I haven't always agreed with my wife on some of the decisions she's made in our twenty years of marriage. But I'll be forever in her debt for the promise she made to our twin nieces when they were in grade school. She told them, "When you guys turn eighteen, we'll take you on a cruise." At the time it sounded like an expensive, boring proposition. But back then our nieces were still little girls. They are young women now, as I found out on the 'birthday' cruise.
There's no doubt that Britney and Bev are twins. They have matching long, dark hair and matching tall, shapely figures that first got my attention about three years before the cruise. Although the girls are similar in appearance, their personalities are quite different. Britney is a bookworm—Bev is a party animal. She was the one we expected to have trouble controlling once she was set loose on the ship.
The cruise line we have used for ten previous cruises has a drinking age limit of twenty one. This was good news to us, distressing news to the girls. It wasn't until the second day of the week-long trip that I realized just how good the news was for me.
We flew to Miami and boarded the ship in mid-afternoon. The first job was finding our cabins. My wife and I reserved a balcony cabin and we put the girls in an inside cabin across the hall from us. They complained, of course, about the size of the room, the size of the closet, the size of the bathroom…ad nauseum. We asked if they wanted to go home. The room suddenly became acceptable to them.
Long before dinner on that first day, the girls were in their bikinis. I had seen them many times back home in t-shirts and little shorts that barely covered their sweet asses. But to see them for the first time in their new swimwear was a little bit of a shock. They were gorgeous and my forty-something cock reacted accordingly. It was going to be a long week, I decided.
Britney has always been my favorite. Besides her laid-back personality, which more closely resembles my own, she has always had a slightly better body than Bev, particularly up top. She likes to wear t-shirts that accentuate her breasts. They are perfectly full with flawless skin. They seem to beg you to touch them and squeeze them and the nipples are constantly pressing out against the material of her shirts.
And then there's her ass. God. It is so tight and rounded in just the right places. Her bikini showed just enough to entice any man of any age.
This is not to say that Bev isn't cute. They're twins, after all. And twins in bikinis are pretty much at the top of my list of favorite things.
The first evening went fairly smoothly. At dinner, my wife took it upon herself to remind the girls that their mother—her sister—would not appreciate it if we sent them home pregnant. They both assured her they were 'safe', so my wife could sleep better knowing she had done her job.
After dinner, the girls took off for the various lounges on the ship. We only heard from them one time before we went to bed, but that was fine. We trusted them…kind of.
It was the next morning, at breakfast, that I heard the first complaint about the drinking age limit. Bev, in particular, was outspoken in her grief. I found it kind of humorous myself, but tried not to show my delight in their angst. My wife and I tried to assure them there would be plenty to do on and off the ship to keep them occupied. It didn't seem to appease them much.
We had an island beach excursion that day that took most of the late morning and early afternoon. It was a beautiful day and I had a good time watching the girls…my wife…and every other babe I could get my eyes on. It was even fun watching all the guys stare at my nieces as they sunbathed and floated in the calm water on their rafts.
We got back on the ship around three in the afternoon. My wife was the first to use the shower so I decided to head down to the onboard computers to check my e-mail. As I was walking out of my cabin, I noticed that the girls' door was open.
"Hey! Uncle Steve. Do you have a minute?" I heard Bev ask.
"Sure," I replied, stopping at their room.
"C'mon in, we're dressed," she said.
"Darn," I said, pushing the door open and entering their tiny cabin.
Britney gave me a disgusted look.
"Close the door," Bev ordered. When I turned back around, she said, "We need to ask you to do us a favor. But if you don't want to, we get it."
I stared at her blankly when she hesitated. "Well?"
"Well…we're kind of bummed we can't get a drink. We tried everything with the bartenders last night, but nothing worked," she whined. "We're going to go nuts all week if we can't get just one drink, you know?"
I smiled. "Oh, sure. You guys would be a lot of fun to be around if you were hung over all day. They put that age limit there for a reason—to save the adults."
"We wouldn't get drunk," Britney chimed in. "We've gone to parties at home with alcohol around and we survived."
"I'm sure you have." I was looking more at Bev and the sheepish look on her face.
"Uncle Steve, we're begging you," Bev said. "Can you get the drinks for us? Maybe bring them here so we…or you…won't get in trouble?"
"Please," Britney pleaded.
As soon as I saw the precious looks on their gorgeous faces I knew I would do it. But my mind instantly started to plot HOW to do it.
What were the consequences? What were the opportunities?
They seemed a little worried at my delay in answering. Then I said, "IF I do this, you have to understand that I'll be the one determining how many drinks you get, and when."
Their eyes were already wider, anticipating that I might actually give in to their pleas.
"OK," they said in unison.
"I'll need assurances from both of you that you'll handle this like adults and not get any of us in trouble," I said.
"Of course," Bev said excitedly. "You can count on us."
Britney was nodding as she sat Indian style on her bed. God, she was beautiful.
Was it too obvious that I was looking down on the breasts trying to burst out of her tiny bikini top?
"Alright. I'll think about what kind of deal we can strike. I need guarantees from both of you," I said sternly.
"Anything," Bev said. "You name it."
"When do you want to start?" I asked.
They looked at each other and shrugged. "Tonight? After dinner?" Britney suggested.
I nodded. "It's a deal. I'll talk to you after dinner. I'd like to keep Jan out of this as much as possible."
They agreed, looking like they were about to explode with excitement.
"OK. See you later," I said, leaving the room.
As soon as the door was closed, I heard the yelps of joy inside. I smiled.
###
The girls were exceptionally cheerful at dinner, which I'm sure surprised my wife Jan. She certainly wasn't going to find out from any of us what prompted the good moods. But if things turned out the way I was beginning to plan it, everybody would benefit from this in some way.
