The Pleasure Cruise Ch. 04

This is chapter four in what will now officially be a five-part series. Chapter four is a 50-50 split between the Exhibitionist and the Erotic Couplings categories. I'm posting it in the former because the latter seems to me to be mostly for "none of the above" stories and there are definite exhibitionist elements in this chapter, but exhibitionism is not the focus, so be forewarned: if you're looking for a story where a room full of people go streaking, this isn't it.

Ravenna933 edited this story (as she has done since the beginning). She also contributed some helpful ideas and suggestions that improved the story immensely. Nellskitchen also gave the story a read-through and provided valuable feedback.

*

My phone's alarm woke me with a start the next morning of my Eastern Caribbean cruise. The sleeping woman beside me swore, elbowing me hard in the ribs.

"Why the fuck is an alarm going off?" Lauren mumbled testily.

I silenced my phone. "I've got breakfast plans with Danielle."

"I'm going to sleep for another month," Lauren said wearily. "My head is pounding. Please be quiet."

She rolled over sulkily as I noticed multiple notifications on my shipboard messaging app. I quickly read them in chronological order, the first from Oliver around 2 AM:

Thanks for inviting us tonight, dude. Allison is an awesome girl. I owe you one for getting me laid tonight, so here's payback: Hannah kept talking the whole way back to the cabin about wanting to fuck you. When we finally got her into bed, she passed out right away, but you can use that information however you see fit.

Oliver wouldn't have known about Hannah and I flirting earlier in the evening, but I still appreciated him letting me know about a potential lead. He was a good guy, and I liked him, even though we had nothing in common and I didn't usually hang out with jocks.

I'd suspected he and Allison were going to fuck each other when I saw them leave the bachelorette party in each other's arms the night before, but I still smiled at reading the confirmation. The attraction in Allison's facial expression on first seeing him was obvious. Seeing them practically get it on in front of us in our cabin was also an unmistakeable sign of where the night was going, but clearly, he was into her too. I quickly messaged him back a happy acknowledgement and thank you for the intelligence, and then moved on.

The next message was from Allison and was sent at almost the same time as Oliver's message:

I wanted to say thank you to you, and I'm sending this separately to Lauren, for everything you did for me last night. I've been sulking my way through this cruise, and last night, I actually had fun showing my sister that I'm not still a child. I think I forgot somehow going into this that there were going to be two thousand other people onboard. You two reminded me that I could make my own fun if I didn't want to hang out with those bitches. I'm going to be way more fun these last two days on board, and not just because I have a cute boy to hang out with. Remind me to thank you in person for introducing me to Oliver. Hope the three of us, or four of us, can see each other again sometime.

I sent her back a quick message thanking her in return for allowing us to intrude on their party, and then expressing happiness that she'd met someone she liked.

The last message was from Lena, and had been sent some twenty minutes ago:

Hey there, stranger. Just wanted to say thank you for last night. It was the best first date sex I've EVER had in my life. I'm laying here reliving it in my mind after waking up, and it's gotten me all hot and bothered again... Brianna's asleep still, and I'm debating if I should take my vibrator into the shower. Just thought you should know.

I grinned and my cock sprung to life to thoughts of Lena laying there achingly aroused in bed in her cabin five decks down and to the rear, thinking about me. The messages continued, with the next one ten minutes later:

I guess you're still asleep. I'm so wet right now. I need to go take care of it. I'll say your name when I cum.

I quickly wrote back a message to her:

Just saw your message and it's gotten me hard laying here. It came in ten minutes ago, so I'd guess you're there right now... I bet you look so beautiful and so hot leaning against the wall in that shower trying not to make too much noise. Thinking about you too. Thanks for last night, stranger.

I waited for a few moments to see if a response would come, but nothing was forthcoming, so I forced myself quietly out of bed, erection pointing the way as I headed for the shower. Lena's scent was still present on me, and I smiled at the memories from last night before turning the shower on.

Last night had been the first night in months that I'd felt like my old self again. Sure, being on the prowl was fun, and good sex was never a bad thing, but what really made it feel right was being back together for real with my best friend. Lauren and I had played wingman for each other before over the years, though never to the balls-to-the-wall extent that she'd stood up for me last night.

I didn't have anyone else in my life that knew me like she did, understood me like she did, or was committed to making me happy like she was. She'd picked up right away that something was wrong with me from the first day, even when I hadn't known it myself. She'd spent the next few days setting aside her own needs and doing whatever it took, selflessly, to make me whole again. She'd been sad and depressed when I first saw her, and I knew she still was, but she'd set that aside to care for me. I was touched by that.

I was also very worried about her. I'd seen Lauren up and down before, but never to the extent that she was now. The energetic, outgoing highs of the past few days had corresponded with some terrible lows when we were on our own in the cabin. I perceived that she was fighting a battle inside herself with something, though what it could be, I had no idea. I didn't know how, but I was determined that somehow, in the two days we had left at sea before we parted again, that I would figure out how to break through and help her get back to herself. If I didn't get a chance to fuck Lena again, or Danielle at all, or Hannah, or anyone else, I didn't care. Lauren's mental health was now my top priority.

Just then, the door opened with a bang, and Lauren burst in, headed for the toilet, and vomited profusely. I immediately reached out of the shower, holding back her hair as she was sick, then rubbed her naked back as she curled up on the floor.

"Are you okay?" I asked, more as a courtesy than out of not knowing.

"I must be seasick," she answered.

"We're in a harbour," I pointed out. "The sea's dead calm and it's not raining anymore."

"Fine." She rolled onto her back, spread-eagled on the floor, shielding her eyes from the overhead light. "I'm hung over. I haven't been hung over like this since I was a teenager."

"You overdid it last night," I observed.

"Probably. Not like anyone cares."

"I care." I shut off the shower, grabbing a towel and stepping out of the shower into the bathroom.

"I like the view," she said, breaking into a silly grin staring up at my penis hanging limply over her head.

I ignored her, filling a bathroom glass with water. "Sit up, get some hydration in you."

She sat up carefully, legs still spread, and gingerly drank. I realized as I knelt between her legs in front of her that I could see her inner vulva in detail, soft pink folds peeking out between her cleft, her clit hidden by its hood. Despite our years of extreme closeness, I'd never seen her most intimate area in such detail before. I tried not to stare, but I still felt somehow like any of the last remaining barriers between us, whether physical or emotional, were starting to crumble.

Lauren drained the glass of water and asked for a refill, which I provided. She then finally, with my help, made it back to her feet, and leaned on me as I led her back to bed, tucking her in. I sat on the bed beside her.

"Should I be worried about you, Ms. Kovalenko?" I asked.

"No. I'm just hung over," she insisted.

"We're going to dock in Amber Cove soon. What's the plan for today?"

"Shit," she swore. "We were going to do a hike. I know how much you love hiking. It's apparently nice. But I don't think I have that in me today. I'm really sorry, Sean."

"It's okay, I don't need to go, we can just hang out here," I volunteered.

"Bullshit," she spat back. "You're going hiking. Ask Danielle if she wants to join you when you go to breakfast."

I checked my watch. "I'm already missing breakfast. You're more important."

"Get the fuck up there, Sean!" Lauren spat back angrily. "I'm fine. Really. I'll lie here until I feel better and then go lay on the beach for the day. Get your hiking boots on. I booked a taxi at the port. All you need to know is you're looking for a taxi to the Teleférico. I'm not going to be the reason you miss something amazing."

"I..."

"Don't make me feel any worse than I already do, Sean. Please. I'm a big girl. This was going to be the highlight of the cruise for you," Lauren pleaded. "I need you to go, for me if not for yourself. I can't handle feeling guilty about this."

My phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket. Are you up here? I don't see you. It was Danielle.

I made up my mind. Be right there, I wrote back.

"Okay. I trust you. I'm going for breakfast with Danielle. Are you sure you'll be okay?" I was still worried.

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Okay. I love you. I'm trusting you to tell me in the next few minutes if you change your mind."

"I will." She rolled over, facing away from me.

"Feel better."

I quickly pulled on my hiking boots, field pants, a loose-fitting work shirt, and a wide-brimmed hat along with my sunglasses, waved goodbye to Lauren's back, and headed up to the Lido.

I grabbed coffee and breakfast and then found Emily and Danielle together, seated by a window, already well into their breakfasts. The view out the window was spectacular, a hilly, rugged, green landscape overlooking a tiny cruise terminal. I didn't even know what country we were in, apart from that it was a Spanish-speaking one based on Lauren's use of the word Teleférico, which I didn't know.

"Good morning, ladies," I began.

Danielle smiled her dazzling smile. "Good morning, Sean."

Emily nodded. Her attention was preoccupied by an enormous cherry turnover.

"I apologize for being late. Lauren's got a bit of seasickness."

"No worries," Emily said. "I hope she's okay. I can check in on her later, if you think that would be a good idea."

"I think she'd appreciate that," I approved.

An awkward silence fell over the table.

"How are things with you two?" I began.

Emily and Danielle exchanged a knowing glance. "We're good," Danielle finally began. "There's a lot of ground to cover. I don't want to do it in such a public place."

"Me neither," Emily said. "But we're still best friends. Nothing's ever going to change that." She took Danielle's hand and held it up in her own for emphasis.

"I'll look forward to hearing the story," I said. "What did you get up to in Grand Turk?"

"Let's say that's part of the story," Danielle said. "I'll fill you in today when we get some time. How about you?"

"We went snorkelling," I said. I proceeded to share the vague outline of our day, telling about snorkelling in Grand Turk and helping Allison cheat at the bachelorette party, but leaving out my sleeping with Lena and Oliver's sleeping with Allison. I knew Emily had liked Oliver, and I didn't want to ruin his potential chances with her by saying too much.

"Sounds like a great day," Danielle finally commented once I'd finished.

"It was," I agreed. "I'd been so stressed out with work stuff lately. I needed this holiday. I'm feeling so much more like myself, and it was great to get up to no good last night."

"I'm happy for you," she said, eying me. I momentarily lost myself in her deep, soulful brown eyes, burrowing into me with empathy and trust. I suddenly felt guilty for railing a former sorority girl less than eight hours previously, then I caught myself, mentally reminding myself that both these girls were already in relationships with other guys. We didn't owe each other anything.

"So, what are you and Lauren doing today?" Emily asked.

"We were supposed to go hiking somewhere. All I know is to go get a taxi to the Teleférico, and then go from there." I gestured at my hiking clothes. "But Lauren's gotten sick and can't come. Do you want to come with me?" I asked Danielle. I then turned to Emily. "With your permission first. I'm not taking her away from you if you have other plans."

"You have my permission," Emily smiled. "This is actually perfect. Danielle's the outdoors person out of the two of us, and she was complaining last night that we hadn't seen anything except beaches and ocean on this cruise. Go hiking. I'd love another beach day."

"Will you be okay by yourself?" Danielle asked.

"I won't be by myself," Emily insisted. "We've made lots of friends this week. I'll find someone to hang out with."

"Okay, let's do it," Danielle said, smiling. "Let's go for a hike."

We finished breakfast, then headed down to the girls' cabin so Danielle could change into hiking gear. As she changed in the bathroom and Emily puttered around the room, I pulled out my phone, which had been buzzing over breakfast.

God, I needed that. I just had two orgasms in the shower thinking about fucking you, stranger, Lena wrote. I can't wait to do it again for real.

Suddenly feeling guilty again, I closed the app, grateful for the fact that it wouldn't work today away from the shipboard wifi.

Danielle emerged from the bathroom moments later, wearing well-loved hiking boots, black leggings, a baby blue spandex workout shirt, and a Cincinnati Reds ballcap. She had a Camelbak water-carrying backpack on, its telltale hose sticking out and clipped to her shoulder strap. There were oversize sunglasses hanging from her shirt's neckline.

"Camelbak is full, since I don't know if we can drink the water in the Dominican. I'm so glad I'm going to have a reason to have brought all this gear," she said happily.

"If you're not going to be a Blue Jays fan, I'm glad you're at least a fan of a terrible NL team," I responded.

Danielle made a face. "You're one to talk, Toronto. It's not like you've won anything recently either."

"I was in the stands for Jose Bautista's bat flip in 2015," I volunteered. "When was the last time the Reds did anything memorable?

Danielle sighed. "One of these years, the Reds will win the World Series when I'm alive to see it."

I thought back to watching the 1990 World Series with my Dad when I was a kid, remembering how dominant Jose Rijo was for the Reds that year en route to a championship, and I forced myself to put thoughts of our age difference out of my mind.

We left the room and made our way down through the ship to the gangway, then disembarked down onto the dock in a new country. A large sign welcomed us to Amber Cove, Dominican Republic.

"Lauren booked the whole trip," I admitted. "I didn't even know what country this was."

"Amber Cove is just a cruise port," Danielle said as we walked through a familiar mix of duty-free shops, souvenir shops, and an excursion desk. "The cruise lines want you to only spend your money with them, so the ships tend to dock in the middle of nowhere to a gated community where everything you see is owned by the same company that owns the ship."

"I thought this was your first cruise," I remembered.

"It is, but I really try to be an ethical tourist," she responded. "I researched all this before we left. I'm trying to make sure money I spend on the cruise goes into the hands of local people as much as possible."

"That's admirable," I said, genuinely impressed.

"Thanks," she said, as we neared the fence separating the cruise terminal from a highway. A motley collection of cabdrivers and local tour operators were parked outside, waiting for clients, and a big sign sat just before the exit, essentially telling us that the cruise line could not guarantee our safety if we left their clutches.

"The nearest town is Puerto Plata," Danielle said, looking at a map on her phone. "We're on the north coast of the island, and the town's a few miles down the road."

We found the cab with a driver holding a "Lauren" sign, and Danielle, speaking Spanish, asked the driver to take us to the Teleférico. I looked at her, impressed. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"I don't, not really," she responded. "Just what I learned in school."

"We learn French in Canada," I pointed out. "I never had the chance to learn any Spanish. Do you know what a Teleférico is?"

"Cable car." Danielle grinned.

"I don't know what that is in French, but I'd guess it's similar," I said. "Sounds cool!"

It took us about fifteen minutes on treacherous highways to reach the outskirts of Puerto Plata. I considered myself a good driver. I'd driven in right-hand and left-hand drive countries. But the Dominican was the first country I'd been to where people appeared to drive on both. The lanes were mere suggestions to the locals, cars weaved through traffic with reckless abandon, and more than once on the short journey, I worried for our safety. I was very glad to reach the cable car station in one piece.

The Puerto Plata Teleférico was anchored by a low, 1940's-looking building surrounded by tall trees. Overhead, a cable car line stretched up to the top of a lush, verdant mountain, which a nearby sign told me was called Mount Isabel de Torres. While I couldn't pick out much of the Spanish, I gathered that the mountain was 2,600 feet above sea level, which, as I reminded myself, was only a short distance away.

We went in the building, bought tickets, and then joined a short line for the cable car. We were lucky to have arrived when we did, because within five minutes of our arrival, the official cruise bus pulled up out front, and shortly the building was lined up out the door.

I exchanged a triumphant glance with Danielle. "Nice work, us," I observed.

We made small talk, mostly about our terrible respective baseball teams, as we waited for our turn. The crowd in line was mostly English-speaking Americans from the cruise line, and whatever conversation we were going to have, Danielle clearly wanted to have it privately.

It took about twenty minutes for it to be our turn, but soon we were whisked into the cable car. The cars were small, and I suddenly realized why the line was so slow-moving down at the foot of the mountain, as they only held about twenty people apiece. Then, we lurched into movement and lifted off into the sky.

I'd never been in a helicopter, but that was all I could think of as we shot into the air. The view of the surrounding palm trees and bushes quickly changed as we rose, and soon we could see the outskirts of Puerto Plata, and then, as we blasted still higher, the entirety of the city to our right and the Carnival Liberty docked on the horizon to our left. I looked over at Danielle, whose face was a mixture of enchantment and fear, and put my arm around her waist. She purred happily and burrowed into my shoulder.

We finally reached the top after five or six minutes, stepping out into a green landscape that was noticeably cooler. It was a gorgeous sunny day, and there had been Caribbean heat at the foot of the mountain, but the summit was cool, breezy and pleasant. We stood for a few moments, taking in the view, then oriented ourselves with a map at the gift shop. There were several miles of hiking trails criss-crossing the summit of the mountain and leading to the next mountain over in the chain, ranging on a scale from wheelchair-accessible to challenging.