More Than Scenery Ch. 01

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Lis & Clare make cruise a trip to remember.
9.3k words
4.7
37.9k
25

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 02/11/2006
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dizzylia
dizzylia
73 Followers

Have you ever met one of those people who just bubble with life? You know, the people who are addictive and infectious, drawing you towards them like a moth to the flame. This story is about such a person... No, not me. I'm the moth.

Last winter after a particularly nasty fight with my boyfriend at the time, we finally called it quits and went our separate ways. Obviously, he's not the infectious, boisterous person I'm talking about. Hang on, it gets better.

He took all his things with him, of course, so I was left with an apartment that suddenly looked half full and felt emptier. Like anyone who's gone through a tough breakup, I didn't deal with things in the best possible manner. My job suffered; my apartment decayed into depressing disorder; even my car was a mess. It was obvious I needed a change.

A friend at work suggested I take a trip and finally use up some of my vacation time that would usually lie around all year collecting dust. More than ready for anything far away from my depressing apartment, I thought that sounded like a grand idea. I opened some of the usual travel sites and saw a caption reading, "Escape to the Caribbean." I don't know if any of you have experienced a New England winter, but it isn't pretty. Grey days usually give way to frigid nights, either of which might be broken up by the occasional flurries. And of course, those flurries tend to add an hour to everyone's commutes, and the commutes in turn transform the snow into grey slush to blend in with the grey days. As you can probably imagine, it doesn't take much to want to get away from it all for a while, especially when you add an emotional breakup.

"Escape" and "Caribbean". Yes, they were exactly what I needed.

In no time at all, I had my vacation time secured, a round trip ticket to New Orleans purchased, and a small cabin reserved on one of the many popular cruise lines. I was never so happy to be on a plane in my life as I was those first moments during take off. I watched the grey and brown dismal ground fade away beneath the airplane, and as everything disappeared into a puff of silvery clouds, I leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes and slept. It was the first decent sleep I'd had in a very long time.

* * *

The night before boarding, I stayed in a rather upscale hotel at the insistence of my coworker, cashing in on a little timeshare deal she'd worked out. The moment I entered the lobby, I knew she was quite right. There is nothing like pampering oneself to raise the spirits a bit. I quickly dressed for the evening in my room and went back downstairs for dinner. For the first time in ages, it actually felt good to be eating alone. After a lovely meal and an even lovelier glass of wine, I was feeling rather good about myself and daydreaming of the oversized bathtub back in my hotel room. I settled the bill and was starting to gather my things when a laugh caught my attention.

Obviously this wasn't just any laugh. It was the sound of delight that turned heads, infectious in its ability to make us smile without knowing why. I looked from table to table in the room's fake intimacy of the low lighting until I spotted a woman at the bar off in the corner. She was leaning back against the polished brass bar, flanked by two men who were quite obviously interested in her, as evidenced by their unsubtle body language. From that distance, I could see the woman's hair was a dark brown that just missed being called black, its long curls tumbling down her back to tease her shoulder blades. She was dressed in a come-hither, strapless dress of red, its material clinging to her body with the sheen of silk and ending just below her knees. Her calves were nothing short of perfection, it seemed, and her red high heeled shoes shaped her feet and ankles in the ways the rest of us try so hard to achieve. I found myself captivated by her gestures, her look, and her voice which I could just hear but was too far away to understand. A moment later she laughed again, and our eyes met.

I realized she had caught me watching and felt an immediate flush on my cheeks. I gathered my purse and stood to leave, then risked one last glance towards the woman. When I saw her eyes were still on me, I nearly bolted for the door, managing to retain just enough composure not to attract strange looks from the restaurant's hostess.

I quickly crossed the lobby, but just as I reached the elevator, the doors closed in my face, mocking me. I stood there, impatiently pushing the button like a child until I felt a small tap on my shoulder. Jumping slightly, I turned and came face to face with that same woman who had fascinated me only moments before.

"I'm sorry," I blubbered clumsily, saying the first thing that came into my head. The foolishness of it made me blush, and I let my eyes fall away from hers. The stranger dipped her head, however, and smiled right into my horror-stricken face.

"Am I making you nervous?" she asked with that dazzling smile on her face. Her voice was gentle but danced with amusement. It seemed to light up her entire face, though it might have been my imagination. Her skin was a gorgeous, healthy tan color and looked so soft, with the faintest wrinkles at the outer corners of her eyes. I could do little more than stare into those eyes, which were a stunning shade that seemed both green and blue all at the same time. In my moment of panic or shock, another thought occurred to me.

"Your eyes are amazing," I said to her in a tiny voice. By now, I'm sure my face was bright scarlet as my subconscious brain did everything it could to embarrass me in front of this dazzling woman. I stammered an apology again and dropped my gaze, just as the elevator arrived with a chipper ring and the gentle whoosh of the opening doors. Seeking escape, I ducked inside as quickly as I could, but of course, she followed. Perhaps she was as fascinated by my blundering as I was by her beauty. Maybe it was simply amusing. I never asked.

We watched each other as the elevator crawled upward gently, she with a direct and inquisitive gaze, and I with furtive bouts of pained curiosity. We were of a similar height, though she was just a little shorter than I was, and I'm barely five and a half feet tall. Of course, in those heels of hers, the difference came to nothing. The mirrored walls of the elevator brought out other differences, though. It suddenly seemed obvious to me that I was trying so hard to look classy in my white satin dress and pumps, whereas she looked so completely at home in her own outfit of red. She was confident; I was cringing. It was a wholly humbling experience, and yet I felt that flutter of excitement in my stomach once more as I studied her with sidelong glances, trying not to appear too obvious.

It soon became apparent we were both staying on the same floor. I took a deep breath and tried to smile. "I really am sorry. I'm not usually so...." I frowned and fell quiet, not at all sure what exactly it was I was trying to say, or which feelings I was battling to express.

"Taken?" the woman suggested in a cocky drawl with a wildly crooked grin as she leaned back against the handrail. "Fascinated, maybe. Attracted?" I just stared at her for a moment.

"I was thinking more along the lines of... rude," I admitted, laughing softly. "Honestly, I hope I didn't intrude, or... interrupt whatever you were doing." She just laughed and shook her head. The elevator announced our floor with another cheerful ding, and we stepped through the doors.

We both hesitated for a moment as I watched her uncertainly. Then she smiled again, and my, what a smile. "Honestly, it was the perfect 'out', so I should be thanking you," she explained, sounding so matter-of-fact. Again, I found myself staring, this time thoroughly confused. She continued, "I needed to get away so I could get to bed. My big cruise starts tomorrow. I'd hate to miss it." When she winked at me, the odd flutter in my stomach increased a couple notches. Suddenly, I gave her a ridiculously childlike grin, perhaps caught up by her absolute charisma.

"A cruise? Tomorrow? Maybe we'll meet again," said I, "and under less embarrassing conditions." I felt a need to explain myself, even though she didn't seem to need the explanation. "I've just been so tired... and I've needed this vacation so much. And..." I trailed off, however, realizing how silly it all sounded. And again, she gave me that smile.

"So I take it we might actually be on the same boat for a week," she said in that lovely contralto voice of hers. Her head tilted just enough to send a cascade of dark curls falling over her shoulder as she interpreted my nonsensical reaction. "A most thrilling prospect. Sleep well, my blushing shipmate." And with a casual wave, she turned on her finely shaped heel and walked off towards her room.

* * *

I stood there alone for a moment longer, feeling as if I'd been picked up by a whirlwind and dropped in some strange world without the ruby slippers. Collecting my thoughts, I turned in the other direction and began a slow, dazed walk toward my own room. Once inside, I leaned my forehead against the coolness of solid door with my eyes closed for a long time, my mind filled with that smile, and that laugh, and those gorgeous eyes that were neither blue nor green, but a little of each, blending into some strange, silvery shade that made me shiver with a thrill of anticipation.

It was that thrill that made my eyes bolt open in another moment of panic.

Please understand, this was something of a shock for me. Certainly, I'd noticed beautiful women before, compared notes with my friends, given frank appraisals when asked, but it was nothing like this.

This complete stranger completely captivated me in a way that had never happened to me before. Any attractions I'd ever felt towards women in the past had always been written off as random crushes and fascinations that do seem to happen from time to time, but they were nothing like this. I wanted so much to find the woman again, just to see her again, to talk to her again, to try to decipher the soft blend of perfumes coming from her delicate skin.

My eyes closed again as I pushed myself away from the door, my palms sweaty against its smooth wood. I slid the deadbolt into place and turned, stepping out of my white pumps. With clumsy fingers, I unzipped the back of my dress and carefully laid it out on the bed, inspecting it with a frugal eye for spots and wrinkles. Satisfied, I put the dress back on its hanger and returned it to my garment bag on my way to the bathroom and the oversized tub I mentioned earlier.

The bathroom was as lush and distinctive as the rest of the hotel, which was exactly what I'd been going for on my first trip to New Orleans. It was decked out in creamy marble and white tiling, and the large, clawfoot tub was snuggled into the corner. I quickly turned on both faucets and straightened only once the water had reached a comfortably hot temperature. With a healthy dollop of the complimentary bath bubbles, the room was soon filled with a comforting humidity that was hazed with the soft scents of a rose garden.

Turning towards the large full-length mirror beside the tub, I regarded myself for a long moment while breathing in the delightful bouquet. I was still wearing the clinging, white silk slip that just barely covered my hips. I had decided earlier to skip panties, as the lines showed through my dress. I was reminded most startlingly at that moment. Gently, I reached down and touched one finger to the lips just out of sight behind the hem of the undergarment and found them to be wet.

No, not wet... that really doesn't do it justice.

They were so saturated with my own juices, it was a surprise there was no tell-tale glistening on the insides of my thighs. Of course, going by the feel of things, that wasn't far off, and watching myself do this was quickly escalating the experience.

For a moment, I stood frozen as if unsure what to do next. This was obviously a rather silly thing to do, but this was not a normal situation. I gave my reflection a sudden, wicked smile and lifted that finger to my lips and licked. The fact I'd never been brave enough to try that before still amuses me to this day. It wasn't so much the taste I enjoyed but the feeling, the silky liquid with the familiar scent, just tangy enough to make me shiver. Forgetting my earlier anxiety, I laughed and winked at my reflection. Yes, I was finally over my embarrassment for the moment. With a silly giggle, I lifted the slip over my head and dropped it to the floor, then ran my hands down my sides and turned away from the mirror.

I would not say I am unattractive, but I can't say I'm a showstopper. I keep myself in good condition as I quickly near thirty, and I don't think I've ever left my "normal" weight range. In general, I look like a former athlete who isn't quite as active as she used to be but does what she can.

My hair is an ashy blonde that lightens easily under the summer sun. Its gentle waves just touch the tops of my shoulders. My eyes are rather almond shaped and a deep blue with just a hint of evergreen around the edges. The rest of my features are far from perfect, with a nose that sometimes seems a little too large, skin that could be a little less flawed. Perhaps I'm being more critical of myself than others would, but this is what I see everyday.

What I don't usually see are my body's curves, my breasts that haven't quite lost their youthful perkiness, especially when tipped by slightly hardened nipples of dark rose. Perhaps I could say I am a handful. A handful here, a handful there. And just to test that, I took a handful of each breast and kneaded them softly, bring a flushed tone to the pale skin. Laughing softly once more, I gave my nipples a playful tweak and shook my head before stepping into the bathtub.

The water was delightfully warm and made me shiver slightly with a shock of pleasure. Slowly sinking into its rose-scented depths, I turned off the faucets and eased back until I was reclining most comfortably, letting the hot water and sudden silence ease away any lingering stress in my tired muscles.

I'm not sure how long I lay there, enjoying the sensations and the hazy, shapeless thoughts in my head. After a time, however, I found myself squirming slightly as if trying to make myself more comfortable. Of course, that wasn't quite it. With my eyes closed and a lazy smile on my face, I finally gave in and reached through the soapy water to touch myself again, my fingertip just grazing the little nub nestled below the dark patch of curly hair. My mouth opened to emit a whispered sound as I sank another inch into the water.

Pushing farther, my finger parted my lips, still tingling with unfulfilled desire, then swelling amplified by the warm water. With a snug little slip, my finger entered. I moaned out loud, so filled with sexual need that even this gentle caress made my heart race. Sparing no time, I pressed my fingers inside myself while my other hand massaged the hardened bud of my clitoris. In little time, my body shivered as my back arched, my breasts just peeking out of the soapy water, the bubbles clinging to my skin. I cried out with simple pleasure as my body shook with the tremors of that desired climax.

Slowly, I let myself back down into the water, riding out the waves of contented bliss with gentle, welcome trembles. Limply, I lay there in the water with a lazy smile, too delighted to care if anyone had heard my cries. Only the fear of falling asleep in that deep bathtub roused me from my thoughts. With a happy little sigh, I let the water drain and slowly got to my feet, staggering slightly from the loss of buoyancy and the weak aftereffects of my orgasm. It was all I could do to towel myself dry and stumble tiredly to my bed.

Enveloped finally in the downy soft sheets, I quickly fell asleep. Only then was I allowed to fully revisit my encounter with the beautiful stranger, who now haunted my dreams in a most pleasant fashion.

* * *

Morning dawned quickly, as the golden sun peeked through scattered, hazy clouds. I could faintly smell wet pavement through my open window, along with the scent of old wine that sometimes permeated the streets of New Orleans. With a growing breeze and sunshine, however, the aroma soon dissipated. It was invigorating being in this new place, surrounded by the new smells, the nearly muggy feeling to the air that wasn't quite uncomfortable, the fact I could wake up in December without fearing for my extremities. When all this was combined with last night's pleasures, I was in a most chipper mood when I took my morning shower and prepared to leave.

With my bags on both shoulders, I quietly closed the door and gave a furtive glance down both ends of the hallway. No one was in sight, both to my relief and disappointment. The only other occupant in the mirrored elevator was an older mustached man who could have walked out of a Mob movie. We exchanged polite nods, but nothing else.

The lobby was likewise deserted. To my New England way of thinking, this was most bizarre. Why were people not awake and getting on with the day? It was nearly 8:00 after all. The hours were just flying by. I suppose we don't leave everything behind when we take our escapist vacations.

In no time at all, I checked out of my hotel and packed myself into a taxi cab that smelled vaguely of garlic and rosemary. The driver had a strong accent I couldn't place, but he had no trouble taking me down to the area where I'd be boarding. He also very helpfully pointed out a cafe that served delicious breads and coffee. I obviously wasn't his first ship-bound tourist.

Walking down the quay, I could already see the ship. For lack of a better word, it was massive, and I was rather impressed in spite of myself. In a random moment, I had this odd vision of being one of maybe a dozen people, all on that same boat, and never running into one another. Silly, certainly, but that was my first impression.

Seeing as I had a good hour or so before my boarding time, I visited the cafe mentioned earlier. The girl at the counter could have been the cab driver's sister, considering the only differences between them was that she had hair, and he hadn't. I gave her an amused smile, ordered some coffee and a pastry, then sat outside the cafe to wait.

The rain from the night before had left an overly damp humidity in the city, which was more pronounced this close to the ocean. Shallow puddles still dotted the pavement in places, giving the long quay a just-scrubbed sort of feeling. The clouds were slowly scattering, however, leaving behind a clear blue sky that resembled those in the picture-perfect postcards sold next door.

For quite a while, I did little more than watch the people farther down the harbor who were already boarding the cruise ship while I nibbled on my pastry and sipped my coffee. By the time I was done, I had my things gathered, my papers and ID out where they needed to be, and I still had a good half hour left to kill. Waiting is not something I do very well, so I grabbed my bags and decided I may as well spend the time down where I'm supposed to be.

As soon as I started down the dock, I saw her again. I couldn't see her face, but she was holding herself just so. She was again dressed in red, though today it was a gorgeous, flowery, sleeveless sundress with a big, floppy hat to match. I could just make out the dark curls of her hair waving softly in the breeze off the water. As before, she was chatting with a small group of men who were decked out in the more masculine versions of a sundress. Their shorts were less flashy and their shirts were less clingy, but it was cruise-wear all the same.

Staying out of the mystery woman's line of site, I chose a barstool at an empty outdoor table next to one of the shops that weren't open just yet. Listening without appearing to do so, I eavesdropped on the small group's conversation with shy interest. It proved to be both boring and unenlightening, however. Two of the three men were brokers from Philadelphia, one was a used car salesman from Baton Rouge. I had apparently missed her own divulgements, which were the only ones I was interested in.

dizzylia
dizzylia
73 Followers