MITCHAWA
Cynthia flew to Seattle for an Alaskan cruise. After her divorce, she wanted to get as far away from Charleston, South Carolina as possible. Being abandoned by her husband of thirteen years for a younger woman had been devastating, something she never thought she would have to experience. She had fucked him from their very first date in college until the day before he left. The announcement he was leaving was a complete shock. She had given up her own life to make herself available to him, and entertain his wealthy and aristocratic family and friends. Becoming a stay at home wife only to be recognized for her volunteer and charity work, and by being a willing help-mate when he formed his own accounting firm. Everything for him.
The night before his announcement, he had come home late. She had already eaten and was lounging in the living room watching television. As usual she was braless, as he preferred, and in her barely there Everet Cami pajamas. Blue straps over her shoulders loosely held her plump breasts, they jiggled as she stood to greet him just as she knew he liked. Smiling, but without speaking a word, he stepped behind her. Kissing her neck, he placed his hand under the halter fondling her breasts, then removed the pajamas entirely.
"I'm ready," he said abruptly, "get the KY Jelly while I undress?"
She had placed lubricant in every room because she never knew when or where he would become aroused and want her. After removing his clothes and stripping her, he pushed her to the couch, spread her legs, and plunged into her well oiled pussy. She wasn't ready, but enjoyed the intimacy of his presence, and his stroking. His endurance was better than usual, bring her own arousal along farther than was usual. His eyes were closed. He was moving inexorably toward an orgasm with no apparent concern for her. His body stiffened, his back arched, he moaned as he jettisoned his sperm. When his spasms ceased, he slipped from her, retrieved his clothes, and went to the bathroom without a word.
When he returned, she had warmed his meal as usual and he ate. The rest of the evening, he talked about work, and she made no comments concerning herself. All she did was nod and ask an occasional question. He watched TV with her, and they went to bed after the 11:00 p.m. news.
The next morning, during breakfast of scrambled eyes, sausage, toast, and coffee, he asked, "Cynthia, do you like our life style? I mean, I work and you volunteer for the community. We go out occasionally, we entertain half a dozen times a year and we make love once or twice a week." Then, with concern and seriousness he asked, "Is that satisfying for you?"
"Yes, I like our life together. I've molded my life around your career, and have always provided for your wants and desires. I like pleasing you and the freedom and time you've given me to engage in worthy projects." she said, looking at him and wondering where this conversation was headed.
"Don't you ever think about changing how we live? Aren't you dissatisfied with something,, anything?" He asked quizzically, something she'd never seen in him before.
"I'd like us to do more things together." she said, "Maybe travel, spend more time at the beach, or in the mountains. Why are you asking me these questions? Is there a problem I don't know about?"
"Do you ever think about having a child?" he asked.
"I did when we first married, but you said you didn't want children. Yes, I'd love to have your child," she said, feeling good for the first time since the conversation started.
"Do you ever think about other men? Sexually, I mean?" He asked, looking away.
She thought for a minute, not sure how to answer. "Of course I do. All women do in one way or another, but I'm happy with you. You're an excellent provider, a good husband and lover."
Then abruptly, he admitted, not looking directly at her, "Cynthia, I'm bored with the business, with our life together, and with you."
She was shocked and felt tears welling in her eyes.
Finally looking directly at her, he went on to confess, "I've been seeing a younger woman for a while now. She's pregnant and I want to be with her and the baby."
Through her tears, she asked, "But, why? Haven't I done everything you've every asked of me? What have I done wrong? Haven't I satisfied you in bed?
"I know is sounds like a cliché, but it has very little to do with you and a everything else to do with me. I'm leaving. I want a divorce. I advise you to contact a lawyer, and sue me on the grounds of adultery. We'll divide what whatever we're worth, which is a sizeable amount. I'll be back this weekend to pick up my stuff. I prefer that you not be here." he finished. As he stood, and she had absolutely no idea why under the circumstances, he kissed her on the cheek.
Just like that, it was over, and was the last time she saw him until they met with their lawyers in tow.
The divorce settlement had made her more wealthy than she was previously aware, and she was escaping the friends who wanted to match her up with a Brian clone. She was also fleeing a hoard of single and married men who were obviously seeking only her physical and or financial assets.
An Alaskan cruise in late August would be full of older married couples. The Scandinavian Queen Cruise Line was known for its informal, laid back atmosphere. She would not be assigned an eating time or a table. There she would come to know and interact with passengers or crew, of which she had no desire to do. There were nine restaurants to choose from including the buffet, so she would be able to eat when and where she wanted. She wouldn't have to make any friends and could indulge herself in solitude. Her agenda was to do some sightseeing, a little shopping, and spend most of her time reading the library of books she had stowed in her luggage. Simple escape was the order of the day.
She came to enjoy the vast Pacific Ocean, the other ships sharing the water, the forests covering the limited flat shoreline and the more common rugged mountain peaks. All could be seen through the window of her penthouse suite on the fourteenth deck in complete privacy. And the cooler breezes were a welcome change from the heat of Charleston.
She avoided crowds, ate early or late, left the ship for several power shopping trips in Ketchikan, Juneau, and Skagway,, but the experiences were much less interesting than she'd expected. Disappointing really. T-shirts, jewelry, and locally made art work, none of which was worth the money. Therefore, she spent most of her time locked away in her suite reading and contemplating her future.
During the fifth night of the trip just after leaving Skagway, she was restless and unable to sleep. She began to long for something indefinable. She had an unexplainable knot in her stomach. Her need for intimacy was inescapable. Brian had been her last encounter, and it had been more than a year since they had parted. It had taken almost that year just for the divorce to become final. Now, all of a sudden, both her mind and body were ready.
To relieve the stress, she went for a five a.m. swim. She wore a bikini with a white top that barely covered her breasts and contrasted nicely with her dark long hair. The blue bottom thong nicely displayed her ass and rounded hips. A light blue silk robe covered her swim suit, and she carried a white towel.
He was in the pool swimming laps. His lanky body cut swiftly through the water. His strong, rapid strokes and precision turns revealed a swimmer's build: broad shoulders, thick chest, muscular arms and legs. She decided he would be the first stranger she'd ever tried to seduce. She swam leisurely in the lane beside his, and seated herself at the edge of the pool, waiting with her feet in the water.
He finally emerged from the pool shaking the water from his athletic body, removing his goggles and wiping his face and chest with a green and white towel. Glancing in her direction, he stopped short and asked with an accent she couldn't quite place, "Am I dreaming, or are you a mermaid?"
"That would be you dreaming, I'm afraid. I'm Cynthia Wade," she said, extending her hand, "I don't swim well enough to be compared to a mermaid."
"I'm Jacques Duval." he said, as he took her hand with a wily grin. "Well, you look better than that myth."
"Thank you," she said, holding on to his hand, "and you look to be an athlete."
"I swim a little." he replied, then asked, "Why are you swimming at this time of the morning? Is it late or early for you?"
She ran her other hand along the top of her bathing suit. "It's the perfect time for me."
As he observed her closely, he went on to ask, "Do you need some help?" drawing his hand across his chest.
"Would you like to help?" she teased, pushing a hand inside a cup of her bikini.
