5 comments/ 29502 views/ 4 favorites The Not-So-Innocent Voyage Ch. 01 By: Cndrlla69 In this story, the role of Mandy will be played by cndrlla69, the role of Greg will be played by her anonymous Prince. We hope you enjoy our story and look forward to more of our tale. Mandy * Plane rides are great places to think. I tried to read, but the lull of the engines soon had my book settled in my lap and my mind drifting. I recalled the past year since my divorce. It had been difficult for me after 16 years to be on my own with three children. I never would have made it through without the support of my three best friends, Mysty, Mary, and Maggy. In grade school we had been known as the Four Emigos. We had been inseparable then and ever since. Now, turning 40, I had the rest of my life to look forward to...alone. My friends had recognized my sadness. They had gotten together and given me an early birthday present, a ticket for a weeklong cruise in the Caribbean and a free week of Emigo babysitting services. My kids would be completely spoiled by the time I returned. I had been instructed to take nothing with me; a whole new wardrobe was awaiting me in my cabin; everything I would need would be there. I had, of course, cheated, and packed a small carry-on bag of necessities. I had never been on a cruise. Vacations like that were commonplaces for the other three M's, but not for me. My husband and I had never been able to afford something like this. I had no idea what to expect. The one thing that I did know was that I would try to enjoy myself. Let myself go a bit. I had never done one daring thing in my life. This was my chance to try, to be a new person, to begin again. With that determination in mind, I strapped in for our landing in Miami and was soon exiting the plane into heat that blasted my breath away. This would definitely take some getting used to. During the shuttle ride to the ship my head swiveled constantly from side to side trying to take everything in from the busy streets and shops and buildings to the swaying palm trees. When I could smell the ocean, I knew we were getting close. My first glimpse of the ship I would be sailing on for this coming week, however, took my breath away. Gleaming white in the sun, she was gigantic! My first thought was how could anything that large actually float? Moreover, she was visibly covered with mysterious gadgets to learn about and undoubtedly filled with hidden delights to be found. I grinned at the thought of exploring, to hell with my tendency to get lost; at least here I could not get TOO lost. The edges of the ship would limit me, and there would be crew everywhere to set me back on the right path. The sense of marvel really hit home moments later as I strolled up the gangplank into the lobby. It was amazing. I stood with my mouth gaping at all the gleaming brass fittings, the gracefully winding staircases, and the paneled ceiling stories above me. Unfortunately, as my head tipped back and I ogled, my feet continued walking. Next thing I knew I was ungracefully falling through the air. All I could think was, "Damn it you klutz, you've done it again." Expecting to hit the solid floor one step down, I was startled to land instead on hard softness. Looking up into green eyes, I realized I had been caught in the arms of a handsome stranger. "Lord," I thought, "how embarrassing, what a first impression, but so typical." He grinned at me and set me back on my feet. "You okay?" he asked, his voice a gentle balm on my frayed nerves. "Um," I answered, totally tongue-tied. "Sure. Ah, I gotta go check in. Um, thanks for catching me." "My pleasure. I think check in is that way." He pointed left toward a desk. "You may want to sit down next time you want to check out the ceilings here. That way you won't fall down," he chuckled. "Well ha friggin' ha," I snapped at him as I turned toward the desk. "Well, he certainly isn't any knight in shining armor," I thought grumpily. "Great, first person I meet saves me, then gets snarky, and pisses me off." The staff at the desk handled me expertly and soon I was being ushered to my cabin by a steward. I had expected to descend decks to get there: after all I thought, one person equaled small room in my mind, and small rooms are lower on these things. Instead, he led me up one of the winding staircases and down a passageway. He slid my card into the lock and stepped back for me to enter. All I could think was "Holy Fucking Shit!" The Em's had outdone themselves. It was a large room with a single queen bed and a small separate sitting area with a table and two chairs. A door on the far wall had to lead to the bathroom. The cabin boasted a large flat screen TV and nice artwork. What drew my attention, however, was the entire wall of windows. I was drawn like a magnet to look out them. Right now all I could see was the dock, but at sea this would be wonderful, and then I noticed the private balcony. Heaven! The steward had put down my small bag on the bed and quietly taken his leave while I had been ogling my surroundings. I looked around a bit more. Sitting on the small dresser was a basket of gourmet cookies shaped like of all things chocolate covered strawberries, my favorite! Oh yum, they certainly had made this send off fantastic. What about clothes though; I had brought very little. The dresser drawers were empty so I checked the closet. Inside I found two brand new suitcases standing side by side with my name on the luggage tags. Like a small child I clapped my hands and dragged them out into the room. Like my grown-up self, however, I was terrified to open them. Who knew what the Em's had cooked up? A wave of exhaustion swept over me. I glanced at the papers with itineraries and information on the table. Normally, I would have been all over them, reading everything, planning. Instead, I flopped down on my back on the bed. Within minutes I was sound asleep. I might have slept until evening, but the blasting of the ship's horn, the shudder of the engines, and the unfamiliar swaying motion startled me awake. Deciding that I'd rather be clean than hike up on deck to drink (which I rarely do anyway) and wave good-bye to people I did not know, I hopped in the shower. After the hot, steamy, refreshing goodness, I stepped out on my little balcony to towel dry my hair in the heat. This was nice, so relaxing, no one to worry about except myself. Stepping back inside, I looked back and forth between my little carry-on and the mysterious new suitcases. Still too chicken to see what they had packed, I pulled my tankini, a cover-up, flip-flops, and my trashy novel from the carry-on. Five minutes later, satisfied with my appearance, I was prepared to get lost just trying to find the pool. I made it to my destination without having to stop anyone for directions, getting turned around, or even ending up in a restricted area. I was feeling quite proud of myself. Then I stepped out onto the deck and stopped dead in my tracks, my chin literally dropped, and I simply stared. The deck was full of naked people! There were some swimsuits here and there, but mostly nude, in the pool, at the bar, lounging on chairs. Oh my Lord, what had they gotten me into? They had this whole thing planned. I slowly began backing up. I needed to escape this, get back to my cabin, and look at the reading material I had so uncharacteristically skipped. That would teach me! I continued backing up, not being able to take my eyes from the scene long enough to turn and flee safely. I made it into the shaded area before I backed into something. It felt like a brick wall. I cringed, knowing from the warmth emanating from it that it was no brick wall. I felt arms come around me, keeping me from falling, but also keeping me from bolting. I did the first thing that came to mind to get free. I stomped my foot down at exposed toes. Greg The steward took my bags and said, "Yes, sir, you're all set. Your pre-registration is complete; please remember the no-tipping policy. You can skip the line at check-in and go directly to your room or use any of the ship's facilities. Here is a brochure outlining the facilities and a map showing how to get to them and how to get to your cabin. Your cabin number is printed on the front of your key card. I apologize, but it may take as long as an hour for your luggage to get to your room. Please be careful going aboard. An amazing number of people manage to fall on a ship. Never do to hurt yourself on vacation." I went up into the immense contraption looming alongside with curiosity and a little trepidation. I thought, "I hope Mike has not given me a wrong steer. There are lots of women around all right, but most seem to have men attached to them already. Oh well. I can enjoy the scenery, the weather, which is a hell of lot better than New York's, work on my tan, and maybe flirt. Right. You don't know how to flirt. Hey there: the scenery is already improving. Nice ass on that woman ahead. No man with her either. Can hardly introduce myself by saying "Hi, I'm Greg. Do you know you have an amazing ass. What's your name and cabin number?" How does Mike always find a line to break the ice? Of course, Mike's girls never have too much between the ears so maybe he does just say "Nice ass. Cabin number?" What in the world is that woman doing anyway: counting the panels in the ceiling? Watch your step, sweetheart, before you fall flat on that gorgeous -- Sweet God, there she goes." I managed to catch her before she thudded into the floor or a stanchion. "You okay," I asked. "Um," she answered. "Sure. Ah, I gotta go check in. Um, thanks for catching me." I thought, "Nice looking woman." What I said was, "My pleasure. I think check-in is that way," but I was searching for what to say to get her name and room number. My inner Mike teasingly blurted out, "You may want to sit down next time you want to check out the ceilings here. That way you won't fall down." "Well ha friggin' ha," she snapped and stomped off to check in. Rebuffed, I wandered off to the bar, ordered a beer, reviewed the pamphlet explaining the layout of the gigantic ship, and pondered the ways of womankind. "Whenever you get one into bed, she's raring to go, but first you have to play her game, and no woman will tell you the damn rules to her game. That is, if there are any rules. Maybe there are rules, but, if so, the only one I have ever been able to discover is that the rules automatically change if a man begins to understand the current set. Maybe that was what happened with Janice -- No, the divorce is over and done with. You're on holiday. Forget her. She turned out in the end to be almost as mean as that one you just stopped from breaking her neck. Never did get her name. She was attractive, interesting face, not pretty exactly, but interesting. Forget her too: obviously mean as a rattlesnake with a headache. I made a harmless joke and got an earful in return. Somewhere on this floating city there must be a woman who has a sense of humor, is reasonably pleasing to the eye, and unattached." I nursed my Pilsner Urquel and tracked unproductive thought after unproductive thought while waiting for my luggage to reach my room and the inflowing horde of passengers to unclog the passageways. Quite a few men came in for a let's-start-the-cruise-right drink as did some couples, but no women on their own. As the bar got more crowded and noisier, the more the quiet of my cabin appealed. When I got there, my luggage had already arrived. "Service prompt and as described," I thought. "Nice digs, giant bed with room enough for three. Dream on, you idiot. Great view, or it will be once we are out to sea. Balcony. Time to start my holiday for real. First rule is: avoid ALL crazy women. OK then, what's the plan? I'll unpack, work out and shower, and then spend some time lolling by the pool. Don't want to get to the pool while the sun can still cook me, but need to get there in time to do some girl watching." The gym on my level was well equipped and empty. I ran on the elliptical machine for thirty minutes while carefully avoiding even a glimpse at the financial channel playing on the flat screen. I was on vacation, and Wall Street could just do without me for a week. After the run, I did my full routine of free weights and stretches. Just because you are in your forties does not mean that you must turn into mush, but my age made me welcome the shower pounding warmth into my exercised body. I am not a prude. The brochure clearly says that pool areas are "clothing optional," but, dare I admit it, I was quite shy about just stripping off my bath robe and showing myself naked in front of who knew how many female strangers. Some Master of the Universe I am! I put on flip-flops, swim trunks, and a bathrobe and headed for the pool area. I was impressed by the skill with which the crew catered to the passengers. As I approached the pool area, two waiters appeared, each carrying a tray loaded with an absurdly large number of drinks. I stopped to let them hasten ahead of me, but they told me to go ahead, and so I did. A woman was walking backward into the passage way. I stopped, but she continued backing toward me. Actually, she was veering slightly, sometimes aiming at me and sometimes at the heavily laden waiters; she never once looked where she was going. She was an accident waiting to happen, and then she suddenly skittered back right into me, and I grabbed her to prevent a potentially dangerous tangle of broken glass, wet decks, and falling bodies with cuts and bruises on everyone. In thanks, she tried to stomp every bone in my foot to dust. Fortunately, I was quick enough on my feet (literally) to avoid spending the rest of the cruise in the hospital, but I of course had to let her go. She promptly fell down and lay there on the deck, holding her foot in pain. I said, "Next time someone prevents you from crashing into something, maybe a thank you instead of attempted mayhem would be more appropriate. Oh my God, it's you again. Ms. Humorless Klutz. I'll let you get yourself up. Trying to help you is outright dangerous. Boys, you can work your way around her now. I suspect she's harmless while she's on the deck and has a foot in her hands. I think she's indestructible, but maybe one of you should call the ship's doctor just in case she really hurt herself, but the other should definitely call the ship's psychiatrist. It's not her foot that makes her a walking menace." After the waiters carefully placed their trays on the deck and hurried over to her, I resumed heading toward the pool area with as dignified an air as I could muster. "Completely bat shit crazy, walking backward toward a pile of glassware," I thought. Mandy "Damn, damn, damn," I cursed mentally. "'Call the doctor,' indeed" my mind mumbled sarcastically, "Who is he to throw orders around anyway?" Problem was that it was a good thing his orders had been followed. The staff had taken me to the infirmary, where the doctor had cared for me quite professionally and reassured me that my foot was not broken and my ankle not sprained. But he warned me that even a mild strain and bruising might be painful for several days. He recommended that I take it easy for a day or two. "Humph! What a first day!" I muttered internally while eating dinner alone in my cabin, my ace-wrapped foot propped on the other chair, with borrowed crutches leaning near the door in case I should need them, and pain pills on the bathroom counter. The only positive was I had now reviewed all the brochures I'd been left. "A nude cruise?" I questioned mentally. "Or, more precisely, a clothing-optional cruise? I knew my friends wanted me to come out of my shell but, really, out of even my underwear?" It was late and my foot hurt, but I needed to do one more thing before I popped a pill and slept. The suitcases. I needed to see what had been packed for me. I hopped to the closet and laid those beautiful pieces of expensive luggage right on the floor and plopped down in front of them. Unzipping them revealed sheer see-through fabrics in a multitude of colors from white to jewel tones. Cover-ups that wouldn't cover anything, lingerie that was barely there, evening dresses that reminded me more of negligees, and shoes that ranged from jeweled flip flops to high-heeled shoes I would now not be able to wear to an insanely expensive pair of custom sneakers in neon yellow. At first I wanted to just cry, it was too much, over the top, so not me. I got up and hopped to the bathroom to get the pills. My foot hurt, and so did my head. I needed to sleep. I looked at myself in the mirror. The M's kept telling me I wasn't who I used to be. I had grown strong over time. Maybe I had. Or maybe, for this week, I could pretend I had. After all, no one here knew me, and I had only kind of met one person, and he was a jackass who could be ignored. I hopped to the bed with the jackass on my mind. He was cute. I had to admit it. He appeared about my age. He must work out because his body was fine. The arms that had caught me were strong and solid. His hair was black with just a touch of silver and very full and thick. Nice hair to run hands through and rumple from its carefully combed executive style. The eyes were the kind a woman could easily get lost in, a vivid green with golden flecks. His attitude, however, spoiled the picture. He was condescending, holier than thou, stuck up. He had a comment for everything and expected his orders to be followed. Who did he think he was? Besides that, he dropped me on the deck and walked away! Well, after he had prevented me from crashing into a load of glassware, I reminded myself as I drifted off to sleep. I wondered if he had had an interesting evening. Day 2. At Sea I had forgotten to pull the curtains, and the early morning sun, blazing into my sleepy, blinking eyes, woke me early. I stretched like a cat, until I felt the pain in my foot and remembered yesterday. Nevertheless, I was determined to make the best of my remaining six days and arose with the dawn. I finished quickly in the bathroom and grabbed a bathing suit and a cover-up from the suitcases. I didn't even care which ones. It was like playing Russian roulette in those bags anyway. After rewrapping my foot, I slipped into the sneakers and grabbed a sun hat and threw other poolside necessities into a bag. One good thing about heading to the pool at this hour was that it would not be a mass of naked bodies. I wouldn't be able to work out today because of my foot but maybe some swimming? Couldn't afford to get lazy. When I entered the pool area, I knew this was the right start for me. There were few people here yet, and most of them wore something, not much, but something. I set my things down at a table in the shade and grabbed some fruit from a small breakfast bar. Sitting down I propped up my foot, pulled out my trashy novel and proceeded to read while nibbling my breakfast. When I finally looked up, I realized it was getting quite busy around the pool. I decided to search out the lap pools the brochure listed. I gathered my things and strolled across the pool deck toward the now crowded breakfast bar. I was very careful because of both my sore foot and the many tripping hazards present. On my way past the bar, I noticed that He was sitting there, nursing what looked like orange juice. His hair was somewhat rumpled, and he was very naked. A beautiful, equally naked, young woman with long, flowing, perfect, blonde hair sat at his side, laughing loudly, her hand resting upon his arm. Not wanting to be caught looking and hoping not to be noticed, I hurried by. Hurrying was a mistake. I caught my unhurt foot on the leg of a chaise longue and stumbled, ending up on hands and knees and knowing I had done some damage. I got up and exited through the first door I could get to, with tears of pain and embarrassment streaming down my cheeks. The Not-So-Innocent Voyage Ch. 01 I hustled as quickly as I could manage down a companionway and through another door. Around a corner I found a quiet alcove and slipped inside, hoping not to be found. Greg About 6:30, I had had enough of the pool although the girl watching was certainly interesting. I decided to go to the gourmet restaurant on the top deck and noticed that clothing was required there. "Of course," I thought, "women like to dress up for a nice dinner." It has been my experience that when women are dressed up, they like men to be dressed up too. So, I went to my cabin, combed my hair, and put on grey slacks, a white shirt, a linen jacket, and loafers. I doubted that being dressed up on a clothing-optional cruise meant white tie, which was good because I was not equipped even for black-tie. I showed up at the restaurant a bit after 7 and, of course, was told that there would be a considerable wait. Always go to a good restaurant before 6 or after 8: the waiters and chefs are much more relaxed. Still, there was a bar to wait in, and I did. It too was jammed. I found the last open table, a tiny one in a corner, which actually was great for people watching generally and girl watching specifically. Straight ahead of me was the main area of the bar, and the women there were dressed to attract. Turning to the left, I looked through a glass wall at the dining room at women who meant to please the eye. And turning to the right, I looked on to a promenade deck where there were more women to ogle. Of course, most of the women had a man attached. I was nearing the end of my first glass of wine when a woman walked in and looked around bewildered. No man apparently, and no place to sit certainly. To say that she was pretty is to underestimate the capacity of the English language. "OK," I thought, "seize fortune by the forelock and all," not that I was intending to grab the woman's hair, a gesture that seemed unlikely to end well. I called out, "I have an extra seat here if you would care to join me." She turned, looked at me, and walked over to the table before saying, "Well thank you for the invitation, but aren't you the man I watched drop a woman on the floor, or do I mean deck?" "You mean deck, but I'm not fussy. And yes, I did what you said, but I rescued the woman from walking into a bunch of glassware, and she rewarded me by doing her best to break my foot. I prevented her from falling earlier and got snubbed for my pains. She is a maiden in perpetual distress with a bad temper. Well, I don't know about the maiden part, but the rest of the description is accurate. She is a super klutz with a nasty disposition" She said, "Oh, I didn't see her trying to break your foot. Probably you startled her." "Yeah, probably I did. Still her reaction seems a bit extreme. You for instance, do you usually break bones when startled? I mean really, was someone about to rape her while a hundred people were near by?" "I can't remember breaking anyone's bones ever, but maybe the poor woman was overwhelmed by the sight of all those naked bodies." "I gotta admit it was kind of overwhelming. I was wearing a swim suit." "I noticed that," said the woman as she sat. "I was too. I guess we're both shy." "I'm not sure that 'shy' describes me, but it did occur to me that it's better to be overdressed than underdressed. I needn't have worried though." "No, both of us looked very formal in that crowd. Hi, I'm Sally, and I assure you I'm not at all shy." "And I'm Greg," I said while thinking "I think that not shy comment is a clue. Maybe Mike was right." One thing led to another, and Sally and I had dinner together. She was bright and funny. I enjoyed both my food and my company. As we were finishing our coffee, I asked whether she had a plan for the remainder of the evening. I did not tell her what my plan was. "Unfortunately I do," she said. She gestured at two women sitting at the bar. "I have promised to go to the casino with them. But I had fun tonight. Want to meet me at the breakfast bar by the pool tomorrow morning? I'll be naked if you are too." "That sounds like a wonderful plan. I'll meet you at your cabin. What number is it? And what time? "B332. Say about 8:30" she answered, and then she leaned toward me for a kiss. I was expecting a sort of introductory peck, but her tongue slithered right between my lips. Then, with a wave, the little tease was gone. Day 2. At Sea I woke early, worked out, showered and shaved before heading in my bathrobe and flip-flops toward B332. When Sally answered the door, she was in a bathrobe and bare feet. "Good morning. Come on in because I am not quite ready, but here is a cup of coffee," she said. After a few moments, she said, "Show me what is under that bathrobe, and I'll show you what is under mine." I opened up the sash on my robe and let it fall open. "Well that," she giggled as she gestured at my rapidly stiffening prick, "is a compliment that is certainly sincere, the kind a girl likes to get in the morning, or the afternoon, or even at night." She slipped out of her robe and disappointed me because she was wearing a sort of long silk shirt, but she unbuttoned it and threw it onto the dresser before coming over to me, grabbing me by my hair, and pulling my lips to hers. I was ready this time to duel with her darting tongue and enjoyed the softness of her tiny breasts squeezed against my chest. She ground her belly against my hard-on. "OK," she said after breaking our clinch. "I need breakfast. Let me get my flip-flops, and we can go eat." I said, "Maybe we should take care of some pressing business first." "No, silly, I never fuck after just one date." "Was last night a date?" "It certainly was. Now let's go get some food." Even though she was a tease, I was having fun. I was fairly confident that my pressing business would be concluded before the morning was out: Sally had been truthful about not being shy. Arriving by the pool, we placed our bathrobes and flip-flops on adjoining chaises longues and then went to sit at the breakfast bar. As we finished I said, "I guess breakfast counts as a second date, doesn't it." Sally laughed and said, "I'll look in the rule book. Maybe we have to swim a little first in addition to breakfast, and of course, we can't swim right after we eat." But her hand rested on my arm, and her fingers made little stroking movements. I was hard as a rock. Just then, there was a crash. I turned and saw a woman scrambling to her feet and hobbling off. There was a smear of blood on the deck. "Wait here," I said to Sally, "I'll make sure that woman is OK." But Sally paid no attention to me and joined me in racing after the woman. We found her a few moments later, crying in an alcove. "Are you OK," I asked. "If you're badly hurt, we can __. Oh my, it's you again. Look, let's get you to the infirmary to make sure you just have a cut." The woman only cried harder. Sally said, "Go get our stuff, and I'll stay here with her." When I got back, Sally had her arm around the woman, who had stopped bawling. Sally said, "I don't think she's hurt. She's mostly super embarrassed. She says that this is the third time she has made an ass of herself and you have come to her rescue, that she really has not been thankful, and that she's mortified at her clumsiness and rudeness. So tell her you forgive her, you dolt, and help me get her to the infirmary. Oh, and her name is Mandy so if you call her a klutz, I'll cut your balls off, you hear me." The trip to the infirmary was uneventful. They fussed at Mandy a bit and then cleaned and bandaged an ugly gash on her knee. We walked Mandy back to her cabin, where she wanted to rest. I remarked that it was only three cabins away from mine. After the door closed behind Mandy, Sally said, "I guess that was a date. A lot briefer but perhaps more eventful than I had planned, but the way you took off to care for someone who might have been hurt shows that you are a nice guy. But still it's a bit disappointing. I was looking forward to hours more of teasing you. That's a lot of fun, but now I think we should just go to your cabin and relax." "Relax?" I questioned. "Sure," she said, "sex always relaxes me. Afterwards we can talk about how we are going to seduce Mandy." "Us, seduce Mandy?" I wondered aloud. "Of course," Sally said. "Did you notice that her tits are simply huge? I wanted to suck on them right there in the infirmary. Now open the door. There's something else that I may suck if you're nice." Mandy I couldn't help thinking that, for a blonde, Sally was sweet. She had been patient with my outburst and had gotten me to talk, a talk that had calmed me down considerably before he had returned. Why was it always him? And he was nude this time? I had been completely overwhelmed. I had briefly napped like a recalcitrant child when I had been returned to my room, but it had not been a restful sleep. My mind had flashed with images of Sally and Greg. I had known instantly that she was into him and vice versa. A sharp pang of jealousy shot through me, but I was not sure of whom I was jealous. I thought back to when my husband had discovered my closest guarded secret. Yes, I loved having sex with him and had never cheated on him with any man, but whenever one or more of the M's got together, we would fuck each other senseless. He had caught all four of us together one afternoon. His close mindedness was the end of our marriage. He had also told their husbands about it in the hope of making trouble for my friends. Too bad for him that their men were open minded and the thought turned them on, not turned them away. Putting aside my general prejudice against blondes, I admired Sally. She was young and cute with small pert breasts, just the right size to be cupped in my hand. I closed my eyes while I imagined caressing her gently until her nipple stood taut and erect. My mind drifted to Greg and my other hand reached for his shaft, sliding along it until it also stood erect. Both mine to control and enjoy. I was driving myself crazy lying there with thoughts of both of them racing through my mind. Although I had been with women and I had been with men, never had I been with both at the same time. My pussy was becoming wet and tingly just thinking on it. I was so turned on that my nerves were on fire. I needed sex. My one sexual hang up was that I would only fuck someone I knew. The closest here to not being a stranger was Greg, Sally coming in a close second. He had said three doors down, hadn't he? Left or right? It was a crapshoot, but nothing could be more embarrassing than my first day here. I got up from the bed and took a quick look in the mirror. A brush through my hair, a see through cover up to pretend to cover my nudity, a deep breath, and I was ready. I peeked in the hall and was relieved that it was empty of other passengers. Slipping quietly past two doors I stopped at the third. I sucked up my courage and prepared to knock. Noises from beyond the barrier halted my hand in mid air. "Come on, you little fuck bunny!" came Greg's voice. "Ride my cock." "Oh Lord, Greg," it was Sally. "I'm going to cum again! More, more! Harder!" And then she was moaning loudly. I backed quickly away from the door as the sounds of their fuck session continued. I needed to leave before I was caught outside his door by anyone, especially him, although I was probably pretty safe in that he was otherwise occupied. I bolted back to my room with the sound of Sally's voice pleading for another cum burning my ears. Closing my door behind me, I was imagining in overdrive. It was like watching my own personal porn film scroll through my mind. I could imagine Mandy on her knees with her ass in the air as Greg's prick plunged deep into her squelching cunt. I wanted to taste her juices on his cock. I wanted his prick inside me. I unconsciously reached down and began stroking my wet clit. My fingers slipped inside me as I pictured Greg's prick thrusting inside her cunt. Oh God. My fingers were not enough; I needed more. I grabbed my small bag I had brought before I remembered I had not brought any of my sex toys. Shit! The suitcases the M's had sent, I had never gotten to the bottom of them. They knew me well. They would have sent some essentials. I hauled the smaller case up to the stand at the foot of my bed and began rifling through it not caring at all about the disaster I was leaving in my wake. At the very bottom was a small unassuming brown case. I pulled the zipper back and opened it. Jackpot! It was filled with my favorite toys: a rabbit vibrator, an insertable egg, Ben Wa balls, a finger vibe, a double-headed vibrator and more. I grabbed the rabbit vibe ignoring the lube that was in the case and flopped down on the bed. I turned it on and slipped it right in as far as it would go. I was so wet that it slid right in. Closing my eyes I let my imagination take me where it wanted to go. I turned the vibe up to full strength and lifted my hips to take it as I thrust it hard into my pussy. Greg's face floated behind my closed lids. I was going to cum hard. I needed it. Three more thrusts as the pressure built. As the jolts zinged though my limbs, my pussy flooded with juices, and I screamed out my satisfaction without care for who might be outside MY door. As I came down from my orgasm slowly and removed the rabbit from my pussy, a single tear streamed down my cheek. Fucking myself was always good but left me ridiculously sad at times. I wanted a real cock, a real fuck. I looked at the vibe covered in my juiciness and swirled my tongue around it. Mmmmm, good, I wished the M's were around. Maybe Sally? She was young, though, so she might not be interested in someone turning 40 in two days. I got up from the bed feeling slightly sore from both my wounds and my "exercise" session and went to the bathroom to clean my toy. Leaving it on the counter to dry I took a quick shower while allowing my fingers to slip into and caress my still wet and sensitive pussy. After drying my hair and stowing my toy box so as not to embarrass the steward who would be in to turn down my bed, I dressed in one of the sexy dresses from the suitcase of sin. Feeling more confident than usual I left the room wearing a silky, royal blue maxi dress with a slit in the side up to my thigh. I usually did not wear this type of dress, as my breasts are really were too big for a small top designed to be worn without a bra. My jeweled flip-flops peeked out from the floor length skirt with each step, my wrapped ankle and taped up knee barely visible, I hoped. I headed quickly past the third door down. It was quiet. I wondered if they were still in there and if so, still at it. Blushing, I hurried down the corridor to the atrium and took the elevator to the very top of the ship. I had seen on a map that there was a bar there called the "Crow's Nest," and I wanted a drink before dinner. I stepped off the elevator into a beautiful, cozy bar, all warm woods and colors. I found my way to a secluded area near a forward facing window and curled up on a comfortable orange couch. I ordered my favorite, peach Circoc vodka with orange juice, from the waiter and turned my attention to the sunset. As the sky was painted by the hand of God, I sat quietly sipping my drink. "Couple of these and I'll be plastered," I thought. It was quite strong and very yummy. I smirked just a little in remembering that I had not eaten much today. Who goes on a cruise and forgets to eat? Aren't cruises nothing BUT eating? Then I heard it, a giggle and a deep voice from the direction of the elevator. "Shit, it's them. Well," I thought, "at least I'm not on the floor, in pain, or bleeding this time." Greg Sex never goes as planned. We never had time for a blowjob that morning. I of course was fully erect by the time we got the door closed, and Sally strode toward the bed, shucking her robe and flip flops as she went to the bed, pulled back the spread, lay on her back, and spread her legs akimbo. "Like what you see," she asked. "You bet," I answered. She was sex personified, with erect, long nipples and a tangle of blonde hairs through which her the lips of her vulva peeked shyly. I climbed on to the bed to suck on one of those tempting nipples, and she immediately grabbed my cock while saying "I've been wanting this since rolling it against my belly earlier this morning." I love a woman to talk dirty. "So where do you want it, Sally," I questioned. "I'll show you," she said as her hands pulled her gash wide open to my gaze. I stared at her: each woman's pussy is so individual. Her pinkness was already glisteningly wet, and her open hole winked invitingly. I could smell her arousal. "That smells sexy and looks very pretty," I said, "but I told you to tell me where you wanted me." "I want your stiff cock up my wet cunt, lover. I want to feel you spurt your cum all over my insides. I want to feel it leaking down over my asshole. Now shut up and fuck me: I'm ready." I hooked my arms behind her knees and pulled her hips up off the bed and laid my prick in her slit and rubbed back and forth. My whole length, from tip to root, was sliding up over her clit. And when the tip was fully entangled in her tickling hairs, I'd pull back until I could just feel her fuck hole. Then I'd repeat, masturbating her clit with my cock. Over and over again, up and down her slit while I looked down at her contorting face and jiggling tits. There is nothing more exciting than pleasuring a woman, seeing her swim in her lust and reach for her peak. God, I do love women. My sawing on her clit got her off fast, and when she was in the midst of her cum, I popped my prick into her cunt. The look on her face as I pushed slowly into her depths was purely animal. I stroked slowly in and out, watching my rod slide in and out, pulling her cunt with it. But I could not maintain that slow pace: I was too excited, and she felt too delightful. I fell forward on to her and began moving more quickly. And when I came, she came again beneath me. She made cute little grunting sounds when she came. I kissed her and rolled to her side, with one hand resting on her small breast. "That was wonderful, my sexy Sally," I said. "Yes, it was very good. I knew you would be good. I can always tell. Now hush, I just want to float." We floated silently, with my chest and belly against her side. Actually I think we both dozed off. An hour, I suppose, but who was clocking time? I felt her roll over so that we were spooning, and I said, "Hi, there. Fancy finding you in my bed." "It's a nice bed, and I like beds," she responded. "I think you like what you do in beds." "Well that's true." "Now, about Mandy, just how extensive are your bed time activities." "Oh, I'm an equal opportunity slut. I play with younger men, older men, younger women, older women. And if I can't find any of those that appeal, well I have some toys." "That's interesting. In fact, it's extremely interesting. So you do not limit your activities to one thing at a time." "Absolutely not. Sometimes I have used two or three toys in a single session." "Yes, I bet you have. But that's not what I was asking about. Are you really thinking about a three way with me and Mandy?" "Absolutely, if you're into that, and of course if Mandy's into that." "I hate to sound inexperienced, but that is something that I've never done. I have fantasized about it, and I'd love to try it, but why do you think that Mandy might be into it." "Oh, I have NO clue whether she is or not. But she is certainly attracted to you. She snapped at you because she was embarrassed, which is also why she was bawling like a baby. And why was she so embarrassed? No woman wants to look like a clumsy ass in front of someone she wants to impress and attract. Furthermore, if she had been here with a man, she would have asked us to get him. So she's here by herself: no one to play with. And did you see those "fuck-me" clothes in her cabin. Believe me: she's here to play. You turn on the charm, and she'll be flat on her back, arms and legs wide open, in no time. You do have some charm, you know. Once she's solidly hooked, you tell her your fantasy and see what happens. If she doesn't bite, at least you'll have two sexy women to fuck separately for a week, and I'll keep working on my two friends from last night. The Not-So-Innocent Voyage Ch. 01 "They're afraid to get naked, and they both are a bit, what shall I say, a bit stout. They're quite overtly looking for men, but running in a pair like that scares men off. Furthermore, they're looking for romance. Single men do not go on a clothing optional cruise for romance so those two girls aren't going to catch anyone this early in the week. So I have a window of at least two or three days to get one or both of them playing with me. And I've already got a nice man to play with. Speaking of playing, is that a prick poking at my ass? Does the thought of my going down on Mandy with my ass in the air and my cunt just waiting to be entered excite you"? Such an image certainly did excite me, and it was not long before Sally was above me, her cute tits being teased by my fingers, her hips grinding in circles, and her cunt impaled by my prick. It was my second fuck of the day, and I could not move much as she squirmed on top of me so I lasted a long time. Our mingled juices dripped onto my balls, and the liquid sounds of fucking were distinctly audible. She came two or three times, grunting and moaning as she did. Finally, I pulled her down so that she was lying flat on my chest and I could stroke back at her. I was close, very close. "Come on, you little fuck bunny!" I said. "Ride my cock." "Oh Lord, Greg," said Sally. "I'm going to cum again! More, more! Harder!" And then she was moaning loudly as I exploded within her. After we cuddled a bit and showered, we separated for the afternoon. She wanted to ride on the zip line, but I had had enough strenuous activity for the day and headed to the pool with my Kindle. We agreed, however, to coordinate around 6. When Sally and I talked on the phone, I found out that all she had time for was a drink or two before dinner. She had a dinner date. "Your two chubby girls," I asked. "No," she answered, "I ran into three college boys on the zip line, and we are meeting for dinner. So meet me at 7, and we can have at least one drink in the Crow's Nest with adults before I descend into the world of burgers and beer and boys." "You're impossible," I said. "I'll be at your door around 7." Sally was dressed in a very short skirt and a halter top. I regretted that she was off on a date. She looked delectable. We were alone in the elevator, and I said, "I think one of your dates is going to have a very enjoyable evening. I'm jealous." As the elevator door opened, Sally giggled and said, "Maybe all three of them will have an enjoyable evening. I'll let you know in the morning at the breakfast bar." "As I said before, you're impossible, but impossible to resist as well. Oh, look, there's Mandy, all dressed up. You were right about the clothes," I said, and we approached Mandy's table. I greeted her with, "Hi Mandy. It's good to see you seated comfortably and, I hope you don't mind my teasing, safely." "Hi Greg. Hi Sally. I don't mind the teasing; I just didn't get it before because, well because. Will you both please sit and have a drink on me as thanks for coming to my rescue. You've both been so nice." Sally said, "We'd love to have a drink with you. I never pass up a free one. So how are you doing?" The three of us had a drink and talked. Mandy was fun to talk with, gay and observant and amusing. After a while, Mandy asked us to stay for a second drink, but Sally excused herself saying that she had a date and had to go. I thought I detected a brief look of puzzlement on Mandy's face, but she said, "Oh, well have fun, and Greg, maybe you'll keep me company for another drink." I agreed and persuaded Mandy to join me for dinner toward the end of that second drink. When we were ordering dinner, I asked Mandy whether she wanted to choose a wine from the wine list, but she begged off on the excuse that she knew very little about wine. "The first rule to learn about wine is that any one you like is a good wine," I said and ordered a bottle of Wehlener Sonnenuhr, a very nice wine and a good one for a beginner. We had a delicious dinner, and Mandy seemed to like the wine because it did not take the two of us long to finish the bottle. We went and sat on the promenade deck and watched the dark sea glide majestic and uncaring before our eyes. We talked some more; she told me that she was recently divorced and that her friends had arranged this trip for her, and I told her that too was recently divorced. "So you and Sally are not a couple," Mandy asked. "No, she's just a brand new friend. I only met her yesterday," I answered. "She certainly is friendly," said Mandy, but there was something a bit odd about her tone. "Don't you like her"? "So far, I like her a whole bunch. She calmed me down a lot this morning, and that was quite kind. No, I just found it odd that she came to the bar to have drinks with you and then left you for a date." "I told you that she and I are just friends, recent acquaintances really. She told me that she wanted a little adult company before going off on her date. It's with three college boys." "NO SHIT," exclaimed Mandy. "I guess she is really, really friendly all right. Three guys! That's not fair to the rest of us girls. She now has four guys following her around." "I'm not following her, Mandy. I'm right here with you. I'm yours for the rest of the evening if you want." "Actually, Greg, that's very sweet of you, but the drinks and the wine have made me a little woozy, and I really need to stay off my feet for a day or two so may I please have a rain check." "Of course you can have a rain check, and I'll walk you back to your cabin so you don't fall in a drunken stupor and break your leg." "Meanie," said Mandy, and we chatted and chaffed each other as I walked her to her cabin. At the door, as she looked in her clutch for her keycard, I leaned forward and said, "You haven't got your rain check yet." She looked confused for a moment, smiled, and tilted her head sideways and toward me for a kiss. It was a great kiss. Her lips were soft. Her hair smelled of flowers. Her lips parted to welcome my tongue. Her large breasts were cushioned gently on my chest. And all the time, her eyes stayed open, looking deep into mine. It was her move. If she invited me into her cabin, we both knew she was inviting me in to fuck her. Her move. Mandy It had been a wonderful evening. It was a surprise, considering our initial encounters, how well Greg and I got along. From our discussion over dinner and after, I knew he had some skeletons in his closet as I did, my dislike of blondes being one of them. Thinking of blondes led my still slightly tipsy brain to think of Sally and wonder what she was up to right then. "Three college guys? Wow." Thoughts of her screwing guys led me back to thinking of the man at my side. I had wanted him earlier. I knew he had had Sally and had enjoyed her a lot. And she was young , sexy, and hot, three things I did not consider myself to be. He hadn't actually made any obvious overtures toward me, except maybe the comment about being mine for the evening. I am not good at making the first move, never have been, but I did want him. I glanced over at Greg as he made a quip about how many times they fed us per day. I wanted to sleep with him but didn't want him to think I was easy, a slut. Would he? I really didn't want him to think of me in the same vein as Sally, willing to screw anyone with a cock, just a "fuck bunny" as Greg had called her. I didn't want to be wanted just for sex; there is a lot more to me than my wet pussy. We had just met yesterday, and yet here I was contemplating spending the night with him. What did that make me? This was all going quite fast for me, and yet.... It had been so long since I'd been with a man, and this one was quite delectable, a catch who had caught me, literally. Chuckling to myself silently, I shook my head. I really didn't know what I would do if it came to it. Even as we strolled down the passageway past his cabin toward mine, I still didn't know. Then we were standing outside my cabin. As I fumbled for my key card, I was hoping the whole time that Greg would kiss me. I love to kiss. It turns me on like nothing else. Card in hand, I looked into his eyes as he made a crack about me getting my rain check. I parted my lips slightly, invitingly, and he claimed them. His tongue swept in to command mine. My arms came around his neck, his around my waist. My breasts were nestled against his linen covered chest. I was sure he could feel, right through our clothes, my nipples pressing against his firm chest. They were taut, and so hard they almost hurt, a pleasurable pain. It really was the perfect first kiss, undemanding yet holding the promise of more. It ended much too quickly for me. I found myself staring up into his eyes. I knew the ball was in my court, if I invited him in, would he be satisfied if we just made out, cuddled and talked more; if we got to know each other better? Or would we make love? If I sent him away, would that be a kiss good night or our kiss good-bye. What was my rain check good for? "Greg," I said. "Um, ..." To Be Continued...