A Voyage into Night Ch. 02

"I was expecting you to beat me with the bar stool for being such a clumsy cunt, trust me, anything else is a bonus". Laughing, she turned to signal the bartender:

"You shouldn't give me ideas, it's still early." She said with a grin.

His name was Carl and he, along with four of his friends, were cruising the Mediterranean in celebration of passing their final year at University (well, only three of them had passed but, as Carl had explained it, they couldn't exactly uninvite their friend Alex after he had got spectacularly pissed and slept through his final exams). Their initial plan had been for a walking tour of Europe, but they had bought the cruise as a last-minute online deal. As Carl put it: "Not exactly the most adventurous way to see the world but it was far more comfortable and at least you could get pissed between places."

She liked his easy-going nature and the way he refused to take anything seriously. She wasn't sure how successful he would be out in the real world. The Price Comparison website he planned to design and launch on his return did not seem any different from any of the others she had seen mentioned on television through the medium of annoying, repetitive commercials. He didn't seem to be that interested in her life either but, to be honest, for the purposes of tonight that was probably a good thing.

Still, he was cute; young, but cute. He was the sort of boy she never would have approached when she had been at University, mainly down to her own self doubt. Well, ring in the changes. So, when a booth became vacant for them to sit down, it was Isobel who suggested they move there. And it was Isobel who did not object, or move away, when Carl, leaning forward to explain something she didn't quite follow about algorithms, placed his hand on her bare knee, just beneath the hem of her dress.

An hour later, and she was on the dance floor with Carl and his friends, enjoying herself thoroughly. He had made a number of attempts to kiss her, which she had avoided, not wanting to go there just yet. He seemed keen, and had hung on in there without pouting so she had already decided she would probably be going to bed with him, if he offered; another event that had not happened in a long while. She had made the wise decision to switch over to water, not wanting to lose all control, but she had drunk enough alcohol for her to be able to relax and simply go with it.

Then, suddenly, far too quickly for her, as the sounds Dexy's Midnight Runners faded away, the lights in the nightclub brightened, and the DJ was wishing them a very good night, and Carl was standing there with a very clear and obvious question in his eyes. Smiling she took his hand. He lent forward to whisper in her ear: "How about I walk you to your cabin?" She shook her head, there was no way in hell she was going back there, not tonight. Disappointment and irritation flashed on his face. She squeezed his hand reassuringly:

"My cabin's a shit-tip. How about yours?" That a least brought a smile to his face although he too shook his head:

"We are all sharing the same cabin, it's not exactly private." He held her gaze, making sure his meaning was clear. That was disappointing, although she accepted that, although there was still safety in numbers she quite liked the idea of being alone with him, if only for a few hours. An idea occurred to her and she brightened.

"Leave it to me, I may have a solution you'll like." She said, winking. He looked puzzled but he allowed himself to be led from the dance floor, nodding to his friends as he passed. She chose to ignore the grins they exchanged as she made her way to the lifts.

They were alone in the lift as they travelled down five levels. She had expected him to make a move on her and was slightly disappointed when he politely waited for them to reach their destination, his hand gently holding hers. At one point he did tickle the palm of her hand with his middle finger; a gentle, secret gesture which made her wish he would drop the nice guy act and just go for it. Jesus, he's actually more nervous than me, she thought. Now this was new; unprecedented in fact. She enjoyed the thrill than came with the knowledge that she was in control here.

The lift deposited them at the main service desk, one that was manned by someone Isobel knew: a young guy who had had cause to visit her surgery in order to help with a rather embarrassing condition he had picked up after a fling with a fellow passenger. It was because of this Isobel had become aware of a certain system that was in place whenever members of staff required somewhere to go that was private. A very short discussion and soon Isobel and Carl were back in the lift with a new keycard clutched in the doctor's hand.

When they initially entered the lift Isobel had planned to initiate the first move but sadly they weren't the only ones making the journey. She did take the opportunity to 'accidentally' brush the back of her hand against the groin of his jeans. Carl grinned at her, shaking his head at her shocking behaviour. Isobels's own level of excitement grew when she saw a prominent bulge grow in the young man's jeans. She fought the urge to move her hand back.

When the lift doors opened they were the only ones to get out on their floor. Eyeing the arrows on the walls indicating cabin numbers they turned left, then right into a long corridor that gave every sign of running down the entire length of the ship.

She decided not to wait any longer: she stopped dead in the hallway and, when Carl, surprised, turned to face her, she pressed him back against the wall of the corridor with both hands, a violent push that seemed to sent a tremor radiating out along the wall in both directions. He opened his mouth to speak but she preempted him by leaning up and kissing him, shutting him up, at least for the moment.

He was a good five inches taller than her and she was enjoying overturning his expectations as to how this would go. She pressed her body into his, enjoying the evidence of his arousal pushing into her stomach. When he moved his hand to her face she gently, but firmly, brushed it aside, continuing the kiss, leaning into his hard, muscular body. Without breaking contact she reached down to the belt at his jeans. Again he brought his hand up, this time to stop her, and again she pushed his hand down, pressing it against the wall. He broke the kiss, smiling: "Wouldn't this be a little easier somewhere a little more private?" She kissed him again, a light teasing kiss, she was enjoying this:

"Why? Don't tell me your shy all of a sudden.."

"Its not that, it's just...", his words trailed off as he felt her hands loosen the top button of his jeans, then the next one. "Your mad!" His voice came out in an awed breath, "your fucking insane!"

"Exactly," she said, reaching a hand inside his jeans, pressing against his hardness, "and it may help things enormously if you try not to forget it." Smiling, she reached up to kiss him again, just as her questing fingers found , and took hold, of the firm hardness of his cock, hot in her hand. She pulled it fully from his jeans. Again he raised his arms to object, but this time he lowered them of his own accord. Seriously, who was he to argue, especially when she started to squeeze, and stroke, and pull, in such a way that, for a moment he worried whether he might lose it right there and then in the hallway.

She looked up, studying him, one hand on his chest, and the other moving in gentle rhythms along his length. He knew he could easily push back against her, give her a taste of her own medicine, but the movement of her hand felt fucking amazing. Gazing down at her upturned face, the freckles, the green eyes studying him, he was lost for a moment. Then he bent down to taste the inside of her mouth. Her lips was firm but yielding against his and her tongue had the heady flavour of red wine. It was a deep exploration of a kiss and for a while they stayed like that, leaning against the wall as she continued to move her hand, bringing him closer to the edge.

Breaking the kiss she moved her head to one side, tracing kisses along his jawline, sandpapery with stubble, then to his neck. He groaned as he felt her teeth take a series of playful nips and then...

"What the fuck!" he started, pushing her away reaching up to his neck. Was he bleeding? What the fuck! He looked at his hand and saw there was no sign of blood. The stinging on his neck began to fade. He looked at her accusingly. Expecting an apology he was a little taken aback when Isobel merely shushed him and offering him a slight, almost innocent smile. Speechless he watched her take a keycard from her handbag, before inserted it into the door next to them.

Isobel glanced up at him and, for a moment, she felt a pang of guilt over sinking her teeth into his shoulder, but it had been very hard to resist. But, as much as she was enjoying this he was right, it would be better if it was more private, and besides, she could feel a familiar prickling along her scamp and neck. The corridor was empty in both directions, but she still felt watched.

"Come on," she said, opening the door and stepping in, "unless you want to just call it a night and go back to your lads pad? It's entirely up to you." She let the door swung shut behind her and it was all he could do to hurriedly do up his jeans and stick his foot in the gap before it closed completely. Fuck it, he thought to himself, at least he would have a story to tell. Then he opened the door and followed her inside, his erection still painfully pressed against the inside of his jeans.

He hesitated.a moment to take in the room. It was huge, much bigger than the joint room where he and his mates were staying, this was more like a penthouse suite, complete with a large, double-door balcony to go with the large bed. He looked questioningly at Isobel.

"It's a big ship," she said with a grin, "not everyone of these is booked so it's available for those who want it," she dropped her jacket on the floor in an untidy heap, "providing you know the right people." He couldn't help but stare at her; beautiful and sexy in her black dress. He had a moment's doubt: she was way out of his league; older, intelligent, gorgeous. The fact that she acted a little unhinged only added to the attraction. Coming towards him she gave him a light peck on the lips "I'm just going to freshen up. Why don't you see if there's anything worth stealing from the minibar?" Her hand rested gently on the bulge in his jeans, one playfully squeeze, then she was gone, shutting the bathroom door behind her.

He had a moment to gather his senses and to calm his nerves. His mouth seemed bone dry so he decided to follow her suggestion. He quickly found, and opened, a bottle of what he assumed was champagne which had been chilling nicely in a small fridge. The cork came out with a satisfying pop and he managed not to spill too much of it as he filled two glasses with the ice-cold foaming liquid.

He was just reaching for a napkin to soak up the overspill when there came three quiet but distinct knocks on the door outside. He hesitated for a moment, uncertain as to what to do. They weren't meant to be here after all. Then, deciding that the best option was to brazen it out he said, as confidently as he could manage: "Come in!" There was silence. He waited for a moment, and then made his way back to the door. He put his eye to the peephole but could only make out the distorted fish-eye view of an empty corridor.

Just as he was about to move his head away he was startled to see a shadow suddenly pass in front of the lens. Acting on impulse he quickly opened the door, then craned his head out to look down the corridor, first one way, then another: nothing. Now that was fucking weird, he told himself, before returning to his drink.

When Isobel emerged from the bathroom she found him standing in the open balcony, looking out over the dark sea far below them. He turned when he heard her approach, held up a glass: "I poured you a drink, it's over there on the side. Not sure what it is but it's cold and bubbly and I'm sure it will get you pissed if you drink enough of it." He gestured to the bedside table. Isobel picked up the glass, took a sip, shivered as a delightful chill trickled down her body. She looked at him, framed between open windows and against the night sky. The moon was shining full and bright in a cloudless dark sky. He really was quite delicious; deep down she was amazed at how calm she was being; how on control she was. She was curious how far she could push this. Reaching over she flicked a light switch. Moonlight alone was more than enough to see by.

Walking into the middle of the room, by the bed, she took another drink of what she suspected was not only champagne, but champagne to be drunk by people in a completely different tax bracket to her. She took another long drink, then placed the empty glass on the side table.

"Take of your clothes." She said it casually, not really a command, but said in a tone of voice that expected compliance.

"Yes, ma'am", Carl said grinning, taking a step forward. She stopped him with a gesture.

"No, no, no. Out there. I want to see you under the moonlight" He held her gaze, unsure for a moment, then began to remove his clothes. Isobel sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes drinking in the sight as Carl lifted his shirt over his head. Her gaze travelled down his body. Shit, she thought, he even has a six pack. He was smiling again, enjoying her appreciation as he removed his shoes, kicking them off along with his socks. The breeze from over the ocean was cold enough to raise goosebumps but he didn't stop.

She watched as he slipped out of his jeans, kicking them to one side. She bit her lip as she saw evidence of his erection through his underwear: Calvin Klein's naturally. Usually she would have been tempted to mock but not now. God, he was gorgeous. She looked towards his boxers, raising an eyebrow, indicated that she wasn't satisfied, not yet. While he was considering this she stood up, and slowly lowered the straps of her dress from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Her underwear was black and, thank God, matching. It was as if she had known how this night was probably going to end.

He stared approvingly at her slender body. She looked amazing in her underwear, the only slight false note being the small crucifix dangling on a silver chain but even that seemed to add to the alluring contradictions of this woman. Then, (in for a penny), he lowered his underwear to the floor.

He waited for her to make a move, feeling slightly self conscious but also unbelievably turned on. It occurred to him that this might all be a trick; some kind of piss-take where she grabs his clothes and makes a run for it. But then this amazing, beautiful, crazy woman was joining him on the balcony, her arms reaching up around his neck, pulling him close. She closed her eyes as she kissed him, her mouth passionate and insisting; tired of all the waiting. He returned the passion, wrapping his arms around her, feeling her cool skin against his own. His erection was so hard it ached, and he moaned into her mouth as he felt her fingers again take hold.

His cock felt weighty in her hand, thick and hard. His whole body seemed made of stone. She began to trace kisses down his body, his chest, his nipples, then down to his stomach. Her tongue flickered out to taste sea salt. Then her mouth found his cock and she savoured the texture of it on her tongue, running her lips along his length. He leaned back against the balcony railing and let loose a groan towards the starry heavens. She took her time, tracing the pattern of veins with her tongue, softly kissing the head, before she opened her lips and took him into her mouth. Her hands held on to his powerful thighs and she slowly took him in deeper, then withdrawing almost to the tip, before taking him in again. She timed her movements to the rhythmic swell of the sea below

She had no idea how long she knelt there, losing herself in the touch and taste of him, feeling the caress of the sea breeze, but it was Carl who broke the rhythm. He was so close to losing it that he pulled away. Then she found his strong arms pulling her up and enclosing her as again his mouth found hers. She held onto his neck as she received his kiss, answering it with a passion of her own. Then it was her turn to be pressed against the railings and she felt his hands fumbling at the clasp on her bra. She was on the edge of telling him to simply rip the fucking thing off when it finally came undone and she felt his mouth seize hard on her breast. She gasped at the shock of pleasure as his tongue played roughly over her nipple, bringing it to life in a burst of flame that seemed to trace a line straight down to her cunt. Then his hand was pressing through her panties, her sopping wet panties, and she felt the hard insistence of his fingers seek to gain entry.

"Bite me," She moaned, "use your teeth, please". She cried out when she felt them on her nipple, the burst of pain and then the sweeping wave of pleasure. But he was still holding back, she could sense it. "The bed.." She found the words to gasp. He picked her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. He laid her down onto it and again she felt the touch of his mouth on her breasts, his tongue, his teeth. She squirmed as he began moving lower, tracing kisses down her body while his hands worked to remove her underwear. Then, she felt his strong hands part her legs and his kisses reached her belly button... then lower.

She moaned in frustration as his mouth passed over the lips of her pussy to plant kisses on the inside of her thigh. Then, his mouth opened and he gently bit her there and for a moment Isobel closed her eyes and saw Kira's face as her body had arched in pleasure at the vampire's bite. "Harder!" She pleaded, but he had already moved on. She felt his fingers spread the folds of her sex, exposing her clit. A cold wind came in from the open balcony and seemed to massage her there with fingers of ice. Then his mouth was on her and his tongue was making rough, unsubtle explorations. Then his tongue found that most sensitive part of her, and got to work. She grabbed hold of his hair, pushing him in harder, as a powerful surge of pleasure spread upwards throughout her body. Pushing her head back onto the bed she groaned her approval. Then she turned her face towards the open balcony, feeling the cool breeze on her hot face. She closed her eyes, savouring the varied sensations flowing through and over her body. She opened her eyes.

The dark woman was standing on the balcony, motionless, watching them. Watching her. For a moment Isobel forgot about Carl and what he was doing to her. The woman was dressed in black, a long flowing dress that covered her from her feet to her chin. The only part of her not covered was her pale, beautiful face, framed by flowing black hair. Against the dark sky it almost seemed as though her face emerged from the night itself. Even her lips were black. The only other colour was in the depths of the woman's eyes: a deep, hungry fire. Isobel closed her eyes, took a moment to calm herself, and then opened them again. The woman had taken a step into the room. Isobel had a moment to think that this was unfair, that she hadn't offered an invitation, before the fear faded. She smiled at the woman, welcoming her.

Carl continues to use his tongue, oblivious to the figure behind him. Breaking off he gazed up into Isobel's eyes. "I want to fuck you!" He said, plain and simple. Isobel looked from the woman to him. It took a second for his words to sink in

"Say that again." She breathed, her chest rising and falling.