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Maiden Voyage: Part 2
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."
She rolled her eyebrows.
But I was feeling a little playful. The final day's schedule was
lying on the floor. I picked it up and pretended it was an official
form.
"Customs inspection, Miss, May I see what you've got behind
that sheet?"
She wasn't so sure she wanted to show me. She coyly raised the
sheet a little higher.
"That shirt you're wearing, Miss. Did you purchase it
abroad?"
She looked down behind the sheet. This old thing?.
"Regulations, Miss; It may contain contraband fibers."
I held out my hand. "May I see it please?"
She huffed. Bureaucrats! Without letting go of the sheet she
wriggled one arm out of its sleeve and then the other one. Then she
pulled the shirt off over her head and handed it to me, all the
while keeping herself demurely shielded from any and all prying
eyes.
I inspected the shirt, inside and out. White cotton, picture of a
bamboo stalk, slightly warm. I brought it up to my nose. Girl smell,
subtle but intriguing. I turned it over. No detectable contraband
fibers. I made a mark on my customs form.
"And what else do you have behind the sheet, Miss?"
"Why nothing, Officer. Nothing at all." Couldn't I tell
that she was just an innocent traveler trying to get back ho
View all episodes
By Dawkins BlogMaiden 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."
She rolled her eyebrows.
But I was feeling a little playful. The final day's schedule was
lying on the floor. I picked it up and pretended it was an official
form.
"Customs inspection, Miss, May I see what you've got behind
that sheet?"
She wasn't so sure she wanted to show me. She coyly raised the
sheet a little higher.
"That shirt you're wearing, Miss. Did you purchase it
abroad?"
She looked down behind the sheet. This old thing?.
"Regulations, Miss; It may contain contraband fibers."
I held out my hand. "May I see it please?"
She huffed. Bureaucrats! Without letting go of the sheet she
wriggled one arm out of its sleeve and then the other one. Then she
pulled the shirt off over her head and handed it to me, all the
while keeping herself demurely shielded from any and all prying
eyes.
I inspected the shirt, inside and out. White cotton, picture of a
bamboo stalk, slightly warm. I brought it up to my nose. Girl smell,
subtle but intriguing. I turned it over. No detectable contraband
fibers. I made a mark on my customs form.
"And what else do you have behind the sheet, Miss?"
"Why nothing, Officer. Nothing at all." Couldn't I tell
that she was just an innocent traveler trying to get back ho