Cruising 8

I have just come into our cabin on the cruise ship from my turn in the shower. It was satisfying in the way that a shower at the end of a long day (of sightseeing!!) usually is. But not entirely, because the shower is tiny. Pulling on the robe the ship provided, in the cabin I find my wife, Sarah, in her matching robe. She smiles, picking up on the sense of fun that's in the air.

As I hear the door to the tiny bathroom close behind me, she rises from the tiny couch and takes my hands in hers. We kiss, gently at first, then with more passion. She steps back a little, dropping my left hand. Keeping her grip on my right hand to tow me behind her, she tiptoes around the bed and out onto the balcony.

She draws me up to the rail. As the wind pulls at the flaps of my robe, I'm suddenly aware that it's the only thing covering me. I tighten the belt, and join her gazing out at the passing seas. The privacy screens between us and our neighbors on either side extend out to the rail, but don't block the view of anyone standing at the rail. At present, none of our neighbors are out; a rare moment of quiet after the sunset.

She turns to me, and we kiss again. Taking my hand, she leads me back toward the cabin, stepping around the deck chair that is, oddly, turned so it faces into the cabin. She whispers to me to sit.

Once I am seated, between my weight holding it and the screening from the privacy walls, the wind quits grabbing at my robe quite so much. Sarah perches daintily, crosswise on my lap, and leans her head on my shoulder. We sit, cuddling happily, for a few minutes. Finally, she rises.

Turning to me, she leans forward. I can't help but glance down her chest at the cleavage she reveals, and she chuckles as she notices. Her hand goes to my belt and unties it. She senses my nervousness as I glance back and to each side. I check if our neighbors have come out as I feel her drawing the belt out from around my waist, until finally it dangles from her hand. She stands and looks at me for a moment.

Then, she slowly walks around my left side. Standing behind me, her hand slides into the robe, pushing the cloth back and off from my left shoulder. Next, she draws my arm out of the sleeve. The whole time, she carefully makes sure the robe stays closed across my waist, even as my left arm sheds its covering. She kneels beside the chair, and pulls my forearm down to the armrest. Slowly, she ties one end of the belt around my elbow, securing it to the armrest. Then she pulls the tail forward along my arm, securing my wrist as well. Leaning forward, she takes the remaining tail of the belt and uses it to tie my left ankle tightly to the leg of the chair. And just like that, I'm immobilized on one side. The robe is still on my right shoulder and arm, and still closed at my waist, but...well, good feeling's gone.

She stands again, coming back around in front of me and kneeling. A fleeting moment of nerves crosses her face, but she quickly banishes it. She looks directly in my eye, holding my gaze. I can tell only in my peripheral vision that her hands have gone to her own belt, untying it. Still commanding my eyes to lock with hers, I sense her drawing the belt out from the loops and the robe falling partly open. She smiles, knowing how badly I want to look down.

Finally she leans forward and her eyes drop to my right ankle. I feel the belt fixing my ankle to the other chair leg, as I try desperately to catch a glimpse down the front of her robe. Between her knees holding the bottom flaps to the wooden surface of the balcony, and her long red hair hanging in front of me, I am disappointed. My ankle firmly trapped, though, she stands. A stripe of her body is now revealed, but hard to see as she stands backlit in front of the door to the cabin. The wind ruffles the robe somewhat, so I catch fleeting glimpses of her hips, the patch of red hair between, the curve of her breast as she walks around behind me again.

Repeating the move from my left shoulder, she pushes the robe off my right side and brings out my last free appendage. Once again though, she is careful to keep the flaps wrapped across my waist and tenderly allows me this modesty. I watch as she draws the tail of the belt up from my ankle, using it to trap my right wrist and elbow. Finally i am firmly tied, stuck in my little chair facing the cabin.

She leans down from behind me to breathe in my ear, knowing it tortures me. I moan involuntarily, knowing I cannot stop her. Her hands slide down my chest, staying on my skin and burrowing beneath the robe as she reaches my stomach. Her hands keep moving lower, the robe opening, reaching my hips, sliding across the tops of my thighs. She comes close but doesn't quite contact where I want her to, ignoring my rigid friend. She straightens back up, and as she does she flips the remains of the robe apart, leaving me fully exposed.

Now, two things at once. First, she whispers for me to lift up, and draws the robe out from under me. She stands in front of me, my robe casually across her arm now covering the lower part of her body, her own robe covering all but a stripe of skin between her breasts. As that is happening, I hear the door to the tiny bathroom open, and out steps Paolo, his hair still wet, a towel wrapped around his waist. He smiles at us, stretching out on the bed to face us. The Paolo we met in the bar a while ago, the one who boldly walked up to her and flirted, bringing her a drink and not caring at all that she was obviously with me. The Paolo she begged me to invite to our room tonight, telling me how it would be so fun for us tonight. His skin is dark against the white bedding, his muscled arm holds his head.

Sarah now heads into the room. I hear the rumbling sound of the sliding door, until it is pulled almost closed in front of me. My robe is tossed from her hand, and Paolo and I watch as she draws one curtain toward the opening left between the sliding doors at the center of the doorway, pulling it until it covers one whole side. Gusts of wind cause the edge to ruffle and sway in the six inch opening left on the sliding door.

She steps to the other side, and blocks my view by drawing the other curtain to the center as well. For a moment she is out of sight, but then her arm appears in the gap between the curtains, her robe dangling from it and then falling to the deck in front of me. I see her shadow moving on the inside of the curtain, and in a moment her arm reappears. A towel falls atop her discarded robe, to make clear to me that they are naked together while I sit helpless, naked, and tied just outside the room.

Now the open door and the breeze are my friend. Gusts push the curtains apart from time to time, flashing me briefly in light and giving me glimpses of what is happening, mixed with moments where all I get is sound. She's on her side on the bed, her back facing me, his leg wrapping around hers, as they kiss. Then she's on her back, cradling his head as his mouth finds her breast. Her moans now clearly audible to me over the wind. Now he lies atop her, grinding, her hips writhing trying to get him aligned. The noise I know so well, her moan when he slides into her.

One of her legs against his chest, he's gliding slowly in and out. Next she's on her knees, her upper body pressed to the bed, hands gripping the sheets as he slides into her from behind. The familiar sound of her orgasms. Her hands suddenly against the glass, her body pressed on the door, twitching with each of his thrusts from behind. Then gone again, then she's on her back on the bed once again. Her head is towards the window, he stands at the far edge of the bed holding her legs tightly to his chest. He's rhythmically thrusting into her, hard and so fast, clearly in the moment. The curtain falls back closed as I hear them crying out together.

The ship has turned somewhat, and no breeze ruffles the curtains any longer. There is no sound. I imagine them entwined on the bed, enjoying the afterglow. Their hands glide softly over each other, soothingly, caressing. But only in my imagination.

After a few minutes of quiet, the light in the cabin switches off. His hands come through the gap in the curtains, and the door closes. The click of the lock rings in my ears.