Stranger Things Happen at Sea

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I would like to thank the 20,000 or so of you who have taken time to view my last work, "Estelle's Awakening". I am truly humbled by it. To those of you who thought it good enough for you to add to your favourites, I would like to thank you too. I also would like to thank the three people who commented on the work and to apologise for my sloppiness when proofreading it. I promise it won't happen again. I re-read it through once it had been published and noticed the huge "clangers" that I had made.

This latest work is an adaptation of three separate works on a similar theme.

"Muriel" is based on a true event that happened to me many years ago, but still remains in my memory.

I met "Helen and Barbara" back in the 1990's and although the threesome is fiction, I did bed the "Helen" character in real life.

The "Diana and Vivian" story is pure fiction, based on two very attractive mature woman I once observed while on vacation.

All names have been fictionalised.

*****

Part One: Muriel

So...I was looking head-on at this penis and thinking, "It's a big one. Far bigger than I have ever seen before. Even my husband's cock doesn't look like this big."

I was wondering if I could take it all. It looked as though it could split me in half and from the angle I was viewing it, it could definitely have taken an eye out or two.

I guessed it to be about eight inches long and about two inches thick. Long veins ran along either side and the head was a large purple mushroom. There was some sticky, clear liquid oozing from it's tip and I was tempted to lick it off. But I couldn't quite bring myself to touch it.

But, Oh God! what was he doing with his tongue in my nether regions?

How did I get myself into this predicament? Maybe I should explain a little...

I have been married to Bert for almost forty years and in all that time, the thought of being unfaithful never entered my head. We'd had a decent love life until about six years ago. We would have sex, two or three times a week. In our earlier years, he was like a rat up a drain pipe and would shag me at any chance he had. I was bending over the bath once, washing my hair, when I felt him come up behind me and slip his cock inside. Imagine that, hair and eyes full of soap and suddenly I feel his intrusion.

I guess you could say that we were happy.

But about six years ago, it all stopped.

He stopped making advances towards me and he refrained from making any kind of naughty suggestions, which would have often lead to wild and abandoned love making. Most importantly, we stopped having sex. In fact he stopped giving me any kind of attention at all.

I became a frustrated housewife. A frustrated 58 year old housewife. I know that I am not the most beautiful looking woman on our street, but I have a kind heart and under normal circumstances, I am a loyal wife. I am a mother too, but our two children have long since flown the nest and have families of their own.

Most importantly, I am a woman with a woman's needs that need to be satisfied.

I relayed my plight to my best friend and confidant, Edna. She suggested that I start an affair to make my husband jealous and to understand what he was missing.

I told Edna that I couldn't do that to Bert.

"Why not just suggest it to him?" she asked. "Just to see his reaction."

I told her that I would think about it. Then Edna suggested I bought myself a vibrator.

"I wouldn't know where to start using one of those," I replied, slightly embarrassed.

"Of course you know," she answered. "You switch it on and shove up your fanny!"

Buying one was more difficult than using it.

So many types to choose from and the shop assistant, who was a pretty young thing, smiled when I asked her which type would suit me. She sold me something called "The Rabbit". She suggested that for starters I tried to use it on its lowest setting, until I got used to it. She was very open and rather graphically descriptive about how to use it. When I got home, I went straight upstairs and put the box into the cupboard on my nightstand. I waited for Bert to work his shift and then I went back upstairs to the bedroom. I opened the box and pulled out the vibrator.

Holding it in front of me, I was astounded by its size. It didn't seem that big on the front of the box. I put the batteries in and turned it on. There was slight humming coming from the vibrator and I saw what the girl in the shop called "The Little Tongue" vibrating away like crazy.

I switch it off. Could I really use this thing?

The shop assistant had also suggested I buy a water based lubricant to make it easier to insert the vibrator. I undid my trousers and placed them over the end of the bed. Then I pulled off my white woolen sweater and placed that neatly over the end of the bed too. After unhooking my bra, I tossed it over the end of the bed, closely followed by my white cotton panties. I think I must have already been a little excited about what kind of pleasure this new toy could bring, because I noticed there was a damp patch in the gusset of the panties and when I ran my hand over my hair covered labia, it too was moist.

I climbed onto my bed and lay there with my legs apart.

Like I said, the shop assistant was helpful and although she may have been a little too graphical in her descriptions, I did listen and take it all in.

She suggested that to "get me in the mood", I should switch on the vibrator and rub it over my body, to get the feel of it. She suggested that running it over my breasts and nipples was a good start. So that is what I did.

Bloody hell! Those vibrations ran straight through my body, from my nipples to my toes and created ripples through my vagina. These were pleasant feelings, if somewhat odd too, as I wasn't used to them. I continued to rub my nipples with the vibrator for about fifteen minutes. I could feel that the vibrations were having an effect of me. I could feel my vagina opening up and my juices beginning to flow.

Slowly I moved my toy towards my abdomen and the vibrations became more intense. I rubbed the tip of the vibrator along my now soaking slit. Over clitoral hood and downwards. Every muscle went tense in my body as my toy sent crazy messages to my brain. Slowly I slid it gently into my vagina. The sensation was wonderful. I didn't need the lubrication. I was so wet that the vibrator slid in and out with ease.

I turned up the intensity of the vibrations using the knob at the base of my power tool. My whole body began vibrating.

By accident, I switched on the "Little Tongue" and it touched my clitoris. The explosion it caused in me was amazing. I thought that I would pass out from it. In the all the forty years that I had been married to Bert, not once had he made me come like that. In fact, while I think about it, most of the time, he didn't make me come at all. This little power tool, that I held in my hand, had caused me to spray my juices across the duvet cover.

I didn't care though. It had been the best orgasm of my life.

During the following two hours, I made myself come time and time again.

I lost count as to how many. But it was enough to puzzle Bert as to why I seemed so happy when he came home, from work.

After that day, whenever I was feeling tense or frustrated, I turned to my "little friend" and all my cares went away.

At least for while.

A vibrator is a good stop gap, but it doesn't replace the feeling of a good, hard cock inside you and it wasn't long before I was feeling frustrated again.

Edna came around for coffee one day and announced that she and two of the girls from Bingo were planning a boat trip to Amsterdam and would I be interested.

"It would be only for the weekend," she said. "Friday, Saturday and back on Sunday. I'm sure Bert can look after himself."

I thought about it for a moment and decided to take her offer.

Bert wasn't happy about it, but he let me go all the same.

As it turned out, the ship left port on a Saturday evening, had a layover in Holland on Sunday and returned Monday, to be back in port on Tuesday morning.

Our day in Amsterdam was as you might expect.

We tried space cookies in a coffee shop and came over all giggly. We visited the Red Light Area and did some "window shopping". Edna even told us that she fancied trying on the outfit, that one of the hookers was wearing.. If you saw Edna, you would understand why we all pissed ourselves laughing. She stands about five foot three and is about the same around her middle. Yes. Okay, I am exaggerating. But she is a large woman. In fact, none of us housewives would have ever passed for Slimmer Of The Year. We aren't overweight or anything like that and we don't possess the figures of our youth, but we certainly didn't have the figure of the hooker behind the glass, who was dressed in a red, lacy bra that showed her naked nipples, crotchless panties and a suspender belt of the same red, lacy material.

"You'd have your Eric running for the hills, if you dressed up for him like that," remarked Beryl, one of our foursome.

The fourth member of our group, who we nicknamed "The Quiet One" on account of her having much to say about anything, was called Joyce. We suddenly noticed that Joyce wasn't with us. We found her about half a block up the street, standing mouth open, staring into the window of a sex shop.

We all knew that mousy little Joyce had led a sheltered life. The price one pays for being a preacher's daughter, I suppose. She had been married longer then any of us. Her husband, whilst not an ordained priest, was attached to the church in a serious way and almost every waking moment he had was spent there in some capacity or other. She made no secret of the fact that in her 60 years, she had only had sex once. Her son Raymond was the result.

I thought I was frustrated.

So there was Joyce, mouth gaping.

When we caught up with her, she pointed at the window and said, "What on earth would you do with a thing a like that?"

We all turned to see what she was looking at.

Hanging by a thread, in the middle of the window display was a fake arm. As long as a human arm, with its fist clenched. Beryl and Edna knew what it was for and Beryl was about to bestow her knowledge upon poor, innocent Joyce, but Edna stopped her in the nick of time. I took Edna aside and asked.

"Well," she whispered. "Some women like to have it shoved up their fannies, and sometimes they like it shoved up their bottoms too!"

I looked at her, my mouth open in silent disbelief. Then I winced at the thought. Okay, woman's vagina stretches to accommodate a baby being born, so it stands to reason that it could accommodate something like a hand going up it. But up your bum!?

Edna suggested that we should go and see a sex show. Joyce said no way was she setting foot in one of those places and wanted to go back to the ship. Beryl decided to go with her. Which left Edna and I to see the show.

I can't really tell you whether the sex was simulated or not, but it did look realistic.

The show was choreographed like a ballet. It was made to look like two people who had come home from a night out. There was small stage upon which was makeshift set, made to look like someone's living room. They danced their way across set, disrobing as they went. After he removed her underwear, she flopped onto a sofa bed, naked. He then ripped off his shirt and trousers, literally. You could hear the Velcro tear.

He knelt in front of the couch and from where we were seated, I could see his erection. He was huge and hard. Edna remarked that she would have loved to get her hands around something like that. His body was completely hairless, as was hers. I noticed as he tore her underwear from her body, her vulva was completely hairless. As he knelt between her legs, he started to lick her vagina. Then they changed positions and he was kneeling above her. She was licking his scrotum and testicles, while he masturbated. He then fell forward and his head disappeared between her thighs. They writhed and moved together, in time to the music and I noticed the volume had dropped so that we could hear her moans as he brought her to orgasm. They changed position again and she climbed astride him and began to ride him. As she bounced up and down on his erection, her pert little breasts swung and bounced. Once again we heard her moan as he brought her to orgasm before finally grunting and groaning himself.

Then the light went dark, everybody applauded and when the lights came back on, the couple had left the stage.

We made our way back to the ship and on the shuttle bus, I confided in Edna that if the chance arose for me to get a man before we reached home port, I was going to take it.

Edna assured me that neither of the other two would know. We both knew that Beryl was a blabbermouth and the thought of me committing adultery would appall Joyce.

After arriving at the ship, we went to the cabin we shared, to freshen up for dinner. As Edna put her make up on, I took a shower. As I removed my panties, I noticed how wet I was. I was feeling incredibly turned on and knew I needed to do something about it. I had never in all the years of knowing Edna suggested the two of us should do anything kinky together and I wasn't about to start now. We had shared fantasies and secrets, but I knew where Edna drew the line. So I thought for a moment. I was standing naked in the bathroom, trying to come up with a suitable way to take care of a one hell of an itch. Then I saw it. The shower head had three settings and one of them was a pulse massage.

Smiling wickedly to myself, I turned on the shower, waited for the water to heat up and stepped under the warm cascading spray. I squeezed a large handful of shower gel into my hand and started to wash my hair first. Then I moved my hands along my body and over my ample breasts and was surprised to find my nipples quite hard and erect. I ran my hands over them and felt a tingle in my vagina. I took them between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and massaged them. The feeling was delicious and I could hear my breath becoming labored. I grabbed the shower head from its cradle and turned it to the massage setting. The spray of the water jets altered to a rapid fire pulse. I crouched into the center of the shower tray, with my legs apart. My pussy was open and my labia were thick and pouting. The hardened nub of my clitoris was poking out from under its hood and I aimed the pulsating water at it. I almost shouted out aloud when the first pulse hit my clitoris. I fought the feeling to aim the shower head away from my body and pointed the water at my open pussy. Slowly unmistakable the feeling of my impending orgasm began to build, as the pulsating water washed along my open slit. Some of the water splashed up against my anus, which only served to enhance the moment. As the warm, pulsating, water jets hit my clitoris again, I was pushed over the edge and a huge orgasmic torrent washed over me, causing me to almost lose my balance.

I came out of the shower, replenished and ready to meet the evening head on.

As I opened the bathroom door, Edna said, with a wink, "Sounded like you had a good one."

I knew immediately that she wasn't referring to the shower, so I replied, "You can't beat a good pulse every now and again."

The ship had two restaurants, a buffet and an à la carte. It also had two bars. One of which was a large bar with a band playing dance music. The other was a little more intimate and had a guitar troubadour playing. We four ladies elected to go there after dinner.

As we chatted around a table, I noticed the troubadour was winking at me.

He looked quite handsome, which made me wonder why he was winking at me. Every now and then I would catch his eye and he would wink at me. At first I thought he was just having fun with me, but this went on all all the night. If he was trying to attract and hold my attention, he had succeeded.

By midnight, Joyce and Beryl decided to call it a night and went to bed.

I leaned over to Edna and said, "I think the guitarist is interested in me, though Lord knows why."

"How can you be sure?" she asked, trying to look over her shoulder.

"Because, he's been winking at me all night," I replied. "I think I might have pulled."

Edna looked sternly at me. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

" I don't know about it being what I want, but it's certainly what I need,"I replied.

He announced that he was finishing and disappeared behind the bar to switch on some bar music.

When he came back into the room, I got up from the table and walked over to him. Edna joined me.

I asked him if he would pose with me for a photograph and gave my camera to Edna. He obliged and put his arm around my shoulder and he stood next to me.

Edna took the picture and as she put the camera in her bag, I asked him, "What are you going to do now then?"

He started to pack his music in a rucksack and replied, "Well, normally I head to my cabin and get a shower. Then I grab a bite to eat and finish up in my cabin to watch TV."

Brazenly I asked, "Would you prefer a bit of company to the TV, instead?"

He stopped what he was doing, looked at me and smiled.

"Yeah," he answered. "Why not."

He went on to tell me that under the rules of the ship, he was not allowed to openly invite guests to his cabin, but if I was to stop by unexpectedly, fifteen minutes after he had left, then that was different. He gave me his room number, finished packing and left the bar, carrying his guitar case and rucksack.

I have to admit that I didn't know my way around the ship all that well and although I wanted to let the least amount of people as possible know, I had to ask the night security guard how to get to the troubadour's cabin. I didn't tell the guard whose cabin it was, but he was just as obliging and even escorted me to the corridor.

I found the cabin and when I was sure that the guard had gone back to the reception, I knocked on the door.

When the door opened, the troubadour was standing in front of me in a white t shirt and a pair of close fitting, black boxer shorts.

He beckoned me inside.

We sat on his bed. I put my arm around him and my head on his shoulder.

"I have to let you know," I said. "I am married. I've been married for almost 30 years. He ignores me most of the time and as for sex, it's all but disappeared from our lives. I told him that if he didn't buck his ideas up, I would end up having an affair. But I've never done this before."

He assured me that he would take care of me and treat me with tenderness.

"What do we do first then?" I asked.

"Wow, you are out of practice aren't you," he replied, smiling.

"When we first were courting, there was none of this kind of hanky-panky you know," I said. "We held hands and it was a quick peck at the bus stop when we were going home."

"We could always start with a kiss," he replied.

"Yes," I answered. "A kiss an' a cuddle would be nice."

Our lips met tenderly and my mouth opened to receive his tongue. When it slipped between my lips, I latched onto it and sucked hard on it. He moaned loudly in my mouth. I loosened my hold on his tongue and we broke from the kiss.

I put my head on his shoulder and looked down. I could see his erection poking out from the material of his boxers and I ran my fingertip over the bulge it made.

"This looks interesting," I said.

He said, "I think we should get you out of these clothes."

I pulled off my sweater to reveal a white lacy bra. I felt him unhook the clasp at the back and it fell from my shoulders. I shrugged the garment off and threw it onto the floor.

He reached out and touched one of my breasts, causing me to shudder in delight. It had been so long since a man had touched my breasts in this manner.