Voyage of Self Discovery Ch. 05

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.

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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 is a fifth chapter in the Voyage of Self Discovery series. Although there is a little recap at the start of the story, you may want to read the earlier parts to get up to speed with the journey so far.

Foreword #4: 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.

Foreword #5: Thank you so much to mbrow for being kind enough to read the draft story and provide his edits. Very much appreciated.

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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.

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.

My introduction to this new world had been tentative to say the least. It started with a stranger on the top deck of a cruise ship. As I watched his wife getting ravaged by another's cock, he sat unperturbed and pleasured me past the point of no return. Even his explanation took me by surprise at the time, although now I can fully connect with what he said.

"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."

An evening with a fellow member of the team really started me on my voyage of discovery. For all I was naive and conservative, Melodee was the total opposite. It was she who pointed out that Swinger's bar was nothing to do with baseball. It was also she who showed me just how personal and exquisite sex could be. What started as nothing more than a little people watching had drawn me in to something much more interesting. All I needed was to find a suitable teacher who could show me just what I had been missing.

Her name was Melodee and the lessons had already begun, first in her cabin and then a wonderful evening in the company of her and a stranger by the name of John. Had it answered all my questions? For sure some had been answered, but others had risen to the surface taking their place. Had I achieved all I wanted? Not at all. I'd dipped my toes in the water, but now I wanted to learn to swim.

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By the time Friday arrived I was full of excitement. It seemed that life was heading just where I wanted it to, and at quite a pace. Melodee had already promised to put my name down on the list for black shirts and what's more, I had my own private encounter with my perfect stranger (okay, his name was Paul) to look forward to. Same place, same time was what he had said, so I just had some ten hours to wait.

Ten hours it might have been, but it seemed like an eternity. I could barely concentrate on the day job, which was not good when working with children. I guess I was lucky. There were no major incidents, nothing which may have put my lack of concentration into the spotlight. I'd got the evening off, which was just as well as, being the last night before we docked, there seemed to be more children than normal staying later into the evening whilst parents spent their last night partying, or whatever else they may be getting up to. As soon as I could, I made my way back to my cabin before anyone could ask me to stay longer. I had other things to concentrate on. If I was going to meet my stranger, then I was going to make sure I looked my best.

Back in my room, I stripped off and jumped in the shower. After hours of working with kids, there was nothing better than the gentle massage of a full-on power shower, standing in the torrent of water as it cascaded over my skin. Most nights it would be food, shower and relaxation. Tonight though, was just that little different. Food? I guess I was just a little too excited to bother. Shower? Yes of course, but this time it was more than just a gentle massage. Relaxation? Well, that was the one thing I was hoping wouldn't be on the menu.

A wash of the hair came first, then the body. As I smoothed rich suds over my bare skin, I closed my eyes and almost immediately I could see my stranger. It was his hands running gently across my body, stimulating my arousal with every touch, and not a simple bar of soap. I moaned slightly as he caressed my ample breasts, fingers sliding over the sensitive nubs before hands massaged the tender flesh. By the time he had slithered down below I was already hot with excitement. I couldn't help myself but dip a finger up inside, remembering the way my stranger had rubbed me off on that first night. It was never intended, but I simply stood there, under the torrent of water, that finger teasing my pussy. I could feel the fires build, yet still I continued. My breathing was coming short and fast, but still I didn't stop. I was in a dreamworld, a sexually exciting dreamworld. A quiver in my legs heralded my orgasm. It was, I hoped, a sign of things to come.

Breathing deeply, and still a little unsteady on my legs, I went back to the task of getting ready. A shave under the arms was followed by my legs, fingertips being used to judge the smooth finish. Happy enough, I glanced down at my one other unkempt jungle. I closed my eyes as I ran my fingers through the dense bush. Almost immediately Melodee sprang into view, or more to the point her smoothly shaven mound. For a moment I wondered. Could I really do it? Could I dispose with what I always saw as being a sign of my femininity? Opening my eyes, I picked up the razor and lowered it down. A shake of the head told me I couldn't, instead just tidying up the edges and turning a sprawling jungle into a dense yet neatly kept lawn.

Having spent much longer than I intended in the shower, I knew that time must be getting on. A seductively spiced body mist enshrouded my nakedness before I considered getting dressed. I'd chosen carefully, laying a set of clothes out on the bed before diving into the bathroom. Inside I felt good, dressed in my skimpiest knickers — okay, as a mother in her forties they weren't the sort which were going to set the heart a pounding, but at least they were racier than the more practical stuff I usually wore — which were covered by a mid-thigh length stretch dress. The dress was one of my favourites. It was so soft and comfortable as it clung to each of my curves, yet strong enough to hold my ample bust relatively still without the need for a bra. Backless sandals, matching in colour to the dress, finished off the outfit. I dried my long locks in what time remained and made my way upstairs.

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As expected for a Friday night, the last one before most of these passengers disembarked, it was already busy on the top deck by the time I got there. I glanced around but there was no sign of Paul. Remembering his words, 'same place, same time,' I headed off towards my usual seat. This was where I had taken to sit and watch the world go by. It was also the place where I had first met my stranger, Paul stopping off as he walked back to his cabin. Maybe I just needed to sit and wait for him to pass by me once more. I was just about to make myself comfortable when I noticed a piece of paper sitting on the chair. It looked very much like one of the drinks mats from Swingers bar. I picked it up and written on the back was a message.

'Bablee . . . In Swingers . . . Come and find me . . . Paul'

Note in hand, albeit now slightly scrunched, I headed off in search of Paul. It didn't take long to find a familiar face, but it wasn't the one I was looking for. Instead, it was Dave who I found first, and of course he made no mistake in catching my eye.

"Back again, Babble?"

"Bablee," I replied, chiding him for his deliberate error.

"So, back again, Bablee? Don't tell me you're just looking for somebody."

"I guess so, Dave. Isn't that what everyone does up here?"

"Well, I haven't seen Mistress Melodee tonight, so I guess you're out of luck."

His wink tried to show how clever he was being, but I knew I was one step ahead of him, and what's more I was feeling just a little mischievous. What harm would a little teasing do?

"Oh Dave, tonight it's not Melodee I'm looking for."

"I'm sorry. I just assumed. So, who is it you are looking for?"

"Well, now you've been kind enough to ask, maybe you can help me Dave . . . here, come a little closer."

Dave leaned forward across the bar, and I did likewise. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards me, my mouth now nestled up against his ear. What I had to say was for Dave's benefit only.

"Tonight, it's a man I'm looking for. Somebody strong . . . somebody dark . . . somebody hot and exciting . . . a man just for me. Any ideas, Dave?"

I could feel the warmth in his cheek and knew my words were having the desired effect. I didn't need to look to know that he was hot under the collar.

"I've met him once before, and I promised I would meet him again. Have you seen him, Dave? Have you seen the man I'm looking for?"

A little nibble at his ear lobe and a kiss on the cheek, added a little spice to my tease.

"Well, Babble . . . sorry I meant Bablee . . . if you don't mind waiting, I'll be finished around . . ."

The bait taken, I placed a quick kiss on his lips then pulled away. Straightening his collar, smoothing out the creases from my grip, I smiled back at Dave.

"Ohhh, Dave, you are a dark horse. Are you making me an offer?"

"Er . . . well . . . I'm . . . sorry . . . I really don't . . . know what came over . . ."

I laughed.

"You don't need to be sorry Dave. It is I who has been leading you on. I am flattered by your offer, and on another night it could be a very exciting one indeed. Tonight though, I already have a man in mind. He's -"

A tap on the shoulder made me jump. There, right behind me, was Paul.

"Bablee," he pronounced. "I thought it was you. I've got a table at the back. Don't be shy, come and join me. Barman, bring over a bottle of your finest champagne and make sure it's well chilled."

With Dave going off in search of the requested bottle, I followed Paul into the shadows. Just as he had said, his table was tucked away against the wall in one of the darker corners of the bar, a little out of the prying gaze. A curved seat ran three quarters around the table, easily capable of seating three or four. There was just one disappointment. We were just two.

"Is it just the two of us, Paul?" I asked, shuffling half way along the curved seat.

I didn't get a reply as, at that moment, Dave arrived and with him the champagne. A large metal ice bucket contained the well chilled bottle. He placed it down on the table followed by two champagne flutes.

I'm not sure why, but inside I could feel a tinge of disappointment. I had so wanted to meet his wife and to understand how it felt, to be ravaged up against that window. Instead though it was just me and Paul. Don't get me wrong, a night with my perfect stranger was fantastic, but it could have been so much better.

Paul shuffled in at the side of me. He reached for the bottle and before long the tell-tale pop told of a cork being released from its confines, followed by the glug of wine as it was poured into the two glasses. Paul handed me one, took the other for himself, then turned and smiled.

"Here's to a wonderful evening, Bablee. A wonderful evening with a beautiful woman."

In unison we lifted our glasses, the rims touching with an audible chink. With the sound still running through my ears, I took a sip. It was divine, the fine stream of bubbles tingling in my mouth. I smiled back at Paul, hoping he would make the first move. He didn't disappoint, placing an arm around my back, his free hand resting gently on my shoulder.

"Now, what was it you were saying?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing important Paul. I was just hoping . . . no, it's nothing."

He laughed.

"You were hoping for someone else."

"No . . . no . . . Paul."

"I promised you an evening with us, and you're wondering why there's only me and you."

"Well, yes, but . . . really, it's not . . ."

"Don't worry, Suzy was just a little . . . what's the word . . ."

"Busy?" I chipped in.

"Occupied, is a little more accurate."

"Occupied?"

"Yep. When I left her, she was just a little tied up. She said it wouldn't be long before she was done, and I should make you comfortable until she comes. So, here we are."

I smiled. Yes, here we were, together. This was different to the other times. I was nervous, but it was through excitement rather than fear. Paul had started this whole journey and now we were together for one last evening. I so hoped he would give me what I needed, provide those answers and let me feel the way his Suzy felt. The only question was whether it would just happen or whether I needed to make it happen. Glass empty, I placed it on the table and turned to him.

"Paul, I've been wanting to know . . ."

"Know what?"

"You know."

"I'm not sure I do, Bablee."

"That night . . . when I watched, then listened . . . I want to know how it feels, to be . . . oh, there's no easy way to say this . . . I want to know how it feels to be fucked hard like she was and to scream in pleasure like she did."

"I see," came his reply. "Well, I guess Suzy would be the best to show you. Now, why don't you make yourself comfortable while we wait for her. As they say, all good things come to those who wait."

Comfortable? I pondered that single word for what seemed like an eternity. That was the second time he had used the word. Comfortable? It could mean relaxed, content or maybe even happy. Well, I was already relaxed, which was such a reversal from that first encounter. That just left content and happy. Well, contentment follows happiness, so there could only be one meaning. My stranger had just asked me to make myself comfortable, and who was I to ignore such a nice request?

"Paul?" I asked.

"Yes, Bablee," came his reply, looking deep into my eyes.

"Would this count as making myself comfortable?"

Leaning forward, my heart pumping with anticipation, I placed my lips against his. There they lingered for a sensual few seconds, before pulling back. I smiled again at Paul.

"So, Paul. Does that count?"

"I guess it's a start . . . but maybe, Bablee . . . maybe you need to show me again," came a rather teasing reply.

"Oh, I don't think so. If you want it Paul, then you'd better come and get it."

Within seconds we were two young lovers, locked together in a what could only be described as a passionate snog. There was nothing gentle, yet everything sensual, about that embrace. Lips mashed together, tingling inside, everything around us faded into nothingness as we smooched. It was so far apart from the last time I was up here and Melodee kissed me in public. Then, I was so conscious of being seen. Now though, for all I knew, the whole bar could be watching us, and I really didn't care. With the kiss came the embrace, Paul's hand gently caressing my cheek whilst mine rested snuggly in the nape of his neck. I held him close. There was no way my perfect stranger was getting away tonight.

The more we kissed, the more my heart took control. Desire was ruling the roost and any care in the world had long since faded away. I barely flinched as Paul's fingers ran over the front of my dress. Five thin lines wound their way down, from neckline down to hem, then back up again, pausing only at the natural curvature of my ample bust. I jumped inside as his fingertips ran teasingly along the underside of my breasts before continuing in ever decreasing circles across my fleshy mounds. By the time he homed in on my nipples, they were already trying as best they could to push through the fabric of my dress. Every movement could be felt as he flicked his nails over the now sensitised nubs. I was so happy that I had chosen not to wear a bra.

"Mmmm," I moaned, a muffled sort of sound into his lips, as he pinched playfully at one nipple then the other.

Before long I had my eyes firmly shut, enjoying nothing more than the raw wanton emotions that were now filling my mind. A tingle in my lips, a sensitivity in my breasts, the thump of an excited heartbeat and now the slightest feeling of dampness down below. Every squeeze and caress had me moaning under my breath as Paul kneaded away through the fabric of my dress. It came as a disappointment when his hand withdrew. I waited, on bated breath, wondering just what he was going to do next.

When finally he cupped my bare knee, my mind flashed back to that first ever encounter. That time I was wearing trousers, whereas tonight I had the freedom of a loose-fitting dress making a repeat of that evening all the more easier. I said nothing, but subconsciously I was willing Paul to run his fingers up and under my dress, following the smoothness of my naked legs all the way to the top. It wasn't those teasing fingers though which broke me out of our loving embrace.

"So, I see you've already met my husband," came a woman's voice.

I didn't need to look to know who it was, but I pulled back from Paul and stared in the direction of the voice regardless. There, stood right in front of the table, was his wife. She was almost exactly how I remembered her. Other than being clothed, she was the same younger, leggy blonde that I had watched getting ravaged on that first evening. There was something else though, or maybe I was just imagining it. Was his wife just a little flushed in the face? What was it that Paul had said? Occupied . . . tied up . . . yes, they were the words he had used. My mind was already wondering. What, or maybe who, had she been occupied with?

"Don't stop on my behalf," Suzy continued. "Let me go get another glass and then you can introduce me to this beautiful young woman, Paul."

I blushed slightly. Nobody these days called me beautiful, let alone young as well. I watched as my flatterer walked away. She had a real sway in her hips, a seductive sexy sort of sway. I knew nothing about this woman, other than the fact that she enjoyed getting down and rough, but already I could see her strutting her stuff down the catwalk. I was still all eyes when she returned, this time watching her legs rise up and her cleavage disappear down into each end of a tight-fitting dress. Dress? It was more a tube of stretchy fabric than it was a dress, covering from mid-thigh to about three quarters over her large bust. Where I had curves in most of the right places, and maybe a few wrong ones too, Suzy was tall and slim with narrow hips, but a slightly top-heavy bust. It was the legs though which stood out, seeming to go on forever before disappearing into the darkness of her dress.