Four Nights at Sea

by Demi Alex

  It wouldn’t have mattered if Ford had been reciting the Declaration of Independence, she just liked the manner in which he leaned into her and shared. He worked on keeping her focused. Every nerve ending in her body rejoiced when his breath swept across her ear. “Thanks.”

  “It is with great honor that I present to this most gorgeous group Mistress Gwyn,” Bodhi said, strolling to the edge of the stage to offer his hand to the mistress of ceremonies. He escorted her to the microphone, and once he’d adjusted the stand to the proper height, he bowed and backed away.

  “Thank you, Bodhi. As always, it’s a pleasure to have you at my side.” The woman turned and indicated her assistant, waiting for the group to quiet before positioning her ruby-red lips near the microphone again. “Welcome, my friends.” More applause. “We will make this event the most pleasurable one yet. That is a promise, and I always keep my promises.” Whistles joined the exuberant cheering. “However, before we officially embark on our adventures, I must insist on reviewing a few housekeeping rules and guidelines to make this good for everyone.” Mistress Gwyn’s tone changed from welcoming cheerleader to strict disciplinarian.

  “On that note, thank you. You please me very much,” Ford whispered.

  Puzzled, Charlie glanced at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “You follow directions well.” He cupped her bottom and smoothed his thumb over the place where her panty line would have been below her waist. “Not only are you beautiful, smart, and talented, you’re wonderfully obedient and willing.”

  Obedient? No one had ever called her obedient. She was the notorious black sheep of the family. Always bucking convention. She’d been branded as stubborn and headstrong. Never obedient.

  “Soon enough, you’ll discover how pleasing others gives you more control than any strong-armed insistence does.” His lips brushed over the sensitive skin behind her ear, sending shivers through her body. “You have my undivided attention, chère.”

  As Charlie tried to process his words, the servers handed out postcards. They had small print on both sides: one with rules, the other with abbreviations.

  “Let’s start with a review of guidelines,” Gwyn said. “Please flip the cards to the white side with blue lettering. We have very few rules, but they are for your protection. There is zero tolerance for anyone who refuses to abide by them, so let’s educate everyone on these policies. Feel free to pick up extra postcards and share with anyone who is not here. They are also listed in the daily bulletin the cruise company provided in your cabin.”

  The crowd stilled and the noise level dropped to silent.

  “First, we only address each other with first names while on board. If you wish, you may choose to exchange personal details once the cruise is over. However, you may not ask someone to share his or her details if they are not offered.”

  Charlie felt like Gwyn was speaking directly to her. She glanced at her friends and shrugged. She’d broken that rule before she’d even been aware of it. The captain had been correct when he suggested she work under cover.

  “No worries,” Quinn said, leaning down in discretion. “We want to exchange information and keep in touch after this is over. We’re good.”

  Even without hearing what Quinn had said, Luis nodded stoically. Ford simply caressed one hip and bumped the other gently. “All good,” he said. “We boarded knowing each other. Just like an established couple. We get to explore more now.”

  “Consent is first and foremost the greatest necessity in all of our activities,” Gwyn continued, holding two long fingers in the air. “If anyone is found insisting on non-consensual acts, that person will be placed in isolation and removed from the general population. Once we make port, he or she will be escorted off the ship, and depending on the situation will either be handed to the police or will need to make arrangements to return to Miami on his or her own. Consensual play only, folks!”

  “Though consent may include rough, sometimes painful, play,” Luis warned. “Be careful where you wander, niña.”

  “That’s my concern,” Ford quickly announced. “She’ll be with me in every public area. I’ve got her.”

  “I’m sure you do. It’s good to know,” Luis countered. “Just don’t be mulish, Charlie. Heed Ford’s directives.”

  Did they think she couldn’t handle herself? That she needed a big, bad man to make it through the events?

  “Rule number three,” Gwyn announced. “No blood play or acts that may require medical attention, consensual or not.”

  Aw, shit. Shit. Triple shit. Fear—actually dread—crept up her spine. Charlie inched closer to Ford. He wrapped a protective arm around her body and brought her against his tall frame.

  “Due to our location and the limitations of onboard medical facilities, we cannot condone participants enjoying such play. It is too risky and your safety is too important.” Gwyn held up four fingers.

  “Rule four is common sense: condoms.” She paused and looked around the room. “Condoms must be used for every act in public places. Staff is continuously on hand all over the ship. All you need to do is indicate the need for a prophylactic and protection will be instantly furnished.”

  “Any act?” a man called from the floor.

  “Anal or vaginal,” Gwyn explained. “Ladies, we also offer female condoms, however they are a bit trickier when you’re in a passionate hurry to fuck. Familiarize yourself with the forms of protection before you need them.”

  Hurry to fuck? The elegant woman had said fuck. She’d clearly validated the appropriateness of fucking, and no one seemed appalled by the terminology. Rather, more couples had come together and were exchanging sensual caresses and loving looks.

  “And while public displays of affection are always allowed,” Gwyn said, extending a graceful arm toward the couples, “we do ask that you respect personal preferences of the participants in events intended for beginners. Our events are a success because of the courtesy and respect you all extend to each other. Respect is to be given and expected. At all times.”

  A man standing approximately ten feet to Charlie’s right, dropped to his knees and raised his hand for Gwyn’s attention. When she acknowledged him, he hooked his fingers into a second man’s waistband, making it obvious that he wished to expose his partner to everyone’s view. “May I show my desire for my man, Mistress?”

  Mistress Gwyn looked around the room. “This is a B, beginner’s, event. All must be comfortable. Are there any objections from our guests for a physical display?”

  “No.”

  “Go for it.”

  “Show us what you got, dude.”

  “You may proceed,” Mistress Gwyn said with a smile.

  The man lowered his partner’s shorts. He lovingly stroked his hand over a long and thin erection, then asked, rather loudly, for the other man to fuck his mouth.

  Groaning in appreciation, the man receiving the blow job opened his eyes and met the mistress’s gaze. “I was planning to propose this weekend,” he said, holding the other man’s head steady and pumping into his mouth. “Andrew beat me to it.”

  Andrew released the other man’s thigh and flashed a gold wedding band, receiving a loud round of applause from the onlookers. He continued to suck, rolling his husband’s balls in his hand like a set of dice.

  “We were married on Fort Lauderdale Beach this morning,” the receiving newlywed continued, closing his eyes and sinking deeper into Andrew’s mouth. “Sharing the good news with all our new friends,” he said, grunting the last two words and impaling Andrew’s mouth as he buried himself deep and stilled his thrusts.

  Andrew moaned in pleasure and slowly released his husband. Acknowledging the group’s congratulations, he beamed with happiness and smiled. “Thank you, everyone. We’ll be consummating this marriage all weekend long. Mostly in private.”

  Andrew’s husband helped him up from his knees and claimed his mouth in a passionate kiss.

  “Congratulations to our honeymooner
s. Many years of love, happiness, and passion,” Gwyn said, allowing time for the newlyweds to enjoy their spotlight.

  When the crowd had settled and Andrew was wrapped in his husband’s embrace, Mistress Gwyn tapped the microphone. “That is how it’s done, my friends. We share our joys, encourage our sexual needs, and always with the utmost respect to each other. Please remember that there is no video or photography allowed. We only share with each other. Thank you for requesting permission, Andrew.” He nodded. “And thank you everyone for celebrating our newlyweds.”

  “Trumpets” played and the lounge filled with Jason Derulo’s proclamation. Charlie felt the rhythm deep inside her as the song suggested, and her body hummed. Some sang along, while others raised their glasses in a toast.

  “That’s number nineteen,” Charlie whispered to Ford. “So far, I have answers to seven of my twenty-six questions.”

  “I don’t get it.” Two lines marked the center of his brow.

  “I’ll explain later. When we’re alone,” Charlie said, slipping out of his embrace. “I’m going to congratulate them personally. Be right back.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ford watched as Charlie offered her hand to the couple, but instead was pulled into a group hug. He smiled to himself like a crazy man, shaking his head at the fog of oblivion that hovered around her awareness. She had no idea of her effect on others.

  Comfortable, sweet, and open with strangers, yet a bit mysterious and protective of something he hadn’t managed to figure out, Charlie attracted people into her sphere. He couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting to hold her close. He knew he did. Something about the woman warmed his chest in an unfamiliar sensation, and he couldn’t stop wanting more of what she made him feel.

  Concentrating to block out the background noise, he could faintly hear their conversation. He smiled at her heartfelt congratulations. Wasn’t surprised with their jubilant responses. And then she was making arrangements to meet with them and discuss their beach wedding. Perhaps in the late morning on Friday, after they’d had some time to celebrate privately. There’s the competent reporter, he thought, an inexplicable sense of pride filling him. As if he had anything to do with her professional success. He shook his head and watched her make her way between the group and back to his side.

  Extending his arm, he welcomed her. “Seems like you make a nice impression on everyone you meet, chère. They don’t mind the interview?”

  “I’m undercover,” she reminded, lifting a pretty brow in emphasis. “It’s not an interview. I’m just curious. We’re going to chat about the romance of beach weddings.”

  He nodded and fit her against his chest, resting his chin atop her head. “Of course you are. It’s all about the romance.”

  “The most romantic place to find love,” Charlie elaborated. “Looks like Andrew and John have done just that.”

  The music faded and the mistress stepped up to the microphone.

  “Let’s take care of the remainder of our housekeeping items so we can get on with the main events,” Mistress Gwyn announced. “Please flip your cards over to the blue side with the white lettering. Here you will find a quick reference guide to the level of explicit sexual content intended for each event. There are six categories.”

  Ford looked down at the card Charlie studied. Her dainty finger skimmed over the categories, not hesitating on any of them.

  “B is for beginners,” Gwyn announced. “We have a large number of virgins—and no, my dears, I’m not speaking about people who have never had sex. Perhaps taking your time at one of the B events would be a nice introduction to our special itinerary. As you saw earlier, even if various displays are not planned, with consent things may develop and evolve above the intended levels of sexual intensity. Please communicate your preferences or limits to the group leaders should you feel uncomfortable. We promise to honor and respect your wishes.”

  More than a few breathed in relief.

  “V is for vanilla. In V activities there will be no escalation of the preset expectations. These workshops and activities will help enhance a monogamous couple’s private bedroom activities with instruction and discussions, rather than demonstrations.”

  Yet another round of relief sounded from the group. Ford was surprised at the number of first timers. In past years, kink ruled the decks and it was difficult to navigate through the sexual activities without being swayed to join in and participate. Maybe his staff, especially the ones assigned to the chaste and fun discussions, had a chance of making it through the sailing intact. He’d speak with Ramos about varying their assignments to assure they all had a break from the in-your-face sexual stimulation and constant state of arousal most events guaranteed.

  An oldie but goodie sounded on the speakers and Usher’s voice floated through the air. The mistress moved away from the microphone as couples filled the dance floor, following the song’s advice of “Nice and Slow.”

  Charlie’s hips rolled and his groin rejoiced in the luxury of each brush. He curled his fingers around those wonderful curves, careful to keep her skirt smoothed and her upper thighs covered. She dropped her head back on his shoulder. Ford inhaled the coconut scent, curved his body over her petite frame, and rested his cheek against her hair. “I can get used to this, chère.”

  She didn’t say anything, but her hand moved under his sleeve, and her fingers closed around his bicep in acceptance. He would have hooted in victory if it wouldn’t make him look like a fool, so instead he brushed his lips over her hair and watched as Quinn urged Luis onto the floor. Ford held her in his arms and watched the others dance, enjoying the sense of togetherness with a peculiar sense of calm.

  The volume was lowered and Gwyn spoke above the soft music.

  “VbC stands for vanilla but curious,” Gwyn said, glancing at the dancers and nodding at a few in particular. “These events are structured to expose you to possibilities, while keeping you well within established parameters for your comfort. I encourage newcomers to venture into at least one of these programs. You never know what you may learn about unexplored desires.”

  At the rhythmic intrusion of three staff entertainers strutting onto the dance floor, a new song mixed through the audio system, bodies parted then joined in the finger snapping. Two women in black lace lingerie and one man in black leather pants took center stage, dancing suggestively to the sultry jazz of Peggy Lee’s “Fever.” Their lithe bodies gyrated with sexual invitation until the men in the audience tugged on their collars and the women fanned themselves.

  The man collapsed over both women, cocooning them in an embrace, and the music ended.

  “Ménage?” Charlie asked.

  “Perhaps,” Ford answered. “Or maybe just plain physical indulgence.”

  “MC stands for more than curious,” Mistress Gwyn said. “At this level of participation there will not be any preset boundaries. You will need to establish your own. Expect much more physical interaction and participation.”

  Catcalls and whistling from the audience encouraged their leader to continue.

  “K is for kink. Complete exploration and exhibition. You need to be committed to these activities before entering the venues. If you lack experience, familiarize yourself with the terminology and guidelines in one of the MC sessions first. Just as we pride ourselves on offering virgins and newbies a safe space to learn, we also pride ourselves on offering a space for our kinksters to gain the utmost satisfaction.”

  Charlie squeezed his hand and turned. Her blue eyes had gone as dark as the deep waters of the sea beneath a full moon, but no worry marked her pretty face. “That makes sense. After all, it is a kink cruise. Respect goes both ways.”

  “That it does.” With a finger on her chin, he tipped her face closer and lowered his mouth to claim a slow and tender kiss. Her lips parted and he savored the delicious flavor of Charlie as her soft moan escaped their joined lips. He stroked down her throat, over her shoulder, settling his palm over her quick beating of her heart. N
ot for a moment did he break the passionate kiss nor their locked gazes, simultaneously answering her request for relief from her craving and testing if she’d raise her defenses between them. She didn’t.

  She accepted his attention, welcomed his touch, and didn’t shy away from the public display.

  “I’d like for us to attend Always Kiss Me Good-Night,” he said, more than satisfied with her acceptance.

  “Okay,” Charlie said, her warm breath feathering over his lips.

  “Perfect,” Ford replied. “There’s one more category.”

  “M is for masters,” the mistress said as if on cue. “Not only Masters or Sirs and submissives, but individuals who have mastered the lifestyle in any way. These activities are recommended only to experienced members of our group. The play will be intense. The scenes are determined by the participants and not by the staff. Please respect this space. It is a passionate and fortifying time for many of our guests.”

  At that point, the evening’s schedule of events was displayed on a screen behind her. Each activity was clearly marked with a suggested level.

  “This brings us back to the rules of respect and consent. These are prerequisites—across the board—in any category,” the mistress insisted. “Enjoy. Find pleasure. Find love. Our staff is available to help you achieve any of these goals throughout the duration of the cruise.”

  “Thank you, Mistress.” Bodhi returned and bowed at the waist. He reached for her hand and brought his lips to her knuckles.

  The audience showed its gratitude and understanding with applause.

  Mistress Gwyn remained stoic, yet her eyes shined with compassion. “Thank you, my friends. Thank you for entrusting Lovers Sail with your needs. And with a kiss, I declare the official start of the Tenth Annual Lovers Sail Singles and Kink Cruise. Passion sur la mer.”

  Gwyn touched an elegant hand to her lips and threw the group a kiss.

  “Passion on the sea,” Ford translated, but quickly realized there was no need as Charlie shrugged her agreement. His Charlie had understood. “You speak French?”