Tom slept late on Day III, St. Maarten. He awoke at 8, late for him. He was exhausted, having spent Monday shopping in St. Thomas, and that night with 3 women in 2 separate events.
He showered, went to full breakfast, not just the buffet, wanting to slow his pace down and enjoy the luxury of cruising. He was randomly assigned a table as he entered the Dining Room, and the 8 others at the table exchanged brief pleasantries, being from diverse groups, then lapsed into their own chats, which was fine with Tom: It gave him time to sort out the events so far.
The first night he had met Casey and Mona, and somehow wound up alone with Casey, getting a blow-job in what they thought was an empty lounge. It turned out, another couple had watched while looking for their own hideaway. Pretty wild for a forty-something.
The second night, Mona, the room mate had turned out to be as horny as her friend, coming to Tom's cabin for a round of wrestling that left her exhausted, but not Tom.
He went back out and met Ruby and Candy, two sixty-somethings who defied age and gravity and double-teamed him into his current state, worn out.
One group, who saved a chair was 2 men and a woman in their sixties. One was annoyed that Claire was never ready, always late, holding everyone up. The others hushed him. "When she gets here, you're just gonna say 'Hi Honey' like you always do, so don't fuss," The woman said.
"And besides," the other man said, "we don't have plans today anyway!"
With that, they heard, "Sorry I'm late, everybody." The complainer jumped up. "Oh, don't worry about it, Honey, we didn't mind at all."
The other two smirked at Claire, who sat across from Tom and smiled at him. "Hi, I'm Claire."
Tom stared, mesmerized. She was a black woman, about 40, tall, dark-skinned, with long black hair, pushed up under a straw hat. When she removed it, her hair tumbled down across her shoulders.
Tom wiped his mouth, and put out his hand, "Hi, I'm Tom." She took it and her smile grew, large white teeth contrasted against dark brown smooth skin. Her almond shaped eyes, were almost almond colored, and Tom assumed they must be contacts. Very captivating and attractive.
She ordered, and they spoke of spa treatments and whirlpools, things they could do today aboard ship. "How about you, Tom? What are your plans?"
"I've never been to St. Maarten, I thought I'd so some shopping, have a look around."
"You're traveling alone?" Claire asked.
He gave a brief synopses of his tale of woe, how his fiancee had backed out on the wedding, and he couldn't get a refund on the cruise, so he had come alone.
They all seemed genuinely sad for him, which wasn't his intention, but just to see Claire's expression was worth it. She looked as if about to cry. What a fox!
The breakfasts were served, and conversation showed that Claire was married to Henry, the complainer. She was his second wife, and he doted over her. The other couple were Henry's life-long friends.
Tom had more coffee, looking over the map of the island, which showed the shops and scenic spots, when Claire announced, "You know, we haven't been here in a while. I think I'll do some shopping, too, if you don't mind the company, Tom."
They were stunned, especially Henry. "But, I thought we'd get massages."
She patted his hand. "And you should, Baby. You'll be all loosey-goosey when I get back, and you can take me dancing! That will be fun, right?"
Tom just watched the discussion, then Henry resigned himself and said to Tom, "If you would be so kind, I would appreciate it if you watched out for my Claire. She has a habit of over-shopping, or loosing track of time. I'd hate for her to miss the boat."
Claire laughed, loudly. "Oh, Henry, you worry so much! I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself! But, Tom, it is more fun to shop with someone. If you'll have me, I'll buy you a drink?"
Tom looked around the table. He really didn't know where to go, and Claire sure seemed like fun, so what the hell! "I'll meet you on the dock in 15 minutes!"
He put on his 30-SPF so he wouldn't fry in the tropical sun, his sunglasses and Yankee hat, with sneakers and cargo shorts and tee, he looked just like a tourist. Off-ship, she stood to the side, the big straw hat and shades, her hair held back in a ribbon now. She wore a one-piece white swim suit, with a floral wrap. Her breasts shown from a thin sheen of sweat, cleavage everywhere. She waved and smiled broadly when she saw him.
They were loaded on the open-air bus where you are crammed together, and Tom could smell cocoa butter oils on her, she was so close. She spoke animatedly about St. Maarten, the shops, the market place, and did not seem concerned by their bodies so close,as if an every-day event. Ten minutes later, they off-loaded into the crowded narrow streets, and since 2 other cruise ships were in port too, it was especially jammed. She held his hand so they wouldn't separate.
His hangover was gone, and he thoroughly enjoyed her, laughing, stories about life, her previous career as a model before meeting Henry. They had known each other for 29 years, and when his wife passed away 4 years ago, he proposed to her. He spent on her lavishly, and allowed her freedom and money to do things she wished. She didn't mention sex, but Tom couldn't picture him keeping up with her, especially at their ages, her about 45, he found out, and Henry 68.
In and out of shops, with Claire trying on different articles, some very sexy. In one lingerie store, she tried an outfit on, and called him to the fitting room. "What do you think? I didn't want to walk out like this?" It was white, very sheer, so thin Tom could see right through it, and she had only put on the top. Her breasts stood high and firm and her nipples stuck out proudly.
He stared, and she laughed. "Cat got your tongue?"
"Yeah, something like that! It's... stunning!"
"So, do you think Henry will like it?"
"As long as you don't tell him you modelled it for me, he'd have to like it if he's still breathing!"
"Well, judging by your expression, if he doesn't, I can always wear it for you!"
