Recently my husband and I went on a cruise for the first time. It was only a short one, just five days, as we weren't sure how we would take to cruising. In the event we loved it - the ship was superb, the weather was lovely and we got on well with the people we met.
It didn't start very well because on the second day at sea Paul tripped and sprained his ankle. It was only a mild sprain and he could still hobble around. Oddly enough it did have one good side effect. Because it was a smaller ship lots of people heard about his minor accident, so people kept stopping to ask if he was OK. It actually served as an icebreaker and we became friendly with people much quicker than might otherwise have been the case.
Like many cruises it was geared towards couples, not families. Dinner each evening was a moderately formal affair, so people took a bit of trouble and dressed smartly. Afterwards there was a dance-cum-disco. Because of Paul's ankle we had to sit that out and I declined a couple of invitations to dance.
The people on the cruise were a real mixture. Mostly they were couples, but there were several women only groups (all of them older than me) and a good half a dozen single men. Paul got chatting to some of the single men and it turned out that they were all divorced or separated, rather than genuine bachelors.
The next night one of the single men protested to Paul that I shouldn't have to sit out all the dances. He insisted that I dance with him, so I did. After that I became a popular dancing partner and by the end of the evening I had danced with five different men.
Later back in our room I said to Paul that it seemed odd that they had been so keen on dancing with me rather than with any of the single women.
"You're the best looking woman in the room, so you can hardly blame them for wanting to dance with you."
I wasn't convinced by that, but didn't know what to say, so instead asked him if he minded the fact that I was off dancing with other men while he had to sit on the sideline.
"Not really," he said, "I want you to enjoy yourself, and anyway it's nice to know that my wife is still attractive."
The following night we sat with the same group and again I got regular requests to dance. I was polite and didn't refuse any of the men, but frankly three of them were rather dull, one was only so-so, but the other one, Mike, was good company and quite reasonable looking. We got along very well and I found myself chatting to him quite a bit.
After 11pm the dance turned to a disco, though it was hardly rave music and there was a heavy bias towards smoochy numbers. Near midnight Mike persuaded me out onto the crowded dance floor and we shuffled around to a slow number. He was holding me in his arms and we were chatting, then he began to move his lips towards mine. I froze and at the last moment he stopped.
"Oh God," I laughed rather nervously. "For a moment I thought you were going to try and kiss me."
"I'm sorry," he said, "I was going to try and kiss you. But what I really want to do is make love to you."
I gasped at that and walked away. I couldn't go back to Paul as he would realise something was wrong, so I headed for the nearest exit. Out on deck I went to the quietest corner and tried to clear my head. There were footsteps behind me.
"I'm sorry," said Mike, "I don't know why I said that."
"But you meant it didn't you?"
"Yes I did."
With that he took a step closer, took me in his arms and kissed me. At first I stood very stiffly, then he started to feel my breasts and our kissing became more passionate. His hand moved lower down the outside of my dress and stopped with his fingertips resting lightly, but unmistakably, on my pubic mound. He began to caress me and I knew I should stop him, but I did nothing. I was sure he was going to explore further, but the creak of a door brought me to my senses and I pulled away.
"No Mike, I do like you, but no."
With that I turned and hurried away. I threaded my way back through the dancers and returned to our table. I smiled at everyone and asked Paul if we could head back to our cabin. He obviously realised something was wrong because he agreed without asking any questions. As soon as we were out in the corridor Paul asked what was a matter. Not here I told him, wait until we reach the cabin.
"Is it Mike?" he asked. I nodded.
We were barely in the cabin before he grabbled my arm and demanded to know what had happened.
"Mike said he wanted to make love to me."
"Did he say that when you went outside?"
"Oh, you saw us go outside did you? No, he said it on the dance floor."
"So what happened outside then?"
I hesitated.
"Tell me Kim."
"He kissed me."
"And?"
"And he touched my breasts."
"What else?"
"He tried to touch me down there."
"Did you let him?"
"No, but.........." I stuttered and stopped.
"But what?"
I said nothing.
"But what Kim?"
"I wanted him to touch me."
"Where did you want him to touch you?"
"Down there."
"Down where?"
"You know where I mean!"
"I think I do, but I want you to say it."
"I wanted him to touch my pussy."
"Like this?" said Paul, sliding his hand between my thighs and gently cupping me through my knickers.
"No, not like that. I wanted him to put his hand inside my knickers."
"Like this?" said Paul, slipping his hand inside my knickers and running his fingertip along my pussy.
"Yes, like that."
"Then what?"
"Then he would slip a finger into my cunt."
I gasped as his finger entered my wet quim.
"Then what?"