Caribbean Cruise
Copyright ©
2005
By Lee Mariner
This
story is about gay men and will contain homosexual acts that some may
find
offensive. If you are not of legal age, in your locality, and you
do find
this type of material offensive, please leave.
All events, names, and places are fictional and there is no intended
relationship
between the events of this story and/or any person or place.
This story has been edited by my friend,
Dean, and I am grateful for his assistance.
This story is copyrighted © by the author and it is not to be
reproduced in any
form or posted on any web site without the specific written consent of
the
author. It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the terms of
their
submission guidelines for posting.
All stories I have written can be found in the Nifty Archives listing
of
Prolific Author's or by following:
prolific.html#leemariner
Readers wishing to be notified of postings to this or any other story,
may
contact me at:
§
Chapter #1
The East Coast from New England to
Florida
was covered with dark clouds and heavy intermittent rain showers; but
the
gleaming white hull of the "Queen of the Seas" towered over
it's fun seeking passengers, promising excitement and adventure.
The excitement
was infectious, but an occasional flash of lightening followed by
rolling
thunder caused some fun seekers to cringe and glance anxiously up at
the sullen
skies. I must admit that I'm not fond of storms; but I had been
planning
my mini vacation for some months now, ever since shortly after the
nasty break-up of my
relationship
with Geoff; and I wasn't about to let Mother Nature interfere.
Calypso music was blaring from the public address speakers in an
attempt to
distract passengers from the slow movement of the security lines.
There
was a single wide aisle that had been cordoned off with retractable web
belts
to form two lanes. People were carrying or pulling luggage of
every possible
description toward a central area where four metal detectors were
located. Some people
may have considered it organized mass confusion, but I couldn't
help
thinking that whoever was in charge of security had to be a
mentally
deficient optimist to think that three thousand passengers could
be expected to
filter
through only four metal detectors and be on board by the published
sailing
time of four o'clock this afternoon.
"Oh well, Caine, there isn't much you can do about bureaucracy except
buckle up and go with the flow," I said to myself. I was
struggling to
maintain a modicum
of composure while suffering the inane chatter of adolescent girls and
boys,
all of whom seemed to be bent on talking at the same time without pause
for
breath. As if that were not enough, the incessant squalling of
children whom parents seemed wont to bring with them on a shipboard
vacation was threatening to overload my nervous system.
My dark mood was not improved by the security guards' insisting on
using a
detection wand before and after I had walked through the detection grid
gateway and
then by having to wait for my luggage to pass a perfunctory inspection
even after it had
passed through the x-ray machine. "At this rate, we will
never
sail this afternoon," I grumbled under my breath.
"Oh yes, we will, Sir. We will have you on board, and underway
before you know it," some pimply faced kid wearing an oversized
security guard uniform said in an attempt to make me feel better but
with only marginal success.
"I wouldn't make book on it," I growled as he walked away full of his
own self-importance.
§
Getting
through the check-in area after the security check was a breeze
compared to the chaos I had just gone through.
Several
tables had been set up inside a large, obviously temporary, building
while a
permanent terminal was under construction. There were
two
women at each table checking tickets and identification against a
master list
and giving each adult passenger a magnetic card that served as a key
to their
stateroom. Since cash was not used on board except in the
casino,
the card also served as a shipboard credit card that would debit any
purchases
directly to whatever credit card company or bank that was used.
The weather hadn't improved during the time I was checking in; and
there was a
mob of people milling around at the foot of the twin gangways all
trying to get themselves, their luggage and, in many cases, their
excited children onboard at the
same
time.
Two large doors in the side of the ship had been opened, and wide
double
gangways had
been laid between the ship and the dock. The ship's
security
personnel and the ship's photographers were at the end of the gangways
taking pictures of
passengers
as they came on board. The photographs were taken for
identification purposes to insure that only passengers that went ashore
in ports, that were scheduled for short stop overs, returned. As
passengers stepped off of the gangway they were informed by the
photographers that those pictures, and subsequent pictures taken by
roving ship
board photographers would be available in the ship's photo shop for
purchase as mementos of the cruise.
There were several young men and women
milling
around in a large open area just beyond the security check
point.
As soon as pictures had been taken and tickets with stateroom numbers
were
verified, these young people would offer their assistance with luggage
and offer to escort passengers to their staterooms.
After my picture had been taken and my ticket verified, I stepped to
the side of the gangway
with my rollaway
luggage to get my bearings. Groups of passengers, some
holding
impatient
children's hands or being overly protective of their
luggage, were trying
to talk with crew members, several of whom seemed to speak fairly
understandable
English.
On a far wall of the compartment we were in, there was a sign with an
arrow
pointing to the left that read "passenger staterooms." I had
shifted the handle of my suitcase into my left hand, intent on making
my way
through the milling mob of people and crew members, when I felt fingers
touch
my wrist followed by a well modulated and masculine voice saying,
"May I
help you to your stateroom, Sir?"
"Why...why, yes, you may," I stammered somewhat taken aback by the
unexpected offer of assistance but without relinquishing my grip on
the
handle of my suitcase until I saw who was offering the
assistance.
Looking quickly to my left, I saw a young, twenty something, crew
member
smiling
at me. He was maybe an inch or so shorter than my five foot
eleven inches;
and he may have weighed about the same as I did, approximately one
hundred and
seventy pounds; but, from the fit of his uniform tunic and trousers, I
could see
that it was
muscle that constituted his weight not fat and bone.
His deep-set blue green eyes were the color of the Aegean Sea; his full
sensual
lips glistened, and his unruly shock of platinum blonde hair gleamed
silver in
the harsh light from the overhead florescent light fixtures. I
didn't
realize the mesmerizing effect he had on me until I heard him
asking, "Your bag and your ticket, Sir?"
"Oh...,oh yes, yes," I managed to stammer. Thoroughly
embarrassed, I relinquished the
handle of my suitcase and handed him my ticket, as
I mumbled, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."
"That's quite all right, Sir," he said, smiling as he took the ticket
folder from my hand. A feeling of instant warmth flooded over me
when our
fingers touched, and the blue green of his eyes seemed to change to a
deep jade
green when he looked into mine and asked, "Is this your first cruise,
Sir?"
"Yes, it is....," I answered, hesitating at not knowing his
name.
"Petrik, Sir," he said smiling softly, and indicating a name badge
that was pinned on his tunic over the left pectoral muscle.
"It's nice meeting you..., Petrik," I replied; breathing in deeply,
still feeling shaky.
"It's my pleasure, Sir; and since this is your first cruise I'll...
err...we'll have to see that you enjoy yourself as much as
possible while you are with
us," he said quickly, attempting to cover his slip of the tongue.
"Will you follow me please?"
I felt a tingling in my groin and my cock starting to harden as I
followed
Petrik. His bubble butt moved enticingly as he deftly wove his
way though
the press of the crowd, leading me to a bank of elevators.
§
"Your
stateroom is on the Upper Deck, Mr. Ward, number 6303," Petrik said
glancing at my ticket as he depressed the elevator button for the
corresponding deck number. "Your stateroom is in my
section, I'll be one
of
your stateroom attendants during the trip," he said quietly, turning to
look at me as the doors closed, the green of his eyes deepening
slightly.
"For the entire cruise, Petrik?" I asked.
"Oh, no, not all of the time," he answered, looking at me,
and laughing
melodically, his eyes twinkling. "My duty hours are usually from
noon until eight in the evening unless someone is unable to perform
their
duties; the rest of the time I am free."
"I hope the staterooms are as comfortable as the brochures say they
are,"
I replied, changing the subject in an attempt to suppress the swelling
of my
cock.
"I am sure you will find it more than comfortable, Sir," he answered,
smiling brilliantly, his perfectly even white teeth flashing.
"The
shower may be a little small for a man of your size; but I think you
will
find it
adequate," he said, unabashedly letting his gaze drift over my frame.
"It shouldn't be too bad for seven nights," I replied, returning his
gaze.
"I'm sure you will find it more than comfortable, Mr. Ward," he replied
softy, smiling as the doors
slid open, his brilliant green eyes briefly glancing down at the
bulge in my crotch.
§
I followed Petrik down a thickly carpeted, indirectly lighted corridor. The walls were a sea green color, and the ceiling was white. Numbered doors were on both sides, and it seemed as if we had walked half the ship's length before we reached my stateroom.
<>§
The
stateroom was small but not uncomfortable, except for the twin
beds.
"There should be a little more room after they are converted to a
queen," I mused to myself as I started unpacking and putting my things
into the built-in drawers under the counter. I hung the two
suits,
extra slacks, a light jacket and my raincoat
in one of
the two closets and stowed the suitcase in the other where a life
jacket was
hanging.
I wasn't really planning on wearing suits since this was supposed to be
a fun
cruise,
but the brochure had indicated informal clothing for breakfast and
lunch was
acceptable while semi-formal wear was required for dinner.
The bathroom was as small as Petrik had said; the wall over the face
basin was
mirrored, and I was surprised to see that the shower was not like those
that
most people would be used to. Instead of having a framework, the
shower
curtain was attached to the ceiling on a track that closed around a
floor
drain. Hand held burnished stainless steel attachments were
fixed
to the wall with small brass placards over the knobs, in different
languages, indicating cold or hot water. I couldn't help grinning
when I also saw a color code button on each knob,
red for hot water and blue for cold.
Fixing myself a drink from the variety of beverages on the counter, I
stepped out onto the small balcony and looked over the
side.
Mobs of people were still boarding. Looking at my
wristwatch, I
shook my head pessimistically musing, "They'll never make the sailing
time."
§
I
spent the rest of the afternoon, until departure, walking around the
ship, getting
thoroughly
confused. Petrik was right in that by using the ship's deck plan
and by
asking
several
scurrying, but very polite crew members, I could locate where I was in
relation to
my stateroom.
The Ledo Deck was the fun place for
families. There were two swimming
pools, one for adults and one with water slides for children young and
old. There were hot spas, open deck space for sunbathing and bars
for
those who wanted to experiment with exotic tropical drinks or just
plain
bourbon, vodka or gin drinks.
I opted for bourbon on the rocks and found a small out of the way
table where
I could watch the madhouse as well as the young men strutting around,
some with
girls and others who may or may not have been alone.
There were one or two healthy looking hunks sitting at the bar that I
had just left, who looked as if they
wouldn't
object to being approached, but my thoughts were on Petrik, and I was
glad
that I had on loose fitting shorts to hide the results of my lecherous
thoughts.
It wasn't long before the din of unsupervised kids running and
hollering with
glee at each new discovery was starting to get on my nerves.
Finishing my
drink, I checked the deck plan and decided to locate the Deep Sea
Casino, for which I had set an amount of money that I was willing to
lose, and
Poseidon's Way,
where the
duty free shops would be.
The Promenade Deck was located three decks down and I was becoming
acclimated
to using the same elevators that Petrik and I had used.
People
doing the same thing as I was milled around looking into the windows of
the
closed shops. The Casino was roped off with signs posted
indicating
that it
would open later in the evening, at approximately nine o'clock.
The
overhead lights were extinguished, but the banks of slot machines
flashed every
color in the rainbow. There were a variety of blackjack,
chuck-a-luck
dice, roulette tables and one large dice table. It was a mini Las
Vegas
waiting to take the unwary merry-maker's money.
§
After
strolling around, I returned to my stateroom and went out on the small
balcony.
The stream of people had been reduced to a few latecomers. The
center
doors that Petrik had said were being used for taking on supplies had
been
closed, and I could see several men standing in readiness to cast off
the ship's
mooring
lines from the huge bollards. Just as I was checking the time, a
long
shrill blast of the ships whistle pierced the air; and I cringed,
clapping my
hands over my ears. "Damn," I thought, that'll wake the dead.
Surprisingly enough, the lines were cast off at exactly four-thirty,
and I
watched as we slowly drifted away from the cement landing dock.
The water roiled from the turning of the ship's propellers, kicking up
huge
clouds
of mud
from the river bottom; and, as a precursor to what I hoped was going to
be a
pleasant cruise, the sun emerged from the overhanging clouds.
It seemed as if the ship had turned around in it's own length, and we
were
heading down river toward the ocean. It was still three hours
before
dinner, and I had decided to try out the shower when an announcement
came over
the ship's public address system that a safety drill would be conducted
in
fifteen minutes. We were to don the life jackets that were in our
staterooms and check the safety regulations posted on stateroom doors
for the
locations of the lifeboats which we would use in the unlikely
event
that
they would be required.
I liked the diplomatic way the announcer had of telling everyone which
lifeboat to use in the "unlikely" event we had to abandon ship.
Needless to say, it was complete chaos when the drill was held. It was
amazing
that everyone found the locations they had been assigned to.
Children
were babbling with excitement; parents were doing their best to quiet
their
charges and don lifejackets. I felt a charge of excitement
when I
saw Petrik trying to calm people down and assist them with their
lifejackets.
When he saw me struggling with the tangled mess of straps, his eyes lit
up for
a moment; and, grinning, he moved toward me saying, "Let me help you
with
that, Mr. Ward."
"Be my guest, Petrik," I replied. "We didn't have
lifejackets like this when I was in the navy."
"They can be difficult if you aren't used to them," he said, moving
closer and placing my lifejacket around my neck.
I detected the faint aroma of musk cologne as his arms went around my
neck
while he adjusted the head support. My cock responded immediately to
his
closeness; and he seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking intently
into
my eyes,
before
tightening the waist straps.
Breathing in deeply, I brushed my hand over his as if testing the strap
quick
release mechanism; and he grinned as he squatted to show me the
straps that were attached at the bottom of the life jacket, saying,
"These go between
your legs."
Spreading my legs, and leaning over slightly to watch him, I steeled
myself as he reached between my legs for the straps. His face was
only
inches from the growing bulge in my groin. He pulled the straps
through
and positioned them on either side of my balls. I felt streaks of
fire
rushing through me as he covertly adjusted my balls, and it took all of
my will
power to avoid groaning at the sensuous feeling of his fingers gently
touching
them as he seemed to linger while adjusting the straps.
Standing and gazing into my eyes for a brief moment, he pulled the
straps
through the rings on either side of the lifejacket. "You have to
be
careful with those," he said in a teasing whisper as he glanced down at
his
handiwork. The tight straps may have a purpose, but at that
moment
they
only served to accentuate the hardness of my cock, and the twinkle in
his green
eyes made the fire burning in my loins all the fiercer.
Petrik moved away and stood behind one of the ship's officers who was
introducing himself
as being the leader of
our group. He apologized for the inconvenience of the drill,
explaining
that it was a requirement of the Coast Guard. I was only half
listening
to what he was saying; my eyes were fastened on the slight bulge
stretching
down the left leg of Petrik's white deck pants. When he saw me
looking,
he turned almost imperceptibly toward me, a soft smile on his face and
his
eyes
shining invitingly.
I quickly averted my eyes for a moment, embarrassed at being caught
looking. When
I looked at him again, he had moved to the left of the officer who was
finishing
his instructions just as an announcement was made over the speaker
system concluding the drill
with a
string of apologies.
Everyone was making a mad rush for the doors; but I held back loosening
the
straps and trying to avoid the mass of passengers when I heard from
behind me,
"If you leave the leg straps loose and don't undo them completely , it
will be easier to put on if we have
another drill, and it won't be as uncomfortable between your legs."
"What? Oh yeah," I said turning my head and seeing Petrik.
"I guess it would at that," I replied, grinning a bit mischievously.
The green of his eyes deepened for a moment, and I had the urge to tell
him how
beautiful they were when he spoke.
"Is your stateroom comfortable?" he asked as we moved with the crowd.
"Except for the beds," I answered.
"I'll take care of that," he replied, laughing softly.
"Did you try the shower?"
"I was about to take a shower when they started this nonsense," I
replied, chuckling at the quick change of subject. "I think it will be
all
right though."
"They are small, but two could take a shower together," he said,
lurching against me when someone pushed him from behind.
"I'm afraid I won't have the opportunity to find that out, at least not
on
this cruise," I replied, my muscles tingling from the feeling of his
hard
muscled body pressed momentarily against me; and I wondered, hopefully,
whether he
was making a suggestion or a casual remark.
"Seven days is a long time at sea," he replied in an almost seductive
tone, his eyes twinkling as he
turned down a corridor away from the elevators.
§
The
elevator was packed, and even though they moved quickly between
decks, I
was almost gasping for breath by the time we reached the Upper
Deck. It
was a long walk to my stateroom, made even longer this time by the
horde of
passengers jostling each other as they searched for the doors to their
cabins. I breathed a sigh of relief when my door closed behind
me.
There was a glossy card lying on the small table in front of the couch
where
none had been before. "It looks like not everyone was at the
drill," I mused to myself as I picked it up. It was a listing of
the
various services with phone numbers. One of the numbers listed
was for
bar service.
"I could use another drink," I said to myself, dialing the number.
A polite female voice answered, asking if she could be of
service.
"Yes," I replied. "Could I have a double Jack Daniels and
tonic with a lime twist delivered to cabin 6303?"
"Yes, Sir, will there be anything else?" The female voice asked.
"Not unless you can bring a bottle with extra tonic water and limes,"
I replied, jokingly. "The short snorter that was in my room
when I boarded didn't last very long."
"I am sorry, Sir," she answered politely. "We don't provide that
service, but you will find the duty free package store on the
Poseidon
Deck."
"Thanks," I said, making a mental note to pick up a bottle after
dinner. There were no prices indicated on any of the various
service
cards, but I was pretty sure buying a bottle would be less expensive
than
ordering individual drinks.
My cock was still half hard from the covert interplay with Petrik, and
even
though I
tried cold water in the shower; it didn't help; my nuts needed
relief. I
hadn't needed to jerk off so badly when Geoff and I were together,
except when
he was in one of his moods. I had gotten used to his playing
around on
the side, but Molly Palm and her Five Sisters were a poor substitute
when I
felt the need to make love with him. At that particular time,
under the
warm water of the shower, I wasn't thinking about Geoff for the thought
of sex with
Petrik filled
me with a desire to blow my load; and I fantasized what he would look
like
naked as I stroked my throbbing cock, recalling the gentle, almost
teasing
way, he had touched my balls while adjusting my lifejacket's leg
straps.
"Oh, Christ," I moaned, my muscles tensing at the intense feeling of
cum rising and exploding with pent up force against the wall of the
shower. "Jesus, Jesus," I murmured to myself, shuddering with
desire and thinking of his tight ass as I milked the last dribbles of
cum from
my wilting cock. "Whew," I said out loud feeling a little weak in
the legs as I ran my foot over
the floor of the shower, helping the thinning creamy white sperm flow
into the floor
drain wondering how many other loads mine would mingle with in the
ship's holding tanks.
I had almost finished drying off when there was a light tap on the
door.
Grabbing my robe from the hook and putting it on, I looped the belt
loosely;
and, thinking it might be Petrik, I opened the door. A
dark
haired, attractive young lady stood outside the door holding a tray
with
the
drink I had ordered. Her dark brown eyes widened for a moment at
seeing
me wearing a robe; and then she grinned saying, "Your drink, Sir."
"I'm...I'm sorry," I stammered. "I don't usually answer
the door wearing a robe. Petrik the young man who escorted me to
my room
said he would be the steward, and I was expecting him.
"I'm sorry, Sir," she replied, the hint of a smile playing at the
corners of her lips. "Petrik is one of the room
stewards, Sir. Where would you like me to put this?"
"Set it on the counter, please," I replied trying to sound nonchalant
as I stood aside so she could enter.
"Yes, Sir," she replied softly as she entered.
"Do you know Petrik?" I asked quickly closing the door after she had
entered.
"Only as part of the crew, Sir," she answered as she sat the glasses
and bottles on the counter and turned. "I believe he is from
Macedonia. He works in a different department from mine, but we
occasionally see each other in the crew's dining room."
"Macedonia?" I mused casually.
"Yes, Sir. There are over fifty-eight countries represented in
the crew," she answered, extending a card and pencil. "If there
is nothing else, would you sign for your order?"
"Sign?" I replied. "Don't I pay you now?" I said forgetting
that cash was accepted only in the casino.
"No, Sir," she answered. "They should have explained when you
boarded that cash is accepted only in the
casino. All other purchases are charged to the account that was
set up
when you boarded."
"Oh..., I had forgotten that," I answered, reaching for the plastic
card that was among my
boarding papers. "And that's what this is for."
"Yes, Sir. It is used just like a regular credit card, and it can
be used at the cashier cages in the casino if you need additional
cash."
"That makes it convenient," I replied as I signed the card and handed
it to her.
"Thank you, Sir. Will there be anything else?" she said as she
handed me the receipt.
"Not right now, and I am sorry if I embarrassed you when I opened the
door," I said.
"Not at all, Sir," she answered as she left.
§
The
Atlantic dining room was as impressive in decor as the other public
areas of
the "Queen of the Seas." It had large windows looking out over
the
ocean, and the tables were covered with snowy white table cloths with
crystal and silver settings.
The
walls were done in Art-Deco style with frolicking mermaids and sea
nymphs
complemented by a dark blue carpet. There were waiters and
waitresses
stationed though out the room, smartly dressed in uniforms that matched
the
pastel shades of mocha, blue and green used in the wall murals and
upholstery of the chairs and booths.
I wasn't really sure what the proper dress would be; so I had dressed
in
a
casual sports ensemble of dark blue slacks, light blue shirt with
matching tie,
and a blue seersucker jacket. It was a relief to see the other
passengers
dressed as casually as I was, although there were a few dressed in
shorts and
Hawaiian sports shirts.
"That is just a little too casual for dinner," I thought to myself as a
very handsome and
obviously Nordic young man approached and asked,
"Will
you be dining alone, Sir, or are you waiting for friends?"
"Alone," I replied, unable to avoid a picture of Petrik flashing
through my mind as I noticed the golden sheen of his well groomed hair
combined with the ice blue of his eyes.
He stood the same height as I; and, from the way his pastel blue and
white
uniform fit, it was more than obvious that he was extremely well
built.
Again the picture of Petrik flashed through my head as I inadvertently
allowed
my gaze to absorb this young man's masculine beauty.
"Could I have your seating card, Sir?" he asked smiling, but not
hiding the appreciation I could tell he felt from my not too covert
appraisal.
"Yes," I replied, breathing in deeply before continuing.
"I believe that I have been assigned to a seat with one of the groups,
but I'm not sure where."
Our fingertips touched briefly as he took the card; and, for a moment,
his eyes
did not waver from mine until he stepped back and glanced down at the
card
before
checking it against the computer screen on a computer monitor sitting
on the
podium.
"You have been assigned to table 22A, Mr. Ward. That is one of
the
tables that we use for passengers traveling alone; or," he said
hesitating
for a moment, " if you prefer, you might like sitting at the singles
bar."
Glancing around the fast filling dining room, I could see that most of
the
tables were occupied by middle-aged to elderly people with children of
various
ages. I didn't mind children for the most part; but I hadn't
taken the
cruise to be annoyed by their ceaseless chatter in close proximity to
where I would be sitting, or, for that matter, the chatter of their
parents.
"I think that I would rather have my dinner at the bar if it is no
problem, Karl," I said, glancing at the name tag on his tunic and
noticing
that his country of origin was Norway.
"I thought you might, Mr. Ward," he replied, smiling.
"I'll change the seating assignment in the computer and issue a new
card."
With a few deft movements of his slender fingers, he made the change
and printed a new
card.
"I see you have an outboard stateroom on the Upper Deck. They are
much more comfortable than the inboard staterooms, and I'm sure you
will enjoy
the cruise especially with the balcony. They are a little small; but
it's nice
to be able to enjoy the warm evening breezes as the ship proceeds
south," he said, his even white teeth
flashing as he smiled and gestured to one of the waiters standing just
out of
earshot. "Mr. Ward will be dining at the bar, Andreas."
"Yes, Sir," another handsome dark headed young man said as he stepped
forward and took my seating card from Karl. "If you will follow
me,
Sir."
"God," I thought as I followed this Adonis through the maze of
tables. "Are all of the crew men as tantalizingly handsome?"
The singles bar was a large oval that accommodated diners in much the
same
manner as many of the old fashioned roadside diners that had at one
time been
scattered along the highways before the advent of high-speed
interstate
highways. The bar was only a little wider than those of diners
that I had occasionally frequented when traveling, and there was
more of an over hang allowing more legroom than those with
limited
access where the patron's legs were sprawled open in order to be
closer. Instead
of small round stools, the seats were of armchair quality with thickly
padded
seats, high backs and armrests. There were several people
already
seated,
and many of them did not seem to be singles. Their demeanor and
ages
indicated they might have been newly weds or dating couples who
probably did
not want to be involved with strangers.
I couldn't help but grin to myself as I recalled one of the phrases in
the
travel brochure, "Where old friends meet again and new friends are
made." From the way one young couple was engaged in
conversation another millimeter or two closer to each other and they
would have been kissing
instead
of talking.
Andreas had pulled my seat back, and as I reached him he extended my
seating card
saying, "Enjoy your dinner, Mr. Ward."
"Thanks, Andreas, I'm sure I will," I replied taking the card from him
as I sat down, trying to be casual as I watched him move away.
§
The
dinner menu was extensive with several appetizing entree
selections. I
wasn't feeling especially hungry; but a dinner of roast loin of pork,
buttered
red potatoes with a vegetable medley whetted my appetite; and I placed
my order
with a petite young waitress, adding a small bottle of chilled Merlot
wine.
No one else was seated within two or three seats of me at the dinner
bar, and
I enjoyed dining in
solitude
amused by the antics of one young couple sitting on the far
side.
Their food sat uneaten, and memories of when Geoff and I had first met
flashed
though my mind. We had acted much the same way at Maxine's of
Philadelphia, a gay restaurant famous for its French cuisine and
intimate atmosphere.
It had been a turbulent four years marred by Geoff's penchant for
"strange stuff." Arguments and pleading only led to further
forays; and, after one particularly nasty scene when I caught him in
bed
with a
supposed friend, we both realized that it would be a sham to continue.
His final act of stripping our apartment of the major pieces we had
bought and
leaving for New York City while I was away at work in my office didn't
help soften
the
blow, and I resolved never to let it happen again.
I didn't realize how far I had sunk into the bitter well of reverie
until I
heard, "Is everything all right, Mr. Ward?"
"What..., oh yes," I said, suppressing a stammer of surprise when I
turned and saw Karl standing at my elbow.
"I'm glad to hear that," he said, with a concerned tone in his voice.
"I couldn't help but notice the look on your face, and I
thought that perhaps there was something wrong with your dinner."
"Oh no, it was excellent, Karl. I was just mulling over in my
mind whether I wanted to try my luck at the casino tonight or just rest
in my stateroom and wait
until
tomorrow."
"That is a difficult decision, especially on a cruise; but I'm sure
you
will have plenty of time for both," he said softly, his deep blue eyes
twinkling.
"I am sure I will, and it has been a long day; therefore, I think I'll
see
about
some liquid refreshment, and then snuggle up in my stateroom with one
of the
books I
brought along."
"Good idea," he replied. "That would be my choice, but I don't
have the luxury or privacy of a stateroom. The crew quarters can
be
a bit
hectic and noisy at times, especially at change of shifts. You
will find
the
Promenade Deck, where the duty free shops are located, two decks up
using the
elevator; or you can walk forward and use the stairway just past the
photo
shops."
"Thanks," I said as I slid off of the seat asking, " What
time will breakfast be served?"
"From seven o'clock until ten-thirty. There are no seating
assignments for breakfast, so that gives you plenty of time unless you
had
rather have breakfast in your stateroom as many of the passengers do,
especially those without children."
"You can do that?" I asked.
"Oh yes, if you would prefer it," he answered. "Place a
call to the dining service from your in-ship phone, and they will
arrange
it."
"That sounds a little too ritzy for me, Karl. I think I'll stick
with
the dining room."
"Good, I'll look for you then; and I am sure we will be able to find a
quiet place away from more boisterous tables," he replied, his face
brightening as
he moved away.
§
The
elevators would probably have been quicker, but I opted for the walk in
the
direction
that Karl had indicated figuring it would help settle my dinner.
I didn't
seem to be alone in my thinking as there were any number of passengers
strolling
along in the same direction, some arm in arm and others pleading
with
their offspring to behave.
There was a large ship's library, open for the use of passengers who
might want to read a book or magazine, and two
photo
shops crammed with the pictures that had been taken as the ship was
boarded. There was a small bar located between the dual stairways
leading
up to the Promenade deck. I was tempted to stop for a drink
when I
noticed several seemingly unattached young men sitting at the bar
gazing into
the contents of their glasses or making small talk with a companion or
making the acquaintance of another passenger.
"Maybe later," I sighed to myself unable to remember when I had
passed up the chance to make an attempt to meet and possibly seduce a
young man such as those sitting at the bar.
The shops located on the Promenade Deck were full of shoppers, and the
liquor store had a
mind-boggling
selection of liquors and wines. It took only a few seconds to
locate a bottle of
Jack Daniels and pay for it with the shipboard credit
card.
Just as I was about to leave the shop, a young lady stopped me and
said,
"I'm sorry, Sir. We will have to deliver your purchase.
Passengers
aren't permitted to carry spirits on board ship."
"I'm sorry, I didn't know that, " I replied.
"Most people don't, Sir," she responded, smiling brightly. "If
you will give me your stateroom number, it will be delivered shortly."
"Number 6303 on the Upper Deck," I said, handing her the bottle.
"Thank you, Sir."
"How long is shortly?" I asked.
"Probably within half an hour if you are going to be there?" she said
looking at me questioningly.
"That's where I was headed when you stopped me," I answered.
"I was looking forward to a drink and to relaxing before going to bed."
"I'll be sure to have it there in plenty of time, Sir," she replied
cheerfully as she turned and walked back inside the liquor shop.
"Good," I mumbled to myself.
Glancing at my wristwatch as I walked to the elevators, I remembered
Petrik had
said he would have the bed changed before his shift was over; and it
was
already past eight o'clock.
"Maybe he will still be there," I thought, quickening my pace.
§