The Not-So-Innocent Voyage Ch. 01

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Strangers meet and more on a clothing optional cruise.
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Cndrlla69
Cndrlla69
60 Followers

In this story, the role of Mandy will be played by cndrlla69, the role of Greg will be played by her anonymous Prince. We hope you enjoy our story and look forward to more of our tale. Mandy

*

Plane rides are great places to think. I tried to read, but the lull of the engines soon had my book settled in my lap and my mind drifting. I recalled the past year since my divorce. It had been difficult for me after 16 years to be on my own with three children. I never would have made it through without the support of my three best friends, Mysty, Mary, and Maggy. In grade school we had been known as the Four Emigos. We had been inseparable then and ever since.

Now, turning 40, I had the rest of my life to look forward to...alone. My friends had recognized my sadness. They had gotten together and given me an early birthday present, a ticket for a weeklong cruise in the Caribbean and a free week of Emigo babysitting services. My kids would be completely spoiled by the time I returned. I had been instructed to take nothing with me; a whole new wardrobe was awaiting me in my cabin; everything I would need would be there. I had, of course, cheated, and packed a small carry-on bag of necessities.

I had never been on a cruise. Vacations like that were commonplaces for the other three M's, but not for me. My husband and I had never been able to afford something like this. I had no idea what to expect. The one thing that I did know was that I would try to enjoy myself. Let myself go a bit. I had never done one daring thing in my life. This was my chance to try, to be a new person, to begin again.

With that determination in mind, I strapped in for our landing in Miami and was soon exiting the plane into heat that blasted my breath away. This would definitely take some getting used to. During the shuttle ride to the ship my head swiveled constantly from side to side trying to take everything in from the busy streets and shops and buildings to the swaying palm trees. When I could smell the ocean, I knew we were getting close. My first glimpse of the ship I would be sailing on for this coming week, however, took my breath away.

Gleaming white in the sun, she was gigantic! My first thought was how could anything that large actually float? Moreover, she was visibly covered with mysterious gadgets to learn about and undoubtedly filled with hidden delights to be found. I grinned at the thought of exploring, to hell with my tendency to get lost; at least here I could not get TOO lost. The edges of the ship would limit me, and there would be crew everywhere to set me back on the right path.

The sense of marvel really hit home moments later as I strolled up the gangplank into the lobby. It was amazing. I stood with my mouth gaping at all the gleaming brass fittings, the gracefully winding staircases, and the paneled ceiling stories above me. Unfortunately, as my head tipped back and I ogled, my feet continued walking. Next thing I knew I was ungracefully falling through the air. All I could think was, "Damn it you klutz, you've done it again."

Expecting to hit the solid floor one step down, I was startled to land instead on hard softness. Looking up into green eyes, I realized I had been caught in the arms of a handsome stranger. "Lord," I thought, "how embarrassing, what a first impression, but so typical." He grinned at me and set me back on my feet.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice a gentle balm on my frayed nerves.

"Um," I answered, totally tongue-tied. "Sure. Ah, I gotta go check in. Um, thanks for catching me."

"My pleasure. I think check in is that way." He pointed left toward a desk. "You may want to sit down next time you want to check out the ceilings here. That way you won't fall down," he chuckled.

"Well ha friggin' ha," I snapped at him as I turned toward the desk. "Well, he certainly isn't any knight in shining armor," I thought grumpily. "Great, first person I meet saves me, then gets snarky, and pisses me off."

The staff at the desk handled me expertly and soon I was being ushered to my cabin by a steward. I had expected to descend decks to get there: after all I thought, one person equaled small room in my mind, and small rooms are lower on these things. Instead, he led me up one of the winding staircases and down a passageway. He slid my card into the lock and stepped back for me to enter.

All I could think was "Holy Fucking Shit!" The Em's had outdone themselves. It was a large room with a single queen bed and a small separate sitting area with a table and two chairs. A door on the far wall had to lead to the bathroom. The cabin boasted a large flat screen TV and nice artwork. What drew my attention, however, was the entire wall of windows. I was drawn like a magnet to look out them. Right now all I could see was the dock, but at sea this would be wonderful, and then I noticed the private balcony. Heaven!

The steward had put down my small bag on the bed and quietly taken his leave while I had been ogling my surroundings. I looked around a bit more. Sitting on the small dresser was a basket of gourmet cookies shaped like of all things chocolate covered strawberries, my favorite! Oh yum, they certainly had made this send off fantastic. What about clothes though; I had brought very little. The dresser drawers were empty so I checked the closet. Inside I found two brand new suitcases standing side by side with my name on the luggage tags. Like a small child I clapped my hands and dragged them out into the room. Like my grown-up self, however, I was terrified to open them. Who knew what the Em's had cooked up?

A wave of exhaustion swept over me. I glanced at the papers with itineraries and information on the table. Normally, I would have been all over them, reading everything, planning. Instead, I flopped down on my back on the bed. Within minutes I was sound asleep. I might have slept until evening, but the blasting of the ship's horn, the shudder of the engines, and the unfamiliar swaying motion startled me awake.

Deciding that I'd rather be clean than hike up on deck to drink (which I rarely do anyway) and wave good-bye to people I did not know, I hopped in the shower. After the hot, steamy, refreshing goodness, I stepped out on my little balcony to towel dry my hair in the heat. This was nice, so relaxing, no one to worry about except myself. Stepping back inside, I looked back and forth between my little carry-on and the mysterious new suitcases. Still too chicken to see what they had packed, I pulled my tankini, a cover-up, flip-flops, and my trashy novel from the carry-on. Five minutes later, satisfied with my appearance, I was prepared to get lost just trying to find the pool.

I made it to my destination without having to stop anyone for directions, getting turned around, or even ending up in a restricted area. I was feeling quite proud of myself. Then I stepped out onto the deck and stopped dead in my tracks, my chin literally dropped, and I simply stared. The deck was full of naked people! There were some swimsuits here and there, but mostly nude, in the pool, at the bar, lounging on chairs. Oh my Lord, what had they gotten me into? They had this whole thing planned. I slowly began backing up. I needed to escape this, get back to my cabin, and look at the reading material I had so uncharacteristically skipped. That would teach me!

I continued backing up, not being able to take my eyes from the scene long enough to turn and flee safely. I made it into the shaded area before I backed into something. It felt like a brick wall. I cringed, knowing from the warmth emanating from it that it was no brick wall. I felt arms come around me, keeping me from falling, but also keeping me from bolting. I did the first thing that came to mind to get free. I stomped my foot down at exposed toes.

Greg

The steward took my bags and said, "Yes, sir, you're all set. Your pre-registration is complete; please remember the no-tipping policy. You can skip the line at check-in and go directly to your room or use any of the ship's facilities. Here is a brochure outlining the facilities and a map showing how to get to them and how to get to your cabin. Your cabin number is printed on the front of your key card. I apologize, but it may take as long as an hour for your luggage to get to your room. Please be careful going aboard. An amazing number of people manage to fall on a ship. Never do to hurt yourself on vacation."

I went up into the immense contraption looming alongside with curiosity and a little trepidation. I thought, "I hope Mike has not given me a wrong steer. There are lots of women around all right, but most seem to have men attached to them already. Oh well. I can enjoy the scenery, the weather, which is a hell of lot better than New York's, work on my tan, and maybe flirt. Right. You don't know how to flirt.

Hey there: the scenery is already improving. Nice ass on that woman ahead. No man with her either. Can hardly introduce myself by saying "Hi, I'm Greg. Do you know you have an amazing ass. What's your name and cabin number?" How does Mike always find a line to break the ice? Of course, Mike's girls never have too much between the ears so maybe he does just say "Nice ass. Cabin number?" What in the world is that woman doing anyway: counting the panels in the ceiling? Watch your step, sweetheart, before you fall flat on that gorgeous -- Sweet God, there she goes."

I managed to catch her before she thudded into the floor or a stanchion. "You okay," I asked.

"Um," she answered. "Sure. Ah, I gotta go check in. Um, thanks for catching me."

I thought, "Nice looking woman." What I said was, "My pleasure. I think check-in is that way," but I was searching for what to say to get her name and room number. My inner Mike teasingly blurted out, "You may want to sit down next time you want to check out the ceilings here. That way you won't fall down."

"Well ha friggin' ha," she snapped and stomped off to check in.

Rebuffed, I wandered off to the bar, ordered a beer, reviewed the pamphlet explaining the layout of the gigantic ship, and pondered the ways of womankind. "Whenever you get one into bed, she's raring to go, but first you have to play her game, and no woman will tell you the damn rules to her game. That is, if there are any rules. Maybe there are rules, but, if so, the only one I have ever been able to discover is that the rules automatically change if a man begins to understand the current set. Maybe that was what happened with Janice -- No, the divorce is over and done with. You're on holiday. Forget her. She turned out in the end to be almost as mean as that one you just stopped from breaking her neck. Never did get her name. She was attractive, interesting face, not pretty exactly, but interesting. Forget her too: obviously mean as a rattlesnake with a headache. I made a harmless joke and got an earful in return. Somewhere on this floating city there must be a woman who has a sense of humor, is reasonably pleasing to the eye, and unattached." I nursed my Pilsner Urquel and tracked unproductive thought after unproductive thought while waiting for my luggage to reach my room and the inflowing horde of passengers to unclog the passageways. Quite a few men came in for a let's-start-the-cruise-right drink as did some couples, but no women on their own. As the bar got more crowded and noisier, the more the quiet of my cabin appealed.

When I got there, my luggage had already arrived. "Service prompt and as described," I thought. "Nice digs, giant bed with room enough for three. Dream on, you idiot. Great view, or it will be once we are out to sea. Balcony. Time to start my holiday for real. First rule is: avoid ALL crazy women. OK then, what's the plan? I'll unpack, work out and shower, and then spend some time lolling by the pool. Don't want to get to the pool while the sun can still cook me, but need to get there in time to do some girl watching."

The gym on my level was well equipped and empty. I ran on the elliptical machine for thirty minutes while carefully avoiding even a glimpse at the financial channel playing on the flat screen. I was on vacation, and Wall Street could just do without me for a week. After the run, I did my full routine of free weights and stretches. Just because you are in your forties does not mean that you must turn into mush, but my age made me welcome the shower pounding warmth into my exercised body.

I am not a prude. The brochure clearly says that pool areas are "clothing optional," but, dare I admit it, I was quite shy about just stripping off my bath robe and showing myself naked in front of who knew how many female strangers. Some Master of the Universe I am! I put on flip-flops, swim trunks, and a bathrobe and headed for the pool area.

I was impressed by the skill with which the crew catered to the passengers. As I approached the pool area, two waiters appeared, each carrying a tray loaded with an absurdly large number of drinks. I stopped to let them hasten ahead of me, but they told me to go ahead, and so I did. A woman was walking backward into the passage way. I stopped, but she continued backing toward me. Actually, she was veering slightly, sometimes aiming at me and sometimes at the heavily laden waiters; she never once looked where she was going. She was an accident waiting to happen, and then she suddenly skittered back right into me, and I grabbed her to prevent a potentially dangerous tangle of broken glass, wet decks, and falling bodies with cuts and bruises on everyone. In thanks, she tried to stomp every bone in my foot to dust. Fortunately, I was quick enough on my feet (literally) to avoid spending the rest of the cruise in the hospital, but I of course had to let her go. She promptly fell down and lay there on the deck, holding her foot in pain.

I said, "Next time someone prevents you from crashing into something, maybe a thank you instead of attempted mayhem would be more appropriate. Oh my God, it's you again. Ms. Humorless Klutz. I'll let you get yourself up. Trying to help you is outright dangerous. Boys, you can work your way around her now. I suspect she's harmless while she's on the deck and has a foot in her hands. I think she's indestructible, but maybe one of you should call the ship's doctor just in case she really hurt herself, but the other should definitely call the ship's psychiatrist. It's not her foot that makes her a walking menace."

After the waiters carefully placed their trays on the deck and hurried over to her, I resumed heading toward the pool area with as dignified an air as I could muster. "Completely bat shit crazy, walking backward toward a pile of glassware," I thought.

Mandy

"Damn, damn, damn," I cursed mentally. "'Call the doctor,' indeed" my mind mumbled sarcastically, "Who is he to throw orders around anyway?" Problem was that it was a good thing his orders had been followed. The staff had taken me to the infirmary, where the doctor had cared for me quite professionally and reassured me that my foot was not broken and my ankle not sprained. But he warned me that even a mild strain and bruising might be painful for several days. He recommended that I take it easy for a day or two.

"Humph! What a first day!" I muttered internally while eating dinner alone in my cabin, my ace-wrapped foot propped on the other chair, with borrowed crutches leaning near the door in case I should need them, and pain pills on the bathroom counter. The only positive was I had now reviewed all the brochures I'd been left. "A nude cruise?" I questioned mentally. "Or, more precisely, a clothing-optional cruise? I knew my friends wanted me to come out of my shell but, really, out of even my underwear?"

It was late and my foot hurt, but I needed to do one more thing before I popped a pill and slept. The suitcases. I needed to see what had been packed for me. I hopped to the closet and laid those beautiful pieces of expensive luggage right on the floor and plopped down in front of them. Unzipping them revealed sheer see-through fabrics in a multitude of colors from white to jewel tones. Cover-ups that wouldn't cover anything, lingerie that was barely there, evening dresses that reminded me more of negligees, and shoes that ranged from jeweled flip flops to high-heeled shoes I would now not be able to wear to an insanely expensive pair of custom sneakers in neon yellow.

At first I wanted to just cry, it was too much, over the top, so not me. I got up and hopped to the bathroom to get the pills. My foot hurt, and so did my head. I needed to sleep. I looked at myself in the mirror. The M's kept telling me I wasn't who I used to be. I had grown strong over time. Maybe I had. Or maybe, for this week, I could pretend I had. After all, no one here knew me, and I had only kind of met one person, and he was a jackass who could be ignored.

I hopped to the bed with the jackass on my mind. He was cute. I had to admit it. He appeared about my age. He must work out because his body was fine. The arms that had caught me were strong and solid. His hair was black with just a touch of silver and very full and thick. Nice hair to run hands through and rumple from its carefully combed executive style. The eyes were the kind a woman could easily get lost in, a vivid green with golden flecks.

His attitude, however, spoiled the picture. He was condescending, holier than thou, stuck up. He had a comment for everything and expected his orders to be followed. Who did he think he was? Besides that, he dropped me on the deck and walked away! Well, after he had prevented me from crashing into a load of glassware, I reminded myself as I drifted off to sleep. I wondered if he had had an interesting evening.

Day 2. At Sea

I had forgotten to pull the curtains, and the early morning sun, blazing into my sleepy, blinking eyes, woke me early. I stretched like a cat, until I felt the pain in my foot and remembered yesterday. Nevertheless, I was determined to make the best of my remaining six days and arose with the dawn. I finished quickly in the bathroom and grabbed a bathing suit and a cover-up from the suitcases. I didn't even care which ones. It was like playing Russian roulette in those bags anyway.

After rewrapping my foot, I slipped into the sneakers and grabbed a sun hat and threw other poolside necessities into a bag. One good thing about heading to the pool at this hour was that it would not be a mass of naked bodies. I wouldn't be able to work out today because of my foot but maybe some swimming? Couldn't afford to get lazy.

When I entered the pool area, I knew this was the right start for me. There were few people here yet, and most of them wore something, not much, but something. I set my things down at a table in the shade and grabbed some fruit from a small breakfast bar. Sitting down I propped up my foot, pulled out my trashy novel and proceeded to read while nibbling my breakfast.

When I finally looked up, I realized it was getting quite busy around the pool. I decided to search out the lap pools the brochure listed. I gathered my things and strolled across the pool deck toward the now crowded breakfast bar. I was very careful because of both my sore foot and the many tripping hazards present.

On my way past the bar, I noticed that He was sitting there, nursing what looked like orange juice. His hair was somewhat rumpled, and he was very naked. A beautiful, equally naked, young woman with long, flowing, perfect, blonde hair sat at his side, laughing loudly, her hand resting upon his arm.

Not wanting to be caught looking and hoping not to be noticed, I hurried by. Hurrying was a mistake. I caught my unhurt foot on the leg of a chaise longue and stumbled, ending up on hands and knees and knowing I had done some damage. I got up and exited through the first door I could get to, with tears of pain and embarrassment streaming down my cheeks.

Cndrlla69
Cndrlla69
60 Followers