The Cruise

Jen and I had packed light for this week long excursion billed as a “cruise to nowhere”. The ship would actually take us through the Caribbean stopping at the smaller islands permitting us to swim in warm greenish water.

The ship was by any standard luxurious. There are restaurants, and three swimming pools, each having a poolside bar. For adventurous types there is rock climbing and holodeck taken right from the script of Star Trek NG.

All of this goes to sea in a floating resort that accommodates 1000 passengers plus crew for a week. Cabins above water level have verandas furnished with two chairs and a small circular table. Wifi is available as is television and cell phone service.

Anyway we came to the dock clad in denim shorts and off-the-shoulder tops finding ourselves among the mass of vacationers who would start gong aboard in minutes.

Vacationers proceeded slowly up the ramp to the deck where they were greeted by the captain, a very handsome 50-something fellow who had probably spent a lifetime at sea.

A diagram of the ship indicated the position of our cabin.

Next to that diagram there is another sign, one which I had not expected to see. It read, “This is a nude cruise. Passengers are welcome to bare all. ”

“Jenny come ‘ere. Read this.”

My wife turned her attention to the sign.

“You of all people object? ”

“No,” I said.

My wife had chosen this cruise deliberately.

We came inside a 225 square ft stateroom on the upper deck. It was like any studio apartment in the city.

“This is perfect,” I said as I put my suitcase under the bed.

Leaving her clothes to be packed later, Jen had taken a seat out on the veranda. After peeing I joined her on the veranda.

Jen’s eyes roamed over my body.

“Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?”

I remained seated staring at her.

“Stefani get your clothes off NOW.”

“Yes ma’am,” I teased.

I stood up and stepped to my right pulling the low-cut Navy square neck top off. I dropped it to my feet then unfastened the strapless bra letting it slip to the deck.

“I should get implants so my boobs can be as big as yours.”

She giggled at my remark. “One of us has to be small. There’s only so many big boob genes to go around.”

“My mom is a B.”

She nodded processing the comment silently.

I bent forward taking down my cutoffs and panties at the same time.

We went from our stateroom to the nearest pool finding several guests. Some were bathing while others relaxed in chaise-lounges. Some had drinks in hand. Everyone was nude.

A very attractive woman with breast-length high-parted dark-blond hair and blue eyes was lying in a chaise-lounge sipping her drink. The girlfriend, also a blond but with different hairstyle, lay in the lounge abutting on her chair making no secret of the romance.

Like us, they have dissimilar body types. One has the classic “hourglass” shape, The other is somewhat less curvy at the waist.

Jen struck up a conversation.

“My wife and I are on our first cruise. This is Stefani.”

“Nice to meet you,” the girl on our right said.

“Have you guys ever been on a cruise?”

“Not too many opportunities,” the girl on the left said. “We both just finished college.”

Jen asked, “what were the majors.”

“Nursing,” said the girl on the right. “I’m Michelle. She’s Chelsea.”

“How long have you guys been together?”

“Since senior year,” Michelle said. “We were roomies for a year.”

“Cool,” I replied. “Do we hear wedding bells.”

“As soon as we both find jobs,” said Chelsea.

We made small talk for more than an hour, much of it anecdotal about college days.

though other topics were not precluded. Chelsea let us know that I’m not the only girl who streaks now and then. She related the tale of going to the Halloween party wrapped in toilet tissue. “About an hour into the party I unwrapped myself. We were both loaded.”

“I can tell a better one.”

My comment got their attention.

“I jogged 4 miles completely sober wearing absolutely nothing, not even tape. ”

The two girls giggled.

They were not bashful about disclosing intimate details. Chelsea went there first. “My toy is controlled by an App on my phone.”

“I just have the old fashioned type, manually operated and with batteries. It’s not even rechargeable.”

“As long as it does the job,” Chelsea quipped.

I answered her. “It does the job.”

Chelsea asked, “where are you guys from.”

“Staten Island,” I replied.

“We’re from Boston,” Chelsea said.

I asked, “where’s school.”

Michelle, who had spoken little all this time, answered. “U Mass.”

I asked, “gay friendly.”

“Very,” said Michelle.

I asked Michelle, “do you mind answering personal questions.”

“No,” she answered.

“How often do you guys do it?”

“Do what?” Chelsea teased me.

Jen spoke. “She just wants to know what you guys do most often, each other or use the toy.”

Michelle had a quick reply. “Chelsea has it inside her but I’m controlling it.”

I gave her a grin. “I like that..”

Jen and I looked at each other. We need to get one of those.

We dipped into the pool.

Chelsea asked, “do you guys want to check out the holodeck.”

The doors slid open automatically revealing a familiar scene, Henrietta Hudson. The notion to re-enact the night we met occurred to both of us, though our exact dialog was lost to history.

Sometime later we returned to our stateroom pretending that it’s her apartment. Jen pulled me into a deep kiss, her fingers pressing my clit. Overwhelmed by the muscle tension, I plopped my ass onto the mattress letting Jenny ease me onto my back.

She crawled backward putting her tongue to my left nipple then, seconds later, it’s twin. A few more seconds elapsed. She crawled backward again, this time licking me between my Labia tasting my juices.

Jen slid two fingers deep into my vagina causing more contractions making me quiver. My hips bucked, then bucked again.

“Don’t stop babe, don’t stop.” I murmured through shallow rapid breathing.

Suddenly cum streamed evicting her fingers from my vulva leaving me huffing on my back.

Jen and I stepped into a hot shower, our caresses spreading soap on each other.

The week passed quickly. As the boat approached it’s home port, Jen and I put clothes on for the first time in a week.

I confronted her. “Why are you wearing my top?”

“Because I like it,” said Jen feigning defiance.