I Boarded the Catamaran Alone and Got Off Being Everyone’s

The sun had not quite finished rising when I reached the pier. The morning air was still cool, but it already smelled of salt, seaweed, and summer just beginning. The catamaran waited there, white and gleaming, its canvas taut and timid music drifting from speakers only half-awake. I boarded with a steady stride, though inside my heart was beating faster than I wanted to admit. Something in me was asking for more than a trip around the bay.

I was wearing a bronze-colored bikini that barely covered what it had to. The back string disappeared between my buttocks, and the top triangle barely contained my breasts. I felt the looks from the moment I stepped onto the deck: men’s looks, women’s too, some discreet and others direct, shameless. I pretended not to notice them. I played with my loose hair, with the sunglasses hanging from my cleavage, with my own smile, while accepting the first shot of tequila. The taste went down like fire and warmed my chest. Then came rum and Coke, dark and sweet, ice tinkling in the glass, along with that effect that convinces you anything is possible.

The engine roared, and the music rose with it. Reggaeton, deep bass, the rhythm stamping itself into the floor as the boat moved away from the harbor. The sun began to heat things up, sticky against skin damp with mist. Another drink, another shot, and I could already feel the heat climbing, and it wasn’t just the alcohol or the reflection off the water.

When the entertainer shouted over the microphone for all the girls to come up and dance, I didn’t think twice. I went up with my glass in hand, the sea glittering behind me and the wind tangling my hair. There were several of us, bikinis in every color, barefoot on the hot deck, laughing and letting ourselves be carried away by a bass line that made even the soles of our feet vibrate.

The guy with the water guns didn’t take long to aim them at us. The cold streams slid over my burning skin, plastered the fabric against me like a second layer, and made me arch my back involuntarily. The music, the rum, the sun, and all those eyes made me feel light, daring, capable of anything.

That was when I saw her. Tanned skin, a tiny red bikini, a smile that promised trouble. She came toward me dancing, her hips marking the beat. First she brushed against my arm. Then my waist. I laughed, thinking it was part of the game, a dance between strangers to entertain the crowd. But when her hands lowered to my buttocks and squeezed them boldly, I understood there was nothing innocent about it.

People started chanting. Whistles, shouts, glasses held high. I no longer heard any of it. I felt her hot breath on my neck, her fingers tangled in the bikini string, her breasts brushing against mine. And I let myself go, moving my hips against her, letting her do as she pleased while I felt my own nipples harden beneath the fabric.

—Relax, the day is still young —she told me in my ear, laughing.

The water guy soaked me again, and the icy stream drew a quiet moan from me, lost in the music. The entire deck applauded as if we were part of a rehearsed act.

Suddenly I felt a body behind me. One of the crewmen, dark-haired, tall, his bare torso gleaming with sweat, pressed himself against us. His erection showed against my ass while his hands held me by the waist. My heart pounded against my chest, alcohol hummed through my veins, and the sea seemed to be rocking harder than usual.

The girl in the red bikini turned toward him and, as if they had rehearsed it, he lifted me into his arms with an ease that left me breathless. The deck erupted. I tried to cover myself, but she was quicker: she pulled my bikini string aside, and the sun reached the place no one had looked at yet.

A murmur traveled across the boat, followed by laughter. And then I felt it: her tongue. A quick, wet, shameless touch that drew a sound from me I couldn’t swallow.

—No, wait! —I said, though even I didn’t entirely believe myself.

The crowd roared. In the middle of the uproar, the knot at the top came undone, and one of my breasts was left exposed. Not even a second passed before another guy bent down, caught it in his mouth, and tugged my nipple until I gasped louder.

When they finally set me down, my legs were trembling. I tried to adjust the fabric with my hands, but there was no turning back inside me now. I went down the stairs toward the inside lounge, looking for shelter, heat burning between my thighs.

Footsteps followed behind me. Laughter. Looks. Guys. Girls. All of them with the same idea etched in their eyes.

***

The lounge smelled of sea, rum, and sweat. Low lights flickered with every beat of the bass, painting the space red and gold, shadows shifting with the catamaran’s sway. I felt the change on my skin: hotter, heavier, thicker with desire.

I had taken barely two steps when soft but firm hands seized my waist. My back struck a padded wall, and a body pressed against mine. Her breath brushed my neck before I heard her husky voice.

—Don’t hide, gorgeous —she whispered, her lips barely touching my ear.

My knees trembled. She didn’t wait for an answer. Her hands moved down to the bikini knot, pulled, and undid it in one motion. The fabric slid over my wet skin to the floor. A collective moan swept through the lounge, but I had no time to think about it: her mouth closed over my right nipple, hungry, sucking until it reached the edge of pain.

I felt another presence. A second girl, shorter, knelt at my feet and began moving slowly up my legs, her lips brushing my thigh, her hands slow and dangerous. When she reached the bottom string, she moved it aside and, without warning, her hot tongue swept over me completely.

—Ahhh… —the sound escaped me on its own, high-pitched and impossible to stop.

The murmur in the lounge became panting. I opened my eyes and discovered we weren’t alone: men and women surrounded us, drinks in hand, lips parted, watching everything.

A male body pressed against my back. Tall, broad, hard. I felt his chest against me, his breathing in my ear, and his erection pressing into my ass.

—Keep still and enjoy it —he said in a deep voice, holding my hips while his fingers slid over my belly.

The tongue between my legs grew more insistent, playing with my clitoris, moving lower and farther back, while I arched uncontrollably. My hands searched for something to brace myself against and found only bodies, skin, and heat.

The orgasm came without warning. Brutal, electric. My knees buckled, my back arched, and a hoarse cry escaped me as I shook against that mouth that wouldn’t stop.

***

They didn’t let me rest. Two girls took me by the arms and led me to the center of the lounge, where he was waiting, seated. They called him Mateo, a tall, brown-skinned man with a crooked smile and an erection that seemed impossible.

—Come here —he ordered without taking his eyes off me.

My heart was exploding, but my legs moved on their own. I sat on him and felt him open me inch by inch until he was completely inside. I threw my head back, and a long moan filled the lounge.

Two mouths bent over me at once. One caught my right nipple between gentle teeth; the other bit my left until I cried out. I moved on him as if my life depended on it, hands digging into his chest, while he set the pace from my hips, deep, slow, devastating.

—Like that… don’t stop —I panted, lost, while the entire lounge watched us.

The second orgasm crashed over me like a wave. I trembled and arched, and he grunted beneath me, finishing with a shudder that drew another moan from me and left my fingernails marked in his skin.

As soon as I climbed off his lap, hands turned me around. I felt the sofa behind me and, suddenly, I was on all fours, ass raised, the bikini string hanging to one side.

The first to approach was one of the younger ones, the tip already wet. He positioned himself behind me, gripped my hips, and sank into me with a thrust that drew a scream from me.

—God…! —I panted, arching my back.

The sound of his skin striking mine filled the lounge. Each blow was deeper, wilder. My hair stuck to my sweaty face, my moans mingling with those all around me.

To my left, one girl was riding another’s mouth, her head thrown back. In the distance, two men took turns with a woman, all of them gleaming with sweat. To my right, two girls kissed hungrily while a guy approached them. The entire lounge was one breathing body.

Every scene turned me on more. Every sound, every gasp, every slap of wet skin against wet skin.

—More, more… —I begged, pushing my hips backward, offering myself without a shred of shame.

A hand seized my hair and pulled as the guy sped up behind me, moving in and out with perfect strokes. I felt the orgasm building again, slow and hot, until it shattered me in a convulsion that left me trembling.

***

Another body took the place behind me. Thicker, hotter. In front of me, another girl was also on all fours, receiving him just as I was. Our eyes met through tears of pleasure; we drew close and kissed deeply, hungrily, while our bodies were thrust into at the same time. Our tongues tangled, our moans blending together.

The men behind us seemed synchronized. Every thrust made us cry out together. I clung to his shoulders, she clung to mine, and the lounge filled with wet sounds and broken breathing. Someone came in another corner with a cry; the smell of sex became suffocating. And I didn’t want it to stop. I couldn’t. My body belonged to everyone, and I wanted it that way.

Two hands guided me again, this time to the large sofa. The girl I had kissed came with me. They placed us shoulder to shoulder, both of us raised up, legs spread, hair falling across our faces. I felt the hot tip pressing against me, and a second later the thrust filled me completely. Beside me, she moaned just as loudly. The sofa rocked with every stroke.

—More… —she panted between kisses, and I could only nod, pushing backward to take all of him.

The heat was unbearable. The salty taste of sweat, the filthy murmur all around us, everything mixed together into something that made me lose control. When the orgasm came, it came violently: I arched, dug my nails into the leather sofa, and a hoarse scream tore from my throat as I clenched around him.

I had no time to breathe. They took me to the floor, where the catamaran’s rocking made everything seem to move beneath my body. Two men approached, one in front and one behind. I felt their hands opening me, preparing me for something I was already begging for on my own.

The first entered me from the front, slowly at first, deeply afterward. The second pressed farther back until he sank inside too. I screamed, an animal sound, while my nails scratched the floor and my body arched between them.

The rhythm was wild and yet perfect. Every thrust pulled a filthy moan from me, tears of pure pleasure running down my cheeks. I felt every movement, every blow. My body burned, trembled, surrendered again and again, until the final orgasm split me in two.

It was brutal. Endless. I shook all over, my voice breaking into a muffled scream, and fell onto my side, exhausted, while they continued panting over me until the end.

The entire lounge smelled of sex and sweat, rum and salt. Exhausted bodies, ragged breathing, the sea roaring outside as if applauding all that chaos.

The catamaran kept rocking gently, keeping time with my tremors. I was naked, covered in sweat and the marks of other people’s hands, and all I could do was smile with my heart racing.

I belonged to everyone. And I loved it.