DITA – THE GERMAN SCHOOL TEACHER – A CAMEO

DITA – THE GERMAN SCHOOL TEACHER – A CAMEO

Dita stood out from the crowd that was waiting on the quayside. Most of them were experienced divers, very apparent from the assortment of gear they carried; wet suits, oxygen cylinders, masks, flippers, ballast and depth gauges. Dita stood in a threadbare summer dress and firmly held a book in her hand. They were all Germans and most chatted excitedly about the day that lay ahead. The majority were youngsters but Dita was in her early 50s.

I was the skipper of a tourist boat, specially hired out for sea diving day trips. It was the early start of another hot summer’s day with dawn just peeking over the horizon, but hot enough for me to clamber about in just my swimming trunks, getting the boat ready for the day. It was hard work, checking the engines, the safety equipment and the supplies and my hairy chest glistened with the sweat of my endeavours. I was sun-tanned and muscular, at 28 years old, in my peak and head of my family’s boating business.

Once or twice I caught Dita surreptitiously looking in my direction, eying me up and down. I was too busy about my tasks to pay much attention, but once everything had been checked out, I relaxed and smoked a cigarette and watched the diving party clamber aboard, noisily and with much enthusiasm.

Ahead we had a two hour trip before reaching our location of underwater caves and crystal clear blue seas where the diving party would be off in their rubber dinghies for a few hours of diving bliss, under the supervision of diving instructors. I would remain on the anchored boat, doing a spot of fishing and swimming and maybe getting a little nap.

As Dita tip toed over the gang plank and onto the boat I took a closer view of her body. She was attractive with a full figure and generous hips. Her blonde hair was drawn back in a bun and she had sparkling, blue eyes, almond shaped in an oriental fashion. She had outstandingly white skin, snowdrop white, so white that I guessed the sun wouldn’t do her much good except to turn her to a painful lobster pink.

And she was hairy, not outstandingly so, but hairy enough. She had firm and rounded legs with impressive calves that bristled with blonde hairs, hairs that feminists declined to shave off because that was a sign of self-indulgent capitulation to the male expectancy of female coyness and egoism to please their partners. Her cheesecloth, white dress was so thin it was practically transparent, just barely clothing her firm and rounded buttocks and a generous pair of breasts.

The man with her I assumed to be her husband, a kind of father figure to the young divers, busied himself with making sure all the diving gear was in order. Dita found a place near my bridge cabin, under a canvas awning that would keep the scorching sun off her body once it advanced mercilessly into the blue skies.

“Hello. Good morning and welcome aboard”, I said glancing in her direction.

She smiled beautifully.

“Good morning captain. It’s going to be a lovely day. When do we leave?”

We exchanged a few more pleasantries that established she was not a diver. Her husband was head of the diving party and would go off diving with the others. She would stay behind and read her book and maybe have a swim.

“I am here for the boat trip and to relax. My husband Max will go off diving – he loves it”.

They were both school teachers.

I started the engine and we made good progress, ploughing through the tranquil blue sea. Dita lay back and read her book. Her body language showed total relaxation. She sat on the deck, under the shady awning, her dress revealing her body contours. She tucked up her skirt to reveal her calves and parts of her buttocks, generous, white and rounded flesh and golden hairs that gleamed in the sun.

I let her take the wheel for a while and she was gleeful. I stood close behind her and occasionally steadied the wheel so that our bodies touched and more than once she backed into me so that our flesh made contact. My cock stirred. She chuckled sexily when the boat momentarily jolted and pressed me onto her and I’m sure she felt my cock against her arse.

“Oooohhh…” she said.

After two hours we reached our destination under the shade of some huge cliffs. I dropped and secured the anchor and made ready the dinghies. There was much hustle and bustle as the divers loaded their equipment and settled into the craft. Dita kissed her husband goodbye and waved to him as the craft sped off to their distant destination under the lee of the cliffs.

After all that hustle, there was complete silence except for the rhythmic boat creaks and the occasional small wave lapping the side of the boat. Dita settled down with her book. Half an hour had passed when she stood up and in my full view she flipped off her thin dress and stood in her bra and skimpy panties.

She had a compact but generously proportioned body, glistening white, what I call a “German housewife’s body”, sturdy, ample and with many parts to follow up on, like her perky tits, slightly sagging but still jauntily proud, and very generous buttocks and arse cheeks.

I pretended to busy myself on the bridge but my eyes kept drifting back to her magnetism.

She fumbled in one of the bags her husband had left behind and pulled out a large bottle of fragrant oil. She unhooked her bra and casually slipped it off.

“Would you?” she said, holding out the bottle for me to take. “I want to sun bathe but I have to be very careful”.

She lay down on her back on the deck and spread-eagled, her hands and legs wide apart as if she were about to be crucified on an “X” cross. I just could not keep my cock from bulging in my swimming trunks – it was atrociously rampant. She eyed the bulge and smiled contentedly.

“Uuummmm…” she said, softly, dreamily.

I took up position near her toes, preparing to begin to oil her legs and calves.

“Not like that,” she said gently. “You have to do it professionally. Sit astride me with your back to my face and start from my toes and work upwards”. I did as bid but did not actually sit on her so that my balls and prick hovered just over her tits.

I liberally splashed oil on my hands and leaned slightly forward to start massaging her toes. My swimming trunks were small and skimpy and my ball sac bulged under the strain, the material hugging my cock even more tightly. I slowly massaged her toes.

I felt her hand encase her fingers around my ball sac, and with the elegant nail of her forefinger she traced the outline of my bulging cock, slightly digging into the tautness of my cock head.

“You have a very large cock”, she said casually. “Show me it”.

Without waiting for a reply her hands firmly took hold of my trunks and yanked them down to my buttocks so that my balls and stiff prick dangled in freefall over her face. I felt her wet tongue exploring my scrotum.

I splashed on more and more oil and vigorously kneaded the lubricant into her ankles and up her legs, giving special attention to her rounded calves. Her hairs were flattened against her flesh. She groaned and attacked my ball sac more lustily, sweeping her wet tongue under my balls and grabbing my rampant prick she began to masturbate me.

I stood up and squirted oil over her belly and tits and then I sat on her and began squirming the oil into her flesh with my balls and my prick. With my hands I spread the oil over her buttocks and began to lubricate her cunt flaps. They were large, generous and puckered and when I thrust the oil into her cunt, it was large and expansive and obviously very well used. She would make a good fuck, but not a tight one.

For some time we squirmed over each other in a holy mess of squelching, lubricant oil. She took my cock in her mouth and strenuously lapped at it making it more than obvious she was
hungry for cock. I did justice to her cunt, attacking it lustily with my lips and tongue and really eating her out. Dreamily she strok
ed the mass of hairs on my chest and back. I was hirsute, a real bear covered in a carpet of hairs. My muscular, brown sun-tanned body contrasted sharply to her snow white skin.

Our moans and groans pierced the air and although sounds are carried distances over water, there was nobody around for miles. We had the sea to ourselves.

She made me turn her over and I attacked her glistening arse, handling each arse cheek like bread dough, kneading it, slapping it, pinching it, patting it and then giving it a good licking, deep into her asshole recess.

I completed her total massage so that her flesh was seeped in lubricant and my hands slid all over her gleaming, white body, groping and probing her body parts with the lust and enthusiasm of an avaricious young man handling the sexual appetite and needs of an older woman. My cock was peeked to bursting point, needing to find a haven in one of her holes.

I lay on top of her, our lips intertwining and slobbering each other in a frenzy of oral orgy, our bodies slipping and sliding over each other.

She held me close and looked deeply into my eyes and with German precision she said, “Now it’s time to fuck me hard”.

She slid me off her and stood up. She walked onto the bridge and stationed herself over the wheel, gripping it firmly with both hands and standing legs apart in preparation for my entry.

I eased open her cunt lips and made preparations for entry.

“No, no”, she said. “Not there. I want you to fuck my bum, hard. It’s much tighter there. I want you to have a tight fuck and to feel your cock right inside me”.

I held her arse cheeks open and liberally applied oil to her arse hole, dipping two fingers deep inside her hole and lubricating the cavities of her arse, deep inside. I wiped the excess oil over my rod and gave it a few flips so that it stood taut and expectant. She gripped the wheel more firmly and braced herself for my entry.

Holding her arse hole wide open, the tip of my cock slid into her cavity as I gently eased myself inside her. Her arse walls tightened to envelope it, taking my cock right inside her, right up to my balls. I eased myself gently backwards and then forwards again and then began a fucking motion, holding her harder and harder.

It was true. She had a fairly tight arse hole. I felt the walls of her cavity tighten and relax its hold on my prick, generating the friction on my foreskin that was sending me into groaning raptures. In response she urged me on.

“Harder, harder, fuck me harder”.

I grabbed her tits and positioned her firmly. Her skin was resplendent with lubricant oil and glistened, my gripping finger marks leaving sausage like pink strips over her snow white flesh. I tried to hold back my climax to prolong the agony but I felt myself slipping dangerously.

When I came it was hard, fast and furious. My whole body shook madly so that I even felt my teeth rattling. Streams of cum oozed into her arse hole, squelching and mingling with the lubrication oil. She flopped over the wheel and absorbed the cum flow into her arse hole, feeling hot flush after hot flush being injected into her.

Exhausted, we both lay over each other on the wheel.

Seconds later she took a running dive and cascaded into the deep blue sea and I followed her. She whooped and cavorted, and I with her as we felt the cooling pleasure of easing the heat out of our bodies.

She dried herself off, dabbed a little oil over her body parts and put on her bra and panties and then her dress and sat down in her shady corner, absorbed in her book.

When the party of divers returned she ran gleefully to welcome her husband Max, giving him a plump and fruity kiss on his wet lips. He held her tight and I guessed they were asking each other how they had spent the day, he describing the dive and she – probably – telling him she had spent a peaceful day reading her book.

The journey back was uneventful. She sat snuggled up to Max and as the sun began its descent he wrapped a heavy towel over her shoulders.

When we reached journey’s end and they disembarked she looked at me briefly and said curtly, “Thank you for a nice day captain. We return to Germany tomorrow”.

“Really” I replied. “Have a pleasant trip and a good flight”.

PHOENIX4624th April 2007