Chapter 7

We spent the day idling along. There were a few islands visible here and there, the Bahamas I think, and a couple of ships in the distance. I kicked back and relaxed. Over breakfast I'd gotten permission to stay out later than normal; I'd be 'dancing' at the club. I think 'last-night' nostalgia overtook my folks. When I asked, they readily agreed, and my heart sang. I'd be 'dancing' all right, the two-person tango.

I made a point of going through the picture gallery. I found the one of me and Hank and bought it. I didn't know if he wanted a copy. I'd ask him when I could, that is if I remembered.

I raced through dinner, and put on my dancing dress. "Lucky you," Suzy said when I inspected myself in the mirror. "Mom and Dad want me to go with them to some dumb movie."

"Just wait another year," I told her. My pulse was pounding and I could feel moisture on my thighs. I wasn't even in the cabin, I was still getting dressed, and I was already wet. This was going to be a good night. I wondered if the guys were already hard. I hoped so.

It turned into an even better night than the others. We started early—the guys weren't hard, but they got that way quickly as we undressed each other—and took our time. The previous nights we'd started by 8:30, and were done by 11:00. This time we started at 6:30, and we went until nearly midnight. The guys rested, we rested, and joined and rejoined. I was a thoroughly sated young lady by the time I cleaned up and headed to the club.

I danced with a couple of people. My body felt like liquid, smooth and supple, and oh so sexy and alluring. And I would have stayed until they shut the place down at 2:00, but Mom came up to get me.

"We dock at 8:00," she said as I unwillingly followed her back to our cabins, "and it's going to be a long day. You need to get your sleep."

"Well, if you get up and I'm not there, I'll probably be watching us dock." I had to get that out of the way in case she did and got worried. I'd asked Hank a very private question, and he'd agreed. I wouldn't be in my bed, I'd be in his. But not for several hours; we both needed our rest.

"Just as long as you're packed and ready to go. We're scheduled to disembark at 9:00."

"I'll be ready."

I laid out what I was going to wear in the morning, a top and a flip skirt, packed all my make-up and other things, and lay down to get some rest. I felt alive and ready to go, something I'd noticed happened every time we'd partied.

I got up early—I have this internal alarm clock that does that—and dressed. Suzy mumbled something in her sleep and rolled over. That was good, I didn't want her to see too much of how I was dressing. She'd tell Mom that my bra and panties were in my bag, not on my body like they should be.

That was one of the things I'd seen when I was at that party in St. Thomas. You don't wear a skirt or dress without wearing panties. That's ingrained in a girl from the moment she's self-aware. It's just not done. Why, if you slipped and fell, people could see everything! Now there were times it was permitted. On formal night there was no way I could wear a bra under my dress. Panties ... there are some that fit so well you can't tell that they're being worn. I had packed them, but I hadn't worn them. I did the whole formal night thing with just the dress on.

I didn't want underwear slowing me down this morning. Personally I thought there was something sexy and wicked in lifting the hem of my skirt and showing off. Young ladies aren't supposed to do that, but right now I wasn't a 'young lady', or at least I wasn't the 'lady' part of that.

Hank had an inside cabin and opened his cabin door at the first knock. He was wearing one of the robes they hang in the closet. He helped me with my clothes, I helped him with his, and in seconds we were both naked.

We did the shared oral sex thing, '69' I'd heard it called, but when he was nice and hard, and I was so wet I was practically gushing, we moved on to the main course. When he reached for the packet with the condom, I stopped him.

"I want you in me, and I don't want any barriers between us, not even that."

"You're sure?" He still had the condom in his hand and looked like he was going to tear it open. "You know what that means?"

"I'll promise you that you're the only guy I'll do it with like this."

"Mighty big promise for so young in your life."

"But easy to keep. After these last few days I think I can pretty definitely say no boy I meet in high school is going to get anywhere."

He looked at me for a few seconds longer. Finally he nodded. "Just so long as you keep that promise."

It felt a lot different going in than if it'd been covered by a condom. The latex makes a guy's manhood feel slick, and I wanted the slight roughness I remembered from that first night. I got it, and it was just as good as I remembered, maybe better.

I'd been a little worried that he wouldn't be able to get off, after all, he'd done it with four women only a few hours before, but he rose to the challenge. Now most sex acts only take between two and 15 minutes, at least that's what I'd read in a magazine. A lot of that is because once it goes in, guys have trouble controlling their excitement. Their push is to complete. A girl's is to keep the process going, and get a completion out of it if you can. But Hank knew that, and he paced himself, pulling out from time to time so it wasn't over too soon. I was under no such limitation, and I melted at least twice.

We did it every way we could, him on top, me on top, on our sides (he couldn't get as deep that way), him behind me (he got really deep, so much I thought he was poking my stomach), and so on. I wasn't sure which way I liked it best. I liked being on top because I could control the depth and angle, but I liked being underneath, too, because I could hold and play with his body.

Don't let them kid you, playing with a guy's body is a lot of fun. Their skin is rougher than a girl's, and their nipples respond just as well as a ours do. But the real treat is to run your hands over their body as they're laboring away. I especially liked holding Hank's bottom, feeling the muscles shift back and forth as he drove it into me.

Eventually we settle down to what we knew as going to be the finale. I was under him, staring down between our bodies, watching his manhood as it appeared and disappeared beneath the curve of my tummy. Then I looked up, and pulled him down for a kiss. It shot right through me, and brought me off. Don't ever let them tell you that a kiss can't do that.

We began to move faster, and I matched every stroke with a push back up of my own. This was something I'd seen on St. Thomas. One of the guys had held still, and the girl rammed herself repeatedly on him. It took me a few strokes to get the timing right, and to get my legs hooked on his hips so I could pull myself onto him, but that's how we finished. I felt so wide open it was incredible.

I'd had plenty of climaxes this last week, but this one was the best. We both got there at the same time. Those last few seconds when we reached our peak together were priceless. And when it was over—all too soon in my book—we slumped together, still joined, our arms and legs wrapped around each, holding each other in the most intimate way possible.

We drifted like that for a while. I'd missed this with the condoms. When he uses one the guy has to pull out nearly right away so he doesn't leave it inside. But not now. We held each other until he slipped out naturally, just the way it should be.

We cleaned up a little, enough so Mom wouldn't detect any 'sex smell' on me. A lingering kiss while we dressed, and then I had to leave. I had an alibi to consider after all. I did remember to get his phone number and address, both postal and email.

Getting off the ship was tedious. After breakfast we sat in a lounge until they called us. We got ashore, found our luggage, and made our way to the car rental place. Dad got a sedan that would hold all of us, and we headed for Orlando and Walt Disney World. Three days later we were lifted on golden wings and deposited in Jackson. Our magical trip was over.

The girls at school wanted to know what happened. They saw the mark my halter top had left when we were snorkeling, so they immediately and wrongly concluded that I hadn't gone topless. So with that potential bit of naughtiness out of the way, they zeroed in on the rest of it.

"I had a great time," I said. "I met a guy, and every other night I had sex with him and his friends." I sighed theatrically. "It was great."

Now that was the absolute truth, but group sex is so far out of the average teenage girl's realm that they dismissed that right away. Meeting a guy, however, was okay.

"I did go to a topless beach on St. Maarten," I said. "And a little farther on it was completely nude."

"Did you... ?"

I shook my head, choosing the implication that I'd been naked in front of a lot of strangers. "Let me tell you, you saw things you really shouldn't see."

"Such as?" I had a crowd of rather breathless girls crowded around me, and they were practically hanging on my every word.

"There was this fat guy." I rolled my eyes. "He had such a tiny thing, too. And this woman..."

I dropped a few more hints, and the next day brought my laptop to school and showed everyone the pictures I'd taken. All of them were family appropriate, including the one set of beach pictures I'd taken. Those I'd snapped on St. Thomas from the back of one of the stores as we'd shopped. Big whoop, everyone was in bathing suits, and nothing was showing that you couldn't see at the public pool.

My 'adventure' gradually slipped into the background. Prom Night was coming up, and attention shifted to what everyone was wearing, and who they were going with. And not a little discussion about what was going to happen afterwards.

I wore the formal I'd worn on the ship, but this time with panties. I didn't want to put any wrong ideas in the male head. The average teenage male brain doesn't have much room in it after girls and maybe beer, and I didn't want to get the hormones more aroused than normal.

The prom was great. My date wasn't as good a dancer as some of the people I'd met on the ship, but we had fun. And I politely turned him down afterwards.

I think I was one of a handful of girls who did. My class had 138 girls. A few of us had our monthlies, but of the rest, I think only four or five told their dates no. There were a few accidents, too. Six girls produced bundles of joy the following February. One of them was married already (she was 19!), but the others let the emotions of the evening rule. That was a sobering reminder to someone who intended to make casual sex her hobby.

I did hear from Mary, Robin, Chelsea (and Hank!) over the summer. They had to wait to see what college I was going to. I'd lined up a lot of partial scholarships, enough that Mom and Dad kicked in only about $200/month for general expenses. I heard Dad snort and say it was less than what I normally cost while I was at home, but Dad always worried about money.