The Cruise 37

Michael and Sharon...

"Oh God, Michael," Sharon softly moaned, "Those hands of your, are truly incredible!"

She was lying face down on a chaise lounge and dressed in a white bikini, with her head pillowed on her forearms, as her husband massaged tanning lotion onto her lightly bronzed shoulders, back and legs. It was a sunny September day poolside, and she was enjoying the pampering she was receiving while they were on a Caribbean cruise. A gentle, early afternoon breeze helped to keep the heat to a minimum, the sky was a deep pristine blue and not even a wisp of a cloud was anywhere in sight.

Michael smiled at her remark as he sat next to her bare-chested, dressed in black swim shorts and was methodically rubbing the lotion into her. Massaging her back, he slipped his hands under the straps of her bikini while moving down her back and then shifted positions and moved down to her long shapely legs. Quickly glancing around to see if bystanders were looking their way and finding none, he slipped a hand under the hem of her panty to briefly squeeze a firm cheek.

It was times like this, he felt more than half his sixty-years of age. After being married to her for just over a year, she still exhilarated him!

"You better watch that, sailor boy," she playfully scolded with a giggle, as he quickly withdrew his hand. Issuing a chuckle and patting her cloth covered bottom, he continued his task of applying the tanning lotion to her legs.

In glancing around, he had seen that except for a few sunbathers dozing and enjoy the rays, as well as several lap swimmers in the pool, they were alone. They were on the expansive and open 15

th

deck of the

Allure of The Sea

. Larger than an aircraft carrier, the massive Royal Caribbean cruise liner was a bustle of activity, at mid-day. All except their little oasis. It was the casual eye in a storm of activity. Tranquil, he thought, which was what he liked.

They had arranged this cruise as a much overdue honeymoon. With nearly a full manifest of 6,000 passengers, the decks were alive with a broad mix of ages and after being onboard for a few days, they had discovered the area and decided to claim it as their own, for relaxing in the sun.

There were only a handful of other people in the area at that time of the day. Many of the other passengers were enjoying lunches, brunches or gathering in the more popular beach pool activity areas or simply strolling along the polished teak decks and enjoying the Caribbean sunshine. It surprised him that they were on a floating city, where things went on nearly round the clock -- much like a New York or Los Angeles. Quite a difference compared their quiet corner of Idaho.

Turning over onto her back, Sharon reached for her mirrored sunglasses, put them on and laid back, pillowing her head on her hands. He marveled at how beautiful she was. Having just turned 60, she was still fit and had the looks that other women half her age would die for. She didn't need to dye her coppery, auburn hair that she wore boyishly short with long bangs, as nary a gray hair crowned her head.

Good genes, he had remembered her telling him, when they had met, during their high school reunion. Incredibly good genes, he mused with a wry smile.

After a moment, Sharon raised her head and chided with a seductive smile, "Well, don't stop."

Snapping back to the present he chuckled and reaching for the tube of tanning lotion, squirted some into his hand and began applying the lotion to her chest, stomach and legs. He never tired of exploring every seductive inch of her beautiful body. By the smile that crossed her lips, he could tell she was enjoying the attention as well. As he rubbed her lower abdomen, he let his fingers slip beneath the hem of the swimsuit's panty and brush the tuft of pubic hair that lay beneath. His wife issued a soft coo of enjoyment, as he returned to his labor.

Soon her body was sleek, and the sun reflected in lustrous accents, highlighting her fit and well-toned frame. Breathing deeply, she smelled wonderful. Michael leaned down to kiss her and he whispered, "You my dear, smell good enough to eat."

After returning the kiss, she cooed provocatively, giggling, "I think I'll have to take you up on that offer later."

Sitting up straight Michael looked around again and observed, "Honey, you were right. This is nothing like the ships I'm used to," in wonder.

Propping herself on her elbows, Sharon said, "Well, Captain Richards. This is what a

real

cruise is like." She then sat-up and shifting her legs, straddled the lounge chair and taking the tube of lotion, began applying it to his deeply tanned, muscular chest and shoulders.

As she admired his physique, she recalled what a whirlwind their first year together had been like. After a small civil marriage ceremony, she had jumped into learning the role of Program Coordinator at 'Becca's Place with both feet. She learned that running a non-profit the size of Michael's gift to his deceased first wife was a lot different than simply sitting on the board of directors. Day-to-day management was hard work, but she reveled in it and had loved every second.

He had told her how amazed he was at her ability to adapt and how comfortable she was around all the kids they served, each with special needs. She had told him it was natural for her, being a foster kid, but he knew it was also because she genuinely cared. The kids loved her back for that and had given her the cherished title of 'Miss Sharon'.

For their first Christmas together, Michael surprised Sharon by flying her kids and their families to Idaho to stay with them. Sharon's grandson Jimmy loved Grampa Mike's log cabin in the snow and was enraptured when he beheld the massive tree they had decorated. Michael also got the chance to finally meet Sharon's son and daughter-in-law, who by this time was very pregnant. It was a joyous time for Sharon and one that he was glad he could bless her with.

In their busy schedule of day-to-day activities, they did take time-out for themselves. They went on many overnight campouts, as Michael taught her the ropes of many of the outdoor activities at the ranch. Through trial and error, she discovered that she loved tent camping on the ranch's expansive property and all the other activities of the youth camp but asked that they set aside some time for a proper honeymoon, soon after the camp's summer season was completed. Much to Michael's chagrin, she requested a cruise.

Michael grunted in satisfaction at the massage he was receiving as she enjoyed the feeling of her husband's broad chest. Her husband's remark caused her to smile at the recollection of their first real disagreement -- fight she corrected herself, as husband and wife.

They had been in his study at the time and at the mention of the word 'cruise', Michael had motioned behind his desk to one of the bookshelves in the display case that contained models of many of the navy ships on which he had served. "A cruise," he balked, "Do you not remember what I did in my former life," he asked rhetorically.

"Dammit, Michael," she said placing her hands on her hips defiantly, "It's not the same thing. You'll love it."

Their disagreement lasted most of the day, with each of his points being deftly countered. He finally relented and lifting his hands in surrender, said, "You win. I'll make the reservations."

She walked over to him and embracing him, whispered, "Thank you," and kissed him on the cheek.

Later that night, she had come to him with a peace offering. She was wearing only her black silk robe with the sash untied and was bearing a bottle of Cabernet and two wine glasses. "Want to take a bath," she asked. Looking up from some papers and seeing her at the door of the study, he immediately desired her. They spent a wonderful evening enjoying a long bath together and then very satisfying foreplay and sex.

Afterwards, she had straddled him and laid against his chest and he had enfolded her in his arms. After several moments of blessed silence, she had broken it by saying, "I'm sorry for being a bitch."

Giving a chuckle and kissing her coppery hair, he replied, "You weren't being a bitch. I was being the idiot," he said and explained, "I've spent a good portion of my adult life on ships, and I assumed the experience of a cruise ship would be the same as a Navy one."

Turning her head and resting her chin on her hands, they were almost nose to nose. Pursing her lips, she brushed his with hers, causing him to laugh. He moved his strong hands down her back and took a butt cheek in each hand and began kneading them gently.

Sharon responded, "That feels amazing," and then followed with, "I wish I could give you a baby," as her eyes became misty with tears.

Taken a back, Michael replied, "That would be amazing, but you're all I need," and embracing her again, he hugged her close.

As he comforted her, he whispered, "Even though I'm not a real dad, I have hundreds of kids here."

A week ago, they had flown to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. She had wanted to arrive a couple of days early, to explore the Miami area and enjoy the South Florida sun. They booked a room near the Ft. Lauderdale canal and stayed at a lovely Marriott, near the cruise ship terminal. The day before their cruise started, they were enjoying a leisurely morning on their balcony after breakfast. Michael had been reading the paper and Sharon, after coming out of the shower was standing at the railing in her black robe, enjoying the scenery and letting the morning breeze dry her hair. Suddenly she had exclaimed, "Michael look, there's a navy ship coming in."

"Uh-huh," he mumbled as he finished the article he was reading.

"Michael," exclaimed Sharon trying to get his attention, "It has a 79-up front," and finished with, "Doesn't one of your models have that number?"

That caught his attention. He set his paper on the table, weighing it down with his Marriott coffee cup and stood to step by her side at the railing. 20-floors below and about a quarter mile away, Michael saw a sleek gray destroyer was entering the canal from the Atlantic and was accompanied by two tugs, which would help guide it to its pier side berth. Lining the rails were sailors dressed in pristine white uniforms. Painted on the bow was a large number 79.

"Well, I'll be damned," he exclaimed, "It's the Big May!"

Pointing down at it and turning to look at Sharon in amazement, he added, "That's my old ship. I retired off her."

As they watched, it slowly glided past them, looking down and around, they could see other people were watching it pull into port as well. Michael put his arm around his wife's slim waist, and she leaned into him, hugging him in return and put her head on his shoulder. After it cruised past, she wondered out loud, "It would be nice to take a tour of it."

"I don't see why not," he observed, "Let's give'em a couple of hours to tie-up and get settled and then we'll drive over and find where they moored."

They then spent the rest of the morning on their balcony enjoying the glorious south Florida morning. A few hours later after a light lunch, they rode the elevator to the lobby. He in khaki slacks and a light blue polo shirt and her in khaki capris and a floral blouse. Exiting the lobby, the valet brought their rental convertible out front.

Having driven around for the two-days, Michael was familiar with the lay of the land, but asked the attendant as he tipped him for the location where the navy ships docked. After a short drive, they parked outside the gate where the

USS Mahan

was tied-up. Spectators old and young were admiring the ship and Sharon was amazed at its size, as it had appeared so small from their balcony.

Beyond the fencing the sleek warship was tied to the pier. Even from a short distance she could see the activity on the deck, as the sailors went about their duties and she could hear the low hum of the various ships system. It reminded her of the purr of some large and lethal cat. There were two sailors on duty at the gate and as they approached together, Michael handed them his ID card.

"Good afternoon," said the young Petty Officer and saluted after seeing the rank of Captain on the laminated card, "What can I do for you, sir."

With a smile Michael nodded, "I'm Michael Richards. I was this ship's first Captain. I was hoping I could show my wife around if that's possible."

Upon hearing this, both sailors straightened and became serious. They each gave Michael's ID card a second glance. "Yes sir, Captain," said the older of the two and picked up a radio to speak with a more senior officer. Sharon was extremely impressed with their professionalism.

Glancing over to the stern of the ship, they could see a bustle of activity occurring. Soon the Petty Officer said, "Captain Richards, you can go aboard. Welcome back, sir," and saluted.

Michael smiled and returned the sailor's salute and motioned for Sharon to go first through the gate. As they began walking across the wide metal accommodation ramp, over a loudspeaker they heard several bells ring and the announcement, "Captain United States Navy retired, arriving."

Before they stepped down onto the deck of the ship, Michael turned to face the stern of the ship and salute the flag. He stepped down and then held his hand out to help her onto the ship. She could see all of this had made a big impression on Michael, as he reached-up to brush a few tears away from his eyes. The feel of ship's deck brought so many memories back in a rush of emotion.

An older sailor in a white uniform that was cut differently from the others stepped forward, saluted and said in a gravelly voice, "Captain Richards, I'm Senior Chief Henderson, The Officer of the Deck. Welcome back to the

Mahan

, sir."

Michael returned his salute and introducing Sharon said cheerfully, "Thanks for letting us pay you a visit, Senior," and offered his hand.

Giving it a firm shake the Senior Chief replied, "Captain Carter is still aboard sir, and asked for you to wait here for her."

Before Sharon could speak, another young sailor nearby shouted, "Attention on deck! Captain on the Quarterdeck."

Everyone around her including Michael came to attention. She turned and saw a stocky-looking, petite brunette, who she guessed to be in her mid-forties exit one of the hatches nearby and walk toward them. She was dressed in a crisp white uniform. Black boards were at the shoulders of her blouse that had four gold stripes. She also had several rows of colorful ribbons that decorated the left breast of the uniform blouse.

The Senior Chief snapped a quick salute, which she returned as she exclaimed, "Well, I'll be god damned! It's good to see you, Captain Richards," smiling brightly as she saluted, and Michael presented her his hand in greeting. Sharon was amazed. Obviously, she knew her husband in some way.

As the Senior Chief stepped away to manage the rest of his watch, Michael acknowledged him and then turned to introduce Sharon by saying, "Honey, this is Karen Carter. She was a young Ensign when I last saw her on this very ship."

Karen laughed out loud and exclaimed in mock embarrassment, "Oh God! I was hoping you'd forgotten."

Sharon was amazed that Michael knew her and that a woman commanded a warship. After chatting, Karen showed them to her combination stateroom and office, which was small but tastefully decorated.

As they had walked along the main deck, Sharon's eyes darted around and she asked Michael about everything she saw, being that this was the first navy ship she had visited. Entering the tight passageways, it felt as if she was on some science fiction space vessel. Outside of the Captain's stateroom was a large plaque mounted to the bulkhead, with the names of the ship's former commanding officers and Sharon saw that Michael's name was first on the list.

After they settled into the plush leather chairs a steward brought in a coffee service and snacks. As the hot strong brew was poured, Karen said, "Captain, you left us a mighty fine ship."

Waving a hand, Michael said, "Please call me Michael," as he accepted a cup and sipped it, savoring the taste.

Sharon accepted a cup of the hot brew as well and asked how Karen knew he husband. She explained that the

Mahan

had been her first command and she had served under Michael, as a junior officer in the Weapons Department.

Michael chuckled and nodded in agreement. After a moment of thought he told Sharon, "Honey, she set a land speed record, earning her SWO Pin, her Surface Warfare Officer designation."

Guffawing at the remark, Karen continued, "After serving on a few other ships and staffs, I made Captain and was offered this ship as my first command," patting the arm of her chair in pride, she finished by saying, "Who could pass that up!"

After a little more idle chatting, there was a soft knock at the door. Karen rose and opening it, motioned a young male officer into the room. Michael saw he was a Lieutenant. Karen said, "Michael, this is LT Larry Anderson. He's our Command Duty Officer, today and I've assigned him as your tour guide."

Michael rose and accepted the hand the young officer presented as Karen said, "Larry. The Captain knows this ship even better than me. Take him and Mrs. Richards wherever they want to go. I'll have the XO cover for you, for a while."

They spent almost the entire afternoon walking around the ship. Sharon was amazed at the sights, the sounds, and the smells. Although most of the crew was on liberty, they had the chance to meet several of the sailors who were on duty. They got to see the bridge and Michael took a picture of Sharon sitting in the Captain's chair and standing at the ship's wheel, as a young female Seaman explained how the ship was steered. She was amazed at the elaborate, almost science fiction Combat Information Center. When she was told of the combat power of the vessel, she was clearly impressed.

They toured the wardroom where the officers dined and the enlisted galley where the evening meal was being prepared for those on duty. Sharon got to ask questions and was even asked to do some taste-testing. She was stunned at the tight quarters of the living spaces, even for the officers. It was a completely different world to her.

As their tour ended and LT Anderson led them back to the Quarterdeck, the Senior Chief approached them with a gift bag. Presenting it, he said, "Captain, the CO thought you and the missus would enjoy some swag."

Chuckling, Michael accepted the bag and opened it. From it, he withdrew a set of baseball hats with gold leaves on the brim and a set of coffee mugs in boxes. He thanked the Senior Chief and placed one of the hats on his head and with a big smile put the other on her. She beamed at the gesture and draped an arm around her husband's waist and asked the Senior Chief to take their picture. Afterward, Michael shook his hand and thanked him.

She asked if she could give him a hug, which he gratefully accepted. "Thank you for your service," she said and kissed his cheek.

In a husky voice full of emotion Michael said, "Senior, request permission to go ashore," and saluted.

"Permission granted," said Senior Chief, coming to attention as he delivered a crisp salute, finished with, "We'll take good care of her, sir."

Michael turned to help her cross the brow, as the big brass bell on the Quarterdeck was rung. A sailor spoke into a wired microphone that blared throughout the ship, "Captain, United States Navy Retired, departing."

When they reached the pier, Michael turned and gave the ship one last look. She hugged him close and whispered, "A very impressive ship, for a very impressive man."

He brushed some tears from his eyes and looking at her, mouthed 'thank you'. They walked through the gate and the sailors again saluted them. Michael returned their salutes and asked if he could shake their hands and thanked them for their service.