I Waited Twenty Years Ch. 06

My name is Lars Bach. I'm forty-six years old and for the past two months I been fuckin a pussy that I had to wait twenty years to get, but it was worth the wait. That pussy belongs to Kirsten Jensen who works on my ship. She's two years older than me and married to a good friend of mine Stein Jensen. I tried to fuck her when she was young, but she wouldn't fuck till she got real horny in her late forties.

I've been working on cruise ships since I finished college and I'm second in command of a really nice ship on the Seabourn line. I cruise for three months and spend the next three months with my wife Gro at our home in Bergen.

Kirsten is also fuckin a young stud - a twenty-four year old Lieutenant and lately she's been fuckin some of his buddies too. She kept that pussy private for twenty years but now it looks like she's taking it public. She's having a lot of fun with these young studs but she got scared when they started talking about wanting to watch a black guy do her. She asked for my help. I'm helping her and so is my new girlfriend, Joan.

I met Joan on the last cruise. She's a damn good fuck, and when I shared her with a black steward Roger, I discovered that she likes black on white as much as I do. So Joan is helping Kirsten learn about black guys so she can deal with those young studs that want to watch a black dude do her. And after a couple of lessons, Joan says all Kirsten needs is practice. Joan was having so much fun she's not getting off in Miami. She's staying on for another cruise.

Today is the last day of this cruise. We're in Miami where we'll turn around and go out on another cruise for two weeks. Unloading and loading passengers and refueling and loading supplies in just a few hours is always a lot of work. So I have a big day ahead.

And, as if I didn't have enough to do turning the ship around in Miami, I get a message to see the Captain as soon as I'm free. I told Commander Ward to take over supervising the refueling and headed off to see the Captain.

"We have a problem," the Captain said as I entered his office. "And I'm gonna dump it in your lap."

I laughed. "So what else is new?"

"I'm sorry Lars. I really am, but there's a lot at stake here. Have a seat and I'll explain."

I sat down in a comfortable leather chair across from his desk. The Captain and I are very good friends and he has a lot of confidence in my work. He pulled a file from his desk drawer, removed a picture from it, and handed it to me.

It was a distinguished, gray haired lady, elegantly dressed, posing in front of a sign reading "Seabourn Cruise Lines." At the bottom of the picture there was a label reading "Miss Sheila Nunn, Chief Financial Officer."

"You're looking at a picture of the biggest bitch in our company," the Captain said. "She's just informed me that she will be joining us on this cruise. She didn't ask, she didn't schedule, she just called an hour ago and told me to get her accommodations ready. She's on her way. I'm putting her in the Seabourn Suite."

I chuckled at how upset the Captain was. "So she's a bitch. So what's the big deal? We've had important corporate people on board before and no sweat."

"The big deal is that sometimes ship's officers have lost their jobs because they pissed her off! I've met her and she's a real bitch! She's always unhappy about something. If it's not the food then it's the service or the way her drink is mixed – always something!"

"Well," I said, "all we can do is our best. We'll just try harder!"

"I have no idea why she picked MY ship," the Captain said obviously agitated.

"Maybe she liked the sound of the name," I said laughing. "Women are like that."

"It's not funny, dammit! She's not some flighty female. She's sixty-five years old. She handles the corporate money and the CEO and the board all respect her because she's tough. I want you to transfer all your duties to Commander Ward and look after her personally. Is that clear? Anything she wants she gets!"

"Yes sir, very clear. I'll do my best sir," I said, realizing how serious, even frightened, the Captain was.

My first job was to inspect the Seabourn suite. Our hotel crew always did an excellent job but if this bitch was picky I'd better check out every detail myself. I called Kirsten to alert her. As head of Passenger Relations she would be at the top of the hit list if Miss Nunn was unhappy.

Kirsten met me at the Seabourn suite and we checked it out together. It was spotless. We ordered it stocked with our top wines, cordials, and liquors. Then we alerted the hotel manager and he passed the word down the line to his people.

"We're as ready as we can ever be for the Nun," said Kirsten laughing.

"Dammit Kirsten don't call her that," I said. "Other people will hear you and start calling her that and then she'll hear somebody say it and all hell will break loose. Always call her Miss Nunn!"

Kirsten laughed. "Sorry baby. I feel bad that you're the one who has to wine and dine the bitch but as they say 'Rank hath its privileges.'"

"It's not funny," I said and my phone buzzed in my pocket as I said it.

Kirsten heard it and said, "Your lady must have arrived."

She was here! I hurried to his office and the Captain introduced me to Miss Sheila Nunn. I had the distinct impression that he dumped her in my lap as quickly as possible. Silver grey hair, expensive designer dress, excellent figure, she stood there not smiling with a demanding look on her face.

I escorted her, and the three men carrying her luggage, to her suite and stood by silently as she inspected every inch of it in minute detail. Kirsten and I had not wasted the hour we spent checking it out ourselves.

Finally, Miss Nunn looked in the liquor cabinet and shook her head in disgust.

"I drink Aberfeldy," she said.

I immediately called Commander Ward and told him to send an officer ashore to buy a case and the older the better, wondering where the hell will he find a pricy single malt at the port of Miami. That was his problem, not mine. The Nun had heard me give the order. I caught myself thinking "NUN" and quickly made a resolution never even to think the Nun word again.

I said apologetically, "Aberfeldy is not on our regular list of high end Scotch whiskies. However, we do have Balvenie."

"Don't say Scotch whiskies, they're single malts!" She said arrogantly

"Yes mam."

"Aberfeldy should be on your list," said the Nun. "Seabourn is top of the line – no better cruise ships afloat. And Aberfeldy has a honey taste that you don't get with Balvenie"

I offered her a Macallan 12 neat and she tasted it. "It will do, I guess."

There was no other way to say it! The Nun was a bitch!

I picked up the Knob Creek.

"May I?" I asked

"Of course," she said.

But her tone of voice seemed to indicate that she viewed me as a waiter. I was a four striper, entitled to be called "Captain," even though I was not THE Captain of the ship. And she was treating me like a waiter. The bitch!

She was pissing me off! That was nothing special. According to the Captain she pissed everybody off. She sat there arrogantly looking like a queen with her exquisitely coiffured silver gray hair. She seemed to look down her nose at the world.

I looked her over as we sipped our drinks. Her figure was not bad for a sixty-five year old broad – nice tits although she dressed to minimize their size, narrow waist and good hips. But her legs were her best feature – far more shapely than I would expect for her age.

She knew her legs were good, I thought, because she's wearing three-inch heels like a much younger woman. However, she has on dark hose! I'll bet you can see some blue veins in those legs when she's naked.

Jesus! Naked? What put that thought into my head? My mind immediately flashed back to Roger, a black steward from Barbados, telling me about older ladies who tipped him big for "special service," and then that word picture he had painted flashed into my head in vivid color.

Roger had said, "It's really something to climb in the saddle and look down at a horny gray haired old lady buck naked, spreading her legs and pumping her ass."

It was impossible to avoid thinking about the Nun in exactly that position. I tried not to smile.

She was saying something and my musings almost made me miss it.

"... and when I read the senator's letter I was impressed."

Shit! What did she say? The senator's letter? What the hell did that mean? Oh shit! It's gotta be Senator Walter Barnes. He said he was gonna write a letter of recommendation for me to the company. He was big – a letter from him would have gotten to top management.

"Senator Walter Barnes?" I said haltingly.

"Yes," the Nun smiled. "You met his wife Caryl, I believe."

"Yes mam, I ... I met her."

Met her? I thought. Hell! I fucked her for the better part of a week. That was the Nun's first smile. Oh shit where is this going?

"After I read the Senator's letter, I called Caryl. We have been close friends for years. She told me that you showed her a really wonderful time when she was on board," said the Nun, again smiling.

Oh shit! I think I know where this is going.

"That's why I decided to take this particular ship. So you could show me as good a time as you showed Caryl."

The Nun was still smiling. She hadn't smiled since she got on the ship. Yeah, maybe I can be SURE where this is going.

I sat there wondering whether the Nun was gonna want to fuck, like Caryl. And if she did how the hell do I bring up the subject. I remembered Roger's comment about horny gray-haired ladies. My mind was racing. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the Nun's loud voice.

"You're not listening to me," she said angrily.

"I'm sorry Miss Nunn. I ... I ... I was thinking."

"What about?" There was anger in her voice and a frown on her face

"About ... about ... well, I was remembering Caryl."

A big, broad smile lit up her face. "When I tell Caryl that you remembered her like that, she'll be so happy. She'll be happy to realize that she left you feeling so good about her. Now Captain we need to talk frankly. Caryl said you were very discrete."

Here it comes I thought. I'm gonna find out if she wants to fuck. And if she wants to fuck I'm gonna have to fuck her – gray hair, blue veined thighs, wrinkles and all!

"Senator Barnes, you know, has to be very discrete. One mistake and his reputation could be destroyed. The National Inquirer loves to expose people like him. He pays a very high price for his discretion – Caryl said she told you that."

I immediately remembered that he dared not enjoy the young pussy he had paid for before he became famous. He jacked off a lot with Caryl tickling his balls and whispering in his ear about teenage girls. Jesus! Does the Nun know that? My God!

"But he's very thoughtful regarding Caryl," she continued. "Because he loves her deeply. If she's careful – and I mean VERY careful – then she can ... she can ... well I think you know what I mean. You showed her a very enjoyable time on this ship and she told Walter – the senator I mean – all of the details and he was very grateful to you for your services."

"Yes mam," I said. My services? Shit! I was servicing his wife for him and the bitch was wearing me out! Caryl probably told her all the lurid details.

"Don't call me 'mam' when we're alone - only when someone else is present. Call me Miss Nunn in front of others and I'll call you Captain. When we're alone I'll call you Lars and you call me Sheila or ... well, when we get to know each other better call me ... well ... call me anything you want."

As she said that she giggled. The Nun actually giggled like a teenager. No question about it, I thought, she wants to fuck! Caryl told her that I fucked her and that I was discrete and the Nun wants me to fuck her too.

I wonder if Caryl told her about that young Lieutenant? Agreeing to fuck him was NOT very discrete. Maybe Caryl didn't tell her husband about that and maybe she didn't even tell the Nun.

We sat silently for a minute, sipping our drinks. If I want to get a ship of my own there is probably no better way than keeping the CFO happy. A word from her regarding my social skills plus the senator's letter might get me that ship. A word of criticism could doom my career.

"I think I understand mam – I mean Sheila – and I'll do what I can to make this cruise as pleasant for you as I made it for Caryl. Now let me speak frankly. Not all women are the same. Some women have ... well ... shall we say different needs. You'll have to help me understand yours."

"I'll try Lars. But, well, sometimes that's very embarrassing, especially when some of your needs are a bit ... unusual, but I'll try. Perhaps tonight after dinner when we're ... well, when we're together."

I think by "together" she means when we're naked in bed. Yeah, I know that's what she means.

"But now you report back to the Captain that the bitch is happy. I'm smart enough to know Lars, that everyone calls me a bitch behind my back. And I like it because they are afraid of me and they do what I tell them to do. And the CEO and the whole board of directors like it for the same reason. I'm good at what I do!"

"Now get out of here and let me get unpacked and pick me up for dinner at eight. Formal dress!"

I hurried to the bridge. Commander Ward was taking the ship out under the Captain's careful supervision. The pilot had just left the bridge.

"No mistakes Ward, or we're all in deep shit," the Captain was saying as I entered the bridge.

"How is Miss Nunn?" the Captain asked. "Commander Ward sent Lieutenant Ryan Allen to get her scotch."

"She said don't call it 'Scotch' – call it 'single malt,'" I said.

"Jesus," the Captain said. "What else was she upset about?"

I smiled. "She's satisfied – I won't say pleased – but satisfied with everything else and she's getting unpacked now."

"I hope there's enough damn closet space," said the Captain.

I chuckled. "Well just be happy that the Nun is happy."

"Damn it Lars," the Captain shouted, "don't call her that. It might get back to the bitch."

"Well sir," I said with a chuckle, "maybe we shouldn't call her a bitch either."

"Shit," said the Captain.

"Yeah, shit," I said, "and when the Nun says shit I guess we all better squat and strain."

Finally the Captain laughed. "Do your best Lars."

"Captain, don't worry about it," I said. "I'll do my best to please her. Just like I did with that Senator and his wife. Remember both of them were very happy with my services."

Of course I didn't tell the Captain that I was gonna have to service the Nun just like I had serviced Caryl Barnes – fuck her! Fuck her a lot!

We were getting further out and the ship slowed to drop off the pilot as the pilot boat came along side. But Commander Ward did not signal for an increase in speed.

"What's up?" I asked him.

He pointed to another boat racing at top speed to catch the ship.

"That's Lieutenant Ryan Allen," Ward said, "and I hope he found her damn scotch – excuse me, her single malt. Chartering that damn boat probably cost more than all the whisky we have on board."

I watched as the boat approached and saw on the deck the young lieutenant holding what looked like a case of booze. You had to admit, I thought, that being a bitch had its advantages when you wanted to get people to do what you wanted them to do.

I called Kirsten and told her to meet me in the bar. It was nice to have Commander Ward taking care of all my responsibilities. When I arrived in the bar Kirsten had a table for us in a quiet place in the corner. She had already ordered my Knob Creek.

"The Nun is unpacking," I said.

"Then sit down and relax," Kirsten chuckled. "I saw her suitcases. Unpacking will take a long time."

"I take her to dinner at 2000 hours. Formal dress and you're invited," I said.

"You should have seen the Captain," Kirsten laughed. "He was walking in circles – literally in circles - saying over and over again 'Why MY ship, Why MY ship' and he was so pissed that everybody was afraid to say anything."

"Well," I said with a laugh, "I did find out why she picked his ship."

"Oh?" Kirsten said. "And why did she select this ship?"

"Because she's a close friend of Caryl Barnes," I said.

"Caryl Barnes? Who the hell is Caryl ..."

Her puzzled expression held for about five seconds and then she said, "Oh shit!"

"My words exactly. Oh shit!"

"The Nun said that Caryl was a close friend of hers. She said that Caryl had to be very discrete and that Caryl highly recommended me for both my discretion and my ability to guarantee an enjoyable experience at sea."

Kirsten started to laugh. "An enjoyable experience at sea? She wants to fuck! The Nun wants to fuck."

She was laughing so hard it was difficult for her to talk.

"Not so loud," I cautioned her.

Kirsten was about to break up with laughter. She kept saying, "Enjoyable experience at sea," but she kept her voice down.

"My God Lars! She's sixty-five years old! She's probably got big blue veined thighs under those dark hose. Her tits gotta look like pancakes. She's probably wrinkled all over. And she wants to fuck. Hell Lars, you probably won't be able to get it up."

"I damn well better get it up," I said. "That is, if I ever want to get a ship of my own. You're right! The Nun does want to fuck. She as much as said that straight out less than an hour after she met me."

"And she said she's got needs that are 'unusual' and that was HER word. I don't know what the hell THAT means. And the CEO and the board think she's important and one word from her and I'll never get a ship of my own."

Kirsten stopped laughing. "Well it's not fair I guess, but just in case I think you had better get it up. Caryl for sure told her you were a real stud. And when a horny bitch gets naked, take my word for it, she's likely to be real pissed if all you got to show her is a floppy dick."

Then she laughed.

Dinner was elegant. We were at the Captain's table, with all the officers in formal dress uniforms. The Captain had invited Kirsten. She was the only other lady at the table.

The Nun was wearing a stunning gown with a wide neckline showing modest cleavage. Her skin was either well made up or in very good shape – probably both. No necklace, but big diamond studs in her ears and no rings.

Our best waiters served dinner and the chef personally visited the table several times to inquire as to our desires. I had never had better. The wines were excellent and expensive. The Nun did not criticize anything but she seemed grumpy. Everyone seemed afraid they might say the wrong thing although Kirsten and I kept the conversation going.

After dessert was finished, the Captain turned to the Nun with a nervous smile.

"Did you enjoy the meal?"

"It was good," she said. "Of course it's always so difficult for a chef to cook for so many people at one time."

A polite put down, but a put down all the same. The Captain did not show any reaction. He had expected as much.

I turned to the Nun, "We have a fine dance floor and excellent musicians only one deck down, Miss Nunn. Would you like to dance and perhaps enjoy a cordial?"

A smile crossed her lips, the first that we had seen during the entire evening.

"Why yes Captain Bach. That's a wonderful idea," she said.

A look of thankful relief showed on the Captain's face and Kirsten had the audacity to wink at me secretly, as I pulled out the Nun's chair. Taking her arm I escorted her out of the dining room and down to the dance floor.

We only had three musicians but they were in rare form this evening – the music was superb and the Nun was an excellent dancer. We sipped our cordials, enjoyed the music, and danced a lot.

The Nun danced close but not inappropriately so. We enjoyed a second cordial and then a third. I think she was getting a bit tipsy. She began to giggle when I made jokes.