Loveboat

© 2023 Literocat

This was my first cruise on Sapphic's Loveboat line, and I struggled. I intended to use my lofty position to get over my youthful shyness, yet avoid the entanglements Sapphic encouraged in its all female cruises down the Eastern American coast. I'm documenting my experience in this journal as well as I can recall. I'll need the details for my trial.

Starting from the first day, I needed to own it. I'm the new captain, Kira Curk. My hundred person crew, nearly all female, learned from home office that I'm a hard ass and expected perfection — courtesy, fast response to passengers' demands even when outrageous, flawless service to them and me.

I'd heard rumors about crew hookups and lusty behavior and knew Sapphic expected me to be tolerant of PDAs and casual nudity. Of course, I would not partake in those behaviors and restrict them to casual events, not our formal dinners. Since I would not be attending the two informal dinners each evening, the restrictions would be much more lax there. Curiosity made me wonder just how loose a ship full of women would be.

Boarding in Canada overlapped the massive cargo loading of foods and supplies. The longshoremen obviously drooled over the ladies boarding in their gowns, casuals, and more risqué outfits. Had I been of the Sapphic persuasion, I'd be tempted by many attractive and appealing women. Being formally in charge, I did my initial duty and met the first hundred or so passengers with my cruise director. Sigh. So many sexy legs, tits, and camel toes — no, stop it Kira! Yes, ok, I drooled a little too — subtly.

Once all were aboard and in cabins or milling about exploring the four-deck ship, one of the smallest in our fleet, we left port Southbound. With bridge access to scores of security cameras, I switched to the two observation decks and I . . . observed. Though the women wore heavy shawls or blankets, the ones in gowns had their skirts blowing and lifting out of control. With an all female manifest, I suppose they were minimally concerned with exposing their bare legs to their hips. At least half bared their asses as they had no underclothes. If I were so inclined . . .

"Captain Curk, sir, we're expecting rough weather until we clear New York. Should we announce restrictions?" asked my beautiful first mate, Celine. The calm blue sea around us would soon be choppy. I nodded my assent. The observers clutched their shawls as they walked the deck in the increasing winds. Most had nicely trimmed, yet hairy bushes now that hair was back in style. Even those had waxed labia. If I had a dick, it would be at full attention. My first mate smiled cautiously as she dwelled on my stiff nipples. Based on her swollen camel toe, obvious in our specially tailored slacks, she would be a willing conquest — no, Kira, stop these lusty thoughts. Behave!

We cleared the rough weather in four hours, just before our first informal dinner seating. Curiosity had me watching the passengers enter the dinning room in no more than casual clothing. Dress code for passengers was 'clothing optional' everywhere except formal dinners. On these all-female cruises that was generally translated to 'nudity preferred.' Non officers were required to wear cruise color, blue and white, sheer panties only. Most passengers were in shorts or bikini bottoms, many were topless. They put on quite a show as they leaned over the buffet and filled their plates. Hundreds of enticing bare tits danced for me. Are they deliberately colliding with strangers?

I should have bedded someone before this cruise. No sex in a year has made me so horny, yet still too shy to act on my impulses. Not all were beauties, but the ones who were . . . Even my first mate tempted me with her crease-free, perfect, pear-shaped ass in her painted-on slacks. Our officers' shirts were required to be unbuttoned to our nipple lines with pushup bras for our passengers' delight. That served me well, including forcing me to show my own deep cleavage. I was never so daring in my civies.

Our cruise activities' director announced the planned activities; nightly performances or demonstrations, informal ones like nude swimming trials, skating, jogging decks, exercise classes, and monitored sun bathing. Selfies are only permitted where no unsuspecting guests can be included.

During our first formal dinner, I noted that even in formal gowns or cocktail dresses, the ladies exposed more skin than was typical. Narrow straps replaced modest bodices; drop-down collars dropped to exposed navels; loose straps easily slid off letting a toothsome tit float free. Most dresses included obscenely long slits to their hips, exposing frilly panties or neatly trimmed bushes. Nearly all enjoyed the exhibitionistic freedom Sapphic allowed, as did I.

I sighed as I wished I were bi. Perhaps after this cruise I will find a hard man to satisfy my urges. Until then, I will observe Sapphic's rules against fraternizing intimately with passengers or crew, unlike my predecessor. My, how our servers are exceptionally attractive. STOP it, Kira.

At the Captain's table, I introduced myself to my eye candy companions as I kept an eye on the naked servers in their sheer panties. One especially caught my eye with her flawless face and mid-back blond hair in a pony tail. She served us a small salad as I imagined eating her spread across our table. When she stood next to me, I pushed four fingers into her panties, ostensibly to read her nameplate. Wiggling my fingers through her required, pyramid-shaped bush, I asked, "How is the service going tonight, any problems, uh Kira?"

She angled her head in curiosity as she gently pulled away and caused her panties' waist to stretch open. "Very well, Captain. If you'll excuse me, we have little time to serve all these tables." Then, she smirked. "If I may, captain, your uniform needs adjustment." She reached out and loosened a fourth button. "There, with all the photos taken, I wouldn't want Sapphic to think our new captain was 'out of uniform'." The nerve. She was right. Now I was exposed to my nipple line and my large, rounded mounds in my frilly bra were visible. I refused to be embarrassed.

"Thank you, Kira, for saving me. We will chat later." I allowed her panties to snap back as I gave her a grim nod. Conversation was inane, but the bared, stiff nipples made it bearable. As the servers bent to clear away the salads, I noticed one had a blue jeweled butt plug in her. Surprised, I scanned the others. Several had them. Kira's was red.

Though I tried to converse with my sexy passengers, I couldn't help keeping abreast of Kira as she moved efficiently and eloquently to each table. Her shapely, well-toned legs flexed firmly; her tits swayed together from side to side; her beautiful face showed determination and confidence; her shapely ass swayed dramatically in counterpoint to her tits. My belly groaned. If only I could have her.

The next course was split pea soup with carrots, onions, and prosciuto. I looked forward to that upscale specialty as much as I hungered for Kira to serve me. She set the huge tray down and carefully, politely, served the steaming potage to passengers first. My heart raced and I sighed as I watched her. Anyone would think she enchanted me with a spell. Maybe she did.

She came to me last and as she bent extra low to let her D-cups slap my face, I turned to them by reflex to kiss them. My hand collided with the soup as I tried to cup her magnificent tits and . . . disaster. I knocked the bowl out of her hands and the potage spilled on me and into my shirt. As the hot soup filled my bra, I shouted and, knocking my chair over, I stood to brush the heat away. Kira's face twisted in horror; her tits rebounded in chaos; my shirt began to fill.

Before my second scream, Kira pulled my shirt out of my slacks then, yanked it open sending buttons flying across the table. It still burned my tits. I tried to back away from the pain, but Kira unhooked my front opening bra and drained the soup onto my slacks. My pink tits with bright red streaks swung freely as Kira wiped the still steaming soup off my bared breasts. Her beautiful face twisted and focused. She dumped my ice water onto my napkin and plastered it to my chest.

"OK, Kira. That's enough. I'll head to medical. Thanks for your help. Don't worry about it; it was my fault when I bumped your dish. Too bad abut the soup; I was looking forward to it." I winked and winced. She kept wiping each tit then, my groin. No wonder my camel toe was so warm.

"No, Captain. Your cabin is much closer. We have to get you in a cold shower immediately." We? "One more thing to check." She loosened my belt and unzipped me then quickly put her hands in my panties. "Checking the temperature in here." She was doing more than that. After brushing my pubes and exploring my vulva, she yanked my slacks to my knees as my dinner companions watched wide eyed. "Good thing I checked, captain. Clumps of potage were hiding by your pussy."

"Yes, good thing. Put the napkin in there and pull up my slacks— I think I've revealed enough." Slacks up, yet still loose, Kira pushed me along to my cabin. "I can handle it from here. Thanks for your help." She wouldn't hear of it and took my keys from my burned hands and let us in. As my shirt and bra floated to the bed, Kira removed my shoes and yanked my slacks and panties off. I do like a woman who takes charge.

"Don't argue with me; this is important. Get your sexy ass in the shower. We need to run cold water on your burns ASAP so they don't blister." Her genuine concern was all over her worried face and that touched my heart. The cold water slammed my pores closed and made me shiver. Kira gently pooled the water over my most burned areas — my neck, clavicle, and both breasts. My breaths slowed, deepened, and my eyes closed in delight under her soothing touch.

Shortly, she knelt to closely examine my vulva. Her hand cupped it; her fingers circled my labia; her tongue split it open and soothed the slightly reddened lips and clit. Moans of relief, joy, and lust escaped my mouth. When her tongue lapped my clit, I felt an outflow which flooded her beautiful face and vibrating tongue. Too distracted to worry then what that fluid was, I came again, with deep shudders, on her face. Her smile reassured me all was well; her stiff nipples told me she more than enjoyed my release.

When she rose, lapping my clit, navel, nipples, and finally my own tongue, I noticed her hand was also burned. I put it under the cold water and kissed it. She hissed and pulled away. How did I not notice her hand was burned deeper than my own flesh? "We'll have to get that to a doctor."

"In good time, my captain. Right now, I just want to be with you even under this brutal water. I dreamed of this very encounter since the first day I saw you last week — without the potage spill, of course. Imagining your naked body pressed against mine, tasting each others' tongues and nectar has brought me to orgasm at least once a night. Holding you like this in my dreams has let me sleep smiling. If that is too forward of me, I can leave you to your lavage. I pray you will order me to stay, my lovely captain."

"I will not order you to stay, yet I don't want you to leave. Though not allowed intimacy with fellow officers, I can only hope those orders don't include staff." A gentle kiss on her lips ramped up to tongue dueling passion and mutual moans. Pinching her dense nipples made her gasp and suck air from my lungs. I knelt and slid her soaked panties off. There it was, the first pussy I ever wanted to study, taste, and flood my face.

Though her labia were already swollen, my lapping them and her little man made them swell more and him stand tall. Her reactions made me dizzy. Gently, I pet her firm butt as my tongue split her lips apart. Her sweet, tart, and musky scent and flavor cleared my mind of all else. When my tongue lapped inside her, she groaned until she shuddered her release on it. Her climax triggered yet another in me. Though I fell on my ass, I clamped onto her pussy and sucked all of her essence I could. She fell to her knees and we kissed passionately, tasting each other on our faces.

Shivering from the cold, we got out and carefully dried each other. Eyes locked on each other, thinking how much we should say and the ecstacy we both felt, we fell on my bed hugging and silently speaking. My heart raced as I confessed, "Kira, I didn't notice you until our first dinner. You were so confident and seemed in charge. Your internal beauty shined brighter than your physical one — and that was a challenge.

"When you strutted away, pony tail swaying opposite your gorgeous tits, I became aware of my rapid heart beat and slowed breaths. When you came back into the room, I felt my soul pulled to you as if affected by a powerful magnet. Is that what love at first sight is? I have never felt that. Every one of your strong, long strides pulled me to you, though I didn't yet know it. You must have more experience than I, so teach me to love you every way you relish. Stay in my cabin with me so we can make the most of this cruise besides any stolen moments we might share. I hesitate to say those five big words so soon, yet I can say I love you. Will you stay with me?"

"Captain, my captain, I didn't dare dream of that. Yes, I'll stay with you discretely." Kira spent nearly every night with me. During her work breaks, she extracted my tits for sucking or fingered and ate my pussy in the freezer, storeroom, and risky, dark corners. Always dressing me to proper uniform as she stayed in nothing but her sheer panties with her captivating, added, musky scent.

One night, I found her tied to my bed naked in leather and chain restraints. Another night, she waited for me in a sex swing. She taught me things I'd never heard of, including some minor fetishes. After our experimenting, we always ended the evening hugging in bliss.

Kira was part of a revolving group of performers who put on nightly shows or demonstrations. One of those was as a luthier. She walked onto the raised stage with a violin and in her server uniform, i.e., naked, wearing sheer panties. Her beauty drew immediate applause. I had to smile.

When she sat and spread her legs under the bright house lights, she gave us all a lusty view of her plumped pussy — a much clearer view than available on the dinning room floor. Her casual display on a mixed gender cruise would have to be an adult only, strip show delight. As it was, I'm sure many of the women were fully aroused, as was I. They were free to rub their naked pussies during the show; I was not. The more her dark spot grew in her panties, the quieter the mostly naked audience became.

After the shows, Kira always snuck into my room and we shared her own arousal from performing in such a bawdy way. We grew closer, even more in love, though we were nearly chaste in public. Stolen touches, kisses, and joined hands soon were not enough. I made the mistake of thinking that women would not attract others as they attract men. Kira had several admirers, as I expected. Yet, I didn't expect her to return their affection so intensely as to fall in love with one.

When I saw them together intimately, my heart broke. Balancing my angry jealousy became impossible. When I asked for an explanation, she said she needed more than a clandestine lover. Publically displaying their affection became a need she couldn't deny. We split and she went to her new lover a week before the end of the cruise.

I watched her next luthier demo with an aching heart. Her new lover was in the front row, staring into my love's open pussy as she smiled back. At the end of the demo, Kira removed her panties and sat back down to show off her glistening labia with broad smiles. Her lover applauded louder than the audience, as I never could. Then, Kira tossed her the damp panties before bowing and leaving. I understood the restrictions she felt, yet hoped we would survive the cruise so I could ask to marry her on my ship.

And so, dear journal, I got over my youthful shyness, yet failed to avoid the entanglements of a lover. My jealousy brought me to confront Kira's lover harshly. She ended up in a hospital; I ended up in cuffs.

A month later, Kira convinced her lover to drop all charges and came back, crying, to me. "All I wanted was your love in the open. I had it with her, but it was you I loved. You handled my exhibitionism without complaint and with your now open love, will you marry me captain, my captain?"

==== 7 hr 17:30 1/17/23 ===== 2997 Words ==== 1/18 typo fixed

1/11/23 seminal image: captain of cruise ship lusts for women, but not permitted; bus girl spills hot soup on her