The Cruise

Now that I have separated and live alone, I visit my mother in Australia at least three times a year. On at least one of these visits, my mother and I go on a cruise, for although she is now in her nineties, she still loves to travel.

In 2019, my mother and I did a cruise around the Indian Ocean. We took in ports in Mauritius, Seychelles, Madagascar, and Reunion Island. It was an Italian ship, so the only person who spoke English to us on the first day was a lady from the cabin directly opposite ours. As she and her husband exited their cabin, she said good morning to us.

Two days later, we bumped into them again, leaving their cabin. This time, we spoke a few more words and discovered that she was actually English but had married when she was eighteen and had lived in Italy ever since.

They introduced themselves as Wendy and Vittorio. It turned out that this was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and the cruise was her husband's anniversary gift to her. It was evidently their first holiday in eight years, and from some other facts she let slip, I deduced she was forty-three.

Vittorio was very Italian-looking and hardly spoke English, which I found strange considering he had an English wife. My snap judgment of him was that he wasn't your typical excited, passionate Italian but rather timid and quiet. Wendy certainly made all the conversation, but he could have come across as quiet because of his poor English. Another hasty opinion I made was that Wendy was quite plain looking but with a very trim figure, dark hair and very suntanned. She looked more South American than English. I was to learn later they had a fruit and vegetable business, and every day, not out in the fields, they were in a market stall selling their goods. Hence them both being so tanned.

I bumped into them several times over the next week, and her lovely smiles had me re-evaluating my first impression that she was plain. She always seemed so pleased to see and talk with me that I started to have naughty thoughts about 'what if?' But that was ridiculous, and I just shoved those thoughts aside.

Into our second week, we had progressed from smiles and hello's to the European kiss on each cheek (Instigated by her, I got quite a shock when she reached forward and kissed me in front of her husband the first time). After that, I would take the initiative, hug her, and kiss each cheek whenever we met.

I spent my free time on the cruise writing and often skimmed through other people's stories, which I had stored on my iPad, to see how they described certain things and try to improve my writing. I read a purportedly true story about some seventy-year-old man bonking many much younger married ladies. He just went up to them and laid out what he wanted to do to them, and 90% complied. The story was quite unbelievable at the end, but it did get me thinking, as I'm approaching seventy, what Wendy would do if I approached her. You would never know if you didn't ask, I figured. But that's the problem: in this day of #MeToo, you have to be very sure of the situation before you step out of line like that.

Wendy wasn't the only lady I had my eye on. My mother and I booked a tour at every port. With only a week or so of the cruise left, we arrived in Nosy Be, Madagascar, and booked a cruise out to some Islands on a catamaran. It was a fantastic day. The first stop was at an island where we walked in the forest and saw snakes, tortoises, geckos, and, most importantly, lemurs. There was also a vibrant market where you could purchase colourful t-shirts, carvings, and touristy paraphernalia.

There were seven Polish ladies on this outing; one was a lady I had had my eye on all cruise. As we mingled, it became apparent we were both attracted to one another. But as the day wore on, I became increasingly frustrated at the language difficulties. She spoke no English, and I did not know a word of Polish.

 As you can imagine, I was extremely horny and frustrated by the end of the day when we returned to the ship. I escorted my mother to the cabin, then walked around the upper decks to allay my frustration. At the end of my walk, I ran into Wendy, walking along the corridor. She was returning from the Gym. I hugged her, kissed each cheek, and told her she looked stunning, "What a figure," I said.

 As we returned to our cabins, I kept piling on the compliments. Wendy blushed and looked embarrassed, but I saw she was enjoying the attention. When we got to our cabins, she opened her door, and I leaned over and pushed it open for her as they were heavy. As she went past me, I grabbed her bum and gave it a cheeky squeeze, and as I let the door go, I saw her husband waving hello, and she gave me a cheeky wiggle of her bum.

I turned and entered my cabin, but I wondered what would have happened if I had followed her into their cabin.

The next day, with only four days of the cruise left, I stepped out of the lift just before lunch to see our neighbours disappearing to their cabin ahead of me. I sped up to catch them and approached Wendy just as hubby opened the door. I put my hands on her shoulders and dug my thumbs into the muscles on each side of her spine. I kneaded into them, which drew a sigh of, "Oh! That's nice. I do hope that is you, Dave."

Hubby looked at me, "She loves a massage. She's been complaining about the cost of massages on the ship and the fact we can't afford them."

"Well, I've worked giving massages, so I'm happy to oblige anytime," I replied.

Vittorio motioned for me to enter with them, so I followed, still kneading Wendy's shoulders. She hesitated as we got alongside their bed and said, "It would be nice, but I really couldn't."

Vittorio immediately piped up, "Don't be silly. He's offering you a free massage. We have nothing else to do."

So, while the iron was hot, I nudged her to their bed and told her to lie face down. She was still a little reluctant, but with hubby just nodding at her to go on, she turned to me and asked if she had to remove any clothes.

I told her that it was up to her. She could leave everything on, but it's always much better on bare skin. She just turned away from me and removed her white top, which was not as big a deal as I first thought, as she had her bikini on, so I told her to take off the skirt as well. She dropped the skirt and revealed a yellow string bikini with ties at the sides. It wasn't all that brief, but it still had this old bastard's blood pumping.

 As she lay face down, I asked, "I don't suppose you have any oil?"

Vittorio says, "Yes, Wendy has some in the bathroom." He returns with two beach towels and a tall bottle with flowers visible in the body oil. He helped her to stand again, laid down the towels, and then directed her back onto the towels. I noticed she was giving him dirty looks.

I rubbed my hands together to warm them, then rubbed oil into her shoulders and massaged some knots I could feel. After about ten minutes, I asked her if it was all right, "Not too hard, is it?"

She sounded slightly surprised, "No, it's just the right pressure. You really do know how to massage. I'm sorry I doubted you."

"Not just a pretty face." Was my corny reply, and I moved down her spine, searching out tight areas and kept applying oil as it soaked in. I was having to miss the strap of her bikini bra. So I asked if we could undo it as I didn't want to get oil on it. She went to reach back, but I stopped her and said, "Just relax," and indicated to Vittorio to come and undo it, as I had oil on my hands.

My dirty mind was imagining this going further than just a massage. And I wanted to see how far Vittorio was prepared to go. He jumped up, untied the knot, and, pulling the ties from her shoulders, let them all drop onto the towel. I could see the side of her breasts. They were firm and well worth looking at. I gave him a wink and a thumbs-up, directing my gaze to her breasts.

He smiled back at me and indicated I should massage them as he backed away to the sofa. I was in no doubt now that he was happy to see the massage progress further.

When I got to the small hollows at the base of her spine, I spent some time there as I know this is always an area that is sore and that it feels bloody good if you knead out all the tension there.

I skipped her glutes, knowing it was far too soon to think about removing her bikini bottoms, and I started massaging down her legs. I lifted her feet, resting them on my shoulder, and massaged her calves. When I lay each leg back on the bed, I spread each leg about four inches wider.

Now I started back up her legs, and when I got to the crease under her ass cheeks, I called Vittorio over to undo her bikini bottom. Wendy tried to get up, saying, "I think I've had enough now."

But Vittorio was over in a flash, telling her not to be silly. He was here in the room, and it was all right. He spoke in Italian, but it was easy to get the gist of what he was saying. He undid the ties on each side, then pulled the bikini bottom from under her hips. She tried to snap her legs closed, but I was ready for this, having moved my hands down to the inside of her knees.

 I held them apart till she gave up with an annoyed groan, then started massaging up the inside of her thighs. She was tense, and with good reason, as she knew I had an excellent view of her slit standing proudly through her hairy black bush. Vittorio was still standing there beside me, indicating I should touch it. I shook my head and mouthed to him, 'Not yet, go sit down.'

I moved up onto her glutes and dug my fingers in. When I'm getting a massage, this is the area that I get the most pleasure from, so I know how to work this. And within seconds, I saw her start to relax. After a few minutes, I finished them with a thoroughly good shaking, something else I know feels sublime.

I went above her glutes and did some more work on her lower back, then down over her glutes again, giving them a little more attention, then started on her thighs, sneaking my fingers around very close to her pussy.

She would tense up when I got close but visibly relaxed when I moved down her thighs again. I motioned Vittorio over and told him to massage her bum while I went down her legs to her feet. He tried to copy what I had been doing.

Having Votorrio working on her butt, let me massage down her legs and subtly move her legs further apart. When Wendy felt hands on her feet but still felt hands kneading her butt, she came to her senses, turned and saw it was Vittorio. She gave him a blast in Italian, which I think was somewhat like, "What do you think you are doing, you dirty bugger."

He moved his hands up to her shoulders and whispered consoling words in her ear. She calmed and relaxed, so I moved back up her legs until I had my thumbs massaging just each side of her swollen pussy lips. I would dig them deep into the crease at the top of her legs, then squeeze them together, watching the pussy juice ooze out between the lips. She had given up, she just lay there, so I moved one hand onto her lower back to hold her and slipped a finger deep into her cunt.

As I moved it in and out, she lifted her head and gave Vittorio a final burst using some English mixed with Italian, "Well, you bastard, are you happy now?! You have another man feeling up your wife." And she slumped back to the bed in resignation.

Vittorio tried some more consolatory words, but she shrugged him off, so he gave up and went over and sat on the sofa again.

She lifted and turned to me, "You may as well fuck me now. All you men are the same."

I leaned beside her ear, "I don't want to fuck you. I would, however, very much like to make love to you and give you an exquisite orgasm if you would let me."

She grunted something in reply. So, I just let it be and proceeded to work on giving her some satisfaction. It took a while, but slowly as I fingered her 'G' Spot and gave her clit some attention, there was movement in her hips. I moved my other hand up to the side of her breast and tried to wriggle it under to get at a nipple. She rolled to the side and let me get to it. I gently pulled and squeezed it between my forefinger and thumb.

She liked this and squirmed her butt around as I tried to push three fingers deep inside. I took my time, one hand working between her legs, the other giving her breasts plenty of attention. Soon she was actively humping my fingers and had rolled her upper body around to give me full access to her breasts.

 "God! You have an exquisite body. You look like a Greek goddess. Fucking sexy, I will probably cum before I get anywhere near you." The words seemed to remove any last inhibitions she may have had as she moaned and increased the movements of her hips.

She was well past the point of no return, so I slid the hand from her breast, down and under her hips and lifted her onto her knees. I pulled her down till she knelt at the foot of the bed, then dropped to my knees on the floor and buried my face in her cunt. It was fantastic, really wet, and I swooned with the rich aroma of her sex.

She pushed hard back into my face, trying to get as much contact and stimulation as possible. Letting me free up both hands and reach forward to roughly grab and knead her tits. When I latched onto her nipples, she became very animated, and I could see she was about to cum.

I released one tit and, using that hand slammed two fingers deep into her cunt, head bent sideways, sucking at her clit. I started ramming my fingers in as deep as I could get them. She arched her back and came hard. She pushed back against me so hard I had to fight to stay upright. As she came down from her orgasm, I pulled her up on the bed and lay beside her. Cradling her head on my shoulder, I held her tight.

"That was fantastic. You looked divine as you came."

"But you didn't come?" she asked.

"I'll come next time. I think there are a couple more orgasms in you yet."

"No, I'm too sensitive for anymore. I'll have to bring you off by hand." And she reached down and took hold of my now semi-hard prick.

I pushed her legs apart, then cupped my hand over her mound, slipping one finger in. She tried to close her legs to stop me, saying she was far too sensitive again. But I held it there against her, unmoving, until she relaxed.

"Tell me how you wound up married in Italy."

"I was born and brought up in the East End of London. We were dirt poor. I had a tough time. I was good-looking when I was young."

"You're good-looking now," I replied. "I love it when you smile, and you have the body of a twenty-year-old."

She raised her eyebrows, but she was clearly pleased with the compliment.

"I'm not, but anyway, we had an uncle staying with us, and he would often abuse me. I hated the place."

She hesitated, then, seemingly with her thoughts in order, continued. "I met a guy when I turned eighteen, and we planned to go to Italy on holiday together. I saved like hell for six months and tried to learn Italian.

Our trip was OK initially, but after several weeks of travelling with him, I found he was as bad as most other males I had known. He just wanted me for sex. We hitchhiked down as far as Sicily, but our relationship was getting pretty tense by the time we were heading back up to Rome."

"Then, in a Cafe where we stopped for lunch one day, I got talking to the waiter, 'Vittorio'. The boyfriend got jealous, and we had a massive argument, and he stormed out. Vittorio said I could stay with him and his brother for a few days. I agreed, and I've never been back to England."

I was moving the palm of my hand around on her clit as she talked, just slowly so she hardly noticed. I also felt around gently with the finger and was encouraged when her legs relaxed and fell apart a little. "What did you mean when you asked Vittorio earlier if he was happy you were with another man now?"

"Oh! He's always been at me since early in our marriage that he wanted to watch me with someone else. It was his brother at first; evidently, they had shared all their girlfriends until I came on the scene. But with my upbringing, there was no way I was going for that. He's tried over the years with other men, but in the last ten years, I thought he had given up. Then, when we met you around the place, he started pushing me to flirt with you."

"Well, I'm bloody happy he did, as this is the best I've felt in years." And I squeezed her mound. This time, I got a little return pressure from her hips.

We talked some more, with my hand and finger getting more active. When Wendy started responding enthusiastically, I slipped another finger in and used one of the others on her ass. This got quite a good reaction, and when I bent and started sucking on her nipples, she was full-on, responding to everything I gave her.

Soon, I had her legs on my shoulders and was donkey-deep, pounding away, bringing her to her second orgasm. It was much bigger than her first, leaving her vibrating and twitching around for two minutes after I withdrew.

Vittorio came and lay beside us on the bed, and we talked a bit. I noticed she was a bit annoyed still with him still.

"You shouldn't be angry with Vittorio. I look at him and see a man who is very much in love with you."

"I don't understand why he wants to watch me with another man. It seems wrong, and he can't think much of me, that he wants me to do that," she said.

"I think you have that all wrong. When they love a woman, men want what is best for them. I think he feels he can't give you everything you deserve and gets a huge high from seeing you come. It's something exceptional to make a woman orgasm, but it's another kind of special to sit and watch her come. I've experienced this, and it's almost as good as coming yourself, and maybe for Vittorio, it's even better for him, seeing you come so hard, and a double orgasm at that."

Vittorio had been nodding in agreement as I spoke. I could see her thinking about this, and then she turned to him, said sorry, and kissed him. I said I would leave and come back later; "after the show, is that OK?" They both just nodded to me, and I got up and left. At the door, I turned to watch them for a minute. It was obvious they were about to make love. He was in the process of getting between her legs. So I let the door close gently and went to lunch.

That night, I went to the show with my mother. There were great shows on this ship, but I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't stop thinking of joining Wendy and Vittorio afterwards, and it had me getting hornier and hornier as the show went on. It's a huge theatre on this ship, right up in the bow. You can get to it from either decks 2, 3, or 4. But I've never seen anyone enter from Deck 4, as you are way up in the gods, close under the ceiling and a long way from the stage. Mum and I usually sat down on level 2, as this was a little above the level of the stage, and you could always get a seat just a couple of rows back from the front.

When Mum and I returned to the cabin after the show, I said I was going for a walk around the deck. I knew Wendy and Vittorio had also gone to the show, so I went for a little walk to give them time to get back and settle. Then, I headed down to knock on their door. Full of nerves and worried they may now have had second thoughts, I lightly knocked on the door.

Wendy answered she was in quite a sexy, sheer nighty, with nothing underneath. She went to wave me in, one arm across her breasts, which struck me as funny because you could see her dark bush between her legs. I pulled her out into the hallway, knowing that no one was there, and pulled her arm away from her tits and pinched her nipples.

"Not here, someone will come." she yelped and tried to pull away.

But I held her, "Exciting, isn't it? Someone could come around the corner and see these. I want to uncover them before we go in," I lifted her nighty clear up to her neck, exposing her.