Jack and Jessie struggled their way down the stairs in the pitch black. Jessie turned an ankle and stubbed a toe in her high heels until she abandoned them. Jack hit his head on an overhanging branch. But, eventually, they made it to Jay Bird. They slept, restlessly and still in their clothes, for a few hours.

When they woke, hungover, they both wondered if perhaps a warm bath, and a night in a real bed, might have been worth the price of hanging out a while longer with some slightly scary freaks. If it hadn’t been for the note, essentially telling them to get out, it had been an odd, but entertaining evening. They didn’t acknowledge it to one another, but they were each more than a little turned on by the flirtatious Clare and Winston. And the pictures of all those beautiful servants fucking around with them, while shocking, were exciting, as well.

“It would be even weirder if we went back up there, now. Right?” Jessie asked, knowing the answer. Jack acknowledged her rhetorical question with a nod as he handed her a cup of tepid instant coffee.

“Yeah. Awkward on top of awkward. Let’s get out of here,” Jack said. Jessie quickly pulled-off her useless skirt and blouse, but didn’t take the time to put on a bathing suit. In just her lace thong she untied the dock lines and pushed Jay Bird off as Jack backed her out.

They took the boat out of the cove under power in the pre-dawn light. In the partial darkness, navigating the shallows was especially difficult. When the wind picked up, it got even harder. And when the tide seemed to drop right before their eyes, it was positively frightening.

Jack worked the helm with white knuckles. Jessie stood at the bow, clinging to the forestay and leaning over the bowsprit marking coral heads. She pointed and called out directions to Jack as he motored forward at just a couple of knots.

“It wasn’t this hard coming in,” Jack shouted over the hum of the diesel.

“My god,” Jessie called back, “it’s like someone pulled the plug on the ocean. And between the chop and the light, it’s hard to see anything until we are right on top of it. We have to get to deeper water, Jack,” she said, looking back toward Jack in the stern. “Um…looks like we’ve got company.”

Jack turned to see Winston and Clare’s yacht, Talkies, in full sail. What in the hell? Jack thought. He wasn’t sure he was reassured, or alarmed at the site of it, but he was definitely impressed. That is some sailing, he thought to himself as he watched Talkies heeled over in the wind while still making precise turns to avoid every coral head.

At that moment there was a horrible crunching sound and Jessie was nearly thrown over the bow as the boat came to a very sudden halt.

“God dammit!” Jack shouted. They had hit the reef and run aground. A quick inspection showed the hull was undamaged, but the fin keel was wedged into the coral. They wouldn’t be going anywhere, and the way the wind and seas were going, the boat, and perhaps they themselves, would be battered to death. Over the wind they could faintly hear someone calling to them.

“Jack! Jessie! Here!”

They turned to see Clare and Winston on deck. Clare was shouting into an old fashioned megaphone. Winston stood on Talkies’ stern, a life saver in hand. He threw it out, and then expertly managed the current and the line in his hand to angle it toward Jay Bird.

Jack and Jessie hesitated, but when white caps flowed over the transom, they knew they had no choice. However weird it was going to be, it was better than being dead. Jessie gave Jack a kiss and then jumped into the sea. She was a strong swimmer, but it was still a challenge to make it the fifty feet through rough water to get to the life line. Jack battened the hatch, tore-off his clothes, and dove in after Jessie. For once, I really wish I hadn’t gone commando, Jack thought as he swam to Jessie. Winston pulled them to the boat, and Clare tossed down a rope ladder.

Clare wordlessly handed them white Turkish towels, then set about reefing the luffed mainsail and jib, as Winston reefed the mizzen and turned Talkies back to the wind. In a daze, Jack watched their saviors scurry about the long yacht. With her self-furling job, and easy-reef mainsail, Jack or Jessie could pilot Jaybird, single handed. Hell, they could even set the autopilot for long stretches. On more than one occasion they had gone below to tear-off a quick fuck, as Jay Bird happily went along on her own.

Talkies had no such modern conveniences. What winches she had were archaic bottom-turners. The lines, remarkably, were made of hemp. The oversized blocks were made of brass and wood. The masts and booms were Canadian birch. The decks were thick teak. And, yet, everything was as if brand new.

As much as Jack was astounded by the vintage accuracy of the yawl, Jessie was amazed at Winston and Clare’s unwavering obsession with vintage clothing. They were running about the deck in old fashioned wool tank suits. She itched just thinking about it.

As absurd as their bathing suits were, they still showed more of Winston and Clare than either of them had seen up to now. Clare had the legs of a Ziegfeld dancer. Her staggering rack had already been on display the night before in her emerald gown, but somehow bouncing around on deck it was all the more mesmerizing. Jessie glanced at Jack, and she smiled as his eyes followed Clare around the yacht. As a brief balancing, Jessie gave Winston the once over. The square jaw, the shoulders, the pecs, the tennis thighs, were all fine, but it was the bulge at the bottom of the tank suit that captured most of her attention.

Once Talkies was in deeper water, the waves quickly settled and the battering gusts became a steady ten-knot breeze. Clare and Winston set the boat downwind and everything was suddenly calm. With the wind behind them the sails didn’t much need tending, and it was quiet and warm. Clare took a seat next to Jack and Jessie.

“You had us scared. It’s lucky Winston saw the top of your mast headed out. That king tide has taken more than one vessel in these waters,” Clare shared, as Winston shot her a look.

“What are the odds Jay Bird will survive?” Jessie asked, realizing in that moment that while they may have saved their lives, they may have lost their living.

“I think she may make it,” Winston answered, “These freak tides don’t last long. We’ll take a wide circle around the island. By the time we get back, there should be enough water for safe passage. Cynthia and Thomas will meet us there, and between the two of us, we might be able to get Jay Bird off the reef.

Jack and Jessie would have relaxed at that point, were it not for the fact that they were naked, or nearly naked, in front of these odd strangers. Clare sensed their unease.

“I’d offer you clothes, if we had any on board,” Clare said. Jack, with just the towel covering his groin, gave her an understanding wave. Clare smiled and shrugged, and then peeled her suit off. Jessie glanced around to see Winston doing the same.

“We wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, darlings,” Winston said with a laugh. Neither Jessie nor Jack were sure that mutual nudity was the solution they were looking for. Bizarrely, however, they found themselves getting excited by their beautiful hosts, once more. Jessie eyed Clare’s full body, and full chestnut bush, and peeled-off her thong to share her waxed peach.

“Oh that’s wonderful, dear!” Clare remarked with a wink.

They rounded the island onto the leeward side. The wind promptly died. The nude foursome worked together to let out and adjust the sails, but in the end the most they could muster was a knot of speed.

“How do you darlings fill the time during a lull?” Winston asked. His engorged cock and Clare’s fondling of her own breasts provided a clue to their own habits. The truth was that Jack and Jessie often spent lulls the same way: fucking. Clare stepped over, gave Jessie a gentle kiss, and then straddled Jack. Winston took Jessie by the hand and led her to the aftdeck.

Jack and Jessie weren’t really the swinging type. Sure, they had a wild time or two at a couple of the resorts that had comp’d them, over the last year or so. That had been fucking in front of other couples; not fucking with other couples. But for reasons neither understood, they felt compelled to do so, now. Maybe it was because they had come so close to dying. Maybe it was because Winston and Clare had been the ones to save them. Or maybe it was just that they were so damned sexy.

Clare posted up and down on Jack’s long cock, as he pinched, sucked and bit her stiff nipples. “That’s it, Jack, don’t be gentle,” she sighed.

Winston wasted no time before diving into Jessie’s bald pussy. “Oh, fuck, yes, Jesus, that’s a hell of a tongue you have!” Jessie squealed. “I need that big Hollywood cock of yours, though,” she moaned. What she meant was she wanted him driving into her cunt. What she got instead was him spinning over top of her without ever lifting his mouth from her vulva, into a sixty-nine. Jessie stuck her tongue out and took his uncut, salty dick into her throat.

A few feet away, Clare was doing the same. She had dismounted and dropped to her knees. She licked her juice from Jack’s rod, then practically inhaled him as she massaged his balls. Jack enjoyed the feeling of Clare’s mouth, as he watched his beautiful girlfriend locked in a sodomy embrace with Winston. It was the sexiest thing he had ever seen, and it made him hungry to taste pussy, too.

Jack re-positioned Clare on the cockpit seat on all fours, facing Winston and Jessie as they sixty-mined. He pressed his face into the curly, brown down of Clare’s puss, parting it with his nose and mouth until he found her warm, wet, briny center. Clare moaned and reached around to pull Jack’s face even more tightly into her twat.

“She is so beautiful, Winston,” Clare moaned, referring to Jess. “You are so beautiful, my love,” she said.

Her words prompted Winston to make a change. As wonderful as it was to have Jessie’s naked pussy and puckered asshole in his face, he wanted to watch his wife being pleasured, too. Jessie whimpered as he withdrew his mouth and cock, but moaned in wanton approval as Winston entered her from behind. They were now facing toward the bow, with the edging Clare so close Jessie could almost reach out and stroke her hair.

“Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me, hard, like my husband is doing to your girl.” At her urging, Jack stood behind Clare, and shoved his cock in, to her hilt. The couples mirrored one another now, in sound as well as in light. Jessie and Clare moaned, mewed, and grunted in near unison as the men fucked them. Jack and Winston copied one another as they pounded away. If one spanked the ass, or pulled the hair, of their switched partners, the other would do the same.

The girls sexy utterances became louder, more frequent, and nastier.

“Look..at me…being…fucked…Jack! It’s…a-ma-zing!” Jessie haltingly groaned on Winston’s outstrokes.

“This cock is good, Winston. So good. We’ve found another good one!” Clare moaned as Jack roughly pulled her head back by her short wavy bob.

Jessie’s noises changed, subtly, in frequency and pitch. No one else would have noticed, but Jack knew that it meant she was closing in on an orgasm — and likely a big one. She was now pushing her glorious ass back against Winston’s pounding.

“That’s it! That’s it! Fuck her hard, Winnie! Fuck her into the other world!” Clare implored her husband at the same time that she began her own orgasmic contractions.

Jack was used to the intensity of Jessie’s orgasms. Indeed, her highly orgasmic nature was one of the things he loved most about her. But, the velvet vice that was Clare’s vagina was a whole other thing. His own fist couldn’t grip him any tighter than Clare’s walls did as she rhythmically spasmed.

Jessie’s eyes rolled back in her head, and she saw stars, as the most intense orgasm she could remember ripped through her. “Aahhhhhhhhh!” She groaned as she felt Winston shoot into her cunt. Her stars exploded into super-novas as she momentarily blacked-out and her elbows buckled underneath her.

At nearly the same time, Jack began his own chain reaction from deep within his body. A burn that was nearly painful that at the same time felt like an incredible release started at his ass, passed through his prostate, and then his balls, and finally through the full length of his long cock. He looked to the sky and growled like a triumphant bear as he felt like the blue sky above him enveloped his whole being.

The four lay against the warm wood of the deck and cockpit, breathless, when a steady breeze stirred them from their reverie. Jessie extricated herself in a stupor. As she attempted to scoot from the mizzen deck to join her boyfriend in the cockpit, it was evident that a large stream of Winston’s spunk was running from her overfilled cunnie.

“Mmmm, sweetie,” Clare mewed as she placed her mouth between Jessie’s legs to lap up the excess. Jack had long fantasized about seeing his pretty blonde girlfriend with another woman, but all but abandoned the fantasy. Jessie offered no resistance and rolled into another small round of tremors as she squeezed-out gobs of Winston’s issue. The real surprise for Jack, however, was when Clare offered her own soiled pussy to Jessie, and she dove in without inhibition. Winston broke out his ancient Leica and snapped photos of it all, including the naked and erect Jack looking on happily.

In time, Winston and Clare got Talkies moving again on a light reach. Jessie and Jack cuddled on the foredeck. Though there was a good chance that they had lost their boat, that they had come close to losing their lives, and that they had just “swung” with a pair of very odd strangers, they were remarkably at peace. When Winston steered Talkies into the back cove, rather than continuing on to check on Jay Bird, neither Jack nor Jessie raised a word. To their pleasant surprise, when they cleared the point there were four yachts in the little harbor, where there previously were three, and one of them, was Jay Bird.

“Will we ever leave here?” Jessie asked. Jack didn’t answer. He just stared at the big white house in the hill.