speed and next to each other is something you will very seldom see, and sure enough we were joined after a few minutes by an French TV/media helicopter which buzzed around us taking pictures , the huge lens of the TV camera visible in the open door way. The white water spraying off the bow and the huge churned wake behind the yachts in the clear Mediterranean morning air was magnificent, a real treat. I said to our guests to be sure to pictures of the American yacht at speed alongside us- it’s a rare sight to be that close. Of course, this opportunity was too good to miss for two of our female guests, minor TV celebrities in Europe it seemed. They shot up to the pool, whipped off their bikini tops, and lay nonchalantly ‘’tanning’’ while the cameras no doubt zoomed in on their perfect bodies and blonde hair. The yachts parted company, and we slowed to a more sedate pace south- west before stopping in the bay of Agay, some 50 kms along the coast, away from Monte Carlo. The sea was flat-calm, and we set up for water sports. I had seen to the fuelling of the boats (the 9m tender, which we use for skiing, and the RIB and the jet skis, and the guests took turns riding around, skiing and so on, some just enjoying the novelty of swimming in the deep ocean. Some didn’t do much, just sat around and had drinks and snacks which my staff served. The yacht owner is one of the nicest guys I have met- he is Italian and the heir to a huge fortune because his Father owns great chunks of Italy and its manufacturing businesses, but he works in the Group also. He is 50- ish, good looking with dark hair and a stunning smile. Always immaculately dressed and groomed, never a hair out of place. He always chats to the crew, he remembers names and while he knows exactly what he wants, he is not aggressive or domineering. He is married to a very beautiful French woman, who must be late 30’s although she looks no more than 30. Tall, blonde, big boobs and a slim figure other than the boobs. There is a story that she was a Playboy nude model, and from her looks I can believe it, but no-one has been able to find out when or under what name- I think the crew would give their eye teeth to see pics of her nude and waiting to be fucked! She is less pleasant to deal with- wife number 3 , she can be very cold and demanding, but at times she is ok, I guess it depends on how things are going in her life. (She had a complete fit on board one day because their private jet was not properly cleaned inside - there were some marks on the bathroom mirror. Such is the tough life of the super-rich when that is your biggest problem in the day) (I have met both numbers 1 and 2, and I like number 1 the best, (she is the mother of the 3 children) but then I am not married to her. What I do know is that each is younger than the last. Number 1 must be 50+, number 2 is mid 40’s and this one is late 30’s. A few more and he will be picking his wife up at school each day!) Anyway, I digress. The afternoon was nice, I think everyone enjoyed themselves, and we packed up and motored to Monte Carlo around 5 pm, arriving there as the sun was setting. Monte Carlo on Grand Prix weekend is a nightmare for the yachts and their crews. For a start we are packed like sardines on the two quays. Then, we have to dock stern-on to the quay, which is not easy in a huge yacht, even with the bow-thrusters. THEN we can all only access via the stern deck. Normally we don’t load and unload when the guests are around, but in Monte Carlo we are all going up and down the same area all day- crew, guests, deliveries etc. I always have a big rolled up matching carpet on board for Monte Carlo, which I get laid out from the quay inside the yacht and into the lounge so that hopefully by the time the dirty shoes of the crew and delivery guys get onto the cream lounge carpet, the dirt will have rubbed off already. We get berthed more or less in order of size (of the yacht!). This has NOTHING to do with status, but rather with the fenders (the big rubber things which we hang on the side to prevent the yachts bumping into each other’s sides). You can’t put big yacht next to a small yacht because the fenders won’t be at the same height, so we berth next to yachts of more or less the same size when we are stern-on in a harbour. Eventually we got lined up and berthed (and I leaned some new Italian swearwords from the Captain, including one imaginative phrase about the dock-hands being the ‘’unholy product of a fuck between the town whore and a donkey’’!) Thursday was uneventful, with racing cars driving around, we had a big party on board on Thursday night, so I was up till 4 am, and back on duty at 7 am. Friday everyone was in town, so we cleaned and restocked. (And the delivery guys can’t get within a kilometre of the yacht by truck, so everything is brought on trolleys and forklifts!) Saturday was busy on the track and on our yacht, Sunday was the big race. We were packed to the rafters (if we had any) with guests- the ones who were staying on board, and day-guests. Lots of drinking and eating lying around the pool, tanning and generally being seen. We have a note in each suite, and in the lounge and open areas reminding people on board that we are docked stern-on. That means that if the doors on the rear of each deck are open, then someone with a long lens in a grandstand on the other side of the track can see right through the yacht, from the stern to the front areas- so be very careful what you do, what you wear and so on ( and a gentle reminder that they can see you snort coke if you sit at the bar and do a few lines, so unless you want to be in tomorrow’s papers with a glass straw up your nose at the bar- be careful! ) After the race (which a red car won, I was told) a lot of the guests left. The owner and a few guys went to visit another yacht for cocktails, and we started to clear up, and get ready to go back to Nice the next day. About 7 pm, Mignonette came to me. She said that there was something strange going on in the crew cabin. (Magda had told her that I had seen them, and she had come to me to check that she wasn’t in trouble) I went with her to our quarters. She showed me the locked door of the one cabin, where 6 guys sleep. It was locked, but there was noise from inside. What was odd, she said, was that all 6 guys were on deck- so who was in their cabin? Suspecting that someone was trying to steal maybe, I went to my cabin which is next door to that one. The crew cabins have sliding doors between them, so you can configure them from one huge cabin sleeping 10, to 3 smaller cabins and so on, depending on how many crew are on board, whether they are male or female etc. In each sliding door there is a window, with a curtain on each side so that if for example Magda and I are in our cabin, we can close the curtain on the inside of each slider, and people in the adjoining crew cabin can open theirs, but they still cant see into ours. When one wants, one can open all the curtains to make it less claustrophobic. I should mention that out cabins don’t have windows- we are below the accommodation deck, down a’’ ladder’’, in the bow of the yacht against the hull, below the water-line. We get there via this ladder behind a door in the galley, so we don’t walk up and down through the guest areas when we go to or from our cabins- we just magically appear out of the galley! I went to the widow between our cabin and the one where the noises were, and pulled the curtain back. Whoever was in there had not realised that they needed to close the curtain on their side, as it was open, and now I could look into that cabin. I peeked around the curtain. What I saw was unexpected to say the least. It wasn’t a burglar! It was the owner’s wife, Carmen, and two of the day-guests. I had seen these two Canadian guys earlier partying up a storm- both young, big guys, friends of someone I guessed. The Black guy was really built, and liked to show it off in a wife-beater and very tight jeans. The other guy, a White man, looked like a wrestler, squat, hugely powerful and muscular with lots of tattoos. Carmen was naked, leaning over the small table in the cabin. In front of her, the White guy had his jeans open, and his cock in her mouth, holding her head with his hands. The Black guy was behind her, his cock in her pussy, fucking her hard, slamming her against the table. Her big boobs were pressed on the table, holding her chest off it. Even in that position she had a stunning figure, her blonde hair cascading down, hiding her face,, her tanned body a contrast to its almost white colour. The man with his cock in her mouth pulled her hair back, and we could see her perfect face, lipsticked mouth wide open taking as much of his cock in as she could. The Black guy took his cock out of her pussy, bent down and reached for something in the pocket of his jeans around his ankles, and then squirted something on her bum, and I realised that it was not her pussy he was now busy with, but her arsehole. His cock very, very big, and very erect, shining with her juices. Hs poked one finger into her, played for a moment, then started to try and get his cock into her arse.She moved and wriggled, and it must have gone in because he started to fuck her, slowly at first until it all seemed to be in, then faster, all the while his buddy had his cock halfway down her throat. The noise was Carmen grunting with each thrust of the cock in her mouth, and now in her arse. Mignonette moved next to me to see what was going on. She took one look and started to giggle. We both kept looking, and I found that I was getting quite aroused by watching them. Without thinking, I touched my boobs under my top and pulled at my nipples. I was intensely aware of Mignon’s body close to me, pressing against my side, her firm boobs against me as she stood sideways to see through the glass. She must have sensed me looking at her, because she turned to me and laid her head on my shoulder. I was tempted to touch her and play, but I was concerned that I didn’t really know her, and had no idea whether she would keep it to herself or not. What I did notice though was that her hair smelled great, freshly washed and shampooed. After a second, that bothered me. Why, at that time of the day, did her hair smell freshly shampooed? I turned to face her. ‘’have you just showered?’’ I asked her She hesitated. ‘’Mignon, why have you just showered? And where were you when I was looking for you an hour ago anyway?’’ One and one was starting to make two in my mind. She blushed and fidgeted, but said nothing. ‘’ok, who were you with that you need to shower, let me put it that way?’’ I said, beginning to suspect where she had been. ‘’avec un homme’’ she said, looking at the carpet. (With a man) ‘’quel homme?’’ I asked (which man) ‘’monsieur’’. Still looking at the carpet. (sir) ‘’monsieur qui?’’ (Which ‘’sir’’) She remained silent, and suddenly I understood. While all male guests would be called ‘’sir’’, in a reply like that, ‘’sir’’ meant the boss. And there was only one ‘’boss’’- the owner! ‘’ Avec le propriétaire?’’ I asked, knowing the answer. (With the owner ) ‘’oui’’ I was amazed. The little minx had been fucking the owner sometime in the afternoon ! ‘’And her ?’’ i asked, looking at Carmen. ‘’Endormi’’ she said. (Asleep) Incredible. In the next door cabin, Carmen was getting fucked good and proper! The big Black guy was ramming his cock in her arse, so much so that she could not keep the other guys cock in her mouth. He took his cock out of her arse, causing her to yelp, went round to her face and unloaded his cum at her face, much of it going onto her boobs also. The other guy took her hand and pulled her to the floor. With her on her hands and knees he slid his cock into her pussy, fucked her for a moment, and then came in her, his body gripping hers as he squirted in her cunt. No sooner had both men cum, than they all got dressed, she wiped her face on a towel and the three of them left the cabin. We heard them go along the passage and up the ladder, laughing. Such is the life of the rich and famous I guess. The boss fucks the maid and the madam fucks the guests! The next morning we were back in Nice. We cleaned and unpacked, and I flew to Paris and then back to Johannesburg alone. I was exhausted, and when an old guy in First Class tried to hit on me, asking me ‘’if I had joined the mile-high club yet’’ , I gave him a sweet smile and said that I didn’t really like clubs, but that I was a member of the Sandton library, if that helped! Luv to you all! Tamara.