Family cruise was going fine. We had some bad luck weather on embarkation day leaving out of Fort Lauderdale, but we had left that behind and actually it had been gorgeous ever since. A new itinerary for us, 7 night cruise with stops in Havanna, on to Jamaica, and then where every boat in the Western Caribbean seems to find its way sooner or later, Cozumel. Not that that's a problem, Cozumel is an outstanding port with so many different experiences to please anyone. It never gets old. It was day 5, a Sea Day en route to Cozumel, then a full day there and a final Sea Day before getting off the ship the following morning for the flight home.
Kids were having a blast, as they always do, and Lizette and I were actually getting along better than we have at some times in the past. Married life. "Nobody's perfect," I always tell myself. We actually got a prime spot on the pool deck thanks to setting out a few things on the way to breakfast, before the rush.
"Oh Darn!" Lizette sighed. "I forgot my sunglasses in the room. I know right where they are. On the bathroom counter. Would you be sweet and go get them for me? Oh, and here's my Seapass. On the way back, how about get us a couple Pina Colada's from the good pool bar, not the one that uses the cheap stuff?"
"Sure thing, Hun." I said, mustering a convincing non annoyed voice while pulling off my shirt. Married life. Go with the flow. Almost to the stairs, I remember our deal to not use the elevator and just take the stairs.
"Oh Fuck me!" I thought to myself.
Our balcony isn't exactly in the bowels of the ship. It's on the 9th deck, but this is a big ship and the pool is on 16, and we just got up here and settled.
"Fuck it. This one is on her. I'm taking the elevator," my thoughts continued while pressing the button.
"They're Blue," A familiar voice so distinct and sweet called.
It was almost haunting how happy and enthusiastic it sounded, because I knew from the first utterance it was a voice I've thought of every day for 3 years, wondering if I'd ever hear it again.
I exclaimed, "Holy cow, Katie! I know it's been 3 years, but I've thought of you every day. As if I could forget your eyes are brown."
As the doors of the empty elevator opened, she shoved me in, put her index finger to my lips, and said lustfully, "Not my eyes, silly. My panties. My thong panties."
This 'what's the spicy weather' type of deal was our morning greeting nearly every day for 6 electrifying months, if not in person, via text, before things got too complicated and she ran out of my life. I thought I had been living up to the point I met her. Wow, was I wrong. Nothing could ever be the same after that day. The camaraderie and release with Katie was not the new everything, but it was definitely what made me feel the most alive, and even turned a shitty day into a great one. So when she ran, all I could do was keep hope alive and try. She later told me my trying so hard pushed her further away and made her return all the more unlikely and harder for her.
Her hand on my lips dropped to my ass and pulled me close. Or rather pulled her close. I'm 6 foot, and reasonably well put together and she's just 5'3", so it's a matter of physics. It was clear regardless that she wanted to get close, very close. And that she wanted it to be her coming to me. I dropped my head down by hers and our mouths met, open. It was on. She speared me with that hot, silky tongue that tasted of Mimosa, and pressing 12 said, "My room's on 12. How about a tour?"
The doors opened and we were headed down the hallway giggling like drunk, giddy teenagers.
"Seriously Katie! What are you doing here?"
"Same as you, I guess. Family Cruise. I saw you by the pool 2 days ago. I wasn't sure what to do, or even what I thought. But I haven't stopped thinking about you since then. It's turned me so absent minded I forgot the Sunscreen onboard when we got off in Jamaica yesterday. Rest of the family had the good sense to spend some of the day in the shade. I figured my skin could handle it. Look at me. I'm a Lobster. Anyway, the other day at the pool, I didn't know what I wanted, but I'm sure now. I want you in me. Let's do what we do best and figure it out later."
With that, she shoved her hand down my suit and took hold. She wasn't disappointed. I was sprung. The fact that we still had 2 housekeepers to walk past didn't seem to faze her at all. Like I said, it was on. She was way past wanting. This was needing.
Opening the door while staring into my eyes she said sultrily, "Just so you know, once isn't going to be enough."
"When has that ever been a problem for us?" I retorted.
What she loved the most about that confidence is that she knew I could back it up, bring it all day. She loved confident talk almost bordering on brassy because let's face it, she wanted a man. She knew I thought the world of her, so if there was an occasional comment that could be interpreted the wrong way, she knew better and wouldn't. Anyway it was fuck time. And this is what she wanted to hear.
"See?" she said, sliding off her panties. "Blue. Just like I told you. Except for this wet spot. I guess that's Navy now," as she placed them in my hand.
"Wow they are wet, and hot!," I thought.
She was wasting no time. On a mission, she dropped her sundress to the floor.
"Oh, Baby! You are burned!" I said with empathy. "First slow down. Let me catch up," sliding my suit off. "Ok, that's better. Guess I'm going with the cruise theme. You've got the main sail at full mast."
I'm not sure who was more bug eyed. It had been a long time. Too long. She looked as good as ever. I told her often back in the day that I didn't know how she did it, always having been so beautiful, but that somehow she seemed to only look better as time went on. This became apparent from old photos she had shared with me. She looked great, and she knew it. She knew this was no silly flattery. From the look of her fully engorged breasts and nipples there was no doubt she thought I looked great too. Her tits looked a full size bigger than I remembered, and I remember accurately. They were always a real handful, and mouthful. Perfect. Of course they were. They were hers. Even with the red bikini top outlines from yesterdays faux pas with the sunscreen, the real life shit that happens-ness of it was alluring.
"Ok, this is so amazing if it's a dream I don't want to wake up," I thought.
I then said aloud, "Where is your family?," hoping as hard as I could to keep dreaming if I was.
"We have private flow rider lessons for the next 90 minutes. You see how burned I am. I can't be out in the sun. Relax, we have time. They won't be back any time soon."
She gave me another good shove and knocked me backward onto the bed. So surprised, I actually went down pretty hard and my meat was standing straight up for her. Full mast indeed! No surprise there. I've never needed inspiration in growing large at the right times. Now not a teenager anymore, it didn't happen too often at the wrong times and I was happy that those embarrassing days were behind me for the most part. Our eyes were now connected, as she began to lower her body. First time we met, what grabbed me instantly was the most beautiful and captivating set of eyes she had. Striking. Stunning. Timeless. Her high arching eyebrows, like two dark rainbows, only made them all the more incredible. The kind of perfection you didn't know could exist, until you've seen it. Eyes that were so beautiful, they left me wondering if I even knew how to dream if I hadn't yet dreamed of them. These were eyes you could get lost in, not be able to find your way out, and not want to. I guess this is what happened for me because there are parts of me which still haven't caught their breath since the moment we met all those years ago.
As she lowered herself the swollen, prideful head of my cock interrupted our eye lock. She began to edge closer and I eagerly anticipated her opening her lips, wide, to envelop the mouthful atop the pole between us, while looking up at me with those perfect puppy dog eyes. That would have to wait. She needed me in her pussy. She pounced like a jaguar. With equal precision and ferocity to the big cat, she hit her target. All the way down, balls deep, on the first stroke. A risky move, for at times we were a pretty snug fit, often taking a little while to get all the way home, even with significant foreplay. I guess she knew how wet and receptive she was. She knew to trust it, and she was right. We dodged injury and were off and running.
There are no bad positions for sex. Each has their own perfect moment. Cowgirl suited us just fine after our 3 year break. The break was for her fear of losing control, losing the will to resist fucking up her life over me, and just feeling mixed up and guilty over everything. It was just as hard on her as it was on me. She said someday she would return, but that it had to be on her terms, when she was ready. That time was now. Starting like that was the completion of allowing her to come to me. Being on top allowed her to show me how deeply she wanted us to kiss and fix everything with no words. Words were once again welcome, but no words for now was artful, and in keeping with the moment. When she reared back, well, there were those perfect tits for me to ogle and fondle, adorned with a few strands of her long, silky, midnight hair. This is how she needed those first few moments, and it was amazing. The walls of her cunt gripping me just right, so wet and hot. I was drinking in her lust as I could feel her nectar of passion which had already fully lubricated me now begin to ooze and roll down my balls.
I had to get my feet off the floor and onto the bed in order to better provide proper resistance to her grinding away. I managed to sit up on the edge of the bed still inside of her. I stood, holding her by the ass with one hand, with her arms loosely enough around my neck to allow eye contact.
"It's been a long time. Don't laugh. I want it missionary. Make me a lady."
