Cancelled Tour Turns Into Cruise Sexscapade

I've never been one to dwell on missed opportunities. Though there was that one traffic jam on I-95 that caused me to be so late as to miss a party entirely, only to learn from my friend ("friend" being a colloquialism for "former professional tennis player who I would hook up with and screw joyfully back when I was on the ladies tour during those select weeks during the year when the men and women were at the same tournaments") told me afterward that a certain male celebrity with whom he was chatting saw my photo on his phone when he texted me to ask where I was, liked my smile, and they got talking, and had I gotten there a hook up with Mr. Celebrity was a sure thing. 

 

Not that I didn't find another man to fill my needs that night. But to have missed out on one of the actors who portrayed a certain comic book super hero in one (or maybe more than one, I should look that up) of the movie adaptations, well shucks, that seemed like an opportunity missed. Holy what might have been, Batman! Oops, no I didn't mean that the actor played Batman, um, no, it might have been any superhero. And is Batman really a superhero? He's mortal, no special powers, like Iron Man, it's all the suit.

 

And I'm totally not saying if the actor has an Oscar or not. Or is going to be a father of twins. Not that it matters because I didn't make it to the party. Damn it! Of all the parties to miss!

 

But I don't look back in regret. Much. 

 

So when there was recently a big late season snow storm ( it was all over the TV, surely you heard about it) caused me to cancel a trip to Connecticut, instead of dwelling on the rich, well-educated white men with nice cocks, nice cars, nice clothes, nice gift envelopes for me and the world’s best pizza in New Haven that I wasn't going to get to enjoy, I just moved on and had to find someone else, er, I mean someTHING else to do for a weekend.

 

I'd just finished using my favorite toy in myself, my body coming down from that amazing, sweaty, slightly musky, earthy-scented orgasmic state of being where I go when I cum, when I put the missed CT trip together with other travel issues in my mind.

 

A lot of travelers up there missed a lot of trips.

 

Those no-shows meant there were some great vacancies to be had.

 

And there's a dear friend of mine here in SoFla with a major cruise line with whom I do yoga who would know which fabulous suites might just have been cancelled. After the cancellation deadline so no refund, the cruise line keeps the money. Hope the snowed in guys and gals bought the insurance, this is why they sell it. But this friend explained to me once during a threesome with an amazingly sexy cruise ship dancer (like how I slipped that in there? Like how my friend slipped his tongue into me when I was tasting the dancer...I didn't say if the dancer was male or female, did I? *wink!) that the cruise lines hate empty cabins even when they're paid for because then no one buys drinks, or spa treatments, or excursions, or overpriced photos or buys... well those shipboard sales are the profit margin. 

 

So I texted Mr. Cruise Line Tongue and asked if he had any way to get me into a paid for suite so that I could buy drinks, go to the spa, book a rain forest tour, and who knows, maybe share the suite and my body with him. 

 

So let me tell you about these two story suites overlooking the ocean and a high dive show they do at the back of the ship. Love the views. Love the concierge service. Usually prefer traveling in a much more exclusive manner, but this was thrilling for the sheer mercenary opportunism it represented. And on a huge ship, I mean, it had parks with trees, a zip line, a skating rink, hot tubs hanging over the side so we could look straight down into the ocean...well, lots of anonymity to be found lost among six thousand guests. 

 

And a fuck buddy who loves to share me who got me into the suite gratis and suddenly used some personal days to join me and who knew a handful of the sexy dancers on that ship and did you realize they don't perform every day which means they've got personal time which means....

 

I still didn't tell you if the dancers whose lean, toned, flexible, yummy fuckable bodies who my friend knew were men or women, did I? No, I didn't. I love teasing. But not as much as I love the actual sex. 

 

Or as much as I love what one dancer's tongue is doing to my smooth hairless kitty while another dancer moans while pulling my hair as I suck that dancer's nipple (still can't tell if these are men or women, all you guys whose nipples I've enjoyed know what I'm talking about!) all while I tap out this story of unexpected ship-board sex with a cruise line fuck buddy, dancers of an undisclosed gender, and that lucky passenger from Atlanta who made it to the ship but his married lover from Binghamton, NY got snowed in so she had to take one for the team and stay home and actually fuck her husband while Mr. Atlanta moped on board, sent the requisite fake email to his mistress to make it appear that there really was a girls trip she was supposed to have gone on but for the snow. 

 

 

Yup. Met him in the steam room. I flashed him because he looked sad, and then he told me his story of a missed opportunity. I took pity on him, explained that I never look back on missed opportunity and then invited him to our mini orgy in the duplex suite.  And I'm tapping out this blog story in the midst of the nude revelry.

 

The ship also makes profit on shipboard condom sales. Never paid so much for a box in my life! Scolded my friend for his company profiting from people's fundamental need for sex, until he shot me a glance and I remembered that I'm Dolly and we laughed.

 

So I guess this make it up as we go along, impromptu sex romp on the high seas shows that you should never regret a missed opportunity because there's now a chance for something unexpected to be your new thrill. 

 

But OH WHY DID I HAVE TO MISS THAT PARTY BECAUSE OF THE TRAFFIC ON I-95!  Again I'm not naming names, but sheesh, I would have totally mambo Italiano'd all over his sexy ass for one fine day, we might have defied gravity, maybe I could have invited him to join the ten people in my stateroom orgy and we'd have made it an ocean eleven, all while I fantasized that if he wasn't wearing a condom he could breed me and then my child would be one of his descendants, oy, what a missed opportunity, what can I say except good night and good luck, oh brother where art thou...

 

Ahem. Anyway, no regrets, and now that I've had a cruise ship captain take me from behind while wearing his dress white uniform jacket and one of the ship's sexy skaters is using her mouth on both the captain and me--see, in not a total tease. I told you which gender the skater was. 

 

Final thought...think I could be one of those women in the Viagra single packs commercials? Are they gorgeous and alluring or what? All easily over 30, hurray for women of a certain age! And maybe that certain actor will see the commercial and recognize me from my friend's phone at the party and realize that HE's the one who missed out. Which simply meant I got to share my body with some other lucky man.

 

So come visit me in SoFla and find out what that movie star missed out on. As soon as I get back from this cruise, that is. Was it wrong for me to moan, "yes, yes, fuck me Captain Steubing!"

 

THE END

Purely fictional fantasy for your reading pleasure!

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