Have you ever met one of those people who just bubble with life? You know, the people who are addictive and infectious, drawing you towards them like a moth to the flame. This story is about such a person. No, not me. I'm the moth.

Last winter after a particularly nasty fight with my boyfriend at the time, we finally called it quits and went our separate ways. Obviously, he's not the infectious, boisterous person I'm talking about. Hang on, it gets better.

He took all his things with him, of course, so I was left with an apartment that suddenly looked half full and felt emptier. Like anyone who's gone through a tough breakup, I didn't deal with things in the best possible manner. My job suffered; my apartment decayed into depressing disorder; even my car was a mess. It was obvious I needed a change.

A friend at work suggested I take a trip and finally use up some of my vacation time that would usually lie around all year collecting dust. More than ready for anything far away from my depressing apartment, I thought that sounded like a grand idea. I opened some of the usual travel sites and saw a caption reading, "Escape to the Caribbean." I don't know if any of you have experienced a New England winter, but it isn't pretty. Grey days usually give way to frigid nights, either of which might be broken up by the occasional flurries. And of course, those flurries tend to add an hour to everyone's commutes, and the commutes in turn transform the snow into grey slush to blend in with the grey days. As you can probably imagine, it doesn't take much to want to get away from it all for a while, especially when you add an emotional breakup.

"Escape" and "Caribbean". Yes, they were exactly what I needed.

In no time at all, I had my vacation time secured, a round trip ticket to New Orleans purchased, and a small cabin reserved on one of the many popular cruise lines. I was never so happy to be on a plane in my life as I was those first moments during take off. I watched the grey and brown dismal ground fade away beneath the airplane, and as everything disappeared into a puff of silvery clouds, I leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes and slept. It was the first decent sleep I'd had in a very long time.



The night before boarding, I stayed in a rather upscale hotel at the insistence of my coworker, cashing in on a little timeshare deal she'd worked out. The moment I entered the lobby, I knew she was quite right. There is nothing like pampering oneself to raise the spirits a bit. I quickly dressed for the evening in my room and went back downstairs for dinner. For the first time in ages, it actually felt good to be eating alone. After a lovely meal and an even lovelier glass of wine, I was feeling rather good about myself and daydreaming of the oversized bathtub back in my hotel room. I settled the bill and was starting to gather my things when a laugh caught my attention.

Obviously this wasn't just any laugh. It was the sound of delight that turned heads, infectious in its ability to make us smile without knowing why. I looked from table to table in the room's fake intimacy of the low lighting until I spotted a woman at the bar off in the corner. She was leaning back against the polished brass bar, flanked by two men who were quite obviously interested in her, as evidenced by their unsubtle body language. From that distance, I could see the woman's hair was a dark brown that just missed being called black, its long curls tumbling down her back to tease her shoulder blades. She was dressed in a come-hither, strapless dress of red, its material clinging to her body with the sheen of silk and ending just below her knees. Her calves were nothing short of perfection, it seemed, and her red high heeled shoes shaped her feet and ankles in the ways the rest of us try so hard to achieve. I found myself captivated by her gestures, her look, and her voice which I could just hear but was too far away to understand. A moment later she laughed again, and our eyes met.

I realized she had caught me watching and felt an immediate flush on my cheeks. I gathered my purse and stood to leave, then risked one last glance towards the woman. When I saw her eyes were still on me, I nearly bolted for the door, managing to retain just enough composure not to attract strange looks from the restaurant's hostess.

I quickly crossed the lobby, but just as I reached the elevator, the doors closed in my face, mocking me. I stood there, impatiently pushing the button like a child until I felt a small tap on my shoulder. Jumping slightly, I turned and came face to face with that same woman who had fascinated me only moments before.

"I'm sorry," I blubbered clumsily, saying the first thing that came into my head. The foolishness of it made me blush, and I let my eyes fall away from hers. The stranger dipped her head, however, and smiled right into my horror-stricken face.

"Am I making you nervous?" she asked with that dazzling smile on her face. Her voice was gentle but danced with amusement. It seemed to light up her entire face, though it might have been my imagination. Her skin was a gorgeous, healthy tan color and looked so soft, with the faintest wrinkles at the outer corners of her eyes. I could do little more than stare into those eyes, which were a stunning shade that seemed both green and blue all at the same time. In my moment of panic or shock, another thought occurred to me.

"Your eyes are amazing," I said to her in a tiny voice. By now, I'm sure my face was bright scarlet as my subconscious brain did everything it could to embarrass me in front of this dazzling woman. I stammered an apology again and dropped my gaze, just as the elevator arrived with a chipper ring and the gentle whoosh of the opening doors. Seeking escape, I ducked inside as quickly as I could, but of course, she followed. Perhaps she was as fascinated by my blundering as I was by her beauty. Maybe it was simply amusing. I never asked.

We watched each other as the elevator crawled upward gently, she with a direct and inquisitive gaze, and I with furtive bouts of pained curiosity. We were of a similar height, though she was just a little shorter than I was, and I'm barely five and a half feet tall. Of course, in those heels of hers, the difference came to nothing. The mirrored walls of the elevator brought out other differences, though. It suddenly seemed obvious to me that I was trying so hard to look classy in my white satin dress and pumps, whereas she looked so completely at home in her own outfit of red. She was confident; I was cringing. It was a wholly humbling experience, and yet I felt that flutter of excitement in my stomach once more as I studied her with sidelong glances, trying not to appear too obvious.

It soon became apparent we were both staying on the same floor. I took a deep breath and tried to smile. "I really am sorry. I'm not usually so." I frowned and fell quiet, not at all sure what exactly it was I was trying to say, or which feelings I was battling to express.

"Taken?" the woman suggested in a cocky drawl with a wildly crooked grin as she leaned back against the handrail. "Fascinated, maybe. Attracted?" I just stared at her for a moment.

"I was thinking more along the lines of. rude," I admitted, laughing softly. "Honestly, I hope I didn't intrude, or. interrupt whatever you were doing." She just laughed and shook her head. The elevator announced our floor with another cheerful ding, and we stepped through the doors.

We both hesitated for a moment as I watched her uncertainly. Then she smiled again, and my, what a smile. "Honestly, it was the perfect 'out', so I should be thanking you," she explained, sounding so matter-of-fact. Again, I found myself staring, this time thoroughly confused. She continued, "I needed to get away so I could get to bed. My big cruise starts tomorrow. I'd hate to miss it." When she winked at me, the odd flutter in my stomach increased a couple notches. Suddenly, I gave her a ridiculously childlike grin, perhaps caught up by her absolute charisma.

"A cruise? Tomorrow? Maybe we'll meet again," said I, "and under less embarrassing conditions." I felt a need to explain myself, even though she didn't seem to need the explanation. "I've just been so tired. and I've needed this vacation so much. And." I trailed off, however, realizing how silly it all sounded. And again, she gave me that smile.

"So I take it we might actually be on the same boat for a week," she said in that lovely contralto voice of hers. Her head tilted just enough to send a cascade of dark curls falling over her shoulder as she interpreted my nonsensical reaction. "A most thrilling prospect. Sleep well, my blushing shipmate." And with a casual wave, she turned on her finely shaped heel and walked off towards her room.



I stood there alone for a moment longer, feeling as if I'd been picked up by a whirlwind and dropped in some strange world without the ruby slippers. Collecting my thoughts, I turned in the other direction and began a slow, dazed walk toward my own room. Once inside, I leaned my forehead against the coolness of solid door with my eyes closed for a long time, my mind filled with that smile, and that laugh, and those gorgeous eyes that were neither blue nor green, but a little of each, blending into some strange, silvery shade that made me shiver with a thrill of anticipation.

It was that thrill that made my eyes bolt open in another moment of panic.

Please understand, this was something of a shock for me. Certainly, I'd noticed beautiful women before, compared notes with my friends, given frank appraisals when asked, but it was nothing like this.

This complete stranger completely captivated me in a way that had never happened to me before. Any attractions I'd ever felt towards women in the past had always been written off as random crushes and fascinations that do seem to happen from time to time, but they were nothing like this. I wanted so much to find the woman again, just to see her again, to talk to her again, to try to decipher the soft blend of perfumes coming from her delicate skin.

My eyes closed again as I pushed myself away from the door, my palms sweaty against its smooth wood. I slid the deadbolt into place and turned, stepping out of my white pumps. With clumsy fingers, I unzipped the back of my dress and carefully laid it out on the bed, inspecting it with a frugal eye for spots and wrinkles. Satisfied, I put the dress back on its hanger and returned it to my garment bag on my way to the bathroom and the oversized tub I mentioned earlier.

The bathroom was as lush and distinctive as the rest of the hotel, which was exactly what I'd been going for on my first trip to New Orleans. It was decked out in creamy marble and white tiling, and the large, clawfoot tub was snuggled into the corner. I quickly turned on both faucets and straightened only once the water had reached a comfortably hot temperature. With a healthy dollop of the complimentary bath bubbles, the room was soon filled with a comforting humidity that was hazed with the soft scents of a rose garden.

Turning towards the large full-length mirror beside the tub, I regarded myself for a long moment while breathing in the delightful bouquet. I was still wearing the clinging, white silk slip that just barely covered my hips. I had decided earlier to skip panties, as the lines showed through my dress. I was reminded most startlingly at that moment. Gently, I reached down and touched one finger to the lips just out of sight behind the hem of the undergarment and found them to be wet.

No, not wet. that really doesn't do it justice.

They were so saturated with my own juices, it was a surprise there was no tell-tale glistening on the insides of my thighs. Of course, going by the feel of things, that wasn't far off, and watching myself do this was quickly escalating the experience.

For a moment, I stood frozen as if unsure what to do next. This was obviously a rather silly thing to do, but this was not a normal situation. I gave my reflection a sudden, wicked smile and lifted that finger to my lips and licked. The fact I'd never been brave enough to try that before still amuses me to this day. It wasn't so much the taste I enjoyed but the feeling, the silky liquid with the familiar scent, just tangy enough to make me shiver. Forgetting my earlier anxiety, I laughed and winked at my reflection. Yes, I was finally over my embarrassment for the moment. With a silly giggle, I lifted the slip over my head and dropped it to the floor, then ran my hands down my sides and turned away from the mirror.

I would not say I am unattractive, but I can't say I'm a showstopper. I keep myself in good condition as I quickly near thirty, and I don't think I've ever left my "normal" weight range. In general, I look like a former athlete who isn't quite as active as she used to be but does what she can.

My hair is an ashy blonde that lightens easily under the summer sun. Its gentle waves just touch the tops of my shoulders. My eyes are rather almond shaped and a deep blue with just a hint of evergreen around the edges. The rest of my features are far from perfect, with a nose that sometimes seems a little too large, skin that could be a little less flawed. Perhaps I'm being more critical of myself than others would, but this is what I see everyday.

What I don't usually see are my body's curves, my breasts that haven't quite lost their youthful perkiness, especially when tipped by slightly hardened nipples of dark rose. Perhaps I could say I am a handful. A handful here, a handful there. And just to test that, I took a handful of each breast and kneaded them softly, bring a flushed tone to the pale skin. Laughing softly once more, I gave my nipples a playful tweak and shook my head before stepping into the bathtub.

The water was delightfully warm and made me shiver slightly with a shock of pleasure. Slowly sinking into its rose-scented depths, I turned off the faucets and eased back until I was reclining most comfortably, letting the hot water and sudden silence ease away any lingering stress in my tired muscles.

I'm not sure how long I lay there, enjoying the sensations and the hazy, shapeless thoughts in my head. After a time, however, I found myself squirming slightly as if trying to make myself more comfortable. Of course, that wasn't quite it. With my eyes closed and a lazy smile on my face, I finally gave in and reached through the soapy water to touch myself again, my fingertip just grazing the little nub nestled below the dark patch of curly hair. My mouth opened to emit a whispered sound as I sank another inch into the water.

Pushing farther, my finger parted my lips, still tingling with unfulfilled desire, then swelling amplified by the warm water. With a snug little slip, my finger entered. I moaned out loud, so filled with sexual need that even this gentle caress made my heart race. Sparing no time, I pressed my fingers inside myself while my other hand massaged the hardened bud of my clitoris. In little time, my body shivered as my back arched, my breasts just peeking out of the soapy water, the bubbles clinging to my skin. I cried out with simple pleasure as my body shook with the tremors of that desired climax.

Slowly, I let myself back down into the water, riding out the waves of contented bliss with gentle, welcome trembles. Limply, I lay there in the water with a lazy smile, too delighted to care if anyone had heard my cries. Only the fear of falling asleep in that deep bathtub roused me from my thoughts. With a happy little sigh, I let the water drain and slowly got to my feet, staggering slightly from the loss of buoyancy and the weak aftereffects of my orgasm. It was all I could do to towel myself dry and stumble tiredly to my bed.

Enveloped finally in the downy soft sheets, I quickly fell asleep. Only then was I allowed to fully revisit my encounter with the beautiful stranger, who now haunted my dreams in a most pleasant fashion.



Morning dawned quickly, as the golden sun peeked through scattered, hazy clouds. I could faintly smell wet pavement through my open window, along with the scent of old wine that sometimes permeated the streets of New Orleans. With a growing breeze and sunshine, however, the aroma soon dissipated. It was invigorating being in this new place, surrounded by the new smells, the nearly muggy feeling to the air that wasn't quite uncomfortable, the fact I could wake up in December without fearing for my extremities. When all this was combined with last night's pleasures, I was in a most chipper mood when I took my morning shower and prepared to leave.

With my bags on both shoulders, I quietly closed the door and gave a furtive glance down both ends of the hallway. No one was in sight, both to my relief and disappointment. The only other occupant in the mirrored elevator was an older mustached man who could have walked out of a Mob movie. We exchanged polite nods, but nothing else.

The lobby was likewise deserted. To my New England way of thinking, this was most bizarre. Why were people not awake and getting on with the day? It was nearly 8:00 after all. The hours were just flying by. I suppose we don't leave everything behind when we take our escapist vacations.

In no time at all, I checked out of my hotel and packed myself into a taxi cab that smelled vaguely of garlic and rosemary. The driver had a strong accent I couldn't place, but he had no trouble taking me down to the area where I'd be boarding. He also very helpfully pointed out a cafe that served delicious breads and coffee. I obviously wasn't his first ship-bound tourist.

Walking down the quay, I could already see the ship. For lack of a better word, it was massive, and I was rather impressed in spite of myself. In a random moment, I had this odd vision of being one of maybe a dozen people, all on that same boat, and never running into one another. Silly, certainly, but that was my first impression.

Seeing as I had a good hour or so before my boarding time, I visited the cafe mentioned earlier. The girl at the counter could have been the cab driver's sister, considering the only differences between them was that she had hair, and he hadn't. I gave her an amused smile, ordered some coffee and a pastry, then sat outside the cafe to wait.

The rain from the night before had left an overly damp humidity in the city, which was more pronounced this close to the ocean. Shallow puddles still dotted the pavement in places, giving the long quay a just-scrubbed sort of feeling. The clouds were slowly scattering, however, leaving behind a clear blue sky that resembled those in the picture-perfect postcards sold next door.

For quite a while, I did little more than watch the people farther down the harbor who were already boarding the cruise ship while I nibbled on my pastry and sipped my coffee. By the time I was done, I had my things gathered, my papers and ID out where they needed to be, and I still had a good half hour left to kill. Waiting is not something I do very well, so I grabbed my bags and decided I may as well spend the time down where I'm supposed to be.

As soon as I started down the dock, I saw her again. I couldn't see her face, but she was holding herself just so. She was again dressed in red, though today it was a gorgeous, flowery, sleeveless sundress with a big, floppy hat to match. I could just make out the dark curls of her hair waving softly in the breeze off the water. As before, she was chatting with a small group of men who were decked out in the more masculine versions of a sundress. Their shorts were less flashy and their shirts were less clingy, but it was cruise-wear all the same.

Staying out of the mystery woman's line of site, I chose a barstool at an empty outdoor table next to one of the shops that weren't open just yet. Listening without appearing to do so, I eavesdropped on the small group's conversation with shy interest. It proved to be both boring and unenlightening, however. Two of the three men were brokers from Philadelphia, one was a used car salesman from Baton Rouge. I had apparently missed her own divulgements, which were the only ones I was interested in. At some point, one of the men must have glanced in my direction, which caused the others to turn towards me. To my possible credit, I don't think I blushed this time. Still, to have her eyes on me again was a tiny thrill. I gave the group a polite smile and nod as you often do with strangers.

The woman laughed softly and quickly stood from her table to claim the other barstool at mine. Her chair was a bit unsteady, but once she had it under control, she gave me a huge smile and leaned delicately on the table, which still had spots of water from the night before. "Well now, my mystery hotel guest," the woman said in a grandiose manner, "I guess we're going to be shipmates after all. Extraordinary, wouldn't you say?" She winked at me, and I found myself smiling like a child who's just been told she'd made the basketball team.

"Quite extraordinary," I replied, my voice managing to stay steady, even confident. Acting purely on instinct, I took advantage of the situation and stuck my hand out over the table, stating, "Seeing as we're going to be shipmates and all, my name is Elisabeth."

To my delight, she took my hand and shook it gently, laughing as she did so. She held onto my hand a moment longer as she replied in kind, "I'm Clare." Our eyes locked for a moment before she broke the contact and grinned at the guys who now surrounded our table. "See, boys?" Clare told them, her teasing quite obvious in her tone of voice, "in two seconds she found out who I am, which is something you couldn't do in the last half hour. Live and learn."

I just sat there with a small grin on my face, giving the Hawaiian-shirted men a sheepish look. Just then, a bell sounded and the men made their departing remarks and stepped away to gather their things before boarding. To my delight, Clare kept to her seat. After the men had moved out of earshot on their way to the gangplank, she turned to me and smiled. "Elisabeth, was it?" she asked as her head tilted in that way I remembered all too well from the night before. I nodded quickly. "Not at all suitable for a cruise. I'll have to call you Lis, I think." She leaned back in her chair, steadying the rocking with a hand on the table.

"Are you boarding at 9:30 as well?" I asked her in a quiet, curious voice. She nodded, smiling that dazzling smile. Now that I could see her up close once more and in the midmorning sunlight, I could see she was a little older than I was. Not by much, but early to mid thirties, give or take.

I felt foolish just sitting there silently, unable to take my eyes off Clare for long. Grasping blindly for something to say to her, I asked if she had been on a cruise before. She laughed again and nodded to me. "Oh, several," was her amused answer. "They're rather addictive, you see. Once you've been on one, it's rather hard imagining other ways to spend your vacation."

I smiled and shook my head slightly. "I have a hard time believing that," I told her with a soft laugh. "I always preferred variety."

This brought another delighted laugh from her, and she turned her barstool to face me, leaning her elbows on the edge of the table. She lowered her head slightly in a conspirational manner. "Maybe I'll have to be sure you get plenty of that variety while you're on the ship," she told me in a husky, flirtatious voice before cocking an eyebrow at me.

I know I went beet red, because she just broke out into laughter yet again, then began to slide from the barstool. "Come on, my conservative, virgin cruise-goer. Let's see if they'll let us on the big boat yet."

Despite my embarrassment just a moment before, I could do little more than follow this captivating, gregarious woman. I found myself walking down the dock with her without really knowing what I was doing any longer, like a leaf caught up by an autumn breeze and carried on the wind's currents without knowing where it will end up. And like the leaf, I didn't much care right at that moment.

Once we had both checked our luggage and been approved for boarding, I followed Clare across the narrow walkway to the main deck of the ship. I must admit, my attention right at that moment was a pretty even split between the woman and the cruise liner. I mostly paid enough attention to keep myself from falling flat on my face. I am happy to report I succeeded in that endeavor.

Once we were finally aboard, I gave Clare a light grin. "I seem to have this bad habit of drawing you away from flirting men," I said, joking softly. She just shook her head, looking highly amused.

"Whether or not it's a bad habit has yet to be seen," she replied with a steady smile. She then started walking along the deck towards the bow of the ship, where there was a rather nice view of the harbor. "I try to stay away from them, to be honest," Clare continued after a moment, "but they manage to find me. Don't get too attached, shipmate Lis," she then advised, grinning over her shoulder at me. "A good number of them have wedding bands waiting in their desk drawers at work when they get home."

I laughed in reply, though I could well believe it. "And the women don't do the same?" I asked her in a lazy drawl, which sent her laughing again. God, how I loved that laugh.

She replied with a simple shrug, stating, "I don't," as we continued to weave through the others on board.

We arrived at the bow along with dozens of other people, but we managed to get a couple spots near the railing. I leaned against it and just stared out across the harbor for a long moment, just taking it all in. It was finally sinking in that I was going to be on a ship in the middle of the Caribbean for a week. It had been years since I'd felt so happy and carefree, and it must have shown somewhat by my expression. When I turned back to Clare, I saw her watching me. For a wonder, I didn't blush this time.

"Let me guess," Clare said quietly, turning to lean back against the railing. "New England going by your accent, maybe New York. And recently divorced." I laughed in reply and pushed away from the railing a little bit so I could turn towards her.

"Close enough," I told her with a wink before continuing. "In fact, close enough to wonder if a small drink at ten in the morning is too early to be proper." Clare just shook her head with a grin and beckoned for me to follow. Which of course I did, Like a puppy with a new friend.

She had obviously been on this particular cruise liner before, because she knew exactly where she was going. We made our way to the upper decks, passed through the ornate dining room and emerged into the sunlight again where only a handful of people had gathered thus far. With a swipe of our little ID cards, we each had a nice fruity drink to help commence the vacation.

We picked out a couple of deck chairs and enjoyed quite a few minutes of sitting, sipping and people-watching. From that vantage point we could just barely see the boarding area below and the edge of the harbor farther out that fed into the Caribbean.

I don't know about Clare's drink, but my own was a bit on the heavy side. Apparently this wasn't all that uncommon, and I certainly didn't mind. We still had a few hours before the ship even left port, it was a gorgeous day, and I had gorgeous company. Who on earth would mind that? After watching various couples pass us and choose their own spots on the deck, Clare turned sideways in her chair and set her drink on the small round table between both deckchairs.

"So which part was I wrong about?" she asked me in a curious tone as she gave me a rather crooked smile. I turned to her with mild surprise, casting around for whatever it was she could be talking about.

"Oh! Oh. well, both actually," I told her, laughing. "I'm not from New York, but that was close. And I'm not recently divorced, but I recently broke up with my boyfriend of three years, so that's also close in its own way." I returned her crooked smile with one of my own and shrugged slightly. After another sip, I asked, "And what about you? What are you escaping back home to go on a week-long cruise?"

She just studied me for a moment as her smile leveled out into a more subdued grin. She then shrugged as well. "A bit of the same, perhaps. The beginning of winter can be dreadful. And breakups are never enjoyable." I just nodded in reply, feeling she hadn't answered anything, and that it wasn't exactly something she wanted to discuss.

I settled back on my chair once more and looked out to sea, or what I could glimpse of it. "Well, personally," I said trying to sound cheerful, "I'm looking forward to a week where I don't have to give a damn about what used to be so I can enjoy what is. Living in the moment and all that. I've never been in the Caribbean, and I mean to enjoy it." I shot her a quick grin, then finished my drink before sitting up. "Anyway. I think I'm going to attempt to find my room so I can drop off my purse before departure. I don't think that's something I want to miss." I gave Clare another childish smile and got to my feet. She quickly did the same.

"I could come with," she said to me rather briskly. "You know, so you don't get lost." I had a feeling she was teasing and joined in a quick laugh. With a nod of my head, we both started back down into the ship, weaving along the growing crowd until we eventually found my room. It's probably a good thing she was there, seeing as I would have taken a dozen wrong turns on the way. Of course, if I hadn't been so distracted with my casual traveling companion, this might not have been an issue.

When I got to my door, I quickly unlocked it and stepped inside, for the moment absorbed with the room itself. It looked exactly like the room in the online advertisement, with all the little things that made it feel a little more like a temporary home than a one-week hotel room. I heard Clare close the door as I slowly crossed the room towards the bed. Setting my purse on the nightstand, I turned to say something to Clare and came unexpectedly face-to-face with her. She stood mere inches away from me, smiling in a most fiendish manner.

I only had a moment to gather my shock. I could smell her hair, softly scented by something faintly herbal, almost minty. I could feel the warmth coming from her body and could do little more than stand there, completely unsure of myself, paralyzed.

Her smile slowly grew before she whispered, her voice edged by a faint, husky sound. "I couldn't stop thinking about you last night." I felt her hand brush my arm, her fingernails scraping ever so gently across the skin before her hand grasped mine. The skin prickled gently where she had touched me, and I felt my pulse begin to race.

Feeling there was something I should say, I nodded weakly and tried to reply, but my voice caught. I suddenly wanted to tell her the same: that I had fantasized about her, dreamt of her, wanted her touch me, wanted to touch her. Perhaps it was evident without my halting, half-formed words. She stepped even closer. I could feel her thigh touch mine. She licked her lips once, then leaned in.

My eyes closed when her lips touched mine. I was thrilled at the incredibly soft sensation of that tender kiss, a sensation a man can just never quite match. Of its own accord, my hand came to her waist and wrapped around her back to pull her closer; I wanted her to be so much closer. My other hand tangled softly in her hair, inadvertently knocking her hat to the floor, unnoticed by either of us. When I felt her hand press between us to skim across my inner thigh, I gasped lightly and took a half-step back, my calves hitting the bed.

With my hand still around her waist, she stepped with me and pushed me gently to the bed. The touch of her mouth at my neck made my back arch with the sudden thrills coursing down my body.

"Clare," I whispered, my voice throaty, heavy with need. I surprised myself with the intensity of the plea, for plea it was. I felt her nimble fingers unbuttoning my blouse, and after only seconds, her scorching mouth surrounded my nipple, her tongue driving it to hardened desire. My fingers dug into her back, but she did not slow down.

Distracted by her teasing tongue, I moaned quietly when her fingernails grazed the tender flesh of my inner thigh. Her fingers made a slow, tantalizing path under my shorts to flit along the hem of my panties. Between one breath and the next, I felt her fingers slip beneath the silk fabric to graze my hidden lips, moist with desire and swelling with need.

My hands went to the bed as I took in handfuls of the bedding, my back arching again at her soft, maddening touch. I honestly do not quite remember what she said, but her voice in husky, teasing tones drove me to a quickly increasing sense of sexual longing. Her finger slipped between my lips, and I would have cried out if her mouth had not at that moment closed over mine.

I moaned against her lips as she kissed me deeply, her tongue prodding experimentally while her finger explored my depths. My hips bucked against her hand, wanting more, wanting so much more. She readily obliged, and the more her finger filled me, the more I was driven ever closer to that breaking point, my breaths coming in ragged gasps, my pulse racing, my body stiff and hot against hers.

With a shattering feeling, I felt my body give in, carried over the climatic brink as my hands grasped for her, hugging her, holding her close as if she were the life vest to carry me through those unbelievable waves.

In time, my breathing slowed, and my eyes opened to find her watching me with the most dazzling smile I had yet seen. I tried to return it, but I could not seem to rid myself of the quivering feeling she had so quickly produced inside me.

"Now that," she drawled, her voice barely audible, "was the best orgasm I have ever seen in my life." I laughed weakly in return and touched my softly shaking hand to her cheek. I closed my eyes once more and felt her move and lie down beside me. I turned to face her with my knees drawn up slightly, still recovering from the pleasurable waves that were slowly fading.

"I've never done that before," came my tiny, breathless voice as I opened my eyes again to stare at this most mysterious woman.

"What. Come?" she asked, causing us both to laugh softly. "Don't worry about it. It hasn't changed who you are, right? And weren't you the one who proclaimed you liked variety?" Clare drawled with another crooked smile. I nodded slightly and smiled. "Look," she continued after a moment, "if you don't want to play, that's fine. I'll understand. I didn't exactly ask first. But damn, girl, you needed an orgasm like a plant needs water."

I drew myself up to lean on one elbow and shook my head slightly. "No, I think I'm fine. I enjoyed it. It's just. very new." I suddenly laughed. "And that was so much better than the dreams I had of you last night. Or the fantasy I had while taking my bath. Or my shower this morning." I trailed off and gave her a wink, then collapsed to my back so I could let my trembling fingers work at buttoning my shirt. A soft horn interrupted the moment and brought an excited grin from the woman beside me.

"We'd better hurry if we want to get a good spot to watch the ship leave port," Clare said as she bounced off the bed. My own movement was a little less bouncy but just as excited.

"I just need to grab some clean panties," I told her breathlessly. Her wicked grin was all I needed before realizing my luggage was nowhere to be seen.

"You're kidding, right?" she asked, her eyes twinkling softly. "You'll be lucky if it arrives by dinner tonight. I guess you'll just have to, uh. stick to those." The look she gave me then was enough to make me shiver once more. I just shook my head with a soft grin and finished with my buttons.

I stepped towards her and rested my hands on her shoulders a moment before leaning in to give her a gentle, lingering kiss. "Let's see what else the Caribbean has for us today," I whispered in her ear before giving her a quick wink and leading the way out the door.



My legs felt shaky as we walked down the corridor, the movement of the vast ship only faintly noticed, and only if you were waiting for it. My companion sailed on ahead of me without a care in the world, offering me an excellent view of someone who seemed so totally sure of herself.

We entered the dining room and were asked for our names, then told our table assignments. Clare just looked at the man and smiled, and he quickly returned the expression.

"Of course," he said very quickly, a little too quickly, "we can always rearrange the seating." Of course they can, I thought to myself, stealing a glance at Clare for a moment.

We were led to a table a little off to the side where we had an excellent view of the stage but weren't in the way of the majority of traffic. We started with wine; she had white, I hade red. The food was excellent, and the night's entertainment was a Caribbean band out of Jamaica, playing their local music with much skill and enjoyment, lending an attitude of carefree pleasure to the dining audience.

After half an hour of polite chatter with our tablemates, I began to notice Clare's hand resting on my thigh under the table. It was a delicate touch, so light I never would have noticed if not for her fingers which slowly caressed my inner thigh while she went on with the current discussion.

By the time our entrees arrived, I was squirming ever so slightly and wishing I'd removed my panties before leaving my room. There were a few moments when I was afraid I would leave a damp spot where I'd been sitting.

Luckily, our tablemates quickly finished their meal and departed, talking about catching the breeze above deck, leaving the two of us to enjoy the rest of the evening dinner together.

Clare pulled her chair just a little closer to mine as we took our time with dessert. The Jamaican band was slowly winding down with some quieter songs while the next band waited to take the stage. Some of the staff had already begun moving tables and chairs from the central part of the floor to make way for dancing.

Feeling incredibly shy despite our earlier intimacy, I did little more than steal glances at Clare throughout the meal. Sometimes I would press my knee against hers or brush my fingers against those still caressing my thigh.

We were nearly done with the meal when the bands started to switch over, and Clare leaned in close while the hand at my thigh dipped down between my legs.

"When we get back to your room," she whispered in my ear, pressing her hand close enough to tease my clit with the tip of her fingers, "I'm going to really take my time to see how often I can make you come."

I knew I was blushing, but there was no one looking our way. I turned my face towards hers and came very close to brushing her lips with mine before she pulled away. My pulse was racing and my body was quickly heating with excitement and anticipation.

I continued to stare at her while the next band began their first number. They were decidedly worse than the first band, and the few people who stuck around to dance were either so far into their cups that they didn't care how good the band was, or they were staying specifically to dance and also didn't care how good the band was. All in all, it was an amusing mix, but neither Clare nor myself seemed interested.

Finally, I gave Clare a slow smile, trying desperately to overcome my shyness. "Perhaps we could wait in my room until the decks are less crowded," I suggested very quietly. Clare gave me one of her magnificent smiles and began to stand. I quickly followed, giving my chair a quick look to make sure there was no telltale puddle left behind. Luckily, I was safe. For the moment.



Sometimes you just make a connection with another human being, and that seemed to be what had happened between Clare and myself. If it were true, I'd say we made love again at that point. Something kinky on the floor, perhaps, or obnoxiously noisy on the bed. To be honest, though, we spent the next hour or so just holding each other, dozing on top of the covers. It was so relaxing and comfortable. After a while, I was nearly convinced it was no longer the ship I felt rocking so imperceptibly beneath me; surely it must be the gentle sway of Clare's breathing while her heart beat in slow rhythm at my ear, my cheek pressed to her chest while she held me in her sleep. I know fell asleep at some point, because I awoke some time later to the sensation of Clare's cool fingers caressing my forehead, brushing so very lightly through my hair. The room was almost completely dark. The only light left filtered in through the solitary window, which showed a deep, dark night sky. It gave me a start, and I sat up so quickly that even the little I could see went dark as the blood rushed to my head.

"What time is it?" I asked, sounding breathless as panic gripped my chest, though for the life of me, I couldn't imagine why I was so worried.

Clare chuckled softly and drew me towards her. "Just past ten o'clock, I'm guessing," she answered in a quiet tone, her voice mildly husky.

I had just started to lean against her but sat up again, crying, "Ten? But I'm missing everything!"

The other woman nearly shrieked with laughter and pulled my indignant self against her for a brief hug before she slid from the bed. "Oh, my dear shipmate, Lis. You're only missing the obnoxious part, please trust me." She held her hand out towards me and smiled that dazzling, knowing smile of hers. Awakening butterflies practiced their aerobatics in my stomach as I got to my feet and took her hand. She held it lightly for a moment, then drew me towards her, guiding us both into a silent, slow dance before she leaned in and rested her cheek against mine.

I wish I could have seen her face just then. Perhaps imagination will be enough. For a heart-stopping moment she just held me. Her soft breasts felt comfortable and warm against mine, and I could feel my heart thudding nervously in my chest. Then it slowed as Clare's calming influence took effect.

It was then that I could hear the noise on the other side of the window. It was raucous and ridiculous, just as obnoxious as Clare said it would be. Feeling foolish, I pulled my cheek away from hers and leaned back long enough to look into her eyes. She was amused, but she was not laughing at me, and I appreciated that so much. I leaned in slowly and kissed her once as my arms tightened around her shoulders.

"How did I luck out to find such an amazing guide on this big boat of people lost at sea?" I asked with a soft laugh. Clare's hands lifted to my shoulders and squeezed reassuringly.

She kissed my cheek then stepped away. "They're not /all/ lost," she promised with a wink before she moved out of the feeble light coming from the cabin's window. I watched her for a moment, then glanced towards the circle of light. The passing crowd was out of earshot by now, but I could hear the liner cutting through the water. Quite suddenly, I craved to be out there, to smell the salty sea and perhaps feel its moisture on my face.

"Would you like to get a drink?" I asked, turning to find my sandals. I was surprised, and yet not, to find Clare standing next to me once more, holding them out to me. I laughed and slipped them on my feet. "I just want to go out there and watch the moon and the water." It felt silly when I said it, but that did not make it less true.

Clare nodded in understanding. "There's nothing quite like the ocean," she commented, her voice deep and throaty, tempting. "It moves your soul. Erodes the sharp edges."

At the time, I still was not sure what she meant, but the temptress was all too good. We slipped out into the corridor.



We sat in plastic chairs at the bow of the ship. The sky was dark and dotted with millions of stars. It felt like we were standing still, and yet the crisp wind whisked over the railing and swirled gently through our hair. The scent on the breeze reminded me oddly of lobster, which made me laugh at first. The Caribbean was so different from the frigid New England coastline. It was inviting and alive. I really could almost feel it tugging at my very soul, though to what purpose, I was not quite sure.

I stood, moved to the railing and watched the water disappear beneath the ship, a white spray sometimes sending a fine mist into the air. I could feel Clare's eyes on my back, but for a moment, I was entirely unsure as to what might come next. Warring emotions toyed with me, whipping me about the way the wind whipped through my hair, tangling it. I felt her touch my arms, and the wind subsided. I closed my eyes.

Clare leaned against my back. Her hips pinned mine to the railing, making my heart skip a beat. She slowly drew her hands down my arms, and I could feel her warm breath against my neck. I loved this. I loved being on that ship, surrounded by strangers. It gave me freedom. Freedom to stand against a railing, pinned by a beautiful woman I had only just met. I leaned my head back against her shoulder and smiled up at the stars as her lips grazed my neck.

I opened my eyes and watched the points of light shimmer in the humid air. Clare's arms wrapped around my shoulders gently and held me close. "This doesn't usually happen," she whispered to me." I turned in her arms and frowned slightly, confused. "I usually take these trips and flirt with the waiters, drink their wine, eat their meals, write my reports for whichever magazine sent me off this time. But I don't get close," she continued, sensing the question in my look.

If anything, my confusion grew. "This doesn't usually happen for me either," I told her softly, uncertain.

Her arms tightened once more, and she stepped in close, leaned her forehead against mine. I could smell her faint perfume. "I don't want it to stop," she said in a breath before she bent her head and pressed her lips to mine. My hands found her hips and pulled them against mine as I pressed into the kiss, my eyes closing tightly. It felt so right. I felt my world rocking gently on the sea, driven by the endless waves.

Her need was strong. I could feel it in her arms, her tensed body, her heated kisses, and I wanted all of it. She took my hand suddenly and turned, quickly heading back towards the corridor. I didn't need to ask where we were going. I could feel her heartbeat in the fevered hand clutching mine. I could feel my own pace quickening, throbbing, desiring.



She barely took time for breath as she closed the door to her cabin and latched it securely. She was on me, her hands pulling at my clothes as she guided me to the bed. By the time I felt it against my legs, she had stripped me bare, my skin like fire. I pulled at her hands and she knelt over me, her lips so soft against my skin, her tongue flicking against my stiff nipples. I groaned quietly and pushed her to the side so I could lift the straps of her dress and slide the silky sheath down her body, my kisses trailing down her creamy skin.

I felt her hands at my hips, but I wasn't ready yet. I took them and pinned them to the bed as I straddled her legs and bent down, taking her nipple into my mouth. The sensation was almost too much. I knew I had to slow down soon, but I just couldn't yet. Her moans spurred me on as our fingers entwined. I wanted to touch her, explore her, but if I let go, she would take over.

Carefully, I shifted my weight until I could press my knee between hers, gentle but invading. She parted her legs with a fevered sigh and I knelt between them. Bending down to her, I pressed my nose into the damp, salty tangle of curls. It was heavenly. It was surprising and enticing and all too arousing. I had to force back my own desire as I pressed against her and let my tongue reach out slowly, unsure. The tip made contact with that little bud, but it was too much. I had lost my leverage.

She pulled her hands free and pushed me away, taking advantage of my surprise. I saw her smile as her hands took my shoulders and pulled me against her. We kissed deeply. I could still taste the wine on her lips, and her juices on mine. She pushed me to the bed and lay on top of me. Her hand clutched my hair of my head as she kissed me deeply, and I felt her fingers part the moist hair between my thighs. Then her finger slid against my clitoris and beyond. I cried out, hands gripping the sheets. She stifled my cries with her lips and drove onward, never slowing that pace until my world pulsed and splintered; it shattered against her like waves breaking over a stony cliff.



Dawn broke through the scattered clouds, accompanied by the obnoxious blast of the cruise liner's horn. I was tired, but pleasantly so. The air was still just a little cool, and I rolled over to cuddle under the sheets a little more, reaching for Clare. Her skin prickled slightly in the breeze, and she gave me a crooked, knowing smile that both promised and concealed.

"Do they have to wake us up with that awful noise?" I said, followed by a yawn I muffled with my pillow. Clare laughed, reached over to tangle her fingers in my hair and drew close, kissing me gently.

"They're sailing into port. I'll have to go into town," she told me, "and try the wares. But it's more fun with company." As if I would stay on this ship by myself.

"What will we do?" I asked, reluctantly pushing myself away from the bed. I stretched slowly, arms reaching out to either side.

Clare crawled to my side of the bed, grabbed my hips and drew me in. She kissed me so deeply I had to wrap my arms around her shoulders just to keep my feet. "You'll see," she murmured, her voice a purr.

The day felt warmer already.