The Cruise

I'm standing on the ship deck in my new yellow sundress and wide-brimmed hat. The warm sea breeze gently caresses my skin. God, I need this vacation. Work has been almost unbearable. Late nights, stringent deadlines. My boss has really been riding my ass and there are three of us junior editors competing for the same promotion. I sip my champagne as the cruise ship gently sails from the port; I can feel the stress lifting as the city skyline shrinks behind us. I just hope someone doesn't edge me out in the next seven days while I'm cruising the Caribbean.

The sun is starting to set and the deck is getting crowded. I feel exposed, standing here alone among all these happy couples. I tried to rally for a girls' trip, but work, family, other obligations got in the way. So here I am, just me, myself and I. "Maybe you'll meet someone," my friends said. I suppose a vacation fling wouldn't be such a terrible thing. My relationship with Pete doesn't seem to be going anywhere. I barely see him anymore on account of his ambition to make partner this year. The sky is pink and the sun on the horizon. I watch intensely as it slowly sinks further and further down, hoping to see the fabled green flash when the sun fully disappears.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and jump. "Natalie?" I turn and there he is. A ghost from my past. "Eric? Wh-what are you doing here?" I haven't seen him since our years-long torrid affair ended a year ago.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," he says.

I first met Eric in the elevator in my office building. I was carrying a cumbersome stack of manuscripts and lost my balance, dropping a pile of papers on his feet. I was mortified, but he just smiled and picked them up for me. We rode in silence until the elevator reached my floor. Once the door opened I thanked him and quickly exited. I didn't see him again for another week, when I got a call from reception that I had a visitor.

"I asked you first," I say, my voice trembling. This man always had such a hold on me; I was devastated when he told me he and his wife were trying to work things out and that he, in fact, would not be leaving her for me. For two years he strung me along, with lavish gifts, romantic getaways and promises of a future together.

"We had this planned for awhile--Kath and I." Oh, to hear her name makes my blood boil. "Anyway, long story short, we split up for good. Ink's dry on the divorce papers."

"Oh," is all can muster. His hand is still on my shoulder and it's a nice warm contrast to the cool night breeze. I want to be wrapped in his arms. Smell the cologne on his neck, feel his built frame.

"Are you here with someone?" he asks.

"No, it's just me."

"I've been meaning to call you," he reaches down and squeezes my hand, "but I wasn't sure if you'd want to hear from me."

"I'm seeing someone," I say robotically.

"I figured that," he sounds disappointed. "You're so irresistible; anyone is lucky to have you."

"What do you want?" I ask, pulling my hand from his.

"Well your glass is empty," he says eyeing the champagne flute, "how about we grab a friendly drink and catch up."

"I'm a little tired," I shiver as a cool blast of air enshrouds us.

"Here," he says removing his blazer and draping it over my shoulders. "Please, just one drink?"

I'm a sucker for him. I never could say no. But getting over him was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. "I really don't think that's a good idea," I say looking down at my feet, afraid that if I look him in the eye I'll cave.

He pushes my chin up and looks deeply into my eyes. "You're still as lovely as the day we first met. You have no idea what you're doing to me right now." He pulls me into him and I feel a bulge in his pants. I close my eyes and inhale a long deep breath. It's a familiar scent, one I've tried to forget. Looking up at him, I say, "One drink."

***

He leads me into the lounge and over to a red velvet sofa. We sit and he puts his arm around me. I pull away and turn to face him. "Do you think we're just going to pick back up where we left off?" I snap.

"Look, Nat, I'm really sorry about what happened. Things got messy and I regret not getting a divorce sooner. It was just so...complicated."

"For two years I believed you. I thought we were going to be together. YOU told me we were going to be together. I'm such a fool."

"I'm the fool," he says twisting a lock of my hair around his finger. "You were everything I could dream of and I threw it all away for something that I knew wasn't working."

"You deserve to be alone," I clap back.

"You're probably right," he says cupping my cheek with his hand. "But you know how good it feels when we're together. You can't deny that can you?"

He's right. I can't deny it. Our bodies seem to have been made for each other. Our kinks also. He was a bad boy for cheating on his wife and I was the hot young mistress. And I played the part flawlessly. I didn't get jealous because I knew he loved me, not his wife. We shared our deepest, darkest secrets with each other. I thought he was my soulmate until that crushing day when he ended it.

"Remember that time in the Bahamas? On the dock? You were straddling me as the rain poured down around us?"

"Stop," I beg, not wanting a trip down memory lane.

"You were so convinced a boat was going to go by and catch us."

I remember the day like it was yesterday. It was the first time we'd fucked outside and it was dangerous and exhilarating.

"You came so hard and you looked so hot in your soaking wet shirt."

"Please stop," I beg once more, though I'd like to straddle him right here. Grind my pussy into that bulge in his pants. Stop it! my head is screaming.

He leans in and presses his lips to mine. They're soft and warm and suddenly I'm weak. I let him part my lips and slide his tongue into my mouth. God, how we would spend hours just kissing and over-the-clothes petting to really heat things up.

He pulls away from me and stares into my eyes. "I know you still feel something," he whispers.

I bite my lip and nod.

***

He takes his key card out of his pocket and unlocks the door to his suite. Stepping inside, the lights automatically turn on. "Wow," I say scanning the living room. "This is quite roomy for just one person."

"I'm hoping you'll join me," he pulls me into him and kisses my forehead. "We'd never have to leave."

"I rub my face into his chest and untuck his shirt. He pulls my zipper down and pushes the straps from my shoulders; my dress slips down to the floor and pools at my feet. "God, how I've missed you," he says admiring my body. He leans in and fills his mouth with my breast, as his hands grip my ass and pull me deeper into him. Is this actually happening, I wonder, worried that I might wake up at any moment and find myself alone in bed, crying. I haven't dreamt about him in months but every time I used to, I'd always wake up sobbing.

"Are you real?" I whisper. He stands upright and smiles.

"I am, and here for only you."

"It's just so strange that we would run into each other like this," I'm still trying to wrap my brain around this situation.

"Maybe it's a sign, that we're meant to be together."

"Take me to bed," I command.

He grabs my wrist a walks me toward the bedroom. The king bed is calling out to me. I slide my body onto it, knocking some of the many throw pillows to the floor.

"Turn over," he says. "I want to look at your body."

I do as I'm told and he unbuckles his pants and pulls out his hard dick. As he watches me he starts stroking himself. The sight of him pleasuring himself is getting me wet. I reach my hand between my legs a pull some moisture up to my clit.

"God, you're so sexy when you touch yourself," he says breathily.

"I want to feel the weight of your body on me," I'm practically begging as I continue to rub my clit.

He drops his pants and walks toward the bed. "First can I taste you?"

"Yes," I whisper. He spreads my legs and licks my opening with his tongue before pushing it gently inside me. I moan and close my eyes. Oh how I've missed this.

"I've missed this," he whispers, as if reading my mind, before pressing his tongue to my clit.

"You feel so fucking good," I cry out. "You're gonna make me cum soon if you're not careful.

"Good, I want you to cum." He continues to swirl his tongue around my clit as he inserts two fingers inside of me. My legs start shaking uncontrollably from the pleasure and I know I'm close. With one last swirl, I feel my body quake and tighten around his fingers. My body is contracting uncontrollably.

"Please put your dick inside me," I beg. I want him to feel me squeeze him before the contractions stop.

He quickly slides into me, "God, your pussy's so wet."

"Fuck me till I cum again," I demand.

He pulls out and quickly flips me onto my stomach. He grabs my waist and pulls my ass up toward him. His dick slides inside me once more and he knows what he's doing. This is how he gets every last bit of his dick inside me. "Are you playing with your pussy?" he asks.

I reach my hand between my legs and start rubbing my clit as he continues to thrust, my ass smacking his pelvis. He spreads my ass cheeks and slowly grazes my asshole, grunting as he does. "Are you close?" he asks.

"Put your finger in me," I moan.

He puts his finger in his mouth to moisten it and then softly pushes it into my ass. "Oh, god," I moan again. "You feel so fucking good filling me everywhere."

"I'm not gonna last much longer," he says.

Suddenly I'm very aware of my body, my pussy squeezing his dick, my clit becoming more and more sensitive, his finger pressing on my g-spot. It's almost too much to bear and before I know it I'm screaming uncontrollably and my pussy tightens around his dick.

"God, baby, you're so fucking good!" he yells, giving three final thrusts before collapsing on top of me.

I can feel his heart beating furiously in his chest, his warm breath in my ear. "You know I never stopped loving you," he whispers before pulling himself out of me, turning me over and kissing my neck. "Now we have to make up for lost time," he says.

"Well, we have seven days on this boat," I reply with a sly grin.