They speak of the loneliness of command and it's 100% correct. Being the Captain isn't easy, far from it but sex is certainly one way to relieve the stress day to day.
And if one-on-sex wasn't available then masturbation was the only other way particularly after a long watch in fog or manoeuvring the mighty vessel into port.
He had a fertile imagination and even though he was now in his forties, his early forties, he could still manage four, maybe five wanks a day. Well most days anyway.
He had never married, argued with himself that he'd never met 'The One', although that wasn't strictly true but she had been married to someone else, and all the other women he'd been with paled next to her.
His last leave had been a bit dry, well actually a drought. He hadn't managed to pick up any suitable women, not one. Maybe he was losing his touch or maybe just getting old. The thought of not getting some sex, even if it wasn't regular, scared him. But now he was back on board and had already had a walk through the casino and nightclub eyeing up the passengers. None had particularly caught his eye, although there was a group of British girls who had ranged from slim but not really attractive to, shall we say, good looking and overly voluptuous. Maybe towards the end of their fortnight on board he might chance his hand.
He hadn't had sex with many passengers and shyed away from the crew girls even though many of the dancers and singers, most of who came and went regularly as the shows were changed, were gorgeous. Of course they knew they were, and up their own arses, as the parlance goes.
On the first sea day after re-joining after his latest leave he had decided to walk through the ship and came across a game show in the nightclub. It was a bit meh, and he made a mental note to talk to the cruise director as the grapevine had shook down some complaints about the on board entertainment or lack of it.
What did catch his attention was the lady compering the show. Petite and dark haired, pretty, and curvaceous, the one thing that didn't attract him was the dour uniform, although the short jacket and trouser suit did show off her quite glorious arse. He stood and watched in the darkness for a few minutes, admiring her delivery and her sassy demeanour. Now she was a definite positive to the ship and as he turned to walk away, back to his cabin, he thought he would find out more about her, and mark her down as a promotion possibility.
Lying in bed he found himself thinking of her, this nameless brunette and within a minute a delicious wanktasy, a fantasy made for wank perfection, raced through his head. Of course the outcome was quickly an erection and he began to slowly masturbate as, in his minds eye, he sucked her firm perfect tits, licked her shaven cunt to an explosive orgasm, her shapely legs wearing his favourite lace top stockings gripping his head, then fucked her mouth, then her cunt, then her mouth again, before finishing with a facial, with three streams of cum shooting across her eyebrows, her nose and her luscious red lips. God, if she was half as good in real life as in his fantasy then she'd be a fabulous fuck!
The following day, with the ship safely berthed and cleared he ventured back onto the bridge and looked down at the jetty to see the progress of the shoregoing. Passengers streamed towards the waiting coaches, off to sample Cadiz and Andalusia. He was just about to go and oversee the signing-off of some crew, including performers and the signing-on of their replacements, not that he needed to as the Purser was more than capable. It was then that he saw the slight figure walking back against the tide of people, clipboard in hand, having dispatched and waved off her designated coaches. He grabbed the binoculars and trained them on her. She had a nice swing to her hips, waving at passengers as they passed and stopped to talk to a few.
As she continued on her way she suddenly looked up at the bridge, as if aware that she was being watched. He kept the binoculars on her, she obviously wouldn't be able to see his face behind them, and she smiled up at him. My god she was pretty, understated and completely natural with barely a hint of make up. He guessed she was maybe mid thirties and wondered if she was married or attached. It was only as she reached the foot of the gangway did he realise it was the girl from the game show. She was held up by more and more passengers disembarking and he decided to head down there and hopefully engineer a chance meeting.
He took the internal lift, behind the luxury facade in the distinctly industrial interior of the ship and carefully opened the door before stepping out into the security area. He greeted the security officer and his deputy asking how things were going and after a few minutes the quite stunning brunette stepped off the gangway and passed security. He manoeuvred himself to be directly in her path, then turned sideways to allow her to slide past in the cramped alleyway. This was achieved without touching her in any way, but allowed him to glance down at her ID badge. Her first name was quite incomprehensible but the surname clearly Spanish: Perez and her home country underneath: Argentina which surprised him, plus some flags with the languages she spoke: Spanish of course, English, Italian and French. Clearly she was an accomplished woman and he was immediately impressed. He quickly glanced at her, nice complexion with a few freckles, which surprised him, minimal make up but in truth she hardly needed it.
He engaged in a little small talk, never his forté he was the first to admit, and when an apparent sudden rush of shoregoers emerged from the bank of lifts he ushered Miss Perez towards the stairs, never a favourite of the American guests in particular, in order to get far from the madding crowd. Just before they started the climb up they had to negotiate passage past a wheelchair-bound elderly passenger waiting patiently for her turn to disembark. She looked up at him and said "Well played Captain and good luck." Finishing off with an extravagant wink, unseen by Miss Perez just in front of him. He smiled back at her and rolled his eyes upwards.
"I'm ashamed to say that your name is quite confusing. Is that the word? Maybe confounding? Or maybe I'm just being thick."
She compounded his befuddled comment by saying "What, Perez?"
"No, the first one." She put her right hand over the badge and waved her left hand in dismissal.
"It's Tina, everyone just calls me Tina."
They reached the next deck up and it was deathly quiet in comparison to the deck the gangway was on, and made it much easier to talk.
"I've never been in the bridge." she said, quite out of the blue.
"On the bridge. You go on the bridge rather than in."
"Oh right. So it's 'I saw you on the bridge even though you were in the bridge'?"
He immediately knew he'd been rumbled looking at her through the binoculars.
"Yes, that's right."
"Do you often watch people with binoculars?"
"It depends on if the subject is interesting enough."
"And was it?"
"Yes, very."
"And the bridge?"
"Perhaps I could give you the tour sometime? When you're not engaged."
"I'm not, nor am I married." She flourished her left hand to show she wore no rings on her third finger.
The inference hung in the air for a second or two, but it seemed like an eternity.
"I'm just going to have a coffee, would you care to join me Miss Perez?"
"I'm sorry Captain but I'm a little tied up." She smiled sweetly adding "I believe with a game show."
The thought that she might well be literally a little tied up given half a chance flashed through his mind, but ever the gentleman he smiled and carried on walking towards the overpriced coffee outlet. Not for him of course, as the ladies who worked there knew his order, a macchiato and two of those delicious almond cookies, and although it went on his account it was ultimately all gratis for the Master of the vessel.
As their paths reached the place where they would inevitably go their separate ways she half turned to him and said quietly "but I will be available in an hour."
He nodded and in barely a whisper replied "I wish to see you in my office in thirty minutes Miss Perez. Please re-arrange your schedule accordingly." And with that he strode away, satisfied with his morning's work, a smile on his face that you couldn't remove with a chisel.
He got his coffee and went to his cabin. The aft outer door led straight into his office, a windowless space, then forward to his dayroom and forward again to his bedroom and en suite bathroom. Both dayroom and bedroom had an external window on the starboard side and although not nearly as big as some of the accommodation he had had on other merchant ships, it was a far cry from the double cabin Tina shared with another girl from the events team: twin bunks and hardly room to swing a cat, with intimacy a near impossibility.
He went into his office and not wishing to spill coffee on his white uniform shirt and trousers undressed in his bedroom and hung both up, he took out a white company polo shirt and tennis shorts, de rigeur off duty attire. He peeled off his socks and contemplated whether to lose the underwear or not. They ended up being slung into the dhobi bucket along with the white socks. Dhobi bucket? Just a bucket you put your dirty washing in, which makes it easier to carry to the laundry.
He stepped into the shower and quickly freshened up, a bit over the top for a bridge tour, but hope springs eternal, as did a healthy erection as he thought of the delectable Señorita Perez. He took the Gillette razor and the shaving gel and carefully shaved his scrotum and trimmed the rest of his hair back using the barbers scissors he always carried, then rinsed off and brushed his teeth.
It only took him five minutes to dry off and dress, slipping his feet into a pair of espadrilles, sprayed on some Aramis, his favourite after shave, brushed his spiky blond hair and sat down to drink his coffee. He glanced at the clock, maybe she wasn't coming after all. Oh well, maybe he had been a bit too forceful, too commanding, she was South American after all, and clearly an independent headstrong woman, when the quiet knock startled him.
His heart was racing, pulsing in his ears, this woman had really had an effect on him and he tried to breathe in through his nose to calm himself. The second knock was more insistent and he stood and went into the small office.
"Come in."
The door opened slowly and the breath was knocked out of him as she came into view. She was dressed all in black, a black blouse with a high collar, trimmed with black lace, very demure but not exactly made for ripping off, a black pleated skirt which came to mid thigh, definitely more sexual potential there, with a wide black patent leather belt cinching in her waist. Her shapely legs were clad in plain black stockings. Well he hoped they were stockings but he conceded they were probably tights, the look finished off with flat black pumps. Her hair was completely different from 35 minutes earlier; very cute pigtails, expertly braided and finished off with black ribbons. She wore more make up too; smoky eyes, longer eyelashes and glossy red lips. The overall effect was breathtaking and completely threw the normally unflappable Captain.
