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AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hey, folks, I know it’s been a while. Will admit to a certain amount of writer’s block. But now I’m back, and I hope you all will enjoy this latest extravaganza!
Everyone thought that Dawn and I would be together forever.
We were childhood sweethearts, having known each other since grade school. Our first semi-official date was our 8th-grade prom, and things just escalated from there. We dated exclusively all the way through high school and college, and after awhile it just became an accepted fact that we were going to get married.
I knew there was a risk, as she had survived a bout with leukemia as a teenager, but she seemed to be fine as we prepared for the wedding two years after our college graduations. We were both successful enough in our careers that we had bought a condo together. Our wedding and honeymoon were both perfect. Life was just bliss for three years.
Then she got sick again.
She had been in remission for eight years, but the cancer — now an aggressive form of lymphoma — came back with a vengeance. I sat with her through her chemotherapy sessions, watched her battle bravely, but I knew, as I’m sure she did too, that with the prognosis we’d been given, we were merely postponing the inevitable. I was watching my wife, my lover, my best friend, waste away before my eyes.
On what should have been our fourth wedding anniversary, I buried her.
I suppose as a defense mechanism, I threw myself into my work. I was a comptroller for a large construction company, and I spent my days with my nose buried in my ledgers. I was often the first to arrive at work and the last to leave. I never went out, only called friends and family to let them know I was still alive, ate as little as I needed for sustenance, and mostly hung around playing my bass in the apartment that should have been full of Dawn and the children we had dreamed of having. I never took vacation time, as I didn’t want to have to sit and think about the hand I had been dealt.
So when my sister called and told me that she was gifting me a Caribbean cruise, I was somewhat less than thrilled. A week and a half at sea going to some islands I had absolutely no interest in seeing — not to mention the enforced isolation and socialization aboard ship — didn’t really rank too high on the scale of things I wanted to be doing. But since my sister was paying the bill, and had also given me a $2000 shipboard credit for drinks and shore excursions, I figured that the least I could do to thank her for her largesse was to get outrageously drunk every night.
I had boarded, had the obligatory bon-voyage glass of champagne, lightly sampled the buffet and settled into my cabin, when I decided to head over to the piano bar and begin inflicting what I expected to be irreparable damage on my liver. In my state of mind, I didn’t really care. I had just received an Absolut screwdriver when I felt a presence next to me.
A husky female voice softly asked, “Is anyone sitting here?”
I didn’t even look up. “You are now, I guess.”
“Cruising for the first time?”
“No, I’ve done this before.” Dawn and I had taken a Bahamas cruise for our honeymoon.
“I didn’t see you at the singles-only welcome dinner. Believe me, I’d have remembered you if I had.”
“I wasn’t really into that scene.”
“So you vanted to be left a-loooon?” she said in a goofy Greta Garbo imitation. “Do you vant to be left a-loooon NOW?”
Persistent, I’ll give her that, I thought to myself. But getting a bit annoying, too. How can I get rid of her without being rude?
“Just escort ataşehir interested — why did you sit next to me, of everyone here at the bar?”
“Because you, of everyone here, looked most like you could use a friend.”
I then looked up to see who I’d unintentionally engaged. What I saw was huge, inviting brown eyes, a beautiful round face, plump, moist lips, all framed by clouds of frizzy black hair that almost reached down to her waist. She was wearing a dark maroon top that was held up by the thinnest of spaghetti straps, and a tiny white skirt that, every time she shifted in her seat, looked like it was in danger of exposing her. Her long, toned legs ended in a pair of heels. “Fuck-me pumps”, I would often call them.
She licked her lips. “Good, I finally got you to look at me. I’m Ashley.” She held out her hand.
“Mike.” I took her hand and shook it. “So, why did you think I needed a friend?”
“In my job, I have to be able to read people. I saw you when I came in here, and there was this haunted look in your eyes that told me that you’re running away from something. Would you like to tell me, Mike, what it is you’re running away from?”
“Life, I guess. Let’s just say that things haven’t gone as I’d hoped they would.”
She snorted. “You’re a good-looking, still-young guy with his whole life ahead of him. You’re way too young to be giving up on things. I’ll bet that the best of your life is still to come.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You haven’t lived my life.”
She held up her glass — she was drinking a margarita — clinked it against mine and toasted “Here’s to feeling sorry for ourselves”. But she said it in such a matter-of-fact way that I wasn’t insulted by it.
I was now becoming intrigued by her. “Are you traveling alone?”
“No, my three girlfriends and I have this gorgeous suite upstairs. Maybe you’d come up and see it while we’re sailing?”
Talked to her for a couple of minutes, and already I’m getting an invitation? No, absolutely not, I thought. I put even the possibility of it out of my mind.
“Are these co-workers, or friends?”
“Both. We all work in the same school. I’m a guidance counselor, and my friends are all phys-ed teachers. We take this cruise every summer. What do you do for a living?”
I told her.
“Interesting. So you handle a lot of money.”
“My company’s money. I like the job. Especially considering that usually I like to keep to myself, it’s the perfect job for me.”
“Did you come on a cruise to meet someone? Or is there a special someone at home?”
At first her straightforwardness had been annoying, even off-putting. But now that I was somewhat used to her, I found it to be engaging. I decided to let her in a little bit.
“There was someone special. I lost her to cancer a year or so ago.”
She laid her hand on top of mine. “I’m sorry. But you see, I knew there was something you were trying to escape. If it isn’t too intrusive for me to say, I’m going to guess that you haven’t really dealt with your grief.”
“I don’t want to burden you with my shit. I don’t really know too much about you.”
She leaned in close. “You can tell me anything you want to. It all stays right here. Look, Mike, I’ll be honest, I was very attracted to you the second I saw you in here. If it seems like I was chasing you, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe in the whole man-pursues-woman thing. If I like a guy, I walk up to him and talk to him. It isn’t complicated. So you can tell me, or not tell me, whatever you like.”
We spent the next several hours getting kadıköy escort to know each other. I told her I used to play in a band, but that my job and my situation prevented me from being anything but a bedroom warrior for now. We found that we both liked the Mets, Rangers and Giants, had the same taste in classic rock, pop and folk, had similar political and social views, and had grown up in the same neighborhood but had gone to different schools. At 29, I was two years older than her.
My attempt at liver damage was, at least temporarily, forgotten. I found that throughout our lengthy conversation, I was nursing the same drink I’d started it with.
Ashley looked at her watch finally and exclaimed “Oh, my, it’s nearly 1 A.M. and my girls must be wondering what the heck happened to me!” She pulled out her cell phone and found several text messages from her friends.
She stared right into my eyes, licked her lips and said “I don’t quite think our conversation for the night is done. Where would you like to continue it?”
My heart started racing. I’d had no intention of bringing this girl back to my cabin, nor did I really want to go to hers, but I found both her and our conversation more intoxicating than any booze and didn’t really want to end the night either. I finally stammered out, “Okay, my place. But I’d like one thing perfectly clear before we go. I haven’t any plans for you other than our conversation. You’re a beautiful, really nice girl and I actually do want to get to know you better, but beyond that…”
“Don’t worry, we’ll make it up as we go along. What’s your cabin number, so my friends will know where I am?”
“10568.”
She carefully typed the numbers into her cell phone. “Good, now we belong to each other for the rest of the night.”
She then stood up. And up. And up. Mind you, up to this point I’d only seen her in a sitting position. Even at my nearly 6-foot height, with her heels she stood a good four inches taller than me. I would guess that in bare feet, we were about the same height. I could see her large, bra-less breasts bounce as she confidently walked along, holding my arm and with her head resting on my shoulder.
When we reached my cabin, I ushered her in. I asked her, “Would you like a tee-shirt or something to wear?” She nodded yes. I gave her one as I took a pair of gym shorts to change into in the bathroom. After changing and brushing my teeth, I came out of the bathroom, looked at the bed — and saw Ashley, her clothes and my tee-shirt in a pile on the floor, lying on top of the covers, staring seductively at me and wearing only a smile.
“Ashley, I told you that isn’t what I want.” My words may have been saying that, but my body was betraying me. One thing I’ve never been able to hide is when I’m physically attracted to a woman, and when you have a nine-inch penis, a woman is going to know in short order if you’re interested or not.
She pointed at my growing erection. “THAT says differently.”
“Ashley, PLEASE put some clothes on, or get under the covers.”
“Get under the covers with me.”
Almost unwillingly, I crawled into bed with her, turned the lights out, and immediately felt her wrap herself around me and tenderly kiss me on the lips. “You can do whatever you like with me tonight, Mike. We can talk. We can kiss. We can do THIS,” as she reached into my shorts and grabbed my pulsating rod. I pushed her hand away. “Hmmm. Well, as I said, we can do whatever you like. I’m right here.” She took my hand, and brushed it across her large, pointed nipples. She moaned slightly and shivered. “For something maltepe escort bayan worthwhile, I don’t mind working for it.”
She leaned in again, and we kissed longer this time — our tongues dancing around each other, pushing deeply, exploring each corner of our mouths. She shifted so that her upper torso was pressed against mine, her tits squashed against my chest, her arms draped tightly around my neck and her mouth seemingly as one with mine. She lifted her head away, gasping, and tried to push one of her nipples into my mouth. I turned away.
“Why not?”
“I don’t think it’s right.”
“I want you to.”
“I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t have even invited you here. I think you should go.”
“I’d like to stay. I really want to talk some more.”
“If you’re going to stay, talking only. Look, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to… you know… go further. But I don’t roll that way.”
“A gentleman. There aren’t too many of you around. I like that.”
We spent the next couple of hours in a tight embrace, chatting. We kissed deeply a couple of times. She ground herself against me, and once more tried to reach down my pants. Once more I stopped her. She then tried to put my hand between her legs — I got a brief feel of her soaking-wet furnace of a vagina — and again I pulled back. She looked at me almost incredulously. “I’ve NEVER had a guy reject me before. I don’t know whether to be honored or insulted. But I WILL say that I have to respect you either way.” We fell asleep in each other’s arms, with me stroking her long hair.
When I awoke at nearly noon, Ashley was still sleeping. I carefully extricated myself from her grasp, showered, dressed and ordered a room-service lunch of fresh fruit and salad for both of us. When she woke up, I was munching on a piece of cantaloupe. She looked at me and smiled. “I’ve never had a guy order me breakfast unless he’d just fucked me. Tell me the truth, Mike, what was last night all about?”
“I just wanted to have someone I could be kind to. You DO realize that you’re the first woman to share my bed that I wasn’t married to. I liked having someone to wake up next to, to do things for. You know what I mean?”
She stretched, her large breasts fully exposed. She shook her head. “Everything that every guy has ever wanted from me, you wouldn’t take even though I wanted so much to give it to you. You won’t even take it now. Wow, Mike, who ARE you?”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
She smiled to herself, and shook her head. “I want my girlfriends to meet you. They’re a really fun, loud bunch. What say you come up to our suite right after dinner, say around 7, and hang out with us? Come up wearing a bathing suit. Take the midship elevator — I’ll meet you on the 14th floor. You need a room key to get up to the 15th, where the suites are. Promise me you’ll come?” She helped herself to a plate of salad while I was mulling it over.
“Sure, why not? I’d like to meet your friends. After last night, maybe I need to start hanging with people again.”
“Good boy. I promise you that you won’t regret it.”
After eating a little, she dressed, then sat herself down on my lap. She leaned in and gave me a long, probing kiss, then said “You’ve done everything right so far. My friends are never going to believe that I went to a guy’s room, practically threw myself at him, shared his bed and never had him inside any part of me. Believe me, I understand why. But I’m not sure they’re going to understand. As I said, they can be a pretty wild bunch. But I think you’ll like them. I know they’re going to like you. See you later, lover.”
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t actually want to be alone. It was all I could do to let her walk out the door. But there was the certain knowledge that I was going to be seeing her later, so I drew some comfort from that as I whiled away my day.
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