Love on a Family Cruise

"Rick, you didn't have to do that," she said.

"No, but I wanted to," I replied. "My kids are way too old and too cool to build a castle; I don't get a chance to enjoy watching a 3-year old play in the sand anymore." After a pause, I asked "Do you need someone to put sunblock on your back?"

"Yes, actually I do," she replied, "before I end up in the infirmary with third-degree burns."

She pointed to a deck chair where I recognized her bag; I fetched her sunblock and gently caressed it onto her back like I had the day before. Out of the corner of my eye, it looked as if she was closing her eyes and concentrating on feeling my fingers touching her as much as I was trying to memorize the textures of her back.

With the kids now equipped, they suddenly needed a lot less attention. I pulled a couple of chairs closer to the waves and we actually got to sit down. "You don't have to stay here and help me watch the kids," she said, "there's so much to do here."

"If you don't want me to stay here, just tell me and I'll head back to the ship," I replied, "but other than that, my kids are in the club and don't want to see me, and somehow beach activities are not as fun by yourself." I paused to help Jenny fill her sand pail. "Besides, I like playing with your kids, they're so cute." I paused for a second, then looked up at Kelly, adding "They take after their mother." If it hadn't been clear before, it was obvious that I liked Kelly. In spite of that, she showed no signs of balking at my attention.

In the late afternoon, Kelly said "Rick, there's a neat little party for the 3-5 year olds in the club tonight. I'm going to feed the kids early and then take them to the club so they can take part. That means I'll actually be able to have dinner in the dining room tonight. Would you care to join me?"

"I would love to," I said, trying not to belie on the outside the fact that my brain was jumping for joy on the inside. I was on cloud nine the rest of the afternoon.

I decided it was best to let her take care of getting her kids ready by herself, so I told her I'd meet her at the port side deck bar at 5:30. I put on a shirt and tie and was sitting at the bar nursing a drink by 5:15, as if I would miss her if I weren't in position when she walked past. I needn't have worried; I saw her the second she popped out on deck. And I wasn't the only one who noticed her—dressed for dinner, she was simply ravishing. She was wearing a halter-topped sundress, pale yellow with flower prints primarily in orange. It was loose and flowing, ending a couple of inches above the knee. But it accentuated her tan skin, emphasizing her shapely legs and making the cut exposing her cleavage appear deeper than it was. When she stood up very little was visible, but when she moved those wonderful globes didn't always go where they were supposed to and they would peek out from behind her dress. She had a short black sweater over the dress in case the dining room air conditioning was too cold, contrasting with her white high-heel sandals. She also had worked on her hair; it was still long and flowing, but there were more loose curls amid the auburn cascade than before.

I got off my stool, at which time she saw me and headed my way. I wanted to at least hug her, but the only physical contact we had had to that point was putting sunscreen on her back; it didn't seem appropriate. So I simply gestured towards the nearest door and said "Shall we?"

She smiled and said "Sure," then wrapped her arm around mine so I could escort her to the dining room. Neither of us had gone to dinner the first two nights; the waiters were surprised to see new faces popping up on the third day of the cruise. Nevertheless, dinner was outstanding; even the appetizers took at least 15 words each to describe on the menu. The waiter made suggestions and did not steer us wrong, either on food or in the bottle of wine we shared.

We were of course stuffed to the gills after dinner, so I suggested that we should take a walk on the top deck. She accepted my invitation and held my hand as we walked the deck. The strong winds the ship generated danced with her hair. The last rays of sunlight were sinking below the horizon on the starboard side; we stopped to watch the beautiful sunset. I put one arm around her waist while we stood by the deck rail; she responded by moving closer to me, pulling my other arm around her waist as well. I clasped my hands together around her, and she laid her hands on top of mine. My head was right above her shoulder, and I could feel the rising and falling of her breath. She felt warm and soft, and smelled...well, wonderfully feminine. For that moment, everything was right with the world.

"You know, you only live like an hour and half drive from me," I said softly, since her ear was right by my mouth. "I know people who commute that far to and from work every day."

She turned a little so she could look at me.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is," I said haltingly, "that, once we get back home and all, maybe we could...that is I'd sure like to maybe take you out to dinner sometime."

She turned the rest of the way around so she was facing me, and put her arms on my shoulders. "Are you asking me out on a date?" she said with a gleam in her eye.

"Uh, well," I hemmed and hawed, suddenly unsure of myself, "you could say that tonight was a date, and I just thought that since you live so close, maybe we could do it again even after the cruise ends. I could even bring along a babysitter, my daughter has passed the babysitting course, and..." The flow of words stopped, because Kelly was pressing her lips against mine. Our first kiss, and I had been caught completely off-guard.

I was speechless when the kiss came to an end. "You're very sweet, Rick, and you've been very nice to me and to my kids. I'd love to have you come down and go out to dinner with you. Bringing Heather is very thoughtful, but won't be necessary; I can leave the kids with my mother if I need a babysitter. She doesn't live too far away."

I was torn about what to do next; I wanted to get at least her phone number in case I somehow lost track of her, but I doubted I had anything on me to write with, and besides I didn't want to have to let go of her, she felt so soft and wonderful in my arms. Just then a beeping sound interrupted the reverie; her beeper was going off. She checked it, and sure enough, she needed to go attend to her kids.

"I'm sorry, Rick...I'd love to stay here and watch the sunset with you, but..." she started.

"I know. The kids should always come first." I said. Then suddenly what I had just said about Heather babysitting gave me an idea. "Hey...would you feel comfortable with Heather babysitting?"

"I've never met her," she said, "but I guess I don't see why not."

"If I can arrange it, how would you feel if we let Heather babysit for the kids tomorrow night?" I asked. Then we could go to dinner and do whatever we wanted to afterwards without having to worry about getting paged."

I could see she was torn, and further under time pressure to get the kids. I told her "Think about it, I'll look for you at the pool tomorrow."

She brightened, saying "OK. I'm getting spoiled by all your help with the kids." She reached up and kissed me again. "Good night, Rick. See you tomorrow?"

"You bet" I replied, and with that she was off.

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At breakfast, I worked out a plan with my kids. Anthony's club had a late-night movie, so I could send him to the club until at least midnight. I promised Heather that I would buy her that expensive thingy in the gift shop if she would babysit Kelly's kids from 6-12; I suggested she might want to swim with them until it was just before their bedtime to tire them out. Then, before Kelly left for the pool, I stopped by to say good morning and introduce Heather to Kelly and her family. Then we went our separate ways; Kelly's family to the pool, the kids to their club, and me—well, nowhere. I had decided it would be best to give them a good hour or so head start before I went up to join them, so I found a place to watch the news and drank too much coffee.

When I did go up, it was almost like we had a routine; I put sunscreen on Kelly's back, then I sat with her by the pool to watch her kids. The topic of tonight came up.

"Your daughter seems very mature and trustworthy," Kelly said.

"Yes, especially since her mother passed on. She makes a very good babysitter for her age," I added.

"What were you thinking for tonight?" Kelly asked.

"I was hoping we could go to dinner like last night, but then we could have some time to ourselves afterward," I explained. "We could walk the deck, or go to a show, or sit in a bar—whatever you like. Heather can put your kids to bed, and Anthony is at a late movie until midnight. I just thought it might be nice to know that we could have a whole evening to ourselves without getting beeped."

I could tell she was interested, but felt perhaps a little guilty, like she was shirking her responsibilities as a mom. I didn't think the kids would mind as much as she imagined.

"Hey Jenny, Jeremy," I called to them. By now they were used to my being around, so they responded to me "Did you like my daughter Heather who you met this morning?"

"Yeah!" they replied. Kids love being with older kids.

"What would you think if, after dinner, Heather went swimming with you while mom went to dinner? Then Heather will put you to bed, but don't worry—mommy will be there when you wake up in the morning. Sound like fun?"

"Yeah! Can we mom? Can we mom?" the crowed.

"OK, OK, you win," Kelly laughed, referring both to me and to her kids. "You can have Heather babysit for you tonight."

I smiled at Kelly and she locked gazes with me—until Jenny tugged on her arm for something. I stayed with them until midafternoon, when we both went to our cabins to pack as best we could—tomorrow morning we would be back in port. I also had to make sure of the arrangements for dinner that night—like going with Heather to buy her that thing she wanted badly enough to babysit for.

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Heather and I knocked on Kelly's cabin door at 6:00. We heard excited shouting from the kids inside even before the door opened. It opened a crack, and two little kids in swimsuits ran out and grabbed hold of Heather; she was a little taken aback by the welcome. Then the door opened fully and I saw Kelly. It literally took my breath away.

Kelly was wearing a dark green, jewel-tone dress, again wide and loose but ending about mid-thigh. It had a plunging neckline and was held up by two thin spaghetti straps. Her pendulous breasts pushed outwards on the dress, with the result being that a healthy slice of her breasts was visible, peeking out in the middle. Her hair was long and wavy and flowed about her shoulders like a veil. With the dress she wore high heels with clear plastic straps, the kind that are supposed to be invisible from a distance. She was reaching for her little sweater as she headed out into the hallway.

"Mommy's all dressed up tonight!" Jeremy informed Heather.

"So I see," said Heather, shooting me a look that may have been intended to mean something like "way to go dad," but with a 13-year old who can tell?

"Kelly," I stammered, "you look...incredible tonight." Suddenly my shirt and tie didn't seem dressy enough; I wish I had packed a jacket or even a tux.

"Thank you," she said shyly.

"Lets go swim, let's go swim!" Jeremy and Jenny began chanting together.

"OK, OK, we can go swimming," replied Heather as the kids tried to drag her down the hall. She held them off long enough to get final instructions from Kelly, then gave in and was dragged to the deck much like if she had been walking an oversized Great Dane.

"I wish I had a jacket to wear, I feel underdressed," I said.

"You feel underdressed? I'm the one that's half-naked," she confided.

I didn't know how to respond; most of what I was thinking was dreadfully inappropriate. "You don't look half-naked, you look completely stunning" is what I eventually came up with.

"Well, thank you. I only packed my sexy dress because my girlfriends told me to; I didn't think there was any way I'd actually have occasion to wear it. Guess they were right." She gave me a peck on the cheek, then took my arm and we headed to dinner.

I had paid extra to dine in the optional, ultra-fancy restaurant. As a result, instead of being at a larger table we had a table for two by a large window that looked out over the stern of the ship. We could watch the wake of our boat as we cut through the ocean waves. The lighting was romantically subtle, and I bought us a bottle of the best wine in the house to share with dinner. We were in no hurry today, and enjoyed each others' company; over two hours had passed before we finished dinner.

After leaving the restaurant, I put my arms around her as she held the railing and we looked out from the deck at the sea. "So what strikes your fancy tonight? Dancing? A show? An after-dinner drink? Nice thing about cruises—you name it, its here."

"I'd kind of like to just sit somewhere where we can look out at the ocean and maybe have another bottle of wine," she replied.

When she said that, it dawned on me that she had an interior cabin; because I had expected to spend a lot of time bored and by myself, I had spent a little more for a room with a porthole. It was much more than I expected—a window probably five feet across, with a small foyer/seating area arranged to allow the best possible views out the porthole.

"You've not seen my room, have you?" I said. "I've got an exterior room with a beautiful porthole—and a love seat in just the right place to look out from. But I don't know if you would feel comfortable in my cabin..."

She turned and put her arms around me. "No? Should I not trust you?" she kidded. We kissed, then she said "I'm very curious to see what your view is like."

I led her to my cabin, holding the door open for her. "Wow," she said, seeing the view for the first time. She took off her sweater and dropped it on the bureau while I ordered a bottle of wine from room service. She stood in front of the window admiring the view while I was on the phone, then when she heard me hang up she moved over to the love seat and met me there. She sat, knees together and pointed towards the porthole, her whole body slightly slanted so as to see out. I sat next and slightly behind her, my left arm around her, my right hand holding hers. We sat, saying nothing, enjoying the view and the closeness of each other's proximity, until the door knock announced the arrival of the wine.

I answered the door, brought over the wine and poured two glasses. Then I resumed my position, only now we each held a wine glass in our right hands. Fortunately my cabin was on the starboard side; the sun was already below the horizon but red light still faintly colored clouds in the distance and provided a little light with which to see the sea.

"It's beautiful," she sighed finally.

"Not as beautiful as you," I replied, then regretted it; "I'm sorry, that was corny." In spite of myself I kissed her shoulder.

She turned toward me with a look I'd never seen before in her eyes. "It may be corny, but you say it like you mean it."

"I do mean it," I replied. "I can't tell you how much better this cruise has been than I ever dreamed it could be—and all because of the time I've spend with you."

Kelly put down her wine glass, so I did too. She turned towards me now, and held my hands in hers. Her eyes searched mine, but what she sought I did not know. "You are really very sweet, Rick. Thank you for all the help with the kids."

"Oh, it's no problem..." I started.

"...and thank you for the wonderful times you've given me," she interrupted. "I thought I would just be a mommy for four solid days. I never dreamed I'd get...time for me...like I have."

I didn't know what to say. What I was thinking that the last girl I had feelings for like I was experiencing at that moment, I had eventually married. I decided to kiss her to break the awkward pause. She responded as she hadn't before; she pulled me close to her, wrapping her arms around my neck, and we made out repeatedly—with tongue. Because she held me so close, I felt those wonderful globes pressing against my chest. They felt soft yet firm; I couldn't stop thinking about how their heft and mass must feel.

Suddenly she stopped and pulled back; I let her take whatever space she needed. I think she had a touch of guilt, or maybe she like me was worried about not pushing too far too fast.

"I'm sorry, if you don't feel comfortable, we can go somewhere else, or..." I stammered.

She put her finger over my mouth to shush me. "Rick, you're so thoughtful. No, if there's a problem, it's that I feel too comfortable here, with you. I did only just meet you three days ago."

"I understand," I said. "Please, take all the space you need. I...." I wasn't sure if I should say what I was thinking, but now that I'd started to say it, I was kind of stuck. "I...haven't felt like this since I was dating my first wife. I don't want to risk losing something with real potential because I was too impatient."

Something melted inside her when I said that.

"Rick," she said, stroking my chin, "you're been the perfect gentleman ever since I first met you. And I really appreciate it, because it's still hard to start over, even after all this time. What I'm trying to say is...I feel strongly for you too, Rick, and sometimes it's hard because those feeling stir up memories of my husband. But he's gone and never coming back—and you're here—and you've been so nice..." she held me tight and we made out again. This time, there was urgency in the way she kissed me; I worked hard to keep my lust under control.

Suddenly she stopped again, and asked "What time is it?"

I thought she was worried about her kids; I glanced at the clock and told it was almost 10:00.

"And Anthony is at a movie until midnight?" she asked.

"Yes, should be," I answered, not sure why that was important.

"Rick, would you go put out the 'Do Not Disturb' sign and bolt the door?" she asked.

I wasn't about to say no to that. My heart was racing as I went to secure the door. What did she have in mind?

When I turned around, she was no longer on the love seat; she had kicked off her shoes and was laying on her side on the bed, head propped up on one arm, smoothing the bed covers in front of her in case there was any question as to where I should go. I gulped, slipped out of my shoes and lay on the bed, facing her but six inches away.

"What's the matter? Am I poison?" she whispered. I slid closer, and she held me and we kissed some more. Not only did I feel her breasts, but she ran her foot up and down the side of my leg as we were kissing. My penis began to stir, but I had no graceful way to adjust it to a more comfortable position.

She stopped kissing me and let go her grip, but stayed pressed against me. She again propped up her head, but this time she was playing with the left spaghetti strap of her dress. "I know that you can be the perfect gentleman," she breathed, "perhaps you'd like to...NOT be a gentleman for a little while?" She lifted her head, reached over with her right hand, and slipped the spaghetti strap off of her shoulder, pulling it down as far as it would go, producing the intended result: her wonderful, spherical breast was now completely uncovered. "I've noticed you seem to like looking at these," she cooed. I was busted, but perhaps in a good way. "Interested in a closer look?"

Her exposed breast was even more breathtaking than I had imagined. Her areola was large and brownish red, and the answer to the earlier question was no: there wasn't a third color of tan on its skin. Her breast was round and sagged surprisingly little for its mass.