Introduction.
My Daddy is the captain of a cruise liner. Since I have no Mama, I often have to go to work with him. Sounds like fun, doesn't it? Well it's not. I'm eighteen years old, and sometimes these cruises go on for weeks. If you were eighteen years old, would you want to be stuck on a ship surrounded by strangers your whole summer – almost all of them adults or little kids? Cos trust me, not many eighteen year olds take cruises, and there's a very good reason for that. They'd rather be on Ibiza getting drunk and feeling each other up on the beach, and so would I. God, so would I!
That's why this Summer, things are going to be different. I've decided it's time to make my own fun. Poor Daddy, he thinks I'm still eleven – he doesn't realise I'm not going to satisfied by the chance to wear his captain's hat, or to eat at the captain's table with rich and beautiful couples now and then. He would be shocked to learn that I now notice the sailing instructor, and his friend the valet, when they finish they shifts and whip off their shirts and execute perfect swan dives into the waiting sea.
The sailing instructor's name is Spiro – as the name suggests, he's Greek. He's about thirty, with thick dark hair, tanned skin, and broad arms and shoulders from hauling on ropes and sails all day. The women on the ship all cast him covert glances as he goes by, and his sailing lessons are always fully booked up. I know he fucks some of them, even married ones, in the hold of his training boat. They always emerge smiling. I want to know what he does to them down there. When I walk past him in my bikini I feel his eyes following me. Once I looked back suddenly and caught him at it, but when I raised the haughtiest I eyebrow I could manage at him, he only smiled smoulderingly and then looked deliberately away.
The valet, on the other hand, is American and his name is Robert. Rob. I think he's a college student, studying something-or-other. He's very tall, with sandy blond hair, and his body is lean and hard. He's gregarious, always flirting with the women, making the men slap his back and the kids laugh. He flirts with me too, but always in a rather carefully avuncular way.
I should tell you something about me. I'm eighteen, I already said that. My mama was a Latina, and I have her long thick dark hair, and pouting lips. I've lost some weight in the last few years, but not where it matters – my boobs and arse just keep getting rounder, rounder and riper. Spiro has noticed, and Rob has noticed, and if I was not the Captain's daughter – if I was one of the bar girls, or one of the sluts from the kitchens – I just know they wouldn't be holding back.
But this summer, things are going to be different.
Chapter 1.
Oh. My. God. I said this summer would be different. I didn't know how different. I don't even know where to begin. The girl that wrote the words above was just a child. Now, thanks to Spiro and Rob, I am so totally a woman.
OK, let me start with Spiro. I wanted him, and I was more sure of him than I was of Rob – I had seen desire in his glances, and I knew he was highly sexed. So I turned my attention to him first.
I waited until the night of the ship's ball. Spiro looked hot in his black jacket and white open necked shirt. I watched him downing a few drinks, though he was far from drunk. I filched a few myself, and bided my time. I looked hot too. I had chosen my outfit carefully – a short, butt-hugging red skirt, a wide black belt, and an off-the-shoulder white blouse, and big hooped earrings. My hair I left loose. As the night wore on, the lights were turned down lower and the music got a little slower and sexier. I watched Spiro gracefully detaching himself from an attractive middle aged blonde woman on the dance floor, and make his way toward the bar where I was standing.
I watched him from beneath my eyelashes, and when he glanced my way he gave his usual appreciative, smouldering appraisal.
"Why are you not dancing,
glika
?"
I flicked my hair and smiled coyly. "I'm just waiting for the right offer, Spiro."
"And has it not yet come along?"
"That depends. Are
you
offering?" I leaned forward a little. The loose neckline of my blouse gaped enticingly, offering a glimpse of plump suntanned cleavage.
