Voyage of Self Discovery Ch. 08

Copyright © February 2020 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Author's Notes

Foreword #1: All sexually active characters in this story are over 18.

Foreword #2: This is a story and intended purely for pleasure.

Foreword #3: This is an eighth chapter in the Voyage of Self Discovery series. Although there is a little recap at the start of the story, you may want to read the earlier parts to get up to speed with the journey so far.

Foreword #4: This story was inspired from a suggestion from a fellow reader, Bablee, whose name I have used in the story but for no other purpose than having a name for a character.

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It was my darling husband who bought me this notebook, leather bound with gold trimmings, as an homage to my fifty years. It was my darling husband who also suggested I put it to good use. He even bought the pen that I have been using to write my memoirs. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to remember that it is a real story and one in which I was the centre of all attention.

So now my love life is better than it's ever been—okay, now that I am a little over fifty it is more about the quality than the quantity, but it is still better than ever. In my time away, I learnt much about myself and even more about my relationship with my darling husband. I just felt compelled to record what have been the best years of my life.

My introduction to this new world, at the ripe young age of forty-something, had been tentative to say the least. It started with a stranger on the top deck of a cruise ship. As I watched his wife getting ravaged by another's cock, he sat unperturbed and pleasured me past the point of no return.

It was just the start and left many a question to be answered. One by one they were, but for each which was answered another took its place. The more I found out, the more I wanted to discover, and so it was that I set embarked on my own pleasure cruise.

"You can go as fast or as slow as you want, everything is in your hands . . . mouth . . . pussy . . . and ass!" were the words of my wonderful teacher.

Given such a fantastic opportunity, I was going to make the most of every moment, and there were many. The only question now was which of the fantastic encounters would make it into my journal.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Inside, my heart was pounding. I hadn't been able to relax all day. It was for real. Today was the day and there was no turning back. I walked those last few steps, glancing at cabin door after cabin door. Inside the flutter in my stomach was increasing in line with the painted cabin numbers. One by one, I watched them rise towards my target.

And then I was there, standing right outside the door. It was just like all the others, except for the number 43 in silver writing. I stood there, raising a hand to announce my arrival. Still my stomach was doing cartwheels, just thinking about where I had come from, and where I was about to go. This was my first duty as a coveted black shirt.

All I had to do was rap my knuckles on the hard surface. Instead though, my mind was churning. Did I have everything? Was I fully prepared? Would she like me? Over and over in my mind, I ran through my every preparation, my last few hours playing out in front of me.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dressed in nothing more than a large bath towel—the soft fabric wrapped tightly around my every curve; its whiteness made all the more brilliant by the contrast with my darker olive-brown skin tones—I sat myself down in front of my dressing table. If I was going to do this, then I was going to feel good in myself. A raging shower had offered refreshment, and a sense of fresh cleanliness.

I sat there and pampered myself. Long hair was fixed up in a sort of rolled low bun, held in place by a pair of hair sticks. Oh yes, that was the look, somewhere between sassy chic and smart professional. Lucy wanted me to show her a good time, and I was intent on treating her right. If she wanted slutty trash, then she would have simply asked for sex. A touch of understated colour around the eyes and the most subtle of rouge lipsticks, had me looking the part.

Dispensing with the towel, I couldn't help but take a full-length view in the mirror. If I didn't know it was my own reflection, I might even have fallen for the confident woman who smiled back at me. I had to stop myself from standing there and caressing my every curve. Hopefully that would come later, but for now it was time to cover up. I had everything already laid out on the bed and methodically worked from inside to out. A pair of black stay ups was followed by a mid-thigh length short black skirt, and finally my cherished black shirt.

There was something about that shirt. Was it the way it clung close over my upper body, moulding my ample bust into soft rounded pillows? Was it the subtle embroidered message— 'Liberation Cruises, Where Dreams Come True' —emblazoned across one breast? Was it just the way I felt twenty years younger the minute I squeezed inside? I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was, but for sure I was no longer the forty-something year old mother who had boarded this cruise ship.

A pair of heels, low rise rather than killer, made up the outfit. A final glance in the mirror, just to confirm who I had now become, and then I grabbed the bag of toys and was off in search of Lucy.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Yes, that was it. I was here for Lucy. She had asked and I had accepted. I couldn't really let her down now, could I? I knocked at the door and waited. This was the room alright, so any second now Lucy should be answering. I could already see her in my mind; a woman not too dissimilar to myself, dreaming what it might be like to broaden her horizons. Somebody just like—

"Oh, I'm sorry miss, I must have the wrong room," I exclaimed as the door opened in front of me.

This wasn't the Bablee lookalike that I had been expecting. Instead, I had been greeted by almost a total opposite. Whoever this was, and for sure it couldn't have been Lucy, had to be half my age or maybe less. She could even be young enough to be my daughter. I racked my mind, certain that this was the right room but convinced that I should be somewhere else.

"Bablee?" came a totally unforeseen greeting.

"Yes," I replied.

"I thought so," she continued. "I'm Lucy, do come inside."

I couldn't help but stare, careful not to have my mouth drop open with the unexpected surprise. Okay, so this Lucy was nothing like I was anticipating, but despite her youthful age she did have a certain appeal about her. It wasn't her stunningly good looks which caught my attention; to be honest, she was sort of average. Average height and a slight build wouldn't have had Lucy standing out in a crowd. In fact, if you considered her rather comfortable attire—she wore girl next door blue jeans and a cosy jumper—combined with a pair of small framed glasses, you would have her down as some sort of nerdy academic.

So, what did catch my attention? Maybe it was the slight swagger in her cute ass as she walked back into the cabin, accompanied by a matching sway in her shoulder length blonde locks. Was that it? Or was it more likely the palest of pale complexions, natural skin tones, blemish free and unspoilt by any obvious make up?

I closed the door behind me and had a glance around. Instead of choosing one of the top floor rooms, Lucy had invited me down to her own cabin—at least I guessed, by the lived-in feel, that it was her cabin. When she turned to face me, I could immediately sense why. Her face was a picture of nervous innocence, mixed with just a hint of shyness. She stood there, staring back at me.

"I'm sorry," I said, eager to break the silence. "I just was expecting . . . no, it is wrong of me to set expectations . . . I guess you're just a bit younger than I imagined, or maybe it is that I'm a bit older than you were most likely thinking of. I wouldn't be offended if that was the case."

There was a nervous pause with neither of us saying anything. Not a good start to my first engagement, I thought to myself, but something inside—maybe it was the motherly trait which had been my life for so long—didn't want to jump to conclusions with the young Lucy.

"Do you want me to leave?" I asked, the silence becoming painful.

"No . . . no . . . you're beautiful, Bablee . . . just what I would have asked for. It's just that I've never done anything like this. I guess I'm just a bit nervous."

I had to try hard not to blush, a warmth flooding my cheeks at her kind compliment.

"You're too kind Lucy, but really I wouldn't be offended if you changed your mind. I'm not just saying that. Do you want some time to think about it? We could sit down for a while. Take your time and tell me what it is you're after?"

I sat down on the edge of the bed and waited. Lucy didn't immediately follow.

"Come, sit next to me, Lucy."

This time Lucy did sit down, a good couple of feet away from where I was. I thought about sidling up, but maybe she just needed a little time. It was her day after all and I could go as fast or as slow as she wanted.

"It's okay to be nervous," I continued. "Is it your first time?"

"Yes . . . no . . . well, not my first time, but yes my first time with another woman. Is it yours?"

Inside, I laughed. Now was not the time to admit that she was only my second.

"No," I replied, "but I do remember my first, and most likely I felt just like you do. Now, why don't we start with you telling me a little about what you are looking for."

There was another pause before Lucy started to explain, and once she did it was like a tap had been turned on, emotions running free.

"It's silly," she started, "but I've always had a sort of . . . oh, I don't know how to put it . . . a sort of fantasy."

"A fantasy? About a woman?"

I glanced down at her hands, noticing the gold band and diamond ring on one finger.

"But you're married, aren't you Lucy?"

"Yes," she replied. "We've been married a good four years and I couldn't be happier. Keith was my childhood sweetheart, so it was no surprise that we tied the knot. He's great . . . everything I ever wanted . . . oh, and fantastic in bed. It's just that . . . just that . . . that I still think about what it would be like. Are you married, Bablee?"

I thought deeply before replying.

"Yes, I'm married."

"And do you love your husband?"

"Of course," I replied, smiling. "He's my heart and soul."

"So, why do you do this?"

I had to pause. She had asked the question I had been putting to myself. Could I simply say that I did it because it made me feel both excited and fulfilled?

"I guess, like you . . . I just needed to know what it would be like. He understands and is happy for me."

Okay, so the latter was a little fib but I was sure that he would have understood. I still loved Javed after all.

"And, was it everything you wanted?"

"Yes," I replied, smiling back at Lucy as I opened an arm to her. "My Javed was so kind and loving but, like you, I needed something else . . . at least I needed to know what it would be like. Come here and tell me a bit about your Keith."

This time Lucy did shuffle up, allowing me to wrap my arm around her shoulders.

"I love him to bits. He's my everything, but how would I describe him? I guess he is a very manly man."

"Very manly?"

"You know, big, butch, and very full-on. Don't get me wrong, he satisfies me plenty. Just tends to be a bit too much at times . . . rough, physical, passionate, enthusiastic are all words to describe my Keith. My fantasy is something just a little different . . . something only a woman would know."

"And how long have you had this fantasy?"

"I don't know . . . I couldn't tell you when it started . . . it's sort of always been there, a sort of niggle at the back of my mind. I've always wondered, what would it be like with another woman? Would it be different, more tender, more understanding, more satisfying?

"So why now? Why today?"

"It's my birthday, and—"

I interrupted her with a quick Happy Birthday and a gentle kiss on the forehead. It must have hit a chord as Lucy snuggled a little closer into my outstretched arm.

"Did you see Black Swan, Bablee?" came a bubbly excited question.

"Black Swan?"

"Yeah, it's one of my fav films . . . that bit where she goes down on the young woman . . . oh, how I've dreamt be underneath, to feel that touch, to cum so intensely. That's what I want Bablee. So, when he suggested I could have anything at all for my birthday, I chose . . . well, I chose to find out. Will you be able to show me, Bablee?"

For a few seconds my heart pounded. Only a matter of days ago, I had asked the same of Melodee and she had been a more than able teacher. I so remembered just how patient and gentle she had been, yet just how satisfying the outcome was. If I could offer half of this back to the young Lucy, I would be more than happy. Now though, well now was not the time for words. I smiled back at Lucy and pulled her slight body in closer still. I could feel her tremble in my arms. Of course, I could show her, but first I needed to get rid of those nerves.

"And does Keith know about your fantasy?"

This time it was Lucy who seemed a little embarrassed.

"Well, he knows I want to be with another woman on my birthday, but I couldn't really tell him I'd fantasised about it, could I?"

Her answer resonated. One day I would have to find the words to tell my Javed about everything I had been up to whilst I was away from him. I was sure he would understand, but I really didn't know how I was going to do it.

"And what about tonight. What will Keith think?"

"He'll be alright. I told him I was okay if he wanted to have his own fun. He knows that's all it is, just a little bit of fun . . . I still love Keith and that will never change."

"So, Lucy, do you still want to explore your fantasy?"

"Yes, Bablee . . . yes . . . but, I need to take it slowly."

With one hand I swept her blonde locks away to one side, revealing an expanse of pale tender skin across her ear and neck. It was the latter I concentrated on, blowing softly before gently caressing with my warm lips. A nibble on her soft ear lobe and then a whispered message.

"Close your eyes, Lucy. Tell me what fills your mind."

I pulled back, just enough to see if the young woman had indeed followed my suggestion. As if on command she sat there, eyes shut, waiting. I took my chance and in almost a single movement I slid off the bed and knelt in front of Lucy, quickly removing my top as I did so, safe in the knowledge that it would come as a surprise for young Lucy.

It was a good couple of minutes before Lucy started to recall her imagination.

"I see . . . a room . . . an empty bed . . . I am there, alone . . . no, wait, there is another with me . . . she is naked, holding her hand to me . . . she blows a kiss . . . I can feel her hand on mine, pulling me towards the bedroom . . . is it you Bablee? Can I see you in my mind, holding your hand out to guide me?"

How could I resist. The hand was obviously a gateway into her fantasy. One by one, I took her hands in mine and pulled them towards me, my lover inching towards the edge of the bed the further I pulled at her hands.

"That's it," I encouraged as I guided her towards my kneeling body. "You've taken her hand. Now, follow her lead, relax and enjoy your fantasy as she guides you. Carefully, kneel down on the floor with your lover."

With her eyes closed, I hoped she would relax a little as I brought the two of us together. It seemed to be working, as Lucy slid off the bed and knelt down on the floor a matter of inches from my now half-naked body. Still she had her eyes closed, almost as if living her fantasy through imagination alone. It was time to, hopefully, change that.

Slowly, being careful not to make any noise, I moved forward, first on my knees and then inching my face towards Lucy's until our lips barely touched. There was a little shiver from my lover as we first touched, maybe the feeling of surprise passing through her young body. I lingered for a moment, my lips held still against hers, before beginning the tiniest of kisses. Soft, flirtatious, little kisses teased her closed mouth, all the time waiting for a reaction. Soon Lucy was reciprocating, her own lips meeting mine in a still tender caress.

Through her hands, I could feel the initial shock of being kissed by another woman start to dissipate as she relaxed. Between kisses I could even hear her breathing soften. I shuffled in a little closer, my gentle caress now becoming firmer and more passionate. Our lips were joined closely, and I just hoped she could feel the same little tingle as I could. Dipping my tongue out, I ran the warm tip across her soft lips before withdrawing once more. I just kept on teasing my young lover until, finally, she opened her mouth slightly. Oh, the excitement as I momentarily dipped inside, my tongue catching the tip of hers.

That gentle caress had become something of a passionate smooch, our lips working overtime as we enjoyed the feeling of skin on skin. Our tongues would fleetingly meet then part once more. Before long, it was the young Lucy who was taking the lead, and I was following. It was time to move onwards and, with our minds concentrated on the latest caress, I took her hands in mine and eased them forward. Gently, as if cupping a piece of ripe fruit, I placed her hands atop my naked breasts. I could almost feel Lucy stiffen at the feel of my soft mounds under her tiny hands. As expected, her immediate response was to pull away, but I held her there, feeling the chill of her fingers across my mounds.

"Have you felt another's breasts before?" I whispered, breaking off from the kiss. "Go on, open your eyes. Do you like the way they feel in your hands?"

I took my own hands away and waited, hoping Lucy wouldn't follow suit. She didn't disappoint, instead softly massaging my ample flesh as she opened her eyes. I smiled at my young lover and watched as Lucy, for the first time, smiled back. It was a beautiful smile, so far away from that nervous expression when we first met. Here I was, kneeling in front of the young woman, letting her explore every curve of my full breasts. I could feel my nipples react under the touch of her fingers, the enjoyment of being fondled enough to bring hard nubs to attention.

Any reservations from the young woman seemed to be disappearing, so now it was time to get that bit closer still. Fingers around the bottom of her jumper, I eased the soft fabric upwards, pulling back only far enough to let the garment slide up between our bodies. Lucy didn't resist and before long I was pulling the jumper over her head and discarding it on the floor. A quick fumble at the clasp and then her lacy white bra followed suit, a brief glimpse of small pale tits being revealed before I pulled her in close. This time it was breasts squeezed up against breasts as we snuggled up closely. We cuddled, we kissed, I nibbled at her ear lobe then whispered once more.

"What about your jeans? Would you like me to take them off too?"

"Yes, please," came a now enthusiastic reply.

I stood up, offering my hand to my younger lover. She took hold and I pulled her up off the floor. There we stood, naked from the waist upwards.