by Lou Cameron
“I told you, she told me. She came back from a self-confessed absolute orgy with that old Frenchman, and then she suggested we … oh, you know”
He could guess, knowing Phoebe’s newfound enthusiasm for French lessons. But he shrugged and said, “We’re just talking in circles, Flora. You’re not in any real danger, and we don’t have another cabin for you.”
She said, “I was wondering if I could stay, well in here.” Then, catching the glimmer of interest in his eye, she quickly added, ‘‘I meant we could trade places, of course!”
He frowned and said, “Not bloody likely, as we Yanks put it. Why the hell would I want to trade cabins with you? Phoebe shares your cabin. Part time, at least.”
She blushed and said, “I know. But I don’t think you’d find her advances so distasteful, Dick.”
Actually, it sounded like it might be interesting. But it was a little sticky and very presumptuous of Flora, so he shook his head and said, “No, thanks. I like these quarters just fine.”
“But you could be with Phoebe half the time the other way, Dick.”
“Big deal. I could be with her here if that was what I wanted. You’re getting arrogant again. I told you last night, it’s none of your business who I sleep with. Does Phoebe know you’re trying to fix her up with me?”
“No, but why should she mind? Haven’t you already had your way with her?”
He didn’t answer. He thought he’d settled that point. Flora stared down at her hands as she twisted a kerchief in her lap and pleaded, “Please, Dick. I’m frightened. I want to sleep in here. I’d just die if I woke to find another woman … doing things to me.”
He chuckled and said, “Yeah, I don’t think I’d like to wake up in bed with a sissy, either.”
“Have you ever had a homosexual experience, Dick?”
“No, have you?”
She didn’t answer for a time, and her cheeks were scarlet when she nodded and said, “At school. One of the upper classmates. I had a schoolgirl crush on her; you know about those, of course?”
“I’ve had crushes on lots of schoolgirls. But you mean an innocent friendship, right?”
“Yes, it started out innocently. And then, one night when we were in bed together she … seduced me.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Don’t mock me, Dick. It took years for me to get over it. I don’t think I did until I got married. I never allowed her to touch me again. I never even spoke to her again, but it … it felt wonderful.”
He nodded sympathetically and said, “I can see how a thing like that could mess up a young virgin’s mind. It would have been your first orgasm, right?”
A tear ran down her scarlet cheek as she looked away and said softly, “It disgusted me. It frightened me. But nothing I was ever to do to myself down there ever felt half so good, until I married.”
He nodded and said, “I’m beginning to see the light. You’re as much afraid of yourself as you are of silly little Phoebe, right?”
“I don’t want to be a lesbian, Dick. Lesbians are sick and crazy. But after I refused her awful suggestions and left in a huff, I couldn’t help remembering that first time, and … oh, Dick, I’m so scared. Let me stay in here tonight!”
“Okay. But that means with me, doll.”
She blushed even redder and whispered, “Can I trust you?”
“Probably not. I’m a guy, not a saint or sissy.”
She started to cry again. He moved closer to comfort her with an arm around her as he said soothingly, “Hey, we’ll work something out.” And he meant it. Now that he thought about it, he could see that moving Flora into Gaston’s quarters, officially, would solve Flora’s problem. It would doubtless raise eyebrows and maybe tempers among the others, but tough shit. If Phoebe didn’t have to sneak back between her bed and Gaston’s, Flora could just lock her damned door and forget about it.
He was about to offer this sensible way out, but Eros smiled on him, and before he could blow it with his big mouth, Flora nodded bravely and said, “So be it. If it’s the only way to save myself from crimes against nature, I’ll just have to take the more honorable way out, as sinful as it may be in the eyes of the Church!”
He didn’t know what in hell she was talking about until she started to unbutton her blouse. Even then, he couldn’t believe it. He laughed incredulously and asked, “Are you saying you’d rather offer yourself to me than Phoebe?”
She said, “It’s the lesser of two evils. But don’t look so smug, you mean thing. You may have me at your mercy, but I assure you I have no intention of enjoying it!”
He took his arm back and thought about throwing her out. But there were footsteps in the corridor outside, and she had her blouse off now. Nasty as her mouth was, her breasts were perky little temptresses, and as she started to slide her skirt down over her slender hips, raising her firm derriere to do so, he saw she’d worn nothing under that, either. So, he shucked his own pants as he twisted on the bed to help her all the way out of the skirt, and Flora moved away to roll into a naked ball, hiding her face with her hands as she sobbed, “Please don’t be vile.”
He felt like saying, something vile as he stretched out, naked, to take her in his arms. He tried to kiss her, but she hissed, “Just do it and get it over with, since I have no choice.”
He thought, boy, your husband must have really enjoyed this ball breaking when he came home a little late. But he didn’t say it aloud. He’d met ball breakers before, and, as the old Spanish proverb put it, “No real man can be castrated by a woman’s lips.”
As he gathered her in, in her infantile position she had her knees against his chest, presumably to protect her breasts from his vile embrace. That sounded fair. He ran his hand down her spine, enjoying the contrast between her body and his most recent lover. So far, she was smaller in every way than Esperanza, albeit almost as firm. She was much thinner and firmer, as well as darker, than the bubbly blond Phoebe. He got his palm against her tail bone and pulled her pelvis closer, with her folded legs pressed tight against his torso, knees on his chest and insteps in his hairy lap.
She felt what was rising between her toes, gasped, and moved her feet farther up his belly. It was still a long reach, but as his shaft twinged in place, its head parted the soft, moist gates of her paradise, and she gasped again.
As he tried, for chrissake, to get someplace, Flora resisted his deeper penetration with her folded legs and hissed, “You animal! Haven’t you ever heard of foreplay?”
He laughed and asked, “What’s the difference, as long as you’re not going to enjoy it anyway?”
She called him a brute, sobbed, and went limp in his arms. He rolled her on her back and used his weight to thrust home. Despite her apparent attitude and the fact that she was more tightly built than anyone he’d met recently, he noticed she was well lubricated for such a frigid bitch. He noticed she was moving pretty good, too, below the waist. But when he tried to kiss her again she snapped, “Just satisfy yourself.”
So he did. He forced her legs apart, hooked an elbow under each of Flora’s knees, and proceeded to throw the blocks to her hard and deep. Her beautiful firm body was inspiring, her small perky breasts felt good against his naked chest, and she didn’t seem to object to his kissing the side of her creamy neck as he creamed inside her. From the way she was contracting on his organ grinder, Captain Gringo suspected she was coming, too. So he kept going to be polite.
She said, “Surely not again? Haven’t I satisfied you yet?”
He said, “No. But look, could I get you an aspirin or something if it feels so awful?”
She strangled a smile and said, “Oh, just go ahead and enjoy yourself. I’m resigned to the fact you’re only interested in my body as a toy.”
He said. “Not true. I have a mad desire to go down on your brain. Can we cut this bullshit and do this friendly, Flora? You know you like it.”
“That’s what all you men seem to think, isn’t it?”
“
Yeah, men are funny that way. A dame spends half her time making herself look sexy with powder and paint, bats her eyes at him, twitches her ass under his nose, and seems surprised when he takes her up on it. Of course men think flirty dames want it, Flora. How often have you seen a man make a pass at a nun?”
She laughed despite herself and absentmindedly locked her ankles over his naked, bouncing behind as she said, “It’s still not fair. A girl can’t help it if she’s feminine and, well, desirable. Do you find me desirable, Dick?”
“Hell, no, I’m just doing this for practice. Do you want me to stop?”
“Do you want to?”
“No. I don’t think I could. I was just being polite.” She laughed again and said, “That’s very flattering, even though I know you don’t mean it. Ah, could you move a little faster, as long as we have to do this?”
He grinned, withdrew, and rolled her onto her face to reenter her from the rear, with his legs folded under and her firm white buttocks against his lower belly. As she figured out what was going on back there, Flora raised her face from the sheets, arching her back nicely, and protested, “That’s bestial, Dick! Nice people don’t make love in this position!”
“Trust me, babe. You’re not exactly a beast and I’m not very nice. You said you wanted it fast, right?”
She started to answer, then buried her face in the pillow and began to chew it as she moaned and raised her derriere higher to take his powerful thrusts deeper. She still refused to admit it when she came again. But he could tell. So he rolled her over again to finish right, himself, and this time as he came in Flora she let him kiss her. She kissed like a little girl, at first, keeping her lips pursed as his tongue quested and his hips kept moving. Then suddenly she was inhaling him at both ends and raking his sweaty back with her nails as she let go at last and really gave herself completely. When they came back to earth and found themselves cuddled and sharing a smoke on the moist sheets, Flora recovered enough to say, “Well, I hope the Queen never hears about this, but I must say it seems less disgusting than giving myself to another woman.”
“Gee, thanks. I’m sorry we don’t have a Great Dane aboard. We might have worked out something even less unpleasant.”
“Don’t be nasty. Now that I’ve satisfied you, can I spend the rest of the voyage in this cabin?”
“Sure, but it’s only fair to warn you I’m not completely satisfied yet.”
She was relaxed enough to smile, Mona Lisa, as she murmured, “I suppose I’ll just have to grit my teeth and think of the Empire. Ah, how often do you generally make love to your love slaves, Dick?”
“I can’t say. I don’t get many slaves, loving or otherwise. Most of the ladies I’ve made love to in my time have been volunteers.”
“I’ll bet you’ve made love to a lot of them, eh?”
“As many as I’ve been able to. You’re not going to pull that virgin crap on me, are you, doll?”
“No, but I must say you have a romantic way with words. Do you talk to other women this way, Dick?”
“Not often. Most of the ladies I’ve been to bed with seemed to want to be romantic. I can talk romantic as hell to a real pal.”
She sighed and said, “I’ve been trying to respond to you, Dick. I just don’t know how.”
“I noticed.”’
“You don’t really want me to say things I don’t feel, do you?”
“It might help. Look, kitten, you’ve been putting on an act you don’t feel since the first time we locked eyes. I don’t expect a lot of June Moon crap from anyone, but this schoolmarm-captured-by-barbarians act is just as phony, and a hell of a bore.”
“What should I say to you, then?”
“What you feel like saying, of course. At the risk of shocking you, I’ll tell you about a lady I had in this same bunk who was a lot more fun to be with.”
She flinched away from him and gasped, “Esperanza! I knew you and she were more than friends!”
He pulled her back against him and said, “Wrong. We’ve never been more than friends. That’s why we enjoy each other’s bodies so much. I don’t have to worry about speaking my mind to her, and she can say anything she likes to me. We’ve gone beyond teenage romance into a clean, healthy friendship between consenting adults.”
“But you have made love to her?”
“I just said that. We, tear off a piece every chance we get. Why go to strangers when you have a friend, see?”
She laughed a trifle wildly and said, “I could never be that open with a man.”
He snuffed out their cigar, put his free hand in her lap, and parted her black bush with two fingers as he said, “I don’t see why not, once you’ve been open here. You ought to try letting yourself go with your mind as well as your body sometime, Flora. It might be a novel thrill.”
She closed her eyes and opened her thighs as she said, “All right. I do like what you’re doing to me down there. But I’m not in love with you. How’s that?”
“It’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me since we met. Did it hurt?”
She smiled dreamily and said, “No, it makes me feel more … relaxed. Can I say anything I like?”
“Those are the rules. I’ve been saying anything I felt like to you, haven’t I?”
“You have indeed, and I confess, some of the things you say make me feel excited as well as indignant. What would you think if I told you I was excited by the way our bodies sweat when they’re pressed together?”
“I’d say you were right. We humans waste a lot of soap and water trying to disguise the fact we’re animals at heart. We’re trained to think body odors and secretions are disgusting, but we’re all really excited sexually by them.”
“I can smell your maleness. Can you smell mine?”
“How could we miss, as stuffily as it is in here this afternoon? Take a deep breath and enjoy it, honey, Queen Vickie and Albert smelled like rutting beasts on their honeymoon or she wouldn’t have had so many grandchildren.”
Flora giggled, snuggling closer and placing a hand on the back of his to encourage its movements as she asked, “Do you think it’s true what they said about Her Majesty and that Scottish butler, John Brown?”
“Why not, if they wanted to? Who did they hurt?”
“My perishing God! Do you think John Brown ever, ah, did it from the back like that to the Queen?”
“He’d have looked pretty silly doing it to a king. Speaking of dog style, it’s awfully warm in here and we haven’t really done it right, yet.”
“Are you suggesting we should, ah—”
“Fuck, baby. You might as well get used to the word if you’re, intending to spend the rest of this voyage with me. Yes, I’m going to fuck you again, because I can’t come with my fingers and I feel you reaching for another come. Like I said, let’s do it right.”
She seemed far from unwilling, albeit confused, as he moved her into position on her hands and knees, with her upthrust derriere presented for him to take her standing upright with his knees against the edge of the bunk. As he took one small firm buttock in each hand and entered her once more, Flora gasped and said, “Oh, heavens, this reminds me of the way I saw a mare and a stallion do it when I was a little girl.”
“Did you get a kick out of watching?”
She giggled and said, “I wondered what it felt like to them. Now I think I know. It feels ever so improper, but you’re right about it being cooler and … Oh, yes, Dick! Fuck me this way! Fuck me hard and make me come like a horsey!”
So he did. Then he had her against the cabin bulkhead for a change of pace before they wound up back on the bed, with her on top, bouncing madly and laughing like a naughty child as she grinned down at him and repeated every forbidden word she’d ever heard. Some of them made little sense under the circumstances, since he was damned if he could see what they had to do with sex. But after she’d purged her Victorian mind of bile and come some more with her frustrated Victorian body, Flora was able to fall asleep
in his arms with a contented, childish smile on her Mona Lisa lips.
The siesta wasn’t over, so he managed to catch a few winks, too, before they woke up, laughing, and tore off another good clean piece.
*
As Captain Gringo had foreseen, Nombre Nada spotted the low Mujeres to the north early the next morning. The lookout aloft spotted no other sails or smoke plumes on the surrounding horizon. So, with Carmichael conning with his chart, they steamed into position between the two small coral keys where the undersea cable was said to run. They dropped anchor in mid-channel. As Carmichael and his divers’ crew took the longboat to do some exploring, Captain Gringo left Gaston in command and took four common seamen and one Maxim with him to scout the nearby keys. The chart said they were deserted. They looked deserted. But as Robinson Crusoe could tell you, a guy just never knew.
The key to the north was. There was little more than some sea grape, palmetto, Spanish bayonet, and an old beer bottle on the little cow pat of crunchy white sand and rock.
But when they rowed over to the larger key to the south, Captain Gringo, in the gig’s bow, spotted movement in the heavier brush. He armed the Maxim, told his crew to get ready to duck, and had them ground the bow on the gritty white beach.
He called out, “I see you there! We’re honest men. If you’re honest men, come and let’s talk. I’m not going to say it again!”
There was a silence you could cut with a knife as the people in the bushes thought about that. But everybody knew what a machine gun was by now. So, a million years later, a thin old man in the straw hat and white pajamas of a Mexican peon came out of the greenery holding a white flour sack in one hand. As he waved the improvised truce flag, Captain Gringo let go of his machine gun and leaped ashore. He still had his .38 if the fully exposed and unarmed pobrecito went nuts.
He walked toward the brown old man, smiling, and said, “I am called Ricardo. We have come here to hunt for sponge, see?”
