Summer Leigh – Boob Cruise Paradise Pt. 3

Boob Cruise Paradise Pt. 3

Boob Cruise Paradise Pt. 3

What did it mean to sail on the Boob Cruise? It meant staggering to sofa each night at four a.m. and awaking up two hours later for some other day of action and a fresh island. It meant eating at a busy table of Big-Boob shipmates where there’s at not time a silent pont of time. It meant dancing with a scantily-clad cutie who laughed when her greater than run of the mill bra-busters fell out of her dress. It meant looking at a pure dark-skinned sky and noticing the stars love not at all in advance of. It meant the heady scent of suntan lotion and sweat emanating from suntanned girl-flesh. It meant living in your own separate world, and whatsoever was happening back home, well, that didn’t matter. The ship was the world.

This ship, the Star Clipper, sailed to Anguilla, Prickly Pear Island, St. Maarten, Tortola, Virgin Gorda and other islands that most people know about only from trip magazines and television.

This leg of Boob Cruise Paradise kicks off with the morning aerobics class on deck. This daily workout was open to everybody although most of the boyz were still sleeping off the previous night or on their second cup of coffee. A hardly any were on the sidelines watching the large captivating brandish as the angels in their skimpy Health Lap dancing club hawt clothes moved in unison. Morning and early afternoon photo discharges were the dictate of the day, the one and the other on the deck and on Virgin Gorda. The evening was for dinner followed by disrobe unveils performed by the highest exotic dancers and then climaxing with partying all over the ship until early morning. The booze and the juggs flowed freely.

Wrote Chuck, returning passenger and the ship’s log corporalist that year, “To be appropriately blunt, and from talking to the bucks, I guess I speak for everybody who went on Boob Cruise ’98, the merely bad thing about this complete week is leaving! I swear, if anybody were to handcuff all of the passengers and gals to the ship and hand me the key, I’d toss it overboard!”

“I tell everyone that Boob Cruise ’98 was the wildest week of my life,” recalled passenger P.R. “And that includes innumerable Mardi Gras, fraternity parties, bachelor parties and other parties. I came for the honeys, and they were anything I thought they’d be and more, but I also enjoyed my stay due to the great boys I met on the Cruise, the SCORE workers and the whole sailing experience!”

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