To celebrate our fifth anniversary, my wife Gina and I took a cruise down into the Caribbean. We were on one of those gigantic ships, a floating city that existed solely for the pleasure of its guests. And the guests were remarkably young. Gina and I have been on several cruises and always found the passengers to be much older than we are; after all, cruising is expensive and it's usually those who are older who can afford it.
Our cruise line, however, was different. I'm sure you've seen the ads on TV: young bikini-clad women everywhere, "Broadway-style" entertainment, wonderful food. Well, let me tell you: the best part about being on a cruise ship isn't any of that. It's simply being in the middle of the sea with nothing to do. I've always called it enforced relaxation. You read, eat, and rest.
Of course, there's something else you do: gamble. Every cruise ship has a casino that opens up when you leave port and enter international waters. It's one of the many diversions for the paying guests. A large room filled with the cacophony and flashing lights of the slots. Blackjack tables. Craps. Roulette. You name the game and there's probably a table to take your money. Our ship's casino was not much different than most. It was a large oval room, filled with row after row of chrome-plated slot machines. They ran in two semi-circles, leaving a wide open area in the middle that housed the different gaming tables. The carpet was a deep blue, which offset the dark green of the blackjack, poker, craps and roulette tables. In the immediate center was a small circular bar which, for a signature that would bill your cabin and a clay chip for a tip, would pour you any drink you would ever want.
On our second night at sea, Gina and I decided to spend some time in the casino. I generally don't enjoy gambling; I feel it would be easier simply to open my wallet and hand them my cash. But Gina loves it. She knows that most likely she's going to lose. After all, Vegas doesn't stay in business by handing away piles of money. She likes the excitement of it, that there's always that chance that she'll hit the bigtime and score the elusive jackpot. Gina has always been a little more adventuresome than I have, a little more willing to take risks.
We dressed up for our evening at the casino. I put on a dark pinstriped suit, black shirt and grey tie. Gina wore her nice black velvet dress and, even though we'd barely gotten our sea legs, insisted upon wearing a pair of high-heeled shoes. I have always loved Gina in that dress. The neckline comes down scandalously close to her breasts, offering ample cleavage. The hem of the skirt is just above the knees. It's fitted, and hugs Gina's curves nicely. My wife has taken to wearing her blonde hair down recently, and it spilled down in waves onto her shoulders, the light color of her hair offset by the dark fabric of the dress. We kidded about being heavy hitters at the casino. We were playing dress-up and were going to enjoy it.
Arriving at the casino, we immediately hit the bar. The two of us looked like a million, and I wanted to enjoy the evening with a martini in hand. Gina felt the same way, and with a quick word to the bartender, were immediately holding a pair of glasses, filled to the brim with clear liquid. Gina had an olive, while my drink was graced with a twist of lemon. We scanned the casino. There were a number of older women and men playing the slots, shoving tokens carelessly into the machines, hoping for the payout with the surety that it would come with the next pull of the bar. Gina and I weren't there for the slots, though. Nobody gets dressed up for slot machines. It's not gambling.
The table games looked more interesting. Most of the blackjack tables were filled. There were a couple people playing at the craps table, and the roulette tables were very popular. I asked Gina what game she wanted to play. She glanced around the room quickly before her eyes settled on the roulette wheel. She nodded. "There," she said. "I've got a good feeling tonight James. I'm feeling lucky tonight."
I grinned as I sipped my drink. She felt lucky every time she walked into a casino.
I took her hand and we walked through the lights and the noise to the spinning wheel. Dropping a hundred dollar chip onto the table, the croupier exchanged it for one hundred individual red chips. The chips bore no marking, they were simply to identify Gina's bets. She quickly placed her chips down on the cloth and the wheel was spun. The ball clicked, rolling the opposite direction of the spinning wheel until caught by one of the recessed numbers. Black 33. Gina collected her winnings, which amounted to only a small portion of her losses. Roulette's a funny game that way. There are lots of bets to make, lots of ways to win, and even more ways to lose.
After half an hour or so of playing, Gina was doing fairly well. That is to say that she was only down around twenty-five dollars. She's definitely gotten her money's worth, yelling and cheering with every spin of the wheel. Clapping in excitement as the ball rolled her way and groaning when it didn't.
Another young couple approached the table. Like Gina and myself, they were also dressed to the nines: he was wearing a light-gray double-breasted pinstripe suit. She was a tall blonde, wearing a blue cocktail dress with a low neckline that hugged her tight curves and exposed her ample cleavage. He was holding a highball filled with a dark golden liquid in hand. In his other he had a number of chips. She was sipping from a martini glass filled with pink. A cosmopolitan, I guessed. I smiled and nodded a greeting at them.
The blonde smiled back at me and pointed out the table to her companion. She said something softly into his ear, and he shook his head in agreement. Coming near the table, he waited for everyone to place bets. Then he took a single chip and held it up to the blonde. She kissed it, and he tossed it onto the table, telling the croupier to put it on the five square, straight up. The chip was black with whiter stripes: a hundred dollars. The rest of the table grew quiet; everyone had been playing dollar bets, and the sight of a single hundred-dollar bet on the table was a thing to be watched.
The croupier asked for last bets and then spun the roulette wheel. The black and red colors blurred together as the ball was launched opposite of the spin. The crowd gathered around the table watched intensely as the ball fell down into the rotating wheel. It clicked against the wheel's wood, bounced across several different numbers, fell across others and finally settled into one of the sectors: red five.
We all let our breath out in amazement. Red five. A payoff of thirty-five to one. The blonde smiled graciously as we all clapped. The dealer took out a large stack of hundred dollar chips and started counting out the man's winnings in small, squat stacks of five hundred dollars apiece. The chips were pushed across the table to him, and he gathered them up, smiling. Then he took one of the chips and tipped the dealer. He then turned to all the other players, thanked them, and gave every one of them, including my wife, a single hundred-dollar chip. The blonde took his arm and they walked away, well over twenty-five hundred dollars the richer.
Eventually Gina had played out her initial stake. We still had the black chip given to us by the unknown man, so we decided to treat ourselves to a drink at the bar. To our surprise, the couple was there, enjoying a bottle of champagne. I couldn't blame them: If I'd won a straight up bet in roulette with a hundred dollar bet, I'd be celebrating as well. I introduced myself and my wife and discovered that his name was Travis and hers Christine. I asked if I could buy them a drink, an offer which they graciously accepted.
We chit-chatted for a bit. They were as stunned as we were when his number came up. We laughed and the drinks kept coming. Eventually, after a number of glasses of champagne, martinis and the odd cosmopolitan, Christine suggested that the four of us go dancing. There were a number of bars on the ship that had music for dancing, so we readily agreed. We left the casino, somewhat less than surefooted. Between the effect of the alcohol and the slight swaying of the ship, it's a minor miracle that I was able to make it to the next bar without falling down.
The bar we arrived at was called "Latitudes." It was dimly lit, and was playing old jazz standards. It was fairly crowded with younger couples; the dance floor was fairly packed. The four of us sat down at a table, ordered a round of drinks and watched the people dancing. Before long we were up, mingling among the dancers. I danced with Gina while Travis danced with Christine. After a while we swapped partners.
At first Christine and I danced like strangers, a little cold and standoffish. After all, I was married and she was on board with her boyfriend. After the second song, though, we warmed to each other. Then a slow song started and Christine pulled me closer to her body. She nuzzled my neck, kissing it softly. I immediately looked around for Gina and Travis. I couldn't see them anywhere. Christine felt that I was initially uncomfortable. "Relax," she said. "I'm sure they're having fun somewhere together." Then she straddled my leg as we danced, rubbing herself against my thigh. In the dark light of the club, I don't think anyone noticed. Christine moaned softly as she kissed the base of my neck. My hands roved across her back down to her waist, pulling her harder against my thigh. As I did so, Christine bucked her hips softly against me, moaning with desire.
We gyrated against each other as the other couples danced around us. I let my hands fall lower to her ass, discreetly massaging her firm flesh. Christine reached down and brushed her hand against my cock. I don't need to say that it was straining against my suit. I was horny, and I wanted the tall blonde that was thrusting her body against mine.
"I want you," she said in my ear. "Let's go somewhere private."
She moved away from me and took my hand, leading me off the dance floor. We went out the back entrance of the club into a narrow hallway running to another bar and the main area of the ship. There were bathrooms on the side of the hallway. Christine led me inside the women's restroom and quickly locked the door behind us.
As soon as the lock clicked, our lips were all over each other. I reached down to massage her breasts through the sheer material of her dress. Her nipples were hard. She reached up and ran her hands along the sides of my body. Our tongues paused their kissing only to pause for breath. Then we kissed again.
I rubbed her nipple with my thumb and then reached down to the hemline of her dress. I pulled her dress up, reaching between her legs. She wasn't wearing panties. She was also sopping wet. I ran my hand up and down her slit before gently sliding a finger inside of her. As I penetrated her slick pussy, she moaned loudly and pushed her body against the palm of my hand.
"God, I'm so horny," she said as she started fumbling at my belt. I could only groan in agreement. My cock was aching for release.
My pants were quickly dropped to the floor. Christine started kissing down my body, getting down on her knees in front of me. I reached down, holding her blonde hair in my hands as she took my erect cock into her warm mouth. The sensation was electric, and my knees buckled. If I hadn't been standing against the wall of the restroom, I probably would have fallen over. I'd never been given head so well.
Christine kept her oral attention firmly devoted to my cock, and I fucked her face wildly. She would take the base of my cock in her hand and pump it slowly. Then she would start to massage my balls as she sucked my just with her mouth. Then she'd reach behind my ass, pulling my cock into her face. I was feeling drunk and high and I could feel my orgasm building deep within me.
Before I came, I pulled Christine away from my cock. It was the best blowjob I'd ever received, but I really wanted to fuck her pussy. I pulled her to her feet and turned her around so that her ass pushed up against my cock. She bent over, grasping the sink for support and spread her legs. After pulling up her dress, I grabbed the base of my dick and aimed it at her wet hole. She was so turned on that I slid right into her.
I reached down to hold her hips for support. Grasping her body strongly, I started thrusting in and out of her slipper cunt. She pushed back against my cock, grinding her pussy onto my stick. She was really worked up, and I knew that it wasn't going to take long for either one of us to come. She turned her head back to look at me. "Fuck me," she moaned. "Fuck my pussy." Then she dropped her head down between her arms, letting it hand loosely as I pounded into her cunt. Every thrust of my cock echoed through her body, pushing her against the sink and causing her hair to swing back and forth.
She reached between her legs and started rubbing her clit wildly. Her breathing grew rapid; She was about to come. Then I felt her pussy clench at the base of my cock as she came. It was as if she was trying to draw me inside of her. I couldn't stand any more and I came, shooting pulse after pulse of come into her pussy.
We rested for a minute before smiling at each other. She cleaned the come from her pussy, pulled her dress down over herself and we left back for the club.
When we got there, I saw that Gina and Travis were sitting at the bar, enjoying a cigarette together. My wife's dress was wrinkled and her hair was ruffled. I smiled at her as Christine and I approached the bar. I wasn't the only one who'd gotten lucky.
| Back | Index | Next |