Alan Goes to Sea

After a last, lingering kiss, they dressed and he escorted her back to the passenger decks, where he left her.

That night's joyful activities were to be repeated daily till the end of the voyage, where they said their goodbyes. Two months later, Alan received a post card. All it said was:

'It worked. Thank you. Betty.' That should have been the end, but a few months later he went down to the passenger decks at the start of another voyage and there was Betty, now sporting a well enlarged belly below significantly bigger breasts.

"Hello Alan, I couldn't resist the chance to see you again. Not that I expect you to be interested in me very much with this lot."

"Well, it would be a new experience to get seriously friendly with a lady in your condition so, in the circumstances, I'm ready to try."

And that was the beginning of stage two of his affair with Betty, and he had great fun with her newly enlarged breasts and belly till she left the ship and, this time, goodbye really meant goodbye.

...

An interesting episode with surprising results occurred while the ship was in dock in her home port, having maintenance and repair work done before the next voyage. Alan had been required to work as one of the stand by engineers looking after the generator and domestic boiler while the shore gangs worked on the main engines, and most of his fellow engineers took leave. There were three men on this duty, and they worked shifts of twelve hours on and twenty four hours off, allowing them sensible periods of shore time. The twelve hours was a bit of a drag, but, with the cooperation of the greaser sharing the watch, it was possible to get a bit of shut eye in a quiet spot behind the switchboard.

Another crew member who would normally have been on leave was the ship's nurse. The ship's sick bay was being refurbished, and she had been tasked with supervising the work. Annabelle - known by one and all as Sister Anna, in memory of she who carried the banner - sorry, old English dirty song - was a middle aged lady of no great beauty and a somewhat buxom figure, always cheerful and much loved. She had got rid of her unfaithful and generally useless husband many years before, and made it clear there would never be another. She had gone to sea after the breakup, and stated that she'd stay in the job till they sacked her or she got buried at sea.

As there was no catering aboard, crew working by had to go ashore for meals, or bring provisions on board. Alan had to visit the sick bay for a dressing on a minor cut and, after a chat with Anna, suggested they go out for a meal together, which they did when his watch ended. They went to a local restaurant that was well known to all seamen as it provided excellent meals at very sensible prices. After they had enjoyed a good steak and shared a bottle of passable red wine, they went back to the ship, where she invited him to her cabin for a goodnight drink. They were chatting idly together when she mentioned the subject of the busy love life of the officers, especially the engineers. She was well aware of what was going on, as she supplied free condoms to most of them, the company doctor having wisely decided that avoiding nasty diseases and unwanted pregnancies was in the company's interests.

"You know, you young lads aren't very adventurous. You spend ages chasing the young totty when you'd probably have a lot more success if you cast your net a bit wider. Some of the older ladies would be much more appreciative of your attentions, and most of them could probably show you some new and original tricks."

"What sort of age had you in mind?"

"Well, say fifty-fiveish, for instance?"

"If it's not a rude question, how old are you?"

"Yes it is rude, but fifty five, since you asked."

Alan sipped his Scotch - the second that she had poured for him - and grinned at her.

"I don't suppose this is a proposition, by any chance?"

"Good gracious, fancy you thinking that, you've got a filthy mind. Mind you, now you come to mention it, it's a bit since I've had my legs spread and a nice, virile young man getting between them is an attractive thought."

She looked at the doubtful expression on his face.

"I know what you're thinking. 'Do I really want to shag a fat old bag, and if I did, will I have her pestering me every trip?' Well, yes I am a fat oldish bag, but everything works and I've never had any complaints about lack of enthusiasm. And, Alan, I want a permanent lover like I want a hole in the head. I just like sex from time to time, and if you want to take advantage of my availability when there are no likely passengers in prospect, it would be fun to oblige you."

"Sorry, Anna, You misread my face a bit. I was just thinking that it could well be entertaining to go to bed with an experienced slightly older lady, and you are great fun to be with. I must admit I did get a flashback to what I overheard my old man saying to one of his mates about a mutual friend who had got caught shagging a typist at his work. Dad's summary of the situation was "Serves him right, he shouldn't have shit on his own doorstep", and the analogy did strike me."

"Your father wasn't wrong, but you haven't got a wife to upset, and you'll just have to trust me not to be a leech on you. Anyway, there are gentlemen passengers even older than I am who are happy to keep a lady in drinks and little presents just for the sake of my company."

"In the bar, or in bed?"

"What a suggestion, I'm certainly not going to answer that."

So they happily went to bed, and, true to her word, she was a very enthusiastic lover, and by the time they went to sleep he had decided that she would certainly be added to his list of ladies he liked to shag.

...

This relationship led on to another voyage of discovery for him on a later trip.

The senior officers were asked to dine with the passengers on a regular basis, in either the first class or tourist class dining rooms, this being in the day when the classes were clearly delineated. However, they often weren't that keen, and were allowed to delegate the duties to their juniors, as long as they possessed the appropriate uniform. Alan used to enjoy this, and quite often stood in for his senior engineer, especially in the first class saloon. Although the food served in the officers mess was from the first class menu, by the time it arrived in the mess it had certainly lost some of its quality, and Alan appreciated this. Also, the passengers would often buy top class wine, and Alan enjoyed sharing this.

On one trip the table he was hosting included an older member of the British aristocracy, Lady Agnes Barkham. She was tall, slim, grey haired, rather reserved, though very pleasant in her manner, and insisted that she should be called Aggy, not Lady Agnes. She tended not talk a lot at the table, though, when she did speak, it was always cogent and often amusing. During pre lunch drinks one day, a remark was made about a middle aged couple who had just passed, pointing out that they hadn't been a couple before the voyage, but had made a rapid liaison, and that she was travelling without her husband.

"It must be something to do with the sea air, they step on board and they're at it like rabbits - that's why I wouldn't let him cross the Isle of Wight ferry on his own." This from a lady firmly grasping her husband's wrist.

Sister Anna chipped in: "You're right, I see it so often. It's as though a sea voyage is a little time out of real life, and morals go out of the window - or the porthole. Even for the crew, I've seen all sorts of goings on."

"You mean on the ship?"

"Well, apart from the officers, there's not a lot of scope, though there are enough female crew members for some interesting happenings." This with a quick wink at Alan. "But there are enough shore side affairs in various ports. The expression about having a girl in every port isn't all fiction."

At this point they were called to lunch, and the subject was dropped. After lunch Alan and Anna were leaning on the rail chatting with Aggy.

"Do you officers get individual cabins, or do you have to share?"

"There are still some older ships with shared cabins for officers, but this is relatively modern and we have quite civilised berths. If you like you could come up to my cabin and I'll get the steward to bring tea and biscuits - so you can see what high class people we are?"

Anna chipped in : "That's a bit risky, you know what happens to ladies who go to an officer's cabin. They're all the same these youngsters, testosterone running out of their ears."

"At my age I don't think I'll be at very high risk. Thank you Alan, I'd be delighted to partake of tea and a biscuit with you. Excuse me for a minute, I'll be right back."

She left them and Anna turned back to Alan.

"Well, this will be a new experience for you - she must be pushing seventy if she's a day. But, to be serious, I've chatted to her a bit and I get the impression that she could do with a bit of cheering up, and your cock did it for me, so it'll probably work for her."

"You're not seriously suggesting I should try and get her into my bunk? She wouldn't be interested at her age."

"Listen, young man, that's what you thought about me before I talked you into it, and that went all right, didn't it. There's no reason she shouldn't want sex, though you'll need to turn the charm on to talk her into it. There could be a small problem at her age. Hang on a minute."

She left him for a few minutes and came back with a tube that she slid into his hand.

"It's vaginal lubricant in case she's a bit on the dry side."

He had just slid it into his pocket when Aggy returned, and he led her off to his cabin, followed by Anna's parting sally of "Don't say I didn't warn you, My Lady"

"She's quite a character, isn't she. I get the impression that you and she are very close."

"Just good friends - that's my story and I'm sticking to it."

When they arrived at his cabin he called the steward and ordered the promised tea and biscuits, which were quickly delivered. Meanwhile she was examining his personal domain. As a junior officer his cabin was not over large, but it was well equipped with a compact shower and toilet, adequate clothes stowage, a desk with armchair and a long leather covered settee. A reel to reel tape recorder stood on the desk, a stack of recorded tapes in the bookshelf.

"We've got one of these TK5 recorders, but what do you have on the tapes?"

"Switch it on and see."

She did as he suggested, and the strains of Schubert's music emerged. A happy smile spread across her face.

"Ah! Die Forelle"

"Well, it's the Trout Quintet where I come from, we're a bit common."

"It doesn't matter what you call it, it's still lovely music. Is this typical of the music you've got?"

"Well, yes, but don't sound so surprised - we engineers aren't all a load of pleb grease monkeys, you know."

She rested her hand on his arm. "Sorry Alan, I didn't mean to sound condescending, and I assure you that most of the nobility that I mix with wouldn't know Schubert from Schoenberg and certainly wouldn't listen to either - not that I would listen to Schoenberg if I could avoid it."

"Me neither. Didn't Sir Thomas Beecham say that he'd never heard any of his music but he might have trodden in some once?"

She burst out laughing. "That sounds about right to me."

This exchange of pleasantries set the tone for the conversation, and they chatted happily for a while as they consumed the afternoon snack. Then he asked her about her personal life and about her husband. Her face clouded over, and it was some time before she was ready to reply, enough for him to realise he had raised a touchy subject.

"Sorry, Aggy, it's none of my business, I shouldn't have asked."

"I was just remembering what Anna said about a sea voyage being a little time out of real life. It has a finite life, and the probability is that we'll never meet again when it's over. I've just met you, I know little about you except that you are good company. So is this a chance for me to talk about my life, to someone who doesn't know me or my family and friends? I've never talked about my home life, it might be cathartic for me, at the risk of boring you witless."

"I doubt that. Remember, you come from a world very different from mine. I'm very happy with my life, but it would never be called privileged, as I guess yours was, and I'll happily learn a bit about how the other half lives."

"Privileged doesn't necessarily mean happy, money isn't everything, though I admit it does help to ignore some of life's less pleasant moments. Mostly I've had a pleasant life, but it was despite my marriage, not because of it. I had a lovely childhood, loving parents, big country house and estate, but I was a bit sickly when I was little and, as a result my parents employed tutors to educate me at home. This was fine, I was well taught, but I didn't get a lot of exposure to boys and I was woefully ignorant about sex - I was taught the basic mechanics, but that was all.."

"When I was eighteen Julian appeared on the scene. He owned an estate not too far from us and was well known to my father. He suggested to my father that I would be a suitable wife for him, and my father agreed. I hardly knew the man, but he was personable and a highly suitable suitor. I was hardly consulted, but I had been brought up to do as I was told, so I went along with the idea, and we were soon married. Now, Julian was a breeder, mainly of horses but also of dogs, and was very successful in both. I was to find out that, as far as he was concerned, I was merely a suitable mate to breed his children, and to grace his house with my presence. Also, as happened later, as I was highly competent with horses I took on the task of breaking in young foals, and to riding out on prospective race horses."

"In the bedroom I was to discover the truth of the man I had married. As you probably know, when a stallion is put to a mare, in the trade the word used is not mating, but covering, and when Julian came to my bed it wasn't to have sexual intercourse, to mate with me, to fuck me, if you'll excuse the expression, and certainly not to make love to me. It was to cover me, in order to breed his children, no more. He even did it in the manner of horses, he made me kneel, he pulled up my nightdress and covered me. When he was done, he returned to his room, hardly a word having been spoken. This procedure was repeated nightly until I became pregnant, then it stopped until our son was born, when he restarted till I bore him a second son. He now had an heir and a spare, and he never touched me sexually again."

"You may well imagine that this was devastating for me. I had had ideas of romantic love and dreamy physical affection, and all I got was a few painful experiences where I was valued only as a brood mare. Then I was discreetly informed that he was, in fact, homosexual, and that he had a male lover who he kept in a flat in London. Fortunately I found life as a mother and chatelaine of a beautiful house and estate very agreeable, not to mention my work with the horses. Apart from his obvious shortfall, Julian was - is - good company and since I accepted that I would never have a physical relationship with him, we get along very well. So that's my life, and you're the first person to hear about it."

Alan had listened with mounting horror to her sad story. He couldn't imagine how any man could treat a woman like that. Then he realised that she was quietly crying, the tears trickling down her cheeks. He put his arm round her and drew her head down onto his shoulder. He felt her sobbing for a few moments, then she looked up at him and smiled weakly, and he felt it was time to divert her.

"If I cried when I was little, my granny used to wipe away my tears." Which he duly did with a tissue. "Then she would give me three kisses. Close your eyes."

He kissed her gently on each closed eyelid.

"So where does the third kiss go?" she enquired.

"Just here."

His lips landed softly on hers, but this wasn't like the quick brush of the lips from his granny. Somehow the kiss lingered. It wasn't fiercely passionate, just the gentle linking of two pairs of lips, and that was when he realised that everything had changed. He was no longer having a polite chat with an upper class lady, old enough to be his grandmother. He was holding close a warm body whose age was irrelevant, and whose lips were warm and soft and responding to his touch. It seemed an age before they parted.

"Better?"

"Much."

"More?"

Yes please."

Once again their lips met, this time hers parted under his touch. He very gently brushed hers with the tip of his tongue, and felt them part a little more, so he cautiously pushed forward so that their tongues met. Then he felt her hand slide behind his head and she pulled him hard against her, and her tongue slid in between his lips, which were suddenly crushed hard together. The kiss seemed to last forever, but they finally parted.

"That's the first time a man has kissed me, I never guessed it could be like that."

Now there was little doubt left in his mind. When Sister Anna had suggested that he should take this patrician seventy year old woman to his bed, he had assumed that she was just joking. Now she was in his arms, and he guessed that she would be receptive to further advances.

"I'm going to put my hand on your breast."

She said nothing, and he cupped her breast, feeling a warm, resilient handful of flesh, encased in a soft brassière under her silky blouse. His fingers roamed over her as he gently fondled her. He heard her sharp intake of breath as he touched the tip of her nipple, which he could just discern under the thin covering, and he squeezed it between fingers and thumb, but so lightly that she only just felt it. After moving to her second breast and giving it the same treatment, with the same silent approval, he decided to make the next move.

"I'm going to go exploring under your skirt."

Again no reply. He slid his hand down across her belly until he felt the swell of her pubic mound, where he let his hand rest as his fingers pressed lightly downwards. Then down her thighs to her knees, where he passed under her skirt hem and began the slow traverse of her thigh. She was bare legged, and he could feel the firm musculation of an active woman as he rose, his palm on the top of her thigh while his fingers probed between her legs. When he reached the junction of her thighs he felt the silky material of her knickers, and his hand now enclosed her sex, his fingers deep in the wide cleft between her thighs.

She whimpered quietly at the alien touch, and he began to kiss her again. This time their kiss was fiercer as his fingers traced the shape of her vulva, pushing the slippery cloth deep into the gap, and he could sense the shaping of her inner lips. He pressed into the top of the groove and felt her body shudder as he found her clitoris, which he gently rubbed.

He ended the kiss and released the pressure on her sex. She smiled at him.

"Are you going to fuck me?"

"Fuck is an ugly word for ugly actions. I want to make love to you."

"Don't say things like that, don't pretend you're in love with me."

"I might be, but that's not what I mean. For me, making love is when two people enjoy giving each other the ultimate in physical pleasure, not just a selfish self gratification. We don't need to be in love to do that, though it's better if we like each other - and I certainly like you."

"Oh God, Alan, I think I might have fallen for you, but I'll settle for a lot of liking. So, what's next."

"I'd like to undress you. Do you think you'd like that?"

"No one has seen me naked since I was little, certainly not my husband, and I'm a bit terrified about what you'll think of this old body, but please undress me - and may I undress you?"