Cruise Ship Swap

It was the last night of the cruise, and the hum of the ship's engines had become something I barely noticed anymore. A kind of underwater heartbeat, pulsing steadily as we floated somewhere off the coast of France. I was in the corner booth of the ship's smaller bar with Alfie, nursing a beer and trying not to think too hard about what we were heading back to.

It had been a good trip. A great trip, actually. Warm weather, endless buffets, laughably awkward dance classes, and a fair amount of sunburn. But Alfie and I had spent half the time joking about the cabin--or more accurately, the shoebox they called a cabin. No windows. No fresh air. No sense of time. Just two single beds near the bathroom and a pair of pull-out sofa beds a few feet deeper in.

Julia and Louisa had taken the single beds right from the first night. It had seemed logical and, I guess some old-school notion of chivalry contributed to the decision too. Alfie had grumbled but gone along with it. I didn't mind. Or at least, I didn't think I did.

Until night after night passed without more than a goodnight kiss. Until the novelty of cruising wore off and I found myself acutely aware of how close we were and how far apart we were at the same time.

Alfie sipped his rum and coke, elbow resting on the sticky table, grinning to himself. That grin usually meant he was about to say something wildly inappropriate or get us into trouble. "You ever think about how easy it'd be to climb into the wrong bed in that pitch-black box they've stuck us in?"

I gave him a look. "What, like by accident?"

He shrugged, a smirk still tugging at his mouth. "Sure. Accident. Total darkness. Same size girls. Could happen."

"Julia's got red hair. Louisa's blonde. Even in the dark, you'd notice."

"Not in that room. You couldn't see your own hand in front of your face."

I laughed despite myself. "You're insane."

"Tell me you haven't thought about it. Just a bit."

"I haven't."

He leaned in slightly. "Well, I have. And I think we've earned a bit of fun tonight. Last night, remember? No one's gonna know."

I stared at him, trying to figure out whether he was messing around or not. Alfie had that gift--saying the outrageous with just enough seriousness that you never quite knew when he was joking.

A sudden burst of applause interrupted us. We both turned toward the tiny raised platform where a man in a glittery jacket was pulling a woman out of the crowd for a game involving balloons and a blindfold. It was loud and ridiculous and gave me a much-needed break from Alfie's insinuations. I took another sip of my beer, eyes following the bouncing balloon and the host's exaggerated antics.

Alfie leaned back, stretching his arms. "This place is mad."

"It is," I said, grateful for the distraction.

He nodded toward the makeshift stage. "Wouldn't mind blindfolding Louisa sometime. See what happens."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're full of ideas tonight."

He grinned again. "Just trying to make memories. What happens on the cruise..."

"Stays in the cruise cabin?"

He chuckled, and for a moment I thought maybe it was all just banter. That we'd go back, brush our teeth, climb into our separate, equally unromantic beds and call it a night.

Then he finished his drink and stood up. "Let's go."

I couldn't tell whether it was the rum, the ridiculous idea, or the way the night suddenly felt heavy with possibility, but I followed him out of the bar without another word.

The corridor to our cabin was quiet. Carpeted hush, dim golden lights, the occasional creak of the ship shifting slightly. When Alfie slid the key card into the door, a sliver of light from the hallway cut across the two single beds.

Julia was in the left one, curled up on her side. Her red hair spilled across the pillow like a soft flame, catching the light in flickers of copper and gold. She wore pale blue cotton pajamas, the top slightly loose but the sleeves snug around her slender arms. Her legs, long and lean, peeked out from under the covers, smooth and pale against the crisp white sheets. Even in sleep, there was a grace to her -- delicate collarbones visible above the pajama neckline, and the faintest hint of a curve beneath the fabric, suggesting a quiet, natural beauty.

On the right bed lay Louisa, sprawled with one bare arm thrown up lazily across her forehead. She wore a loose white tee shirt that fell just past her hips, paired with navy cotton shorts that showed off her toned, sun-kissed legs. Her blonde hair was tousled, strands catching the soft light as she shifted slightly. Louisa's figure was more athletic than Julia's -- strong shoulders, a firm waist, and curves that hinted at strength and confidence. The tee clung gently to her, revealing the outline of her breasts in a way that was casual, unintentional, but impossible not to notice.

And then the door shut.

Total blackness.

I moved carefully, peeling off my shirt, trying to keep my hands steady. The quiet rustle of sheets told me Alfie was already climbing into the bed I was supposed to be in. My heart thumped hard as I hesitated by Louisa's bed, not wanting to disturb her. Slowly, almost like I was stepping on glass, I eased myself down onto the mattress beside her, careful to avoid touching her. The warmth of the bed seeped in, but I kept my distance, waiting, uncertain..

For a long moment, there was only the steady hum of the ship beneath us, the quiet thrum like a heartbeat in the dark. I stayed still, barely daring to breathe, listening to the spaces between the sounds.

Then, a soft rustle--a gentle shift of fabric. I caught the faintest noise. Could that be his hand moving up under her pajama top? Another pause. A barely audible sigh, soft and warm, floating through the dark.

Gradually, her breathing changed, slowed, deepened--like she was trying to hold still, to keep quiet. The rise and fall of it was slow, almost teasing. I imagined Alfie's hand moving carefully, fingers grazing--maybe tracing the curve of her breasts beneath the thin cotton, slowly reaching her nipples. The thought sent a sharp twist through me.

Julia's breasts were small, perfect handfuls--sensitive too. A little flick and she'd arch her back and gasp, every time.

The slow, deep breathing continued, but now it sounded shakier, a little tremble catching at the end of each breath. More tremulous. Was he teasing her nipples? She loved that--especially when someone used just the pads of their fingers, circling until she squirmed. Was that what he was doing to her now?

Whatever it was, she sounded like she was enjoying it. Then--another soft shift of fabric. A breath hitched. The faintest catch of air between parted lips.

A long, quiet drag of skin on cotton. Her thighs moving? Spreading?

I heard a tiny, helpless sound--half sigh, half whimper--and then silence again.

I held my breath.

There was a sharp intake of air, then a noise--soft, wet, unmistakably intimate. A stifled moan followed, quiet but unguarded. Julia! That moan--I knew it. Julia never made that sound unless someone had their fingers between her legs. My stomach twisted.

Then came more of it--faint, slick sounds, barely audible, but unmistakable once you knew what to listen for. The wet slide of fingers moving slowly, steadily. Her breath hitched again, then deepened--drawn in through her nose, released in a shaky exhale. Trying to stay quiet. Trying not to give it away.

I could picture it. Alfie's hand moving between her thighs, fingers parting her gently, teasing her open. Stroking her just right, slow circles, maybe dipping inside just enough to make her squirm. I remembered that feeling--how warm she got, how wet. How she'd bite her lip and arch her hips toward my hand without even knowing she was doing it.

She let out another tiny whimper, muffled by the pillow maybe, or a hand. Her breathing grew more erratic, little gasps creeping in, closer together now. She was close--she had to be.

Then--stillness. A pause. The sounds stopped for a moment, the room falling into hushed anticipation. I held my breath again.

Another shift. Sheets moved again, quietly but with purpose.

And then it came. A sharp, surprised gasp from her--sharper than the others. Her body shifting slightly, another soft moan breaking free, lower this time, almost helpless.

Was that it? Was he inside her?

A beat of silence, as if the room was holding its breath along with me

A rhythmic creak started, faint and slow. Was Alfie on top of her now? Or behind her? I tried to picture it--his hands on her hips, her pyjamas bunched around her thighs, sliding his cock into her. The creaking quickened, matched by breathy gasps, a rising tide of slick, wet sounds. Jesus--he was shagging her. Right there. Julia was getting railed in the bed I was supposed to be in.

My cock stiffened, helplessly, shamefully.

And then, a hand brushed my thigh.

Louisa.

She shifted closer, her fingers finding my stomach, then curling around my cock with a slow, sure grip. I stifled a groan. Her touch was confident, deliberate, but delicate and I enjoyed the feelings it produced. Then she swiftly slid under the sheet.

Her mouth was on me in seconds--warm, wet, perfect. She licked up the shaft, teased the head, then took me all the way in, her tongue swirling while her hand worked the base. I lay there, barely breathing, all the more turned on by the filthy soundtrack from the next bed. Julia--my Julia--was panting now, Alfie grunting beside her, their rhythm building fast.

Louisa sucked me slow and deep, moaning softly as if enjoying it just as much as me. I found that hard to believe.

I must have been getting better at interpreting sounds in the dark, as it seemed obvious that what I then heard was Louisa wriggling out of her shorts. Then she swiftly climbed up and straddled me, guiding me in with a slick slide that made both of us gasp.

She lithely rode me with long, grinding thrusts, her hips rolling in lazy circles. I gripped her waist, thrusting up into her, her tits brushing my chest as she leaned down to kiss my neck. When had she taken off her t-shirt? I must have missed that sound. As she rode, she clenched around me, squeezing tighter every time I bottomed out.

Next to us, Julia let out a louder moan--high-pitched and desperate. Alfie was clearly fucking her hard now, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the tiny room.

Louisa's breath was hot in my ear. I grunted and grabbed her arse, slamming up into her faster, harder.

I was dimly aware that the fucking noises from the next bed had stopped and the loudest sound in the room now came from me and Louisa as we moved together. I guess Alfie and Julia had finished.

Suddenly, Louisa's breath caught, her body stiffening and she came, shuddering on top of me with a strangled whimper.

After that I didn't last long as I buried myself deep, groaning as I spilled inside her.

We stayed tangled for a minute, both of us sweaty and gasping. Then Louisa shifted, slipping off me with the same gentle care she'd shown all along. She eased down beside me, her breath still warm against my skin.

No words. Just the sound of quiet breathing, the soft rustle of sheets.

My heart was hammering in the silence as I stayed still, trying to steady myself. For a long while we all just lay there, in the silence. Then I slowly slid out of bed, moving carefully in the dark. I hesitated at the foot of Louisa's bed, the blackness pressing in.

From the other side of the room, I heard it too--soft movements, the faint creak of a mattress as Alfie shifted. For a moment it was like we were in sync, both of us getting out of the girls' beds at the same time.

I stepped away quietly and carefully made my way back to my own sofa bed, sinking down with a careful, slow breath, trying not to make a sound.

Next to me, I heard the sounds of Alfie doing the same, slipping back onto his own sofa bed, soft and careful.

No words.

Just the quiet hum of the ship, and the darkness wrapping around us.

...

The next morning, I woke with the ship already docked. Bright, efficient announcements filtered through the intercom: passengers in Deck 9 could disembark, breakfast was being served in the main dining room until 9:30, and thank you for cruising.

None of us said anything about the night.

Julia and Louisa moved around the cramped cabin quietly, folding clothes, zipping up bags, brushing hair. Alfie made some offhand remark about the breakfast queue being murder. I nodded along, trying not to watch Julia too closely, not sure what her occasional side-glance meant. There was no teasing smile, no knowing wink. Just her usual calm, collected self.

We wheeled our suitcases down the gangway, the sea air sharper now that we were back in port. Before they left, the four of us came together for goodbye hugs -- brief, a little awkward but warm. Julia pulled Alfie close for a quick squeeze, then turned to Louisa

Finally Louisa slipped her arms around me, her breath close to my ear as she murmured, "Well... that was something, wasn't it?"

Her words hung between us -- teasing, maybe knowing, but not clear enough to be sure.

My heart jumped. Did she mean what I thought? And if she did, did Julia know too? Had Louisa told her? The questions twisted inside me, but I kept quiet.

"See you soon!" Alfie called, breaking the moment.

Louisa smiled at Julia and me, then turned heading towards the train station.

"Safe journey," she said softly.

And then it was just us.

We walked to our car in silence, the early morning sun low behind us. I unlocked the doors, loaded the bags, and got in behind the wheel.

Before I could start the engine, Julia leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"Next time," she said softly, buckling her seatbelt, "let's turn the lights on."