For spring break this year, me and some friends, along with my girl friend and a few of her own friends all went to a small but popular town on the water in Georgia for spring break (cheaper than Florida). The place was gorgeous, and it was actually a boat converted into a house. The interior wasn’t anything special, but the surroundings were spectacular—tucked away in a little cove with only a few other houses and boats around. At night the water would be so still that you could see perfect reflections of the moon and any lights, hardly even broken up by a ripple.
The trip was great; plenty of beach and bar time, hiking, and just hanging out. As the only couple on the trip my girlfriend and I (I’ll call her Sasha) started getting antsy—if you know what I mean—after a couple days of hanging with the whole group. Don’t get me wrong, we pecked a few times here and there, but there just wasn’t any time or space to do much more. Until Wednesday (day four) of the trip, anyways.
We all planned to go to a seafood restaurant for dinner. My friend John called to make a reservation, but was upset when he learned they could only take a party of 8, not 10. Almost like twins, Sasha and I offered to find a different restaurant instead. Some of the group objected, but eventually we convinced them.
The rest of the group headed out around 730, but we stayed back to “get ready”. (OK, I’m sure everyone knew the situation but we are shy people, we didnt want to be too forward). Fortunately, neither of us were actually hungry—but we were thirsty. We poured some red wine and went for a walk along the beach. It was a wonderful walk, golden hour, gentle waves, friendly vacationers waving hello, etc. By the time we came back, we were both at a good tipsy, holding hands and nuzzling heads every so often. Aaand smacking each others asses. What else is new.
The sun was starting to set, and we got a text from the group that they were going to head to the bar after dinner, in case we wanted to join. “We’re actually still out, hell of a wait at the Italian place. Thanks though” I responded. Sashas wide grin and big brown eyes wordlessly agreed with me. “Let’s go up to the top deck. And bring that bottle” she said, motioning to the wine. I smiled and obliged.
The top deck was marvelous. The sun had set and stars were becoming more visible by the minute. A man in one of the boats next to us, which we assumed was empty, even started playing the saxophone (nothing crazy, just blues scales. But it was still perfect, in a way). As we sat on the small couch up top, we moved closer and closer, until our hands were on each others legs. Pretty soon after that we started making out, her sweet, wine-infused scent filling my nostrils and making my heart race. I grabbed her face gently at first, then firmly when she placed the palm of her hand on my dick, rubbing gently in a circular motion. I broke the kiss as my exhale took over, our eyes meeting in the dark. We both smiled and paused, the kind of pause where you’re not sure if you’re going to separate or keep going.
Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was hormones, but the moment just felt right. I think I paused too long, because Sasha looked at me concerned. “What’s wrong baby?” I snapped out of my muse, took a breath and told her that I loved her. She shook her head at first, almost out of disbelief, but then beamed and reciprocated. “Really?” I asked, not sure if I heard her right. “Yes, you idiot I’ve been in love with you for months”.
Our hearts racing, we started making out again—a vigorous, adrenaline-filled collision of tongues, hands, stomachs and tits. We couldn’t control ourselves. Soon enough we were down to our underwear, my hands in her pants stroking the inside of her pussy while she rubbed my cock with both hands. I was absolutely throbbing. “I love you baby oh my god I love you” I panted, not sure the words were even my own. Without even changing the rhythm of my fingering she tensed up, her mouth forming an O, and before long I felt her pulsing and contracting on my fingers as a pool of liquid gathered in my palm. We both sat in disbelief, as she is notoriously difficult to make cum, but didn’t question it for too long. I licked my fingers clean and after catching her breath for another few seconds, she made her way down to my cock and began kissing it from the outside, before pulling down my underwear. I was literally throbbing through my underwear, precum leaving a small dot through the fabric. At that moment we heard the group come back to the boat house.
We checked her phone, and it was already 11:30pm. Holy shit, where did the time go. “Should we—“ i started, but Sasha made a “shhhh” gesture, and put her mouth around my cock. I was nervous, especially since it was mostly my friends on the trip, but I didnt protest. She sat me upright on the couch and used her flip flops for knee pads. Fortunately it seemed the group was on the lower deck, and we didn’t leave any lights on to leave a trace of us.
Sasha was really going to work on me… alternating between quasi-deep throats and gentle sucks of my tip, fondling my balls the whole time. (This will make sense in a moment, but Sasha isn’t wild about cum in her mouth). It felt amazing even through the dulling of the wine. I felt myself tense up, my cock starting to spasm. I failed to stifle a groan, my balls yanking up into my body and a warmth in my groin that begged for release. Sasha could tell, too, taking her mouth off of me and jerking me off as my orgasm erupted. I involuntarily thrusted forward with the force of the orgasm, firing nearly a dozen ropes of cum on the metal floors, her flip flops, the railing, and, as we learned while cleaning up with a spare rag—over the railing and into the water. I usually cum pretty far, but god damn.
Once my breathing calmed down we shared “I love you’s” again and cuddled, partially in our love-filled haze, and partly in an effort to let the others get drunk enough to not question why we were in the boat, or why my jizz was floating next to the boat. We ended up falling asleep up there (after a quick bathroom trip) and never heard about it from the others. Good friends, better night.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/wasmpj/my_first_i_love_you