Trent and Betsy

Back on the cruise ship, our visit to St. Petersburg complete, we began our westward voyage.

After dinner we danced in the great hall until 11:30 and then went for a stroll around the deck.

On the longest day of the year the sun never really sets on the Baltic. On the starboard side of the ship the midnight sun lay close to the horizon producing a soft glow that entered the water and made a golden path all the way to the hull of the ship.

We both laughed when Betsy said, “Trent darling the sun has rolled out a golden carpet for us. Come on, let’s walk up to the sun and melt together in its golden glow.”

On the port side, shadows spread from the ship into the sea.

At the prow, the wake produced a luxurious white foam that spread over the placid Baltic producing the illusion of fine white lace covering a blanket of black velvet. Having worked its magic, the wake disappeared behind the ship in a giant inverted ‘V.’

We stood on the prow holding each other and watching dark islands pass silently in the night while a headwind arose stirring the sea and sending the ship into a gentle undulating motion.

We when we could see the sun inching its way off the water back into the sky, we walked arm in arm to our suite, on the way enjoying a midnight snack and a glass of wine at the Chocolate Bar.

As I closed the door to our suite Betsy said, “I can still feel the warm breeze on my face and arms. What a lovely tingle! Trent, I want to feel the breeze all over my whole body.”

She moved slowly to the port-side glass door leaving a trail of clothes on the floor as she went. Her graceful legs and petite feet remained visible, illuminated by the light from a single bedside lamp, as she stepped naked into the shadows of the balcony.

On the balcony I kissed her softly and turned her to face the wind. She stood with her arms stretched into a ‘V’ while the breeze caressed her from her forehead to her toes. I began kissing her at the back of her neck and continued until I reached the fold behind her knees; then I lifted her gently and placed her on the feather-filled coverlet from our cabin bed.

Hidden from all eyes but our own by the port-side shadows, and bathed by the warm breeze as the ship moved through the summer air, we made love and the rhythm of the rise and fall of the ship became our rhythm. In the dim light of the cabin lamp I could see an expression of pleasure stealing across her face, an expression that no artist’s brush can capture.

Afterward while we still lay together cradled by our bed of down she looked up at me through dreamy eyes and said, “I feel consumed by the warmth of you, my Midnight Sun. I have no cares and no leftover desires.

“I wish I could make you feel what I feel.

“I wish you could feel what I feel,” she said.

She closed her eyes, sighed and said, “I wish I could purr.”

I said to myself, “I wish I could make all women feel the way you feel.”