My body is starting to feel like an old man at 65, but my mind still thinks I’m 35. I was married for over 20 years before I was divorced at age 50, luckily without children. While in college, until I was married, I was a practicing nudist every weekend that I could afford at the Bar S Ranch, pronounced bare-ass ranch. I completed my MBA, joined a big firm, and started making money, got married, had a nice house in the burbs, and two nice cars. I thought I had made it until I found out the hard way that my wife was in love with another man. With the photos the PI took for me, I didn’t get burned in the divorce. I sold out everything and moved.

Since my freedom day, I moved to a nice townhouse in the city and started my one-man firm. Life is too short to be a slave to a job seven days a week, so I joined a gym to tone up, bought a camper, and moved it to a new family nudist camp in the mountains where I could go almost every weekend and be with like-minded friends. I saw a notice on the bulletin board one day for a three-week cruise through the Caribbean on an adults-only, singles, Magic Cruise. There was not an abundance of information on the flyer, but since it was posted in a nudist camp and said adults only, I assumed it was for people like me, so I called the number to make a reservation. The cruise lines sent me a packet of information, including a contract for the trip, which I had never had to sign for any other cruise I had taken. The contract was a little vague on details and in the fine print, it said something about being younger than our actual age. At the end by my signature was a statement, “I vow to keep the content of this cruise a secret.” I wondered about that rule, but I signed the contract anyway and mailed it in with my check for the cruise. My anticipation began to build.

Two weeks later, an envelope arrived with my ticket and another flyer showing pictures from previous trips. On deck were people from 20 to 40, all nude. Photos of the lounge showed the same people, but this time they were all scantily dressed, dancing, drinking, and having fun. I was really looking forward to this trip and hoped there would be people my age on board.

The big day finally came when I flew to Miami. I don’t really know what happened, but as I walked up the gangway and stepped aboard, I felt much younger, healthier, and more alert. The purser said, “Welcome aboard, Mr. Smith,” and to the lady behind me, he said, “Welcome aboard, Miss Smith.” I stepped away and turned to greet the lady behind me, when I heard the purser say to the next man, “Welcome aboard, Mr. Smith.” I was a little slow on the uptake. On this cruise, everyone was a Smith. It was not uncommon to protect our identities; nudists went by false names while in camp. I was given my cabin key and made my way up a deck to see my accommodations. When I walked into the room, I saw a nice king-sized bed and a wall of glass opening onto a balcony overlooking the port. I walked into the luxury bathroom and almost passed out. The person who looked back at me in the mirror was a younger me. I was dressed the same, but the face was mine, 30 years younger. I was back to my full six feet height. I had shrunk to 5’10” since my two back surgeries. I took off my shirt. Instead of slightly sagging man boobs, my chest muscles were strong and toned, and my stomach had a six-pack. I couldn’t resist an instant. If I had changed this much, perhaps I had been changed all over, so I dropped my pants. My cock hung nicely and was quite thick. I stroked it a few times, and it stood up straighter than it had in years to a full seven inches. I just stood in the bathroom and looked at the image I had not seen in 30 years and didn’t think I would ever see again.

I put back on my clothes and went back out to the main deck. All the other passengers seemed to be just as confused as I was. Crewmen kept saying, “As soon as we are past the 12-mile limit, the captain will address everyone. The passengers all meandered around the deck, watching the tugboats push us away from the dock and out into the channel, where the ship’s engines took over, and we soon passed the sea buoy and entered the open Atlantic. When we could only see the tallest of buildings on shore, the PA system clicked and the captain’s voice boomed throughout the ship. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. You may have noticed a few changes when you stepped aboard today. This is not your normal Caribbean cruise, and this is not your normal ship. This is a magic ship and a magic cruise. The ship knows how old you are on the inside, and makes the outside look the same. You signed a contract before you received your tickets. That contract says you may never tell anyone about this ship. If you break your contract, you will instantly revert back to your actual age. As long as you keep our secret, you will start aging from the apparent age you are now. That is the secret of the Magic Ship. I hope you enjoy yourself. If you need anything while aboard, please let a member of the crew know. That is all for now.” I heard another click as the PA was powered down, but that was the only sound. Everybody was standing, looking at the speaker in stunned silence. Suddenly, the whole ship started celebrating. In short order, everybody returned to their rooms, disrobed, returned to the deck to enjoy the sun on their nude bodies, and started making new friends.

So, I was no longer 65, but 35, when I thought I was at my prime. I walked around the deck meeting ladies. Most of them appeared to be between 20 and 30, but there were quite a few very good-looking ladies who appeared to be my age. All afternoon, I walked around from the big pool in the stern to the bow covered with naked people enjoying the sun and the breeze. The view was great, and the ocean wasn’t bad either. I had to giggle a little at the lack of hair on most of the ladies. It was easy to tell who kept themselves shaven, and which ones were freshly shaved. The new ones were yet to be tanned and looked like they were wearing a white bathing suit. Those white tushies needed plenty of sunscreen, or they would be wearing red bathing suits in this bright summer sun. It also opened up opportunities to put sunscreen on some pretty little asses.

I enjoyed being able to please a woman orally without getting little hairs in my teeth, and figured ladies deserved the same courtesy, so I kept myself clean-shaven. I had always heard the old adage: “If the bushes are cut down, it makes the trees look bigger.” I started shaving when I was on my college swim team back in the ‘70s. This was the era just after Woodstock and the free love of the 60s, and the rock opera Hair, so to be clean-shaven was novel. Once word got around the girl’s dorms that I had no hair around my cock or balls, I was occasionally stopped in the halls by a teenage stranger and drug into a broom closet to verify their information and get a blow job in exchange. Being hairless back then made me unique and increased my sex life 100%. One time, I was on a date with a girl. I took her to dinner and a movie. It was in the dark, during some very heavy petting when she ran her hand into my pants to discover no hair. It turned into a very hot and wet date. We made arrangements to go on a ski date the next weekend to the mountains. When I stopped by her dorm to pick her up in my 1963 VW Bug, both she and her roommate climbed into my car. She had shared her discovery with her roommate, and they both had decided to share me for the weekend. We drove to the mountains to ski, but we didn’t leave our room or make the slopes for two days. The first time I went back to the nudist camp after shaving, I was almost dragged out of the hot tub by two 40-year-old ladies into a travel trailer and raped, if raping the willing was possible. I was stared at and pointed out by the other men, but my nights were kept very busy by their wives and daughters. Now on the ship, I find I am still among the minority of men, but I’m not alone in the clean look.

I would have to buy some new clothes when we got to the islands. Everything I had to wear looked like a grandfather on vacation, so I had to go to the ship’s store to find something suitable to wear for dinner. I chose a pair of white trousers and a bright yellow Cuban shirt that showed off my physique and tan.

I was seated beside a beautiful lady of my apparent age, and I called her Miss Smith. She chuckled and introduced herself and said her friends call her Vickie, and I introduced myself as Jeff. She had a remarkable little smile and had almost cat-like lips. Very kissable. After we had talked through the appetizer and the soup, I realized something I hadn’t noticed before. She had a sweet Southern accent, which sounded just like mine. The shape of her eyes and the cat-like lips reminded me of someone, but I wasn’t sure who.

“By chance, do you live in North Carolina?” I asked.

“No, I live in New York,” she said. I looked at her in total disbelief, like I knew she was lying to me. Her smile broadened and she added, “But I was born in North Carolina,” and laughed. She didn’t volunteer where in North Carolina, and I didn’t ask. After dinner, we changed and met again in the lounge for drinks. I wore a Hawaiian shirt and sandals, and she had on a see-through naughty nightie. Over drinks, she admitted that she had only recently tried nudism for the first time and was still trying to get comfortable in the skin-only world. Her older lady friend and next-door neighbor to her condo in New York had actually introduced her to the non-textile world and had bought her the ticket for the Magic Cruise as a gift. I had noticed earlier in the day that her backside and firm C-cup breasts were still a bit white. I admitted to her that I was a practicing nudist in my youth, and since my divorce 15 years earlier, I had returned to the naturalist lifestyle. I explained, for some reason, I felt that people were more real and genuine without the socially protective layer of clothing.

After drinks, we strolled the deck, looking at the ocean around us and the stars above, and got to know each other, without sharing our identity. By the end of the evening, we were walking hand in hand, before she decided to turn in for the night. I walked her to her cabin door, kissed her on the cheek, and said goodnight, before making my way back on deck.

I was leaning against the rail, in deep thought, when a younger lady slid up beside me. I could tell she had come from the bar and had been drinking, but she wasn’t drunk. We had a rather short conversation when she reached between me and the railing and wrapped her hand around my cock and said, “My cabin or yours?” We went to hers.

This was not lovemaking. It was pure sex. There was no foreplay, no kissing or hugging. She didn’t want her nipples or clit sucked or her belly button licked. She wanted to be fucked. She fell backward on the bed, grabbed her knees, lifted her legs, and spread her knees, waiting on me to drive my cock into her. She glistened with her clear juices already dripping from her bald pussy, as I got on my hands and knees above her and slid all the way into her in one push. She appeared to be about 25 with black hair. Her boobs were small and she had a very athletic build. I had no idea what had gotten her motor going, but as soon as I hit bottom, she went ballistic, and continued to cum every minute or so, for the next 15 minutes. I went slowly. I went fast. I drove into her hard and withdrew easily. I moved my cock around hitting all the right spots in her pussy. In short, I fucked her into the mattress, as she screamed, moaned, grunted, shook, and gasped. By the time I was getting close, we were both sweating profusely. I told her I was close and she screamed, “Cum in me!” With one more mighty thrust, I emptied my balls into her depths. After a day filled with beautiful women, surrounded by pretty pussies and bouncing boobs, I had a lot of cum built up and I gave her all of it.

I fell beside her, lying lifeless, trying to get my breath back and let my heart slow down. If I had still been in my 65-year-old body, I would have had a heart attack. She finally got up to go to the bathroom and returned with a wet washcloth. First, she washed my face, my chest, and my stomach before washing my cock and balls clean of our fluids. Then she used the same washcloth to wipe down her pussy and catch the glob that had escaped her pussy and was running down her leg. She rinsed out the cloth and said, over her shoulder, “Thank you, Mr. Smith. That was just what I needed.” I was being dismissed. She had wanted to get fucked. She got fucked. She was done with my cock. I thanked her for the sex and headed back to the main deck, feeling very cheapened.

This was not the first time I had taken part in pure sex in my life, and I had gotten the release I desperately needed after a day around sexy ladies, but still, I wanted more. I had been careful since my divorce to stay away from emotional attachments. I occasionally picked up a lady at a local watering hole for a one-night-stand and usually hooked up with one or more of the ladies at the nudist camp on a weekend for sex, but it wasn’t to just fuck, get my rocks off and leave, as it had been with this unknown woman. I began to realize that I was ready for more. The ghost of my ex-wife had finally been exorcised. I was finally ready for the emotional closeness of a relationship, and Vickie’s pretty cat-lipped smile came to mind. Could she be the one? Time would tell.

I have always been an early riser, so as soon as the sunrise came blasting through the windows of my stateroom, I got up, bathed, and dressed modestly. I called the ship’s operator and asked for Vickie Smith’s stateroom, and gave her the number. When she answered, it was obvious to me that I was not waking her. She sounded happy to hear my voice. “Good morning, beautiful. Do you eat breakfast?” I received an enthusiastic yes. “I’ll meet you on deck just outside the restaurant in ten,” I said, “See you then,” and hung up. I splashed on a little light cologne and headed out. We chatted as we ate from the breakfast buffet, covered in sweet bread conceptions, and enjoyed each other. At one point, Miss wham-bam-thank-you-sir, reached past me to get a bun and didn’t even recognize me when we made eye contact. What a punch to my male ego, but the twinkle in Vickie’s eyes drove that thought away. We went on deck, where I took off my shirt and pants, folded them, and placed them on a deck chair. Vickie followed my example, and I remembered that she was new to the nudist world. We sat side by side and chatted.

I liked this lady. I discovered that she was intelligent, had a great use of the English language, and spoke some French as well. Most important to me was that she had an imagination and an excitement about the future. I was really liking this woman. We made arrangements to go into town together that afternoon when the ship made port on our first island, and I went back to my stateroom to get ready. In the little shower, I started thinking of Vickie and how she looked. Her face wasn’t that of a real beauty, like a supermodel, but very cute and simple, like the girl next door. She was about 5’2”, and weighed about 115 or 120 with an athletic build. She had nicely formed B or C-cup breasts with small dark areolas about the size of a dollar coin, with suckable nipples, like my little finger. Her stomach was smooth and led to her freshly bald mound. Her pussy was just a slit, with the clit hood just peeping out. She had nice legs, thin ankles, and small feet with polished toenails. In short, she was very cute and desirable.

As I was showering and thinking about Vickie, my cock reached the iron bar condition. It hadn’t been this hard in years. When I was young and had just discovered that my little dick was used for more than peeing, I would jerk off every morning in the shower and again in bed at night before I went to sleep. By the time I was 17 or 18, I had added at least two more times during the day, with the occasional jerk-off marathon session that would leave my cock raw from overuse. At age 65, I was down to maybe once a week or so, and my cock never was that hard or big. Now I was back. My cock was about seven inches long, with a wide helmet end and a shaft slightly too big for me to reach all the way around. I reached for the hair conditioner which I had learned as a child, makes the best lubricant in the shower, and started stroking my cock, thinking about Vickie. I pictured her riding on top of me, with her smallish tits brushing across my face. I would capture a nipple in my mouth and suck on it until she pulled it away for me to reach for the other one. It didn’t take me long, and I painted the wall of the shower with my cum, at least six good shots before the rest dribbled down my hand and onto my balls. My vision blurred. I had to hang on to the walls of the little shower to regain my balance. I rinsed off, dried off, got dressed, and went back on deck to see Vickie at the gangway.

She was dressed in a beautiful island-type sundress, covered in colorful flowers. Around her neck was an exquisite necklace with a large single pearl. She had three rings on her hands, and looking down at her sandals, I saw she had a toe ring on her big toe. The light pink toenail polish matched her lipstick, and she had blue eye shadow that matched the pale blue in her dress. She was a doll-baby.

All afternoon, we walked around town, looking at all the little shops and street vendors. We listened to the steel drum bands and watched the colorfully dressed dancers, and we talked. Vickie’s intelligence really impressed me, but she hadn’t asked me about my past, and I didn’t ask her about hers, we just enjoyed being together. Instead of going back to the ship for dinner, I invited her to eat with me at a lovely seaside place. The smell coming from the kitchen told me the food would be a little spicy and delicious. After dinner and dessert, we had drinks and enjoyed watching the sun go down over the ocean. On the way back to the ship, we saw the city coming alive with partygoers. Music was everywhere and the streets were filled with laughter. Once back aboard, we had to remain clothed until we were at sea, so we sat on deck chairs and continued to talk, share, and enjoy ourselves.

Finally, my curiosity got the better of me, so I asked her, “So, Vickie, what do you do for a living?”

“Well, I write books, and teach a little,” she said.

I was very interested, so I enquired more, “What kind of books, and what grade do you teach?”

She hesitated for a moment and then filled in the gaps. “I write novels, mostly historical. I’ve written two books of poems, and a textbook on creative writing. I’ve been a professor at NYU for 25 years and just retired last year. How about you, Mister Jeff Smith,” she asked with a chuckle.

I instantly felt bad, because I assumed she was a common school teacher, only to find out she was a published author and a professor, probably with a Ph.D. I told her about myself, “Well, Miss Vickie Smith, I have my MBA, and I’m a financial consultant, concentrating on international business.”

“That sounds very interesting. Do you get to travel internationally often?” she asked, sounding very interested.

“Not as much as I used to. Now with the internet, I can do almost everything I need to do from my office or my home. I’m thinking about retiring soon.” I said.

She asked, “Family?”

I shook my head no, “You?”

“No, it’s just me and my two cats,” she said with a smile. She pulled out her cell phone to show me a photo of her two cats sitting in a window, looking out the window over the Manhattan skyline.

It was late, and we were both tired, so we decided to turn in for the night. I walked her to her cabin, holding her hand. I leaned in to kiss her cheek again, and she turned her head at the last second and our lips connected. It was not passionate, but it had real promise. Before she went through the door, I asked, “Breakfast?” She nodded yes and disappeared into her cabin.

On my way to the cabin, I passed two couples making love side by side on the deck chairs. They were on the seaward side of the ship, away from prying eyes from the island. The two women were kissing each other hard, while they played with each other’s breasts, and the two men pounded their pussies hard and fast. I figured, if they didn’t want anyone to watch, they would have gone into a cabin, so I stood there and watched and both ladies orgasmed, setting off their lovers to fill their pussies, before I went on to my cabin.

As soon as I got inside, I stripped down and went back through the shower to wash the sweat off of my body. I was tempted to jerk off in the shower again, but decided to wait for bed. Once on the clean, pressed cool sheets, I laid on my back and jerked off. At first, I replayed the scene on deck watching the two ladies cum, but quickly I pictured Vickie laying on her bed in the same position I was now in, rubbing her bald pussy and arching her back, and calling my name as she came. That was the image that was in my mind when I blew cum several feet into the air above me.

I woke up with the ship gently rocking, with the ship at sea. We had left the island during the night and would not arrive at the next island until the next afternoon, so today and tonight, we would be at sea. I called Vickie. She must have been awake and waiting for my call. I just slipped into shorts and a pullover shirt and met her. She was radiant and had a smile like someone who had just had an orgasm. I again pictured her masturbating on her bed and cumming just before I called her, and had to sit down quickly to hide my erection already forming in my shorts. Sitting side by side, I saw her glance at my lap and smile, but she didn’t say anything. I found that she was a bit shy, and acted innocent or naive in some of her comments, which was intriguing and not normal for a nudist.

After breakfast, we again went on deck, removed our clothing, and sat on two deck chairs, side by side. She reached into her bag for sunscreen and asked me to apply it to her back. She rolled over, and I started to get excited. I was going to play with that quite little tush. I started at her shoulders, and worked down her back and sides, even rubbing a little on her side boobs in the process. I got to the top of her butt and slipped all the way to her feet. From the foot of the deck chair, I had a clear view between her legs and could just make out her pussy as I slowly worked my way up. I made sure to rub the inside of her thighs, only avoiding touching her pussy by an inch. She had clutched her butt cheeks at that, so I didn’t go higher. I put a generous amount on her lightly tanned derriere. I quickly laid down beside her to hide my growing cock. She looked over at me and smiled. Again, I could not take my eyes off of those kitty cat lips of hers. I wanted to kiss them. Her simple innocence was turning me on.

We lay in the sun, walked the decks, swam in the pool, and talked all day. At one point, I told her I needed to buy some new clothes when we made port, and said, “Everything I brought to wear are old man’s clothes.”

She looked excited and asked, “Can I help you purchase them?”

I looked at those beautiful eyes and told her, “My dear, you can dress me like a Ken doll, if you would like.”

She was silent for a minute and a blush rose up her chest to her face. I wondered if she had played with her Barbie and Ken dolls as a youth, putting them in sexual positions and dressing Ken. She smiled at me and said, “I think I would like that.” We dressed for dinner. Again, I was wearing my white pants and Cuban shirt, the only things I had to wear. She agreed that I needed more clothes. At the end of the evening, I again walked her to her cabin. At the door, she kissed me with more passion but didn’t instantly disappear inside. It appeared she was in thought, before she nervously asked, “Would you like to come in?”

Her cabin was a mirror image of my cabin, just on the other side of the ship. Everything was neatly put away and the bed was made with clean pressed sheets. If it had been my ex, she would have had her clothes strewn all over the place. I turned her around, held her close, and kissed her like I had never kissed a woman before, and she responded. I could feel her nipples harden against my hairy chest. I whispered in her ear, “I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I met you.”

“Me, too,” she whispered back, and we kissed again. I ran my hands down her back as we kissed, clutched her soft little butt, and she moaned into my mouth. She whispered again, “I want you.”

We laid down on the bed, me beside her, and continued kissing, as we explored each other. I played with her nipples and kissed below her ears and her neck, as she moaned. Finally, she got up the courage to touch me, and I felt her wrap her hand around my hard cock. We continued to kiss until I decided to move south. I sucked her nipples, flicking the end with my tongue, and she shuddered. I slowly worked my way down to her mound, spread her legs, and blew on her pussy as I descended, and she shuddered again. When I was in position, I licked her from her little rosebud ass to the top of her clit, and she shuddered again. I think they were little orgasms. I played with her small plump pussy lips, sucking them between my lips, trying to build her up slowly. I slipped my tongue into her pussy as far as I could go and licked up some of her juices. She had a different taste from most women I had eaten. She was a little sweet. Finally, I moved up to her clit. It was standing tall, outside of the hood. I licked it, and she shuddered again. I nipped it with my teeth, and she shuddered again. I eventually took it between my lips and sucked it like I had her nipples, flicking the end with my tongue. She thrust her pelvis skyward and howled her release, clutching my head to her pussy, so I could not move away, as the muscles in her legs and stomach rippled and shook uncontrollably and her pussy was squirting onto my chin. She was having a massive orgasm. She lowered her butt as it passed, but pulled me up on top of her by my ears, and I came willingly. On my elbows and knees above her, with my cock rubbing her wet pussy and her arms wrapped around my neck, she whispered in my ear, “Please be easy. It’s my first time.” I took my cock and lined it up with her hole and started putting pressure on her opening, but she was very tight. She was wet enough and my cock was wet from her pussy, so I pressed a little harder. Just as the head slipped inside, she gasped again, and her pussy clamped down on the head of my cock. She whispered, “Go slow,” so I waited for her to relax and loosen her grip on me. When she did, I descended another inch and came to a barrier, and she said, “Stop and give me a moment.”

I looked into her eyes and asked, “Vickie, are you a virgin?” a little astonished.

She said, “Yes, I told you it was my first time.” I held myself very still until she shifted a little and wrapped her legs around my back, with her little feet on my butt and said, “Okay, Now!” and pulled my butt down with her feet. I felt the barrier break and I dropped a couple of inches deeper into her. She said, “Ouch. That hurt more than I thought it would.” Again, I remained motionless. Finally, I could feel her loosen up inside, and she started tugging me with her feet again. I eased on in until I hit bottom, and she had all of me. She opened her eyes and looked at me and said, “You are so big, and I am so full. I’ve wanted this for so long. Please make love to me now that you’ve made me a woman.” I carefully started moving, a little at a time, out a half inch, and in a half inch, out an inch and in an inch. I slowly built up to full strokes. Then, I started picking up speed, but I didn’t want to pound her his time. I wanted to make slow passionate love to her. I kissed her ear. I kissed her neck. I even bent as far down as I could and caught her nipples between my teeth, as she moaned louder and louder. I moved faster and faster, and watched as her eyes started rolling back in her head and her head swung side to side. Just as she reached orgasm, she screamed, “Oh Jeffrey, I’ve wanted this since high school.”

I could feel my cum rising as a sudden realization came to me. Those eyes, those kitty cat lips, I knew them. I felt my first jet of cum rushing up from my balls, and I shouted, “Victoria Hughes, is that you?”

Vickie had another big contraction and screamed, “Yes!” at the top of her voice, as I pumped my first load deep into her womb. Her arms around my neck were crushing my head into her neck, and her legs continued to pump on my ass, encouraging me to go as deep as I could into her pussy. My balls worked overtime, as I continued to pump my cum as deep into her as I could, over and over. I didn’t know it was possible to cum that much at one time.

After our orgasms had passed, I started to pull out of her, but she clutched me harder and said, “No, not yet. Stay in me, please.” So I did, supporting my weight so I wouldn’t crush her. After a few minutes, I felt her looking at me. I lifted my head and looked into those familiar eyes. She said, “I’ve wanted you since the 10^th grade, J.J.”

That did it. No one had called me J.J. since I graduated from high school. My name is Jeffrey Johnson, but I disliked the nickname J.J. that some of the students had called me.