Voyage of Self Discovery Ch. 02

Copyright © May 2018 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work.

This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Author's Notes

Foreword #1 : All sexually active characters in this story are over 18.

Foreword #2 : This is a story and intended purely for pleasure.

Foreword #3 : This story was inspired from a suggestion from a fellow reader, Bablee, whose name I have used in the story but for no other purpose than having a name for a character. Chapter one contains the original suggestion but I have now taken the liberty of extending Bablee's voyage to a greater extent.

Foreword #4 : Thank you so much to mbrow for being kind enough to read the draft story and provide his edits. Very much appreciated.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was my darling husband who bought me this notebook, leather bound with gold trimmings, as an homage to my fifty years. It was my darling husband who also suggested I put it to good use. He even bought the pen that I have been using to write my memoirs. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remember that it is a real story and one in which I was the centre of all attention. It is a story of how a conventional woman lost her innocence and started on a journey of discovery with some truly enlightening results, all of this in my forties.

So now my love life is better than it's ever been--okay at a little over fifty it is more about the quality than the quantity, but it is still better than ever. In my time away I learnt much about myself and even more about my relationship with my darling husband. I still remember the words of a stranger when I first ventured on this journey, words uttered just before he pleasured me past the point of no return, and all to the carnal symphony of his wife being ravaged by another's cock.

"That's what makes our love so much stronger. It is a matter of trust and freedom. We love each other so intimately, but sometimes in a relationship you just need a little bit more. That's where the freedom comes into it. We are both free to be ourselves, together or apart, yet we know we will come back to each other happier and stronger."

At the time I didn't understand, but I very much do now, and boy, was he right!

I am writing more every day, and before long I will need a second journal. I am only writing because Javed wants me to, almost urges me to. He wants to know every lurid detail of my experience on board that cruise ship. He doesn't want to read my stories though. Instead he wants me to read them out loud to him. You see, the stories contained in this journal are as much a turn on for him as they are a record of my journey away from my conservative background, and they have now become part of our own love lives. What better way to set the tone for a night of passion than a lustful tale of pure erotic desire. What's more it has the desired effect, as I can vouch for in the way that my heart misses a beat every time he asks for a little story before bedtime.

And yes, he knows full well that I am publishing them for your enjoyment.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I kept my head down for several days after that encounter with my tanned mystery lover. I knew it had been wrong and I knew I had wronged my darling husband. So, intentionally, I was back on the straight and narrow. If I stuck to the day job and avoided temptation, I knew I would soon be back to the old Bablee, the conservative predictable Bablee.

It was what I wanted, or more what I knew people would expect of me. Each morning I would awake and take a look at that photo of Javed. Each evening, after a long day's work, I would return to my room and take a fresh look at that photo of Javed. Something though wasn't quite right, and more often than not I would find myself crying at that picture of Javed. What confused me most though was that the tears were not tears of unhappiness. They were more tears of confusion, of conflict within my own identity, of knowing I wanted something but not quite knowing what it was.

A chance encounter though led to some of these questions being understood and my eyes being opened to a wider horizon. It was an encounter with a young lady, one I had briefly met at that initial training session. Her name was Melodee and she is probably the main driving force behind the new Bablee. I look back and know that I have a lot to thank Melodee for. It is a real shame that I will most likely not have the opportunity to do so, or at least not in the way that would do it justice. That though would be a dilemma for another day.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was my first Friday at sea, almost a whole week having passed since I embarked on this voyage. Just like the waves, I had my ups and downs. At this point in time though, I was pretty much at the bottom of a huge down and not knowing whether an up was to follow or not. I had become pretty invisible other than to those I worked directly with, and even with those I was a little more distant than normal. I hadn't been back up to the top floor since that eventful evening. In fact I hadn't been anywhere except for the kids club and my cabin. That is how distant I had become. It was on that Friday morning that I had my chance encounter with Melodee, bumping into her en route from my cabin to my workplace. Actually bumping was the wrong word--I basically walked straight past her without even noticing. It was only a voice from behind which broke me out of my trance like state.

"Bablee . . . it is Bablee, isn't it?" came a soft young voice.

I spun around having heard my name. A young twenty or thirty something, dressed in cruise uniform but wearing a red top was smiling back at me. Instantly I recognised the face and smiled as I racked my brains for a name. This was the one thing I was never any good at and I really envied those with a photographic memory who could reel off names to faces without really having to think about it.

"It's me, Melodee," came the reply. "We were on the same induction session."

"Yes, of course," I replied trying to appear as nonchalant as possible in a vain attempt not to show my weakness at remembering names.

Of course I remembered Melodee. She was my antithesis. For all I was conservative and reserved, Melodee was outgoing and expressive. For all I took comfort in being covered up, Melodee had no qualms in flaunting what she had, and boy did she have a body to flaunt! She was a good ten years my younger, maybe more, and with it came the confidence of youth, or was it the innocence of youth? We'd met in the changing room when we were both trying on our uniform, or at least I was trying on and she was next in line. I can still remember her words as I took those hesitant first few steps out from behind that screen.

"Wow, nice uniform, it really suits you Bablee."

Now here she was, greeting me in the hallway, dressed in the same uniform as I was except for a red top instead of my white one. This time around though I didn't feel ashamed at my body being on display--over time I had gotten used to that. It was a different feeling which went through my mind, one I had to admit I had never expected to have felt. I stood there eyeing Melodee up and down, as discreetly as I could in the hope she wasn't watching, and yes I was envious.

She had the beauty of youth and I was nothing more than a middle aged mother. Her top stretched tightly over large firm breasts, nipples clearly visible through the red fabric and deep enticing cleavage on display. She was at least a cup size bigger than me, if not two, with not even the slightest hint of sagginess. Then there was the waist. I almost felt I could encircle it in my two hands, impossible I knew but it was so narrow. Finally the legs, long, silky, tapering down to narrow ankles. Yes, I was envious, I shouldn't have been as I had the benefit of life on my side, but I had to admit it that for one short minute I wished I had what she had.

It was almost subliminal words which broke me out of my attentive stare.

"Bablee . . . Bablee . . . are you OK? You seem a little preoccupied."

"So sorry Melodee, I guess just a little tired. How are you enjoying the new job?"

"I'm loving it. It's everything I thought it would be and more. The guests are so friendly, so open, so welcoming. I feel so at home here. I guess it's liberation by name and liberation by nature. Don't you feel the same Bablee?"

My mind flickered back to that evening, sat up on the top floor, allowing a stranger to play with my pussy as I relaxed and enjoyed his wife's performance. Half of me wanted to disagree and run back to my cabin. The other half though still had that warm fuzzy feeling inside, recollecting the beauty of that orgasm. I knew that the right thing to do was deflect the question and get on with the job in hand.

"Er, I guess so," came my reply. "I do enjoy working here."

"Cool," replied Melodee in a slightly suspicious way. "I'll leave you to it then."

I watched as she turned to leave. Even from behind she looked beautiful. The way that her short skirt draped over her firm ass was something else. I was about to leave myself when she suddenly spun back around, her skirt flaring up as she turned, revealing the bottom edge of a pair of scarlet gym knickers of the shorts variety. Even the most functional of underwear looked beautiful on young Melodee.

"Oh, I nearly forgot Bablee. There's an end of the week party tonight up in Swingers. Am I going to see you there?"

I was almost speechless. This one had passed me by, but the minute she mentioned Swingers then my heart skipped a beat. My initial thought was that maybe my tanned lover would be there once more. No sooner had that thought drifted away than I was doubting myself again, remembering my darling Javed and how wrong it was to be enjoying myself without him.

"I don't know Melodee. I'm a little long in the tooth for parties. Why don't you let me know how it was tomorrow morning?"

"Nonsense," came a single word reply, taking me a little aback. I stared at Melodee wondering just what she was going to say next. I didn't have to wait for long.

"Nonsense, my girl. You'll be at my cabin at seven and we'll go together."

"You are so kind Melodee, but I really don't think . . . "

I never got to finish my sentence as Melodee stepped in.

"Seven it is. Don't be late, and wear your black top. Cabin 307."

With that she did turn and leave. I just stood and watched as she walked seductively down the corridor and out of sight. Everything about this young beauty exuded confidence, exuded youth, exuded seductiveness. I had no idea why I felt this way about another woman but now I was somewhat excited about meeting her later. I tried to convince myself that it was nothing more than the need to make friends. After all we were going to be on this boat for a long time and it could become quite lonely if you didn't find a few like-minded souls to be with. Finally I went about my own business, my mind focused back on the day job.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The quiet tranquillity of an early evening at sea was broken only by the rush of water pouring out of a shower head. I was still in two minds about the party that evening, but if I was to go, then at least I wanted to feel good in myself. Turning off the torrent I stepped out from the steam filled cubicle, grabbed a soft towel and started to dry myself off. The towel in one hand, I glanced in the mirror above the sink. Even through the mist of a steamy bathroom I could make out the appearance of a rather beautiful young woman, slimly built without being skinny, and with adequate curves in all the right places. For that instant I was on cloud nine, a goddess ready to take on the world and all of its temptations.

A swipe of the towel across the foggy surface of the mirror revealed the reality of the moment. Here stood a forty-something year old mother, yes a reasonably attractive forty-something year old mother, but definitely not a goddess who was going to set hearts a flutter. My mind was taken back to that conversation in the corridor and my statement about being too old in the tooth for parties. It would take more than a mist filled bathroom to convince me that I was a party girl once more. That said, I was on a promise, so had to get on with it. I ran a comb through my shoulder length dark locks and turned to go back into the main cabin.

A glance at my watch told me I had half an hour left to get ready and get upstairs to Melodee's cabin. I rustled around in drawers and pulled out clean underwear, pale white cotton, practical but most definitely not romantic by any means. I pulled them on and stood there, admiring my reflection on the glass of the cabin porthole. I loved white underwear and the way that the clean colour contrasted so nicely with my light olive toned skin. I had always been fair of skin, but the pureness of white cotton did seem to reinforce my natural tones. The rest of the outfit didn't take much choosing. My usual work skirt along with the black top had been the order of the day. A party it may have been, but it seemed that it was to be nothing more than an extension to the working day.

Eventually I would come to find that this was far from the case, but that will be a story for later in the journal.

Tonight though was all about meeting up with Melodee and I now had just over fifteen minutes left. It took a good ten to dry my hair, and despite all the planning I found myself almost rushing out of the door and through the boat. Melodee's cabin was only on the floor above, but it still seemed to take forever to find. By the time I did locate the correct door then I was already a little over five minutes late, which for me was a huge deal as I prided myself in my timekeeping.

I rapped my knuckles against the metal door, listening as the knock echoed around the corridor. I don't know why but my heart was beating ten to the dozen as I stood there outside her door. There was no answer so I rapped once more and waited. The longer I waited the more nervous I became. Was this the right cabin? Had I made a fool of myself? Had I been taken in by Melodee's charm when all she was doing was making idle conversation?

There were footsteps behind me and suddenly all I wanted to do was fade away into the fabric of the ship. There was nowhere to go though so I stood there, motionless, keeping myself to myself as a youngish couple, a man and woman hand in hand with each other, walked past. I heard myself calling out "good evening" in reply to their courteous welcome. I gasped a sigh of relief as they passed me and set off further down the corridor. I was about to rap once more on the cabin door when a corner of my eye caught his head turn. Was I dreaming or had he just winked at me?

"Have fun," he called out. "Catch you later?"

I didn't reply, maybe couldn't reply, not that it mattered as within seconds they were out of earshot anyway. Had he really said that and had he really winked at me? I shook my head, discarding such thoughts from my mind, and rapped once more on the door. Again no reply and I turned to walk away, a feeling half of disappointment and half of frustration, maybe anger, welling up inside of me. I had only taken a handful of steps down the corridor when a woman's voice called out.

"Bablee . . . " came an immediately recognisable soft young voice.

I didn't listen to anything which followed and simply turned around. There, standing half in and half out of the cabin door, wrapped in nothing more than a large white towel was Melodee. The first thought which crossed my mind was how little that towel actually covered. Any gust of air would lift the bottom up and leave more than just her legs on display for all to see, whereas a quick tug at the top would most likely cause the whole thing to fall down to the floor. Here though was Melodee, totally unperturbed, standing on display in the corridor. She smiled at me as I walked back towards her cabin. I followed her inside and quickly closed the door behind us.

"I thought I'd got the wrong cabin," was all I could think to say.

Deep down I was relieved by the fact that Melodee had answered the door yet, at the same time, totally unnerved by the state of dress of my younger colleague. My heart was pounding fast and I'm sure if anyone was paying close attention then they would have seen me shaking with nerves. Was it just nerves at the first meeting with another colleague or was it more a reaction to her lack of coverings? I didn't know but I sure did feel uncomfortable, trying as best I could to avert my gaze away from staring at Melodee. I guess she must have noticed the way I was staring, especially from her rather surprising reply.

"Oh, I'm sorry Bablee. I took a shower and sort of lost track of time. I guess you could say I was enjoying myself too much. I hope you don't mind if I finish off getting ready and then I'll pour us a glass of something. Maybe you could be a darling and pass me the clothes from that chair over there."

I looked around and saw the chair over by the window. On it were the most skimpy pair of knickers I had ever seen, a red lace thong, and a similarly low cut matching bra. I picked them up and couldn't help having a feel at the fabric as I turned around. I guess my expression said it all, almost an audible gasp of shock, as I stared back at a now towel free Melodee in all her naked beauty. There was a sudden tension in the room as I quickly turned my head away and held out the garments, waiting for my colleague to take them from my grasp. Instead though she took my whole hand.

"You don't have to look away Bablee," came the unexpected reply. "I haven't got anything that you don't."

There was a gentle squeeze of my hand, almost in supportive encouragement, but I still didn't turn back. Melodee let go of my hand and I felt the clothes taken out of my grasp

"I'm sorry Bablee, did I do something to upset you?"

"It's OK Melodee, it's just me. I guess I'm not as comfortable as you in exposing myself. It's just not what I'm used to."

I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. Slowly I turned my head back towards Melodee, her intimacy now covered by the red lacy fabric. I still wasn't entirely comfortable but I relaxed a little more the moment I noticed her sweet smile. I watched as she stepped backwards and sat down on the edge of the bed. I still couldn't come to terms with just how confident she had been in her own nudity, but I guessed it probably helped if you had a body quite as beautiful as Melodee's.

"Come, Bablee," she called, patting the edge of the bed with one hand. "Sit yourself down and let's get to know each other a little better. We've still got time before we need to be upstairs."

I did just that, sitting down at the side of Melodee but far enough away not to feel on top of each other. I suspected immediately that she could sense the tension inside, and I wasn't wrong. What surprised me though was the way that Melodee chose to deal with it. For all she was a beautiful young babe and had no qualms in exposing herself to a mere stranger, she also had a most welcome sensitive side.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable Bablee. I guess I'm rather forward in myself, and I assumed everyone else would be the same. I shouldn't have and I do apologise. Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself and how come you got a job on a ship like this."