The Yacht Liberty

I was stumped as to which category to post this under. Eventually, I chose incest but it also includes group sex and romance. But ultimately it is a story about care and love. The story is centred around ocean sailing, a subject I confess to having no experience. Given that my knowledge has come from the internet, I'm sure I've made some howlers but hope they don't detract from reader's enjoyment.
Those who read my story 'Le Canal du Midi' will recognise Kelly and Liam. I enjoyed creating those characters so they reappear part way through this story.
xxxxx
My name is Jessica (or Jess but never Jessie) and my childhood was anything but normal. Before I was born, my father, Duncan, who was an airline pilot, inherited, along with his brother, my great-grandmother's farm and land. She had been born there in 1919. Of course, at that time northeast Kent was mostly farmland and villages. By 2004, it was effectively part of London. The 180 acres was sold to a property developer for £48m, roughly $61m, splitting the proceeds between them.
Down my father's family line, there was a history of infertility. Low sperm counts were common. I suppose that's the reason that there is nineteen years between the ages of my father and Uncle Tony. One odd consequence of this is that Tony, despite being my uncle, is only five years older than me.
With his share, my father bought a bunch of large houses in the Surrey commuter belt near London to rent out and a 52ft ketch called Liberty. Tony's money went into a trust fund which he was able to access when he was twenty-one. Then, he used it to buy the roofing company he worked for. For the next nineteen years, I sailed the world with my parents. In fact, I was born on the boat. Idyllic? You'd think so but seventeen years with no friends, no school and never staying in the same place for more than two weeks? That was my father's rule - keep going. It was made even worse by being an only child.
At least enough sperm penetrated my mother to produce me. Tony and my Aunt Sarah had been less lucky, though they'd been trying since their marriage four years ago. Tony had zero sperm.
Our lifestyle ended abruptly, just before my eighteenth birthday, when my mother was diagnosed with cervical cancer. Luckily they caught it in time but we had to fly back to England. Whilst she was undergoing treatment I stayed with Uncle Tony and Aunt Sarah. I found life ashore difficult but got a job in a café. Whilst travelling I'd avoided relationships. What was the point as we'd be moving on soon?
At the café things were different; I was different. I had no idea about fashion or make-up so stood out with my tan, sun-bleached hair and shorts. When your diet is at least 50% fish and you're working lines and rigging all day you tend to develop a good body. Though petite, mine was lean and tight and in the café I was hit on at least a dozen times a day.
One Sunday, Tony and Sarah hosted a family gathering. It was evident from the conversations that my mother's illness had scared her and she didn't want to travel for the foreseeable future. That presented a problem as the yacht was in Auckland, New Zealand. My father didn't want to leave my mother and the harbour fees were stacking up. Neither did he want to sell it.
"I'll bring it back," said Tony. Everyone laughed, he knew nothing about boats. "Well not on my own obviously, but how difficult can a few knots and sails be?"
"And your roofing business?" said Aunt Sarah.
He shrugged, "You know that Gary as General Manager pretty much runs things."
"I'll go with you," I said. They all looked at me. I shrugged, "Up around Oz, Indonesia, Thailand, India, Red Sea, Suez Canal, Med, Gibraltar and home. Four months, maybe five, easy peasy. Maybe add another month for local sailing down there so I can teach Uncle Tony."
"And university in September?" my mother said.
I knew that would come up. No, I'd never been to school, but via correspondence and the internet I'd followed the English national curriculum and most large cities, especially capitals, had an English school where I could get help from tutors and sit exams. Last year, a year ahead of my peers, I'd passed four A-levels, all grade A, at the International School in Manila. "I've told you, Mum, I'm not ready," I said, "I don't have the social skills or confidence. This would help both, help me to stand on my own two feet. I'll do all the planning, flights, paperwork, visas. It'll be good for me. Don't forget I sailed us alone, on the way from Tahiti to Honolulu, aged fourteen, when you both ate that bad frozen shellfish and had the squits for three days."
Mum winced at both my terminology and the memory.
Dad nodded, looked at my mother and said, "Grace, Jess has more sailing experience than most sailors gain in a lifetime. She has all the qualifications she'll need."
That was it, decision made.
.....
At the port entrance it took fifteen minutes or so to have our passports and paperwork checked before we were issued with passes for kuşadası escort ourselves and the rental car. Next stop was the harbour master, George. "Jess!" he cried, rushing from behind the worn counter and giving me a hug. There were only so many ports in the world and we'd called in at Auckland many times. "How's your mother?"
"Doing well thanks but dad didn't want to leave her. This is my Uncle Tony."
They shook hands then George said, "Well, we've kept her clean and turned the engine over once a week and we lifted her out last month and scraped the hull and keel. You'll need to give her a good check though. Your father said you're staying a month?"
"Provision and shake down for a week then some sailing. Maybe down to Wellington and back. Is Max still running the chandlers?"
"Uh-huh. If he hasn't got what you need he'll get it."
"Do we need to settle any outstanding account?"
"No, your father's covered it. I'll email him a final invoice when you leave."
"Okay thanks."
Liberty was at the end of a Jetty 14, so we parked the car and left our bags for later. I gave Tony a tour of the boat, allocating him my parent's berth, then I ran through some basic rules of life on board. We'd get into the details in the coming days. In the tiny lounge cum dining area cum galley we sat and opened a couple of cold beers kindly provided by George. "We'll unload the car then do a quick supermarket run," I said, "Maybe get some frozen pizzas. Tomorrow we'll do a proper tour of the boat; names of things and stuff. What are you like at knots?"
"Pretty good, I was in the scouts."
I frowned, "Hmm, we'll see. There are six knots on this boat and six only. We have to use the same knots for each purpose. It's no use me needing to untie a fender in an emergency and finding myself staring at a bird's nest. I'll sort out some two-metre lengths so you can practice."
We worked hard that week and Tony, as he insisted I call him, was a fast learner. We covered rope work, sails, GPS, radar, Starlink, depth finder, routines, commands, safety, navigation, fire drills, life raft drills, man overboard and everything else on the checklist I'd prepared. I got him to copy everything I did. "Jeez," he said at one point, "You're like a bloody squirrel, up and down those ropes and stuff." Eighty pounds and five feet tall has its advantages.
Week two was daily sails where we were able put the theory into practice. It was early autumn in the southern hemisphere so still warm. Mostly, we worked in shorts and deck shoes. Tony bare chested, me in a bikini top. He was in good shape and I knew he was watching me. I didn't mind. People say I'm pretty. I like being admired and anyway, he was my uncle so nothing was going to happen.
Things were going so well I brought forward the trip to Wellington by two days. We were lucky with the weather in both directions. We could have done it in six days but took our time and completed it in nine. Then we were back in Auckland for an engine service and re-provisioning. Tony had taken to referring to me as "Boss".
The day came to set off. We'd done all the prep we could. It was an overcast but dry morning with a decent southerly breeze blowing. About twenty people came to see us off, mostly friends we'd made from other boats in the marina, plus George and Max. Next stop, Port Macquarie, New South Wales.
Even after all those years at sea, it still fascinated me how the weather could change by moving north; or south depending on the hemisphere. Perhaps it was a good omen for the rest of the trip but the journey to Oz was idyllic. Sunshine, gentle waves and steady winds. Well, mostly, as you'll hear. A perfect scenario for Tony to literally learn the ropes.
It was day three when I decided to broach a delicate subject. We were taking a break after adjusting the mizzen. "Tony," I said.
"Yes, boss?" he replied, sipping his coffee.
"How much did my dad tell you about life on board?"
"We used to read his blog and he sent us emails. Always with lots of photos."
"Yeah but I mean day to day stuff, like what we ate or how we dressed."
"Only what he put in the blog."
"So nothing specific, like how we dressed when it was warm and we were out of sight of land or other boats."
He looked at me and raised one eyebrow, "What are you getting at?"
"Well, let me put it this way, we're overdressed."
He looked down at his shorts and deck shoes, then across at me. That day I wasn't wearing shorts; I was in a red bikini. His eyes travelled up my legs, lingered at my barely covered pussy before continuing up to my firm B-cup breasts which even though not large were struggling against the tight fabric. Then his eyes met mine. I smiled, hoping that it looked like a reassuring smile. He swallowed, blinked and said, "You want to take your top off?"
"Tony," I said, "Me and my parents travelled to every corner of the globe, mostly naked. I've probably spent three quarters of my life without clothes. kütahya escort There's nothing sexual in it, just freedom. I actually asked my mother once, when I was about ten, why we did it. Do you know what she said?" Tony shook his head. "She said something along the lines of, "We live by the wind, it drives us forward and powers our batteries. We sail on the ocean, feeling it's power, eating it's bounty. The sun gives us warmth and light. Even the earth's magnetic field gives us guidance. We are at one with mother nature. Clothes are... inappropriate, a break in the chain. Does any other creature wear clothes? When we are naked, we are at one with the dolphins, the hummingbirds and the elephants. They are our brothers and sisters, the children of our shared mother." Don't you think that's beautiful?"
He swallowed again and said, though rather weakly, "So you mean naked? Both of us? But I'm your uncle."
"So? I saw my father's penis pretty much everyday for years, even erect sometimes. It's no big deal. To me, it's all completely natural. Trust me, after a day or two you won't even think about it."
"But I might... um... I mean... you're so beautiful and I might... um..."
"Get a stiffy? Mother nature again. A natural reaction. The only thing you need to worry about is sunburn as we go further north." He needed a prompt. Before he could object I had my bikini top off. "See, no tan lines although my tan has faded quite a bit. Just use lots of sunscreen. There's a dozen bottles under the seats of the dinette."
Poor Uncle Tony. He moaned, "Jesus Christ," as he stared at my naked breasts.
"God that feels good," I said, leaning back and opening my legs, my face to the sky.
"But your parents and Aunt Sarah... if they were to..."
"No photos, our secret. But my mum did say to me before we left, "You know how we travel, see if you can get Tony to embrace the life." I don't know about Aunt Sarah, but my parents wouldn't bat an eyelid at photos of us naked. In fact I think they'd be overjoyed."
"I'm not sure, it just doesn't seem right."
"Okay, how about this; I'll go naked and you join me when you feel comfortable." I didn't give him time to respond, just stood, hooked my thumbs into the waistband and pulled my bottoms down.
Tony lasted two hours. Somewhat sheepishly he emerged from the galley onto deck with two cold beers. Earlier, I'd said, "It's no big deal." I was wrong. Of course, like I said, my father sometimes got erections so I knew he had a five-inch cock. Tony didn't take after his brother. It was a big deal. I couldn't help staring. Something deep in me stirred. Despite the warm sun, goosebumps formed on my arms and thighs. Heat seemed to spread from my pussy. There was no foreskin. I could see his helmet shaped head, hanging low at the end of his five-inch cock. It was my turn to swallow. Dad's was five-inches erect. The cock now swinging as Tony walked was five-inches limp.
"You're not exactly helping," he said, holding out a beer.
Keeping one hand on the wheel I took the bottle and said, "Um... sorry... we ah... need to tack, the wind's shifted."
For the next three hours we concentrated, sailing a zigzag course until the wind reverted to a southerly. It had been hard work and Tony looked exhausted. "Go and get your head down for a few hours," I said, "I can manage." No-one gets eight hours sleep at sea on a yacht, especially with a crew of just two. Life becomes a series of two or three hour naps, four at most.
Tony nodded, "Thanks," and went below.
It gave me time to think. We'd worked hard over that three hours, honing our practiced routines and skills to the extent that I no longer had to issue commands. We made a good team and knew what needed to be done. There was one niggle though - naked with me for all of those hours, Tony hadn't got an erection. When I'd said to Tony that being naked was natural, I'd been truthful. Clothing seems odd and restrictive. What I hadn't told him though, was that I'd never been naked with anyone but my parents.
Without sounding vain, I knew I was pretty with a good tight body - endless chat-up lines in the café had told me that, but could I arouse a man? Why hadn't Tony got an erection? What was wrong with my body? Of course, I wasn't going to do anything with his erection, but it would be nice to know that I had 'it'. That I could produce a reaction.
I checked myself over. Perhaps he doesn't like pubic hair? Between my legs I had a full rug of blonde hair. My mother used to shave herself but I'd never bothered. Perhaps...
Steadily, over the next two hours, the wind dropped until it was barely five knots. We were hardly moving. I fired up Starlink and checked the met. No ships in the area were reporting any wind of significance. It happens. I checked the sails and rigging, then the radar, then VesselFinder. Most ships and large yachts have AIS fitted - Automatic Identification System. We have it fitted. It transmits data which is picked up by ground stations and lara escort satellites. There was a tanker 15nm ahead of us on pretty much the same course. To the east, a cruise ship, 21.1nm away was heading southwest.
Nevertheless, I picked up the binoculars and did a 360 degree sweep, just in case there were any small yachts. Nothing. Satisfied that we weren't in for any surprises, I flicked the rope loop over a spoke on the wheel and went below. It took a while but I finally found my mother's Ladyshave.
Scissors, very carefully, then the Ladyshave, then some soothing balm. After a shower I checked myself in the mirror. In my thigh gap I could see my labia, the first time I'd ever seen them exposed like that. Well, since pre-puberty at least. I wondered how quickly Tony would notice.
Talking of which, he'd been down here three hours. He wasn't in a sleep routine yet. Too much daytime sleep and he wouldn't be able to get to sleep when off night watch. I approached his door. The interior of the yacht was fitted out in beautiful mahogany, but to save weight and for durability, the interior doors were quarter-inch veneered marine ply. Soundproof they were not. Just as I raised my hand to knock I heard a low grunt. I paused. There it was again. I bent my ear to the door. "Urgh... urgh... oh yes... oh fuck yes... that's it... suck it baby!"
My eyes shot up. Uncle Tony was knocking one out! Who was "baby"? Aunt Sarah presumably. I listened intently, trying to block out the sound of a cable slapping on the mast. "Fuck yeah... oh that's so good... oh fuck... the head, suck the head... oh Christ... oh Christ... OH CHRIST!... gonna come!... swallow it, Jess!"
I stood upright and staggered back, my hand over my mouth. The thin door did nothing to deaden his orgasmic grunt's. In my mind I could see his cock erupting, spewing jets of hot semen up his broad muscular chest. Semen he apparently wanted me to swallow.
Well, I'd gotten my answer! Silently, I went back on deck, my heart thumping. I wasn't sweet and innocent. I'd heard the sounds of my parent's lovemaking through that door many times. Heard my mother cry out. I'd even sneaked the odd peek, when their door had failed to latch properly and had swung open with the boat's movement. I'd seen them fucking doggy, even 69ing, my mother's head bobbing as she sucked Dad's cock.
But this was different. Someone, Tony, was getting off thinking about me. Me, not his wife.
He emerged on deck half-an-hour later, cock slightly reddened and swinging. "Where's the wind gone?" he said, looking around, "We're hardly movi... Jesus!"
He was staring at my vagina, my pussy, my cunt. I smiled, "Fancied a change. Do you like it? I think it makes me look younger don't you?"
"Christ, Jess, you could've warned me," he said, looking ahead before sneaking another glance.
"You should try it," I said, "Though I suppose having balls makes the task a bit more technical."
"And scary," he laughed but it was a nervous laugh.
"I'll do it if you want. No biggie, it's just flesh and skin."
He didn't reply but his cock definitely twitched. A little plan formed. A naughty plan. "So anyway," I said, "You happy on the wheel? Three two zero degrees, not that we're making much headway. Nothing in the vicinity. I'm gonna fix that brass lacing eye. Meant to do it before we left port."
"Sure," he said, probably glad of the change in subject.
I fetched dad's toolbox from a locker, then found his tobacco tin of teak sawdust and the squeezee bottle of quick drying wood glue. On my knees, bum in the air, I smiled as I undid the four brass screws, one of them, the proud one, turning freely in either direction. Behind me, I knew that Tony had a full view. Brass screws out, I mixed some sawdust and glue on a piece of card. To get lower, I spread my knees. Carefully, I filled the hole of the loose screw, taking my time. I swear to god I could feel his eyes on my buttocks, anus and pussy.
I had to close my eyes and breathe deeply. I was in uncharted waters. I wondered if he had an erection. Pull yourself together I told myself, though it wasn't easy when your vaginal muscles were clenching. I stood. "Half an hour then I'll drill it and refit. Course okay?"
"Um, yeah, fine."
Tony was standing unnaturally off to the right side of the wheel, blocking my view of his lower half. I tried not to grin, but I knew he had a stiffy. For some reason, it made me sigh with pleasure and relief. So I am desirable.
I was a good girl after that, kneeling towards him as I drilled and refitted the lacing eye. Job done, I lowered the swim ladder, deployed the sea anchor and we had a quick swim. By sunset, we were completely becalmed. Not a breath of wind. I checked VesselFinder and spoke over VHF to a motor yacht 14nm to our west heading towards Tasmania. They reported no wind but were engine powered. I didn't want to use ours. I'd rather save the fuel for when it's really needed. The met wasn't very optimistic either.
We had dinner then I said, "Can't see any point in maintaining a watch. We're not in a shipping lane. We'll drop the sails, put the anchor light on, hoist a radar reflector and set the drift alarm on my GPS for five miles just in case, though we've only moved a mile in the last two hours and that was with the sails rigged."