“OK, so it's hours until dinner and hot enough to fry an egg on the sundeck. You wanna change and go hit the pool?” he inquired. “Um, sure. Sounds good. Just give me a few minutes to get ready,” Emma replied. He nodded and closed the door as he left the room. Emma stood frozen for a moment, suddenly realizing that in all of her packing and unpacking, the only bathing suit that made it into her bag was that little scrap of string fabric. She took three deep breaths and then presented herself with an ultimatum: go for it or hide away like a coward. Emma never was much for cowering away, so she opened the drawer and pulled out the bikini. She put it on, threw a cover-up over top and left her room. She was resolved not to fret about the issue again. Emma met Michael in the living room, dressed in swim shorts and a casual, form-fitting V-neck T-shirt. “Wow, he looks incredibly hot,” Emma thought to herself when she saw him, and then mentally shook herself. They headed out the door and down to the pool area where other passengers had begun to congregate to beat the heat. Emma was beginning to perspire from the heat on the short walk to the pool and couldn't wait for the coolness of the water to soothe her heated skin.
When they arrived, they placed their gear at a pair of chairs near the pool. Emma grabbed the hem of her cover-up and slipped it off over her head in one swift movement. Michael wasn't expecting it; he'd seen her at the beach before in a full, one-piece swimsuit, so nothing could have prepared him for this. Her toned ass was barely concealed by the bikini and the scraps of fabric covering her tits did little more than hide her nipples. He gritted his teeth against the arousal coursing through his veins, trying to force back a hard-on that would be apparent to every onlooker—and there were a lot of people looking on since Emma ditched the cover-up. She bent to lay it with her other belongings, and the sight of her barely-covered pussy nearly did him in. Fortunately, she walked over to the pool and dove in without a word, giving Michael a moment to recover before joining her in the pool. She swam up next to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her tits hard against his chest. “Oh God, that feels so much better, don't you think?” Emma asked as Michael's arms moved to wrap around her waist impulsively. Thank God she couldn't see his hard cock hidden beneath the water. Her eyes moved to his and stayed locked there for a moment. “Yeah, Em. It does,” Michael replied huskily, and Emma was certain there was a double inuenndo in his response. She let go of him and pushed back slightly, caught off guard by the arousal she'd begun to experience in response to Michael.
The swim continued in somewhat awkward silence. When Emma exited the pool, Michael tried to turn away but he couldn't tear his eyes off her. He had to watch the water drip down her body; past her neck, over her tits, down her stomach to disappear in the top of her bikini bottoms. “Lucky water,” he commented drolly. Once she'd put on the cover-up, Michael left the pool and made his way over to her. He grabbed a towel and dried off as Emma watched his sinewy muscles flex and relax as he worked. She was so turned on, she could feel herself getting wet at the sight of him. It was definitely time to put a little space between them. Emma feigned a tired spell and retired to their suite. It turned out that she was more tired than she had thought, and within moments of laying down on her bed she was fast asleep, dreaming of an incredibly sexy best friend and all the things he could do to her body.
Michael knocked and opened her door a while later. “So, dinner will be served in about half an hour if you want to get ready, Em,” he announced. “Thanks,” she replied sleepily as a blush spread across her cheeks remembering the dream she was woken from. Emma had expected Michael to leave to get himself ready for this evening, but he stood there uncomfortably for a moment. “Michael, is there anything else?” she inquired. “Um, actually, I got you something, Em.” “You went shopping already?” she teased. He brought his hand out from where it had been concealed clutching a garment bag behind his back. “Here. I thought you'd like it.” Emma was uncomfortable, but took the bag and laid it down on the bed to unzip. Inside she found a cream-colored, floor-length gown. It looked like something worn by a Greek goddess with a single shoulder strap made from satin cord. “Oh, Michael, it's beautiful...but I can’t.” “Yes, you can, Em. And you can always make me take it back tomorrow,” he reasoned. Emma didn't know that he'd bought the dress the day she agreed to the cruise, nor did she know about the three-thousand dollar price tag he'd removed right away.
She nodded, thanked him and smiled a little impishly. Michael left the room, closing the door behind him. Emma instantly stripped off her clothes and began sliding on the fabric masterpiece. The neckline sat low, just barely covering the tops of her nipples, and the satin cord from the shoulder came down to wrap beneath her bust line. The long skirt was slit all the way to the top of her thigh on one side, making her feel incredibly sexy as her bare flesh peeked out with every step. She glanced in the full-length mirror on her wall and was taken aback by the image reflected back to her. She had always known she was pretty, but this woman was absolutely exquisite. She combed out her waves and that was it--the natural hairstyle complemented the gown--and walked out into the living room to wait for Michael. He was already there, dressed in a navy blue suit that accentuated his muscular breadth. And he couldn't keep his jaw from dropping the moment she walked in. Emma was instantly aware of his heated gaze, hot enough to burn a hole through her dress. She blushed and fidgeted with the gown. “Um, are you ready, Michael?” she asked uncomfortably. “Of course,” he replied, trying to relax. He offered his arm and escorted Emma to the dining room two floors down.
Once seated, Emma tried to forget about how Michael's arm had felt against hers, the sizzle that ran through her body in response to his contact. Looking at the table in front of her, she noticed the waiter filling glasses with white wine and she grabbed her glass quickly once it was full. She downed the liquid, trying to soothe her frayed nerves. It had been years since Emma had even a glass of wine and she had no idea that it would go straight to her head. Her extremities began to tingle gently after a moment, and she felt calmer. Not incapacitated, just calmer. The meal arrived a few minutes later. More accustomed to her own hurried home-cooking or local restaurant cuisine, the food on her plate tasted like a gastronomical masterpiece. She enjoyed every bite—and a second glass of wine—while engaging in polite conversation with other guests at the table, all of whom couldn't help but stare in awe at the grecian goddess sitting across from them.
When dinner was done, Emma and Michael headed back to their suite. It had been a long—hard--day for Michael and he was looking forward to the blessed respite of sleep. It wasn't until about half way there that Michael noticed Emma's unusual sway as she walked, almost slightly off-balance. And then he remembered the glasses of wine she'd downed during dinner, and how he'd never seen her drink before tonight. He wondered what had prompted her to indulge this evening. He was still wondering when they reached their suite, but upon entering the living room, Michael turned his thoughts to slumber. Until Emma turned to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you for this evening, Michael,” and she kissed his lips gently. She had only meant it as a friendly kiss of appreciation, but the result was cataclysmic. The relaxing effect of the wine and the feel of Michael's lips erased the relationship boundaries that had existed between them, and there was suddenly a sexy, virile, incredible man standing before her. “Oh my God,” she whispered in awe. Emma couldn't help but be taken back by what she hadn't seen all these years. “Michael?” she knew exactly what she wanted, and was confused at the same time.
Michael could read the heated look in her eyes, but for a moment he was certain he was imagining it. All these years of wanting her, and she had never hinted toward feeling the same. But when she said his name and leaned closer against his body, he was done for. He knew Emma hadn't had enough to drink to impair her judgement, it could only have relaxed any inhibitions that interfered with what she really wanted. And in that moment, it seemed he was what Emma wanted. His lips came down on hers hard as he pulled h
er against his body. She didn't resist; her arms wrapped tighter around Michael's neck as she moaned against his mouth. She could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against her stomach, sending arousal coursing through her body and settling in her pussy to make her soaking wet. She wanted more. Her hands moved from his neck and trailed along his muscled chest. The feel of his muscles flexing beneath her fingers made her sopping wet cunt ache. Michael seemed to know what she was feeling; he moved one leg in between hers to press against her heated flesh and she moaned in response. “Oh God, Michael. I want you,” she whispered in his ear.
It took every ounce of strength he had not to fuck her right then and there, but he didn't want it over with too soon. He put his hands on her hips, stood back just a few inches and reached for the zipper beneath Emma's arm. He lowered the zipper and slid the satin cord off her shoulder. The dress should have fallen to the floor, but Emma caught it before it exposed her nipples. Michael entwined his fingers with hers and pulled gently to let the dress fall. She had worn nothing beneath the gown, leaving Emma bare to his view. He reached for her tits—he couldn't help himself—and he cupped them in his hands, running his thumbs back and forth across her nipples. She moaned louder. “Lay down, Em,” and Michael guided her down to the plush carpet beneath them. He tossed his jacket, ripped off his shirt and shucked his pants as fast as he could as he stared down at the sensual, naked form before him. He knelt down between her legs and spread her lips with his fingers before plunging two fingers inside her wet cunt. He moved slowly at first, increasing his speed as her body began to writhe in pleasure. He withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips to taste her. But it wasn't enough. He leaned forward to taste her from the source but Emma squeezed her knees closed before he could reach his goal. It puzzled him, but he would think more on it later. For now, he had waited long enough.
He had longed to thrust deep inside her for so long. He moved forward along her body and Emma relaxed her legs, letting him cover her with his body. He bent down to kiss her when he reached her mouth and lined up his cock with her pussy. As his tongue plunged into her mouth, he thrust forward into her cunt. He remained still for a moment, giving Emma's body a chance to adjust to his girth and then withdrew from her slowly. Before the head of his cock left the heat of her pussy, he thrust forward once again, plunging deeper and making Emma cry out in pleasure. He maintained his slow speed for as long as he could, but her pussy sheathing him made him ecstatic with arousal. His speed increased and he reached a finger in between them and made contact with her clit. He rubbed fast, wanting to see her cum with his cock deep inside her. It only took a moment. Emma moaned loudly and writhed beneath Michael as she began to cum. The spasms of her orgasm sent him over the edge. He bucked forward as his own orgasm rocked his body, cumming deep inside her pussy.
Michael collapsed beside Emma and wrapped his arms around her. She remembered laying against his chest for no more than a minute or two before drifting off to sleep right there on the floor. Michael didn't want to move; the feel of Emma pressed against him in the aftermath of sex was the most decadent, peaceful feeling he'd ever known; it was where she was meant to be. But, her hesitancies came to mind as he listened to her steady breathing. He wasn't sure what to make of them at first; was she uncomfortable with him, or was she uncomfortable with sex? He knew in everything else, Emma gave everything she had; she loved with everything she had; worked as hard as she could; and was loyal to a fault. But in sex he could feel that she was holding back. The idea didn't worry Michael at all. It simply presented a challenge: could he help Emma let go and embrace the incredibly sensual siren he knew was lurking beneath whatever was holding her back? She had helped him become a better person in so many ways over the past several years. Could he do this for her? He contemplated what approach he might take, and drifted off to sleep as a deliciously sinful way of introducing Emma to her carnal side came to mind.
Emma awoke still wrapped in Michael's arms. Her first response was to press closer, but seconds later her eyes flew open and her mind reeled with the memories of what took place just a few hours prior. She forced herself to remain calm and carefully extricated herself from Michael's hold on her. She tiptoed to her bedroom, shut the door quietly and dove beneath the covers on her bed. What had she been thinking, she wondered incredulously. But, slowly she began to realize that what happened between her and Michael hadn't been a mistake. She wasn't sure exactly when she had begun to see him as something more than a friend; perhaps she had felt this way all along, but given their beginning couldn't see what was right in front of her. It was incredible sex, the best she had ever had, but she knew that Michael was far more experienced in that department. And she remembered her moments of awkwardness last night. She hadn't been certain she wanted Michael to see her naked—how could she measure up to the string of gorgeous women he dated. And when he had moved his mouth between her legs, she had panicked. It wasn't something she'd experienced often; Adam had made one lone trip down there, but never again—apparently it was only something one did when destroying a relationship. She had assumed that he didn't enjoy the activity until she found him enthusiastically engaged in oral sex with another woman. Emma reasoned that it must have been her who made the activity unappealing. Adam had made her uncomfortable and insecure with a great deal of sex; always complaining about one aspect or another. But this was Michael—not Adam. Frustrated, she forced herself to abandon the subject for the time being, and focused on relaxation exercises to squeeze in a few more hours of sleep.
Michael rolled to wrap his arm around Emma, but when all he found was the plush carpet, he opened his eyes to find her gone. “Damn!” he cursed. He had been looking forward to waking up with her in his arms, and it hadn't crossed his mind that she'd leave before he awoke. Since that was the end of his restful slumber, he stood and stretched, his naked form flexing away the last vestiges of sleep. And then he remembered the plan that had begun to take shape in his mind the night before. It was pure evil by some standards, and certainly not the most orthodox method of helping a person get in touch with their sexual side. But, nobody would ever accuse him of having an orthodox mentality. If he had to encourage Emma to walk on the wild side to awaken her sexuality, so be it. No other man in his right mind would consider such a plan, but perhaps he wasn't in his right mind. On that thought, he headed for the shower to get cleaned up and ready for a—hopefully—wild ride.
Michael intended to meet up with Emma before they left their suite for breakfast, but after a quick knock on her door, he opened it to find her gone. Uncertainty flashed through his mind for a brief moment, but he was absolutely certain about what he'd seen in her eyes last night. Emma might have been skittish this morning, but she was also a perpetual morning riser. She was likely out on the deck somewhere sorting through her feelings. Michael headed out the door, but before he went in search of Emma, he had one other stop he had to make.
Emma was leaning against the railing, watching the waves pass beneath the ship as it glided forward through the water. Michael recognized her instantly and came up behind her, placing his hands on her hips gently. “Good morning, beautiful,” he leaned close to whisper in her ear huskily. Emma blushed lightly, but returned his greeting warmly. “I know you're probably wondering about last night,” she started, sure that she wanted to get how she felt out in the open. If Michael didn't feel the same way, then so be it. But, he was still her best friend, and she wouldn't leave him in the dark. “I don't know how to explain it. At first this morning I thought that maybe it was the wine... I haven't had any in a very long time, you know?” she continued, recognizing she was rambling a little. “The point is, Michael, I don't regret it. I don't know when it happened, or where we go from here...if you want it to go anywhere...but as for me, I do want it to go somewhere,” she concluded, recognizing that it was not the most eloquent of speeches—it had definitely sounded better in her head. “I want it to go somewhere, too, Em,” he added, wrapping his arms aro
und her waist from behind. “And you've been honest with me, so I want to be open with you,” he continued. “Last night was incredible, Em. The most amazing experience I've ever had. But, you seemed so uncomfortable with me. Is it too weird being with me? Or is it something else?” he asked forthrightly.
Oh, she hadn't expected that. Was her discomfort with sex that obvious? “Oh Michael, it's not you. It really isn't. It's me. You know that I'm not the most...experienced in sex. And, well, with other men, it was different. Like Adam...” she began to explain as Michael gritted his teeth as a rush of anger coursed through him at the mention of the prick who had hurt her. “He wasn't really into...well, me, I suppose. He complained a lot, about things I should do better, and things he didn't want to do with me,” she continued a little uneasy now. “And it seems I have that same effect on others, too. Well, you remember Dean, right?” “For fuck's sake, Em! What kind of scum do you keep hooking up with?” Michael cursed, not angry with Emma but at the assholes who were so fucked up that they couldn't see what an amazing woman they had...and look what they had done. This woman before him should have been the most cocky, confident bitch he knew; models would envy Emma's natural beauty, they could hope only to emulate it with makeup and magic tricks. And yet she was uncomfortable taking her clothes off in front of the man who would worship her body.
He was grateful for the relationship they had already established, he was sure that was why it was easier for Emma to talk so openly with him. And he knew that if she would just let go and dive in, she'd be free to enjoy every one of the pleasures that sex could provide. “Emma, you need to let go of all that. They were pricks, and that's it. You need to let loose and let your primitive side out. You need to do something you've never done before, and might never consider doing ever again. And I want to be a part of that. It's not going to be easy, Em. But will you trust me? My methods aren't always the most orthodox, but years of success have taught me that when you dare to try the most unconventional, you'll be met with the most reward,” Michael explained. Emma didn't know what he was talking about. “Sure, Michael. I trust you.” She figured that was a safe enough answer. Michael kissed the back of her neck softly. “I have some stuff to take care of today. You relax, and I'll see you after dinner,” he told her and then left to put his plan into motion. Emma was rather perplexed; it seemed odd to go on vacation, and then spend the day busy with obligations. But, she didn't see any point in thinking about it further, so with one last look at the ocean, she turned and headed for breakfast.
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