All She Ever Wanted: Pt. 02

In their cabin, after the steady calm of the Cayman Islands, Alicia and Brett took turns showering and preparing for the evening. Tonight was the luxury dinner, a chance for all to dress up, having professional photos taken of their efforts, embracing sophistication over comfort. Since Alicia missed her senior prom, she's wanted to recapture that foundational experience of youth. She didn't know if it was as significant as so many had claimed, as defining or magical, or if it was like so many other rites of passage, overblown and exaggerated. There were so many other things missing in her life now, a feeling of no past, no future, just the present. Yet still, she had wanted it, and tonight was a chance to reclaim some lost measure of it, at least aesthetically.

Brett dressed in a plain black blazer and white dress shirt, simple, classic, although not properly hemmed or fitted, he wore it well. When Alicia emerged from the bathroom, Brett's eyes widened fully as he spoke,"You look stunning." Alicia curtsied as she wore a strapless light pink ankle length dress, and silver wedge heels, a golden necklace adorning her slender neck, an emerald pendant flattering her modest cleavage, hair in a braided bun, with subtle smoky eye shadow.

He adjusted his tie as he spoke. "I mean wow. Jesus."Alicia smiled, blushing slightly. She couldn't believe that she had attached any notion of worth to this, but she felt good, for the first time since they were on the cruise. She grabbed her matching pink clutch as Brett offered his arm like a gentleman. She took it, it felt right.

The two waited to be seated in the fine dining room, a massive hall meant to emulate an establishment of class and exclusivity. It did well enough, until servers started doing the YMCA before dinner, foregoing classy jazz and ambient piano for a bizarre performance. Brett whistled, clapping along with the other passengers who were dancing near their tables. He spoke to Alicia with a wink, "Show them a thing or two, you could do some ballet to this!"

Alicia mocked putting a gun to her head.

"Oh come on, don't be like that. I mean, yeah it's awful, but weird. Weird is good!"

Alicia sighed, "Depends on your definition of good."

As the calming and elegant mood was soon reset, they heard Roy's thunderous voice call out to them as he approached. To their astonishment, Roy looked the part of a sartorial gentleman, wearing a perfectly fitted single breasted gray suit with vest, salt and pepper hair tied back into a small ponytail, beard combed, trimmed to contour his face, simple spectacles, a structured and tapered silhouette, seams hemmed to accent his large shoulders and thick wrists.

Roy spoke, a cocktail in his hand.

"We meet again. You both look nice."

Brett clasped his hands together in a display of thanks, nodding his head politely.

"Thank you Roy. You look dapper. You clean up well."

It was an honest compliment, one that Roy found amusing, as he observed Alicia, adoring the way that little pendant would center on her tits harmonious and soft, he knew that before the cruise was over he would bury his cock in her cunt. He grinned at Brett, speaking with an unusual candor.

"Well, the feeling is mutual my friend."

Roy clapped his heavy hand on his shoulder before turning to Alicia and speaking.

"A very nice shade of dress you've selected."

Alicia smiled and nodded, taking the compliment as a continued development of his peace offering, a beguiling effort on his part she thought. Brett narrowed his eyes slightly, knowing that this was a confidence game, Roy couldn't have been a threat to him, instead a cloying annoyance. Brett took a sip of his scotch.

"So Roy, who are you here with?"

Roy gestured towards a side of the dining space that couldn't be seen, obscured by waiters and passengers.

"Oh. Just with a friend."

Alicia saw Tania sitting at an empty table, dressed in an obscenely short dress, somehow forgoing her duties, Alicia knew in her heart there's no way Tania was his friend this evening. She sipped her ice water, teeth aching from the cold, speaking quietly, "Well, we hope you have a great evening."

Roy smiled, he gave Alicia one last quick glance, admiring her eyes, migrating to her thin, delicate lips. He figured she must taste as excellent as she looked. He spoke.

"You both as well. See you around, enjoy your dinner."

Roy turned and walked away, not a heavy plodding mass, but surprisingly nimble.

Brett shook his head, adjusting his tie bar.

"He just keeps getting weirder."

Alicia nodded and chuckled.

"Wait I thought you said weird was good?"

"Not that kind of weird! You think he uhh "paid" his special friend over there?"

"Oh stop. Come on."

Brett prepared his napkin across his lap.

"Tell me, why do you not suspect that?"

"It's possible, it happens of course I just don't think that kind of thing occurs on a cruise ship. I don't know."

"Sure it does. It can occur anywhere. I mean, remember that young woman he was with on the island?"

"Well, ok. I mean if a woman chooses that, she chooses it. As long as it's not against her will. And I think their laws there are different than ours anyways."

Brett nodded, sighing before speaking again, feeling as if she was somehow defending Roy, even subconsciously.

"I'm surprised you don't have more objection to that. I mean especially since you're pretty well... ardent about your stances socially."

"Well, people change. Maybe to some women... or men it's empowering."

"I suppose so. So why don't you think he's doing that?"

"I don't think he even has the ability to woo a sex doll let alone an escort."

They both laughed and were surprised with the quality of their entree, artfully prepared prime rib and roast duck, with a fine mixologist on bar, finishing their meal with an espresso martini.

Under the delicate lighting, Alicia studied Brett, looking closer to the refined man she had married, seeing past the disappointment in their misunderstandings, his emotional affair, their distance.   He wasn't the same man, he had changed, as they both had. Still, with his strong chin and kind eyes, he was every bit the man she fell in love with. She took her napkin off her lap and spoke with an unusual directness.

"You want to go back to the room now?"

"Yeah. That sounds nice."

Brett helped her stand, kissing the top of her hand and pushing her chair in for her. They walked back to their cabin, quiet and occasionally stealing a glance at each other's eyes, or body. She would playfully speed up and walk ahead of him, teasing with her hips. He could only bring himself to smile, purposefully slowing down as she looked over her shoulder to smile at him wryly. As they entered, she took off her heels, she was nervous but spoke as sultry as she could, "Lay down in bed. Close your eyes."

He took off his blazer and loafers, loosened his tie, and took off his socks, unbuckling his belt and letting his cock free from his boxers. He wanted this. He needed this, like air itself. He laid down and closed his eyes. He felt the bed sink as she climbed atop his waist, wearing the lace and golden chain wireless bustier with matched garters, the dark blue of the silken lingerie playing off her olive skin. He had to grit his teeth from saying anything, knowing that she hated talk during intimacy of any kind, wanting it to be natural, close, organic.

He caressed her slender waist, feeling the small chains, cold to the touch resting on the silken fabric below, intricate woven details caressing his fingertips. He ran his hands down her strong thighs, cherishing them as he sat up, hand grasping at the back of her neck as he cradled her, kissing her collar and softly moving to her lips, his intense glare fading against into the dark as she closed her eyes, what had been latent for two years was rousing, her heart beat faster, his hands drifted towards her abdomen as she pressed her thighs on the side of his own hips, grinding against him. He could feel her wetness through the sheer material. They scrambled against each other, mute and in passion as their mouths recreated once familiar bonds and movements, embraced. Yet, Brett was soft.

She felt below her, pausing, her heart racing as she spoke softly, "Are you ok?"

"Babe I'm fine... Lets keep going."

They pushed, pulled, immersed themselves in their effort, struggles falling to loss. She rolled over and ran her soft hand down his face, in the dark feeling a tear. Brett sighed. His own performance anxiety was a punishment from not just his own body, but the animosity built over the lack of intimacy betwixt them. What he wanted so badly was in front of him, presented in astonishing glory, yet he remained flaccid. He desperately tried to make himself hard, feeling more tears blur his vision as his fist tirelessly worked his softness. He licked his lips and felt a cold sweat dampen his thinning hairline as he tried to calm himself with steadied breath. Alicia spoke, loving and kind,"It's just not meant to happen right now."

He looked down, ashamed. He had remembered the first year they spent making love, how they would finish and hold each other, his load sprayed against her stomach or tits, sometimes hanging off her lips, or seeing her throat bulge as she swallowed every drop of him, that undeniable warmth, their intertwined musk hanging heavy around them, a coupling that made them feel as if they were the last lives left in the universe. She kissed him on the cheek and ran her fingers across the sides of his head, his memories sinking along with his hopes as she spoke, "It's ok. Really. We tried."

He stared at the floor, gently taking her hand away from his face, and turning over on the bed, the wall his focus now, not daring to look at the woman he cherished, in her prime, he didn't want to offer words or gestures, which would all register as hollow. The room was cold. He ran through a million possibilities of what was wrong with him, with them.

She changed out of her lingerie, there was no coldness in her action. She slipped into a gray flowing knee length bodycon dress and put her hair in a messy bun, slipped on some modest leather, heeled sandals kissing him on the cheek. She turned the lock, it was heavy and loud, breaking the silence of the room as the bolt slid back. Brett looked over his shoulder, a tear stained face he spoke with remorse on every syllable, "Guess I'll see you later."

She nodded and smiled weakly trying to remain comforting in her tone.

"I'm just gonna get some air. I need... some time. I hope you understand."

He turned over and buried his head in the pillow. Her pussy was still wet as she left.

At night the ship's environment changed, the bustle of families and the zealous complaints of the elderly were gone, instead the pursuit of reckless passion filled every bar, small nightclubs opened, every corridor a cackling mixture of women in heels and men dressed mostly slovenly harassing the women. The groups of young women produced teasing waves at the obnoxious young men with "single inch" pinching gestures, as the men delivered middle fingers as retorts and consoled each other at their failures.

Everywhere she went she could see it, the drunken singing and screaming, debauchery, all of the college youth smiling wide and anticipating life, corralled above the deck where they passed cigarettes and the persistent rot of bad weed blanketed all. She was relieved that mostly, she was a ghost during this time. She earned a few smiles from women, and the occasional nod from a younger man sometimes out of nicety and politeness but a few times out of attraction. She was old enough to know the signs now, as Brett had taught her over the years how to pick up on when men were doing more than being friendly. She should have paid attention more.

From the top deck stringed lights swayed with the movement of the ship. Alicia went to the decks below, trying to walk away from her own feelings. She was sure that something would have happened between her and Brett. Everything felt right, she felt so relaxed. She didn't blame him, she also blamed herself.

She made her way towards the perimeter of the casino, smelling the acrid tobacco and visible haze that was associated with the tables of poker and high rollers, hundreds and thousands of dollars gone and gained in moments. She watched the lights of the slot machines and parlors shine with a steadied neon glow, blanketing the faces of both winners and losers at each table.

She tucked her dress at her knees and slid onto a worn bar stool, ordering a dry martini and containing her observance of the zen like focus of many within the parlor. She wondered about all the participants lives, who they were, who they fucked, what they wanted. She had a measure of peace here, feeling forgotten, apart from her disappointment. Out of habit she checked her phone, seeing a text from Brett.

"Going out for a drink."

She knew what that meant. It was never just a drink, it was seven or eight that he insisted was only two. As if a man of his stature could so easily turn into a stumbling fool with such ease. But that was his prerogative, she wasn't there to stop him, he was free to disappoint her. She crossed her legs and tapped her heeled sandal against that flat of her foot, her gold anklet slung across her ankle. She felt a heavy tap on her shoulder, turning to see Roy still wearing his suit. She offered a reluctant and polite smile and turned to face her drink. He slapped the stool next to her.

"Mind if I join you?"

She shrugged her shoulders and tucked her wisps of hair behind her ears, offering a glimpse of her immaculate makeup from dinner. She hesitated before she spoke.

"No. I guess not."

He slid onto the stool, his large frame already reeking of cigars as he unbuttoned his blazer. He slapped the counter to draw the attention of the young Caribbean woman bartender, he placed his order, "Boilermaker sweetie. Bud Light and Jack Daniel's, just pour that shot in it."

The bartender looked at him with both puzzlement and a frown to match, proceeding to fill the draft and pour the shot of whiskey in it. It turned the golden liquid into a cloud of brown that sank to the bottom, polluting it. Roy downed it in one gulp, releasing his breath with a gasp as he slapped his hand on the counter.

"That's the stuff. There we go. Another darling." He turned to Alicia, adjusting his rings and watch. Alicia winced and spoke.

"How can you drink that? It looks disgusting."

"It's a drink about economics. Not taste."

"So what, you can get shit faced faster?"

He laughed.

"No, no. So you can relax easier to get shitfaced without friggin remorse! It's important, living life without remorse." He chose every word carefully. He could tell something was wrong, this late at night and Brett was nowhere to be seen. It was an opportunity, he steeled his mind and began looking to peel away her cold demeanor.

She rolled her eyes, in an especially foul mood. He tapped his glass against the bar top, sliding it a short distance towards the bartender. He glanced at Alicia.

"Where's the hubby?"

"Resting."

Roy watched her swirl the olive skewered on a crisp toothpick around the rim of her glass. He nodded to her almost empty glass.

"Another?"

She shook her head.

"No thanks."

"You sure?"

"Actually... yeah I will. Thanks."

"I always figured it like this, if ain't got anything to do, booze is your best friggin friend."

"That's one way of looking at it."

As the bartender made Alicia another martini, Roy watched the nearby TV, it was playing a boorish romantic comedy, audio drowned out from the sounds of the casino, no subtitles, like a forgotten silent film with no narration. The fuzz at the corner of the screen blotting out part of the picture. The bartender brought him another boilermaker. Once more he drained the entire drink and set the glass down. Alicia checked her phone, as if expecting some message that would bring her peace. She set her phone down, a text message from Brett brightening the dull screen, drunken paragraphs that she would read much later. Her background, an image of her son and his fiance was clear as the phone locked. Roy nodded towards her phone.

"Who's the kid?"

"My son. Noah. The woman with him is his fiance... Reagan"

"Good looking kid. Takes after you."

"I'll try to take that as a compliment."

"Observation. Nothing more. Good looking woman too. College?"

"Yes. He's studying architecture. She's more... trade based."

"What like a steel worker? Hehe."

"No. Cosmetology."

"That explains her look." It was indeed exaggerated, with layered hair in a variety of colors, nose rings and a peerless foundation with exaggerated winged eyeliner. Alicia sighed loudly and spoke, cradling her head.

"They want to get married, I tried to dissuade him. They've only been dating three years."

"Hearts want what they want. And plus, we're all stupid at that age. No offense to em."

"None taken. I wouldn't disagree." She wouldn't in sincerity, it's why she was a mother at twenty. She looked at Roy, and spoke.

"Do you have kids?"

He fumbled for his phone in his blazer,"Yeah. Eight of them."

Roy showed her various photos of him and his six sons and two daughters of broadly different ages. Each photo some sort of occasion, birthdays, graduations, marriages, births, all of them gathered around for his sixtieth in a luxury mansion, all wearing genuine smiles, happily surrounded around their loving father. He was at football games, cheer competitions, even the unveiling of a painting by his daughter at a gallery in Miami. She couldn't believe he was that dutiful, they seemed to adore him. It was a stark contrast between his presentation and behaviors. She felt pain thinking back against the hardship of raising Noah, and how little they had in terms of support and money. She spoke, her morose attitude impossible to conceal, "They seem happy."

"They are. I keep them that way. Love em. Sometimes annoy the fuck out of me, but eh, you know.."

"What about your ex wives?"

"Never married."

"With that many kids? No way."

"Three different mothers. But no, never once said those vows. Always made it crystal friggin clear that ain't me."

"And they just were fine with this?"

"Meh they got their money. They're all happy and married, new families, all that shit."

"Why not stay with them?"

Roy saw his opportunity, to plant a seed, and grow it. He spoke with an air of dominance as he looked deep into her eyes.

"Why stay with someone who bores you? Who does what you don't like no more?"

To her continued surprise, Roy had made another insightful comment. This hulking, bloated parody of a presumably wealthy retiree hiding behind a poor wardrobe and boisterous attitude had actual wisdom. She thought the same thing before, about boredom, about staying. Her therapist and closest friends had all echoed the hidden sentiment she shrouded from Brett. She didn't need him.

Roy let the moment linger, the silence she held was a confirmation that he had began wearing her down, in time she would be exhausted, which meant she would be easier to persuade. He picked the conversation back up content with his strategy.

"So what do you do for fun?"

"Why do you care?" Alicia drank almost half her martini.

"I mean, everybody does something."

"Ballet."

"No shit. That's some fancy stuff."

He knew she did, he could tell from her strong thighs and build she was lithe and poised, she would be fun to break in bed, anticipating splitting that tight little slit wide open. She spoke.

"I was supposed to, how do I put this? Go professional I suppose. But, we had Noah. Wouldn't trade it for the world of course."

"Nah. I get it. It still feels like a disappointment."

She looked at him, a barely concealed wrath in her increasingly cloudy eyes.

"How would you know?"

"Well. I'd be even wealthier if I played for the NFL. Got scouted by the Bucs, turned em down."

It had to have been one of the worst lies she ever heard, and she didn't have the energy to challenge it. She finished her martini instead, ordering another. She never drank this much. Roy put it on his tab, even as she protested. He spoke.

"Nah, it's ok. I don't mind. Don't mean nothing to me, so, how long you known hubby?"

"I can't stand "hubby" it's terrible."

"Brad?"

"No, it's Brett. We've known each other since we were nineteen."

"Long friggin time"

He observed her, her body language told him everything he needed to know. She wasn't just being careful, she had an aura of desperation that he could guarantee. He wondered if Brett had failed to give her the cock she so badly needed. He spoke, relishing how she complied with his seemingly innocent questions.

"Brett gamble at all?"

"He does."

"Most men do."

"I see a lot of women in the casino right now."

"Oh sure, but men, we tend to gamble more."

"Why? It's a waste of money."

"Well, it can provide a friggin' thrill, but more importantly it shows the difference between winners, and losers."

"Wouldn't that be a bad thing? To find out you're a loser?

"Well, you see, it's not about realizing you're a loser, its about realizing how others are losers."

Roy let the sounds of the slot machines nearby buzz, filling his engineered silence before Alicia spoke.

"Well, Brett is horrible at it. He's won maybe twice in the time I've known him."

"Twice is better than frigin none I say!"

"You would-, sorry you could say that."

Roy laughed, with a volume that made others turn.

"Yeah, I just friggin did!"

Alicia was slightly uncomfortable, his probing questions about her marriage and Brett told her gut instincts that he was looking for something. Worse, she knew that he was right about some of her feelings.

Roy gestured with his hand to the casino.

"How about you? You gamble at all?"

She scoffed, offended by the idea itself.

"No. Never have and never will. Ever."

He racked his gold rings against the counter.

"I'll buy. You play poker?"

She shook her head and spoke.

"Maybe you didn't hear me, but I don't gamble. I don't play games. I don't waste money."

Roy chuckled.

"Live a little! I'll buy you in at a table."

"I don't even know the rules of poker or blackjack or whatever."

She bit into the olive of her martini, gnawing against the pulp, cleaning completely before letting it roll off her tongue into the glass. Roy signaled the bartender again for his last call, but glanced over at her nimble tongue work. He would be sure it would come in handy later as she sucked his cock.

"I'll play for you. Don't worry. I guarantee you'll win... or we'll win rather."

"Then how I am I even playing?"

"You're not. You're just... playing a different kind of game. It'll kill an hour. You don't got nothing to lose. What else ya gonna do? Go to a shitty comedy show?"

She rolled her eyes. She didn't want to lead him on anymore. She felt this had to be more than a continued apology. She could sense his interest even if it was slightly more nuanced than she had expected, not knowing if it remained a horrible offense or charming. Roy was right again. There was nothing else to do. Nowhere else to be. Only a room that was far too cold with Brett who would stumble in, no doubt shitfaced beyond reason, so they could sleep at opposite sides of the bed as they always had. She looked at Roy, he was grinning, another gold tooth at the opposite side of his at the back of his mouth visible. She shrugged and spoke.

"Sure. Fine. I'll be back."

"Where you going?"

She stood off the stool as her thighs showed, smoothing out her dress above her knees.

"None of your business. I said I'd be back."

He shrugged and sat back on the stool, downed his last boilermaker and went back to watching the broken TV.

Alicia exited the area, feeling the ship tilt severely, its balance and sudden shift was nausea inducing. It righted itself and soon fell back into a smooth lull, halls vibrating and humming softly. She found it humiliating as she walked that the only other companion she had at the moment was Roy. A man she didn't even like. It was mere tolerance, and boredom that propelled her willingness to even entertain him.

As she walked, her loneliness and the emptiness of the spaces haunted her. She headed back to the elevator and went to the third floor, the most remote of all. The bathroom there was almost always empty. She walked to the older elevator, the large ballroom below full of laughter, mirth and drunken karaoke. For every awful note she heard, she had to admit there was something freeing about it, the nonsense and lack of subtlety, it reminded her of days long past, of her and Brett's time in dive bars, karaoke nights, sucking Brett's cock in a stall, letting him spray over her face, giggling as she kissed him after as a reward, sharing his spunk between their lips. She pressed the button. It didn't come. She watched it go a floor below, and skip right over her, like everything in her life, it passed her by.

She stomped back to the stairs, deciding to no longer wait. As she distanced herself from the relentless energy being expended by passengers below, she climbed the stairs, her fingers playing at the guard rail as the boat shifted. She stepped off the next floor and worked her way towards the bathroom, past the tax free shops carrying tawdry goods at inflated values. As she got closer to the restroom; she saw a heavy stanchion put in place to prevent anyone from entering from one side. Frustrated, she walked around, determined to get in. She paused. Her hand rose to her mouth, letting out a gasp.

Against the wall was a young man, head held back, sandy blonde hair over his eyes, holding his phone, recording a young woman on her knees in front of him. The young woman gagged and sputtered as she grasped at his thighs and moaned softly, his belt on the ground with his pants around his knees tapping the tile as he ran his fingers through her curly red hair and grabbed the back of her head as he spoke, "Keep sucking whore."

Alicia's eyes widened as she realized they could sense her, and soon saw her, the girl turned pulling her head off the young man's spittle clad cock, the member possessed of a fervent vitality. The young woman looked directly at Alicia, standing up as she wiped away spittle from her chin, her green bikini bottoms still on, her scuffed white sneakers planted firmly on the ground wearing a loose tank top. The young woman muttered in embarrassment softly, "Oh shit. Umm..."

The young man started laughing. He grabbed the base of his cock and pointed it at Alicia, licked his lips and spoke, "You want a turn?" Alicia quickly turned on her heel and went down the opposite stairs. She descended quickly, heart racing, impacted by the sight. She couldn't place the feeling, it resembled disgust, a revolt against the crude exhibitionism.

Yet, she remembered a time, where her and Brett were in the back of their friend's van, her hand working against his cock as she covered his mouth as he came, giggling in his ear, letting the sleeves of her oversize hoodie be a makeshift cumrag, pop music blaring through broken speakers as they drove aimlessly in a dead town, looking for anything to do as she rolled his cum in her palm and he smiled at her in a way the knew meant she would be fucked hard later. It was a distant life, one she wished she could have.

As she walked, hand over her mouth, a nervous energy coursing through her, the entire hall was silent, amplifying her witness of the spectacle. Security seemed to miss any sweep, occupied by greater congregations, those paying and raging at the casino, and the scattered nightclubs where drunken fools would mercilessly imbibe. Public sex was low on their list of priorities.

She halted, feeling her thighs grow warm. She needed to go back and watch. She told herself every reason, every piece of logic she could apply as to why she shouldn't go back. She thought it was her hormones, it was the shower head earlier that pulled her so close to release, the feeling of Brett's hands across her skin, the specter of disappointment weighing her down. Yet, at the same time. Roy's words regarding boredom... and living life stayed with her. Maybe she needed to stop being bored, to feel herself again, to reclaim what she lost.

She planned it, not entirely well, but she had to see more, it was compulsion that gave her nausea, her brow sweat coldly. She knew the best vantage point would be the elevator, just a floor above, tinted windows and nearly never used at this time of night. It beckoned. She watched the bronze doors slide open as she stepped inside. The heat of the small compartment immediate. She looked down, the young college couple still there.

The young woman slid her thin thong bikini aside and was running her long pink acrylic nails across her clit, intense deep circles, as she serviced the young man. He looked to be in the prime of his life, muscular and defined, like Brett was when they were younger, his cock glistening with the spit of the young woman, she took him past her lips and teeth, teasing the thick veins towards his cock with her tongue, she pulled her head off gasping.. She looked up at him with wide green eyes as she spoke, slurring her words.

"You fucking like this baby? You like when I'm a dirty whore?"

He nodded and chuckled before he moved her hair aside from her face.

"Fuck yeah I do. Maybe I send a pic to your fag boyfriend."

She laughed as he started recording with his phone again.

She slapped his thigh, albeit weakly. "Come on, don't say that." She didn't want him to stop. Not a single bit. A part of her even wanted him to send a text of her plump lips rested on the young man's cockhead, to her boyfriend, innocent eyes saying "I'm sorry" as she devoured the young man's cock. He spoke, inebriated and harsh.

"Turn around. I'm gonna fuck that tight pussy. Bet your sissy boyfriend barely fits huh? Don't worry, I'll stretch you out slut."

She stood and faced the wall, her pert tits sliding out of her top, her white sneakers pressed up as she stood on the tips of her toes, like a ballerina, en pointe, to align herself with the man's cock. That's when Alicia recognized the young woman, her toned legs, curly red hair and near translucent pale skin couldn't be mistaken, especially when the young man yanked her hair back in a cruel fist, exposing her freckled soft round cheeks visible between panted moans as she drooled in ecstasy. Alicia knew her. She went to the same ballet studio. There was no mistaking it. They had made small talk, discussed form, composure and balance. Now, Alicia stood watching the young woman's guts be rearranged.

The young man ripped the young woman's thong aside and slowly pressed his bulging pink cockhead inside her, even from where Alicia stood she could see his veins along his shaft were engorged and heavy, a map of primitive lust strained across his cock. He was far from gentle. He raised his arm above his head and slapped her firm ass from high, she gasped and moaned, her nerve endings aflame in pain and pleasure, a red hand print glowing against her pale skin. She grasped the side of the wall as he pummeled her from behind, a choked staccato of moans pouring out of her mouth. He reached and grabbed her thin wrists, pulling her arms back fully down the center of her back, her back flexing as her forehead rested against the wall. He pulled her hard into him, his phone falling to the ground, still recording underneath as he fucked her slit brutally. He spoke between vicious thrusts.

"You like when I fuck you like this?"

The young woman began to grind her teeth, it was completely savage, deranged even, compared to the soft touch and kindness of her boyfriend. She spoke in broken sentiments, loud enough to fill the entire area.

"GOD. FUCK. DON'T STOP..... OH GOD... DO... NOT... FUCKING STOP."

Below her throttled cunt the phone still was recording, every lurch, every deepening pace, her quivering shaven pink pussy splayed and spread, nothing more than a fuckhole to the young man's cock. He slapped her face from the side, drawing large fingerprints across her cheek.

"You like that you fucking cunt? Huh? YOU GONNA CUM LIKE A SLUT!? LIKE A FUCKING WHORE?" She moaned loudly, she could feel her thighs burn, her groin ache, she bit her lip, she grasped the side of the wall feeling her nails dig in, her ass pushed back, driven by nothing except lust, her mouth dropping into a screech that caught in her throat, a liberation that drove her to relinquish, a pulsation from her cunt that consumed her. When the young man roared, it met evenly with his load. He left himself deep in her, every pulse, pump and throb, his aching cock bursting in her, heavy balls relieved in every twitch as he claimed her. Alicia hoped for the young woman's sake she was on the pill, or had a plan, otherwise she would be bred, she knew that kind of a load, felt it with Brett, long ago. Alicia stared at the couple a bit longer, seeing the thick wad of cum spill out of the young woman onto the tile, dripping on the phone, dampening her bikini bottoms and thighs, as the young woman pressed her chest against the wall as he tore at her hair and kissed her violently, their lips locked in a furious struggle of brutal lust and infidelity. The young man grabbed the phone, wiped the cum off the screen, and sent the video to the young woman's boyfriend.

In shock Alicia heard the young woman yelling at the young man who laughed, reveling in his dominance. Alicia exited the elevator sweating, the taboo voyeurism settling in her clenched, burning thighs. It took all her restraint to not pleasure herself. There was a time when she was untamed, when lust flowed alongside love, and that newness, was profound in shaping her view of what sex was supposed to be. Over time it faded to a boring and tedious exercise. She wondered to herself if she missed those days, sometimes wondering if saving and devoting herself to Brett alone was another mistake, that and of course a broken condom twenty years ago. She went to the crowded, congested bathroom below, the scent of vomit and ruined stalls made her gag. But it didn't matter, among the filth, she fucked herself with her fingers, watching her wedding ring glisten against her wet cunt and the bright lights. She gripped the sides of the stall, seeking a release that would never occur. After she headed back to the casino crushed and defeated, Roy was already sitting at a poker table, clear in sight, a stack of hundreds on the table. He gestured for her to come closer and spoke.

"There ya are, thought you weren't coming back!"

Alicia tried to smile but couldn't. Her needs were unmet. She wanted release. She didn't even know why she came back to the casino, she owed no obligation to Roy. She already loathed the smell of the smoke, and getting closer to the poker table she already felt out of place. As she approached, Roy spoke into her ear after taking a long swig of whiskey from a flask, his breath reeking.

"Just sit down in the chair. I'll do the rest."

Alicia sat in the worn leather chair at the table, while Roy hovered over her, a giant. She didn't realize how tall and commanding his presence was was until she sat below him. Her brown bloodshot eyes were a cloudy mess. The clink of chips filled the air as the other players, a mix of seasoned and amateurs alike, eyed their cards with a competitive paranoia. Roy leaned closer to Alicia, his voice low and steady, "Play the queen of hearts. The man across is bluffing. He looks like a loser, too eager, too desperate to show. If you raise now, he'll fold, and you'll... or rather we'll make a nice pot."

Alicia hesitated she had no idea what she was doing, Roy was essentially playing for her, the rules made no sense, and she was shocked that the table, let alone the dealer seemed to be fine with Roy feeding her information. As she played the card, a man across from her, burly, with a greasy ponytail, grunted and threw his cards into the middle with an irritated flick. Roy's lips curled into a slight smile, satisfied with the turn of events, but his attention migrated to the other player, a young college man, squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

Roy whispered to Alicia, his face uncomfortably close to her ear, his breath heavy and laced with alcohol, "Watch the college yuppie. He's eyeing you more than his cards. Play the jack of spades. It'll throw him off." Alicia, oblivious to the way her presence had affected the younger man, placed the card down. The college man, noticed that Alicia reminded him of a yoga teacher he desperately wanted to fuck, he raised his eyebrows and shuffled his cards too quickly, his thoughts drifting, causing him to fold, his face crumbling. Roy leaned back, his large stomach nearly bursting a button of his vest, content in his guidance. The two players thanks to Roy's clandestine guidance, lost everything. Roy knew how to read cards, more importantly, he knew how to read people. Alicia, with her rigid, cold demeanor, was his favorite study in years. Roy took the winnings and placed it down, going in for the next game, betting every last penny. He spoke to Alicia.

"See? Wasn't that fun?

"I didn't even do anything. I didn't even know what the fuck was going on. I'm gonna go."

"Come on, you should stay, you're bringing some look to the table."

"Well at least someone has luck around here."

"Eh, sometimes you also gotta make your own luck you know?"

"I guess."

"I'll cash out later, after a couple more rounds. I'm on a friggin streak!"

"How often does that happen?"

"Well, if you got the right strategy, more often than you think "

"How is there strategy in gambling or whatever this was?"

"Statistics."

"Doesn't the house always win?"

"Nah. They gotta lose to keep folks coming back. Like I said before, there are winners and losers, and I know what I am."

"I suppose. Anyways, it was nice talking with you Roy."

"You too. Have a good one."

Alicia left the casino, surprised at her drinking, the sight of the young ballerina and taboo voyeurism, and Roy's refreshing behavior. She still found him distasteful, crass, and far too aggressive. But as an acquaintance, it was nice to have someone to talk to that wasn't the same people she spoke with time and time again. She walked along the deck, and took the longest route she could, marveling at how the entire ship seemed to be asleep, when she got back to the cabin, she soon was as well.

***

When Alicia woke, Brett was still passed out, snoring loudly, his hair a mess, having drooled all over his pillow. She noticed that with limited service she received a phone call from Noah, his voice was calm and sweet, as it always was.

"Hey ma! How's the cruise?"

"It's going well. Well, I mean pretty boring if you want me to be honest."

"Awww shit sorry to hear that. How's pa?"

"He's good. Trying to do anything to avoid being bored. I think we've played more mini golf here than in our entire lives."

"Mini golf? Damn, that is desperate"

Alicia could hear other voices in the background, unmistakably Reagan, Noah's fiance as she shouted out to Alicia.

"Hi Mrs. Rodell!"

Alicia tried to feign a smile hoping her voice would come across as genuine. Even across the sea, thousands of miles away, she made no qualms about loathing her.

"Hello Reagan."

Noah went back to speaking.

"So you'll be coming back soon?"

"Yes. Uhh technically three days actually. It's today at sea, Cozumel, back at sea, than home"

"We'll just miss each other, I'll be out of town by than."

"I know, it's such a shame. Well, we'll try to come to you for the holidays."

"Sounds good."

"How's school?"

"Good. Anyways I'll talk to you soon ma, love you."

"Love you too-"

And before she could utter her son's name he had hung up. Processing that he was at a point where he no longer needed her at all, was devastating and a reoccurring event over the past three years.

Brett stirred, groaning. He slowly sat up in bed, placing his palm against his forehead, no doubt a headache inbound, he yawned and winced before he spoke.

"Good morning, I feel like dogshit."

Alicia nodded. Brett looked down, pensive, she knew immediately what was coming before he even spoke.

"Babe I wanted to talk about..."

"Please. Brett not first thing in the fucking morning ok?"

Brett nodded, reeking of alcohol, "Sure. Fine. I get it."

The two remained in awkward silence for a while, Brett soon showering and trying to make small talk after as he dressed in comfortable athletic clothing. He spoke after taking painkillers with sink water.

"How was your walk last night?"

"Fine."

She didn't want to disclose she was a voyeur, tried to fuck herself in a filthy stall, and spent an uncomfortable amount of time with Roy, and worse enjoyed most of it.

"Your clothes smell a like smoke, were you near the casino?"

"Yeah. I played slots."

"I thought you hated gambling."

"I do. But I was bored as hell."

"Did you win?"

"No. Not even a penny."

"Shame. Hey maybe we could go later."

"Maybe."

Brett checked the schedule. Perusing, trying to find anything to occupy the day. It was getting to become a labor in itself to stave off boredom during the days at sea, and with the day still ahead of them it seemed an impossible task. Alicia spoke still tense.

"I talked to Noah this morning."

"Oh we had a signal?"

"Briefly, yeah. He's doing well."

"Still with Reagan?"

"Regrettably."

Brett breathed in deeply.

"Listen, why do you dislike her so much? She clearly adores him."

"She's dumb as a fucking rock and has zero ambition. She's going to drag him down. He's valedictorian and she's a what, a hair stylist?"

"Love is love. Work is work."

"Well it's also stupid."

"I mean come on, what about us?"

"You always have been a romantic Brett, and it's one of the things that Noah got from you. I will always respect it but it doesn't mean I like it."

"You didn't answer the question, what about us?"

"What about us?"

"I was a layabout too, you were the ambitious one. And look, everything turned out alright."

"Sure we just sacrificed our entire youth. No big deal."

"Why be resentful?"

"Why defend her?"

"Because she loves our son. And he loves her."

"Well I'm glad you understand him, while I speak from a place of reason and am completely, utterly ignored because I'm the cruel one. I'm the bitch. I'm the asshole of the family."

"Alicia, babe, come on."

Alicia stood up, dressed in simple black running shorts and a white crew neck shirt, braless, her pointed brown nipples accenting her tits as she turned, taking her knit sweater and flats before leaving without a word, slamming the door behind her. Brett remained in the bed, still hungover having thought he had navigated the situation the best he could.

"God fucking damn it."

He wanted to chase, wanted to be a bulldog, to convince her. He made the choice to offer her space instead.

Alicia walked to the buffet, needing only a cup of coffee, the thought of eating anything disgusted her. Her anxiety made knots in her stomach, her anger made her bury her nails into her thighs. She remembered seeing Noah when he was born, holding him in her arms for the time, and as so many had said, she merely closed her eyes, and from walking beside her, tiny hand in hers, joyfully giggling, stumbles and firsts, birthdays and little league, and isolation, girls, abandonment, growth apart instead of together, and now he was just a phone call. She hated more than anything that was what their relationship was, all because she disapproved of his girlfriend. She forced herself to get coffee and shifted into a small table, trying to bask in the absolute blue out the window of the ship, a sun above that promised hope, rebirth, yet all she felt was sorrow, beset by her own family. She looked up and saw Roy, carrying a backpack that hung off his shoulder, an odd sight. She couldn't have known that he had prepared for her inevitable isolation, whether today or tomorrow. Knowing she was absent from Brett was enough to know he could win her over further. He walked up and spoke as he slammed his heavy body into the seat opposite her, his hairy chest and stomach bulging out of his open Hawaiian shirt and spoke,"Morning".

He handed her a small, intricately wrapped box, light pink with a leather ribbon sewn into the sides, a small tag that didn't have anything written on it. He passed it along the table to her.

"Open it. It's for helping me out at the casino. Felt good to cash out, made a nice tidy friggin sum."

She shook her head, sliding the box back to him.

"I don't want any gifts. I don't even like gifts. And I barely know you."

"Just humor me. Do an old man a solid."

He smiled, actually disarming, there was a surprising kindness in his eyes, his guard had been lowered, he hoped she'd fall for his acting, and, she did. She opened the lid and saw inside a small Saint Laurent bag, a gold chain for a strap with supple leather with immaculate stitching, the monogrammed buckle shined to a radiant polish that reflected her own face, mouth agape.

"This is outrageous. This is like a 3000 dollar bag. I can't accept this. No. And how would I explain this to Brett?"

"Just say you won it. At one of those uhh raffles or something. They have those all the time on these cruises."

She crossed her arms over her chest. It was a beautiful bag, she bit her lip, and couldn't even believe she thought of taking it. She wanted it though. She had always felt she deserved more, much more. Yet could never once justify such an expense. She hesitated before she spoke, he knew what it meant.

"This is far too much. It's fine, seriously. Thank you, but I can't."

He pushed the box slightly closer to her, his insistence commanding in his rigid posture.

"Consider it luck. Maybe... our next stop at Cozumel tell your hubby... say something like you bought it, a bootleg or some shit."

He smiled wryly, easily adapting his coercion to her need. She tapped her fingers on the fake marble table, the clacking of her acrylics accenting the sound of clattering pans and distant voices. She slowly grabbed the bag out of the box, its authenticity tag still on it. She hesitated. She looked over her shoulders, an encroaching feeling of guilt as she nearly prayed that Brett wouldn't suddenly appear. She placed the gift at the bottom of her own yarn slung bag, moving a towel over it.

"Thank you. This is really umm, generous? It's a bit much. You're sure?"

He nodded, "Of course. You deserve it."

She looked at his eyes and slid the empty box back to him, he quickly crumpled it up and threw it in the trash. She checked her phone and saw several text messages from Brett, apologies no doubt, wondering where she was, hoping to make amends, she knew this pattern and chose to ignore it. She spoke to Roy, as he picked at his nails.

"How, how did you afford this? The round for everyone the first day? All that money at poker and gambling last night? The bag, it's unreal, it must have been thousands and thousands."

He looked up, to the ceiling, pensive for but a second before he adjusted his cheap glasses.

"I'm just a frugal man. I skip Starbucks everyday."

He laughed, wheezing, an obnoxious sound that made her discard any semblance of respect she might have had for her evident admirer. He finally rose his thick hand and waved away his laughter, pinching the bridge of his broad nose.

"I made my wealth. I have a fishing business, and before that I worked in shipping. Now I lease real estate and invested a tidy sum into a growing supply chain startup. Didn't know what the fuck that meant, but I made good friggin money, I like all the zeros hehe. Just started a lawn care business as well, should be getting good returns, all Americans working those jobs. I think a lot of folks around where I'm from will appreciate that."

She knew he was serious, it wasn't a lie. Roy was a multi-millionaire. She had worked so hard for so long, raised a child while split between her career and duties as a wife. She felt admiration and even jealousy for him, immediately attributing his success not to his efforts or his work, but because of his gender, no doubt a privilege that meant nothing to him, because it was unseen, only experienced. Worse, he never even considered it, only benefited from it. He most likely preferred it that way. She considered however, that she was wrong. Maybe, he was just that good at what he did. Maybe he was what a man should be. She spoke softly, concealing her envy.

"That's... impressive. I will admit"

He nodded slowly, he checked his own phone.

"I started working when I was 10. Never stopped till two years ago. Now, I get to enjoy my life. And it's a damn, damn good life."

She nodded, her eyes darting back to her bag and over her shoulder, nervous that Brett would see her. She spoke, aggressive this time.

"Ten? Bullshit. Let me guess some bootstrap news paper delivery story? Lemonade stand?"

He chuckled at her bluntness, he knew he was wearing her down slowly.

"Close. Lawn work. Got a friggin push mower. Hit the whole neighborhood."

"Did you... go to school?"

"Graduated. UCF. Was the quarterback. Got there on an athletics scholarship. Business major. Remember I told you got scouted by the Bucs?"

She was shocked. He hadn't been lying to her at all, he was forthright, concealing his pedigree and success. He didn't seem like the college type at all, let alone athletic. But under the weathering, under the wrinkles and heavy sun beaten skin, he had broad enough shoulders and strong enough arms to have played football. He really had been college quarterback, he really was a veritable tycoon of small businesses, a father of eight, and a powerful older man. She spoke, in shock.

"I... I didn't expect that."

"Not a lot of people do. It's good to be unassuming." He smirked. He knew he had her interested enough, he could see now what she respected, see what she needed. He stood, pushed his chair in and smiled.

"See you around."

Without any pomp, he whistled, hands thrust into his cargo shorts, aged flip flops snapping with his heavy steps as he walked back out and down the deck, disappearing into the masses. She didn't know what to make of him, or any of it. She stood faster than she thought and spoke to Roy.

"Wait... come back. I don't like being deceitful."

Roy grinned before he turned. She had already spoke the words that would seal her fate, deceit and need. He turned and walked back over, removing his grin and speaking firmly.

"It's not deceitful. You earned it."

"I didn't buy it. I didn't do anything to earn it. And... and I'd rather have 2000 dollars."

"Then you got it for free."

She rolled her eyes.

"Listen, I appreciate this I really do, but I don't know your angle."

"What angle?"

"Your reason for interacting with me."

"Just trying to be friendly."

"I have plenty of friends."

Roy's intuition kicked in, he knew just enough of her background to know that was a lie. He would press, knowing it would give her pause.

"Like who?"

Alicia looked over her shoulder.

"My husband."

"Who else?"

She paused for far, far too long.

"Listen I appreciate this but you don't have to do it and..."

"Sometimes you just gotta understand that people do things, because they can. Because they have the choice to do so. Because they have the money. The power. To be so generous. So, enjoy. Ain't gonna get a lotta opportunities like this."

Alicia was flustered, upset, even angry. Noah didn't listen to her, Brett was bordering on antagonistic at times, and here was a vulgar, filthy rich slob who had listened to her. She hated it, and hated even more that she could tolerate it. It was better to be free among the decks and people watch than be locked up in a cold room with Brett or be involved in some hideously boring show with him. She needed space, and when it was it was infringed on by Roy, she was surprised how little it bothered her now.

Alicia headed back to the cabin, Brett smiled at her, he didn't bring up the morning, he had respected her, and knew better than to provoke the relative peace. He turned and spoke to her, the TV a dull droning sound in the background.

"Are you bored as hell?"

"Oh my god yes."

"I'm so bored I'm about to go to an investing seminar. Wanna join?"

"I'd honestly rather slit my wrists."

Brett laughed.

"Well, I guess I'll see you after. Uhhh don't slit your wrists ok?"

"I'll try but I did bring my razor for making sure my swimsuits looked good."

"Great. Let me borrow it later so I can feel a bit better about myself."

He gestured to his crotch as she laughed.

"Stop. You have a fine hog. Come on."

"Well let's see what the best and brightest business leaders have to say about that. Maybe they'll want to invest, you never know!" As he turned and left, polo shirt with slim collar and all white leather sneakers accenting his strong legs, she laughed genuine and pure. Soon, the room was silent.

Another day at sea. Now there was time, the only thing she had. She didn't know why, but she wanted to see Roy, she put on her maroon one piece bathing suit, with a deeper neckline, it's push up cups showing a steep cleavage regardless of her modest size, she slipped into cork wedge heels, and set out to find him, to find anything to make her feel alive.