All Night Long

by Melissa MacNeal

  You should play this way with Rio. Now there’s a guy who’ll play along!

  There he was, in her thoughts again. The band upped the tempo for a big finish, so Lola straddled the pole to rub herself against it, head thrown back and mouth open to fake a grimace of climax.

  It was Rio DeSilva her flesh responded to. Rio who made her suddenly gush and catch fire—and then cling to the pole and the fantasy until the spasms became too real—too intense—to ignore.

  The crowd simply disappeared. Maybe she got swallowed up in the noise, but all she heard was the beat—of the band, of her heart, of her body moving in a rhythm so in sync with the man who’d laid her out on a table here this morning.

  She was panting, rubbing herself furiously, going over the edge as the Spaniard in her head thrust himself deep inside her, and—

  “Hey, Priestess, let’s keep it real, OK?” Cabana Boy said beside her ear. “Your turn’s over. The next girls are ready to come out.”

  Lola blinked, stunned by the applause and the SeaKeys that clattered onto the stage. If she’d been quicker—more astute—she could’ve grabbed some and noted the names imprinted on them, for future reference.

  But of course Aric was gathering them up to slide them through his scanner, to tabulate the totals she’d accumulated so far.

  Blowing kisses at her fans, who cried, “Come back for the six-o’clock set!” Lola went backstage. Mistress Whips and Miss Kitty and Goldilocks strutted around her on their way to their lockers. Just another day at the orifice for them.

  But as Lola stood out of their way, catching her breath while Zorro ran his calculator, she realized she’d never felt so alive. Was it the music? The applause and approval? The rush of playing her role to the hilt, in disguise?

  Or was it Rio in your head?

  While she’d never been a performer, much less an exhibitionist, she’d found a whole new energy she hadn’t anticipated here. And she desperately wanted to share it with him.

  Aric was gazing at her from behind that lean, mean mask like he’d never seen her before. “Way to go, Priestess. You were dynamite out there.”

  Glancing his way, she caught her reflection in the vanity’s mirror and had to stare for a moment: was that really Lola Wright? The tailored female executive who dressed men for a living?

  A spangled turquoise cap covered her head and hair, while the top half of her face hid behind a silver mask with wings that flared back over her ears. So hot! The outfit and mask gave her a sleekness from head to toe she’d never seen on herself, even though the flared pants and bodice spun from air would never be her choice in the real world.

  Lola’s pulse was pumping through her body and her breathing dove deep; her eyes looked wide and exotic behind the shimmering mask. It startled her when she realized how ethereal, how…stunning she looked.

  She glanced back at Aric. His expression told her she’d mentally checked out for a minute, but she felt too brazen to care.

  “What’s a girl have to do to get fucked around here?” she breathed. “My God, I had a roomful of men hollering for me, wanting me! I’ve been with the captain and you and—and everyone’s getting a piece of it but me! What’s wrong with this picture?”

  The little dressing room went silent. Mistress Whips, who had reapplied her eyeliner, and Goldilocks, refolding her white lace anklets, snickered at each other.

  But another female voice overrode their humor.

  “Well, well, well,” Odette purred as she slinked from her dim corner. “Since the captain has informed me the name of the game is ‘whatever Lola wants,’ I’ll pass your sentiment along to him. We’ll see if we can’t make your evening more…fulfilling, Miss Wright.”

  She seemed to float from the airless room, without visibly moving her legs beneath the silk caftan that draped her body so elegantly. Odette was a lynx on a mission now. Lola wondered if she’d set a whole new trap by blurting out what was on her mind.

  It was Rio she wanted. But he was on duty, wasn’t he?

  From the conversation they’d had in the suite this morning, Lola could guess he wouldn’t be the lover Odette went to fetch. She sat down on the bench beside Aric, taking the flavored water he offered her.

  What sort of black magic would Captain Scandalous and the ominous Odette conjure up now?

  23

  The evening set began at six. As Lola rode her cage into the main room of Whispers, she noted that while some of the men from this afternoon were still here, several new ones had joined them, so the cigar club’s main lounge was downright crowded. She doubted anyone could hear those suggestive whispers coming from the frieze around the wall, for all these other, more strident voices.

  Like a beloved actress going onstage, she sucked herself in, waved regally, and bowed to acknowledge the applause and whistles of the men she’d serviced during her first set. A piano player and a couple more horns had joined the band, and Miss Kitty was stepping out of her cage in the far corner, twirling her boa to the honky-tonk ragtime number they were playing. Goldilocks was leaning out of her cage, swinging her long blonde hair—which gave the customers a good look at her exposed breasts. Mistress Whips had stepped smartly out of her cage; her stilettos tapped along the runway while she smacked men’s eager, reaching hands with her riding crop.

  “And now—by special request—” the cruise director bellowed over the microphone, “we have arranged for the return of the goddess Vahshi, in a command performance on our center stage.”

  The applause was deafening as her cage rolled along the track. She caught Aric’s eye, raising her eyebrow in a question.

  He merely shrugged. If Cabana Boy knew anything, he hid it behind his narrow mask.

  With the spotlights crisscrossing the stage and the heavy haze of cigar smoke hanging like a blanket between the guests and the ceiling, Lola had no idea what she was in for—what sort of command performance was being required of her. It wasn’t like she’d had any training as a dancer or—

  But the music went from ragtime to a seductive Latin beat. The lights lowered, and so did the men’s voices. Lola knew she’d damn well better do something besides standing here, looking clueless.

  So she raised her arms gracefully, letting the rhythm sway her hips and dictate her moves…intuitively moving her body to best advantage. As she was gliding toward the pole, for an encore performance like the one that brought the house down earlier, she caught sight of him. His golden eyes were sending up flares she sensed before she actually saw them.

  Rio.

  He was standing in the entryway, still in his whites, leaning nonchalantly. But there was nothing relaxed about his focus: his gaze penetrated her soul as surely as she wanted him to penetrate her body. And yes, she could read that desire, as well.

  Lola let out her breath, beckoning with an outstretched arm. Still following the beat of the sinuous music the band was playing.

  He stepped forward, to wend his way between the closely packed cocktail tables—

  But then another figure entered the stage from behind her on the right, and another someone approached her from the left. They, too, were masked, lean and gleaming in silver Spandex jumpsuits that rippled with their every step into the spotlight. Their movements were sure and graceful, their bodies attuned to the syncopated beat.

  It was a man and a woman. Or was it?

  Lola strained to see them from her restrictive eye holes, as she kept up her interpretive dance: they were svelte, like ballerinas, yet their silver suits bulged with provocative ridges between their legs.

  Lola blinked. Instinct told her this was Skorpio and Odette, yet—

  She pivoted to get a closer look at them.

  With the spotlights behind her, she could focus more closely—not that it helped much. Damned if they weren’t wearing spangled turquoise caps that covered their hair, just like hers. Same silver masks over the upper halves of their faces, with the same stylized wings. It was magic, the way they mimicked her movements: the thre
e of them appeared to be performing as one for the crowd. Perfectly choreographed and costume-coordinated, like dancers who did this every day.

  But it was sheer lust that radiated from their bodies when they moved in to touch her—to invite her hands into theirs—

  And she was trapped.

  The captain and Odette had her now, in more ways than she cared to think about. Lola felt the triumph in their grips; the sexual energy each sent through her body to the other. That untimely remark about getting fucked had come back to haunt her. And on this adults-only cruise, where “anything goes” passed for acceptable behavior, these two would stop at nothing to entertain this whiskey-swilling, stogy-smoking crowd.

  Aric was moving among the audience near the stage, sliding SeaKeys through his scanner. A slender shadow in black. No help to her at all.

  So Lola could only stay onstage and dance as though nobody was watching…wishing Rio wasn’t, because she suspected Odette had summoned him here on some falsified excuse. So he could see her get turned every which way but loose, by the captain who’d declared her off limits to him.

  Would DeSilva still want her, after whatever they did to her? Dammit, why’d she shoot off her mouth that way, just because she felt jazzed about her first performance?

  Too late to worry about that now. Skorpio’s grin flashed white in the spotlights as he pulled her into his embrace, matching his steps to hers with an innate grace that cast a sorcerer’s spell.

  Or was this Odette? The flashing strobes and crossing spotlights made it difficult for her to distinguish the details of gender. The identical jumpsuits had high turtleneck collars, and their smooth fit across the chest suggested sleek plastic padding.

  Lola refused to bail or cave in. Fighting fire with fire was her only recourse—so she decided these chiseled lips and the hint of five-o’clock shadow belonged on Captain Scandalous.

  “Skorpio,” she whispered, narrowing her eyes at him. “Are we to be lovers at last? Here for everyone to see?”

  “Whatever Lola wants,” a sultry voice replied—but those lips didn’t move, and the words came over the sound system from all directions.

  They were miked! But was this him, or her?

  Lola swiveled to catch the dancer behind her mouthing the words, but she got spun between then in a tight spiral. Had to concentrate on foot placement to keep from falling on her ass.

  The crowd quieted as their dance became tighter and more sexual. The customers, too, were wondering if she danced with two men or a mixed double. Lola caught phrases and speculations, but they did nothing to help her.

  “I dunno…that one’s got a tight little ass.”

  “Yeah, but the other one’s smaller-boned.”

  “But there’s two cocks—and they’re cocked!”

  “Could be strapped on. Hell, maybe it’s two women—can’t see enough facial detail, with those masks and these strobes!”

  Lola knew exactly where they were coming from. All she knew was that under their silver gloves, the hands of the dancer on her right felt larger and stronger than those on her left—but now they spun around her in pirouettes, releasing her hands only long enough to change positions!

  Then things got gritty. While the captain held her—or at least Lola thought it was Skorpio—leading her in a series of erotic moves, Odette approached from behind. Lola felt the flexing of Skorpio’s legs; his heat against her thighs, and the ridge of his dick rubbing her front. Odette was gyrating against her ass with an identical ridge, and Lola’s shoulders were pinned between their two padded chests.

  As one, the three of them moved, undulating to the music in a mesmerizing display of hunger that had the audience holding its collective breath. Speculating. Fantasizing.

  Lola wished she could be out there watching this spectacle, and yet her senses were all on edge as she kept step between them, the goddess Vahshi and her two shimmering silver partners.

  Without warning, Skorpio stepped back, grabbing her hands—thrusting her backwards into Odette’s embrace. Lola knew better than to yelp when he swooped to grasp her ankles and bring them up beneath his arms.

  As he inched forward between her legs, the men near the stage urged him on with lewd remarks.

  “You go, guy!”

  “Oh, man, don’t you wanna be a dildo about now?”

  “Dildo, hell! I want to be the guy who’s about to take a piece of that redheaded action!”

  Lola’s pulse shot into a higher gear. The three of them circled slowly, with her body suspended between the wily lovers who’d surprised her with their games before. She was spread so far that her bush and pussy protruded from the open seam of her pants. The captain then hoisted her effortlessly, so her legs were bent over his shoulders at the knee.

  “Oh, yeah—tongue-fuck her, man! Eat her out.”

  “Show me the honey!”

  Still focusing on her role, Lola arched her body and kept moving in the dance—hoping this looked like a sensual, seductive ballet rather than some stupid skit they were improvising at the last minute. Skorpio was now so close his breath stirred the hair around her hole, which was responding with a wetness she couldn’t believe.

  “Come on, guy! We can’t see through your head!” somebody protested.

  “Yeah! Tell us what’s going on—blow by blow! Every fluttering cunt hair!”

  The captain laughed low in his throat. “Oh, it’s a lovely sight, all flushed and pink and engorged with need,” his melodious Greek whisper floated through the speakers. “Shall I tell you how she tastes?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Go after it!”

  Again, Lola strove to maintain her Priestess persona. They hadn’t called her Vahshi, the goddess, for nothing!

  Letting her head fall back against Odette’s chest, as though the three of them were a longtime love triangle, she moaned in anticipation.

  “Please,” she begged. “Lick my slit. God, I want you so bad!”

  Skorpio moved in, flickering the tip of his tongue around her outer lips and then teasing her open hole with it. Odette was kissing her temple, murmuring impassioned phrases into her ear—like she meant them!—so Lola figured her best move was to let it happen. Fighting them, to maintain her dignity for Rio, was out of the question now that they were determined to make her scream for it.

  “Oh, she’s sweet—so hot and sweet,” the captain announced with a sigh. “So wet and willing and musky, I can’t get enough of her.”

  “Better plow her furrow, by the looks of that cock!”

  “Hell, plow both of ‘em!” somebody else chimed in. “The one at her back door ain’t half bad either, you lucky stud!”

  Lola nipped her lip to keep from laughing—and then yelped with the intensity of Skorpio’s next kiss. He’d planted his lips on her cunt and was sucking and thrusting and nuzzling until the spasms warned her it wouldn’t be long. She began to writhe uncontrollably, and the captain responded by upping his tempo and pressure against her heated cleft.

  “Let go,” Odette urged against her ear. “Let go and cry out—so I can have my turn!”

  That thought alone, of Odette laving her this way, sent tremors through her insides like a small earthquake. Lola groaned, her head twisting of its own accord, and then her hips began to wiggle. Skorpio went for her clit then, circling it with his rigid tongue, until she bucked and cried out, her voice ricocheting around the high-ceilinged room.

  “Yeah! Make her scream!”

  “Let’s see some more of that!”

  Lola barely had time to catch her breath before Odette walked toward Skorpio, folding her throbbing body between theirs. Instinctively her arms went around the captain’s neck, and when Skorpio shrugged, her legs slipped down over his shoulders—

  And Odette caught them. Lowered her feet toward the floor…kept her legs spread. And then knelt between them.

  The crowd was panting with her. The music had become very hushed and tense, like the soundtrack of sexy espionage. Lola couldn�
�t see down there, with her chest pressed against the captain’s, but she could envision Odette’s lithe figure in profile to the audience…making the most of her long, feline tongue as she approached.

  The first touch of that pointed tip made Lola squirm. With Skorpio holding her fast, kissing her with lips that tasted like her own juices, she could only comply. Could only stand there, wide open, while Odette’s tongue worked its illicit magic from behind, through the open slit of her harem pants.

  Still sensitive from that first climax, Lola spasmed and gasped, her body afire with the need—and being urged, from both directions—to come again. She broke away from Skorpio’s heated kiss to cry out, grimacing toward the crowd.

  “Please!” she bleated. “Take me hard! Take me now!”

  She heard furtive rustlings…hands slipping under the tables nearby. When she could open her eyes, she saw that Miss Kitty, Mistress Whips, and Goldilocks were working the crowd by straddling laps and dancing, letting those horny men kiss their breasts and rub their erections against them for relief.

  “Come on—take her, man!” a guy in the front row cried. “You’ve come this far! Come for real!”

  “Yeah! She’s beggin’ you for it!”

  “If you can’t finish her, give me a shot!”

  Skorpio flashed the crowd a grin. A born performer, he knew better than to disappoint his audience.

  Was Rio still here, watching her behave this way? If he’d remained, would he stay to witness it when Skorpio claimed her body in a way he was forbidden to do?

  The spotlights were in her eyes and she couldn’t see the back of the room. A good thing, probably.

  With an unerring sense of his observers’ desires, Skorpio turned her so she faced the other side of the club, to take Odette’s outstretched hands.

  Odette leaned down, pointing her ass back, and Lola could only act as her mirror image: Skorpio was holding her hips, his body still swaying to the low, hungry beat of the band.