On Pacific Time

Gastroenteritis was alive and well on the Madre del Mar.

There was talk of a quarantine. Cleaning staff were constantly disinfecting each and every surface visible. Debate raged whether the ship should in fact turn back to Australia, head to the next closest port or keep on to New Caledonia. My own admittedly basic nautical navigational skills told me we were in a no win situation. At an equal distance from Norfolk Island, Sydney and our intended destination. Ultimately the captain had no choice but to continue on, full steam ahead as they say.

* * * * *

"Your father wants me to stay onboard," Mom admitted.

We were on our balcony sharing a bottle of red wine when she came out with the confession.

Dad was adamant about disembarking on New Caledonia and checking into a hospital or at least staying in a hotel for the duration of his illness. He'd told me himself he couldn't endure spending another night on the ship, the rolling waves compounding the nausea. The medical staff had assured all those presenting, the virus would be out of the sufferers system in a matter of days but the effects could last up to a week.

Dad's plan was to see us off after our time in New Caledonia and fly on to Vanuatu to meet back up with the cruise. Mom had been reluctant to leave him at first but he'd talked her around. She still had us with her and the ships operators had assured us the cruise wouldn't be cancelled. 'We've had this happen before!' Was a quote I heard from a senior manager which admittedly didn't fill me with much confidence as to their competency.

A day later and only hours out of New Caledonia, Brittany too became ill.

It was now officially the cruise from hell.

We gathered in Mom and Dad's suite to discuss the options and like my father, in an act of chivalry Brittany wanted me to stay onboard.

"We've paid for it, may as well make the most of it," she explained.

"Yeah but it's irrelevant, the ships line is refunding the first leg," I threw in.

"Should've been more!" Dad added.

"To be honest," Mom said, contradicting my father. "I think they're going above and beyond. It's not their fault this happened. They're offering to cover accommodation in New Caledonia and help with organizing the airfares. Not everyone on board's sick!"

Mom looked to me and carried on. "Why do you think Adrian and I haven't become ill?" She asked Brittany and my father, seated on the one sofa. "Because I drilled into him as a boy to wash his hands before eating." She took my hand as if to emphasize her lecture and I all of a sudden felt like a prop in a personal hygiene demonstration. To my surprise she didn't let go after her sermon and to be honest it grew to become uncomfortable. Not because I didn't like the contact, uncomfortable as I again began to nurture impure thoughts when my focus should have been on the wellbeing of my wife.

"Well whatever the reason this has happened, there's no way I could continue on to Vanuatu like this, not another night at sea," Dad proclaimed. He turned to Brittany. "You've only just started to feel the effects Love, you're making the right decision too."

"It'll probably be for the best," I stated. "There's the remnants of a tropical cyclone to the North, can't imagine the sea will be too friendly. So you guys are positive Mom and I should stay on the ship?"

My father and my wife answered in unison their agreement; their enthusiasm to be off the boat overwhelming.

We had two days scheduled in New Caledonia for sightseeing and optional day tours anyway. Mom mentioned the potential of them coming good before we departed but seeing how green around the proverbial gills my father looked, I doubted there'd be a miraculous cure.

* * * * *

New Caledonia was everything the guidebook said it would be and more. Picture postcard views from every angle. Dad and Brittany stayed on the ship whilst Mom and I toured the capital city Noumea. We had a lunch of the local delicacies, seafood steamed in banana leaves and went on to a French restaurant for dinner.

The second day Mom and I took a boat trip to an island and it was there she broke out the white swimsuit of my dream.

I hadn't even noticed it at first. She was wearing what I'd originally deemed to be the unflattering shorts from the day of departure. Shorts I'd come to notice didn't hide all her assets under a bushel. Light khaki in color with an offset fly which when her body was in the right position hugged her pussy mound; even, I noticed on more than one occasion the day before, formed a distinct and alluring cameltoe.

I'd taken a myriad of photos of the city and its surrounds. Having my mother pose before interesting features (to show to Brittany, I would explain) but my own nefarious reasons far outweighing the legitimate when I realized her black shirt was essentially see through. Not in every light. Only when the sun was in a certain position. By the end of the day I had more than one hundred photos of my new found obsession; the majority of which showed my bra-less muse unwittingly flaunting her body all around Noumea. But I digress; the white one-piece.

We were offered snorkels when we landed on the island and setting up our picnic under a palm tree on a white sand beach, Mom took off her flowery red shirt. What I'd assumed was a white bodysuit was in fact her swimsuit; revealed completely to me as she pulled down her shorts. If there was a god in heaven, I thanked him for my mirrored sunglasses at that moment, enabling me to ogle my newly discovered familial fantasy. Her skin like my father's was deeply tanned and as she tied her long brown hair back in a pony tail, the material of her swimsuit pulled tight over her ample breasts allowing even the small bumps on her areola to show through. And I haven't even mentioned her pussy. Yes, only a few days before I'd seen it totally naked but now it was close. An arms distance from me. The folds of her labia nestled beneath the spandex, her mound of venus begging to be kissed.

For security I'd left the camera on the tour boat but amazingly I didn't care. The beauty of my mother's body was painted for posterity in my mind. Nothing would erase these moments of sheer ocular bliss.

"How does this work?" Mom asked, fumbling with the snorkel and eye-mask.

I took it from her and turned the snorkel the correct way.

"First spit into that," I suggested to her, pointing at the eye-mask.

"What?" She laughed. "Why?"

"Trust me, it'll stop it fogging up when we're in the water."

With a smirk on her face she attempted to spit onto the glass but failed. "My mouth's too dry. Hang on," she said. Using two fingers she pushed them into her mouth all the way to the back of her throat causing her to gag. Her eyes trailed up to mine as she performed the action, stabbing her digits over her tongue as though mimicking fellatio. Releasing, she allowed a trail of saliva to flow from her lips down into the mask as I looked on mesmerised. "Ooh too much," she giggled as a pool formed in the mask, swirling it around.

Looking as if she were about to tip it out, I put up my hand. "No wait," I stated and dipped two of my own fingers into her pool of saliva. Holding my mask beneath I dripped her spit onto mine and smeared it across its surface.

"Ooh yucky!" Mom laughed.

I looked back up to her and took off my sunglasses. "I don't mind," I admitted as I stared into her smiling eyes. Mom smirked, shaking her head and we walked together toward the impossibly turquoise water.

I'd like to say we kissed in the water; that we declared each other's incestuous love and fucked under the blazing sun. But I can't. What we did do was just have a really great time. Oh of course I managed to get in positions to allow me amazing views of her body underwater; that special place between her thighs and those breasts, those beautiful breasts in her semi transparent swimsuit. But really we just enjoyed the experience. Seeing a stingray, the colorful coral and countless species of tropical fish. They were perfect moments and some of the happiest times I think I'd ever spent with my mother, including my childhood.

Oh. I forgot to mention my mom touched my cock!

I convinced her to take a ride on a jet-ski with me. Totally out of her comfort zone, I assured her she'd be safe and wearing a life vest she climbed on board behind me. I believe it was completely accidental. Her arm struggled to circle my waist with the mandatory vests separating us, and as she threw around her right arm to join, her hand went lower than the other. For comfort in my board shorts, I'd surreptitiously positioned my cock vertical and her hand managed to land directly on its underside.

There was that strange moment where nothing happened. I found it hard to fathom my mother had her palm pressed against my penis and it seemed she didn't really know what she was touching. Her hand lifted momentarily before pressing down again in a slightly different position, still on my cock and it was then she realized what indeed she'd laid her hand upon.

"Oh!" She chuckled. "Sorry." Before moving it higher to hold onto my vest.

I didn't want to make a big deal about it to save her embarrassment and immediately started the jet-ski without responding. "Hold on," I shouted, secretly hoping she'd return her hand to my hardening cock which of course didn't happen.

Her squeals of delight in my ear were enough to tell me the ride for her was thrilling but she emphasized it as we walked back to the tour boat. Wrapping both arms around my own and hugging it to her body she looked up into my face, her sunhat shading her features but not obscuring the delight in her eyes. "I've had the best day Adrian, thank you," she whispered.

I wanted to kiss her. With her undoubtedly pulling my upper arm to the softness of her breast, I felt she would have accepted the kiss as well but I refrained. We were heading back to the cruise ship. In a matter of hours, my wife and my father would disembark and we'd be alone together. A mother and son with three days in international waters. There was no need to foolishly rush things.

Brittany and my Dad left with half their luggage and we helped them check into the cruise ship organized hotel. So many faces I recognized from the cruise were joining them and when Mom and I finally boarded for our next leg, the atmosphere on the ship was entirely different. I would go as far to say, eerie.

Word spread around the ship that more than half the initial passengers we set out with had left and walking around the deck and inside hallways it was obvious. Staff had also been hit by the illness. A number of the shops were closed; an information pamphlet was dropped off to each room detailing the restaurants that would be affected and any changes in shipboard activities. A further note acknowledged the electrical and mechanical problems ailing the ship and assurances everything was being done to rectify the issues. When we finally left port in the early afternoon, our first night on vacation without our partners, Mom and I were sailing into uncharted waters.

* * * * *

New Caledonia to Vanuatu

Land slowly disappeared in the distance as we cruised into the open Pacific ocean. The wake trailing far below signifying the lengthening distance between us and our spouses.

"Well this feels weird," I admitted and Mom turned her face to me.

"What?"

"Us. Here. It's like we're vacationing together."

Mom furrowed her brow.

A lump appeared in my throat and I tried to expound. "I mean it's a bit strange; a mother and son on a cruise together."

Her mouth opened in an exaggerated look of comprehension. "Oh, I get it," she grinned. "My boy's embarrassed to be seen with his mother, is that it?"

She moved in close to me to take my cheeks in her hands, pinching them as you would a child.

"No, no, not at all," I stressed, smiling.

"Or what, you think your mother is going to cramp your style? Is that it? Hmmm." She dropped her hands down to my shirt, running them down my chest. "The other ladies might mistake us as a couple. If you were planning a romantic tryst behind Brittany's back, that might throw a spanner in the works!" She lifted my slack arms to embrace her waist and pulled her body into mine, raising her hands again to hug my neck. The feigned embrace of a couple complete, her belly pressing hard into my groin, she looked deep into my eyes. "So quickly you men forget your wives!"

The sundress she wore was thin and I could feel her underwear through the material. We'd never embraced like this, our bodies pressed together, her mouth so close to mine. I could feel myself on the verge of swelling, I felt we were seconds away from kissing.

"No Mom, I..."

Her eyes remained expectant as I fumbled over words before her expression changed from serious to mischievous. She threw her head back in laughter and allowed her body to detach from mine.

"Oh Adrian. Relax. I'm just playing with you Honey." She turned her face back to the ocean, a hand remaining on my arm as if reluctant to break the connection between us, or was I just reading too much into the situation?

"I wonder what our partners are up to right now?" She ended and again her expression changed as I noticed the faintest tinge of sadness.

* * * * *

As planned I arrived at Mom's suite just before 7pm and waited at her door after knocking. I looked left and right along the corridor and not a person was in sight. There wasn't even the hum of conversation and human presence coming from other cabins. We could've been on a ghost ship.

She opened the door a fraction before allowing it to swing fully in when she found it was me. Her hair was up in a towel and another strategically wrapped around her body. Cleavage above and bare thigh below. Her face was still red from the shower and she apologized for being late.

"I'll be five minutes I promise," she offered. "There's champagne open."

I watched her head back into the bathroom, the door not fully closing when she swung it behind her but I couldn't see anything therein.

"No problem, take your time," I stated walking through her suite. Her clothes were placed on the bed and I heard the hair drier start up as I noticed the long red dress she'd chosen to wear. Of course my eyes were drawn to the underwear along side. Shape-wear; I observed. Flesh colored high waisted panties, the Wonder Panties logo clear on the hem along with the matching bra. God, I thought. Is she going to get dressed in front of me?

I walked to the coffee table and poured myself a glass of the chilled sparkling, topping up my mother's in the process. She came back out of the bathroom and I got my answer as she hauled up her clothing in an arm and smiling headed back the way she came.

Dammit, I smiled to myself as I walked out into the pleasant evening air, the stars beginning to appear in the endless sky. As I'd noticed in the hallway, the outside of the ship was equally as quiet. Whereas previously, laughter and conversation could be heard from adjoining balconies, now only the sound of the ship plying the waves far below came to ear.

"I'm going to need some help," my mother called from inside the suite and I quickly went to her aid.

The red dress wasn't that at all. Actually a jumpsuit; sleeveless it hugged her torso immaculately, enveloping the curves of her bust, her hips and yes, her crotch. She turned as I approached and I saw her problem. She'd managed to do up the rear zip to half way up her back and as I took hold I could see the top of her underwear, mid way up her spine.

I ran a finger over the rear of her bra strap as I pulled it to its zenith before doing up a couple of buttons that cinched the collar. She wore her long brown hair up in a bun and I could smell her perfume as I completed dressing her, thinking long and hard that she'd need help getting out of it as well.

"The reservation was for seven. I guess we're going to be late," Mom commented as she sat down on the bed to put on her heels. I went to get her glass and returned with it and my own.

"I wouldn't worry about it, there's no one to take our spot!"

"Mmm I know," Mom agreed as she took her glass and sipped. "It's spooky isn't it. It's like we're the only people on board."

"I like it," I stated. "No queues for anything, there was hardly anyone at the pool earlier. We have the ship to ourselves."

"It's a shame Brittany and Graham aren't here," Mom remarked and I rebuked myself for not having thought of them in hours.

"Mom. Feel," I stated, holding out my arms to emphasize the point I was making. "That rocking. It's only going to get worse. Trust me, they are happy they're not on board!"

The staff in the restaurant were apologetic they didn't have a full crew and asked for leniency for any delays in service but we didn't notice. We were dining in one of the more upmarket of restaurants on board and were one of only four couples attending. With the drinks flowing and Mom especially enjoying the wine, avidly seeking a second bottle, the night drew on and our conversation flowed as easily as the alcohol.

The head chef visited each table when all meals had been served and the dessert taken. With a waiter in hand he asked if we'd enjoyed the meal and would like tea, coffee or something harder, mistaking us for a couple as he did so. Mom made a joke that if she drank anything else she'd burst and I noticed didn't set him straight about our actual relationship.

"You're at sea madam," the chef began in a thick French accent. "It is accepted you lose yourself. We are in international waters you see. Rules do not apply. Eat, drink, make love. We have only one life, do not lose it to regret."

It was a strange moment. I could see Mom didn't quite know how to react to this impromptu lesson in philosophy, nor did I. We declined the offer of more drinks and the talk of liquid intake must have focussed Mom's attention on the fact she hadn't visited the bathroom the entire time we'd been dining and with her increased insistence we made a move to head back.

"Why didn't you go at the restaurant?" I laughed as we waited at an elevator. Mom pushed her clutch into her lower belly and bent forward at the hip, beginning the desperation dance.

"I'm not using the pubic facilities," she explained. "After all that's happened. Also, you saw me get into this, you have to basically get undressed to pee!"

It was a good point she raised. Although sexy, the jumpsuit wasn't entirely practical when it came to functionality. It was also alluring hearing my mother talk about peeing and knowing she was in desperate need to go was beginning to turn me on.

The lights flickered in the elevator when we entered and I suddenly recalled it was the same lift Brittany and I had problems with. "Actually Mom, we should take the stairs," I suggested.

"No!" She insisted, balling a fist and placing it between her tightly squeezed legs. "They're too far away. We're here now."

I pressed the floor for my parent's suite and the doors closed as expected. The elevator only had two decks to travel. It wouldn't pick now to malfunction again, I hoped. To my mother's frustration it stopped on my deck for no reason as there was no one waiting to get in. She concentrated on finding her room key card as I hammered the close door button in sympathy and we again took off.

I think we nearly made it as the elevator went through the motion of slowing down before shuddering to a halt.

"Oh God!" My mother looked at me with wide eyes.

"It's alright," I laughed taking too much delight in her predicament. "This is what happened with Britt and I. It'll start again."

She thankfully could see the funny side and smiled before slapping my arm. "You're getting too much pleasure out of seeing me like this!" She accused and had no idea how right she was.