Chapter 2: Free Love

As you might imagine by now, Hanspeter, my husband, shares my open view on sex outside the marriage. From the start, we had agreed that each of us was so sexually charged that we had to have it whenever possible. And since initially we had served on different ships, we had to take our pleasures wherever and whenever we could find them.

Once we wound up on the same ship, before moving as a couple to the Magnificent Lollypop, Hanspeter as Captain was able to commandeer any unsold cabin for casual fucking, with each other and with various passengers. We acted as procurers for each other. I invited single women or married couples to dine with us at the Captain's Table, choosing women whom I thought might hit it off with my husband. He did the same for me, with men and couples. Sometimes we turned it into a foursome; other times we split into two couples with me and my escort relegated to my cabin in the crew quarters.

The other crew members knew what was going on, but no one cared. After all, none of them was celibate anyway. When I told my husband about my meeting at the hot tub, he was thrilled with the idea of watching our show. He also said that if we turned it into a regular foursome, it would be great. He especially was turned on by the idea of fucking an expensive call girl for free. As it turned out, our little party had to be pushed back twenty-four hours. A large storm was forecast and Hanspeter felt that he should stay on the bridge all night. I offered to blow him up there but I knew that he wouldn't care to put on a show for the other Officers.

The following night, when I logged out at midnight, I picked up Patrick and Kathy in the ship's small showroom/lounge. They were dressed in the official 'country club casual' common to small ships like ours. I, having just sent the crowd to the casino or bars, or some to their beds, was dressed in my usual Cruise Director duds. We went to our pied a terre in the passenger section of the ship. Hanspeter was waiting for us, dressed in the formal Captain's uniform that he wore on the bridge. He had the bar all laid out for us, though he restricted himself to soft drinks unless we were at home ashore. He could always hold his liquor but I was proud that he never tried to do so while he was in charge of the ship.

I introduced our guests. The men shook hands and my husband bent forward to touch cheeks with Kathy. There had been no discussion about whether she and I would simply munch each other or whether the men would join in. I had no preferences. So long as no money changed hands, I was perfectly willing to let Patrick fuck me.

Kathy had apparently never been a stripper or a pole dancer. Her job was not to excite men. Those to whom she exposed her charms had to bring their own erections. She disrobed like the well-paid whore that she was, promptly and expeditiously. She didn't throw her garments to the floor; she hung them up like a lady. They were the tools of her trade and as such were treated with care.

My history had been different. My sex had always been for passion, not profit. I had to be excited before my clothing came off – not that it took very much to excite me. And when my pussy said 'give me some fresh air' I threw my clothing in all different directions. My mantra was 'who cares about wrinkles.'

But this situation was different. I was the hostess in what would likely become a mini-orgy. I was a ship's officer, and therefore a representative of the cruise line (my father) and the ship's Captain (my husband). At all times my conduct reflected upon them both. And so I too hung up each garment as it left my body.

I studied Kathy's naked body as we faced each other, this time going into more detail than previously in the locker room. Her perfect tits stood proudly, hard nipples at attention. Her clean-shaven pubic area was highlighted by moisture-glistening labia announcing her desire to proceed. Her curvy body made me so jealous that I (figuratively) wanted to scratch her eyes out.

Instead I held out my arms and she folded herself inside them. Her breasts pressed against mine, just two inches lower. I sighed. Much as I've loved a hard cock since my uncle had made me a woman on my sixteenth birthday, and consider myself a flaming heterosexual, still the occasional touch of a sensual woman brings delights and thrills that no man can dream of providing.

Our lips touched, ever so softly, and stayed attached even as they parted to make way for searching tongues. We inhaled quietly as they dueled in our respective mouths for over a minute. My hand then moved up to caress her fleshy orb while she squeezed my ass. At the same time, from the corner of my eye, I saw Patrick stand and begin to disrobe. Hanspeter followed him quickly. Though their eyes never left our bodies, they followed our lead and hung their clothing.

Kathy and I sank down onto the cabin's queen sized bed. We lay next to each other, face to face. With lips still affixed, our hands roamed all over one another. And while I never doubted that she would allow my mouth to feast on her nipples, would allow my fingers to explore her wet depths, still my mind wandered and wondered about the details of Kathy's agreement with Patrick.

As a whore, she clearly made her body available for (almost) anything that his libido could conjure up. But what about me and what about Hanspeter? Would she expect extra money from Patrick for letting my husband and me use her? Would she demand from her employer of the week the money that he had offered me? As a whore, she would never 'give it away', so to speak, not even for a woman. And certainly she would expect more for allowing a second man, my husband, to pleasure himself in one or more of her feminine openings. I smiled at the imaginary picture. We would all fuck and suck until we were satisfied, and then when they went back to their suite, she would close her legs and mouth to him, and her anal opening if that had been part of their deal, until he wired that USD 7,500 to her bank account. The idea made me proud to be a woman.