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Lactogenesis XLV: The Cruise part 3
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
LACTOGENESIS XLV: THE CRUISE, PART THREE
Christine let Jonah lead her off the observation deck and down
through several levels of the ship. She was still a bit disoriented from
the combination of sensations still coursing through her body: pain from
the collision with Jonah which had resulted in his saving her from going
overboard, residual tingling from the orgasm which had almost been her
last, the remains of the buzz from the wine she'd consumed earlier that
evening, and strong attraction, on several levels, for this second officer
of the Carib Mermaid. Prevailing at the moment was gratitude for her
rescue, but a close second was how taken she was with how almost regal the
man was in his mannerisms, his politeness, the seriousness with which he
took his job, and his undivided attentions toward her. Over dinner that
evening she had noted that he was good at hinting that he had a naughty
side without being outwardly crude, which intrigued her. Her
traffic-stopping body, enhanced as it was by the cut of her dress, had
clearly made an impression on him then, and he had been able to
communicate his interest to her while the other guests at the Captain's
Table had no clue of the building heat between them. Chris remembered how
moist she had gotten when that realization had hit her. There was no
doubt in her mind that Jonah must have seduced dozens of female passengers
before her, yet he made her feel like she was the first. The fact that he
was absolutely gorgeous and she was extremely horny didn't hurt, either.
Chris noted as Jonah led her through the ship that the corridors
were very narrow and unadorned. Piping hung close overhead; paint was
peeling from the walls; and the lighting was dim. It was also eerily
quiet; true, it was late, well into the wee smalls, but she expected to
see at least a few other people up at this hour. When she inquired about
this, Jonah smiled.
"I wondered how long it would be before you noticed something
different," he said. "This ship is in many ways like an old Gothic
mansion. There is an entirely separate set of corridors and hatchways
that the crew uses and the passengers know nothing about. There are even
entire sections of deck that are inaccessible to our paying customers and
which they don't even suspect exist."
"Are you taking me to one of those now?"
"Very astute of you. You're about to see a part of the Mermaid
that very few people, even crew, see with any regularity." He finished
the sentence just as they arrived at a bulkhead. Jonah undogged the hatch
which swung open, releasing into their faces a current of warm moist air
laced with the faint smell of cedar and something else...lavender,
perhaps?
Chris stepped through the hatch and into what was so obviously a
den of seduction that she had to keep from laughing at the sheer
audaciousness of it. The room was multi-leveled, with an extensive bar
along one wall, a large raised area dotted with person-sized pillows along
another, and a wide, multi-sectioned picture window (with curtains
currently drawn) spanning the long wall directly in front of her. Set in
the center of the room were not one, but two jacuzzis, both bubbling
furiously, but not so much that the thrumming of the ship's engines could
not be heard. Flower petals danced on the bubbles. The ceiling was
mirrored and illuminated by a means not immediately obvious. The walls
and floor were covered with a deep red patterned fabric, giving the
overall feeling of a turn-of-the-century bordello. Towels, robes,
glasses, an ice bucket, a bottle of asti spumante, a vase of roses, and
even a small dish containing what looked like marijuana cigarettes stood
at the ready.
"My God," said Chris. "You sailors don't believe in subtlety, do
you?"
"There's usually not enough time for that," Jonah said honestly.
"How long are you going to be aboard? Three days, four at the most.
Extended courtships aren't generally practical under those conditions."
Chris pointed to the dish. "Are those what I think they are?"
Jonah just cocked his head. "We do visit Jamaica often, you
know."
"Of course. Silly me."
Even though this was not Chris's idea of the most romantic setting
in the world, it was another new experience for her, so she decided to go
with it. She walked into the room and up to the window, whose curtains
parted at her approach. They opened to reveal that they were now at the
stern of the ship. The view was different from, but no less impressive
than, that afforded by the observation deck they had just come from. She
must have been staring out the window for some time, for when she turned
back, Jonah had already opened the champagne and had poured two glasses.
Chris simply smiled, undid a couple of strategically placed fasteners, and
in a single motion stepped out of her dress. The unusual lighting played
across her magnificent frame, accentuating the large upturned breasts, the
smooth mons, the flared hips, the well-turned thighs. Chris decided to
play the part the setting seemed to expect of her to the hilt. She pushed
her chest forward, half-lidded her eyes, and slid like a reptile down into
one of the jacuzzis. Jonah smiled appreciatively, but didn't move toward
her, as she expected. Instead, he turned his back to her. Chris blinked
in surprise, wondering what was going on, but relaxed and smiled when she
heard the crinkle of the foil covering on the bottle of spumante.
"I'm not thirsty yet," Chris said, trying to get Jonah's
attention. "I will be later though..."
Jonah glanced over his shoulder as he worked on the bottle. "What
do you think of our little nest? Several crew members worked together to
build it. This used to be part of a cargo hold. I think the captain
knows it exists, but doesn't let on. Decent fellow, the captain."
Small talk now, when I'm wet, naked, and ready? thought Chris.
What's with this guy? Maybe he just needs a little persuading....
"There's plenty of room for two, Second Officer Ballwin," she
said. "I'm still a little sore from our altercation on the deck and could
use a good neck rub." Jonah did turn at that, and when he did, Chris
started moving her body under the water, almost as a belly dancer would on
land. She would let parts of her fabulous body become momentarily
visible, then resubmerge them. Her underwater dance was enough to make a
dead man come.
Still Jonah Ballwin kept his distance, smiling blankly, soon
returning to the business of opening the bottle of asti spumante.
Chris couldn't believe it. She thought she was a pretty good
judge of when a man wanted her, and Jonah had exhibited all the classic
signs. Here she was practically sending semiphore, and he stood unmoving.
Am I being rejected here? Is he gay? Is he teasing me? All kinds of
questions started going through her mind.
Well, I'll give him another sixty seconds to finish opening that
goddamn bottle, then I'm suddenly going to get the mother of all
headaches, Chris said to herself. I don't need this, especially on
vacation.
<<to be continued>>
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