


Cruising Amish

by slyc_willie



Category: Group Sex
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-04-25 02:34:04
Chapters: 1
Publisher: literotica.com
Story URL: https://www.literotica.com/s/cruising-amish
Author URL:
https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=748325&page=submissions
Summary: A honeymooning Amish couple make new friends.
Erotica Tags: Amish, Anal, Blonde, Cruise, Gay, Honeymoon, Lesbian, Oral Sex,
Public, Ship
Average Rating: 4.55






        Cruising Amish


_(Author's note: the following story came about as a friendly challenge
between myself and sr71plt. We went with the same basic theme -- an Amish
couple going on a honeymoon cruise -- but diverged significantly from there.
Keep in mind as you are reading this tale that it is as much about group sex
as it is about gay male sex. If sex between men turns you off, this may not be
the story for you. Please also accept that I did my research for this story,
and despite popular belief otherwise, the Amish can indeed go on cruises.
Enjoy the story.)_  
  
* * * *  
  
Standing before the assembled crowd of their two families within his father's
home, Abel gazed upon his wife with a confused mixture of emotions. _My wife_,
he thought. _Why does that sound so strange?_  
  
She smiled back, petite and lovely in her new, handcrafted blue dress. Blonde
hair so fine and fair flowed back from her face, framed in a bonnet and
braided down her back. She was as beautiful as he remembered from two years
before, when he had left on his Rumspringa. Even more so, now that she had
grown from a waifish child to a grown woman of marriageable age.  
  
_So much has happened in these two years_, he mused.  
  
"&lt;Now we are husband and wife,&gt;" she said in Pennsylvania Deutsch, a
sparkle in her pale blue eyes. "&lt;I will make you a proud father.&gt;"  
  
"&lt;And I will make you a dutiful mother.&gt;" They kissed, turned to their
families, and the ceremony was over. The wives and mothers of the community
bustled about to prepare for dinner, and Ilse joined them to fulfill her part,
after another quick kiss for her new husband.  
  
"&lt;I have to say I am glad you returned,&gt;" said Abel's father as he
stepped up beside his son. "&lt;You took longer on your running around than
any of your brothers.&gt;"  
  
Abel blushed slightly. "&lt;As did you, according to Mother.&gt;"  
  
The Petermann patriarch smiled. "&lt;Very true. We are both seventh sons of
seventh sons. Strange and wondrous things happen in our lives. Sometimes, it
takes a bit of extra thought to sort them out.&gt;"  
  
Abel dipped his head, recalling fragments of recent memories. "&lt;How right
you are, Father.&gt;"  
  
The older man laughed, clutching his son's shoulder. "&lt;I have no wish to
hear about your adventures. Your time in the outside world was for you alone.
That is, until now.&gt;"  
  
Abel frowned, a twinge of worry blossoming in his chest. _What does he know of
my Rumspringa?_  
  
But his father handed him a large envelope with a wink. "&lt;I think it
fitting that you and your lovely new wife should have some time together, away
from the community, before beginning your life here.&gt;"  
  
Abel hesitantly opened the envelope, finding glossy slips of paper within that
showed images of a very large cruise ship and some of it's finer attractions.
Beyond that were two tickets. He looked upon them with bewilderment for a
moment before the reality of the gift dawned upon him. "A cruise?" he asked,
unintentionally slipping back into English.  
  
"&lt;Yes, a cruise. To the Bahamas, no less. Give you two a little bit of sun
before you come back home. You'll take a train tomorrow to Pittsburgh, and a
plane from there to Miami. And then you'll have seven days at sea.&gt;"  
  
Abel smiled awkwardly. "&lt;I don't know what to say, Father. Thank you.&gt;"  
  
His father grinned. "&lt;Thank me with grandchildren.&gt;"  
  
* * * *  
  
Ilse had been quietly ecstatic when Abel gave her the news. He showed her the
tickets as they lay in bed, recovering from their first union as husband and
wife. The pot-belly stove in the corner blazed, filling the room with warmth
and casting flickering, amber fingers across their naked bodies.  
  
"I can't believe we're going on a cruise," Ilse said, beaming. "After all that
time you spent outside, and now he's sending you back out there."  
  
"Us," Abel corrected, kissing Ilse's cheek.  
  
She smiled at him. "Us," she repeated.  
  
* * * *  
  
Thomas set the large, handcrafted bag on the ground beside Abel. All around
them, the stench and boisterousness of the city was an oppressive thing, and
the airport was even more so. Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, although there
were a few who slowed and cocked their heads at the sight of the young Amish
couple. With their plain, reserved manner of dress, they clashed with their
surroundings.  
  
"Okay, little brother, that's everything you need," Thomas said with a huff.
He looked so much more distinguished, Abel thought, with the beard that until
the day before, Abel himself was forbidden to grow. While only three years
separated them, to Abel, Thomas seemed infinitely older.  
  
"Thank you, Thomas," Abel said, offering his hand.  
  
Thomas clasped it with a smirk, pressing a small plastic card to his brother's
palm.  
  
Abel looked down at what he held. The Visa logo was unmistakable. He raised a
questioning eye to his brother.  
  
"The six of us pitched in," Thomas explained. "We figured you might want to
have a little extra fun. Father doesn't know about this, and he won't. It's
just that, well, you need to use the cruise pass to buy anything on the ship,
and since Father's paying for that, he gets the receipt, and . . . ."  
  
Abel nodded in understanding. "I understand. So, how much is on the card?"  
  
Thomas rolled his shoulders. "A little less than three hundred. Jacob was a
cheapskate; we all put in fifty, but he only gave twenty."  
  
Abel chuckled and waved the card between them. "We'll drink to you all."  
  
"You better," said Thomas. They both looked back to the idling taxi in which
Ilse still sat, demure and waiting her cue. Even more than the two Amish
brothers, she seemed severely out of place in her unflattering dress.  
  
"Just, um . . . don't come back with anything too embarrassing to explain,"
Thomas said, giving Abel a meaningful look, then laughed.  
  
"Otherwise, don't come back at all?"  
  
Soberness returned to Thomas' face. "Exactly."  
  
* * * *  
  
As a proper wife should, Ilse sat quietly beside her new husband on the
airplane, something she had never been in before, and despite some
airsickness, she maintained her composure throughout the trip. Once in Miami,
however, she seemed to open up and look around at the city passing by. More
than once she commented on the minimal clothing worn by men and women outside
the taxi.  
  
"Well, it's much warmer here than in Pennsylvania," Abel told her.  
  
As the taxi idled at a stoplight, Ilse stared wide-eyed at a bronze-skinned
Hispanic woman who crossed the street clad in nothing more than a bikini and
sunglasses. "Are people going to be dressed like that on the cruise ship?" she
asked.  
  
Abel chuckled. "I'm sure they will," he said, then cupped her chin, bidding
her to look at him. He met her eyes. "We can get you one of those, just for
this trip."  
  
Ilse swallowed nervously. "If . . . if you want me to wear something like
that, I . . . I will."  
  
Abel smiled affectionately. "This is our special time away from home," he
said. "If we can't be a little wild now, we'll never have the chance again."  
  
Slowly, Ilse nodded. Despite her reservations, she was beginning to feel a
sense of excitement.  
  
* * * *  
  
The cruise ship was immense, the largest thing Abel and Ilse could ever
imagine sitting upon water. It seemed impossible that so gargantuan a thing
did not sink under its own bulk.  
  
Nervousness returned to Ilse as they waited to embark. The line of couples and
families was as long as the ship itself, it seemed. Many of them looked the
Amish couple over with interest, even amusement, as if they were aliens from a
different world.  
  
"I didn't think you Amish people could go on cruises," a round-bodied man,
standing with his family ahead of them, remarked. "I mean, ain't that against
your religion or something?"  
  
"It is against the _ordnung_ to own most modern technology," Abel explained.
"But we can still use it sometimes."  
  
The man shrugged. "Something I didn't know," he said. "But, you guys don't
have cars, or TV, or phones, right?"  
  
Abel gave a placating smile. "We have a telephone booth for our community."  
  
The round man nodded slowly. "Oh . . . okay," he said, then returned his
attention to his family.  
  
"Abel," Ilse whispered, tugging on her husband's sleeve. "Is everyone going to
stare at us like this?"  
  
He touched her face. "Not once we change our clothes," he said, indicating the
shopping bag he held. "Well, they probably will, but in a different way."  
  
Again, Ilse swallowed nervously. But the pinpoint of excitement in her chest
was growing rapidly.  
  
* * * *  
  
_When a ship is so large you need to have elevators on it . . ._ Abel trailed
off in his thoughts as he led his wife down the carpeted hall toward their
cabin. Ilse looked about in bewilderment, noting the framed posters
advertising various shows, casinos, and other things to do -- _rock climbing?
On a ship at sea?_ \-- nearly tripping her husband as she endeavored to stay
as close to him as possible. She was such a proverbial fish out of water that
Abel was afraid she might suffocate.  
  
Their cabin was a pleasant surprise. A queen-sized bed filled most of the
room, facing a wall unit with a television, some shelving, and a few
decorative nick-knacks. There was a bathroom with a shower stall just inside
the door, and across the bed, beyond a small space in which sat a bistro-style
table and two chairs, was a sliding glass door that opened onto an enclosed
balcony.  
  
"I do not want to know how much your father paid for all this," Ilse breathed
as she stepped into the room.  
  
Abel chuckled. "The business of selling furniture is a good business," he
remarked. He shook the shopping bag, after setting their suitcase upon the
bed.  
  
Standing before the balcony door, Ilse turned back with a blushing smile,
anticipating what her husband had purchased. "Are you going to have me wear
something scandalous?" she asked coquettishly.  
  
Abel grinned. "It would only be scandalous if they found out back home."  
  
Their eyes met, and for a moment, Ilse was not the docile wife she was
expected to be. She held his gaze, and her smile grew. "May I see what
terribly revealing garment you purchased for me?"  
  
Abel's dark eyes glittered as he reached into the bag to extract the garment.
He held it up, letting the bag fall to the floor. Ilse's eyes widened; her
mouth fell agape. "Oh . . . my," she muttered. Tentatively, she stepped around
the bed to take it from him. "Is this . . . is this it?"  
  
"Oh, there are sandals, too."  
  
She blinked her blue eyes. "Sandals."  
  
He nodded, then indicated the bathroom door. "Why don't you try it on?"  
  
Numbly, Ilse stepped past with a swish of her voluminous dress, and closed the
door behind her in the bathroom.  
  
* * * *  
  
Abel sat on the edge of the bed, looking out the window at the open sea. The
ship was yet to depart; he recalled reading in the brochure that they would
not leave Miami until around 6 in the evening. That was hours from now. Still,
most of the restaurants, bars and other venues would already be open, not to
mention, of course, the pools.  
  
"Abel?"  
  
He cocked his head, calling over his shoulder. The muted sound of his wife's
voice told him she was still in the bathroom. "Is everything all right?" he
called.  
  
". . . I think so . . . ."  
  
With a chuckle, Abel rose from the bed and approached the bathroom. Standing
just outside, he asked, "does it fit?"  
  
"Well . . . I guess that would be one way to put it. I wonder, actually, how
I'll keep it from falling off."  
  
Abel arched an eyebrow. _Now, wouldn't that be a shame?_ "Why don't you just
come out, let me look at you."  
  
Silence was his response.  
  
"Ilse?"  
  
"Just . . . a moment . . . ."  
  
He waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, he raised his hand to rap knuckles
against the door, but stopped himself. _She's barely eighteen, Abel_, he told
himself. _Give her some time._  
  
He turned away, but just then, the latch sounded on the door. He turned back.  
  
"Oh . . . ."  
  
They both spoke at the same time, drinking in the sight of one another. Ilse
had not expected to see her new husband as he now was, clad in nothing more
than a slim-fitting pair of dark green nylon briefs. His mostly-bare body bore
the slim but muscular frame of a man used to hard work; every muscle was
clearly detailed. And even with the dark fabric covering his groin, the
outline of Abel's impressive penis was noticeable.  
  
As for Ilse . . . .  
  
Abel found it strange that, even though their union had been consummated the
night before, he had never fully appreciated his young wife's body. Certainly,
he had never seen her in such miniscule garb. The soft yellow bikini was a
two-piece, with the triangles atop covering little more than her areolas,
leaving the swell of her small but uplifted breasts visible. The bottoms
covered her sex, but only barely; ethereal wisps of fine blonde hair protruded
around the edges just between her legs. Ilse's figure was slender and toned,
with the slightest swell to her smooth stomach.  
  
"I think it's a little small," she remarked, looking down at the bikini
bottom. "My nether hair is poking out."  
  
Abel smiled, fighting off the surge of his libido. "Well, many women, as I
understand it, shave away some of their hair down there. Some even shave it
all off."  
  
"All of it?" Ilse asked dubiously. "I would look like a child!"  
  
He chuckled. "Well, maybe just a trim would do, then," he suggested.  
  
"I suppose," she said, unconvinced.  
  
"It will be fine," he assured her, taking Ilse's narrow shoulders in his
hands. "Just do it quickly; we have an entire ship to explore."  
  
"Like this?" she asked, stupefied.  
  
"I doubt we will be the only ones." He lowered his head to kiss her soft lips.
"You are a beautiful woman, Ilse. If there is any time in a man's life he
could be proud to show off his wife, it would be now."  
  
She drew in a nervous, shuddering breath, but nevertheless smiled. "Don't you
leave me for a second," she warned.  
  
"I promise."  
  
* * * *  
  
With nothing more than his wallet and a map of the ship in hand, Abel led his
wife through the corridors of the cruise liner. Their cabin was not far from
one of the open decks, and as he had assured her, they were not the only ones
dressed for the beach. Indeed, anything more than a bikini or shorts seemed to
be a rarity.  
  
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Ilse intoned, clutching Abel's hand as they looked
upon the scene before them. "I had no idea it would be like this."  
  
"Neither did I," Abel echoed.  
  
They stood atop a set of whitewashed metal stairs that descended to a massive
pool area around which were two open bars. Beyond the first pool was an area
with canopied tables, and then another, larger pool beyond. Finally, just past
that was a towering formation of false rock, which Abel deduced was the "rock
wall" he had read about in the brochure.  
  
There were people everywhere, many of them getting a head start on their
vacation through alcohol. Music filled the air, almost magically, with no
obvious source in sight. The atmosphere was friendly, joyous, and more than a
little hedonistic.  
  
"Abel," whispered Isle, leaning close to her husband. "People . . . are
_looking_ at me."  
  
He smiled upon her and gave his wife another kiss. "That's because you're
gorgeous," he said. "Better get used to it."  
  
They took two steps down the stairs before Ilse jerked his hand once more.
"Abel!" she hissed. "That woman! I can see her entire behind!"  
  
"She's wearing a thong," he explained.  
  
Two steps later: "That man! Is he wearing a woman's bikini?"  
  
Abel rolled his eyes, then stepped down before his wife until they were eye
level. "Are you going to be like this all week?"  
  
Her large round eyes chastened, and she dipped her head. "I'm sorry," she said
demurely. "I won't embarrass you."  
  
His fingertips graced the line of her jaw. She was already growing warm
beneath the sun. Color was evident on her cheeks. "I know this is all knew to
you. It's all right to be surprised. Just try not to be so obvious."  
  
She nodded stiffly. "I will. I promise."  
  
He smiled. "Now. Let's have a drink."  
  
* * * *  
  
The two bars were standing room only, so after ordering a couple of over-
priced cocktails -- a moment's nervousness crossed Abel's mind as the
bartender swiped his cruise pass -- the newlyweds found a spot by the railing
overlooking the decks below. Men and women were already claiming deck chairs
and laying out in the sun. Some of them matched Ilse's simple beauty; most did
not. Then there were those few women who had obviously made it their career to
look sexy, having gone to lengths to secure the perfect tan, the perfect
breasts, the perfect hair . . . Abel could only shake his head at such women.
Their mere appearance spoke to him of selfishness and materialism.  
  
_Unlike my wife_, he thought, looking to Ilse as she stood in profile, sipping
a vibrant drink topped with a paper umbrella. _Lord, she truly is beautiful_.  
  
There were men to match the over-the-top temptresses parading around, men in
the skimpiest of Speedos with massive arms, chiseled muscles and sporting
brilliantly white smiles which must have cost thousands. Abel truly pitied
them.  
  
"Is this what it was like during your Rumspringa?"  
  
Ilse's question startled him as he was shaking his head in wonder at a man
with an uncommonly muscular frame, clad in a straw cowboy hat, white bikini,
and deck shoes.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
Her sweet smile remained. "I mean, I don't think it was like _this_," she
said, indicating the cruise ship and all it contained. "But, did you go to
places where women dress in bikinis and there was all this music, and
drinking, and . . . and . . . well?"  
  
Abel laughed. "I guess I haven't really told you much about my time away," he
said.  
  
She met his gaze, what little alcohol she had already imbibed making her bold.
"You haven't told me _anything_," she said meaningfully.  
  
He took a breath and let his gaze return to the ocean upon which they -- and
thousands of others -- would soon be traveling. "I guess I could just quote
something from the Good Book about a wife minding her husband," he said. He
looked back to Ilse. "But I won't. I was away for two years. I learned a few
things."  
  
"Two years, two months and, um, several days," she corrected him, blushing
slightly around her straw.  
  
He chuckled. "One of the things I learned was how outsiders -- some of them --
listen to one another. A husband and wife here aren't the same as we are back
home in Pennsylvania. They treat each other as equals."  
  
Ilse thought a moment. "But the _ordnung_ says I am yours. You are my voice as
surely as you are your own."  
  
We shifted closer and winked. "Not tonight," he said. "Not on this entire
trip. Do you understand? I want you to speak your mind."  
  
She looked away. "I . . . I'll try."  
  
Abel slipped back slightly and took a sip of his drink. He was obviously more
comfortable with their surroundings than his wife. "Father gave me some money
before I left, and I used it to buy a car," he revealed with a nostalgic
chuckle. "It took me a while to learn to drive it. I should have gotten an
automatic."  
  
She stared at him in amazement. "You had a car?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes, I did. And I started driving. I had no idea where to go, so I
bought a map. I ended up in a city called Savannah, which isn't too far away
from here. Lots of beaches. There were also a lot of restaurants, and one of
them was looking for a dish washer. So I got a job.  
  
"For weeks, I saved up money, sleeping in my car and going to work every day.
Then I rented a room in one of the houses near the beaches. I spent a lot of
time there. Sometimes, I'd go into the city, to book stores, to restaurants,
to music stores . . . and bars and night clubs."  
  
"How many girls did you meet?" Ilse asked slyly.  

He smiled crookedly. "A few," he said.  
  
"Uh huh. Just a few."  
  
He gazed upon her. "Neither of us was a virgin last night," he said pointedly.  
  
She blushed deeply. "No . . . no, we weren't."  
  
He sidled against her, pressing his body to hers. "Speaking of last night," he
prompted.  
  
Ilse coughed as she sipped her cocktail. Her eyes darted around nervously.
"Abel," she whispered. "There are people around."  
  
He shifted his drink to his left hand, then let his right stray to the top of
his wife's thigh. His lips brushed her ear. "Yes, there are," he whispered.  
  
She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his fingertips as they danced across
her upper thigh, teasing the edge of her bikini, and the warmth of his breath.
Involuntarily, she pushed her hips back, feeling the impressive girth of his
now half-engorged penis against her buttocks.  
  
His fingers traveled inward, pushing aside the thin fabric covering her sex.
She shuddered as arousal washed through her mind.  
  
The sudden loud _pop!_ of a champagne cork startled them both, reminding them
of where they were. Abel jerked his hand away; Ilse breathed out heavily.  
  
"Let's go back to our cabin," Abel suggested.  
  
" . . . yes. Please," she panted in response.  
  
* * * *  
  
Her instinct had been to pull down the covers of the room's stately bed and
crawl beneath, but Abel kept her from doing so. Situating her at the end of
the bed, with the curtains of the balcony door drawn wide to allow the
afternoon sun into the cabin, he knelt before his young wife, slipping the
bikini bottom down her lean thighs.  
  
_What a treasure_, he thought, looking upon Ilse's golden-furred pussy. She
had trimmed the hair just enough to be covered by the bikini, and nothing
more. The brilliant hair covered her outer lips and pubic mound, but was none
too thick. It was perfect, Abel thought.  
  
He pushed her back onto the bed, following quickly and splaying her thighs
apart. Ilse gasped and moaned loudly when his mouth found her slick pussy and
his tongue licked deep between the slippery folds. The young bride writhed and
panted, pulling at the sheets, lifting her head to stare down at what her
husband was doing to her. Never had she felt a man's tongue between her
thighs. The feeling was, she quickly decided, nothing short of rapturous.  
  
Lost to abandon, Ilse was content to let Abel use her as he wished, so long as
the sensations remained so delicious. But just as she began to climb the
precipice of orgasm, he stopped, moving up over her body. With a quick plunge,
his thick, long cock was buried within her. Ilse cried out, arching her back,
giving herself willingly.  
  
Her legs and arms wrapped around him, encouraging him. He settled atop her
petite body, pumping, pushing, fucking. His mouth latched to her neck, sucking
gently. She moaned all the while, dragging fingertips along his strong back
and muscled arms. She rolled her hips instinctively, mashing her clit against
her husband's flat, firm lower abdomen.  
  
She bucked when she came, panting hoarsely through it all, ripping the blanket
from the bed. Her rippling pussy sucked on Abel's cock until he joined his
wife in orgasm, jetting his seed deep within her womb.  
  
They rocked together gently afterward, drifting from their shared orgasmic
cloud to the sober earth of reality. They giggled, smiled, laughed, kissed,
touched. Finally, the trials of the day -- the trip on the plane, the ride
through Miami, the trek through the ship, and of course, the lovemaking --
took their toll, and the young couple fell asleep upon the bed.  
  
* * * *  
  
It was well after midnight when they awoke, chilled in the conditioned air of
the cabin. They stepped onto the balcony with glasses of water, enjoying the
fresh night air of the Caribbean. The ship had already left port, starting
upon its languid journey south. Faint music -- something tropical and airy --
drifted to them from one of the open decks.  
  
"As much as I love our home," Ilse said wistfully as she reclined upon one of
the chairs beside her husband. "I could get used to this."  
  
Abel chuckled, gently squeezing her hand. "Maybe, if the business keeps doing
well, we could take another cruise. Maybe on our anniversary."  
  
Ilse turned in her chair, with only a towel to conceal her nudity. She looked
over her husband, who sat fully nude in the pale moon's light. "It would be
worth the hardship of our lives to look forward to something like this every
year," she said.  
  
He smiled upon her. "All this," he said. "And it's only been the first day."  
  
Her eyes flickered playfully. "I can't wait for tomorrow," she said.  
  
* * * *  
  
The next day found them dressed as they had been the previous afternoon, but
with the additions of a sarong for Ilse and a simple T-shirt for Abel. For the
first time since she was a little girl, Ilse wore her hair down, letting it
flow behind her like a cape when she walked. They strolled hand-in-hand
through the shipboard mall, marveling at the stores and all their gaudy wares.
One of the many eateries in the mall's food court introduced them both to the
flavors of the gyro, and another livened their taste buds with supposedly
authentic Orange Juliuses.  
  
They stood in line to play a round of miniature golf, but decided against
attempting the rock wall. They strolled along the outer decks, smelling and
tasting the salty spray of the tropical water, stealing kisses -- and the
occasional groping fondle -- when they could.  
  
Youthful libido overcame them in the mid afternoon, however, and they hurried
back to their cabin for another round of lovemaking. They napped until just
before dinner, before heading out to sample the menu of one of the many
restaurants on the promenade. They chose to try seafood, something never
offered at their homestead in Pennsylvania.  
  
Sated by shrimp linguine and baked trout almondine, the couple returned to the
pools on the upper decks, nicely surprised to find them much less crowded than
the day before. With night fallen and a warm wind blowing gently across the
ship, Abel and Ilse ordered cocktails from one of the bars before finding an
empty table at which to sit. They pulled their chairs close and watched the
frothy wake of the ship in the dark water.  
  
"This is magical," Ilse commented, laying her head upon Abel's shoulder. At
his urging, she was becoming more comfortable with casual displays of
affection. Touching as they had been doing was practically unheard of in their
community, where dignified reservation was the norm. "I don't want to think
about going home."  
  
He petted her hair. "We're not, for five more days," Abel said reassuringly.
"Let's make them memorable."  
  
She pulled back slightly so she could see his face. "This afternoon was
memorable," she said with a wicked smile. Her eyes flickered past him as
movement caught her attention, and her eyes suddenly bulged.  
  
"What is it?" Abel asked, even as he turned to look. He quickly found what had
shocked his wife so. Along the inner edge of one of the hot tubs sat a couple,
the woman straddling the man in the water. She was visible from the waist up,
and had pulled the flimsy triangles of her bikini top to the side, exposing
her breasts to her lover.  
  
Abel glanced around quickly, vicariously nervous for the couple. But she had
her back to the rest of the deck, and they were the only ones in that
particular hot tub. He watched for a few moments as the man caressed his
lover's tits, licking and nibbling on her nipples as she grinned and gyrated
gently atop him. But then the man noticed the attention of the young couple,
and quickly covered his lover's breasts.  
  
Abel looked away, feeling warmth spreading across his face. A glance to his
wife, who was staring down, told him she was blushing as well.  
  
"I can't believe they were doing that in public!" Ilse whispered. "What if
there were children near?"  
  
"But there aren't," Abel said. "And they know that."  
  
"Still . . . it's not decent."  
  
"But it is arousing."  
  
Ilse appeared almost shocked as she looked upon her husband's face. But then,
slowly, her expression changed as she, too, had to admit to feeling aroused.
"Maybe a little," she acquiesced.  
  
Abel couldn't help but chance another look toward the affectionate couple in
the tub. They were both in the water now, the woman beside the man, sipping
from flutes. They spoke to one another with mischievous grins and kept looking
to Abel and Ilse.  
  
Suddenly, the man -- dark haired, fit, perhaps thirty years old Abel judged --
lifted his glass with a smile. He beckoned.  
  
Abel felt a rush through his body at the invitation. He glanced away.  
  
"What's wrong?" Ilse asked.  
  
He smiled crookedly. "I think they want us to join them," he said.  
  
"What? Oh, we couldn't!"  
  
He met her quivering eyes, seeing both apprehension and the faintest hint of
interest within. "Couldn't we?"  
  
Her blush deepened. "Well . . . if you think we should . . . ."  
  
Abel studied his young wife's face. This was uncharted territory for them, but
then, was that not the point of a cruise? To experience new things, meet new
people, enjoy life without constraint?  
  
Silently, but with an encouraging expression, he stood, taking Ilse's hand.
Together, they approached the hot tub, noting the hopeful smiles upon the
faces of the older couple.  
  
"Come on in; the water's great," called the man. He spoke with a southern
accent, not thick, just enough to be noticed. "I'm Mike. This is my wife,
Jessica."  
  
The brunette raised her glass. "Howdy. Pleased to meet ya." her accent was
more pronounced.  
  
"I am Abel, and this is my wife, Ilse."  
  
The man grinned, allowing himself a long, assessing look over them both.
"Honeymoon?" he asked before taking a sip.  
  
Abel laughed. "Are we that obvious?"  
  
"Well, you two look mighty young," Jessica quipped. "And she's hanging on you
like a junebug on a storm screen."  
  
"So, come on, jump on in," encouraged Mike.  
  
Gingerly, at her husband's urging, Ilse entered the tub first, removing her
sarong and stepping over the edge. Abel noticed how Jessica's eyes roamed over
his wife's body. He followed Ilse, settling down into the heated, bubbling
water.  
  
"Oh, my," breathed Ilse with a faint giggle. "This is different."  
  
"Ain't you ever been in a hot tub before?" Jessica asked.  
  
Ilse shook her head. "We don't have anything like this at home."  
  
"We're Amish," Abel explained, as if that was all the explanation they needed.  
  
The older couple stared in mild surprise. "You don't say?" Mark asked
rhetorically. "Pardon my ignorance, but ain't all this a little out of sorts
for you?"  
  
"Very much so," Ilse said, sitting properly upon the ledge beneath the water.  
  
"We aren't completely cut off from the rest of the world," Abel said. "My
family makes furniture. We go to town every week."  
  
"Didn't mean to offend," Mike said, raising both hands from the water.
"Forgive my ignorance."  
  
Abel gave a short nod. "Forgiven," he said, then smiled. "Is this your
honeymoon, too?"  
  
Jessica tittered, a light, airy sound that was echoed by her husband's deeper
chuckle. "Far from it," Mike said. "We've been married for eleven years."  
  
Jessica squirmed against her husband. "High school sweethearts," she said,
then tilted Mike's face to hers for a soulful kiss.  
  
Ilse glanced questioningly to her husband, seeking encouragement. His smile
was all she needed, and she relaxed somewhat, sliding closer to him in the
water. One of her hands beneath the churning water settled onto Abel's bare
thigh.  
  
Mike drained his glass once the kiss was ended, and craned his neck to look
beyond the tub. I made a gesture. "I think we all need another round. Our
treat."  
  
"Well, that's very gracious," said Abel. "Thank you."  
  
He winked. "I got a feeling this trip just got more interesting."  
  
* * * *  
  
Despite their natural reservations, a round of cocktails allowed Abel and Ilse
to open up to their new friends. Mike and Jessica seemed honestly interested
in the lives of their Amish companions. There was much talk concerning the
differences between the way the couples lived their lives.  
  
"What kind of dancing do you do?" asked Ilse, emboldened by alcohol half an
hour later. "I've seen some ballet."  
  
Jessica gave the young blonde a catty look. "Well, now, don't be shocked, but
I'm a topless dancer. Nude, too, sometimes."  
  
Ilse's eye bulged. "Topless? Nude?" she queried. "In front of other people?"  
  
Mike casually reached over to cup one of his wife's breasts. "Best damn
titties in Fort Lauderdale," he proclaimed proudly.  
  
Ilse took a sip of her drink. Abel pulled her close, draping an arm around her
shoulder. "My wife is a little, um, inexperienced about some things."  
  
"Well, maybe we'll just have to change that a little," Jessica declared,
making her thin brows dance. "You know, just from looking at you, I can tell
you got a nice little body. And titties like yours . . . firm and round like
that . . . you'd get a lot of attention in my club."  
  
Redness spread like a rash across Ilse's face. "I could never do anything like
that," she insisted.  
  
"No? You sure about that?" Jessica asked, then eased up slightly out of the
water, looking about quickly. Satisfied that no eyes were turned their way,
the woman brazenly pulled her bikini top aside, exposing her tanned breasts
and dark pink nipples. "Try this."  
  
Ilse stared, eyes wide, mouth agape. "I-I-I couldn't," she stammered, then
searched her husband's face, as if to ask, _could I?_  
  
He encouraged her with a look. _Why not?_  
  
"Come on, honey, whip 'em out," Jessica pressed. She jiggled her breasts back
and forth. They glistened enticingly from the water, nipples fiercely erect.  
  
"I don't know . . . ." Ilse uttered, but her hands were already on her chest,
fingertips curling beneath the fabric that kept her modest.  
  
Abel brushed his wife's ear with his lips. "Go ahead," he whispered.  
  
Ilse nibbled her lip, then suddenly jerked her bikini aside with both hands.
But her breasts danced free for only a moment before she covered them again.  
  
"Oh, come on!" cried Jessica teasingly. "That wasn't nothing! Set 'em free,
baby!"  
  
Ilse rolled her eyes, face glowing. She did not want to admit that she was
enjoying the attention. In their community at home, she was just another
woman, clad in the same clothing as everyone else. Here, however, she was an
individual, unique, and the subject of interest.  
  
"All right!" she exclaimed at last, and proudly pulled her top aside, leaving
the fabric there. Her young tits sat high and proud, freckled and pale, with
small, dusky pink nipples sitting atop the raised mounds of her areolas.  
  
"Oh, damn," Mike commented quickly, making no effort to conceal his interest.
"Those are some nice puffies."  
  
"Ain't they?" Jessica asked, sitting up in the water and moving closer to the
young blonde.  
  
"What do you mean by 'puffies?'" Ilse asked.  
  
"It's the way your areolas stand out like that. They're called puffies. Not
too many women have them."  
  
"Well, they sometimes do that . . . ."  
  
Jessica moved closer in the water, a penetrating look in her eyes. "You mean,
when you're turned on," she said meaningfully. "Like you are right now."  
  
Ilse couldn't answer. All she could was swallow nervously and watch the sultry
brunette as she moved before her. Their legs touched beneath the water. The
women were inches apart, naked breasts rising and falling, decorated with
droplets of warm water.  
  
"You're a very sexy girl," Jessica whispered, slowly bringing her hands up out
of the water, like Venus rising in a clam shell, before gently placing them
upon Ilse's naked tits. Ilse jumped at the contact, but did not push the older
woman's hands away. Her body was tense, breath shallow. She squeezed Abel's
thigh beneath the water.  
  
"You've never been touched by another woman, have you?" Jessica asked, her
fingers caressing Ilse's nipples. They stiffened quickly, pushing out as if
asking for the attention. Ilse could only shake her head vehemently.  
  
"Then, this would be new, too," the brunette whispered, before lowering her
head. She suckled softly upon the blonde's left nipple, pulling it into her
mouth. Her tongue swirled around the swollen areola, awakening nerves.
Passive, Ilse did not move. She closed her eyes, relishing the novel
sensation.  
  
"Looks like the ladies are getting to know each other pretty well," Mike
commented with a meaningful look to Abel.  
  
With effort, Abel managed to glance away from the sight of his wife being
pleasured by another woman. He read the expression on Mike's face; it was one
he had seen before, more than a year previous. An expression that lead to a
single night of strange but memorable pleasure.  
  
"Yes, it looks that way," Abel agreed.  
  
Mike stood in the water, just high enough for the moment that his swollen
erection was visibly outlined by the tight white male bikini he wore. But then
he slipped back into the water, closer to Abel now. He kept his gaze locked on
the young man. "How about us?"  
  
Abel trembled with both nervousness and arousal. A hidden, dark feeling which
only once before had been indulged was suddenly dragged from the depths of his
libido, especially once the attractive, dark-haired man slid his hand up
Abel's thigh, to find the outline of his own stiff erection.  
  
"I thought so," Mike commented with a sly smile. He massaged Abel's cock
slowly, then gave a quick look to his wife.  
  
Still suckling Ilse's breasts, Jessica caught the message in her husband's
eyes and let her hands drift beneath the water. One joined her husband's in
groping the young man's cock, while the other found the fleshy mound beneath
the blonde's slightly-parted thighs. The young woman gasped, head falling back
against the edge of the tub. Beside her, Abel squirmed as a pair of hands
stroked his suddenly-exposed penis under the water.  
  
"Ahem."  
  
Attention suddenly drawn to the steward standing above them, whose warning
look told them all they needed to know, the imminent lovers suddenly stopped.
Jessica and Mike backed off slightly, giving catty looks to their new friends.
Embarrassingly, Ilse covered her breasts and snuggled against her husband.  
  
"Looks like we've gotten ourselves worked up," Mike commented, reaching for
his drink.  
  
Abel cleared his throat. His cock was still hard, and still exposed beneath
the water. Ilse had not noticed. "Maybe it's time to go."  
  
"I couldn't agree more," Jessica declared, reaching out to touch Ilse's
glowing face. "We have a stateroom. Plenty of space."  
  
"With a king sized bed," Mike added suggestively.  
  
Again, Ilse sought direction -- or encouragement? -- from her husband. Abel
fought against his urgent libido, trying to think rationally. _We don't know
these people_, he tried to tell himself. _But how much do we need to know,
other than that we're attracted to them?_  
  
Finally, Abel nodded. "Sure."  
  
* * * *  
  
Nervous apprehension combined with inebriated anticipation as the young couple
followed their new friends through the ship's corridors. Ilse squeezed her
husband's hand in a near death grip. Neither of them spoke, afraid that doing
so would reveal their fears and dispel the moment.  
  
With occasional looks and smiles back to the couple behind them, Mike and
Jessica considered their good fortune at having seduced such an attractive,
inexperienced couple. They nearly felt as if they were courting a pair of
virgins.  
  
Finally, at the door to their cabin, Mike and Jessica stopped and faced the
Amish newlyweds. "You two can leave whenever you want," Mike said firmly. "We
have no expectations at all."  
  
"Just hopes," added Jessica with a sultry glimmer across her face.  
  
Abel nodded with a reaffirming grip of his wife's hand. "Thank you for that
kindness," he said.  
  
With an impish smirk, Mike turned back to the door, swiped his card, and
pushed it open.  

The room beyond was easily twice the size of the accommodations Abel and Ilse
enjoyed, with large bed in the center of one wall, a couch, chair, and large
television, and a bathroom that held both a full bath and shower. The balcony,
visible through wide-open windows, was home to a table and pair of chairs.  
  
"So, come in, make y'all selves comfortable," Jessica cooed, casually reaching
back to untie her bikini top. She let the garment flutter to the ground as she
stood by the bed. She bent at the waist, hooking her thumbs beneath the damp
bottoms, and cast a devilish grin over her shoulder. "I certainly am."  
  
Neither Abel nor Ilse could avert their gaze as Jessica slid the thong-backed
garment down her toned legs. As she stooped even more, keeping her legs
straight, the smooth, hairless lips of her sex were revealed.  
  
"In case you haven't noticed," Mike mentioned as he stepped past the young
couple. "My wife is a bit of an exhibitionist."  
  
Jessica laughed softly, then turned and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning
back on her hands with her legs casually parted. Star tattoos decorated her
lower abdomen, just over her ovaries, and a panther was inked into the tender
flesh of her right upper thigh, as if clawing its way toward her vagina.  
  
"Your turn, honey," she said, giving a challenging look to Ilse.  
  
The young blonde trembled, but it was now more from arousal than apprehension.
Leaving her husband by the door, she approached Jessica, untying her own
bikini top and letting it fall. A few mere feet from the dark-haired woman,
she slid the bottoms down off her thighs, with much more fluidity than Abel
would have expected.  
  
"Nice, nice," Jessica commented. "Love that little sashay in your hips,
honey." Casually, she leaned forward and reached out, brushing fingertips
through Ilse's soft bush. "Now, ain't that something. I never seen pubes so
blonde."  
  
Ilse regarded her bushy sex, then Jessica's hairless mound. "Why do you shave
it?"  
  
Jessica smiled and leaned back, kicking her feet up for a moment. "Why hide
such a wonderful treasure?"  
  
Mike cleared his throat loudly, garnering the attention of the naked ladies.  
  
His wife rolled her eyes, then pushed herself up beside Ilse. "The boys, I
think, require some attention," she commented. She gestured to Abel. "Come on,
have a seat next to Mike, darling."  
  
Numbly, guided only by his libido, Abel did as directed, slipping past his
glowing wife. Mike had already settled to the edge of the bed and removed his
deck shoes. Abel did the same, positioning himself on the mattress.  
  
"Now, do what I do, honey," Jessica instructed, getting on her knees before
Mike. With an almost predatory gleam in her eye, she gripped the waistband of
her husband's shorts and pulled. He lifted up enough to assist, and the
swimsuit came down, revealing his proud -- and, like his wife, smooth-shaved
-- sex. His cock jutted up straight once it was released, a pale, circumcised
staff with a broad pink head.  
  
Ilse stared a moment, then let out a nervous laugh before pulling on Abel's
shorts. As his came down, his cock also bobbed free, slapping to his abdomen.
Visibly thicker and uncut, surrounded by a nest of dark, fine hair, the
differences between the two men could not be more obvious.  
  
"Oh, honey, I bet you have fun with that thing," Jessica remarked, even as she
took her husband's cock in her hands.  
  
Ilse answered while staring up into her husband's eyes. "I certainly do," she
answered.  
  
Jessica tittered, languidly stroking Mike's erection. "So, what do Amish girls
know about giving blowjobs?"  
  
Ilse frowned in confusion, while somewhat awkwardly mimicking the southern
woman's strokes on her husband's penis. "I don't know what that is," she said.  
  
"Well, watch and learn, honey, watch and learn . . . ." she trailed off as she
lifted up and directed the tip of Mike's dick toward her mouth. Wetting her
lips for effect, she licked all around the pink head, then slowly up and down
the shaft for a few moments before finally sucking the glans into her mouth
and pulling in her cheeks.  
  
Ilse watched the woman bob on Mike's cock, listening to the wet, push-pull
sucking sounds. She watched Mike's face dissolve into an expression of lust
and gratification. Then she looked back to Abel.  
  
"Would you think less of me if I . . .?" she asked timidly.  
  
Abel reached down to brush away strands of damp blonde hair. "I could never
think less of you, no matter what we do, so long as we both want it."  
  
His words heartened her, and she smiled, pleased, before focusing her
attention on Abel's impressive penis. As Jessica had done, she licked her
lips, then, for the first time, slipped out her tongue to taste her husband's
cock. Her hands scrolled the milky foreskin down, exposing the glans, and she
lapped all around it, tasting the clear seepage that emanated from the slit.
She considered the flavor a moment, then smiled and continued.  
  
"Put it in your mouth, honey," Jessica urged. "Use your lips and tongue, but
don't touch it with your teeth. Just suck, and move your mouth up and down.
Trust me, honey, a good blowjob is worth a good fuck any day."  
  
Ilse nodded, unable to conceal the excitement on her face. She stared at the
tip of Abel's cock, thinking, briefly, _this is where my children will be
coming from_. But then she parted her lips and covered the purplish-pink head
with her mouth, sucking in the first couple of inches. _But not tonight.
Tonight is for pleasure_.  
  
Abel arched his back, suppressing the urge to shove his cock deep. This was
not the first time he had been so serviced, but the sight, the feel, the
entire circumstance of his innocent young bride performing such a deliciously
decadent act upon him was overwhelming. He felt the questing wet firmness of
her tongue, the pressure of her lips, the warmth of her mouth . . . _such
sweet bliss!_  
  
Slipping her wet mouth from Abel's cock, Ilse looked up at him with wide blue
eyes seeking validation. "Does it feel good?" she asked him.  
  
Abel's head spun. "Oh, so very good," he panted, placing a gentle hand on the
back of her head.  
  
With a broad smile and blushing giggle, Ilse plunged her mouth back down,
sucking nearly half her husband's length. Beside them, Mike and Jessica
watched.  
  
"I think she's a natural," Jessica remarked, rubbing Mike's cock around her
mouth.  
  
"Sure looks like it," Mike answered, then groaned as his wife took him into
her mouth and pushed down. Inch after inch slid past her lips, until the head
nudged the opening of her throat and popped within. Her chin pressed against
his hairless balls, her nose against his abdomen. Mike uttered a staccato
groan of pleasure.  
  
Ilse tilted her head, not removing her mouth from Abel's cock, to see what
made Mike give such a sound. Amazement was obvious upon her face at what she
witnessed. She popped her drooling mouth off Abel's penis. "How do you do
that?"  
  
Jessica pumped her husband's cock with her mouth and throat for a few moments,
before releasing him with a gasp for air. "Practice," she informed, stroking
Mike's slick penis. "Maybe I'll teach you how to do it. Not that you'd have an
easy time with a monster like that."  
  
"I can't even imagine," Ilse muttered, before returning to her oral worship.  
  
"Well, don't try, 'cause you'd choke on it, honey," Jessica warned. "Besides,
I think what you're doing is enough to get him off."  
  
Abel nodded vehemently, making both Mike and Jessica laugh and Ilse beam at
her accomplishment.  
  
"Now, let's make them come," Jessica announced, all but attacking Mike's cock.
She stroked and sucked in tandem, making her husband squirm. Mike gritted his
teeth, clenching the sheets of the bed. His thighs spasmed. He seemed to glare
at his wife as she began working him to orgasm.  
  
Inspired, Ilse copied the brunette's movements, wrapping her right hand around
Abel's cock, pumping it with a firm grip as her mouth glided up and down the
first few inches. Her husband shuddered at the intense sensations. His penis
tensed and throbbed within her mouth.  
  
"Fuck yeah, baby, make me come," growled Mike. "Show Ilse how you take my
load."  
  
Jessica whimpered around her mouthful, sucking, stroking, pulling, pushing.
Her body undulated as she serviced her husband, more than eager to receive her
reward. After only a handful of seconds more, Mike was gasping and groaning,
throwing his head back.  
  
The first spurt of thick semen gushed into Jessica's mouth, and she
immediately slid back, masturbating her husband's cock with the head just past
her open lips. Jet after jet of milky fluid splashed into her mouth, upon her
tongue. A few dribbles escaped to trickle down her cheeks. She swallowed
quickly, then descended with a guttural moan, sucking passionately to get
every last drop of precious sperm Mike had to give.  
  
Both amazed and intimidated by the sight, Ilse worked Abel with her hand and
mouth, anticipating the sensation of her husband ejaculating in her mouth.
_What will it feel like?_ she wondered. _What will it taste like?_  
  
But she had little time for such thoughts, as Abel was soon gasping as well,
his hips vibrating as orgasmic waves thundered through his body. His cock
swelled and burned pleasurably, then erupted within Ilse's mouth.  
  
Her eyes flew open wide at the rush of thick, rich, warm fluid that inundated
her senses and flooded her mouth. She emitted a muffled squeal, unsure of what
to do with the unexpected geyser between her lips. Still, she continued
sucking, her lips a vacuum seal around the head of Abel's cock. Her hand
slowly pumped up and down, feeling the pressured pulses within the shaft that
heralded each salvo of cum.  
  
"St-st-stop," Abel gasped, sitting up and grasping both Ilse's hand and her
head. "Don't move, just . . . just suck . . . softly . . . ."  
  
Ilse shifted, feeling her cheeks ballooning. Her husband's gift swirled in her
mouth, soaking into her cheeks, flowing to the entrance of her throat. She
swallowed some of it reflexively, and grimaced slightly at the unexpected
flavor.  
  
"Oh, go, girl," Jessica cheered as she watched. "You took it like a champ!"  
  
Gingerly, as Abel released his hold, Ilse slid her mouth from his cock. A
strand of thick fluid stretched from the tip of Abel's penis to her lower lip.
She brushed it away and sat back, contemplating the thick fluid in her mouth.
All she tasted, all she smelled, was semen. It was pungent, but not all that
unpleasant. Different, to be sure, unlike anything she had ever tasted before.
But there was a strange sweetness to it, like the flavor of homemade whisky or
the taste of fresh seafood.  
  
"Go on, girl," Mike coaxed. "Just send it all down."  
  
Ilse glanced to him, then to Jessica, reading their aroused expressions. Then
she looked up to her husband's flushed and sublime face. He gazed upon her
like a penitent man at the feet of the Virgin Mary.  
  
The corners of her lips curled upward. Keeping her eyes locked on Abel's, she
sucked in her cheeks and swallowed down every bit of his precious gift.
Breathing out, she licked her lips and smiled in triumph.  
  
Jessica and Mike both applauded. Abel fell back on the bed with a contented
sigh.  
  
* * * *  
  
The ladies headed to the bath to freshen up, giving their husbands time to
recover. Clad in bath robes, Abel and Mike headed down the hall to an ice
dispenser and filled up a bucket.  
  
"You've got an amazing little wife there," Mike remarked as he held the bucket
beneath the noisy machine's funnel.  
  
"As do you," returned Abel.  
  
Mike winked and chuckled. "I know this might be touchy ground, but . . . if
you think you and Ilse are up for it, we could, you know do more."  
  
Abel fidgeted slightly. "I am not that naïve to think it wouldn't be a
possibility," he said. "I would like to leave it up to her."  
  
Mike fixed him a look. "But how would you feel about it?"  
  
Abel frowned in contemplation. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I guess . . . it
would be one of those things where we would just have to see where it goes."  
  
Mike grinned. "Can't ask for more than that."  
  
They returned to the cabin a minute later, ice bucket filled, to find a
tantalizing sight awaiting them. Ilse and Jessica writhed upon the bed, fresh
from a quick shower that left their hair wet and plastered across faces,
shoulders, and backs. They kissed passionately, hands roaming along slick,
naked flesh. Jessica was atop the young blonde, one hand aggressively
squeezing one of Ilse's firm breasts. For her part, Ilse was kneading
Jessica's taut buttocks. Both women moaned softly in the throes of budding
passion.  
  
The ice bucket clattered to the floor, followed quickly by a pair of white
terrycloth robes. Mike and Abel approached the bed, drinking in the scene
before them, wondering if they should merely watch, or include themselves.  
  
Noticing the presence of the men, Jessica offered a wicked smile before
trailing a series of kisses down Ilse's young, freckled body. The blonde
looked to Abel, reaching out to him. He climbed onto the bed beside her,
erection already prominent.  
  
"Abel, my husband, I wasn't thinking, I--"  
  
"Shh," he interrupted, then bent to kiss her. "It's all right. You want this?"  
  
She nodded slowly, then suddenly winced, grimacing with an expression of
unexpected pleasure.  
  
Abel looked down, seeing Jessica between his wife's splayed thighs, her mouth
pressed firmly to Ilse's succulent pussy. The soft tangle of blonde pubic hair
was ruffled by Jessica's nose as she twitched her head back and forth. The
brunette seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the taste of Ilse's young cunt, for
she moaned and licked as deeply as her tongue would allow.  
  
Mike stepped behind his wife, cock engorged. With little in the way of
finesse, he shoved into his wife, making her falter in her ministrations upon
Ilse. Her eyes tipped back a moment, but then she gathered her wits and
resumed devouring the blonde's pussy as her husband fucked her.  
  
Abel felt a bit out of place, unsure of what to do. Ilse was too occupied to
give him any attention, and Mike had a monopoly on his wife. Thankfully, the
older man realized this, and bent over to whisper a suggestion into Jessica's
ear.  
  
"Sounds good to me," Jessica announced, withdrawing her now-glistening mouth
from Ilse's genitals. Climbing onto the bed, she turned about and straddled
the blonde's body, with her face above Ilse's pussy and her pussy above Ilse's
face. Once comfortable, she resumed sucking and licking the blonde's saturated
cunt.  
  
Watching avidly, Abel knelt by the bed, looking upon his young wife's flushed
face beneath Jessica's smooth-shaved sex. Ilse looked lost to the world,
gripping the other woman's cheeks, chaotically flicking her tongue out to
taste Jessica's inner thighs. As if by accident, she managed to find the
brunette's swollen clit with her tongue, and licked around it.  
  
"Abel."  
  
The young man looked up at the sound of his name. Mike, standing on the other
side of the bed, made a swirling motion with his hand, indicating that he and
Abel switch places. With a nod and a grin, Abel rose and stepped around,
passing Mike as the latter climbed onto the bed behind his wife.  
  
Coming onto his knees between Ilse's spread thighs, Abel stroked his cock in
readiness. Curling her tongue from within the blonde's slick lips, Jessica
eyed the stiff penis before her. "Not that you need it, but let me get you
ready," she declared, before opening her mouth to take Abel's cock. The young
man moaned, feeding the woman his length. Her mouth was much more talented
than his wife's, and she took him to the root after only a few plunges, her
throat rippling around his shaft.  
  
She released him after perhaps a minute, grunting as she was filled from
behind. Mike gripped her hips as he fucked her. Abel could only imagine the
sight his wife now had, looking up upon a stiff cock entering Jessica's pussy.
He wondered if his wife was licking Mike's balls, or tickling Jessica's clit
with her tongue.  
  
The possibilities made him twitch, and he lined up his cock with his wife's
ready and waiting tunnel. Jessica split the blonde's lips apart with her
fingers, guiding Abel's cock home. Then she began laving both Ilse's clit and
the top of Abel's shaft with oral attention.  
  
The bed frame creaked as the two men fucked their wives. Both women moaned and
sighed, when their mouths were not otherwise occupied, and clutched each other
desperately as if to keep from being pushed too far by their aggressive
husbands. The sweet aromas of sex flooded the air.  
  
At one point, Jessica reached for Abel's cock as he pulled back, and pulled it
from his wife's pussy. She sucked on it voraciously, tasting the depths of the
blonde's tunnel, before directing the cock back inside its sheath. Giving Abel
a naughty smile, she lifted up and kissed him, imparting the rich, musky
flavor of his wife.  
  
They changed positions, with the men laying upon their backs and the women
astride, giggling and making comments as they fucked their husbands with as
much urgency as they had themselves been fucked. Abel and Mike exchanged looks
as their wives rode them to glory, sharing grins that complemented the abandon
with which Jessica and Ilse enjoyed themselves.  
  
And then it happened. The turning point.  
  
Having treated everyone to an impressive display of orgasmic eruption while
grinding herself onto Mike's penis, Jessica declared she needed to cool down.
With the statement that she wanted to watch Abel and Ilse, she slid up on the
bed while Ilse lay on her back beside the brunette, with Abel between his
wife's thighs, slowly and tenderly thrusting into her.  
  
"It's so hot watching other people fuck," Jessica said, casually stroking her
smooth-shaved, swollen pussy with one hand while fondling Ilse's breasts with
the other.  
  
"I agree," Mike commented, kneeling upon the bed beside Ilse, across from his
wife. His cock was semi-erect, glistening with Jessica's fluid. He knelt near
Ilse's head. The blonde's face was heady from the orgasms she had enjoyed, a
consummate mask of pure hedonistic bliss.  
  
Abel leaned over to kiss his wife, who returned the affection with heat and
need. Then, as he lifted up slightly, still pumping into her with long, slow
strokes, Mike shifted on his knees, bringing his cock closer to Ilse's face.
He was testing the waters, Abel knew, wanting to see how far the younger
couple was willing to go.  
  
He stroked himself over Ilse's face, and the young woman watched with heavy,
interested eyes. Mike's cock returned to full mast within moments. Slowly,
tentatively, she turned her head, parting her lips. It was an obvious
invitation.  
  
For a moment, Abel nearly stopped his movements as he watched his wife lick
the tip of another man's cock. A brief sense of jealousy flashed through him,
but it was gone the next instant. He watched with fascination as Mike slid
that wondrously bulbous pink cockhead into Ilse's mouth, as she sucked on it
amid faint muffled whimpers and moans.  
  
And then Abel, lost to his own lust, lowered his head once more, first kissing
the corner of his wife's mouth, feeling through the flesh of her cheek the
intrusion of this other man's cock, and then slowly, carefully, letting his
lips and tongue trail along the shaft of Mike's penis. He tasted the tangy
essence of Jessica's pussy, felt the firmness of the swollen tissue beneath
the skin.  
  
Mike hissed through his teeth. "Oh, yes," he moaned, sawing his hips back and
forth. The head of his dick slid from Ilse's mouth . . . and was quickly
captured by Abel's.  
  
Abel trembled atop his wife, giving in to the forbidden thrill -- one only
once before enjoyed -- of sucking another man's cock. Mike's penis was not
very thick, but that broad, spear-like pink head mashed pleasantly against his
tongue with every thrust. He thrust firmer, faster, into Ilse's body, spurred
on by the erotic rush of pleasing another man.  

Mike moved until he was straddling Ilse's face, whereupon the blonde ardently
licked and sucked his hairless, dangling balls, massaging them with as much
fervor as her husband gave the man's shaft.  
  
Giving in to the moment, Mike held Abel's head in his hands, shuddering as he
neared orgasm. He considered, for a moment that lasted the space of a single
heartbeat, warning the young man, but did not. Instead, he slapped his hands
to the wall above the bed and arched his back, pushing out as he gasped with
release.  
  
The sudden flood of thick, warm cum into his mouth both surprised and aroused
Abel, to the point where he suddenly felt his own orgasm triggered as well. He
convulsed atop his wife, pouring his seed within her womb while sucking every
last drop from the cock before him. In the throes of his orgasm, his lips
became slack around Mike's thrusting shaft. Dribbles of frothy cum escaped his
mouth to land upon his wife's neck and chin.  
  
Mike finally jerked back before the sensations became too much to endure. He
sagged back against the headboard of the bed, and he and Jessica watched with
sated, smiling faces as Abel and Ilse kissed and moaned together, riding out
the length of their shared climax. That Mike's semen was smeared between their
lips only heightened the decadent eroticism of the moment.  
  
Finally, Abel all but collapsed upon his wife. They held each other close,
kissing and murmuring tenderly, until Abel lifted up. Swaying slightly on his
knees, the young man leaned back, eventually finding a comfortable sitting
position. Ilse gazed upon him with a very satisfied smile, reaching out to his
muscular chest, abdomen, and thighs.  
  
"Wow. Ain't that just the hottest thing," Jessica commented, then laughed. She
was quickly joined by the others.  
  
"I think we need more alcohol now," Mike declared, jumping up from the bed.
"Get dressed; the party's still going!"  
  
* * * *  
  
At three o'clock in the morning, while the bars were still open upon the main
deck, there were few partiers on hand to take advantage of the overpaid
mixologists. The two couples were able to find both drinks and a table in
short order and relax beneath the warm tropical air.  
  
Mike and Jessica lit cigarettes and offered their pack to the younger pair.
Ilse refused politely, but Abel, having indulged in the menial enjoyment of
tobacco during his Rumspringa, lit up as well. He exhaled a grey cloud and
looked out across the dark water retreating from the massive liner. Ilse sat
beside him, nursing her drink and looking more than ready for bed.  
  
"Hell of a night," Mike commented, gaining Abel's attention. Abel lifted his
head and met the man's strong gaze.  
  
He nodded. "You could put it that way," he said, and lifted his drink for a
toast. Abel's eyes lingered on Mike's. He could neither deny nor fathom why he
felt such a powerful attraction to this man; it almost matched that which he
felt for his wife. It dawned upon him in a sudden moment of clarity that he
would rather experience pleasure with Mike before sampling anything Jessica
might have to offer. That realization made him frown with confusion.  
  
"I gotta say," Mike said with an air of satisfaction. "This is turning out to
be the best cruise me and Jess have ever had."  
  
"And we've been on lots," added his wife.  
  
"You . . . do this often?" Abel asked cagily, the tenor in his voice carrying
a double entendre.  
  
Mike shrugged casually. "When we can," he said. "If you're just talking about
taking a cruise, we do it about twice a year. If you're talking about, well,
having this kind of fun . . . a little more often than that."  
  
"We're what you call swingers," Jessica explained, sliding a hand across
Mike's lap to briefly grope him. "We'd be happy to just enjoy each other for
the rest of our lives, but, well, it's extra fun to enjoy other people, too."  
  
Abel gave a smile, but it was tired and unsure. He looked to Ilse, who had
fallen back into the demure mode of a good Amish wife. "This is all new to
us," he said.  
  
"Well," Mike said,m flicking ash from his cigarette. "No matter what else
happens on the rest of this cruise, we're happy to have met you."  
  
"Very happy," Jessica added with another glimmer in her eyes.  
  
Abel looked to his wife, unsure of what he read upon her face. But Ilse
shifted in her chair and snuggled close, a grateful smile decorating her lips.  
  
"We are, too," Abel said at last.  
  
* * * *  
  
Retiring alone to their cabin, Abel and Ilse stripped out of their minimal
clothing and, without a word, stepped into the shower. They soaped each other
up and rinsed beneath the spray amid soft kisses and affectionate caresses.
Toweled dry, they climbed into bed and switched off the lights in their room.
The only illumination was the glow of the Caribbean moon through their balcony
door.  
  
"Abel?" Ilse asked in the moody darkness.  
  
"Yes."  
  
". . . on your Rumspringa," she said delicately. "Did you . . . were you with
. . . other men?"  
  
Abel winced inwardly at the question. He knew he could easily deflect the
question, bring to bear the Amish _ordnung_ that stated a wife was never to
question her husband, and leave it at that. But a part of him felt compelled
to give his wife the answers she sought.  
  
"Once," he admitted.  
  
"Only once?"  
  
He squeezed her shoulder. "Yes. Only once."  
  
"But tonight . . . ."  
  
He sighed heavily. "Do you think less of me?" he asked.  
  
Ilse shifted in the darkness, pushed herself up. Her face was dark against the
backdrop of the open balcony, yet Abel was sure he saw softness in his wife's
eyes.  
  
"I am your wife," she said simply. "I love you. I could not think less of
you."  
  
He smiled and sought her lips with the tips of his fingers. "I love you, too."  
  
* * * *  
  
The two couples were practically inseparable after that night. Upon awaking
late on the third day, Abel called Mike and Jessica's room and arranged a
friendly meeting. The foursome spent time in the various pools, browsed the
overpriced wares in the shipboard mall, had lunch and dinner together . . .
before retreating amid knowing looks and scandalous giggles to the older
couple's stateroom for more luscious sexual debauchery.  
  
While Ilse and Jessica freely pleasured one another with fingers, lips and
tongues, Abel remained a bit reserved in further displays of sexual affection
with Mike. His impulses clashed with the expectations instilled in him by his
Amish upbringing. He did not deny his attraction to, and desire for, the older
man; at the same time, his ingrained notions of what was right versus what was
wanted kept him from repeating the actions of that first decadent tryst.  
  
So the couples kept to the husbands pleasuring their wives, even though the
wives often pleased one another. Mike seemed content to only peripherally
sample the young Ilse, through touches and strokes and the occasional mutual
oral gratification, and Abel did the same with the lusciously-tanned brunette.
But a voiceless line had been drawn before either man actually making love to
the other's wife.  
  
By the fourth day of the cruise, it had become a foregone conclusion that upon
awaking, the first thing Abel or Mike did -- depending on who awoke first --
was to ring the others' cabin and plan the day. On that fourth morning, as the
ship docked in Freeport, the ladies desired to sample the local shops, while
Mike wanted to introduce Abel to the strategies of gambling within one of the
port's casinos.  
  
"I've never gambled before," Abel complained as Mike led him along a busy port
side street.  
  
"Well, I have. Don't worry. And it won't even cost that much. Fifty bucks
should be enough."  
  
"Fifty?" asked Abel worriedly, but he remembered the gift card from his
brothers which sat in his wallet. "I guess I can do that."  
  
Following Mike like a hound at the man's heels, Abel soon found himself
stepping from warm tropical air into the cool, humid environment of a
surprisingly spacious casino. Noise was omnipresent, from the electrical
chirps and bubbles of the rows of slot machines to the hubbub of a hundred
conversations. Now and then there came a cry of eureka, but such were drowned
out by the multitude of curses and shouts of "almost had it!"  
  
"The slots are for the suckers," Mike contended after he and Abel had swiped
their cards for cash. He strolled past the colorful, cacophonous machines
toward a series of felt-covered tables. "Blackjack is where it's at."  
  
They sat at an unoccupied table, staffed by a tall, skinny black man dressed
impeccably in a white shirt and tie. "Hey, mon, good afternoon to ya," the
dealer drawled with a grin. "You picked the best table in the house, ya did."  
  
"I don't doubt it," Mike replied, slapping his stack of fives and ones on the
table. "Buying in at fifty."  
  
"Uh, me too," said Abel, copying Mike's actions.  
  
"Fifty for the gentlemen," announced the dealer, counting out colorful chips
from a plastic dispenser. "Let's get this party started, ya?"  
  
* * * *  
  
Five hands later, Abel smiled casually as his nineteen beat both Mike and the
house. "White boy wins again," the dealer proclaimed, sliding more chips to
add to Abel's pile.  
  
Mike frowned suspiciously, sipping his Jack and Coke. He leaned close to Abel.
"I thought you said you never gambled before."  
  
"I haven't," Abel confirmed, organizing his chips. From a quick count, he
figured his original investment of fifty dollars had already been tripled. He
gave Mike a sly wink. "I never said I've never played blackjack before."  
  
Mike laughed and sat back. "I'm gonna call you the Amish Shark from now on,"
he declared.  
  
"New hand, gentlemen," the dealer announced.  
  
"Wait," Mike said, slapping his hand down and easing forward in his chair. He
gave Abel a penetrating stare. "Let's make this interesting."  
  
Abel chewed his lip nervously. "How interesting?"  
  
Mike's eyes became dusky, libidinous. "The winner -- between us -- gets the
loser," he proposed.  
  
The dealer's eyes widened, but he said nothing, waiting.  
  
Abel breathed in, feeling the fluttering wings of invisible butterflies within
his stomach. "Um . . . in what way?"  
  
"However the winner wants."  
  
The young man swallowed thickly, but he could not deny the sudden arousal
spiking through him. He stared at the green felt tabletop for a long moment,
listening to his own heartbeat in his ears. Finally, he nodded with a rakish
grin and met Mike's gaze. "You're on."  
  
Mike shot a look to the dealer. "Set 'em up."  
  
"Uh, sure, mon," the dealer replied awkwardly, then slipped the cards from the
shooter. A nine of diamonds for Abel, six of spades for Mike, and a five of
hearts for the house.  
  
Abel smiled thinly, stacking twenty dollars' worth of chips. Mike matched it.  
  
The next cards came out face-down. Abel peeked, seeing a seven of clubs, which
gave him a total of sixteen. He glanced to Mike, whose face was stoic.  
  
"Raise ten," Mike said, setting the chips on the table. Abel matched it.  
  
"Card?" asked the dealer, looking to Abel.  
  
_Five shy of twenty-one_, Abel thought. _Odds are almost even_. He nodded.
"Hit me."  
  
"Hit me," Mike echoed.  
  
Three cards slid out. The dealer flipped his over. "The house busts at twenty-
three."  
  
Abel peeked at his two unturned cards. The seven of clubs had been joined by a
three of diamonds, giving him a total of nineteen. He smiled. "Stand," he
said.  
  
"Me, too," Mike said, then looked to Abel with a challenging gleam in his eye.
"So, one of us wins, the other loses. But who wins big?"  
  
Abel matched the older man's look. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."  
  
Mike grinned broadly. "I love the sound of that," he said, then snatched up
his cards and flipped them over. The original six of spades had been joined by
a four of clubs . . . and the queen of hearts.  
  
"Twenty!" called the dealer.  
  
Abel stared at the revealed cards, feeling both his heart sink and his cock
rise. He had wanted to win, but the prospect of what Mike may have in store
for him was tantalizing enough to cancel his disappointment. With slow,
dramatic movements, and a knowing look to his new friend, Abel turned his
cards over.  
  
"Nineteen," the dealer said, making a grandiose gesture toward Mike. "The
gentleman wins."  
  
Mike smirked. "Bet your ass," he said.  
  
Abel flickered his eyes away as the dealer slid chips toward the older man. He
could not help but think that Mike's words had been more for him than for the
dealer.  
  
"Thank you, gentlemen," the dealer cheered as Mike and Abel gathered their
winnings and stood. "Come again, hey?"  
  
* * * *  
  
It was only a handful of minutes later, in an alley not far from the casino,
out of sight from the busy avenue, that Abel found himself pushed against the
rear wall of a small, whitewashed building. Face and hands pressed against the
uneven stucco, Abel shuddered with both apprehension and arousal as Mike
jerked his loose-fitting shorts down from behind.  
  
"I gotta say, Abel," Mike murmured as he lowered himself behind the younger
man. "You've got a fucking incredible ass."  
  
Abel said nothing. He tensed as he felt Mike's hands running up and down his
bare thighs and naked cheeks. The thick warm air, filled with all manner of
tropical scents, whirled around him. He breathed in and out, trying to relax
as his lover kissed, then licked, along the backs of his thighs. He felt his
buttocks being pulled apart, before a warm, firm tongue tickled his anus.
Almost automatically, he pushed back against it.  
  
But then Mike was standing once more, pressing his body against Abel's,
breathing into the younger man's ear. "Do you know what I want to do to you?"  
  
Abel nodded languidly.  
  
Mike lightly bit Abel's ear. "Do you want it?"  
  
Abel could only grunt and push back. He felt the other man's stiff erection
against his ass.  
  
"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" Mike said. He eased back, taking a small bottle
of lubricant from his pocket. His stiff cock jutted out above the waistband of
his slightly-lowered shorts. He poured some of the lube onto his cock, then
worked it in with curling strokes of his hand. Then he dribbled more onto
Abel's hair-lined, puckered pink anus.  
  
"Does this feel good?" Mike asked as he massaged Abel's asshole with his
fingers.  
  
Abel sighed heavily. "Yes," he responded meekly.  
  
"What about this?" asked Mike, shoving a single finger into Abel's backside.  
  
The younger man grimaced and groaned, brow furrowing deeply. "Oh! Oh, God . .
. ."  
  
Mike chuckled, easing his finger in and out. The young man's taut aperture
slowly relaxed as Mike finger-fucked it. Then, abruptly, he slipped his finger
free and pressed the head of his cock against Abel's virgin sphincter. He
leaned in, slowly but steadily pushing against the tight opening . . . .  
  
Abel grunted, face contorting with a myriad of emotions and feelings. He could
feel his anus reluctantly giving way to the invader. The sensation was both
painful and pleasurable. Then, suddenly, the head of Mike's cock popped inside
him. Abel could actually feel his sphincter spread then shrink around the
shaft of the other man's cock.  
  
A realization barged through his brain: _I'm being fucked. By all the saints,
I'm being fucked!_  
  
"Don't push," Mike cautioned as he slowly eased more and more of his shaft
into Abel's rectum. He settled his hands to the rough, dirty wall just above
Abel's. "Get used to the way it feels."  
  
Abel winced, shifting back and forth on his feet. "It hurts a little," he
managed to say.  
  
"It'll go away," Mike assured him. He held still a moment, his cock buried to
the hilt within Abel's ass. The heat of the younger man's body coursed through
his prick.  
  
Carefully, Mike pulled back, looking down to watch as his cock slowly slid
from Abel's anus. But just as the flaring head of his penis appeared, he
pushed back in, making the younger man grunt. Again and again, he penetrated
deeply before withdrawing almost all the way, and each time, the tempo
increased.  
  
Soon, Abel was trembling with each deliciously rough spearing of Mike's cock
in his ass. He found himself wanting to feel the slip-sliding motions of the
other man's shaft within him, just as he found that his own penis swelled and
throbbed, bobbing between his legs and begging for attention. On reflex, he
slapped his hand around his shaft and stroked wildly, thus adding to his own
pleasure.  
  
"Yeah, you're getting into now, aren't you?" Mike seethed in his ear,
hammering harder and faster. Flesh smacked against flesh in a rhythmic
symphony of manly lust.  
  
"Yes!" whimpered Abel, face twisted against the stuccoed wall.  
  
"Jack that cock for me, Abel," Mike urged. "I know you wanna come. Just like I
wanna come inside you."  
  
Abel groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He could not believe how aroused he
was, how incredible it was to feel the harsh, rapid intrusion of another man's
penis inside him. Heat flashed like a wildfire through his groin. His cock
vibrated like a tremolo. He was seconds from eruption.  
  
"Come with me," Mike hissed, fucking with fierce, hard shoves. "Come with me,
Abel!"  
  
Just a few more strokes, and Abel was convulsing with passion. "God!" he
exclaimed, his dick pulsing and erupting, gushing thick gouts of semen that
splattered forcefully against the wall before him.  
  
Lost to his body-wracking pleasure, Abel only peripherally acknowledged the
sudden burst of liquid heat within his bowels as Mike cried out his own
orgasm. The previously unknown sensation of another man ejaculating inside him
only fueled Abel's rush, nearly making him black out.  
  
The weight of his lover pressed against him, Abel panted heavily against the
coarse surface. His penis dripped orgasmic residue to the ground below as it
softened. Mike's cock throbbed a few times in his ass, then weakened and
slowly slipped free. Dribbles of fluid trickled down over Abel's taut
testicles.  
  
The two men breathed heavily as they recovered. Abel bowed his head, looking
upon the splashes of his seed upon the wall and ground, then at the milky
puddle forming between his feet.  
  
"We need . . . to get . . . back to . . . the ship," he managed to say.  
  
Mike kissed his shoulder. "Yes, we do," he agreed.  
  
* * * *  
  
They lay out in the sun on one of the decks, pampered by waiters bringing
bottles of cold beer and stewards stopping by with misters to keep them cool.
Abel felt relaxed and fulfilled; a fantasy he had always harbored deep within
his libido had finally been satisfied. A sense of self-embarrassment plagued
him, however, blossoming into worry. _What if I want more sex with men? What
if, after this cruise, and Ilse and I return home . . . I want more?_  
  
A pair of soft feminine hands startled him for an instant, but he relaxed and
smiled when his wife, standing behind him, nuzzled his ear. "We're back," she
whispered.  
  
Abel touched her arm, held her hand as she came around into view and sat on
the edge of his deck chair. "Did you have fun?" he asked her.  
  
Color rose to her cheeks. She was coy about meeting his gaze. "We just went
shopping," she commented.  
  
He cocked his head. "Did you get something to eat?"  
  
"Oh, did we ever," Jessica chimed in, pulling a deck chair close to her
husband's. "Didn't we, Ilse baby?"  
  
The blonde's blush deepened. She did not answer right away, but her expression
was telling. For Abel, the implication of Jessica's words -- and the sultry
image of his wife going down on another woman, somewhere in Freeport -- made
his arousal spike. Especially once his wife did speak.  
  
"It was delicious," she whispered, looking her husband in the eye.  
  
* * * *  
  
The uninhibited revelry continued throughout the rest of the trip. More than
sharing each other sexually with the other couple, Abel and Ilse shared the
stories of their lives and learned more about that of Mike and Jessica. That
they were so free and unrestrained was a source of wonder and jealousy for the
Amish newlyweds. The lifestyle the Floridian swingers lived was nothing like
what awaited Abel and Ilse in Pennsylvania.  

"We're really going back home tomorrow, aren't we?" Ilse bemoaned as she and
Abel sat upon the balcony of their little room. For their last evening on
board the ship, the young couple said they wanted to spend it alone.  
  
"We don't have a choice," Abel said. "It's our life, Ilse. Our families are
waiting for us. We have obligations."  
  
She nodded sadly. "We won't be able to act the way we are now when we go
home," she lamented. "I'm going to have to go back to being the good, quiet
little wife."  
  
Abel smiled. "I'm sure I could forgive the occasional indiscretion."  
  
She slipped her arms around him. "It's almost too strange to say it, but I'm
going to miss them. Jessica and Mike, I mean."  
  
Abel chuckled. "Me, too." He drew in a heavy breath and let it out. _Me, too .
. . ._  
  
* * * *  
  
Late the following morning, Abel stood before the window in the cabin, clad
once more in his conservative, traditional suit. It seemed so much more bland
now, given the freedom of dress he and Ilse had enjoyed the previous week.
Even in the air conditioned cabin, the straight-legged slacks, simple shirt,
suspenders and jacket felt stifling.  
  
"At least we have these wonderful memories to take home with us," Ilse said as
she tightened the bow on her dress.  
  
Abel nodded with a sage smile to his wife. "Yes, we do."  
  
Hefting their single bag, Abel left the cabin with his wife dutifully behind
him, already falling into the docile role she would play for the rest of her
life. As had happened when they first came on board, odd looks were cast their
way. While Abel had paid them little heed before, he was now annoyed.  
  
Every step away from the ship felt heavier than the last. Both Abel and his
wife looked back in longing, hoping for something magical to happen that would
suddenly change their fortunes and whisk them back into a life of hedonism.  
  
"It's too bad we couldn't say good bye to Mike and Jessica," Abel remarked as
he looked for a taxi. "They must have gotten off the ship early."  
  
"They don't have any reason to hate going home," Jessica said quietly.  
  
Abel soured. He did not want to go home any more than his wife did, but he was
prepared for it. He told himself that their obligations to their community
were more important than personal desires. Once home, he reasoned, their heavy
hearts would lift back up amid the simple honesty of the Amish way of life.  
  
"Hey, you two!" called a familiar voice as a white sedan pulled to a stop at
the curb. "Need a ride?"  
  
Abel chuckled, genuinely glad to see Mike and Jessica. A quick glance to the
hopeful face of his wife was all he needed to decide.  
  
"Sure," Abel answered, reaching for the back door. "We don't have to be at the
airport until five."  
  
"Airport, huh?" Mike asked, then gave his wife a knowing look. She stared
back, impish smile growing across her face.  
  
"Let's make a little stop, then," she said.  
  
Abel and Ilse shrugged. "Um . . . okay."  
  
* * * *  
  
The letter arrived three days later. Hiram Petermann kept it from the others,
who had been worrying themselves over the previous days due to the failure of
Abel and Ilse to return. But the elder Petermann had not been worried. He had
not been surprised. And now, here was the reason.  
  
By the light of a lantern in the window of the house, Hiram unfolded the
single page. It had been respectfully rendered in Pennsylvania Deutsch.  
  
_"&lt;Dear Father,_  
  
_By now, of course, you know Ilse and I have not returned from our honeymoon.
We simply could not come home, not yet. We will, but I feel I owe it to my
wife to allow her to enjoy her own Rumspringa, in a way._  
  
_Please do not worry for us. We have met some friends, and will stay with
them. Trust in my judgment, Father. We are not abandoning our community, only
delaying our return. Without the opportunity to fully satisfy our indulgences,
we would not be able to faithfully serve God and our community._  
  
_When we do return, it will be with glad hearts._  
  
_Your Son,_  
  
_Abel Petermann.&gt;"_  
  
Hiram folded the letter and replaced it within the envelope. Tired eyes looked
out upon the darkened countryside in contemplation.  
  
"&lt;Did he say when they will be coming home?&gt;"  
  
Hiram turned to his wife, small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He
could not be surprised at his wife's deduction; she was the the craftiest and
most observant woman he had ever known. "&lt;No, but they will.&gt;"  
  
His wife cocked her head. Behind closed doors the elder couple were much more
casual with one another than they were in public. "&lt;As does the father, so
does the son,&gt;" she remarked.  
  
Hiram nodded. "&lt;Indeed, my love. Indeed.&gt;"  
  
_-fin-_




End file.

