Author; Bigby

Title; She was perfect except for her cock

Synopsis; A married couple on a cruise encounters the beautiful Abby,
the girl with a dick.

Story codes; M/TS, M/F, wife

She was perfect except for her cock;

As I was waking up, I felt a great relief; it had all been a dream, a
nightmare. Then I opened my eyes, and there she was.
She was still asleep, and even with her eyes closed, hers was perhaps
the most beautiful face I'd ever seen.
The smooth even line of her jaw, the slightly sunken cheeks, the full lips.
A cotton sheet covered her body, but failed to conceal her. The curve
of her hips, the swell of her breasts.
Her flaxen hair fell around her face, emanating from a single point in
the middle of her head. The hair that had been in my hands the night
before as those perfect lips sucked my cock like no lips had before.
We had danced, we had laughed, we had flirted. I couldn't resist her,
I'd cheated on my wife to be with her. Because she was perfect; except
for her cock.

There was a taste in my mouth, sour and unfamiliar. The taste of come.
I really had done it, I'd sucked cock. I couldn't believe it myself,
but there it is; I did it.

My wife and I had decided to take a cruise, to try to find our
relationship again.
We'd only been married about five years, but somehow the magic had
escaped us. We had both wanted children, and when Jody didn't get
pregnant, we went to the clinic, as you do.

Jody was perfectly fertile, the problem was with me. Weak sperm they
said. IVF or a sperm donor they said.
The IVF procedure was expensive, traumatic, and unsuccessful. The only
other option was to use donor sperm, but I didn't want another man to be
the father of my child.

The cruise ship sat the passengers in groups of four for meals. Abby
and Skip were to share a table with us for the voyage.
She was the kind of girl that everyone had to look at; it wasn't her
voluptuous curves, her perfect skin, or her gleaming blond hair. It was
her smile, the way she moved, the music of her laughter.
When she looked into your eyes and smiled, you had to smile back. There
was no choice in the matter.
I remember how I saw her first, I don't think I'll never forget. She
wore a simple black dress that plunged to her feet; it seemed to barely
stay over her breasts, held up by the thinnest of straps over her pale
shoulders. The garment followed her figure; the breasts were generous,
the hips curvaceous yet clearly muscular, the ass perfection itself.
She had glided graciously across the carpeted floor, arm in arm with her
lover. An older man, tall and handsome I suppose.
And so we all became friends; we told each other our stories, we laughed
and enjoyed ourselves.
And flirted.

I couldn't believe that Abby was flirting with me at first. Her eyes
were so bright, her smile so generous. But she was.
At first, it was just that we seemed to share some interests; she was a
movie buff, like I was. We talked together at our table, while her older
lover talked to Jody. It was nice to meet new people.
"So what are you and Abby talking about so intensely this evening?"
Jodie asked as we undressed for bed.
"Movies." I answered.
"I think she fancies you." Jodie said, slightly sullenly.
"I don't think so, not like that." I said.
"Like what?" My wife asked.
I changed the subject.

There was dancing the next evening, and Jodie and I sat at a table
watching. Skip and Abby were burning up the floor, their energy and
grace on open display. She was dressed in pale green, a long slit skirt
opening occasionally to display a perfect nylon clad leg.
"She's very beautiful." Jodie said.
I couldn't deny it.
Our new friends came to sit down with us, glowing but out of breath.
Abby's smile caused my heart rate to increase.
Once more, Skip began to talk to Jodie, and I fell to talking with Abby.
"Do you like to dance?" She asked.
"A little bit," I said, "but Jodie has a bad knee."
"Hey Jodie; do you mind if I dance with your husband?" Abby asked.
My wife looked up at two of us; "Go ahead, have fun." She said.
I knew there would be a price to pay for this, but the thought of
dancing with my arm around the stunning Abby was too irresistible.

In her heels, we were of equal height. We moved together beautifully,
the small of her back thrilling the palm of my hand, her firm breasts as
close as they could be without touching me, her eyes blasting me with
their sparkling light.
It was wonderful, so sexy and perfect; perfect because this was allowed,
it was accepted behavior to dance with another man's woman. We ignored
the reality, that it's all a mating ritual. Tease, flirt, and then stop.
We went back to the table, but Skip and Jodie were no longer there. We
found them out on deck, in animated discussion about some dead German
philosopher.
I put my arm around my wife, and Skip put his around Abby. We walked
about the deck, before returning to our cabins.
I was infatuated, but I resolved to ignore it. I knew I could never
have a woman like her, not to keep. My relationship with Jodie was much
more important to me than a fling with someone who was ultimately
unattainable.

"They're running classic movies in the afternoons down in the theater."
Abby said to me over breakfast.
"What's playing today?" I asked her.
"The Maltese Falcon." she answered.
"I must have seen that 20 times." I said.
"Me too, want to see it again?"
I looked at Jodie; "Oh, go on." She said.
My date was wearing simple slacks and a cotton blouse; she looked
magnificent anyway. We found seats in the dark, nearly empty theater in
the bowels of the ship.
She lifted the armrest between the seats, and snuggled against me. I
put my arm around her.
I could smell her, I could feel her beauty under my hand. At some
point, her face turned up to me; her lips were so close, so luscious, so
desirable. I knew it was wrong, I knew I shouldn't, but I lowered my
head that thin inch. I touched my lips against her lips.
That beautiful rush, the thrill of conquest and danger; I knew I should
pull away, apologize, take my arm from her shoulders. But I was
trapped, my lips couldn't escape the perfect seduction of her mouth.
Just a kiss, after our dancing, what was a kiss?
Kissing is not allowed, we know that. Dancing yes, kissing no. It
doesn't make any sense, but that's our culture.
Her mouth tasted of excitement, of beauty and desire. The skin of her
face was so smooth, the point of her chin seemed to fit into the crook
of my thumb as our lips moved against each other, as our tongues met.
My free hand moved to her breast; so desirable, so full, her nipple
hardening between my thumbs and forefinger.

Her hand went my crotch, and squeezed my hot cock through my jeans.
My own hand began to head south, and I might have found out what was
waiting for me there had the lights not come on.
The movie had ended.

How was the film?" Jodie asked.
"Well, I've seen it so many times you know... what have you been up to?"
"Nothing."
The following morning, Abby asked me again if I'd like to take her to
the movies.
"That is, if you don't mind Jodie." She said.
"Not at all." My wife answered, "I'm glad to get him out of my hair for
a couple of hours. I'm happy he's found someone who likes those old
movies."
As we walked down to the theater, Abby took my hand. Such a simple
thing, so innocent; yet not so.
"What were you thinking yesterday, when you kissed me?" Abby asked.
"That you were the most beautiful woman I've ever met."
She smiled, blushing slightly.
"You know I love Skip, right?"
"Then why were we kissing?"
"I don't know. I didn't plan it, David; I just really like you."
"I like you too, Abby."
"Lots of men come on to me, and I always enjoy flirting." She told me as
we walked down the stairs,
"And dancing, too. But I don't normally let guys kiss me."
"Do you regret it?"
"I'm not sure. It was nice at the time, but it probably left you
thinking about more than kissing."
"Well; yes, it did. But even if nothing else ever happens between us,
nothing physical I mean, I enjoyed kissing you. I don't regret it at all."
"So you would like to. do more than kiss."
We stopped at a turn in the stairwell. We were quite alone. I looked
into her luscious eyes.
"I sure would Abby."
"But you know you can't keep me. It would just be for fun. Afterwards
you would go back to your wife, and I'd go back to Skip."
My heart was pounding just thinking of the possibility of making love
with her.
"Are you serious?"
"So if we did do it, it would be just a fantasy; an illusion." She said.
"What do you mean? If we did it then we would have done it, and it
wouldn't be a fantasy any more.
We continued walking through the bowels of the huge ship.
"Yes it would; because you don't know me. When you get off this boat and
go home with your wife, I'll be just a memory to you. If we were to have
sex just for the thrill, without even the possibility of a relationship,
then it's just about the skin, your body and my body. I'm a fantasy to
you, aren't I?"
"Well; in a way. But you're also real."
"I'm not."
"What do you mean you're not? Not real?"
"That's right. You see my flesh, my hair, my breasts. But that's all,
you make the rest up. You make a fantasy."
"Come on, Abby! We've been talking and hanging out together. I really
like you, I like your spirit."
"Bull. You like what you see. I know what men are like."
We stopped again, and we faced each other in the empty corridor. Her
face was so incredibly lovely, her big blue eyes so intense. I put my
arms around her slim waist, and kissed her.
She responded, pushing her full firm breasts against me, opening her
mouth for my tongue.
Testosterone thundered through my system, nothing else was even slightly
important any more. There was just Abby, the stunning lovely Abby,
kissing me there below decks of this ship as it ploughed through the sea
of life.
She broke away.
"What do you want from me, David?"
"Nothing."
"Bull. You want to fuck me, don't you?"
"Well of course I do! If you want to."
She hesitated for a moment.
"Yes; I do want to." She said. "But you don't. You want to do it with
the Abby you see, not with who I really am."
"God damn, Abby! I like you, I think you're beautiful and sexy and
smart. I don't understand what you're getting at."
"If you really knew me, you wouldn't like me at all." She said, turning
away.
"What are you talking about? Of course I would.
"All right then." She said, turning to look me in the eyes again. "Tell
me you want me just for my personality."
"I do."
"Liar. You want a woman with a willing cunt."
I was quite shocked to hear her talk that way. I wondered what had made
her so bitter.
"I want you." I said, meaning it.
"So you don't care what's between my legs?"
"No."
"Well I do." She said. "I like what's there."
"What's come over you Abby? I thought we were just having fun. Look, I
like you and that's all."
She took my hand and slid it down her belly, towards her crotch.
"You want to feel it?" she asked.
She was wearing a strange expression, angry and afraid. I didn't
understand where this was all coming from.
"Go on, reach right in there between my legs."
She spread her thighs, pushing my hand down between them.
There was something there, a long thick sausage where there should have
been nothing.
I jumped back in shock, staring at the beautiful woman before me,
perfect in every respect; except for her cock.
"Well? Am I still beautiful, sexy, and smart? Do you still want to hang
out with me?"
"Jesus, Abby; I'm in some shock here."
"Come on, let's go watch the movie."