The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead (or just confused) is entirely coincidental. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or in total, without the author's permission.
This story takes place in the entirely fictional city of Springfield, California, so don't go looking for it on a map. And in my little fictional world, there are no unwanted pregnancies or STD's, except as plot driving devices. The author encourages the practice of safe-sex.
This story contains elements of m/f and f/f sexual activity. If you are offended by either type of content, please stop now.
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Tara and Keira were stowing their gear, preparing for a month long ocean voyage. Tara could scarcely believe that people were actually able to take that much time off, but Keira explained it was a cruise for the rich, the famous and/or the retired.
The last two weeks had been fun, but Tara's heart had been uneasy. After seeing Keira and Carlos, the ship's dance instructor, having sex, she had found herself fending off feelings of jealousy. But she wasn't sure who she was jealous of or why. But her friendship with Keira had endured. Also, her she had become a closer friend with Karen and Sam, the couple with whom she had a number of sexual encounters, starting on her last voyage and continuing on and off for the last couple weeks. Sam, a plastic surgeon, had agreed to give her a great deal on breast augmentation surgery when she got back. She was tired of being flat. She had nice musculature overall, but she wanted a set of curves. The surgery was going to take place within a few days of her return.
But that was later. For the moment, she had cabins to clean and toilets to plunge. As she went through her rounds that first day, she spent a lot of time checking out the passengers. As expected, their ages varied from the early twenties to the seventies, and they consisted of everything from retired couples to rich young newlyweds, as well as a smattering of wealthy bachelors and bachelorettes. Within a few days, she had already found evidence of their romantic trysts, seen overweight and balding men in bathing suits a size to small and an older woman get drunk and naked and go streaking down the corridor. It had been like watching a heavily wrinkled dog get set loose on the ship, and it was an image that would haunt Tara for the rest of her life.
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A week into the voyage . . .
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Tara was sitting at a table with the rest of the Lounge gang. Everyone except Tara, Jeff (a lifeguard) and a waiter named Paul were drunk off their asses. Sunny had stumbled off with some guy she had just met, Thomas (one of the cooks) and Jared (an assistant to the activities director) were so far gone they were going to need to be helped back to their room, and Carlos and Keira decided to head over to his room for some "rest and relaxation." While Tara had found her niche in the group as "the quiet new girl," she found herself wanting to scream when her bunkmate and the dance instructor went off to have sex. She knew she should talk to Keira about things so that Tara's jealousy didn't affect their friendship, but she still wasn't sure why she felt the things she did. It infuriated her that those two gorgeous specimens were going to be getting down and dirty . . . and hot . . . and sweaty . . . Without much warning, her irritation turned into arousal. The more she thought about what those two were going to be doing, the more aroused she became.
Finally, Thomas and Jared announced they wanted to go bed. Jeff and Paul agreed to help the inebriated duo back to their room, which was luckily right next to the one Jeff and Paul shared. They asked if Tara wanted to tag along, an offer she accepted. She knew that if she went back to her room, her jealous thoughts would wander again.
"You smell rotten, dude," Jeff said in his valley accent. Jeff was a goofball who had spent most of his life on the beach. His face always made it look like he was stoned, but he never actually touched the stuff. He had short, curly blonde hair and a nice build. He wasn't as cut as Carlos was, but he never lacked for attention from the ladies. Paul wasn't bad to look at either. He was tall and thin, but not emaciated. He had short, straight black hair and high cheekbones that made him look a bit effeminate. But he was a genuine sweetheart who got along with Tara very well.
"I shmell just fine, fank vou airy much," Jared slurred as he was deposited unceremoniously on his bed. Paul dumped Thomas on the other bed, and then the three remaining comrades went next door to hang for a bit.
"They are going to be hurting SO much in the morning," snickered Paul.
"Bastards deserve it," said Tara. "That'll teach them to drink so much."
"Okay, Miss Prim and Proper. We'll see how nice everyone treats you the first that YOU get tipsy." This was Jeff, who was always smiling.
"I've gotten drunk before," Tara admitted shyly.
"Oh really? Did you get wild and naked and end up in a barn somewhere with a guy with only two teeth and two first names?"
"Fuck you Paul!"
"Any time, any place," the dark-haired boy shot back. "Seriously, what happened?"
"I was at a party. The punch was spiked. I realized something was up, so I stumbled home and went to bed." Tara blushed and lowered her head. "Not very exciting, I guess."
"Don't go gettin' shy on us again," said Jeff. "Not everyone is the 'wild and crazy' type."
As is often the case when a young person is accused of being 'not cool' somehow, Tara instinctively went on the defensive. "I can be wild and crazy if want to!"
"Oh yeah? What's the wildest thing you've ever done?"
Tara went quiet again.
