Caribbean Passion Ch. 11

It was dark in the mini-cinema on the Fourth Deck, since no movie was showing during the show in the Rendezvous Lounge next door. Dave Richards had laid down rules, saying that no movies should be shown during the show, so as to maximize audience size.

In the darkened auditorium, Estella straddled Pablo on the floor, her underwear strewn to one side, her T-shirt barely long enough to hide her glistening, moist labia, as her pussy was poised in the air, two inches above Pablo's throbbing eight-inch cock. His muscled torso was bare and Estella eyed his bodily hungrily. She was determined to give him a good time. Grabbing the shaft of his cock, she placed the head against the inviting entrance to her pussy.

"Wow," exclaimed Pablo. "You're a great woman, Estella."

Estella smiled. She sure was, she thought. "This is to say thank you," she said. Suddenly, she pushed down.

Pablo cried out as he felt the head of his cock plunge deep inside her wetness, the walls of her pussy soft and velvety.

Estella pulled up again, revelling in his thickness. Wow, he could go deep! She arched her back, leaning back against her hands to push up her hips. Then, grinding her clit against him, she milked his shaft, feeling her desire build from the friction. Then she returned to pumping his cock. Starting slow, she bobbed up and down. Ripping off her T-shirt, she allowed Pablo to view her small, tight, pert, perfectly rounded breasts. Pablo's hands ranged over them, cupping them, his thumbs grazing her hard, urgent nipples. She began breathing deeply, breaking a sweat as she climbed the spiral of her desire, her breath now ragged, urgent, her body demanding satisfaction. The walls of her pussy twitched in pleasure as she rode him. Leaning forward now, her hands beside his chest, she pumped fast, harder and harder, her pussy demanding release.

Pablo's breathing deepened. He was close now and could feel his balls rising, the pleasure building. He didn't want it to stop.

Estella rode on and on, losing control, her mind forgetting everything but the pleasure in her pussy. Suddenly, she let out a roar as the wave overtook her, flooding her body, flashing through her mind, as she rode the wave of ecstasy. Just then, Pablo groaned, and she felt his hot seed inside her, as he grasped her waist, pumping her hips in wild abandon. Her body bucked and she undulated her frame, the better to ride the waves to ecstasy.

Finally, the rawness of her ferocious desire quenched, she laid down on top of him. Raising her head to look at him, she watched his handsome face, his eyes half-closed in reverie, remembering the pleasure, his breath still panting. "This is for you," she said. Lowering her face to his, her eyes closed as his lips met hers.

The next day, the "SS Oceanwave" was back in Freeport, Grand Bahama Island, Bahamas. Lucia walked up to the Pursers Desk. "Good morning, Edward."

The skinny Brit smiled. "Hi."

"Thanks for the massage last night."

"No problem."

"Is the passenger manifest ready?"

"Sure, we did it yesterday. It's in your cubby hole."

"Great. I'll pick it up." Lucia walked around the back, through some glass double doors and to a narrow corridor, where a series of boxes were mounted on the wall. "SOCIAL HOSTESS" was written on one of them, with a large, dot-matrix, concertinaed paper sticking out of it. She grabbed it, then walked into the back office. Sitting at a desk, she unfolded the printout.

Chief Purser Rachel Johnson stepped out of her office. She was in uniform. "Ah, Lucia," she began. "Organising the Captain's Table?"

"Yeah," replied Lucia.

"There are three honeymoon couples with wedding packages this cruise, plus two Deluxe Package tourists."

"Oh, wow, really? Well, that's eight people already. Now I only need seven more."

"In addition, there's a CPA."

"What's that?"

"Chartered Public Accountant. I want to give him a room upgrade, plus champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries in the cabin, plus an invite to the Table. His wife is here, too."

"They might turn it down."

"Well, invite them anyway. Then you can choose however many you want else. How many do you need?"

"Fifteen altogether," Lucia replied. "The other ten will be Deck Officers."

"Right."

That evening, down on Third Deck in the Barbizon Restaurant, the Social Hostess waited outside the double doors. Lucia wore a figure-hugging little black dress, with a deep V that showed off her full breasts, while below the hip, a daring slash revealed a toned expanse of sexy thigh. With black, strappy heels, gold earrings, her beautiful Hispanic face perfectly made up and sprinkled with a touch of glitter, her hair combed back and sleek as it fell down below her shoulders, she looked incredible.

Presently, her fifteen invited guests showed up. The three just-married couples were in their twenties, the wives fun and giggly, the husbands smiling and in good humour. The CPA and his wife were in their fifties. He was in reasonably good shape for his age but his wife was slightly overweight, with short, red, curly hair. One Deluxe passengers was a twenty-five year-old businesswoman, blonde, tall, in a slightly severe-looking business suit ensemble. The other was an obviously wealthy elderly gentleman recently widowed. The remaining invitees were a mix of ages but all quality, classy people. There were no children.

"Are we all here?" smiled Lucia.

"I think so," said one of the newly-wed husbands.

"Then let's join the Captain's Table," replied Lucia.

A big "oooh" went up from the passengers. Lucia gave them her fifty-thousand kilowatt smile, turned and opened the doors. Motioning them to follow her, she walked inside. Striding purposefully up to a wide, oval table, Lucia turned back to her guests and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce to you Captain Stavros Papandreiou."

The table was next to the wall and in the middle of the long side of the table in a white officers' uniform stood the Captain. Middle-aged, slightly portly, with a shock of salt-and-pepper hair and a somewhat bushy mustache, the rather short Master of the Vessel extended his hands with a smile. "Welcome," he began. "I'm Stavros Papandreiou, Captain of this ship, the 'SS Oceanbreeze'. Welcome aboard! Please sit down and make yourselves comfortable."

The assembled guests made various noises of appreciation as Lucia pointed them to different seats around the table. To the Captain's right were eight other other officers, except for the place directly next to the Captain, which was taken by a tall, statuesque woman, forty-five, in a shimmering, silver dress, platinum pendant earrings, hair tied up in an elaborate, showy bun and a gold ring on her left hand.

"Everyone," continued the Captain. "I would like to introduce you to some of the people here. Right next to me is my wife, Helena. Next to her is Staff Captain Kostas. Next to him are my three Deck Officers. Then this is the Chief Engineer, the Staff Chief Engineer (his deputy) and the Chief Housekeeper. All of us are from Greece. Plus, this is our lovely Social Hostess, Lucia, from Brazil!"

The passengers all greeted these individuals as the Captain introduced them.

"Now, how about you tell us about yourselves," remarked the Captain.

So they did. Lucia gave a brief introduction to the Captain, who then asked polite questions. Once everyone had been introduced, the Maitre D' suddenly appeared with a microphone to address the whole restaurant. After a brief speech, the waiters came out to take the orders and the meal began.

Conversation flowed freely and Lucia found everyone was very pleasant. Then, suddenly, just as the cherries jubilee was served, she felt a change in atmosphere.

"Well," said Helena Papandreiou, the Captain's wife. "This dinner has been marvellous. This has been my first time on the ship with our new Hostess Lucia, and I must say the standard of conversation at the table has much improved over the previous hostess. Our discussion has been absolutely scintillating."

Lucia smiled.

"I agree," said the Captain, grinning as he looked at his wife. "I enjoy a woman of class."

His wife looked down at her cherries jubilee with a small smile, her silver spoon in mid-air.

"What was wrong with the old hostess?" asked the CPA, to no one in particular.

"She came from an underprivileged background," said Lucia, diplomatically.

"I think a woman of class doesn't have to do what she did," said Kostas, the Staff Captain. "She did it, though, so that just goes to show that she wasn't a woman of class." He smiled at the assembled passengers.

"Uh, OK," responded the CPA, awkwardly.

"I mean," the Staff Captain went on, "if she was that classy, she could have found another way. As it is, I can't respect a woman who makes such choices."

One of the newly-wed husbands spoke up. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? You know, was she...?" He let the rest trail off.

The Staff Captain grinned. "That kind of thing, yes."

"Oh." The husband looked at his new wife, shrugging his shoulders and smiling.

His wife responded, "Well, if she was underprivileged as much as you say, sometimes these decisions are not exactly choices."

"I agree," said the other newly-wed wife. "It can be a matter of survival."

"Well, OK," the Captain interjected. "I think perhaps she should have focused on education -- studied more, got a better job."

The second wife continued, "That's not always easy. Some hard-up people drop out."

"She couldn't have been intelligent, then," said the Staff Captain. "I certainly didn't think she had too many manners -- at least, not good enough for some events here, including this one."

The first wife interrupted. "Hard-up people don't have money to study. I don't think it's really a matter of intelligence."

The Captain gave a warning glance at the Staff Captain.

Lucia felt miffed. "Besides, doing what she did makes more money than a normal job, so perhaps she had more intelligence than most other people."

The Staff Captain's eyes flashed at her angrily.

"She could use the money to pay for her education," Lucia went on.

Kostas moved to speak, but the Captain glared at him.

"I think it's time you repaired to the bar, Kostas," suggested the Captain pointedly, looking directly at him.

The Staff Captain glanced at Lucia, then looked at the Captain, then dumped his napkin on the table in front of him. "Sure. See you later." He got up from his chair, bade farewell to the table, then left.

"Now, where were we?" smiled the Captain, reassuringly.

Later, Lucia climbed the staircase to the Rendezvous Lounge. Other than that unpleasant interlude, the Captain's Dinner had gone OK, but she had the distinct feeling that the passengers would have something to say on the comment cards this cruise. At least one of them hadn't looked happy at the end of the dinner, and maybe two or three others, too.

Marcia stood outside the door to the Lounge. She looked at Lucia. "What happened?" she asked, looking at Lucia's face.

"Whew," said Lucia. "The Captain's Dinner was eventful."

"Wow, really?"

"The Staff Captain decided to criticize Lisa in front of the whole table. The Captain told him to go to the bar."

"Is he still banging on about her? She's left already!"

"I know."

"He was the one responsible for her leaving!"

"Really?"

"He's such a hypocrite -- he's married and has had three love affairs with female passengers since he joined the ship already!"

'WHAT!"

"Sure! Men! What do you expect?"

"Huh!"

"It's always the way, hun. The one who complains the loudest is the one who does it more than anyone else. People hate what they see in others when it looks the same as what they do."

"I guess so."

"Don't forget it." Marcia smiled. "Doing the intro for the dancers again?"

"Yeah," said Lucia. "The usual!"

"Great. I'll go to tell them."

"Thanks, Marcia." She watched Marcia walk through the door and into the back room. Pablo stepped out and gave her a wave. "Hi, Pablo," she called. He smiled and went back inside.

"Hostess," said a voice, slurred.

Lucia turned and came face-to-face with the Staff Captain. He stank of alcohol, and she put up a hand to her nose to ward off the smell. "Captain Kostas -" she began.

"Listen, you cheap piece of junk," he announced. "Nobody insults me at the Captain's Table. You made me look an idiot in front of the guests."

"Well -"

"That glorified hooker who came before you deserved what she got. When I say she had no class, she had no class." He staggered a little.

"Well, I think -"

He stepped forward threateningly. Pointing his finger at her, he said, "You're not paid to think -- you're paid to do your job. She was nothing more than a cheap stripper."

"I -"

"I thought you were better than her. But maybe you're not. From what I've heard, you've been sleeping around already, so you're no better than her. You look more classy but you ain't. You're just the same as every other woman. Easy, that's what you are -- easy."

Lucia looked at him. What was he going to do?

"I know you used to be a dancer. You're sexy -- real sexy. Sexier than her. But not better. Just the same. You dancers are all the same. Just trumped-up hookers -- a cheap, gold-digging prostitute. You -"

"LEAVE HER ALONE!" said a voice, suddenly. Lucia and the Staff Captain turned. Pablo stood there, his eyes flashing with anger, his body taut, ready to pounce.

"Oh, so, who's this? Back-up?" said the Staff Captain.

"Get lost! Get away from her!"

The Staff Captain stood up, as best he could. "What! Do you know who I am?"

"I don't care! You're not talking to her like that!"

"Why, you -" Kostas attempted to lunge forward. He stumbled and lurched over.

"Pablo!" cried Lucia.

Pablo pushed Kostas back. The Staff Captain staggered, fell back against the railings of the staircase and fell on his side on the floor.

"Aargh!" cried Kostas.

Pablo stood over him. He jabbed his finger at Kostas. "Keep away from her. I'll report you for being drunk on duty. Get back to your cabin, before a passenger sees you."

"How dare -" began Kostas, then stopped. He leaned his head on the floor. "Oh, stuff it."

Pablo grabbed Lucia's hand. "Let's go, Lucia."

Lucia stared at Pablo, then joined him as they ran off together.