Thanks to Ravenna933, as always, for her work editing this story into the form you see below.
The next morning dawned with the ship still under steam. I awoke with morning wood, barely conscious of anything except the breaking dawn trying to find its way through the curtain of our cabin, the throbbing rod between my legs, and the naked woman sleeping beside me. We'd somehow wound up spooning in the night, and my cock was now perfectly aligned with Lauren's butt crack as my hand rested between her breasts.
Still half-asleep, and without really being conscious what I was doing, I started grinding gently against her, just enough to start releasing some of the unbearable tension I was feeling between my legs. Lauren's breathing was still deep and unchanged, and her soft, warm skin felt so good against my sensitive penis.
After a few minutes Lauren stirred slightly, and I realized she was awake. She slowly grabbed down between her legs and pulled my cock between them, and suddenly I felt intense heat and wetness, coating her inner thighs. I thrust into her thigh gap a few times, straining to make contact with her hot vulva, as she then moved my hand directly onto her breast. Her erect nipple poked the palm of my hand firmly.
Oh, shit.
Suddenly fully awake and aware, I bounded out of bed, cock flopping in protest. Lauren rolled over, still half-asleep.
"...What?," she mumbled. She noticed my dick. "Oh, good morning."
"We're playing with fire here, Kovalenko."
"Fire's fun to play with," she said sleepily. She reached a hand down between her legs, then pulled her hand up, examining the wetness coating her fingertips with interest. "Girls get morning wood too, you know. One of my girlfriends calls it 'morning dew'."
I turned and walked to the bathroom, hopping into the shower on cold, and staying there until my erection was gone. When I came back into the room, Lauren was sound asleep again, so I dressed quietly and made my way up on deck.
I was up on the Lido eating breakfast and nursing my second coffee of the day when a message came over my phone. It was Danielle.
Are you going to be going to the beach today?
she asked.
Of course,
I responded.
Maybe we can hang out then. I'm just getting ready in our cabin but we're planning to be on one of the first tenders. Meet you in the lobby at 10?
Sounds good,
I texted back, then went back to the cabin. Lauren was awake, but still laying in bed nude.
"Tenders start at 10 to take us ashore to Half Moon Cay. What are you thinking about doing today?" I asked.
"I might just stay here," she answered, evasively.
"Is everything okay?"
"It's fine," she said icily, rolling away from me.
I knew from years of experience that Lauren had moments where she'd clam up and shut down. It was one of my least favourite aspects of her personality, and whatever had triggered it out of all the possibilities over the past few days, I knew better than to try to break through the barrier she'd erected. When she was ready, she'd be herself again like nothing had happened.
I gathered my things for the beach and headed down to the lobby, meeting Emily and Danielle there.
Half Moon Cay, also known as Little San Salvador Island, is a 10 sq. km private island in the Bahamas owned by the Carnival Corporation. From the first view as we climbed into the shore tenders - the small boats that ferried passengers between ship and shore in the absence of a pier large enough to accommodate the
Carnival Liberty -
the island was one long, crescent-shaped beach, with a little bit of lush greenery in the background behind the white sand. The water was an impossible shade of turquoise, a colour I wouldn't have believed existed in real life. There was no sign of human habitation past a few low buildings on the beach, and I had the thought that it was one of the Caribbean's thousand identical islands like this one on which Columbus had landed on in 1492.
Scores of mainly-Filipino employees were already on land, manning the pubs and pushing carts of food and restaurant supplies to cater lunch later in the day. We were among the first passengers to alight on shore, facing hundreds of empty chaises longues in the foreground, then an arcing empty beach disappearing down towards a small rock formation at beach's end.
Emily and Danielle led on to a spot near the end of the chaises, then set up our towels and went swimming. I was a little worried about things being awkward with Danielle, but she betrayed no sign of anything amiss after our conversation the night before. Emily kept up a stream of chatter about nothing in particular as we splashed and played in the warm water. It was my first time seeing Emily in a bikini, and I admired how fit she was - she had rock-solid abs and scarcely an ounce of extra fat. Her body was lean and toned, with a relatively flat chest and small bottom.
After some time playing in the surf, we came in, and I noticed two young men sitting in the chairs adjacent whom the girls clearly knew. I introduced myself and discovered they were Liam and Oliver from Oregon. Oliver was tall, blond, and handsome. He had the chiselled physique of a Greek god, the kind of man who could have done modelling. Liam had dark, shaggy hair and was shorter, with a neatly-trimmed beard. Both were muscular and fit - lacrosse players, I later found out.
"Missed you last night in the club," said one of the boys to the girls, ignoring me entirely.
I soon gathered that these two guys were the ones that Emily and Danielle had been flirting with the first night in the ship's dance club. I stayed out of the conversation from that point on and didn't really eavesdrop, instead choosing to tune out and relax while working on my tan.
I must have lay there for at least ten minutes before a shadow blocked out my sunlight. I opened my eyes to see Danielle towering over me.
"Earth to Sean, come in please," she said.
"Sorry, spaced out there," I apologized. "What's up?"
"Do you want to walk down the beach with me?"
I looked around and saw both boys and Emily had disappeared. "Where are the others?" I asked.
"They went to the bar. I told them I wasn't ready to drink at 11 AM, which is true, but I'd also like to talk again. If you'd like to."
"Of course," I smiled.
I gathered my things and put my sandals on, and we started meandering down the beach.
"So..." I began, smoothly.
"You gave me a lot to think about, mister," Danielle accused.
"Good thing or bad thing?"
"I don't know," she said. "I woke up this morning feeling both relieved and guilty. I think for sure I've decided to break up with Andre. I won't be able to make a final decision until I see him again, but I can't get your words out of my head. He doesn't offer me anything that I can't give myself, except money and a penis. Which, as useful as those things both are, aren't exactly irreplaceable."
I smiled. "I don't think I gave you the answer. I just helped you figure out what you already knew."
"You're exactly right," she agreed. "But I still feel insanely guilty for kissing you last night. It's still cheating, even if I have decided to break up. And I hate lying to Emily about it. We tell each other everything. I'm not used to keeping secrets from her."
"She really wouldn't understand?"
"She thinks my relationship is just like hers, which means she would no more understand my breaking up with Andre than my suggesting she break up with Milos." Danielle sighed. "She's a great friend, but she doesn't exactly have a lot of empathy sometimes."
"Makes sense. For me, I don't want to be the man that causes you to cheat on your boyfriend, but I don't think a single drunken kiss is unforgivable', I said. "Mistakes happen, and no one will ever find out about this one."
"I know you won't kiss and tell," she said honestly. "I'm worried about the rest of the cruise."
"Why?" I asked. "Nothing else is going to happen if you don't want it to."
"Not with you," she agreed. "I trust you won't take advantage of me. If you were going to, you would have last night. But I don't trust myself, and I don't trust these other predator boys out there looking to score. Liam and I were flirting like mad in the club the other night, and I would have fucked him if I'd had the opportunity. He's single, he's got no reason not to do it."
"Do you want to bang him?"
"Not really," she said. "He's a typical fuckboy type, say whatever it takes to get your panties off and then ghost you afterwards. But I've never had a one-night stand, and my accepting that Andre and I probably aren't going to last forever has made me conscious of other options in a way I've never felt before."
"That makes sense."
"Can I tell you something that might get me into trouble?" Danielle coyishly bit her lower lip.
"Of course."
"Liam was fun to flirt with, but he's really not my type. But I felt more electricity in that one kiss with you than I've felt in
years
with Andre."