by Roz Lee
Tonight Candace was by his side, his wife, his lover, his everything. Once, he’d thought his money and the Lothario were his everything. He supposed having more money than he could spend in a couple of lifetimes was good, if you didn’t let it define you, and after a short period of hating the ship and all it represented, he’d come to an understanding about that too. The Lothario had brought him Candace, and for that, it would always have a place in his heart. He thought Richard felt the same way now that he’d found Fallon. They’d discussed selling the ship once, but neither one of them was ready to let go of it anytime soon now.
Ryan pressed his hand to the small of Candace’s back and steered her through the revelers to the secluded arbor enclave reserved exclusively for the ship’s owners. Seeing a ship full of people more or less dressed always struck him as odd. The Lothario was clothing optional, and what the ship provided in the way of clothing for the passengers wasn’t much, except on this one night when Wardrobe made available every conceivable costume. He’d been surprised, and a little turned on, when Candace revealed their costumes for tonight. He’d been suspicious when Fallon and Richard had met them at Triton, one of the small, exclusive restaurants, wearing the same get-up. But so far, nothing had come of his worries. Perhaps he’d been worried for nothing.
They settled into the cozy alcove, Richard and Ryan on the ends, Fallon and Candace sandwiched between them. Tiny lights in the artificial grape arbor mimicked a starry night outdoors with the luxury of red velvet cushions and gauzy veils to obscure them from the masses of costumed revelers. Richard ordered a bottle of wine from his private reserve, and a maenad wearing a wreath of grape leaves on her head and not a stitch of clothing, brought them a tray of fruit, cheese and crackers. Both men turned down her offer of other appetizers.
“I’ve never been here when the Bacchanal was in full swing. Ryan told me about it, but I thought he was exaggerating.” Candace watched what could only be described as an orgy, from the safety of Ryan’s embrace. “I see he wasn’t.”
“If it bothers you, we can go somewhere else,” Ryan offered.
“No. I’m getting used to this ship. I used to wonder how Ryan could say it didn’t affect him anymore, but I think I’m beginning to understand. It’s kinda like watching porn without the awful music.”
Richard laughed. “What do you know about watching porn?”
“I’ve seen a few. I’m not that naïve.”
They all laughed at Candace’s statement. Up until a year ago when she’d first sailed on the Lothario, she’d been that naïve, and then some. Ryan had had the pleasure of educating her, and she’d turned out to be an inquisitive student and a quick learner. Ryan squeezed her tighter against his side. “Who needs porn when you have the Lothario?”
When their wine arrived, Richard poured, and they nibbled on cubed cheese, grapes and crackers while they talked about the plans for the new island resort that was under construction on one of the small islands they owned in the Caribbean. Ryan was just beginning to relax when Jason, the new Cruise Director, arrived. He glanced nervously inside the alcove, and apparently decided it was okay to interrupt, blurted out, “Mr. Wolfe, sir? I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, but they’re at it again.”
“Who’s at what, again?” Ryan asked.
Richard stood. “I’ll take care of it, Jason. Where are they this time?”
“Uh. . . the aft crew deck. You better hurry, sir.”
“I’ll be right there,” Richard dismissed Jason who looked like someone had saved him from walking the plank.
“What’s going on?” Ryan demanded.
“It’s Drew and Bree. They’re fighting again.”
“I thought you said they were doing a great job.”
“I did. They are. They just have trouble getting along on a personal level. Sometimes it erupts into an all out war. I won’t be long.” He pointed an index finger at Fallon. “You behave yourself while I’m gone.” His eyes met Ryan’s over her head. “Feel free to spank her if she gets out of line.”
Ryan stared after him until Richard was out of site. Drew and Bree? Fighting? He turned to Fallon, hoping she could clarify what was going on. “What. . . .”
* * * * *
Richard cursed under his breath with every step. Leaving Fallon on her own tonight was so not a good idea. His wife was up to something. He knew it as surely as he knew he was going to fire Drew and Bree if they couldn’t find a way to get along. They were both very good at their jobs, but on a personal level, they fought like a couple of junior high kids. Richard covered the distance to the aft crew deck as quickly as possible. It was tempting to let the two idiots fight it out, but their fights didn’t set a good example for the rest of the crew.
“Well, I don’t give a good goddamned what you think Mr. I’ve-got-my-head-up-my-ass, Whitcomb!” Bree Stanton, the ship’s Security Officer, yelled.
“Take it back!” Drew Whitcomb, the ship’s Operations Manager, yelled back at her.
Richard stopped in his tracks. A crowd shielded the combatants from his view. He pushed his way through the throng, dispersing them with a look, and a reminder that their break was over. He’d never seen two adults behave as childishly as these two, and on the Lothario, he’d pretty much seen everything. He didn’t have time for this. God only knew what Fallon was up to in his absence.
“Hold it!” He stepped between the warring factions. “Enough, both of you.” For once, he was grateful he was wearing a business suit, rather than the usual crew sarong or shorts. With a little luck, the suit would add some authority to his presence. Lord knew, these two had ignored all his previous warnings. He saw no choice. If they continued to behave like adolescents, he’d treat them like adolescents. “That’s it. I’ve had it with both of you. Be in my office as soon as we dock tomorrow. No excuses. For now, go to your cabins and stay there.”
They both opened their mouths to protest, but Richard shook his head. The stern look on his face must have convinced them he meant business. They shut their mouths without uttering a single word. “Go. Now. Before I do something I might regret, like fire you both right this minute.” He felt the heated glare from both of them as they contemplated whether to renew their grievances with each other or follow his orders. After a long, uncomfortable minute, Bree left with a humph, followed shortly by Drew.
Richard took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He really didn’t want to fire either one, but this behavior couldn’t go on. It was bad for crew morale, not to mention it took a hell of a lot of his time to deal with it. He hadn’t mentioned it to Ryan because the two really were good at their jobs, but it seemed he was going to have to call for backup, and that meant telling his business partner.
After reassuring the remaining staffers that all was well, he spent an extra minute his internal clock told him he didn’t have, talking to his employees. Being accessible to the staff was something he and Ryan prided themselves on.
Richard hurried back to Dionysus. He refused to make eye contact with anyone along the way. Unease tightened the muscles in the back of his neck. As much as he loved Fallon, the woman was headstrong at times. It was a quality he both admired and feared, admired because she went after what she wanted, and feared for the very same reason.
“Shit, Fallon!”
His wife rose from her place between Candace’s thighs and smiled up at him. Her face glistened with his best friend’s wife’s juices. Anger flared hot and he clenched his fists and his jaw before he did or said something he’d regret. His patience had been stretched to the limit already, now he’d probably have to do damage control with his best friend, who surprisingly didn’t look all that pissed.
Ryan sat with his back to the plush chaise. His wife sat between his outstretched legs with her back against his chest. Ryan’s hands covered Candace’s ample, and bare, breasts. He continued to massage them without visible concern that Richard had returned. Candace’s little plaid schoolgirl skirt was hiked to her waist, her panti
es hung from one ankle. Richard told his cock to stand down, but the sight of her shaved pussy, all wet from Fallon’s attention, made him hard as a post. Shit.
“Professor Wolfe?” Ryan drew Richard’s attention. “I think these two have earned a trip to the Head Master’s office, don’t you?”
Oh, shit. Ryan couldn’t mean what Richard thought he meant, could he? “I. . . His cock turned from wood to steel. Holy crap. His gaze flicked from Ryan’s wicked grin, to the tempting flesh Candace made no attempt to cover, to Fallon’s Cheshire cat face. It was only role-playing. He tried to convince himself it didn’t mean anything. “I think the evidence speaks for itself, Professor Callahan. Ms. Wolfe, Ms. Callahan, report to the Head Master’s office, immediately.”
Fallon winked at him and reached out a hand to help Candace to her feet. Candace pulled her panties up and smoothed her skirt down. While Fallon helped Candace button her blouse, Richard chanced a look at Ryan. His friend lifted one corner of his mouth in a smirk Richard recognized from their bachelor days.
They’d played this game before, but that was years ago, and the women involved were not their wives. Hell, he didn’t even remember the women’s names, if he’d ever known them. He wasn’t even sure which country they’d been in—not a testament to their character, but he and Ryan had both changed a lot since those days. For now, he’d go along with whatever Ryan had in mind. The wives seemed to be in agreement also—probably not a good sign, he surmised. As arousing as the whole thing was, Richard steeled himself for the explosion. There had to be one coming. A powder keg like this one only needed one spark to set it off, but for the life of him, he couldn’t stop himself from playing with the matches.
Chapter Five
They made their way to Richard’s office, the women holding hands and walking ahead of the men. Ryan hadn’t been in Richard’s new office. Richard had turned over both his office and his Cruise Director position to Jason over a year ago and moved his operations to the spare bedroom in his suite. Large enough to hold a king-sized bed, it was more than big enough for the carved mahogany desk that occupied one end, and the small seating area facing the glass balcony door.
Fallon and Candace sank onto the sofa, huddled together like two wide-eyed schoolgirls who knew they’d done wrong. Ryan closed the door and leaned against it. He’d started this in motion, but now that the ship had sailed, he wasn’t sure who the skipper was. He wasn’t even sure all the passengers wanted to be aboard. “If anyone wants out of this, now would be a good time to speak up.” His voice broke the barrier of silence, but still, no one spoke. “Since no one has any reservations, I think we should proceed.” He turned to Richard who’d taken up residence behind his desk. “Professor Wolfe, these students have misbehaved. What kind of punishment should they receive?”
Richard paced around his desk. He leaned on the front edge and crossed his arms over his chest. “I came late to the party. How bad were they, Professor Callahan?”
Ryan joined Richard, mimicking his stance. “They were very bad.” He emphasized the word very and the women shrank further into the sofa. He had to give them credit, they were playing their roles to the max.
“I think they should show me what they were doing, so I can better know how to punish them.”
Ryan smiled. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Ladies, show Professor Wolfe what he missed.”
“Oh, but. . . .” Fallon began.
“No excuses. Show me,” Richard insisted.
Ryan didn’t dare look at Richard. In truth, Richard hadn’t missed much, but heaven only knew what their wives would have done if they’d been given more time. Now they had all the time in the world, and a lot more privacy. His cock had been hard ever since he’d glanced over and found Fallon stripping off his wife’s white cotton boy shorts. Candace had leaned into him, and he’d cradled her while Fallon feasted. He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off his wife, or his eyes off Fallon with her face buried against Candace’s pussy.
Candace scooted to the edge of the sofa. Fallon went to her knees on the floor beside her. As if she handled spun glass, Fallon slid her hands under Candace’s short plaid skirt and flicked it up. Even from this distance, Ryan could see the damp patch on her crotch. He inhaled deeply and caught a whiff of his wife’s unique scent, mingled with another musky tone. Fallon. His blood boiled. Dear God, it wasn’t right to be aroused by another woman’s scent, especially not Fallon Wolfe’s, but his erection told him otherwise. From this angle, he had a perfect view of Fallon’s ass, covered by little white boy shorts identical to his wife’s. God, she had a great ass. Slimmer than Candace’s, but her butt cheeks were firm and round, and it didn’t take much imagination to conjure up an image of what her pussy looked like beneath that prim white cotton.
Richard’s voice snapped Ryan out of his carnal musings. “Is this what they were doing, Professor Callahan?”
“Yes, that’s pretty much it, except I believe Ms. Callahan had her blouse open.”
“Open it,” Richard ordered.
Candace darted a questioning look at Ryan. He nodded his assent, and she slipped the top button from its moorings. In a moment, her blouse gaped open from neck to waist, exposing her breasts. God, he loved her breasts. They weren’t enormous, but they were a handful, and their ruby tips were hard, calling his name.
“Touch them,” Richard said.
Candace cupped her breasts. She rolled them gently in her hands and stroked her thumbs over her nipples until Ryan thought he might die if he didn’t get to taste them soon. Fallon continued her oral explorations between Candace’s legs.
“That’s enough. I think Professor Wolfe gets the idea.”
Fallon stopped what she was doing, but remained on her knees. Candace’s shaved mound glistened with moisture, and her hands paused on her breasts.
“They were very naughty, Professor Callahan. This type of behavior can’t be ignored. Twenty licks each?” Richard asked.
“Maybe there’s a way they can convince us to reduce their sentence,” Ryan suggested.
“Perhaps.” Richard twisted around and picked up the telephone on his desk. He punched in the number and waited. “Hello Lauren, this is Mr. Wolfe. Can you send up a Principal’s Paddle to my office? Yes, that will be fine. Thank you.” He hung up the phone and turned back to face the women. “It will be about fifteen minutes before the paddle gets here. What do you suggest, Professor Callahan?”
“Ladies, would you like to have your sentence cut in half? Ten blows instead of twenty?”
They both stood quickly. “Yes, sir,” Candace said. “We’ll do anything you say.” Fallon nodded her agreement.
“Very well. Come over here.” He indicated a spot in the center of the room, facing the desk and they obeyed quickly. Candace stood directly in front of Richard, and Fallon in front of Ryan. Candace had pulled her panties up, but her blouse was still tucked into the waistband of her skirt and gaped open. “I think Ms. Wolfe is overdressed, don’t you?” he inquired of Richard.
“I think you’re correct, Professor Callahan,” Richard answered. “Ms. Wolfe, show us your breasts.” Fallon unbuttoned her blouse and pushed the sides open. Her breasts were smaller than Candace’s, but lovely to look at. Ryan gauged their size and knew their weight would satisfy in the palm of his hand. “That’s good,” Richard said. “Professor Callahan, I think we should examine these closer. What do you say?”
“I’m in complete agreement.” They pushed away from the desk and Ryan stepped toward Candace. Richard stopped him. “You examine Ms. Wolfe. I’ll examine Ms. Callahan.”
Their eyes locked for a moment. Ryan thought he might have misheard, what with the sound of his heart pounding like a jackhammer, but Richard raised an eyebrow, daring Ryan to argue. If he went along with Richard, not only would he be touching his best friend’s wife, but Richard would be touching Candace as well. He held Richard’s gaze for what seemed like eternity, sifting through the riot of thoughts and feelings coursing throu
gh his body. God, he wanted to touch Fallon, and he knew Richard wanted to touch Candace, but how did the women feel about it? He was pretty sure Candace didn’t have a problem with it. After all, Richard had touched more than her breasts, but Fallon?
He broke eye contact with Richard and turned to look at Fallon. She smiled a coquet smile at him and parted her blouse further. “You can touch me, Professor Callahan. I’ll do anything to keep from being spanked.”
Ryan placed his hand inside Fallon’s blouse and closed it over soft, warm flesh. Her nipple stabbed his palm. She moaned as he massaged the small mound, and his knees almost gave out on him. God, he couldn’t believe he was touching Fallon Wolfe. It should have felt wrong, but somehow, it didn’t. Not that he didn’t love Candace. He did. More than anything in the world, but he’d known Fallon forever it seemed. She knew a lot about him from the oral sex classes she’d coached him through back when she’d been researching that subject, but he’d never touched her. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. He was a red-blooded male after all.
Beside him, Candace gasped. He jerked his gaze away from Fallon’s breasts. Richard’s head was bent to Candace’s chest. His lovely wife held one breast aloft for him with one hand, and held his head to her with the other. God, she was lovely. Her eyes were closed and her mouth agape. Her back arched with every pull of Richard’s mouth on her breast.
Fallon touched his arm, bringing his attention back to her. “Professor Callahan?” She pinched one nipple between her thumb and forefinger and tugged. “No one has ever done that to me. Would that feel good?”
