Motion of the Ocean

Erin first saw him on the top deck. She was in one of the swarm of lounge chairs on the highest point of the cruise ship called Passion of the Seas, and was admiring the beauty all around her. The sunset, the waves, the fluffy clouds meandering in a perfect blue sky, it was really something.

But then there was him.

He was by himself, wearing black board shorts and sunglasses. The rest of his body was a treat for the eyes; sculpted shoulders, six-pack abs, strong chiseled face, and a Marine Corps tattoo on his shoulder. His hair was short, and sun-kissed with specks of blond. His skin was bronzed by time outdoors, and he had the hands of a man accustomed to work. He sat comfortably by the railing, drink in hand, looking for all the world like a man at ease with the world.

Erin was in her favorite black bikini, and was proud of it. She had spent long hours in the gym for her figure, which she knew without false modesty was in a damn fine shape. Her long brown hair fell like tantalizing curtains over her 34C breasts, and her tan complemented her hair and eyes perfectly. Erin wore sunglasses too, and like to surreptitiously glance around at the meat market.

It gave her a voyeuristic thrill to be able to stare at the hunks around her without being noticed. Most of them were coupled up, but it didn't hurt anyone to look. Children surged around the deck and their long-suffering parents followed close behind, but she paid them no mind. She couldn't help imagining the touch of those strong hands on her shoulders, that stubble against her cheek, and she hungrily eyed the voluminous bulge in those shorts.

There were many groups of friends sitting around chatting, and Erin overheard one group discussing the man in Spanish. They couldn't know her fluency in that tongue, and she kept her expression neutral as they salivated over this pristine male specimen. They adjusted their bikini tops and stretched their legs out on their chairs to try to catch his eye. Erin smirked slightly over her book. Amateurs.

Erin sat her book down on her chair, and boldly walked right up to the railing next to him, leaning over it to admire the ocean, practically shoulder-to-shoulder with the man.

"Can I help you?" he asked, but did not pull away.

"Yes, you can buy me a drink," she replied casually, without looking at him.

He raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued. "I'll be right back," he said, and went to the bar. Erin glanced surreptitiously back over her shoulder at the other group of women that had been trying to entice him and reveled in the looks of shock and envy they sent her way.

People bustled while he ordered. A dad behind her in a ridiculous cowboy hat chased a large brood of noisy children. It all washed over her awareness without leaving a mark. She was a woman on a mission.

Shortly he returned with a Long Island iced tea. Still casual, Erin accepted it without a word. He leaned against the railing next to her, but still gave her personal space. That would have to change.

She wished so badly she could get a picture of this; with her looking smoking hot, next to this steamy man, with the ocean behind them. She couldn't well ask for a selfie though, that would ruin the moment.

Making a man wait was a delicate balance. A little waiting lead to anticipation and excitement. Too much led to impatience. Erin believed that she had it just right, so she spoke, "What do I call you?"

"Chester," he answered with a deep, purring timbre in his voice.

"Well Chesty," she asked, with a large dollop of teasing, "what does a girl have to do to get invited to your cabin?"

He smiled slyly. That drove Erin wild, and made her get wet. This was no boy, flabbergasted and anxious around a beautiful woman. This was a man who knew what he was doing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a keycard, then slipped it into Erin's bikini top, pushing it down snugly against her tit-flesh. The coolness and eroticism made her breasts get harder than the plastic of the card.

"One hour," he said, then sat back down in his chair as though the conversation had never happened.

Erin returned to her own chair as well, picked up her book, and resumed reading. The rectangle in her top was visible to anyone who glanced that way. After a few minutes, she got up, lifted her arms up high in a stretch that showed off her toned shoulders and firm breasts, and signaled to the man in the cowboy hat with the children.

"Yes dear, what's up?" he said with a goofy smile. Her husband was cute, in a Dudley-do-Right sort of way.

Erin showed him the keycard and he actually gave a quiet wolf whistle. She shook her head and said "Don't do that in public Steve, its not very flattering." He looked slightly chagrined, but still smiled.

"I have an appointment in an hour, don't wait up for me," she told him. He knew his part. "I'll take the kids someplace fun for a while, and you can tell me how it went."

Steve was loving, and dependable, but after this many years of marriage, he was a real bore in the sack. She valued her kids, and a woman does like to snuggle and watch movies on the couch sometimes. But sometimes she needs to get fucked.

She found the solution: husbands are for having family. Hookups are for having sex.

Sixty-five minutes after getting the card, Erin arrived at his cabin door. Again, she knew the value of waiting, of making him anticipate what was to happen. Erin had in her possession only three things: a dress, her heels, and the proffered keycard. No purse, no underwear, she would need none of it.

Erin opened the door without knocking, and the smell of roses greeted her. The cabin was lit only by a few candles, and the soft music of "Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak was playing. Chester lay on the king-sized bed in an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt and those same black board shorts from before. He dawdled on his phone, playing well the game they both shared. He obviously wanted her, but was willing to relax and take his time.

She wore a yellow silky sun dress with shoulder strings that left more of breasts visible than hidden. It swayed when she walked in a perfect provocative way. The dress had actually been a gift from a previous paramour and she knew that when she wore it, she looked like sex personified.

Chester came to her, standing at the foot of the bed. Leaving her standing, he walked around behind her, and gently kissed her neck. Erin closed her eyes and savored the feeling. He ran his fingertips along her exposed back, relishing in her touch. The gentle touch was so tantalizing; now he was making her wait.

With a single pull of the string at her back, the dress fell to the floor and she was naked. The soft candlelight, the erotic music, made the perfect atmosphere and Erin soaked it in. He gently brushed his hands around her back, her neck, her breasts. He stopped just short of the sensitive nipples, leaving her wanting more. He would repeat the process, holding her from behind in an embrace while his hands wandered carefully over her body. A naked woman's body was clearly familiar terrain for those hands.

At last he grasped her iron-hard nipples in his fingertips and she couldn't hold in her gasp of ecstasy. She reached behind her and felt those black shorts that stood between her and her goal. With a fierce pull, he was now naked from the waist down and she felt his erection in her back. He turned her around to face him, and kissed her passionately while their hands delighted in carnal touch.

The unbuttoned shirt hanging loosely on him still, she could see again his solid pectorals and abs. He pushed her gently, and she fell back upon the bed. The ship was rocking gently now, and Erin could feel the sway and she lay on her back and tried to keep her excited breathing down. Her treacherous excitement was showing through the calm and blasé façade.

He crawled slowly up her body, teasing again every inch until he found her wetness. Chester's tongue made her squirm with pleasure, as he expertly made her feel the joy of her womanhood. After having several kids she thought that she could never feel this way again, but it turned out she just needed the right conditions to make her want to squeal.

Her first orgasm came like waves crashing into her and she couldn't hold in a gasp anymore. Her legs wound tightly around him and she let it carry her away into a wonderland of sinful glee. But Chesty wasn't finished. He crawled up further and positioned himself upon her. His hardness could have been used to ramrod a musket, and he plunged it into her warm waiting flesh.

He started slowly. In fact, she realized he was actually timing his thrusts to the sway of the ship! The novelty of that thrilled her, and she began thrusting back in synch. His hanging shirt tickled her skin and she alternated between gasps and giggles and she rocked this man for all she had.

The second orgasm followed quickly on the heels of the first, but Chesty wasn't ready to let up just yet. His rhythm quickened, and the waning light of sunset through the curtains gave him a warm red glow that illuminated the desire on his face. She felt that he was ready to burst, and she made him wait just a bit longer, controlling her own movements and making it last. Finally, he could hold in no more and exploded within her. She pulled him in deeper with her legs around his back and felt his cock spasm within her body.

She was the kind of woman who knew how to milk every last sperm cell out of a man, and she did the Kegel movements she had practiced so much. His ball sack totally empty, Chester lay beside her with a contented sigh. Sweat glistened on both of their bodies.

After catching her breath, Erin sat up and stretched again. She put back on the dress, and was pleased to see that even mere minutes after sex, he had a look of lust again as he looked at her perfect ass. She winked flirtily over shoulder at him as she went to the door.

"Thanks," she said, "I needed that."

"My pleasure," he said. "See you again sometime?"

With a look of mock thoughtfulness, she walked back to his side, leaned close to his ear, and whispered in a provocative voice "maybe...". She gave a stroke to his cock as a good-bye gesture to remember her, then went on her way.

A few minutes later in her own cabin, she greeted her husband with a long kiss. This kids were in bed, and after cleaning up she snuggled in comfort and safety with him in their bed. The ship sailed on, and life was good.