She called me a few minutes later:
“I’m ready, come on.”
It was summer, but she was wearing a corset top with a garter belt, revealing her breasts, and black stockings. Some men turned around as she passed, mainly to admire her beauty. It had become so erotic that it could give a Senegalese regiment a hard-on. The men were not indifferent to her appearance and her bare breasts. The sea was calm at first. She found a certain pleasure in pressing the fabric against her body, pretending to dry herself. Soaked, Sylvie’s dress clung to her skin. After composing herself, she got out of the shower, wrapped in a large towel. After a few sucks on his miniature penis, she stiffened with uncontrollable pleasure. We boarded the boat and I suggested we sit at the back, where, normally, there’s less movement, and especially not in the cabin where the lack of air could make her sick. The men were not indifferent to her appearance and her bare breasts. Our lips met intensely, my hands lingering on his chest.
