Seven Days Aboard

"We should try the escape room," I said excitedly, after my first long sip of Bloody Mary. Adrian and Sophia had gotten us a great table, right by the glass.

The three of them looked at each other. "Have you not listened to anything about this trip over the last three months?" Adrian shot back. "We booked a sesh back in March for all four of us, later on in the cruise."

I frowned at her. "I don't like to plan..." I began to refrain.

The three of them cut me off. "'...when I'm on vacation,'" they finished for me in unison. I drank more Bloody Mary to hide my smile.

After a few minutes, Adrian frowned as she looked out the window intently, then at her watch. "Aren't we supposed to have cast off by now?" she asked in a mildly puzzled tone.

We all looked out more carefully, and there was indeed no activity on the ship's deck, nor dockside around the giant ropes that held us still firmly to the pier.

As if on cue, there was a paging tone over hidden speakers, and an insanely sexy, Italian-accented, male voice spoke. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain, Captain Giuseppe speaking. Welcome to the Wanderer. The crew and I look forward to our week with you all," he said in his deep but lilting voice. "Many of you will have noticed that we have not yet cast off. I wish to tell you that we will not do so for several more hours yet. As some of you know, there is a terrible late spring storm battering the northeastern United States, and air travel today has beenun incubo... a nightmare."

The four of us looked at each other smugly. Departure from DFW had been smooth sailing for us, though there were lots of delayed or cancelled flights for domestic travelers.

"Many of our American guests' flights have been delayed, or even tragically cancelled. Our shore office has been monitoring those passengers. There was brief window where the New York and Philadelphia airports reopened, but that quickly passed. Still, there are still three flights that made it into the air with a number of your fellow voyagers on them, and we shall wait to welcome them aboard. Alas, many others will not reach us in time. We have a long sail before our first port of call in Barbados, and must depart as soon as possible."

"For those of you wanting to observe our departure, I will make another announcement when we are thirty minutes from that happy event. In the meantime, all other scheduled dining and activities aboard will remain as planned. Thank you all. Perhaps, since I have to drive," he added, his smile audible in his voice, "you could raise a toast on my behalf to your three hundred or so American friends who will have to enjoy the Wanderer's pleasures on a future cruise." There was another paging tone, and that voice was gone.

We looked at each other and shrugged. No skin off our noses. We raised our glasses. "Sucks to be a yankee," I observed. We drank to hapless travelers spending their April in snowbound Newark Airport.

"Okay," Adrian said, dismissing the people that would not make the cruise. "To more important stuff. Does that Captain Giuseppe have the sexiest voice, or what?"

We all grimaced in agreement.

"I wonder what it would take to do the captain of a cruise ship?" Kimmie wondered. The rest of us squawked in scandalized giggles.

"You realize that he is probably 60, with a potbelly, and a wife on board?" I scoffed.

"So?" Kimmie asked. Jesus, this trip had her horny. "Daisy, don't tell me there is no way you wouldn't do him anyway, just to hear that voice tell you how wonderful you make him feel."

"Not if there is a wife, on-board or otherwise!" I said, aghast.

"So you do have circumstances where you'd do him," Adrian observed in amusement. "Well girls, we have found Miss I'm Not Interested In Men On This Cruise's breaking point. She will begrudgingly settle for fucking the Captain of the whole ship!"

We all started to giggle, then gasped and fell silent as we realized that our cocktail server had chosen that exact moment to appear at our table, almost certainly overhearing that last sentence. We looked at her in ill-concealed horror and she just blandly handed out our next round.

Last, she bent down over the table to hand me my second Bloody, and looked me in the eye. "Been there, done that," the cute little Indian girl whispered. "Worth it..." Then she was gone.

It doesn't matter whether what she said was remotely true or not, in any way. I could physically see her eventual tips from each of us doubling at that very moment.

I endured a nice patch of ribbing from the others for a bit, before we moved on to other matters. It turned out that most of the crowd in the Eagle's nest was on the mature side for this passenger manifest. And all joking about the Captain aside, none of us were really that into older men. We put the drinks on our unlimited drink passes, and handsomely tipped our ever bland-faced server, then took the remainder of our drinks down two levels to the main pool deck. It was crowded with many of the passengers our age, and it was quite the party, with a steel drum band and a moderately talented singer.

We finished our drinks expeditiously and then spent the next hour with our shoes off, grooving to the music and standing in the pool, almost fifty percent of which was only just more than ankle deep. From my cruise to Alaska, I knew that the water would slosh around here once we put to sea, and this would be a great place to relax and just lie back, letting the water splash over me then drain away. It had been fun to do it in Alaska, though weird with the chilly air. Here in the heat, it would be awesome.

I looked around at the crowd, surveying the people around us. There was an extraordinary number of people our age, or near abouts. I kept on looking some more, but didn't see what I was looking for.

I imagined lying here in this shallow terrace, in the sun, with the water swirling around from the movement of the ship, in my black bikini, or maybe even the red one... I really was not on this trip to pick up guys, but what girl doesn't enjoy some respectfully hungry looks? I'd get them in the black one for sure, no need to go for the red one with all the strings. I didn't even know why I had brought that one.

I kept looking, but I never saw that guy from the line. What was his deal anyway...?

I shook my head. I didn't need any specific guys, or any random guys for that matter, to worry about. Still, I did not mind some nice, bare, masculine torsos, or tight, manly butts to check out as I relaxed. I wasn't in the market, but I wasn't dead. And there were plenty of guys already soaking in the sun now, before we even left the dock.

I nudged Sophia and subtly pointed out to her one African-American (African-European?) guy who was shorter than me, but who clearly lived at the gym.

"Already seen," Sophia murmured, but happily took another look. He was a dish, and from her expression, my friend might try taking a bite. Had I not moved on in my life from hook-up situations, I might have taken a nibble on that one myself.

The good thing about being not on the prowl, but not in a relationship either, was that I could mack on as many dudes as I wanted, guilt free. And I had to admit, Sophia had picked out a cruise with more than ample macking opportunities.

I continued to scan the crowd, not sure how to place my nagging frustration. After a bottle of water and a frozen strawberry daiquiri, I was grooving to the music when the all-aboard whistle blew, and we heard the captain (Christ, that voice!) tell us that the last passengers the ship could afford to wait for had arrived dockside, and we would soon be departing.

We consulted our watches, and realized that we ought to go change for dinner. The sun was getting low, and our dining time would be coming up soon. It had been decided in my absence, but with my hearty approval, to stick with the traditional main dining room for our dinners together. It was included after all, and none of us, even Kimmie, was made of money. My three friends all clearly hoped to miss out on a few nights of course, if some guy or other asked one of them to one of the small, specialty dining restaurants.

That would be fine with me. Even if they all got a date on the same evening, I'd eat alone, and order all their desserts for myself.

I changed to a fresh sundress, since our luggage had appeared, but Kimmie just put on regular jeans and kept her 'look at my tits' top on. The first night was a casual evening, after all.

Our seating was assigned, and as we entered the huge, beautiful dining room, we were shown to our table. As we approached, I was stunned to see my guy from the line, sitting at a table just three away from ours.

Almost without thinking, I quickened my steps and got to the table first, seating myself facing directly toward him. I blushed when I realized I'd done it. But I didn't move...

Moments after we were seated at our table for eight, our dining companions for the week arrived. They were two couples, maybe ten years older than us, and all four attractive enough that I winced about whether Kimmie could keep her flirtiness under control and not piss off the wives over the course of the week.

Turns out, they were French. I knew instantly that they were not from Paris because, well, none of them were ginormous dickweeds. I found out over the course of dinner that I was right. They were wine distributors from Provence. The only problem with having them for table companions was that they were super intimidating with their wine knowledge, and condescendingly viewed Adrian and myself astrés amusant because of our preference for cocktails over the grape with dinner.

But they were still very cool, and I looked forward to dining with them for the week. And the French thing was a blessing, since Kimmie really could not retrain herself from flirting. Being French, both guys flirted back just as hard with her and, well, with all of us. The wives just smiled at us like we were adorable kittens whenever it went on.

But goddamn it, I kept checking out of the conversation. That guy was sitting over there at his table, chatting happily with his obviously European table-mates, and ignoring the three empty seats at his table. Had those people missed the boat? Was that why he was alone?

Would he like someone to sit at his table with him?

I shook my head and returned my gaze to my own friends and table companions. I really needed to get back out there on the social scene when we got home to Dallas. I was waiting for relationship material, but the wait was getting long, and my body was signaling its impatience.

*

It was nearly ten by the time we finished dinner and all left the dining hall. Our new French friends left with the women hanging more than a little suggestively on their men. They headed straight for the elevators, and asses were being massaged right out in the open as they walked away.

"Looks like there is more than dessert on the menu tonight," Sophia snickered.

"I think it is sweet, seeing married people acting that horny," Adrian said firmly.

"Maybe the wives were just laying their claims all over again," I snarked. "I thought Antoine was going to stick his tongue down Kimmie's throat a couple of times during dinner."

"I think I'd have let him..." Kimmie drawled, almost to herself.

"In front of his wife?" I snorted. Even Kimmie would not go there, and we all knew it.

"Oh, like you wouldn't do Antoine in a heartbeat," Kimmie retorted, almost contemptuously.

I looked at her. Adrian and Sophia were looking at me a little challengingly. It was time to remind them, and myself, that whatever my intentions, I was not becoming a prude.

"I'd actually prefer Etienne," I said loftily. That got a snort or two. "But yeah, were I of a mind, I'd fuck either one of them... in the right circumstances--which are not on board a boat for seven days... with their wives!" I glared at Kimmie in particular.

"Easy there, Sheriff," Kimmie laughed. "I'm guessing there are three hundred doable single guys on this cruise, I think I can hold off on the married ones."

"I don't know," mused Sophia as we walked through the casino. "I'm with you on Etienne, Daisy. And how cool would it be to be a frenchman's mistress?" she asked dreamily.

Sophia was watching way too much Emily in Paris. Or rather, she hadn't watched enough of it yet...

What functioned as the main deck of the ship was one flight of stairs up from the casino and dining room. It held in its core a huge atrium plaza with several expensive specialty restaurants, a few super cool bars, and lots of interesting European brandname stores. To either side, and running upward for several decks, were stateroom windows that overlooked. Sophia and Adrian pointed out theirs. It did look like it had a good view of all the festivities down here.

And there were a lot of festivities going on. There was a four piece jazz band playing in an ornate gazebo in the center of the plaza, with a sexy male singer belting out Sinatra and Bublé tunes. It was crowded with people, mostly the younger part of the passenger manifest, but plenty of forty-somethings were getting their groove on too.

The four of us shouldered our way through the crowd to where the dancing was thickest and started getting down a little ourselves. Mostly we danced in a square together, but get enough booze in Kimmie and she decides she wants to show off her six months of Arthur Murray classes from three years ago, thus she and I had to do some turns at The Hustle and Cha-Cha together. We always break it off pretty quickly because we both want to lead.

But no No Guys The First Night pact survives contact with the enemy. Soon one or another of my friends were getting peeled away to dance with some guy or another, rejoining us after a song or two. As the hour progressed, our core group went from averaging all four of us together, to three, to usually only two.

Even I found myself dancing with a fairly plain-looking guy who nevertheless could dance up a storm. He didn't ask or anything, we just sort of were dancing all of a sudden. I found myself really enjoying the next two songs, but when a slower number came next, I smiled and dashed the dreams I had seen forming in his eyes by returning to Sophia and Adrian. Kimmie was still off, temporarily breaking the pact.

But at last, the inevitable happened, I found myself alone in the middle of the dance floor, dancing with myself. Or rather, I was dancing with about a half-dozen guys nearby, while trying to make sure I didn't dance with any of them specifically. I like dancing. I like it a lot. But it kind of makes me horny, and I did not see any of the guys around me as horniness material.

If I had been in the market to scratch that itch in the first place.

My buddies would return eventually, I knew. Even Kimmie... probably. But I was done. Dancing and holding back did not easily go hand in hand for me.

I slipped from the crowd and made my way to the aft stairs. It was seven flights up to deck twelve and a return visit to the Eagle's Nest bar. My legs were feeling it by the time I got to the top, which was the point of taking the stairs, right?

As I had hoped, the Eagle's Nest was full but not crowded, and had a chill vibe late at night. There was no live music, just background tracks on the PA, though I did see that there was a stage. I assumed that there would be live entertainment up here on some days or nights.

I made my way through the room filled with mostly older passengers, mostly couples, and spied an open seat at the bar. I pounced on it and slid into place. The handsome older Chinese bartender saw me approaching and was asking me for my order before I even got my ass fully situated.

Premium Drink Package, right? I asked for a Russell's Reserve Single Barrel Rye Manhattan. The bartender smiled and turned to his station. I looked around.

As I turned to my right, the man sitting there idly turned to return my gaze.

It was Line Guy.

"Oh, hi," we both blurted out.

Shit. I had just told him I recognized him. That was tantamount to admitting that I was staring at him all that time in line. Had he seen me staring at him during dinner too? Shit.

"Hey, listen," he said swiftly. Even his voice had that certain something about it. "About the embarkation line..."

"Oh, geez," I interrupted, blushing again, I was sure. Hopefully the low lighting would hide it. "I'm sorry..."

"No," he interrupted back. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been staring. But I was alone in the line and my eyes just naturally fixated. I didn't mean to be rude."

He had been staring at me too? So I had gotten away with staring at him? Oh, thank God. This could have been embarrassing. But I hated for him to feel bad. He seemed alone on this boat and that had to suck.

"Oh, you couldn't have been staring at me all that much," I reassured him. "Most of the times I looked at you, you weren't looking at me."

What. The Fuck. Did I just say?

"I... I mean... you kind of stood out in that crowd, being all by yourself," I stumbled on.

His eyes had widened when I admitted staring at him, but now he smiled wryly. "Yeah."

I actually caught myself in time not to say the next words loaded up for delivery on my lips. Then I said them anyway. "But what made you stare at me?"

He definitely blushed at that. I hoped it distracted him from my own deepening flush. "Uh..." he hesitated, then he grinned and straightened his spine a little. "Sometimes a guy just fixates on a pretty girl?"

My Manhattan arrived, rescuing me from directly addressing that reply. I practically snatched at it, and took a delicious sip. He backed off his body language and took a long pull on his draft beer.

I could not help but re-engage though. This was too good an opportunity to satisfy my curiosity about this guy, so I could move on and enjoy my vacation without fucking thinking about him all the time.

"So, are you really on a cruise all by yourself?" I asked quickly.

He grimaced. "Apparently so. It was not the plan, in so many ways."

"Those three empty seats at your table?" I asked softly. "Did they miss their flight, with the storm and all?"

"You saw me at dinner tonight?" he asked, derailed by the revelation.

And... I was busted again. Worse, this time he wasn't busted along with me.

"You are just three tables away from me," I said sheepishly. "You were right in my line of sight, and the three empty seats stood out."

"There were lots of tables with empty seats."

"Yeah, but yours were right in my line of sight," I repeated. And those seats were right next to you...

He stared at me, grinning. "My name's Dale," he said, extending his hand.

"Daisy," I replied casually. We shared a friendly, businesslike handshake.

I took a drink and gathered my thoughts.

Looking for a safe topic of conversation, I asked, "So tell me about the empty seats. Your buddies get caught in the weather?"

"My parents are still in Buffalo, I assume," he said with a sad, but not heartbroken smile.

"Parents?" I asked, with a raised eyebrow. He still went on vacation with his parents?

He grinned, apparently hearing my unspoken challenge. "Paying for a cruise is an excellent way to convince your 27 year-old son to spend a week's vacation where he can't get away."

"Amazing," I said, around another sip. "You paid a weather witch to shut down the entire northeast, just to foil your mom's plot to fuss over you for seven uninterrupted days?"

"There is no level I won't stoop to," he replied, enjoying his beer in turn.

That was it. He lived in New York of all places. At least now I knew for sure that he'd be the sort of dead-end fling I was specifically avoiding on this trip. I could relax around him now.