Elizabeth 06: The Honeymoon

James and I retired to the table after two dances. Irene, at that point, was chatting with Gregory and his friends by the bar. Shortly after we had sat back down, Frances and Keith stopped by to pay their share of our tab and say good night. "We're exhausted," Frances said. "But thank you so much for inviting us! It's been a lovely evening."

"Will we see you tomorrow at breakfast?" Keith asked me.

"I certainly hope so," I said, standing up to receive his kiss on my cheek.

"Well, either way, you will be getting a wedding invitation, I promise," Frances said. "And we may well be moving here if either of us can find work."

"That would be lovely!" I said, and Frances and I embraced. Then they were off. As they returned home the following morning, I was not to see them again until their wedding.

"Afraid I've got to go as well," James said. "Briefs left to work on before I can go to bed. I shouldn't have come out at all, really, but when Keith told me he was having dinner with you, well, I couldn't resist."

"I am ever so glad you didn't," I said, privately relieved that we would not be jumping in bed just yet. Though delighted at his invitation, I did need some time to think. "Tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night is for us, I promise!" he said, standing up to take his leave. We gave the others in attendance another kiss to admire, and I held him tightly for several seconds before releasing him. "I'll have my flat cleaned up for you and everything!" he vowed.

"Good night, James." I nearly added an 'I love you', but that seemed just a bit too forward just yet.

A vague sense of loyalty compelled me to linger at the empty table until Irene returned, having bid good night to Gregory and his friends and seen them out the door. I feared a bit of jealousy upon her return, but was pleasantly surprised with an almost girlish squeal of approval. "I just know James asked you out, dear. Tell me he did!"

"He did," I confirmed, taking her hands in mine as she plopped down across the table from me. "Claridge's, tomorrow night. And Gregory? Did he ask you?"

"No, dear," Irene said, opening her handbag to count out her share of the bill. "I asked him!"

"Good for you, then!" I said. "I suppose I could have taken the bull by the horns with James as well."

"You did, did you not, when you invited him upstairs yesterday?"

"I suppose so," I conceded. "Rather a backwards way of doing things, but..."

"But so what?" Irene said. "Now you two know you are compatible in that respect, and clearly he enjoyed you enough to want to see more of you, rather than simply settling for the knowledge that he's had you like that. You could do far worse, Agnes!"

"Thank you. Well said, my dear. And you! Gregory? Nice enough fellow, but I had no sense of your interest in him."

"I have been here on my own quite often of late," Irene explained. "He and I have exchanged our share of pleasantries before, but the poor dear never asked me for a dance. So tonight I asked him."

"Good for you!" I was immensely proud of my friend, and reminded of just how much I loved my new life in the city; back home a woman would never do such a thing. With a contented sigh, I looked into my friend's eyes and clasped both her hands in mine. "I am ever so happy for both of us!"

"We are both overdue for a new beginning, aren't we?" Irene agreed. "Of course, I suppose this means you and I will no longer be free to play together, shall we?"

"Not from tomorrow night onward. But tonight..." I felt my face break into a mischievous grin, and to my delight I saw complete agreement in Irene's eyes.

The rain was light but persistent, and we clutched at each other and laughed at the situation as we made our way back to Irene's flat. Naturally we were spotted by a number of others who knew us, and there was little doubt that the rumours about us would be circulating anew by morning. I didn't mind in the least as I looked forward to a final, shameless tumble in Irene's arms. And from her giddy prattle about the rain and Gregory and everything and nothing, there was little doubt that she didn't care in the least either.

Both our dresses were quite damp when we arrived home, of course. That only added to the steamy promise of the evening. Guided by the glow from the streetlights out the windows, I found my way to Irene's couch and turned on the electric light beside it while she drew the curtains. "Let's unfold the bed now as well," Irene said once that was done. "We'll be needing it quite soon after all, my dear."

I giggled but said nothing as I removed the cushions and stacked them aside, and helped unfold the bed. A few drops of rainwater spattered onto the sheets as I did. "My hair is wetter than I thought," I said, running my hands through it.

"Allow me to dry it, then," Irene said, and presently she had found her way around behind me with a towel from the linen closet. She wrapped my head gently in the towel and patted all about it. Now I was more aware than ever of my damp dress, and I could hardly wait to get out of it. But first, Irene's hair was also a dripping mess. "My turn, dear," she said, handing me the towel.

I turned around but she did not, so I was facing her. As carefully as she had done with me, I patted her blonde locks with the towel, my face inches from hers. Just as I was patting down the nape of her neck and her hair against it, Irene leaned in and our lips met. I tossed the towel on the floor and wrapped my arms around her and was wonderfully aware of her doing likewise. The wet fabric clinging to both of us did nothing to cool our passions, rather serving as an added encouragement to undress one another.

I lost no time in unbuttoning Irene's dress. Still kissing her passionately, I unfastened each button and pulled the fabric apart as far as I could, around her shoulders so that her brassiere straps were free for me to tug at and tease. At last Irene broke the kiss and backed up far enough for me to pull the dress down; it slid off her arms and her waist and plopped to the floor. She stepped out of the pile of damp fabric and kicked it off to the side. "Now you," she whispered, and soon she had my skirt up around my belly and a gentle hand caressing my vulva through my panties, which she hastily pulled out of the way even before bothering any further with my dress. After a quick in-and-out tease with one finger, she returned to pulling my dress up with both hands. Eager to get her back to what she had been up to, I raised my arms, and presently my dress joined hers on the floor.

After a brief, strong embrace, I slid both my hands down Irene's sides and pushed her panties down to her knees; she promptly wiggled her legs until they had fallen the rest of the way. While rubbing her back (and a few aborted attempts at unclasping her brassiere) with my left hand, I reached around with my right and teased her vulva just as playfully as she had done to mine a moment before, and which I longed for her to do again. I soon got my wish, for I was still only stroking her lips carefully when I once again felt her finger probing me. Slow but determined, she reached deeper inside and took my breath away.

"Ah, so lovely!" I whispered, thrusting my hips up against hers.

"You are free to return the favour!" she hinted.

"Am I going too slowly for you, my dear?" I asked. "It is only that your nice big lips are such fun to play with. You are ever so lucky to have them!"

Despite the intense intimacy of the moment, Irene replied only with a shy smile and another kiss. I knew how self-conscious she was about her large vulva, and how pleasant my positive response to it was for her. I would miss stroking it so! But that meant I would not be rushed in my final opportunity to do so. I enjoyed several more long, luxurious strokes up and down her labia with my fingertips and, judging from her intense breaths in those moments, she enjoyed them as well. At last, I eased two fingers inside and curled them just as I knew she liked best. Finding her clitoris with my thumb, I rubbed gently on the outside and firmly on the inside, and soon had Irene in a joyful lather.

But not such a lather that she was unable to return the favour on me. I presently found myself getting as well as I gave, and my own primal responses filled the air alongside those I was inspiring in Irene. Gazing into one another's eyes, we shared an intimacy unlike any other as each of us felt the same sensation we were inspiring in the other in that wonderful moment.

Irene, being rather more experienced, rubbed me to orgasm first. That lovely loss of control caused me to break my rhythm for a moment, but this brought no complaints from Irene. To my delight, she left her fingers inside me while I resumed my caresses, and so I was able to savour the lingering sensation as I finally brought her off as well. Only when that had finally come to pass did she withdraw her hand, the better to remove my brassiere. I followed suit, able to do so at last using both hands, and we shared another tight embrace with both our undergarments undone but held in place by one another's body.

My appetite now whetted, I eased my clutch on Irene and, after hastily doing away with my brassiere and watching her do the same, I sprawled back on the bed with my legs open to her. She lingered over the bed for a moment, eyeing me hungrily while my entire body tingled with anticipation as well as desire for hers, and fingering her own clitoris playfully. "I have never done this before," she said, "But I can think of no one I feel more comfortable practicing it with for the first time."

I had but a moment to ponder that announcement before Irene climbed onto the bed and, facing away from me, crouched over my face. With her legs splayed as wide as my own, she lay down on top of me, and I had just enough time to realize what she intended to do before I was treated to her first long, luxurious kiss on my pussy. After a gasp of pleasure, I responded in kind and was rewarded with a moan that caused her lips to vibrate and tickle my pussy in the most delightful way. Encouraged and enthralled, I leaned in and licked harder, to her clear pleasure, which in turn intensified my own.

I cannot say I cared for the view with which Irene's position presented me, but that only encouraged me to close my eyes and concentrate more on giving her pleasure and indulging in my own. I adored the screeches and moans that my kisses produced, as well as the sensation of her hot wet pussy bobbing time and again against my face, and I thrilled to the knowledge that she was enjoying the same sensations with mine. I could not have told you how long this went on, as I was lost in the intense sensations at both ends of my body until I was deliciously aware of Irene's orgasm. She screeched loudly enough to make me glad we had kept the windows shut against the rain, and the intense joy she radiated pulled me over the side as well. I gripped at her hips and planted one long last kiss as far into her vagina as my tongue could reach as I felt the climax wash over me.

"I think that was our loveliest time to date," Irene said as we cuddled under the quilt a few minutes later, caressing one another's breasts to prolong the afterglow.

"Quite," I agreed. "Such a shame that we would only come to be so good at it on our last encounter."

"Let's not think like that!" Irene said. "We've shared this beautiful experience. That is all that matters."

"And to think I was ever so concerned that the lovely times were over," I said. "Silly of me, wasn't that?" And then it occurred to me. "Good heavens, Irene, do you realize we haven't talked about Elizabeth all evening?"

"Why should we?" Irene said. "She's off on her honeymoon. There is no need for us to concern ourselves with her for now."

"That's exactly it!" I said with a relieved smile. "Here I've been worried that everything is over now that she and Jonathan are married, and in fact I've been out living my life and having a lovely time and never even thinking of her! Such a relief, of sorts."

"Of sorts?" Irene asked with scepticism. "Agnes, you are a grown woman with your own life. Elizabeth set a great example for us, but why on earth would you expect your life to come to a halt just because she has moved on with hers?"

"Excellent question, Irene," I conceded. "I am rather embarrassed to hear it put like that."

"There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Agnes," she reassured me, taking me in a fond embrace and laying her head on my breast. "But there is also no reason to fear anything is over and done with just because your friend got married."

I nodded and murmured my agreement, and soon thereafter I was asleep in Irene's arms.

Had I only known what Elizabeth was up to aboard the ship, it would have put to rest any concerns of mine that life with her would be less spicy now that she was married.

Among its many luxuries, the ship had a swimming pool on the upper deck. Elizabeth had, for the first day aboard, admired the placid warm water from a distance; but the many young women in their stylish bathing suits had inspired a most uncharacteristic bout of self-doubt that had prevented her from joining them. Nearly all the ladies our age or younger - or even a bit older, it seemed - were wearing the scandalously high cut suits that were all the rage for the first time in those days, and which Elizabeth could not wear without causing a scandal of a different sort entirely. Even after all those years as the belle of the baths, she mused sadly as she observed, fully clothed, from just beyond the pool patio, it seemed there would always be a subtle reminder that she was different in a most inconvenient way. Though none of the ladies - or the men - took any notice of Elizabeth, the simple fact of their easy camaraderie in and around the water brought a troubling flashback to her days of being made to feel thoroughly disgusting due to her unique natural beauty.

That night, though, the melancholy had passed and she and Jonathan had made love in their cabin. The naughty thrill of his knowing fingers exploring her intimate forest of curls restored her self-confidence, and the next morning in the dazzling mid-ocean sun, she resolved to enjoy a turn in the water. "I'm surprised you didn't think of that sooner," Jonathan noted when he returned from the water closet to find Elizabeth putting on her bathing suit, the same very modest one I had had occasion to see her in at the seaside the summer before.

"I did think of it sooner," Elizabeth said. "But I confess, I feel ridiculously dowdy in this suit anymore. Terribly overdressed for a swim, especially in comparison to most of the other young women out there. But..." She pulled the suit's skirt up, and Jonathan was treated to the sight of her wild undergrowth encroaching upon the fabric on both sides. "Just imagine the reaction I would get in a suit like they're all wearing!"

"I know what my reaction would be," Jonathan told her, taking her in a reassuring hug. "And it's not like you to care if that bothers anyone. Quite the contrary, if it comes to that!"

"You've got to remember, Jonathan, we're not in Westfordshire now. We cannot count on everyone being so open minded as they are there."

"Sad but true," Jonathan conceded. "But I anticipate you will find a way to inspire a great deal of open mindedness at the pool today."

He was correct, as any of Elizabeth's friends back home would surely have predicted. Nevertheless, upon her arrival at the pool, Elizabeth felt positively old-fashioned in comparison to the other women her age who were frolicking about in so much less. A few of them greeted her with a nod or a smile, which she returned as she slipped into the shallow end of the pool. The water was warm and rejuvenating, and already she could have kicked herself for denying herself such a pleasure the day before! She swam several laps, drawing little attention from the half dozen or so more scantily clad passengers who were lounging around the pool drinking their morning tea; evidently none of them had any interest in using the pool for its intended purpose.

Her morning exercises done, Elizabeth stood in the shallow end and, with a sigh of contentment, she waded down to the level where her shoulders were even with the ledge, and leaned back against it to soak up the sun. She did not need to look down to know that her skirt was billowing up and out the way it always did when she stood still in the water, revealing her lovely secret to anyone bold enough to look down. She reminded herself, as she had done time and again on the way up from their cabin, that most others would likely take notice at all; and most who did notice would likely approve; and most who didn't approve would surely be polite enough to say nothing.

There was no immediate reaction to her exhibition, but of course Elizabeth felt the same thrill of pleasant embarrassment she always felt when someone - particularly a man - saw her most beautiful secret for the first time. This did nothing to mar her enjoyment of the pleasant moment, or to inspire her to make any effort to hide her stray pubes. (There was, of course, nothing she could do save get out of the water!) Most of the others continued about their business of sipping tea and lounging on the dry deck; a couple of the other women finally followed her lead and got in for a swim. Both greeted Elizabeth wordlessly with a smile and a nod. One of them, she was nearly certain, saw under her skirt, for she looked back up at Elizabeth with a concerned expression on her face, which turned to bemusement as she took in Elizabeth's knowing grin in response and realized she was comfortable with the situation. Both friends then set about swimming, and neither of them commented.

It was only after that minor victory that Elizabeth noticed the young man lying prone on the reclining deck chair near the shallow end. Whereas the young woman had offered no conclusive proof that she had taken notice of Elizabeth's secret, there could be no doubting the handsome stranger had noticed. He was gazing at Elizabeth when she first took note of him, and one deliciously awkward moment later he looked up and made eye contact with her. With a contrite look he tore his gaze away, then just as quickly looked back and mouthed the words "I'm sorry."

Elizabeth responded with a laugh and a nod and, of course, no effort to hide anything. She did not look away or rescind her welcoming smile, and after a moment the young man could see there were no hard feelings. After another awkward pause, he stood up - revealing a bulge in his swimming trunks that did not surprise Elizabeth in the least - and meandered around to her side of the pool.

"Madam, I'm dreadfully sorry I gawked at you the way I did," he said, slipping gingerly into the water beside her. "I had no right, of course."

"No apologies necessary, my friend," Elizabeth reassured him. "I know full well what shows, and it is nothing I am ashamed of." She extended her hand. "My name is Elizabeth."

"And mine's Ronald," the young man said. "Ronald who is most charmed to meet such a free spirited young woman, if you don't mind my saying so!"

"Why on earth would I mind?" Elizabeth said. "It is such compliments that give me the confidence to be so unapologetic about my body, after all."

"Wow...well, thank you for that, then!" Ronald said, and he splashed around playfully, doing his best to look only in her eyes but clearly losing the battle. Elizabeth did not begrudge this, for she was also observing his own poorly-kept secret under the waterline. His chest was broad and mostly hairless like Jonathan's and he was carefully groomed in every way Elizabeth could see - exactly the sort of young man she would have welcomed in her bed before she met Jonathan - and she drank in his admiration gratefully. "So," he asked, "are you touring on your own?"