Stowaway Sex Party

Gorgeous student Kelly regularly stows away on private yachts so she can experience the type of holiday she'd never be able to afford. But when she's spotted by hunky deck hands Nate and Zane, they threaten to tell the ship's owner what she's up to... unless she cuts them a very special deal.

Advisory: This sizzling 5,000-word story includes graphic descriptions of reluctant sex and a threesome with two of the hottest studmuffin sailors a girl's likely to meet

Excerpt

A brown hand pushed the door open and the guy who'd been serving drinks was standing in the doorway, glaring at me.

"Have you lost your way to your cabin?" he asked pointedly, his green eyes flashing with anger. He had a slight accent, which I found difficult to place. Australian, perhaps, or maybe South African.

"Oh, silly me!" I bluffed. "The doors don't have numbers on, you see, and I must have got confused..."

My voice trailed off as he looked at me with contempt.

"Try to come up with a more convincing story next time," he said. "I was pretty sure you weren't on Josh's guest list when I brought you your drink. I wish I'd acted on my instincts then."

I didn't see the point in trying to deny it any more.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

His voice was cold. He seemed oblivious to my charm. I wanted to ramp up the damsel in distress act and throw myself on his mercy, but I didn't want to lower myself and anyway, I doubted he'd fall for it.

"What do you think I'm going to do? I'm going to see Josh and I'm sure he'll agree with me that the best way to deal with uninvited guests - or stowaways, to give you your proper name - is to turn the boat around and take you back to port. Oh, and call the police, of course, so that we can get your details and bill you for the inconvenience.

"You should have done your homework, lady. Josh isn't going to be swayed by your charms. He's gay, to start with, so you're not going to be able to flirt your way out of this one."

I hung my head and I could feel a huge tear forming on my lower eyelashes. I wasn't faking it. This had never happened to me before.

"Please don't," I begged. "I can't afford to pay a bill like that. I'm a student and I've already taken out so many loans. I can't afford to go on holiday. This is the only way I can..."

But he interrupted me. I might as well have been talking to a brick wall.

"So why don't you sign up for a working holiday like the rest of us? Do you think I've got loads of money? Do you think I enjoy serving drinks and food to a whole load of rich guys and being run off my feet? No. But I understand I've got to work for a living instead of wiggling my ass at people and freeloading and lying."

He'd hit me where it hurts. I'd never really felt bad about what I did before, but now I felt guilty. And afraid.

He looked at me scornfully.

"I'm going to lock you in here while I get Josh. And he can decide what we do. But whatever happens, it's gonna cost you."

"Wait," I begged. "There's got to be a way..."

I was thinking quickly. He stared at me. Then I noticed something through my tears. He might have been scowling, but his body was sending me other signals. The biggest hard-on I had ever seen was packing out the front of his denim shorts.

My gaze traveled slowly up his buff body back to his face. He reddened as he realized what I was looking at, but he looked angry rather than embarrassed.

"Perhaps there's a way we can sort this out," he said roughly.