Outstripped (18 page)

"They
don't do that type of cabaret on board ships though," she thought.
"Maybe that's another thing I could look into?"

After
changing for Dinner and departure, Jody found her way to the Lido Bar on the top
deck for a refreshing alcoholic beverage. Finding an available tall fixed stool
at the end of the bar she placed her clutch on top and climbed aboard as
gracefully as she could. One of the barmen acknowledged her and she didn't have
to wait long for some customary service with a smile.

"What
would you suggest on a balmy tropical evening like this?" asked Jody.

"Well,
have you ever had a 'Tom Collins'? It’s Gin, lemon juice, sugar syrup and soda
water. Very refreshing and a great way to start the evening."

"Sounds
like a bit of me. I'll have one of those please."

The
barman did his best to impress with his bottle juggling and condiment throwing
routine, and it worked. Passing comments and friendly chat definitely helps to
break the ice and make everyone feel part of the occasion, even if you are on
your own, like Jody.

From her
preferred vantage point, she watched the throngs of passengers at the railings
and glass windbreakers milling and shuffling to get the best view of their
departure. One very long, loud and booming blast on the ship's whistle (not
exactly a toot) let her know something was about to happen.

"It
means we're about to leave Port.
"
said the
barman, second guessing Jody's perplexed look.

A minute
later there were three more short blasts.

"I am
operating astern propulsion," he said, "Well, not me. The ship!"
he added, laughing out loud.

Jody
swung round on her stool, legs together, 'classy fashion' in her short, blue,
sequined, strappy cocktail dress. Her clutch was now in her lap and she looked
very much the part. Long straight blonde hair pinned back behind her ear on one
side. The stares from men and women were plentiful and nothing she wasn't used
to. But for now she belonged to the barman, and he prepared another 'Tom
Collins' for her, without her need to ask. This was Sam's forte.

Out
through 'Government Cut' and past 'Fisher Island' on the starboard side. The
'Meridian Glory' slowly, effortlessly made its way out to sea. The tugs 'stood
off', but accompanied the ship through the channel. Smoke from the funnels just
added to the enchantment and gave the moment, and movement, some tangibility
and association with the tradition of maritime manoeuvres. It was almost
impossible to tell they were afloat, at sea, or moving for that matter. It was
so
smooth. Where was all the rocking and
rolling? Jody wondered. Not that she wanted it.

Just to
add to their enjoyment, the sun slowly disappeared on cue, for the passengers,
offering a picture perfect, silhouetted view of the Miami skyline against its bright
orange glow. "What better way to signal time for Dinner, than sunset?"
thought
Jody.
"They've got control of
everything!"

She'd
been booked on to the second sitting for 1930hrs (seven thirty pm) and was
ushered to her designated table by the maitre d'. Dinner was semi formal,
meaning, 'not Black Tie', and had a relaxed atmosphere. Jody enjoyed her time
with the mixed selection of passengers at her table but decided to make a
relatively quiet evening of it, owing to the serious amount of travelling she'd
undertaken over the last 24 hours. A few wines with dinner was all she needed,
finished off with an Irish Coffee in her stateroom, courtesy of Jomari, and a
good night's sleep took over.

The
following morning she was rudely awoken by the sun, streaming in through
rapidly drawn curtains.
Once again courtesy of her shadow
servant Jomari.

"Doesn't
he ever sleep?" she wondered.

"Good
morning Jody." Jomari almost sang to her. She wasn't sure, once again,
whether it was his accent or his effeminate way, or "Did he just put it on
for effect?"

"Morning
Jomari," she said, "where are we?"

Now a
better question would have been "What
time
is it?" since any self-respecting adventurer or global traveller, with an
ounce of navigational or survival skill, could have worked out from the
itinerary where they were likely to be positioned.

 
They were, in fact, heading for the Panama
Canal via Cartagena in Columbia, but their route was through Windward Passage,
which is the channel between Cuba and Haiti. Since the ship travelled at
approximately eighteen knots Jody could have easily calculated their estimated
position (had she known the time to be 0800hrs) to be fourteen hours or so from
Miami, equating to two hundred and fifty two nautical miles. This would put
them near the intersection of the 'Santaren' and 'Olas' Channels ready for
passage through the narrow and potentially dangerous 'Old Bahama Channel'. This
could all be corroborated by the streaming sunshine through her port side
balcony windows since they were heading in a South Easterly direction.

As it
was, Jody didn't give a crap about all that 'cub scout' bullshit. It was far
easier to ask where they were, and a simultaneous, welcome cup of real coffee
to go with her less taxed and mentally challenged morning moment. She donned
her dressing gown to provide a little modesty whilst Jomari busied himself
tending to her luxury. He had actually told her they were between the Bahamas
and Cuba whilst I was rabbiting on.

"Will
that be all?" He enquired.

"Yes,
thank you, but I might need your help later. I believe it’s a formal Dinner
tonight?" Jody really did want a little assistance in the outfit-choosing
department but she mainly wanted to see which way his bread was buttered.

The
first day of this complementary cruise was kept free for Jody to 'find her
feet', locate her 'sea legs' and establish herself on board. There would be
plenty of time over the next two weeks for accompanied visits to the strategic
hubs, to see the sights, to engage the staff, to enjoy the splendour and the
service and to test out all the fun and frivolous functions of the modern day
liner.

So today
would be spent relaxing. Sun bathing, ocean gazing and people watching and a
good pair of dark glasses come in very handy when you are in 'ogling' mode. The
darker the better, or, for the ultimate in beach and pool side voyeurism, she
was told by one of her particularly lecherous male counterparts, if you need
your hobby to remain undetected, mirrored sunglasses are without equal. But you
still need to be good at sideways glancing. European beaches remain firmly at
the top of the 'body watchers, boobs and budgie-smugglers' list, since topless
sunbathing is the norm. And who doesn't admire a stunning pair of boobs or a six-pack
when they see them. Having said that, there are a lot of boobs and complete
bodies for that matter, which simply should not be on display under any
circumstance.

"Why
don't they know that?" Jody thought.

Anyway
she didn't have any mirrored sunglasses, just good quality dark ones, and she
wasn't too concerned about being caught looking anyway. It’s yet another one of
those liberties that good-looking women can get away with. Kids, men and ugly
people don't stand a chance.

"Ah,
what the hell, people spend all day looking at me."

Jody,
her body, her boobs and her bikini received a considerable amount of attention
themselves, and not always in the subtlest of ways. Yellow was her choice for
today and it looked stunning, as usual, against her pre-bronzed, long and
slender frame. She'd bought the skimpy swimsuit, or rather tethered
eye-patches, in one of those swim and surf shops in Miami the last time she was
there. You just don't get the same choice in England. It’s probably something
to do with the lack of sunshine and opportunity to wear them. She was doing
formidable justice and 'Pinky and Perky', as always, were real crowd pleasers,
though, in an attendance of a thousand plus people there were a few other
contenders for the spot light and everyone's attention.

The male
of the species weren't so well represented.
Too many
Sasquatches, oldies and beer bellies.
The 'Cruise Ship Body Watcher's
Manual' generally advises that couples, retirees and old ladies make up the
majority of passenger lists, unless you're on one of the cheaper holiday camp style
cruises, and then you can't move for the kids. Young ladies are more prevalent
than young men since they are generally paid for and are happy to go just for
the sun and relaxation. Young men tend to need a little more action and haven't
got the money for cruises anyway.

Jody,
never the less, was feeling lucky. This wasn't a cheap cruise but nor was it
full of the purple rinse brigade. She was keeping her eyes peeled, though no
one presented themselves as 'fitting the bill' before lunch.

After a
light fulfillment from the Lido Bar snack menu, and another hour or so on the
teak steamer, it was time to seek out her pre-booked activity for the day.

Making
her way down to 'H-deck' she studied the artwork and the route maps carefully
since she didn't have a ball of twine 'a la Theseus in the Minotaur's maze'.
Having found her destination, she entered. The 'spa maidens' were awaiting her
arrival and the attention and service they offered was just wonderful. She may
as well have been in ancient Crete or a roman spa. It just had that feel to it.
Indulgence, luxury, leisure and pleasure without effort or
guilt or consequence.
There were no men here either so flesh and the
flashing thereof was not an issue.

Having
stripped down to the standard 'towel only' attire, Jody was shown in to her
treatment room. The decor was cavern like, the music was relaxing and the
sweet, heady smell and ambiance of candles and incense just completed the mood.
Her first treatment was a head massage and facial. Pampering of any description
is reward in itself but when someone else is paying for a quality, high-end
version it is so, so good. Decadent even.

Jody
gave in to her personal 'spa maiden' and allowed her to massage away the
pressures, unwind the spring coils from the last few months and de-stress the
tensions in her neck and her brow. Mount Olympians never had it so good. After
a
five minute
relaxation between treatments she was
almost asleep when the Eastern European miracle worker offered her some water
to keep up her fluids.

Next it
was the full body massage. This required a shortening of the modesty towel at
both ends and out came the oils. The masseuse applied the aromatic, sweet
smelling lubricant liberally to her hands and began with Jody's neck, chest and
shoulders. The kneading, rubbing, stretching and pressing took Jody to new
heights. It had been a while since she'd treated herself. The warmth created by
the oils suggested magical powers for muscle relaxation and a healing,
rejuvenating detoxification for her skin.

"It’s
amazing what you can get out of a little bottle and some gentle but firm
fingers," Jody considered, eyes closed, in heaven, in an almost 'sinfully
high' condition. The fingers were sliding further and further down Jody's
chest, just edging under the towel a little more dangerously each time. This
was just bliss. She hadn't even considered any naughty overtures for these
activities but now she couldn't keep the thoughts at bay.

The
hands took each arm in turn and deeply massaged oils from shoulder to fingertips.
Over and over, digging thumbs in and squeezing muscles, her maiden seemed to be
drawing all tension to a head for release into thin air at her fingertips. The
male phallus and all its associated metaphors were doing somersaults in Jody's
now confused but pleasured brain. The secret universe behind closed eyes is
your own and it can take you anywhere you want to go. Anywhere.

Even
more oil was administered, and next it was a turn for the tenderloins. The
thigh massage went deep, then deeper, then longer, then higher and if Jody
considered her maiden of manipulation was a little risqué above breasts then
now she was almost inappropriate. Trouble was, behind closed eyes Jody didn't
care. Inappropriate didn't exist. There was only selfishness, indulgence and
pleasure. Whosoever wished to attend to her needs would be allowed. Encouraged
even. The towel rose higher, and higher, and strong, feminine fingers forced
feelings further and further towards Jody’s fornication factory."

"This
is good," Jody thought. "Was it intentional? Does she want me? Should
I open my eyes? Should I respond?"

The
hands retreated down Jody's legs to perform the same elongated stroking routine
as on her arms. Thighs to toes now got the masturbation treatment. And then it
all stopped. Jody rejoined the candlelit cavern and was offered the water once
again.

Time to
turn over. Now this required removal of the modesty towel, which under normal
circumstances wasn't an issue but Jody was now pink cheeked and chested with a
hint of firmness around the nipple area.

"Maybe
it would send the right signals. Maybe it would all go unnoticed. Maybe it was
all in her head, and just maybe she didn't even swing that way. Well I bet I
can get her to swing, or maybe I should just lie down and let her carry on. Yes
.....
That’s probably the best thing to do."