I’ve recently been inspired to dust off my alt for the first time in nearly two years. I hope you enjoy!
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Okay, so the first thing you have to understand about cruise ship life is that there is nothing to do. Oh, sure, if you’re a paying passenger, don’t worry; dozens of people have put in *hundreds* of hours to make sure that you get to watch a great show after your fantastic day in Puerta Vallarta or wherever, and that you get to watch that show with a perfectly made (double-priced) drink in your hand. You get to go to the casino, the spa, the yoga classes, the bar… the world is your oyster and the entire ship basically exists for your benefit.
Not so much for the crew. Tiny cabins, no windows, relegated to the crew bar and the crew mess, and don’t even *think* about setting foot in the casino. On some lines, just standing on that part of the carpet will get you fired, no questions asked.
The second thing you have to understand about cruise ship life is that you are likely to be surrounded with more than your fair share of attractive people. And I don’t just mean run of the mill attractive, either. Of course, not *every* crew member is going to be a Venus or an Adonis, but the guest relations crew members? The front desk, the waitstaff, the bartenders, the spa workers, the casino dealers, and *especially* the entertainers are almost certain to be hotter than average. This one time, I was on the beach in Mexico, at a shitty little waterfront restaurant, and two of the guys from engineering came out to the beach and *holy shit*… well, let’s just say the boilers aren’t the hottest things down there.
So. Mix two parts boredom with one part being surrounded by hot people, and add in a generous dash of two dollar beers in the crew bar, and you get what might be called one of the main pastimes of crew life: *the sex*.
Which is how I had come to find myself, not quite three sheets to the wind, being led through the winding passages of the crew-only area, off the main corridor and down a mostly-hidden flight of stairs, below the waterline and through the door of a cabin belonging to one Mateo, one of the fitness guides onboard. He was a bit drunker than I was, which was how I liked it. When we had finished our drinks just before last call and I had suggested we continue the party elsewhere, he had immediately piped up with “Oh, I have some beer and a deck of cards in my cabin, would you like to play some poker, or something?” I had accepted enthusiastically; honestly, with his tremendously sexy Italian accent, he could have suggested that we go clean out the grease traps in the galley and I probably would have said yes.
Oh man, Mateo all greased up, his lean body shining under the fluorescent lights, I wonder what that would look like…
…but I digress. Mateo swiped his room key over the electronic lock, waited for the soft *click* of the lock disengaging, and pushed open the door to his cabin.
It was small, but fairly neat. It’s impossible to get that *Better Homes and Gardens* model house look when you live in a space about half the size of a motel room for months at a time, but it wasn’t overly cluttered or dirty. Nice. I glanced around out of habit, wondering if he had pictures of his family or any favorite books on the shelf, but as soon as the door shut behind us he distracted me by pulling my face up to his with both hands and kissing me firmly on the mouth. I felt a jolt of energy shoot from my toes to my groin, making my knees buckle a little on the way up.
Mateo felt me start to sway, and put one arm around my waist and the other around my shoulders, letting me lean my weight against him. Gods, I love a strong man. I reached up behind him and grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling the muscle definition under his black t-shirt. I allowed my hands to roam his broad, well-muscled back for a long moment while the kiss continued, before pulling away to breathe. He caught my gaze with his deep mahogany eyes and asked in a husky voice, “Are you alright?” I nodded shakily.
“Just trying to catch my breath,” I replied, my own voice a little breathier than usual. One of his nearly-black eyebrows rose, and a small smile quirked one side of his mouth.
“Ah… then I will give your lips a break,” he said. I made a small noise in protest and reached up to touch my lips to his again. The kiss was briefer this time, though no less intense. I felt his tongue questing along my lips and I parted them to let him into my mouth, and met his tongue with my own. They seemed to wrestle for a few moments, and then Mateo pulled away just far enough to break the kiss. He planted his lips gently against the corner of my mouth, then again on my jaw, then again closer to my ear. Delicately, he kissed his way down the side of my neck, almost to my collarbone, as I rested my forehead against his shoulder and continued running my hands all over his torso. When he reached the point where my neck met my shoulder, his lips parted and I felt his teeth close on my skin with a little nip. It wasn’t a hard or painful nip, but it was firm enough that it got my attention and I gasped.
He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that made shivers run through me, and placed a kiss on top of the spot he had nipped before straightening again and pressing his lips to mine. I moaned into his mouth. I couldn’t help it, at this point; my belly felt like it was on fire and I was nearly positive that I had soaked through not just my panties, but also my jeans. I moaned again as his large, rough hand felt its way to my waist, slipped beneath the scarlet blouse I was wearing, and worked under my bra. His movements were so certain that I was a little surprised at how quickly his fingers found my left nipple and began to caress and gently knead my breast. In response, I shifted my own attention lower, my right hand moving to explore the hardness in his jeans. He groaned a little as I began to massage him through the sturdy dark denim, and he gave my nipple a pinch and roll that made me answer him with a moan of my own. Finally, we both broke away from the kiss, panting, and leaned our foreheads together.
Mateo looked at me, his dark eyes a little glazed. “I would very much like to make love to you,” he rasped, desire distorting his voice. I swallowed before answering, “Yes please.”
As soon as the first word passed my lips, he had stripped my blouse over my head, and he was working at the button on my pants before I had finished speaking. In a flash he had them open, hooked his thumbs into the waistband, and dragged them down over my hips, taking my panties with them. As I moved back briefly to step out of them, I glanced down. Sure enough, the gusset of my lacey teal underwear was a much darker shade, showing how wet I was already. I kicked the pile of fabric back towards the door of the cabin as I reached up behind my back to unhook my red gingham bra. Mateo nearly devoured me with his eyes as I pulled the straps forward over my shoulders, and tossed the bra back towards the pile. He grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head, and began unbuttoning his own jeans.
I reached out and stopped him with a touch, moving his hands out of the way so that I could undo the fastenings myself. I knelt as I slowly slid his pants down, revealing nice but utilitarian navy blue boxer briefs… and his erection.
It wasn’t the largest cock I’ve ever seen, but it certainly wasn’t tiny. A confident six inches, if I had to guess, and reasonably girthy. As I pulled his boxer briefs down, I leaned closer and gripped his shaft in one hand, maneuvering his briefs down with the other. That done, I pushed gently against his hips, encouraging him to sit on the bed. I knelt between his knees and leaned closer.
I could see a bead of precum that had already gathered at the tip, and I flicked my tongue across him to taste it. I heard him inhale sharply at the touch, and I smiled, meeting his gaze as I began to kiss and lick around the head. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, I began to work him in and out of my mouth. As his head passed my lips, I was rewarded with a low groan, and he placed one hand on the back of my head, the other holding him up on the bed. I moaned for him, letting the vibrations hum in my mouth, as I began to massage him with my tongue, slowly bobbing my head up and down. I’ve never been much good at deep throating, but fortunately for me, he wasn’t quite large enough to make me feel bad about that. I was able to glide most of the way down his length without much trouble, and I worked that length for all I had. He was moaning more frequently, now, and I began to pump him with my hand as I bobbed.
“Oh, fuck, *dio mio*,” he hissed, and I could feel him swelling in my mouth. I redoubled my efforts, taking as much of him into my mouth as I could, then pulling nearly all the way back, teasing his head with my lips. I could feel my own arousal dripping down my thighs, but for the moment I focused on the taste of him, the sound and scent of him, letting him become my entire world.
I *fucking love* giving head.
Mateo’s hand on the back of my head began to push, and his hips began to buck. I let him drive my motions, let him fuck my mouth, and a few short moments later I was rewarded with another strangled “*Dio mio!*” as he thrust himself deep into my mouth, almost making me gag, and shot rope after rope of hot, salty cum down my throat. He stayed that way for a moment, and I began working on swallowing the load he had given me. As I finished, I slowly sucked my way off of his cock, making sure it was nice and clean. He shuddered as I let him come free with a soft *pop*.
“Fuck, Sarah,” he panted. I smiled slyly up at him from where I still knelt between his knees.
“I hope you’re not done,” I said in a low, sultry voice, putting a bit of a smolder into my gaze. His face broke into a wide grin and he shook his head, then he pulled me up by my arms and rolled me over so that I was on the bed instead of him.
I looked up at him and giggled. “How did you do that?” I demanded. He shook his head, one eyebrow raised again.
“Trade secret,” he said, then he knelt where I had been mere seconds before, and began to kiss his way up the inside of my right thigh.
My skin was already so sensitive that each touch sparked new waves of pleasure through my body, and I could feel a familiar ache between my legs. He was taking his sweet time making his way, and I was impatient, and he could see that. He was doing it on purpose, and it was driving me absolutely crazy. I whimpered as he neared the center of that ache, gasped as he brushed over it with a soft, feathery kiss, and moaned a little with frustration as he passed it and kissed the top of my other thigh. My hips bucked of their own accord, trying desperately to get the attention I was craving. I heard him chuckle again, and then felt a delicate, warm touch carefully working between my folds. His tongue probed as deep inside me as he could, savoring the taste of me for a long moment. Then I felt him lapping upwards, searching for my clit. It didn’t take him long to find it, aroused as I was. He circled it a few times, testing to see what got the best response from me.
For my part, I was definitely giving him a response. Every time his tongue passed over that sweet spot right below the nub, I moaned and writhed. As he increased his tempo and pressure, I matched him, forgetting to keep my voice quiet for the moment. I bucked and moaned and writhed as he gently inserted first one finger, then another inside me and began to make a slow but firm “come hither” motion in concert with the movement of his tongue.
“Ah, oh fuck, oh god right there oh *goddon’tstoprightTHERE*” and then my voice just became one wordless cry as my orgasm washed over me, clamping my walls down on his fingers and my legs around his head as I thrashed.
It seemed like it took forever, but I knew it was only a few seconds before I came down, gasping and feeling the tingle of endorphins spreading out through my body. I looked down at Mateo, a stupid post-orgasmic grin on my face, and found him staring at me, a strange look on his face.
“You okay?” I asked, concerned.
He nodded. “I did not realize that you were a squirter,” he said, and I realized his entire face was slick with my cum. I felt a flush of embarrassment climbing up my face.
“Oh…oh, I’m so sorry, it doesn’t happen every time…”
He shook his head, then smiled an excited smile and said “That’s hot as fuck. I made you squirt!” He looked so proud that I laughed a little, then I reached one hand out to him and beckoned him closer.
“Wanna make me do it again?”
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/sqm3m4/pleasure_cruise_part_1_oral