The day had finally arrived. Weeks of hopes, dreams and planning had passed and they were finally going to meet.

Phil had met Isabelle on a Lush group and their flirtation had progressed off the site onto the phone. Frequent chats, facetime calls and voice messages had passed between them as they were separated by distance. The distance was a problem; frequently discussed and mutually hated. The problem was that Isabelle lived in upstate New York and Phil on the south coast of England. There had been so many times when they had nearly called it off, but the spark that arose between them was so undeniable on a distant basis, that neither of them wanted to make the final decision to end things. A distance relationship might have been possible, but both of them wanted to allow the connection to grow through regular in-person dates and time. Distance was a bitch!

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into a month and the connection between the two romantic souls grew stronger; a day never passed without some friendly, flirty chat and both felt they might have found their forever partner. However, as the weeks passed, they both grew more frustrated with the distance. In spite of the shared love of the water, the developing distant sex chats and the times they had spent in bed alone at night indulging their fantasies, Phil and Isabelle were apart and the impasse seemed to grow more insurmountable.

One of their regular conversations was about where they would go on holiday if they had the chance. Isabelle expressed the preference for a villa with its own private hot tub; this led to all sorts of suggestive and more directly sexy discussions. Phil favoured the idea of a woodland cabin, also with a hot tub. Their love of the water was invading their private fantasies and got both of them very worked up. And so it continued for a while until Phil, in one of their holiday discussions, mentioned he had intended to go on the Cunard transatlantic crossing for his 50th, but being single and Covid messed that one up. Isabelle thought it was a harmless comment when she said she would love to go away with him for the week. That’s when the ultimate blind date plans started…

Many messages passed between them discussing possibilities, dates and ideas; searching different cruise agendas; both had an instinctive distaste for the idea of one of the huge cruise liners, so MSC, P&O, etc were thrown out of the window as being utterly unsuitable. Phil couldn’t get his mind off his plans for the transatlantic crossing and eventually Isabelle was persuaded that this would be an adventure of a lifetime. As the cruise ended in Southampton, it was incredibly easy for Phil, and New York was an easy journey for Isabelle with Via Rail from Albany. A date was found; 14th April 2025. Phil would take the flight over to New York and have a couple of days in the city before meeting Isabelle at the Cunard terminal on the 14th. They would have six nights together on the ship.

Although they had told their friends and families about their distance relationship, they faced the task of telling them about their travel plans. ‘Are you mad?’ (Phil’s brother). ‘Oh how romantic!’ (Isabelle’s bestie) ‘You know I need to vet her’ (Phil’s daughter) and ‘Are you sure?’ (Isabelle’s sister) were just a selection of responses the couple received from their nearest and dearest. Having placated their friends and families, Phil and Isabelle pressed ahead with their plans.

Their growing closeness had included discussions about sex; whilst it isn’t the most important thing in a relationship, they both knew that a healthy sex life was an indication of a healthy relationship. Some embarrassing and funny conversations were had about favourite positions, sexual likes and dislikes, etc. As a typical man, Phil expressed his keen interest in the giving and receiving of oral sex, whilst Isabelle said which positions enabled her to achieve orgasm most effectively.  Being responsible (open to question with the cruise plan) adults, they both obtained clear STI tests in advance of the cruise; Phil had been snipped some years before, so there were no worries on that score. Whilst they were talking up the physical aspect of their meeting, they were both incredibly nervous about it not working out; performance anxiety is a real thing. Nevertheless, their emotional connection over the phone was so strong they were confident they would feel the spark of attraction when they met.

Isabelle confessed to Phil in a phone call one sunny day that she was worried that he was a massive snorer! Although apparently in the past, Phil had snored, he wasn’t sure it was still a problem as it had been so long since he had shared a bed with a partner. Nevertheless, he had brought several pairs of very expensive and apparently comfortable ear plugs with him just in case. For his part, Phil was concerned that Isabelle would be a duvet and bed hog; he really didn’t relish ending up with a foot on the edge of the bed with no duvet in the middle of the night.

More mundane matters were discussed in the lead up to the cruise, such as which side of the bed they liked to sleep on; Phil had no preference, but Isabelle said she always slept on one side of the bed. This was one potential difficulty avoided. Phil was very concerned about the fact that some mornings he woke up really early and couldn’t get back to sleep; it was his practice to get up when this was the case and wander off to avoid disturbing his partner and he was worried that Isabelle would take offence at waking to an empty bed. She assured him that a couple of hours of undisturbed sleep would be no problem at all.

According to the Cunard website, there are always two gala evenings which required dressing up for dinner. Phil ordered a new DJ and Isabelle some cocktail dresses that would be both comfortable and sexy. Apart from that, it was merely a matter of ensuring their casual clothes were right for the voyage. Neither of them wanted to obscure their view of the sea, so a Britannia balcony room was decided upon; on warm days, they could sit out on the balcony enjoying the world go past in its infinite slowness and majesty. With all meals included, plus Isabelle’s return flights to New York, they were both hoping to minimise the extra costs on board.

As the date of departure grew closer, their nerves heightened as there was so much riding on their first meeting. Frequent and long Facetime conversations took place in order to assure each other of their desire to get it right and have their last, first date.

Phil’s flight from Heathrow was on the 9th April and all went smoothly. Isabelle was due to arrive in the city about 12pm from Albany. Embarkation time was 3pm and the terminal café was the meeting place. Phil was there waiting and Isabelle walked in. Their eyes met. They knew everything was going to be good. The personal connection they had felt all that time before was a reality in person. Nerves faded. Happiness was written all over their faces as they gazed into each other’s eyes for the first time in person.

Their lips touched. A spark of electricity passed between them as over two million nerve endings met. Time stopped and the world faded away. Softly and gently at first, the kiss developed into one of need and desire.

“Excuse me; would you like to order a drink before you check into the ship?” The world rushed into focus and a nervous laugh erupted simultaneously from their mouths as they realised they were holding up the queue for the café. The kiss probably only lasted a few seconds, but in the suspended state of reality in which they had existed, it felt so much longer.

Coffees were ordered, and they sat at a corner table, the conversation flowing freely between them and a growing sexual hunger in their eyes as they attempted small talk.

“When’s check-in?” Isabell was clearly impatient to get on board. The pent-up sexual frustration that had grown over the weeks threatening to bubble over.

“Not soon enough, beautiful lady,” Phil growled in return, his impatience matching hers.

3pm soon arrived, and the couple proceeded to the check-in to complete the final aspects of their embarkation.

“Ms Jansen, Mr Anderson; welcome to Cunard.” The young check-in officer was all smiles and politeness. “I see you booked a Britannia Club Balcony suite, but I am delighted to tell you that you have been upgraded to the Queen’s Club Suite free of charge.”

A look of delighted shock crossed Isabelle’s face, whilst a slow smile of satisfaction crossed Phil’s. This upgrade was worth around £2500! Unbeknownst to Isabelle, Phil had contacted Cunard after their booking was confirmed and explained their story, asking if there was anything the company could do to make their first meeting more special. In all honesty, he had expected something like complimentary champagne and hoped for a small upgrade; never had he even dreamed of being given the best suite level as an upgrade. Clearly someone at Cunard had a romantic soul. “I’ll explain later, my darling,” he whispered in Isabelle’s ear.

“Furthermore, Sir, Madam, the Captain has invited you to dine on his table on Tuesday evening at the Black and White gala evening.” The young lady in front of them had a broad smile on her face; she had been told some details of their trip and could see the clear connection between Phil and Isabelle. “If you leave your luggage here, it will be delivered to your suite. These are your cabin keys, which double as the on-board payment method for any extras you desire to purchase. The Queen’s club butler service is led by Philippe and they will do everything they can to make your stay extra special. Full details of everything are in your suite. I wish you the most wonderful voyage with us and thank you for choosing Cunard for your special trip.”

Isabelle and Phil entered the lift up to the ship hand in hand, both very excited about the coming minutes and hours and days ahead. Upon entering the magnificent Queen Mary II, they approached the desk and handed over their cabin keys for directions. After a quick scan, the young man informed them their suite is 151 on deck 11. “If you walk down this corridor to the aft end of the ship, you will find the lift. Your suite is directly on the right-hand side as you exit the lift. As Queen’s Club guests, your luggage delivery is prioritised and will be there waiting for you. If there is absolutely anything you need during your voyage, ask one of the butlers or approach the information desk in the Grills Lounge, which is exclusively for Princess and Queen’s club travellers.”

Much of this passed the frustrated couple by as they just wanted to get to the suite. With almost indecent haste, they walked down the indicated corridor and called the lift with Isabelle’s card.

“Ms Jansen, Mr Anderson; welcome to the Queen’s club. My name is Andreas, and I am the head butler. Details of the services available to you are in your suite. Please ask me or any of my team should you need anything; just press zero on the telephone and one of us will answer. I understand this is your first voyage with Cunard, so I know you will be very keen to see your suite. Due to a late cancellation, the suite next to yours will be unoccupied for your voyage, so I am sure you will not be disturbed.”

Phil swore under his breath as he was convinced he saw a slight raising of the right side of the man’s mouth: “He bloody well knows!”

Andreas gestured towards the open door; Isabelle and Phil entered a world of unexpected luxury. “Bookings for meals can be made using the supplied iPad in your suite as well as a host of other services available to our Queen’s Club guests. If there is nothing else, I wish you a very pleasant voyage.”

The door closed quietly behind the butler, and they were alone for the first time. “I never thought he was going to shut up,” exclaimed Isabelle.

Their lips met again, searching deeper as their tongues touched.

Phil backed away, his voice deep with lust. “Please, may I undress you? I want to do it slowly and imprint your body in my mind as it has been in my fantasies.” Although frustrated by the slowness of this approach, Isabelle acquiesced.

Phil kissed Isabelle lightly on the lips, then her cheeks, then her ears, whilst removing her bag from her shoulder. His hands moved slowly to unbutton the blouse she was wearing; as each bit of skin was revealed, Phil kissed it. Her shoulders, her arms, her neck, the parts of her breasts not covered by the gorgeous, lacy purple bra. Sliding the blouse from her shoulders, Phil reached round behind Isabelle and felt for the bra clasp; hoping fervently that he could still undo a bra after all this time, he fumbled slightly as he sought the clip. After a moment, the bra opened and he slid it from her arms and dropped it on the floor. Almost instinctively, Isabelle crossed her arms to cover her breasts. “Please don’t,” Phil murmured. “I love your breasts”. Taking time to kiss every inch of her, Phil was delighted to see Isabelle’s nipples were already very erect and he sucked on them gently, provoking a moan from her.

“Dear god, I’m wet,” thought Isabelle as she felt herself release more moisture from between her thighs. Desperate for Phil to make faster progress in one thought and yet relishing the moment in another, she was torn as he moved his hands and tongue down her body. He kissed her stomach and dipped his tongue into her belly button; she jerked as the tickling sensation overcame her. Phil smiled and logged that sensation in his mind. His hands approached the fastening of her jeans and slipped them down a little, revealing the matching lacy top of her purple panties. As he slid the jeans down, he kissed all around her lower belly and across the top of her panties.

Isabelle writhed gently; her entire focus was on Phil’s lips as he explored her body. “I might orgasm from just his touch,” she thought as he continued to expose more of her flesh. The jeans hit the floor and she stepped out of them; he saw a glimpse of a very moist crotch as she lifted her feet out of the jeans and smiled to himself. Purposely ignoring her most intimate areas, Phil moved his lips down Isabelle’s legs, turning them slightly so he could kiss behind her knees. Removing her socks gently, he pressed his lips to the tops of her feet, wondering if she had a foot fetish; he didn’t but he was happy to explore that if she wanted to.

Finally and ever so slowly, Phil eased the panties down her thighs, revealing a beautifully shaped patch of pubic hair which rested above her very engorged labia. With infinite slowness, Phil backed Isabelle towards the bed so she was lying down.

“Please, no, I can’t take any more teasing,” she moaned.

Not needing a second invitation, he dived between her legs, kissing her everywhere from her inner thighs to her pubic mound to her labia. Isabelle writhed her hips, hoping to direct his mouth to where she would gain most pleasure, but to no avail.

“Please,” she moaned. His tongue licked between her labia, enjoying the wetness and taste of her for the first time. His tongue reached her nub and she gasped. “Nobody has ever done this to me before,” she breathed. “I need to cum, please.”

Phil’s lips settled around her clit, and he sucked and licked her with increasing passion as she approached her climax. The waves of pleasure flowed over and through her as she reached her peak with a loud “fuck!”

He slowed down and returned to licking in and around Isabelle’s labia, opening her up as she calmed. He licked patiently, encouraging her to rise again in passion. Unable to hold herself back any longer, she grabbed his head and moved it up to her clit, demanding his attention there again.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.” Her swearing increased in volume as she approached her second climax. Isabelle passed her peak of pleasure once more and slumped, exhausted and sweaty, on the bed.

“No more, please. I can’t take any more. I want you inside me, now,” she moaned.

Phil quickly dropped his clothes on the floor and climbed naked onto the bed. Reaching for his hardness, she whispered, “I will explore your body properly later, but now you need to be inside me.”

With reserves of energy she didn’t know she possessed, Isabelle climbed on top of him and felt him fill her. She knew from their conversations that this was one of his favourite positions and she wanted to look down on him as she gave him just some of the pleasure he had just given her. Slowly and gently, she moved up and down on him, enjoying and savouring their first proper coupling.

“Please let me last a little while,” thought Phil desperately. “Kitchen tiles are nice in white, with an occasional coloured one slipped in. Magnolia for walls is boring and grey is so five years ago.”

Anything to stave off his own climax passed fleetingly through his mind, but to no avail as Isabelle moved faster on top of him.

“I want you to cum in me now; stop holding off. Longer love making can wait. I want to feel you explode inside me.”

Marie could see the desperation on Phil’s face as he succumbed to the inevitable and felt his essence leave his body and enter hers.

Isabelle rolled off him and lay next to him, both breathing heavily. Their kiss was loving and gentle after their exertions.

“I think we’ll be ok,” she murmured quietly to him in between kisses. She turned over, becoming the small spoon and Phil wrapped his strong arms around her, holding her tight in his arms.

“I’m not going to let you go,” he whispered into her ear.

Isabelle smiled and gently faded into a restful sleep, feeling safe and loved.