The only thing to do, she decided, was get up and take a walk on deck. Perhaps a little exercise would relax her.
Karen crept out of the cabin wearing only a nearly sheer blue sleeveless nightie. She didn’t bother to dress, because she hardly expected anyone to be up at this hour—two in the morning. Therefore she was astonished, as she stepped out into the moonlight and the soft ocean breeze, to find Manuel stretched out in a deck chair, smoking a cigarette. He ginned at her, his teeth almost unnaturally white.
“Up so late, Mrs. Brandon?” he said with just a faint accent.
“What about you, Manuel?” she said, laughing nervously. “Don’t you ever rest?”
“I sleep right here unless it’s raining,” he said. “I have my own cabin, but it’s stuffy. I prefer the outdoors. And you, Mrs. Brandon, what brings you out so late?”
She was glad of the darkness which covered her blush. She couldn’t very well tell Manuel the truth, that her husband didn’t fuck her well enough, that she was left writhing with frustration every time they made love, and that often she couldn’t sleep for hours afterwards unless she masturbated. No, these were things she didn’t really want to confide to anyone.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said simply, walking to the rail and looking out over the moonlit ocean.
Manuel got up and came to stand near her—so that she could feel the healthy radiating heat of his body and catch the light good scent of man-sweat. She felt a helpless tingling in her poor starved pussy, a crazy longing just to throw herself at this inexcusably attractive man and let him take her. But of course she would do no such thing.
“I think I know why you can’t sleep,” Manuel said softly.
God, I hope not, Karen thought.
“Oh? Why?” she said casually.
Rather than answering directly, he looked at her for a long moment, his brown eyes flashing mischievously. Then he said in his soft purring voice, “Some women’s husbands don’t make them content. Some women need more than one man. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I could easily take care of such a woman.”
Karen felt such a dizzying mixture of embarrassment and lust that she almost lost her balance. She blushed all the way down to her toes. This guy had to be a mind-reader! And yet she couldn’t bring herself to admit he’d said the truth or that she wanted desperately to take him up on his offer.
She drew herself up haughtily and said, “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Manuel. I’m going back to my cabin now. Goodnight.”
As she turned away, he didn’t say goodnight. He just laughed softly, knowingly. It made her blush again, and she hurried below. My God, was her lust that obvious, her frustration so apparent, that even a simple steward could see it? She, felt so humiliated. She’d go back to bed, even if she tossed and turned all night. She wouldn’t go up on deck again and endure Manuel’s taunting and his knowing looks.
She was about halfway down the narrow corridor between cabins when she heard a woman’s low throaty laugh, and then a man’s raspy growl, followed by the violent creak of bedsprings. Then more laughter. Who would be playing games at this hour of the night? The man growled again, the springs creaked, as if some teasing chase were going on.
Karen never knew what got into her. She was just overcome with curiosity and somehow forgot her manners. She followed the noises to a certain door, then knelt down and looked through the keyhole. It was the master cabin, well-lit, and she had an excellent view of Harry Rosen and Luann Hart in bed. They were naked. Luann was crawling quickly around on the bed, and Harry was trying to catch her.
“You dirty old man,” Luann giggled, “didn’t you get enough this afternoon?”
“Once a day is never enough far me, baby,” said Harry, making a grab for her. “Quit being a prick teaser. Hold still.”
But Luann, only half his age, was in the mood for games. She shrieked with laughter and eluded his big hairy muscular arms as he tried to grab her. Peering through the keyhole, Karen found herself gawking and childishly curious. Harry was covered from the waist down, still under the sheets, but Luann was romping around without a stitch on. Karen had never really studied another woman’s body before, and she was fascinated.
She certainly understood how Harry could have the hots for Luann twice in one day. The red haired girl was magnificently built. She had the body of a dancer, with long shapely legs and tiny firm waist and slim yet rounded hips. Her adorable little butt was firm, too, yet sweetly globular. But Luann’s most outstanding feature had to be her breasts, so exceptionally large and heavy for such a slender girl.
Luann’s long, melon-shaped tits touched the bed when she was on her hands and knees. Her nipples were quite large, too, and cone-shaped, a delicate rosy-pink. It was quite a spectacle when Luann started romping around on the bed and those huge knockers started bouncing and flopping. Harry evidently thought so, too, because he stared at them hungrily whenever she moved.
“Come here, baby,” he said hoarsely. “Come on, now, like a good girl…”
“But I’m not a good girl,” Luann giggled. “I haven’t been a good girl for years. It’s a drag being good.”
Harry chuckled, but he didn’t relax his efforts to catch her. Once he grabbed a slim ankle and held it while Luann laughed and tried to pull away—and Karen had a spectacular view of her crotch. She was a real redhead, all right. Her little triangular bush was fiery orange and extended on between her legs to encircle healthy pink moist flesh. It was the first time Karen had seen another woman’s slit. She thought it was lovely, all glowingand glistening and rosy. The shadowed mouth of Luann’s cunt looked quite small, and her scarlet clit-button was no bigger than a pea.
With a sudden burst of strength Luann managed to jerk her ankle out of Harry’s grasp, and she was off and crawling again, eluding him. He gave a bearish growl, not so much impatient as lusty, and finally emerged from the covers to chase her. Again Karen found herself staring.
She’d never seen any other cock in her life but Phil’s.
Now she gawked open-mouthed at Harry Rosen’s cock, which was stiffly erect and wagging lewdly before him as he crawled around trying to catch Luann. Although his prick was about the same length as Phil’s, it was thicker, six inches of fat white meat with faint blue veins.
The head of his dick was like a big swollen purple knob, and it was leaking big bright bubbles of juice from its dark slit of a mouth. Karen felt saliva rushing to her mouth when she saw that dribbling juice. It reminded her of that afternoon when she’d all too briefly licked her husband’s cock and sucked on it. It had been so much fun. Too bad Phil was such a prude!
But she couldn’t dwell long on thoughts of Phil when she had a brand new cock to study. She found herself getting powerfully turned on by the sight of Harry Rosen’s stubby pale dick as it weaved and wagged obscenely before him. It sprang from a silver bush of tight curls. His balls were bigger than Phil’s, too, and they were swollen up taut and fat, a delicious rosy color. Karen felt hot juice starting to leak from her cunt as she imagined being in Luann’s place.
“Goddammit, baby, enough already,” Harry panted. “I’m not a young guy any more. Hold still and put out, will ya?”
Luann reluctantly ended the chase by allowing Harry to ease her down on the bed. “Let’s play a little first, okay, lover?” she said huskily. “You know all the things I like.”
“Sure, honey,” said Harry, glad for a chance to get his breath back.