Confessions expanded, Judy's story

We were snookered, despite our laughter neither of us really fancied being the entertainment for any passers-by, no unauthorised guests aboard was first and last in our brief before our run ashore so they probably meant it, Pete was sharing with six other blokes in an eight-man room in his hostel and couldn't book out or change it until the morning. He told me that first thing he'd book out and find a single room somewhere in case I was there for two nights. This seemed the most romantic thing I'd ever heard and I kissed him for longer than he'd taken to fuck me.

We found a quieter bar and sat on the pavement drinking coffee and beer until three when they closed, I took him down to the quayside by 'Lady Ygraine' and kissed him passionately, there may have been some movement of my swimsuit straps and bottom, and some hands down shorts activity as I left him with wet fingers and an erection and a promise to meet if we were in port the next night.

Back in my bunk Tilly was spark out, her head was poking out of one end of her bedspace with a hairy male leg out of the other. The bin had an empty corporate condom pack and two wads of tissue, so someone had done better than me, not that I minded, my night had been memorable by any measure.

Next morning, I was present for first muster, but only physically. Mentally I was away with the fairies. Three hours sleep and putting on an impromptu live sex show on top of a bucket of booze will do that to you. Andrea, the assistant bursar, seemed to have a hangover as bad as the rest of us and announced that the boat was in harbour for two more nights, the minor Saudi royal would be flying into Akrotiri on a private jet and would be met by the captain and first officer who would need half a dozen assistants to tend to his excellency's needs. His luggage would be delivered to the boat by truck.

The captain would fly back with his excellence and Mrs excellence, the rest would be travelling in a fleet of Mercedes limousines. By dint of being there and awake I was put on the party to travel to the airport, which had the benefit to me of meaning I was free from three in the afternoon until seven the following morning for the next two days.

At 3.15 I was in my cut-off jeans and a T shirt at the bottom of the gang plank hoping Pete was good to his word, at twenty past I had my tongue in his mouth and by half past we were in a bar with a beer for him and a coke for me.

He took me back to the hostel he was staying in and picked up his backpack then led me by the hand to a small anonymous looking hotel on the edge of the docks area, booked in for two nights and took me up to our room. We had a tiny ensuite shower and squeezed in together, although as it could barely fit one the proximity was nice but the practicality was non-existent.

Once we had the important bits clean and shiny we climbed out and lay down on the bed. I gripped the third cock I'd ever had in my mouth and sucked, my eagerness to please making up for my lack of technique. I opened up my mouth and moved my head up and down, closing my lips around the shaft, gagging when he pushed up as I descended. I pulled back, slipping it out as I warned him with a laugh, "Do that again and I'm likely to puke on you."

Neither of us wanted that, so he promised to be careful and I went back to inexpertly slobbering down his thick shaft. After a few minutes he shifted round to try and return the favour, lapping at my pussy with his tongue. The height difference made it quite uncomfortable so I lay back and let him continue. It was OK but he was as new to all this as I was and seemed to think shoving a finger in like a jack hammer was going to do it for me. I mean, like I said, it was OK and the intimacy was giving me a warm glow but it wasn't mind blowing.

I'd only ever done it missionary before, as I said, inexperienced, so I felt very 'I am woman I am strong' rolling him onto his back and grabbing a corporate condom from the pocket of my shorts. Thinking back to my PSHE lessons at school and bananas and cucumbers I rolled it down his erection, holding him by the base and leaning forward to kiss him then straddled him in what I now know is called cowgirl and sank down to fill myself entirely. It felt nice, more so when I leaned forward and allowed my clit to rub on his groin.

We stayed in that position for three or four minutes, I took my weight on my straight arms allowing him to get at my boobs, squeezing them together and pinching my nipples. I shook my head, feeling my hair flying around me. I was having sex with a good-looking guy in a hotel room on a Mediterranean island, I felt about as glamorous as it was possible to be, I sat upright, grinding on him and overcame my embarrassment to rub on my clit.

"Oh god that looks so hot, I'm going to, you know..." He bucked his hips like an untamed horse as e filled the condom, his mouth open wide in a silent cry of joy. I rubbed harder but my moment had been and gone and it wasn't going to happen.

I lay on his chest, gently kissing him on the lips and face. "That was nice" I whispered. I felt his cock deflate and slip out of my pussy, I rolled off so he could get up and disappear into the bathroom to lose the condom and clean up, he brought back a small hand towel for me. It had been better than the evening before and I told him so. "Did you erm.." he asked. I hadn't but it had still been nice. I answered that we probably needed more practice, he was only my fourth... oh what do I call him? I wasn't comfortable with 'boyfriend' I had only met him the day before and I might just be enjoying a short fling in port, 'Lover' sounded way too Mills and Boon.

In my head I settled on 'sex-partner' but knew I was never going to say it aloud.

"I've only slept with three other people up until now, only more than once with two of them. We may need to practice getting to know each other." He seemed more than happy with the idea of practicing and suggested we go out for a bit, maybe get some food, and aim to try again in a couple of hours.

I gave him a playful punch, "You working to a timetable mister lover man? Eighteen thirty, steak and chips, nineteen hundred coffee and dessert, nineteen thirty commence shagging?" He looked lost, I giggled and relented, kissing his nose I told him it sounded like a great plan.

It was a great plan, by the end of our second night we'd improved our repertoire to the point that I was close to cumming when he did and twice I was able to finish myself as he gasped his orgasm into me. We'd even got over our embarrassment and could say "cum" to each other.

'Lady Ygraine' had been on full guest setting from seven am on day three of our time in Cyprus, his excellence and his guests had flown in at half past midday and we were lined up at the base in our best uniform. It was similar to our everyday outfit of white shirt, black skirt, and court shoes but the shirt was cut lower so more cleavage showed the skirts were tighter and shorter with a greater lycra mix so you either had no knickers or a tiny thong.

It was a twenty-minute drive back to the boat, I was assigned to one of the senior guests, one of his excellence's friends rather than a hanger on, during which he downed two double vodkas. When we arrived, he reached inside his robes and pulled out two fifty US dollar notes, handing one to me and one to the driver. We bowed our heads in thanks and I followed him aboard. I took him to his cabin, opened the doors and showed him around. He handed me a second fifty as I left.

I returned to Andrea for the next set of instructions which were to dress in my corporate swimsuit and report to the main pool deck where we could sunbathe until required to serve drinks or food.

I barged into my bunk to find Tilly already changed. "How much so far?" she asked. I held up my hundred dollars with a happy smile, stripped off, squeezed into my swimsuit, and followed her up to the pool where we grabbed a couple of sun loungers. Tilly shrugged her halter top off and with a moment's hesitation I followed suit, closing my eyes, and soaking up the rays.

Our time passed like that for two more days, I found that serving drinks with my top off usually led to a healthy tip, I built up five or six hundred dollars in a couple of days. On the third day we were putting back into Piraeus, a second group of his excellence's friends were due to arrive, he and Mrs excellence and two of their friends were overnighting at a hotel in Athens then going out to Mount Olympus the next day whilst the boat went back out to sea for a party cruise, returning after two days to collect the principal guests.

We tied up alongside in the early afternoon, the excellences greeted their friends and disappeared in a pair of Rolls Royce and we started preparing for the party. A truck loaded with oysters, caviar and champagne arrived and we spent an hour restocking all the bars and fridges then the girls were released to prepare for the party. Andrea opened up the clothing store and took us into the back room where we could choose from a stack of gorgeous dresses, all looking like a million dollars. Tilly and I chose a matching pair of red low cut sheath dresses that seemed to just hang on our boobs, supported by spaghetti straps over the shoulder to a back hanging down to just above our bums.

I asked about double-sided tape to hold it on which got a laugh from Andrea, asking "Don't you want to earn any tips then?" We changed there and then, grabbing a matching clutch bag. It was only when I saw Tilly stuffing hers with corporate condoms that it all clicked. The pole dancer outfit dresses, the 'tips.'

In a faltering voice I asked "Tilly, what sort of party is this going to be?"

She looked round, bent low, her dress hanging forward and open, displaying her lightly tanned tits to the world. "The sort of party where you can make more in a night than most people make in a month or two. You'll be great. I saw you in the park with that English boy. Just be as good as you were then."

I was cold inside, not only had my roommate and other colleagues on the boat watched me having sex with Pete the first time, now I was being offered out like a hooker.

I stammered out my reaction, "N no, I'm not, I'm not doing that, no. I can't." I ran out to Andrea.

"Andrea, I'm not being, I mean I can't, it's not me. Can I do something else?"

She looked at me in surprise. "What else can you do? Can you drive the boat? Are you an engineer? Are you a chef?" I shook my head in silence. "Well, looks like there isn't anything else you can do so it's this or nothing. Well? Which is it?"

I sniffed but kept my nerve. "Nothing,"

Things moved very quickly after that, in ten minutes I was at the bottom of the gangplank with a suitcase, my stash of tips and a final cash payment which gave me a total of six hundred and fifty US dollars. I had no job, no flight home and nowhere to sleep. I was starting to feel desperate when I heard my name being shouted, to my amazement it was Pete. He ran over and I leapt on him, wrapping my arms and legs around him in a tight grip. Once I stopped kissing him I asked how he was there.

"You told me you were due back in Piraeus so I got the first boat to Athens, and I've been hanging round in the hopes you'd turn up ever since."

He took my suitcase and set off at a brisk walk, I followed, jogging the first few steps to catch up.

As we walked he explained that he'd not been able to afford much more than a room in a hostel when he arrived, he'd spent most of his money on the boat trip and was trying to find work, unfortunately so were about a million other people.

We arrived at the hostel and he booked me into the girls dormitory, eight beds in a long room with a couple of shared showers and basins in an attached bathroom. Two German girls had just checked in ahead of me making the room three quarters full, judging by the backpacks around the room.

One of them looked over and said something guttural to her friend, who agreed.

"Entschuldigung? Ich habe nicht dich gehort." I said with a smile. They looked embarrassed and repeated in English that they felt I would have trouble hitching lifts with my suitcase. They explained that if I was going to travel hitching I'd struggle with my pink roll along, I'd be much better off with a rucksack and my thin-soled deck shoes wouldn't get me far if I had to walk on some of the paths and roadsides out of town.

Their advice set me thinking, I stashed my case by my bedspace and sought out Pete.

"Can I hitch with you; I'm not expected home for another six weeks and I quite fancy looking round Europe for a bit."

He seemed more than happy to have me as a travelling companion but agreed with Dagmar and Ilse that I would be better off with a rucksack and some harder wearing shoes or boots, we wandered round town looking for an outdoor gear shop, eventually finding one where I checked out rucksacks, tents, boots, a sleeping bag, and a cotton bag liner. Fortunately, the shop had their own in-house bureau de change and I was able to pay in dollars, unfortunately I had six hundred and forty-five dollars left after I'd paid for the night's accommodation. Once I'd paid for all my new stuff I had just over four hundred left.

Pete seemed to think this was fine, we could get by on less than one hundred a week if we needed to, he had some work lined up in Italy as helper in a holiday resort, and he was sure with my background I could get something there as well. All we had to do was get to Ancona on the Adriatic coast, about halfway up.

We went back to the hostel where I repacked everything in my new rucksack, then took a trip to a shipping agent where I discovered it would cost more to send my suitcase home via DHL than a new one would cost so I offered it to the lady in the shipping office for nothing.

Finally, I changed another fifty dollars into drachma and treated Pete to a plate of moussaka and a bottle of Retsina. That was a shock, onboard we'd been exposed to some of the finest wines available, when the footballer's brother sent back the Petrus the sommelier gave some of us a masterclass in tasting with it. Retsina is not Petrus, not by a long way, but it does get you drunk, quite quickly. The second bottle may have had something to do with that though.

Staggering back, we giggled and swayed, holding onto each other for support. Two bottles of Retsina meant I was a bit less repressed than usual and asked Pete if travelling together meant we were an item and should I call him my boyfriend.

Official, we were an item. I played it cool, kissing him and saying "Yeah, makes life easier to explain to people and stuff as well." Inside I was doing cartwheels and planning my wedding, but even in my naivety I knew to keep that to myself.

Next morning, I had my new Karrimor Panther 65litre rucksack on my back, my new HiTec trail walking boots on my feet, my cut-off jeans, and a tank top. My hair was tied into a ponytail and I had a baseball cap on my head. My rucksack had a chest strap but when I snapped it together my boobs jutted out underneath it like a battering ram on a roman galley, so I went without.

We were heading north to catch a ferry to Brindisi in Italy but weren't in any particular hurry so took four days over it, stopping overnight in a couple of cheap hotels where we spent the nights drinking cheap wine and beer before shagging ourselves to oblivion. One night we used the two-man tent Pete had strapped to the outside of his pack, when we tried to have sex in the tent we found out how much space you actually need so rather than give up the idea for a night we went outside.

We were camping in a big empty field with a few olive trees growing at the far end so we rolled around under the trees, I sat on top of him and came close to cumming as he thrust into me from below, it was tantalisingly close and I felt the gentle caress of his fingers bringing me release after he'd shrunk and slipped out.

We were lying naked under an olive tree when another couple walked past, and without batting an eyelid just bade us a polite "Kalo Apogevma" -- good evening in Greek. We returned the greeting then broke out in giggles. We ran back to our tent and finished our bottle of wine before turning in, whispering "D'you think they saw us? Oh god, how embarrassing. That's twice now" from me and "Well I hope they enjoyed the show, you looked super-hot and sexy" from Pete.

I lay down in our stifling tent looking out at the stars through the open flap and wasn't entirely horrified at the thought of being watched, like Pete said, I hoped they enjoyed the show because I'd enjoyed it. And so, to sleep. I'd like to pretend I dreamed of Roman Orgies but as far as I can remember it was something about chasing sheep on a bicycle but the wheels were made of marshmallow.

We were only about fifty miles from the ferry port on the main road from Athens and soon got a lift in a very smart Mercedes. Pete tells me it was an S Class, whatever that means. The driver was an older guy on his own, grey hair, slightly receding, glasses, wrinkles around his eyes. I'd have guessed at late fifties if I was pushed. I would have guessed wrong I found later. He introduced himself as Ianni, and he was on his way to Italy where he had some businesses that he was visiting to see his managers, most were getting a bonus as he'd had a good year.

Ianni was friendly and once he found we were heading to Brindisi as well he proposed taking us as passengers in the car which would only cost about the equivalent of ten dollars each as opposed to forty as foot passengers. It also meant we could leave our bags locked in the car and not have to hump them around the boat. As a thank you we offered to buy his lunch onboard, which he refused but insisted on buying ours. Which was just as well really because our efforts to live on less than a hundred dollars a week were doing very badly, being down to around two hundred dollars between us.

Lunch turned into a three-bottle meal, most of which Pete and I drank over the course of four hours as we chatted round the table, sitting on the deck under an awning watching the islands slip past then the open sea with dolphins and porpoises jumping alongside before spotting the Italian coast rising up through the late afternoon haze.

Ianni offered to drive us to our hotel, or wherever we were staying. He knew we were a couple by now and said "You should both sit in the back if you want to you know, have a hug. Just you know, not too much, hey? I shouldn't be watching that."

It shows first how relaxed we were with him and second how pissed we were when I picked up my glass with a giggle and said, "You wouldn't be the first" followed by Pete saying, "Nor the second." Of course, after that we had to give up the details, which amused him immensely.

"And how did you feel after? Was it scary or how you say, unpleasant?" I'm sure he was turning up the dial on his Greek accent to take the sting out of what were quite intrusive and intimate questions.

I looked over to Pete and shrugged, "I wasn't too concerned. I didn't know we were on show and I'm never going to see those people again, plus I looked well hot and sexy, didn't I Pete. I said DIDN'T I PETE." Pete recovered quickly and confirmed that yes, I had looked well hot and sexy, and that while we hadn't meant to make a habit of it neither of us were shocked at it happening. Twice.

Ianni went quiet for a bit, waved, and got the bill, handing over a wad of Euros. He counted through the contents of his wallet and gave a satisfied nod of his head. Turning to us he motioned us to come close, bringing us together in a conspiratorial huddle round the table.

"I have something to propose, if you say no, I will give you one hundred euro and when we get to Brindisi you can get your bags from the car and wave goodbye and I will say I am sorry. If you say yes I will pay for your hotel, and a meal tonight in a fine restaurant and will give you two hundred Euro each."