I got the idea for this story a few months while on an actual cruise with my wife. I was standing at one of the bars just like I describe. I met a couple and we shared a lengthy conversation. The next day the man and I met up again at the same bar. A pair of women had just hit on my friend. When I walked up, they hit on me. I thought it amusing. When they left and the friend's wife arrived, we laughed about it all. A pervert like I am, I began to think about the possibilities. Over the next few days, I began to formulate the beginnings of this story. Then, when I went back to cruise on the same ship to start writing.
Of course, I will not name the cruise line nor the actual name of some of the bars as that would identify the ship to a savvy cruiser.
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I stood, leaning on the counter of the Roundhouse bar. Despite it not even being noon yet, the bar was busy. The ten bar stools around the three quarter circle were filled with half drunk asses. I stood like the rest of the twenty or so patrons holding my place. I kept an eye out for my target. I glanced to my right. The concierge and guest services desks forty feet away were busy.
This morning the line generally consisted of ten to fifteen people waiting to voice their concerns. This was our first day at sea and each of the passengers who had one of a myriad of issues would be taken care of quickly and efficiently by a trained staff who had heard it all and were ready to make it better.
The cruise ship's staff were mainly foreign to the majority of the passengers but English was the spoken language. The personnel who manned the guest services desk were experts. I knew how adept the cruise staff was to make sure every one of the passengers had as happy a cruise experience as possible. I watched as each person walked away knowing whatever question he'd had was now settled. Their concerns had been answered. Virtually every person was satisfied with the service.
I once imagined myself walking up to the counter and asking the (usually female) staff on hand if I could have someone, preferably her, come to my cabin and give me a blowjob. My fantasies had the woman not even blink as she told me she would see what could be done. Without a change of expression she'd explain she was not available but would pass my request along to her supervisor.
I snapped out of my reveries as my targets approached. I had planned to be already settled in place when we ran into each other again. We had first met in the terminal holding area awaiting the announcement to board the ship. A few hours later I managed to run into them again at one of the twenty bars the ship offered. The first time we engaged in a short conversation. The second time, I was invited to join them in the dining room. Three times in twenty four hours for me to find them would have been a little much. I wanted them to find me rather than appear I was seeking them.
I really did not need to have further direct contact. I could do my surveillance from anywhere. But I found myself unexpectedly intrigued by my targets. We'd talked about this particular bar being a good one with plenty of space and convenient to the elevators. It was also along the route between their cabin and the dining room where we ate during a short lull from drinking last night. Sure enough, they saw me and returned my wave.
"I thought we were starting early." Tom Bradshaw offered in greeting. "We skipped breakfast and wanted a drink or two before lunch."
I nodded. "I'm hungry myself, but they don't start serving in the dining room for another half hour. I don't really care for the buffet on the top deck. I was thinking after a couple Bahama Mamas, I'd be ready for lunch." He agreed, saying great minds think alike."How are you doing this morning? Let me see if I remember. You are Tom and this is Sharon and Karen." I said, smiling at the two blondes accompanying him. They acknowledged my recollection with friendly smiles.
"I'm generally pretty bad about names, especially when I've had a few drinks." I lied. "Not a good thing for a sales rep. For work I have to carry a cheat sheet to help me keep track of my contacts and their spouses." Karen smiled when I added. "But honestly, I have had no problem remembering your names. They are easy to remember. You girls are hard to forget."
Oh yes, neither of these two women would slip your memory once you met them. Both siblings were blessed with the type of bodies generally manufactured by repeated trips to the operating room. Generous, firm breasts, just the right amount of curves yet flat stomachs. Long trim, muscular legs fully exposed by the mid-thigh length shorts they wore now.
Their faces were not classically beautiful but were cute and had what could best be described as character. I happened to know neither had been medically enhanced beyond braces to straighten their teeth while teenagers. Since neither woman was a product of the knife, their good looks had to be a combination of genetics and a passion to keep fit. Their personalities matched their beauty. They seemed intelligent, sweet and friendly. Often, in my line of work a pretty face belied a heart of granite.
I knew far more about the women's histories than their medical status. Sharon was thirty eight and Karen a year younger. Both had shared the same last names all their lives. For the first twenty some odd because they were sisters. The last fifteen or so because they married twin brothers.
The fact they stayed married to the brothers for fifteen years told me the sisters were either 1. very patient and loving, 2. religious and did not believe in divorce, or 3. gold-digging bitches who wanted to make sure they stayed in the marriage long enough to get their full portion of the family money.
The fourth possibility, that they were dumb and naive was out of the realm of possibility. Both women had MBA's and held management positions in the company they built with their husbands.
