Guilty Pleasures Ch. 03

The ride back was the worst. Now everybody was wet and their suits clingy. And the pre-noon wind had kicked up, making for choppy waters. The main result of the choppy water was a rough ride. The main result of the rough ride was six young boobies, not getting much support from bikini tops designed to do little besides barely skirt modesty conventions, bouncing with the waves in front of me.

I pretended to want some extra sun of my own and took off my teeshirt, keeping it bundled up in my lap. I divided my time up between not staring at the three, each in turn. Well, at least I was succeeding in not making it apparent that I was staring. But it was hard. (Shut up!) Carol, and Mary too, dammit, were especially hard to keep my eyes off of in the rougher seas. Anne's lithe perfection was less susceptible to the Bounce Effect.

Back on land, I tried to make my escape for a quiet lunch and the second of the books I had brought along. It was the fourth book in an incredible space opera series. The books were mostly decades old, but I had only recently discovered them.

Alas, my quest for Honor was to be denied.

At some point, in more innocent days, when we were planning for the cruise, I had expressed enthusiasm for the on-board surfing 'simulator'. I was now to be held to my word and had to accompany the girls to try it out.

The simulator was a cushioned ramp up on the top of the stern of the boat, with a sheet of water jetting up it at the right speed so passengers could sort of surf on it, if they could keep their balance.

My daughter was pretty good, if I do say so myself. Her friends were each their own variety of scenic train wreck, but most eventually got up on their feet for at least a few seconds at a time. It should come as no surprise that the hunky young Aussie dudes who were the staff members hired for the setup gave each of the girls very careful attention. In Becca's case, a lot more attention than I was frankly comfortable with.

I am such a fucking hypocrite.

As for me... I surfed for real when I was a teenager out on Cape Hatteras most summers. I had not done it for years, and I'm not sure even Becca remembered my ever mentioning it. What I wanted to do was show off. If we had done this on day one, I would have. Big time. All it took was twenty seconds for me to realize that I still had my balance and my poise.

But I took an immediate dive. Being studly and athletic did not seem like the safe play any more. I let the board shoot out from under me instantly. Then I clowned around through the rest of my time, looking like a dumpy, dumbass dad. Needless to say, the Aussie bros were not nearly so careful in trying to educate me, and instead enjoyed watching me take dive after dive. The girls enjoyed laughing at me too. That should have felt good.

When our hour was done, all my falls gave me the excuse I needed when my spawn put her ringleader hat back on. "We are all going to the Straw Market," she announced.

"You all have fun," I replied instantly. "I have a date with the next book in my series and my bottle of Advil."

"Oh, gee, Dad! I'm sorry," Becca said, instantly concerned. "Are you that beat up? Do you need one of us to stay with you and run errands?"

"No!" I blurted hastily, only to have my daughter laugh in my face. As if any of them were going to give up their last hours ashore fetching analgesics and Margaritas for a broken down old man!

"Look, all of you," I sighed, in an attempt to regain some gravitas and authority. "We depart late this evening, seven o'clock, but don't push it, please. I do not want to have to spring for plane tickets back to Lauderdale for anybody who misses the boat."

Eyes were rolled. But note was taken. They were all good kids.

A couple off them were very, very naughty, but still good kids.

*

I collected a very large Margarita and escaped to my stateroom. I had been pretty careful about my falls, but between them and the bumpy boat ride back before lunch, I actually was stiff enough to take some Advil for real. I grabbed my book and stretched out on my bed, content with the sun I had received already that day. The air conditioning felt good.

Less than an hour later, there was a knock at my door.

Uh oh. I had the do not disturb magnet on the outside of my door, so it wasn't the cabin steward. I slid off my bed with apprehension and approached the door. What excuse had Anne or Carol come up with to duck out on the mandatory shopping and sneak back here.

How was I going to turn whichever one it was down without angering her?

A more realistic question was, was I going to find it in myself to turn her down at all?

The most realistic question was, what sexual positions were we going to fuck in?

My hand literally shook as I turned the handle and pulled open the door.

Mary.

Thank God. I was safe. "Hey, kiddo! What are you doing here? Were there not enough straws for all of you to buy?" I asked, ushering her in.

The entry was cramped, of course. There isn't a lot of room on a ship, big as they are these days. Mary brushed against me pretty hard as she entered.

Safe? Oh fuck, I might be the opposite of safe... What was she here for?

She sat tentatively on the foot of my bed. I leaned casually against the desk, about as far from her as I politely could in the what suddenly felt like a very cramped space.

"I bagged the Straw Market. It was lame, whatever the others said... and because I wanted to come talk to you,"she said, brightly. Her face clouded a little. "I wanted to thank you, and to say I'm sorry... and to say thank you."

"Um, for what, what and what?" I asked carefully.

"I want to thank you for letting us come along on your cruise. All of us, even Becca," she said seriously.

"Ha! She'd have beaten me up if I hadn't taken her," I scoffed.

"Maybe," Mary smiled. "But you deserved your vacation however you wanted it. And you included all of us. Thank you, and we paid you back by being underfoot the whole time."

"I got all the rest and relaxation I needed, Mary."

"I mean," she went on forcefully, "you seem like you tailored your time on this cruise around us, instead of getting out there during the day and finding some companionship of your own. We all know you need some. Your daughter frets all the time about it."

Great.

"I have gotten out there," I said, very, very carefully.

"Oooh, Singles Nights?" Mary said dismissively. "You shouldn't need those. You are grade A beef, Mister H. That's why I want to apologize, because having us hanging around all the time has to have cramped your style."

"Mary, I don't think..." I started, before she interrupted me again.

She leaned forward, and I was suddenly and acutely aware that she had changed clothes again before coming to see me, sort of. Now she wore the shorts she probably had had on to go shopping ashore, but she once again had on the collection of what felt like at the moment to be nothing but postage stamps and dental floss that was her morning's bikini top. My eyes went there. I couldn't help it.

"That's the other thing I want to thank you for," Mary said quietly, but with a shy smile. "For years, longer than I knew why, I've wanted you to look at me just like you are right now, Mister Howard. You look at me like you want me... finally."

My throat was dry. This was wrong... yada yada yada. I shouldn't do this, etc. I knew the drill by now, and I knew where my decision would end up. I just ran the whole sequence thoroughly mind in a heartbeat, for form's sake at this point. Guiltiness. Inappropriateness. The disaster of potentially being found out. Guiltiness. And then caving in.

Mary reached out and took my hand, pulling it toward her and placing it on one of those sweet, magnificent breasts. As my hand involuntarily closed on it, I realized it wasn't actually that huge, in absolute terms. It just seemed that way on her tiny frame.

Our lips met in a soft kiss, but then she rocked her head downward. Our lips parted, and she pressed her forehead against mine stressfully. Her handing holding mine fell away, and I sensed that mine should fall away too. I let it.

"Mary," I said softly, expectantly.

"Oh Mister Howard, this is so gooood," she sighed, forehead still pressing hard against mine. "But it's not... I mean... It's not right somehow," she said in distress, and pulled away, turning slightly from me, but not putting any distance between us either.

Finally! The last shred of my mind that still possessed human decency practically shouted in triumph. Finally, someone else understands that you are a skeeze, Clark.

"Mary, I..." I started to reassure her, ready to help her back off and save me from the brink. But she interrupted me.

"Look, I mean duh, nobody has to know. Nobody can know if we..." she said quickly, more to herself than me. "And there is nothing wrong about it for you, Mister Howard. You are a healthy man who is all alone. Divorced, no girlfriend, you can have sex with whomever you want!"

I did not have an answer for that. Not instantly. I should have, but this was not the direction I had expected her to go.

"It's just so wrong for me to do it, right?" Mary asked me, her eyes pleading for contradiction. "I mean, you are my roommate's dad! You are my dad's friend! Doesn't that make me some kind of tramp? Like I'm betraying them?" She wanted me to talk her out of this.

It took every ounce of my self-control, every tattered moral shred I still possessed to choke out, "You need to go with your instincts, Mary. This..."

"But my instincts are to jump your bones," she said quickly, almost agonizedly. "My instinct, my every desire is to give you what I can see you want in your eyes, what I've desperately wanted you to want for years!" She heaved a deep breath, "And to take what I've wanted all that time, too." Her chest heaved stressfully.

I should have been concerned that she would hyperventilate or have a panic attack. A young woman needs someone to watch out for her. But all I could do was drink in those heaving tits. Now I even knew what they felt like, the left one at least, and I wanted to feel them some more, to make them heave in better ways.

"Tell me, Mister H," she asked, "am I being a terrible person?"

"No!" I said instantly. You do not tell young women that they are terrible people. Ever. "You are being impulsive, sure," I went on, intending to guide her in the right direction. "But being impulsive is what being young is all about," I heard my voice add. "We all have desires for a reason," I went on. "If you can be safe with them, they can be a... wonderful thing."

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

I was trying to convince her to give up her astoundingly important reservations? I wasn't just giving in to sex with her, I was selling her on it! Jesus, God, I was awful!

I mean, there wasn't anything really wrong with what I said, though. And it really was important to make sure that Mary did not feel bad about herself...

I was fully aware in the moment of the astounding feat of rationalization I had performed with that last thought. New heights, and all that.

"Really, Mister Howard?" Mary asked softly, sincerely.

She had come to my cabin, loaded for bear. But when it came time to start pulling the trigger, her brain had rebelled... intelligently. Here, now, I could back her down.

"Really," was all I said. I am so horrible.

Suddenly, she relaxed, throwing doubts to the wind as only a young person can. She smiled at me in that cute, bubbly expression she has always had, and which I only now saw as being the thermonuclear come-on it had always been. "You just want to feel my boobies some more!" Mary teased.

"Yes," I said, slumping my shoulders in shame. "And that is why you can't rely on my words for advice. It's why you need to back down. Please."

Or, that is what I should have said and done.

What I did was grin, and say, "That is not remotely all I want to do."

Mary took her step back toward me, and I reached out around her waist to gather her against me. There was no doubting forehead pressed against mine now. Only that sweet little mouth lifting toward mine, pressing against it, lips sliding delicately against one another. I parted her lips with my own, and sent my tongue to explore. I felt her relax even more as I did so, slumping happily in my arms, her doubts and cares flung away.

My own doubts and shame, of course, hung around, but I was getting to be a dab hand at ignoring them. Dear Lord, Mary was hot.

I paused to suck on her tongue, when it snaked out to meet my own. But my hands slid swiftly up her back to tug at the bows tied between and below her shoulder blades. Mary groaned happily as I tugged them loose, letting the top dangle now between us. I didn't even try to restrain myself as I slid my hands around between us to clasp and squeeze those firm, generous tits. She squirmed happily in my grasping hands.

"You really did want to get your hands back on my boobies," she chortled.

"Uh huh," I ground out, then sat on the edge of my bed, pulling her toward me between my knees. Her breasts were now at my eye level, and I flipped the bikini top away, over her shoulder. I slid my hands down from covering her breasts to cupping and lifting them, not that they took much lifting, and framed her soft, dark nipples with my thumbs and forefingers. Almost desperately, I clamped my lips on first one nipple, then the other. My tongue flicked hard at her hard buds, and I bit them just hard enough to draw gasps from Mary.

"Wow, Mister Howard," she crooned, "you are good at this."

I just kept sucking hungrily, but I let my hands release her mounds and used them instead to grasp her ass in those soft khaki shorts, squeezing her rounded, yielding glutes. In an instant, I felt her hands undoing the snap and sliding down her zipper. I was too impatient to wait, and began to tug her shorts downward. They slipped easily from her hips and I shoved them toward the floor. My hands went back to her ass, and I found that she had also ditched any panties she had been wearing before.

I clutched at her bare skin even more hungrily, pulling her harder against me. My lips kept clamped upon a nipple, still sucking away, but my fingers now slid lower, cupping up under her ass and between her legs. I found a hot and rapidly dampening stretch of flesh. Mary groaned again, deeper the time, and tilted her hips back to make my reach more easy, and thus my fingers's reach more deep.

I used one hand to grab her thigh and lift it to perch her foot on the mattress beside my hip, then slid it back up her inner thigh and caressed her now wide open gates. Mary had pubes... bright, curly, but very neatly edged pubes, from a wide triangle above her mons, to a narrow strip covering her labia between her legs.

When you have the same vibrant, fiery-colored hair down below as you have atop your cute little head, why on Earth would you follow the current fashion and shave all, or almost all of it off? Smart girl.

My hand behind her stroked the base of her gates and tickled her beneath her bum, while my hand now invading from the front slid through her rapidly dampening curls and delved into her flesh. The fingertips caressed over her hood and curled up inside her, first one, and then a second.

"Fuck, you know right where to touch, don't you," grunted Mary as I stroked her deeply, dragging over the hardening ripples inside. I bit the nipple I was currently sucking, a little harder than I had previously, just as my thumb stroked her clit, front to back, for the first time. "Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh woough..." Mary groaned. I could hear her biting her lip. I pressed my face against her bust, and twisted my fingers inside her.

She collapsed against me, desperately trying to stay quiet enough to avoid embarrassing my neighbors aboard as she came.

Hopefully, they were out enjoying themselves, because Mary was not very good at being quiet.

Her writhing in joy segued into twisting herself off my hands and sitting beside me on the end of the bed. We kissed again, feverishly. She scrabbled at my shirt, popping the buttons open in a rush that threatened to be the despair of my dry cleaner.

Turns out, as I discovered after the cruise, she only tore one button free. "I need you naked, Mister H," she murmured around our locked lips. "I need you naked now." As I shrugged the unbuttoned shirt off my shoulders, she grabbed at my pants. "I want to see your cock."

By this point, the only opinion I could form on the propriety of that request was my urgent need to comply.

Mary tore open my fly, and reached into my underwear with one hand, her other tugging downward on shorts and underwear alike. I lifted my hips to help her pull them free, but she had stopped her assault, her hand full of my rock hard cock was now quietly, idly caressing it. I sank back slowly to the mattress's edge, happy to let her explore for a moment. But as I freed my wrists from the shirt, my hands snaked back to fondle her boobies once more.

"I can't believe that I am finally holding your cock," she said softly, looking downward. "It feels so perfect, just like I imagined." And with that, she hopped off the bed and moved to kneel on the cabin's thin carpet, between my knees. Her one hand held onto my cock with eager determination, while her other resumed tugging on my clothing.

I instantly lifted my hips again, and this time, she took the offered chance to tug downward briskly, leaving me in seconds as naked as her. "Looks perfect, too," she purred, smiling up at me. Without breaking eye contact, she opened her mouth, extended her tongue, flattening it to its widest, and licked me up my length.

In the coming minutes, Mary let me know in the most delicious way that she had a lot better handle on this activity than I had encountered from Anne or Carol. She licked me from every angle and direction, her hand held me just firmly enough, and she slobbered all over me gloriously. My cock was deep in her smiling little mouth, and I could feel it repeatedly dipping completely into her throat, if never quite all the way.

"Ho...oh... oh... oly Hannah," I gasped, struggling for words. "You, ah, you have managed to figure out what you are doing, Mary! I mean, wowwwoohh... umm, ungh..."

Sliding me from her mouth, but never losing eye contact, she giggled. "I've practiced... a lot. With carrots and bananas... and the real thing," she added with a throaty chuckle. "It's fun."

For a few more moments, maybe minutes, I relaxed in the happy knowledge that I did not have much to teach her. Some part of me still tried to be upset that my friends' daughter was a budding blowjob queen, but the rest of me was quite emphatic in telling it to fuck off.

She had my shaft good and soaked, and her hand jacked me smoothly, her lips pursing and rubbing around my glans now. Her tongue would flick across my tip inside her mouth now and again, or just caress it, but not continuously, and always without warning.

"Oh shi... sheesh, Mary," I grunted suddenly. "I'm going to come... real soon," I warned.

Her hand only pumped me faster, and her tongue flicked continuously now. My hips rocked hard on the edge of the bed, and my ass clenched spasmodically.

At the last moment, Mary lifted her mouth from me and smiled up broadly. With a piteous moan, I nutted, spraying her cute little face, especially her round, dimpled cheeks and button nose, with pale stickiness. It wasn't my most copious ejaculation, but it felt enormously powerful. My cum literally splashed when it hit her face, and I felt like my whole lower body was being squeezed as I let fly.

Mary's hand slowed its pumping action, but did not stop. I just sagged for a moment, while the world went blurry. Things snapped back into focus as she bent back and sucked my dripping tip clean.