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Maiden Voyage: Part 2
A choice, a trap, and a necklace.
By HectorBidon. Listen to the
Podcast at Steamy
Stories.
The next morning's sun found its way in through our porthole
once again. We had sorted ourselves out somewhat during the night. I was on my
side, tangled in a bit of sheet. She was on her side, tangled in a bit of
blanket. I could just make out the pale tan lines on her bottom and her back.
We'd become cabin buddies of a different order. At the
Jack-and-Ciara level. That's probably what most people would have assumed all
along, but I certainly hadn't, and I didn't think that she had either.
And yet, here we were.
I waited a while for her to wake up, but she didn't. So I
finally got up myself.
We'd just passed through the entrance in the seawall at
Ensenada and were coming up to our docking site. The pilot, or maybe it was the
captain himself, was standing on a little deck that jutted out from the side of
the ship to joy-stick our massive vessel precisely up to the pier.
Molly was still in bed when I got back. She smiled and went
to the bathroom, a little embarrassed to be still naked while I was already
dressed. Her pubic hair, I noticed, was trim and attractive.
She came out wearing a towel and had her coffee. We checked
the day's schedule. She was delighted to discover that they'd transferred Mrs.
Pendergast's excursion ticket to me.
A little later that morning we went ashore. It was a strange
sensation, stepping off the gangway into a foreign country. Somehow I expected
every little thing to be different and exotic, but the first thing we
encountered, sprouting up through a crack in the pavement, was a little tuft of
grass. Nothing exotic at all, just plain old grass.
Our excursion van was heralded by a woman with a clipboard,
a younger, more boisterous, Mexican Denise. There were three other couples in
our group and a single unaccompanied woman about Ciara's age. I took a seat
next to the window with Molly beside me with the unaccompanied woman next to
her. Her name was Meryl. This was her first real vacation since her divorce.
She was really excited to be having such an adventure.
We drove through the streets of Ensenada, our guide giving us
a bit of local color in her prettily accented English. The scene was at once
familiar and strange: traffic and lane markings and stop lights just exactly
like at home, but unintelligible store signs in unlikely colors painted
directly on pastel stucco walls. Beyond the city were dusty, cactus-strewn
hills not unlike the Catalina hinterland.
Our destination was a site called the Bufadora, a cleft in
the rocky sea cliff where ocean waves sent up enormous geyser-like sprays. The
sprays were so high that we got wet even at our vantage point fifty feet above
the water.
The path back from the observation point was lined with
gaudy souvenir shops, like the midway of a county fair. Meryl had tagged along
with Molly and me. We stopped at one of the taco stands for lunch.
"So how did you guys meet?"
Molly didn't volunteer an answer.
"Just here on the cruise, actually," I said.
"Really? See, aren't cruises great?" Molly gushed.
After lunch we went into one of the souvenir shops and Meryl
asked our opinion about all the little nick-nacks she wanted to buy. When we
got back to the van, I ended up sitting in the middle.
"The nicest thing." she said. "is that every
day you make new friends."
We drove back through town, then out into the desert in a
different direction to a picturesque winery. We sat around a table on a
palm-shaded patio and sampled the different vintages. Meryl chatted on about
Simi Valley and the cruise and her ex and the weather and the ship and the
people she'd met. She got me to go into the little gift shop with her to help
pick out a couple bottles.
Molly was quiet at dinner. I had to remind her that we'd
made plans to see the comedy show with Meryl.
"I've got a bit of a headache," she said. "I
think I'll go back to the room."
Meryl was waiting in the forward theatre. She was sorry to
hear about Molly's headache and put her hand on my arm to convey her concern.
The show turned out to be pretty adult-rated, pretty raunchy in fact. Meryl
yucked it up
After the show she suggested we take a spin about the deck.
The ship had set sail again and we were just passing the exposed wreck that
lies up against the sea wall. Somehow Meryl managed to tuck herself inside my
arm.
"Wouldn't you just love to go dancing?" she cooed.
"I, uh, Actually, I've kind of got to go
now."
"But the night is still young.” Meryl rebutted. “Let's
at least stop by my room first."
"I've got to check on Molly." I insisted
"We can open one of the tequilas."
"Thanks, but,”
"It's just that, I was kind of hoping to get lucky
tonight."
Christ Almighty. A guy tries to be a gentleman. I didn't
need an etiquette book for this one. I finally managed to pry myself away,
When I got back to the room, Molly was in her pajamas,
watching TV.
"Is your headache any better?" I asked.
She didn't look up from the screen.
I sat on the chair and twisted around to see what she was
watching. A travelogue of some sort.
"You didn't miss much," I said. "The show was
kind of,"
But she leaned in closer to the screen to make it clear that
I was interrupting her program. Something about the way the locals made their
tortillas.
OK. I got the message. She didn't like the fact that I'd
gone to the show with Meryl. I went into the bathroom to pee. I'd only been
trying to be polite to a fellow cruise member. Was that a crime? Molly had been
there when we'd made the plans. I thought that she'd been trying to be friendly
too. That we'd sort of taken Meryl under our wing.
I came out of the bathroom a minute later, and sat down on the
chair again. The secret to the tortillas, apparently, had something to do with
lime juice.
"I didn't expect to see you back here tonight,"
Molly said. In a sarcastic tone of voice. As if my presence was an imposition.
As if she was sorry she'd ever offered to share the room in the first place.
I didn't even bother to answer. I got undressed, then
crawled up onto my side of the bed. Where else was I supposed to go? I got
under the blanket and turned toward the bulkhead. A guy tries to be a
gentleman. And this is what he gets.
I woke up first again, the next morning. I went up on deck.
Did she really think that I'd found Meryl even the least bit attractive? She
was a fellow shipmate, nothing more. I'd thought that we'd both been trying to
be polite to her. Was that a crime?
I brought back coffee and a croissant, but Molly was still
asleep. Or pretending to be. I banged around a little, but she didn't budge.
Finally I got fed up and left.
So here I was again, back to my usual routine, wandering
down empty corridors, drifting up little-used gangways, poking around lonely
corners where nobody else much ever cared to go. Doing what I probably would
have been doing if I'd gotten my single in the first place.
I came back to the room around lunch time, but Molly wasn't
there. I wandered up to the pool. Denise was there, chatting with some people.
She waved. Meryl was there, stalking about, but I managed to slip away before
she saw me. But no Molly.
It was a long day. The ship had parked itself out in the
middle of the ocean somewhere. Or maybe the rest of the world really had blown
itself up and they just hadn't told us. I eventually ended up back in the
little coffee shop at the tail end of the ship. The sky seemed a lot flatter
though, the seagulls a lot more listless, my algorithms a lot less interesting.
Finally I got up again and trudged back down into the labyrinth.
The casino was practically empty. The lower piano bar was
closed. The little art gallery was still showing the same old photographs.
The gift shop was open. The same lady was behind the
counter. What was it that Molly had asked to see? A necklace. It must have
been, that one. The lady brought it out. A pair of crystalline dolphins on a
slender silver chain. They sparkled in the light.
Molly still wasn't in the room when I got back. This time
our towel had been folded into a seal, sunning itself on the bedspread. I moved
it a little closer to her pillow and arranged the necklace around its neck.
There were still a couple hours until dinner. I thought it
might be better if I wasn't there when she got back.
I got to dinner right on time. It was our last night on
board, and the dining room was even more boisterous than usual.
"Where's Molly?" asked Ciara.
"She had a little headache. She might not be joining
us."
Valentin our waiter was really joshing it up, angling for a
big end-of-trip tip. He was just taking the drink orders when Molly appeared.
She was wearing a pink skirt, a whitish blouse,, and the necklace. Her
eye caught mine as she made her way around the table, but quickly shot away
again.
Ciara asked her how she was doing. The couple on my other
side were there for once. Tom and somebody. He was in air conditioning and gave
me the full rundown. It was too noisy for Molly and me to talk, but every time
I looked, she was still wearing the necklace.
It being our last night, the waiters were going to put on a
little show. Just after they passed out the dessert plates they went into a
huddle near the service entrance. Molly leaned over.
"Do you want to go back to the room?"
We got up.
"Oh, are you guys going to the revue?" asked
Ciara.
Molly replied in the louder voice you had to use to make
yourself heard. But the room was beginning to quiet down in a hush, as the
waiters were taking their places, and so the whole table heard what she said.
"Make-up sex."
The table burst into laughter. Molly continued her way out
of the room, and I just followed sheepishly behind her.
"Can you forgive me?" she asked as we got out into
the hallway.
"For letting everybody know where we're going?"
"For last night. I'm so sorry for the way I acted. It
was my fault. It was all my fault."
"The worst part is, we wasted a whole day," I
remorsed.
"We still have tonight." She tried to assure me.
"Yeah. We still have tonight." I agreed.
As soon as we got into the room we fell into each other's
arms.
"I love the necklace," she murmured.
"It looks really nice on you."
We kissed and shuffled toward the bed.
But my blood was pumping. I was thinking about our wasted
day.
"Let's do something first, want to?” I pleaded. “It's
our last night. Let's get our money's worth. Let's go to the show! Let's go
dancing! Let's shoot for that royal flush! The bed will still be here when we
get back. But let's make up for some of the things we didn't do today. Let's
paint the ship red. Okay? Want to? C'mon! Hup hup!"
Jack and Ciara were surprised to see us at the theatre.
"That was quick," Ciara said with a look of
astonishment.
Molly blushed. I put my arm around her and pulled her tight.
"You ain't seen nothing yet."
The review was Motown classics, the Supremes, the Four Tops.
"You can't hurry love, no you'll just have to wait,” The whole auditorium
was singing along. The girls pulled Jack and me up from our seats to dance in
the aisle. "Sugar pie, honeybunch, you know that I love you,”
Afterwards, the night was balmy, perfect for a stroll on
deck. We could see lights off in the distance, the rest of the world was still
there after all! We ran into Meryl, wrapped in the arm of a dapper, middle-aged
gentleman whose smile was just as smug as hers was. We exchanged pleasantries.
She gave us both a little wink.
“Molly, perhaps I’m clueless. Did you have any idea that
Meryl was going to try to hit on me?” I had to ask.
“Oh, my God!” Molly stared at me. “All day long, she was
angling for you. I thought you were trying for a threesome, and my fake
headache was me forcing you to choose one or the other.”
“What? I thought you and I were just trying to be
hospitable; you know, so she’d have some friends to socialize with.”
“Well,” Molly confessed. “I finally figured out that you
were completely innocent, but it took me until late afternoon to dispel my
worst presumptions.”
“I went to the show, because we told her we’d both join her,
there.” I explained. “ When you were bedridden with a headache, I assumed it
fell on me to go alone, even though I really didn’t want to be away from you.“
“Ah, really? That’s so sweet!” Molly gushed. She gave me a
deep kiss right there on the mezzanine. “I assumed you went because you wanted
another notch on your belt. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Well, when the performance ended, I said I had to head back
to you. She did try every diversion. I passed on all of them. Then she flatly
told me she was ‘hoping to get lucky’ with me. I told her I definitely could
not accommodate that, and I walked straight back to our room.”
“Oh, I was awful to you!” Molly lamented. “But I was also
right about that slut’s intentions, wasn’t I?” Molly paused, then added; “When
I finally got over my inner rage, I realized that you didn’t come back smelling
like cunt. Hell, you didn’t even have lipstick smeared on your face.”
This afternoon, I finally left my hiding spot, and saw you were heading
to dinner, I went to the cabin and saw this beautiful necklace. I
literally cried. I don’t deserve you. You don’t deserve my juvenile drama. I’d
planned to skip the dinner, but when I saw the dolphin necklace, I had to come
and grovel your forgiveness.”
“You know, Molly” I paused. “Perhaps I was too clueless,
yesterday. Perhaps you were too presuming?” Do you think we can both help to
balance each other?”
“Oh, I love that! Yes, let’s balance each other. “
The nightclubs were hopping. We wound our way from one to
the other, dancing one dance in each. But then we decided to forgo the casino
and just head back to the cabin. And sure enough, the bed was still there,
right where we'd left it.
We kissed. I ran my hands up along her sides, up inside her
blouse. She undid my buttons and pulled open my shirt. I fiddled with her skirt
and managed to slip it down over the swell of her hips. She unfastened my belt
buckle and my button and my zipper. I slid my hands down inside her panties.
She slid hers down inside my underpants. We pawed and shucked and kicked off
everything that remained. And then she took off the very last thing that she
was wearing, the crystalline necklace, and placed it carefully on the
nightstand.
I backed her down onto the bed. I kissed the pretty spot
where the necklace had been, and the spot next to that, and the spot next to
that. She lay back and closed her eyes and let herself be kissed.
I settled myself down on top of her, stroking her full
lovely body with my own, savoring her softness and her excitement, trying to
fuse our unfortunate separateness into something more fulfilling. And somehow,
in the midst of our kissing and our stroking, my penis must have slid up at
just the right angle, and her hips must have been open to just the right
degree, and we coupled, as adroitly as if that had been our conscious intention,
as naturally as if we were two jungle cats whose lithe jungle bodies just
instinctively knew how to fuck.
And somewhere in the midst of our coupling we sweetly came,
but it was not so much a climax as just a sweet vista point along the way. For
just as we hadn't consciously willed our engagement, neither did we ever
willfully disengage, but just eventually nestled more comfortably down beside
each other, still caressing, still softly kissing, still sweetly fused.
The loudspeaker blasted us awake early the next morning. Our
luggage needed to be out in the hallway for pickup by eight o'clock sharp!
Molly wriggled a bit deeper under the blanket.
"Uh," she groaned. "Just five more minutes."
I remembered the look on her face, when had it been? just four
days ago, when we first learned we might have to share the cabin together.
She'd been just as uncertain as I had. But now it was hard to imagine any other
arrangement. Her lying in bed beside me, trying to squeeze in a few more
minutes of sleep, leaving it up to me to keep track of the time, I wouldn't
have had it any other way.
We hadn't begun to pack yet, but we'd kept things fairly
organized. I gave her a generous five minutes, and then I gave her a little
nudge. "C'mon, sleepyhead. Up and at um."
She groaned, but she dragged herself out of bed. We were
both still naked. I slipped on a pair of boxers, and she put on a T-shirt. It
rode up in back, though, so that her pretty bottom kept peeking out as she went
around collecting her things and tucking them into her suitcase.
"Do you kinda wish that the rest of the world really
had blown itself up?" I asked.
She was folding one of her bras. "Oh, I don't know.
We'd probably get tired of eating cheesecake eventually."
"They'd run out. Then we'd have to eat whatever it is
that Valentin eats."
"He gets cheesecake sometimes, don't you think? When
they have some left over?"
"I don't know. He's pretty skinny."
"I wonder why Meryl didn't think of him."
"Yeah. Good question. Wrong table, I suppose."
"I suppose."
I crammed my sports coat in between my shirts and my
underwear bag. She gave the zipper of her suitcase a final tug.
"Besides," she said. "Your algorithms would miss you."
I slipped on my trousers and rolled the bags out into the
corridor. There were a surprising number of people walking by, and every single
one of them gawked into the room as they passed. Nothing is more titillating to
a person walking down a stateroom corridor than an open doorway.
When I got the door closed again, Molly was sitting up on the
bed with the sheet pulled up in front of her and a rather indignant look on her
face. What a lot of nerve some people had!
I couldn't help but smile. "I wonder what they thought
you were hiding back there."
View all episodes
By [email protected]
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88 ratings
A choice, a trap, and a necklace.
By HectorBidon. Listen to the
Podcast at Steamy
Stories.
The next morning's sun found its way in through our porthole
once again. We had sorted ourselves out somewhat during the night. I was on my
side, tangled in a bit of sheet. She was on her side, tangled in a bit of
blanket. I could just make out the pale tan lines on her bottom and her back.
We'd become cabin buddies of a different order. At the
Jack-and-Ciara level. That's probably what most people would have assumed all
along, but I certainly hadn't, and I didn't think that she had either.
And yet, here we were.
I waited a while for her to wake up, but she didn't. So I
finally got up myself.
We'd just passed through the entrance in the seawall at
Ensenada and were coming up to our docking site. The pilot, or maybe it was the
captain himself, was standing on a little deck that jutted out from the side of
the ship to joy-stick our massive vessel precisely up to the pier.
Molly was still in bed when I got back. She smiled and went
to the bathroom, a little embarrassed to be still naked while I was already
dressed. Her pubic hair, I noticed, was trim and attractive.
She came out wearing a towel and had her coffee. We checked
the day's schedule. She was delighted to discover that they'd transferred Mrs.
Pendergast's excursion ticket to me.
A little later that morning we went ashore. It was a strange
sensation, stepping off the gangway into a foreign country. Somehow I expected
every little thing to be different and exotic, but the first thing we
encountered, sprouting up through a crack in the pavement, was a little tuft of
grass. Nothing exotic at all, just plain old grass.
Our excursion van was heralded by a woman with a clipboard,
a younger, more boisterous, Mexican Denise. There were three other couples in
our group and a single unaccompanied woman about Ciara's age. I took a seat
next to the window with Molly beside me with the unaccompanied woman next to
her. Her name was Meryl. This was her first real vacation since her divorce.
She was really excited to be having such an adventure.
We drove through the streets of Ensenada, our guide giving us
a bit of local color in her prettily accented English. The scene was at once
familiar and strange: traffic and lane markings and stop lights just exactly
like at home, but unintelligible store signs in unlikely colors painted
directly on pastel stucco walls. Beyond the city were dusty, cactus-strewn
hills not unlike the Catalina hinterland.
Our destination was a site called the Bufadora, a cleft in
the rocky sea cliff where ocean waves sent up enormous geyser-like sprays. The
sprays were so high that we got wet even at our vantage point fifty feet above
the water.
The path back from the observation point was lined with
gaudy souvenir shops, like the midway of a county fair. Meryl had tagged along
with Molly and me. We stopped at one of the taco stands for lunch.
"So how did you guys meet?"
Molly didn't volunteer an answer.
"Just here on the cruise, actually," I said.
"Really? See, aren't cruises great?" Molly gushed.
After lunch we went into one of the souvenir shops and Meryl
asked our opinion about all the little nick-nacks she wanted to buy. When we
got back to the van, I ended up sitting in the middle.
"The nicest thing." she said. "is that every
day you make new friends."
We drove back through town, then out into the desert in a
different direction to a picturesque winery. We sat around a table on a
palm-shaded patio and sampled the different vintages. Meryl chatted on about
Simi Valley and the cruise and her ex and the weather and the ship and the
people she'd met. She got me to go into the little gift shop with her to help
pick out a couple bottles.
Molly was quiet at dinner. I had to remind her that we'd
made plans to see the comedy show with Meryl.
"I've got a bit of a headache," she said. "I
think I'll go back to the room."
Meryl was waiting in the forward theatre. She was sorry to
hear about Molly's headache and put her hand on my arm to convey her concern.
The show turned out to be pretty adult-rated, pretty raunchy in fact. Meryl
yucked it up
After the show she suggested we take a spin about the deck.
The ship had set sail again and we were just passing the exposed wreck that
lies up against the sea wall. Somehow Meryl managed to tuck herself inside my
arm.
"Wouldn't you just love to go dancing?" she cooed.
"I, uh, Actually, I've kind of got to go
now."
"But the night is still young.” Meryl rebutted. “Let's
at least stop by my room first."
"I've got to check on Molly." I insisted
"We can open one of the tequilas."
"Thanks, but,”
"It's just that, I was kind of hoping to get lucky
tonight."
Christ Almighty. A guy tries to be a gentleman. I didn't
need an etiquette book for this one. I finally managed to pry myself away,
When I got back to the room, Molly was in her pajamas,
watching TV.
"Is your headache any better?" I asked.
She didn't look up from the screen.
I sat on the chair and twisted around to see what she was
watching. A travelogue of some sort.
"You didn't miss much," I said. "The show was
kind of,"
But she leaned in closer to the screen to make it clear that
I was interrupting her program. Something about the way the locals made their
tortillas.
OK. I got the message. She didn't like the fact that I'd
gone to the show with Meryl. I went into the bathroom to pee. I'd only been
trying to be polite to a fellow cruise member. Was that a crime? Molly had been
there when we'd made the plans. I thought that she'd been trying to be friendly
too. That we'd sort of taken Meryl under our wing.
I came out of the bathroom a minute later, and sat down on the
chair again. The secret to the tortillas, apparently, had something to do with
lime juice.
"I didn't expect to see you back here tonight,"
Molly said. In a sarcastic tone of voice. As if my presence was an imposition.
As if she was sorry she'd ever offered to share the room in the first place.
I didn't even bother to answer. I got undressed, then
crawled up onto my side of the bed. Where else was I supposed to go? I got
under the blanket and turned toward the bulkhead. A guy tries to be a
gentleman. And this is what he gets.
I woke up first again, the next morning. I went up on deck.
Did she really think that I'd found Meryl even the least bit attractive? She
was a fellow shipmate, nothing more. I'd thought that we'd both been trying to
be polite to her. Was that a crime?
I brought back coffee and a croissant, but Molly was still
asleep. Or pretending to be. I banged around a little, but she didn't budge.
Finally I got fed up and left.
So here I was again, back to my usual routine, wandering
down empty corridors, drifting up little-used gangways, poking around lonely
corners where nobody else much ever cared to go. Doing what I probably would
have been doing if I'd gotten my single in the first place.
I came back to the room around lunch time, but Molly wasn't
there. I wandered up to the pool. Denise was there, chatting with some people.
She waved. Meryl was there, stalking about, but I managed to slip away before
she saw me. But no Molly.
It was a long day. The ship had parked itself out in the
middle of the ocean somewhere. Or maybe the rest of the world really had blown
itself up and they just hadn't told us. I eventually ended up back in the
little coffee shop at the tail end of the ship. The sky seemed a lot flatter
though, the seagulls a lot more listless, my algorithms a lot less interesting.
Finally I got up again and trudged back down into the labyrinth.
The casino was practically empty. The lower piano bar was
closed. The little art gallery was still showing the same old photographs.
The gift shop was open. The same lady was behind the
counter. What was it that Molly had asked to see? A necklace. It must have
been, that one. The lady brought it out. A pair of crystalline dolphins on a
slender silver chain. They sparkled in the light.
Molly still wasn't in the room when I got back. This time
our towel had been folded into a seal, sunning itself on the bedspread. I moved
it a little closer to her pillow and arranged the necklace around its neck.
There were still a couple hours until dinner. I thought it
might be better if I wasn't there when she got back.
I got to dinner right on time. It was our last night on
board, and the dining room was even more boisterous than usual.
"Where's Molly?" asked Ciara.
"She had a little headache. She might not be joining
us."
Valentin our waiter was really joshing it up, angling for a
big end-of-trip tip. He was just taking the drink orders when Molly appeared.
She was wearing a pink skirt, a whitish blouse,, and the necklace. Her
eye caught mine as she made her way around the table, but quickly shot away
again.
Ciara asked her how she was doing. The couple on my other
side were there for once. Tom and somebody. He was in air conditioning and gave
me the full rundown. It was too noisy for Molly and me to talk, but every time
I looked, she was still wearing the necklace.
It being our last night, the waiters were going to put on a
little show. Just after they passed out the dessert plates they went into a
huddle near the service entrance. Molly leaned over.
"Do you want to go back to the room?"
We got up.
"Oh, are you guys going to the revue?" asked
Ciara.
Molly replied in the louder voice you had to use to make
yourself heard. But the room was beginning to quiet down in a hush, as the
waiters were taking their places, and so the whole table heard what she said.
"Make-up sex."
The table burst into laughter. Molly continued her way out
of the room, and I just followed sheepishly behind her.
"Can you forgive me?" she asked as we got out into
the hallway.
"For letting everybody know where we're going?"
"For last night. I'm so sorry for the way I acted. It
was my fault. It was all my fault."
"The worst part is, we wasted a whole day," I
remorsed.
"We still have tonight." She tried to assure me.
"Yeah. We still have tonight." I agreed.
As soon as we got into the room we fell into each other's
arms.
"I love the necklace," she murmured.
"It looks really nice on you."
We kissed and shuffled toward the bed.
But my blood was pumping. I was thinking about our wasted
day.
"Let's do something first, want to?” I pleaded. “It's
our last night. Let's get our money's worth. Let's go to the show! Let's go
dancing! Let's shoot for that royal flush! The bed will still be here when we
get back. But let's make up for some of the things we didn't do today. Let's
paint the ship red. Okay? Want to? C'mon! Hup hup!"
Jack and Ciara were surprised to see us at the theatre.
"That was quick," Ciara said with a look of
astonishment.
Molly blushed. I put my arm around her and pulled her tight.
"You ain't seen nothing yet."
The review was Motown classics, the Supremes, the Four Tops.
"You can't hurry love, no you'll just have to wait,” The whole auditorium
was singing along. The girls pulled Jack and me up from our seats to dance in
the aisle. "Sugar pie, honeybunch, you know that I love you,”
Afterwards, the night was balmy, perfect for a stroll on
deck. We could see lights off in the distance, the rest of the world was still
there after all! We ran into Meryl, wrapped in the arm of a dapper, middle-aged
gentleman whose smile was just as smug as hers was. We exchanged pleasantries.
She gave us both a little wink.
“Molly, perhaps I’m clueless. Did you have any idea that
Meryl was going to try to hit on me?” I had to ask.
“Oh, my God!” Molly stared at me. “All day long, she was
angling for you. I thought you were trying for a threesome, and my fake
headache was me forcing you to choose one or the other.”
“What? I thought you and I were just trying to be
hospitable; you know, so she’d have some friends to socialize with.”
“Well,” Molly confessed. “I finally figured out that you
were completely innocent, but it took me until late afternoon to dispel my
worst presumptions.”
“I went to the show, because we told her we’d both join her,
there.” I explained. “ When you were bedridden with a headache, I assumed it
fell on me to go alone, even though I really didn’t want to be away from you.“
“Ah, really? That’s so sweet!” Molly gushed. She gave me a
deep kiss right there on the mezzanine. “I assumed you went because you wanted
another notch on your belt. I’m so, so sorry.”
“Well, when the performance ended, I said I had to head back
to you. She did try every diversion. I passed on all of them. Then she flatly
told me she was ‘hoping to get lucky’ with me. I told her I definitely could
not accommodate that, and I walked straight back to our room.”
“Oh, I was awful to you!” Molly lamented. “But I was also
right about that slut’s intentions, wasn’t I?” Molly paused, then added; “When
I finally got over my inner rage, I realized that you didn’t come back smelling
like cunt. Hell, you didn’t even have lipstick smeared on your face.”
This afternoon, I finally left my hiding spot, and saw you were heading
to dinner, I went to the cabin and saw this beautiful necklace. I
literally cried. I don’t deserve you. You don’t deserve my juvenile drama. I’d
planned to skip the dinner, but when I saw the dolphin necklace, I had to come
and grovel your forgiveness.”
“You know, Molly” I paused. “Perhaps I was too clueless,
yesterday. Perhaps you were too presuming?” Do you think we can both help to
balance each other?”
“Oh, I love that! Yes, let’s balance each other. “
The nightclubs were hopping. We wound our way from one to
the other, dancing one dance in each. But then we decided to forgo the casino
and just head back to the cabin. And sure enough, the bed was still there,
right where we'd left it.
We kissed. I ran my hands up along her sides, up inside her
blouse. She undid my buttons and pulled open my shirt. I fiddled with her skirt
and managed to slip it down over the swell of her hips. She unfastened my belt
buckle and my button and my zipper. I slid my hands down inside her panties.
She slid hers down inside my underpants. We pawed and shucked and kicked off
everything that remained. And then she took off the very last thing that she
was wearing, the crystalline necklace, and placed it carefully on the
nightstand.
I backed her down onto the bed. I kissed the pretty spot
where the necklace had been, and the spot next to that, and the spot next to
that. She lay back and closed her eyes and let herself be kissed.
I settled myself down on top of her, stroking her full
lovely body with my own, savoring her softness and her excitement, trying to
fuse our unfortunate separateness into something more fulfilling. And somehow,
in the midst of our kissing and our stroking, my penis must have slid up at
just the right angle, and her hips must have been open to just the right
degree, and we coupled, as adroitly as if that had been our conscious intention,
as naturally as if we were two jungle cats whose lithe jungle bodies just
instinctively knew how to fuck.
And somewhere in the midst of our coupling we sweetly came,
but it was not so much a climax as just a sweet vista point along the way. For
just as we hadn't consciously willed our engagement, neither did we ever
willfully disengage, but just eventually nestled more comfortably down beside
each other, still caressing, still softly kissing, still sweetly fused.
The loudspeaker blasted us awake early the next morning. Our
luggage needed to be out in the hallway for pickup by eight o'clock sharp!
Molly wriggled a bit deeper under the blanket.
"Uh," she groaned. "Just five more minutes."
I remembered the look on her face, when had it been? just four
days ago, when we first learned we might have to share the cabin together.
She'd been just as uncertain as I had. But now it was hard to imagine any other
arrangement. Her lying in bed beside me, trying to squeeze in a few more
minutes of sleep, leaving it up to me to keep track of the time, I wouldn't
have had it any other way.
We hadn't begun to pack yet, but we'd kept things fairly
organized. I gave her a generous five minutes, and then I gave her a little
nudge. "C'mon, sleepyhead. Up and at um."
She groaned, but she dragged herself out of bed. We were
both still naked. I slipped on a pair of boxers, and she put on a T-shirt. It
rode up in back, though, so that her pretty bottom kept peeking out as she went
around collecting her things and tucking them into her suitcase.
"Do you kinda wish that the rest of the world really
had blown itself up?" I asked.
She was folding one of her bras. "Oh, I don't know.
We'd probably get tired of eating cheesecake eventually."
"They'd run out. Then we'd have to eat whatever it is
that Valentin eats."
"He gets cheesecake sometimes, don't you think? When
they have some left over?"
"I don't know. He's pretty skinny."
"I wonder why Meryl didn't think of him."
"Yeah. Good question. Wrong table, I suppose."
"I suppose."
I crammed my sports coat in between my shirts and my
underwear bag. She gave the zipper of her suitcase a final tug.
"Besides," she said. "Your algorithms would miss you."
I slipped on my trousers and rolled the bags out into the
corridor. There were a surprising number of people walking by, and every single
one of them gawked into the room as they passed. Nothing is more titillating to
a person walking down a stateroom corridor than an open doorway.
When I got the door closed again, Molly was sitting up on the
bed with the sheet pulled up in front of her and a rather indignant look on her
face. What a lot of nerve some people had!
I couldn't help but smile. "I wonder what they thought
you were hiding back there."
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