All She Ever Wanted Pt. 03

Author's Note: This is the conclusion to my first series "All She Ever Wanted". There are far more sex scenes in this entry than the rest of the series combined, hence it's length. I have written the ending to be conclusive, while setting up potential opportunities for further narrative exploration. I cannot guarantee that, as I do not like the concept of sequels at all. But after hearing so much about the enjoyment and sometimes love of these characters, I am tentatively considering it.

I have received a lot of positive feedback and thoughtful criticism from varied authors and readers who do an amazing job of supporting this community. So many have been kind, supportive and offered constructive ideas, hopes, and even desires in their feedback.

Once more, please observe the genre tags, and understand the category this has been placed in. Thank you once more for all the comments and ratings, I will continue to try to respond to as many comments as I can. Enjoy!

Alicia strode gracefully across the deck of the cruise ship, the soft clack of her cork edge heels echoing as the ocean breeze whipped her hair. She hadn't set out to sight see, she needed something, someone, anyone, she even needed Roy. She walked across the deck towards the hot tub, seeing the tumult in the eyes of all those who already began day drinking. Regardless of potential company, it remained empty, free, she threw her wedge heels aside and sank deep into the water.

She closed her eyes and remembered her and Brett's first vacation, to the mountains of North Carolina with friends, her mother reluctantly agreeing to watch Noah, they took to a cabin, that overlooked a vision of all that was right with the world for her, tall trees, slices of light, a pale yellow cutting through branches, motes of dust lit from the stirring of the morning. That same night after their friends retired to bed in drunken slumber, to the hot tub she and Brett remained, both of their red wine stained lips locked under a moonless sky, he had never been more in love with anyone in the world, she had never felt such lust. She could still feel him, tall, defined, broad, as he pulled her from the warmth, towards their bedroom in silence, not a sound between them besides the dripping water of their swimsuits across the floor.

He shut the door behind them carefully, turned on the TV to drown out their inevitable fucking. He ripped her top off, she dragged his wet trunks, to his ankles with a giggle, as she stumbled back. She remembered Brett kicking them hard across the floor, he was so hard, his cock strained, it looked to her like it ached, he picked her up, wordless and driven, throwing her to the bed. He climbed atop her, grabbed the back of her head as she smiled, and brought her mouth to his cock, to suck deep and true, her slender fingers gripping his balls. He moaned, she giggled, as he pulled back, slung her bottoms aside, and pulled her ankles around his shoulders. He grabbed her tits, lightly teasing her brown nipples, and looked her deep in the eyes. She remembered the room spinning, the humidity outside choking, her lips and fingers numb and tingling, she moaned and felt her voice break the silence. The whole entire cabin heard it, the wet slapping, their exultation, the grunts and groans. The next morning, everyone hung over, was an awkward parade of knowing eyes and smirks. They never felt so alive.

The sudden roar of strained laughter from old men, veteran drinking experts crushed her remembrance, the sting of reality creeping back. She tried somatic breathing, to stay calm, but the scent of chlorine, acidic, and pronounced flooded her nostrils, distracting her. The jets below however, were a panacea for her, the balm of heat, inducing a state of pure focus. She remembered to lose her thoughts, intentionally.

Alone she was left to ponder, she was left to forget, the woe within her. Yet, no matter her efforts, the feeling remained, bringing her to the precipice of breaking, no attempt at focus could best what was a looming disassociation. She jolted, eyes widening as the calming waters tipped over the lip of the hot tub, Roy's hulking form stood in it, beer in hand, as he slowly settled down, she saw out of his cheap swim trunks, something that looked like a large sheathed purple egg, it couldn't have been what she thought it was, aghast she turned her eyes away.

Roy had engineered his entrance perfectly, stalking her, examining the ships event schedule, indicating when she would be most likely absent from Brett, making every approach easier. This time, it was a daring distraction, his cockhead barely pulled out of his trunks, knowing she would see it, deny it, and probably think about it every second after. He spoke, still reeking of cigars and far too close to Alicia.

"Well we meet again Alicia."

She clenched her eyes shut and breathed in deeply, exhaling at a steady rate through pursed lips. As she moved away from him before speaking, she sunk lower into the water.

"Yes we do."

He tucked his member back inside his trunks under the distorted blur of bubbles of the hot tub, grinning as he spoke, his confidence palpable.

"These days at sea are absolutely friggin' brutal sometimes."

"Yep."

She was simultaneously repulsed and intrigued by Roy's presence, she could feel him observing her, wearing her one piece maroon swimsuit, the slightest plunge of a neckline, showing her small cleavage, drawing down her stomach and towards her sex buried by the blindness of the tub and the dawning sun, tantalizing, needy. She swore she didn't wear it for him, she wanted to feel good about herself and that was all. He licked his lips, unafraid now, the boundaries worn down before he spoke.

"Excited to show off your bag tomorrow?"

"I'm not obligated to that. I could just sell it you know."

"I don't think you will."

He was right. She wouldn't. She wanted to show it off, barely resisting.

"Maybe I'll bring it to dinner."

"There you go! That's the spirit!"

He slammed the beer can down outside the hot tub, carelessly regarding deck rules. He dipped his hands below the surface, gold rings and a vintage silver Rolex Submariner glistening. He spoke.

"You like traveling?"

"Very much. I know now that I absolutely... do not like cruises."

"Really? I friggin love them, hehe. You got a favorite place?"

"New York City."

"Really? Huh. Is that cuz of the ballet stuff and shit?"

"Partially. It's just, I don't know. It's alive. It never, ever feels dead or dreary. I feel like anything could happen, it's very overwhelming but I love that."

"What a friggin' coincidence. My oldest son Troy lives there. I friggin hate his name. His dumb bitch of a mother insisted on it. Still think it was a dumb choice. Eh. Whatever."

"It's a fine name. But really? NYC proper? God what does he do? It costs a fortune to live there."

"He works at in investment something or another. Head for numbers. Managing portfolios. Smarter than I could ever be! He's about your age. He owns two townhouses there."

"Two!? You're kidding me."

"Do I kid? I mean come on. He does. He loves it. He lives life to the fullest. Takes after his old man that way. In a lot of ways."

He slipped his hand below the surface, adjusting himself, she knew exactly what he meant by that. She couldn't reconcile the moment, but her body told her exactly what was indicated as she felt a warmth spread slowly down her stomach, to her own chagrin. She leaned back against the hot tub, imagining what it would be like, to live a life that free. In such a glorious location. It was a plain fantasy to so many, contrived according to her friends and even Brett, but all what mattered is what it meant to her. Every time she was there, it felt like it was what she deserved, what she should have always had. She sighed and spoke.

"Why do you keep talking to me?"

"Is there a rule that says I can't?"

"No. I just don't understand."

"What mystery is there? I like getting to know people, plus how we met is a funny coincidence ain't it? Funny how we keep meeting right? Like it was... friggin' destiny or something."

"I guess it's amusing. I still don't feel comfortable."

"Well, comfort is just a... wall we put up, right? You choose when to let it down. You're a free woman ain't you? I mean asides from the ring on your finger."

She glanced down at the ring. Again, Roy was right. He spoke.

"Plus, doesn't it feel good to earn a little something for yourself? Like that bag right? You see this Rolex?"

He lifted his hand from the water, showing the too tight silver band, bunching up his thick wrist comically. She knew the dive watch, her father loved, adored and studied watches. By osmosis she knew too much about them. She never wore one, but watches were symbols as much as they are tools. Roy's symbol was clear to her. She spoke softly, running her fingers through her hair as she felt a desire she denied, spreading, rooting, binding. She spoke.

"It's very nice. Vintage."

"It was the first thing I ever bought when I sold my first business. I thought I was a king. Twenty friggin' six years old with a Rolex. Well, I wasn't. I was broke after and my next business totally failed. But I kept this little bastard. To remind me."

"Of what?"

"Of living a little. Of doing things for yourself, even if it means you suffer a bit for it."

She slumped her shoulders and tried to stretch her thighs under the bubbles, pressing her fingers deep into them to tease the knots away. Roy saw the slight movement and thought how good it would feel when those thighs were against his mouth, showing her how a real man could eat her pussy. She strained and stopped, her fingers sliding far too low, brushing against her sex under the water to her own shame. She snapped her fingers back, face blush, she spoke.

"I guess you're right."

"Like wouldn't it be nice to go to NYC for a while? Eh? Just you. Troy has a bed and breakfast too, some friggin' shit like that, bet he could get you a real nice deal on it. Maybe a week, two weeks?"

She shook her head solemnly, the idea immediately appealing, indulging a fantasy that was improbable.

"That's very kind but I don't think I could."

"Why?"

"Well, Brett would want to come with and I would want to go at my pace. Actually enjoy everything instead of..."

"Instead of what?"

"Nothing. Just it would be hard logistically."

"Why would he friggin' care if you went alone? You're alone right now, have been most of the cruise!"

She couldn't explain it. She remained silent, struggling to find the words she needed, and all that remained was a silence, and the unfortunate hardening of her nipples as the wind stirred, clashing against the warmth of the water, she sunk lower to not let his eyes see more of her. Roy spoke.

"Sure. I get it. Shame though. You know I'm still gonna give you his contact shit. You change your mind shoot em a text, tell em Big Daddy sent ya." He laughed uproariously, slapping the side of the hot tub so loud onlookers gave quizzical looks.

"That's nice but I can't do that. I actually really do appreciate it though."

Roy looked at her with a soft glare she had never seen before, a commanding look backed by an agitation that she would forgo his feigned generosity. He knew the effect it would have on her.

"Well. You should consider it. Strongly."

She stood out of the hot tub, turned and exited, he watched her long legs slide over the top, seeing just the slight curve of her firm cheeks under her swimsuit, her strong back guiding his vision down, she clearly adjusted herself, subconsciously, accidentally trying to meet his own actions prior. She spoke barely above a whisper.

"See you later. Thanks for the bag, and the talk"

"Anytime."

She left without looking at him again, towel around her shoulders, wedges held in her hand, feet wet and uncomfortable as she proceeded back inside, guilt already gnawing at her, as she wondered what else Roy was, what he did. There was one last true mystery, was Roy a whore-monger, buying the flesh of others? She already knew the answer. But she wanted to know for sure. She wondered if he would make an offer to her, and to her shock, she entertained the notion. She knew her worth, she knew her cost, she knew what she could provide, she knew she should say no to the preposterous notion. She would always say no.

Alicia walked through the halls, stopping to look at the gold trimmed interior of the walls, parts of the ship corridors and floors built up with a gilded age aesthetic, she never appreciated it before. She went back to the cabin, towel wrapped tight around her as she shivered from the coldness of the room. Brett was stretched out on the bed, he looked at her warmly and spoke.

"Babe. I have the best news possible. I bought us a timeshare!"

Alicia smiled at him, playing along, she spoke.

"Really? When do we start reaping the benefits?"

"That's the cool part, we don't!"

She giggled again, Brett loved her laugh, high pitched and spirited. He loved how she held her hand against her mouth, seeing her delicate short fingers. He spoke.

"You excited about Cozumel tomorrow?"

"Hopeful, not excited though."

"Not a bad way of approaching it really."

Alicia undressed in the bathroom, she felt guilt over her constant interactions with Roy, there was a secretive and planned element to them that was hard to ignore. There wasn't physical attraction towards him, that was obvious. It was something else. That's at least what she told herself, perhaps to ease the fact that there was something tantalizing about that vulgar beast. She was ultimately not just lonely, but empty. She knew Brett tried, and as close as he tried to make them, she repeatedly, impulsively moved further away.

She looked in the mirror, traced her fingers against her sunken eyes, brown eyes flaked with gold stared back, and she barely recognized herself. Brett called out.

"Hey we still have those spa day tickets. Are you interested in having someone put a hot stone on your back? Or perhaps dislocate your arm in an effort to "release tension"? I know I am! Wanna join, or did you want to fly solo?"

"I'm thinking I'd like to just be alone. Just relax."

"That's alright. I get it."

It was a sacrifice he had to make, to offer her space, lest he push her away even further. He walked up to her in the bathroom, put his arms around her thin waist tightly, pulling her close, kissing the side of her neck, she flinched, but felt an ease creep up her spine. He spoke.

"I'll see you soon, don't get into any trouble OK?"

She felt his kiss linger longer than before, and his hands clasp tighter than expected, from his cock being so close to hers, she felt his pants tighten.

He smiled warmly, pleased with the brief encounter, as he walked the halls, inside him a roaring fury, a bitterness that swelled, lust, want, desire choked back every second he spent around Alicia. Her presence was torture, he yearned, wanting her heart, soul, all her warmth. He had tried everything to get her back, to siege the walls she put up, to earn her approval. After their recent attempt at intimacy he was angrier, in a perpetual draining spiral. There was no use talking to her about it, it had all been said, those grievances were reserved for the impartial mediation of their therapist.

He wanted her so badly, his wife, his partner, his best friend. He remembered watching her, a year ago at a local performance of The Nutcracker, spin and nimbly take to the stage in grace and beauty, clad in blue, with white tights, her her sharp features cutting through the dark, she looked like a painting. He had never felt more attracted to her in his life, and never felt more distant. He took so many photos that night, he remembered someone telling him "we take photos of what we will miss the most." He already missed her, yet she was still there. He wanted to make love to her that night, and remember in the quiet dark, she slept soundly and his hands did naught to wake her.

He felt he had made amends for what he had done. His emotional affair with his coworker Chanxin. He never touched her. He could have. It was evident she wanted him badly, seldom a moment or day went by where she hadn't obsessively sent him texts, called him late at night or on the weekend to inquire about his life, brought homemade lunch so they could have a picnic in secret at the far back lot of the office property, underneath towering palms. All of which Alicia noticed, she knew, instinctively, something was wrong.

Chanxin made Brett feel young again, in love again, and he knew every second he spent with her was wrong. She was a waif, so very thin, so fragile, he fantasized of splitting her cunt open, of demolishing her, holding her against the wall, which he could with ease with his strong arms as he fucked her, filled her, ravished every inch of her.

Those moments never came to be. He chose loyalty, without the carnal rewards that he could have pursued. He chose honesty, to live in regret, forever to make amends. Chanxin moved back to Shanghai, being offered a significant role at a marketing firm. He wondered if they had truly consummated their affair, if she stayed, he could have started another family, one where he would have been loved, desired again. He put the notion aside. The spa day for him was relaxing, yet it did nothing to carve away the infinite stress and guilt in his own mind.

***

Alicia tried to nap, she couldn't. Her skin was on fire, her mind was racing, she rubbed her cunt, above the sheets, fully naked, ran and slid her fingers past her black pubic hair, deep into herself, her thumb pressed against her clit rubbing in slow circles, feeling her eyes bind shut with every circle. She stared at the ceiling, groaned and felt the moment leave her again, like trying to grasp at smoke, it ceased, in fury she slammed her fist against the wall. To her surprise she hit hard enough to leave a dent. Her breathing was still rapid, pacing in circles, she knelt down, trying to find stillness, her mind was a storm, without reprieve. She dressed in tight yoga pants, and a plain white midriff, without bra. She didn't care anymore. She hadn't eaten in hours, and only one appetite existed, impossible to fulfill, a creeping mania of lust grasping at her. She left for a late lunch, texting Brett to meet her for a drink when he was done.

She grabbed a salad, wilted lettuce, thinking back to when she was going to become a professional dancer, a diet she loathed, now followed again, she felt like she was wasting away. She stared at the food, dizzy from the boat, from her anguished mania she was failing to avoid. She turned her head and saw Roy, grabbing a burnt piece of steak and holding a massive glass of table wine, sauntering with a look of glee, studying the young college women, as they congregated around a sushi cart. Alicia stared at them as Roy approached, feeling a sense of envy, for their flawless skin, their natural highlights, and bikini clad confidence she had to muster so much for, she felt possessed, and called out to Roy.

"Hey!"

He turned around, his cock grown below his shorts, barely concealed from having stared at the young women for too long. He'd love to pay the tuition for one of them, for a nice two hours of pumping their cunt full of his cum, the pale redhead especially, she looked like a dancer too. He saw the same redhead look at Alicia, and immediately turn her head away, as if ashamed. Roy didn't care. He sat down in front of Alicia. Speaking, restraining his own knowledge that since she called out to him first, it only meant one thing. He spoke as he cut apart his burnt steak.

"We just keep running into each other don't we?"

She nodded, poking her salad with her fork, tense in her speech.

"Yeah. We do. What are you doing today?"

"Huh? Oh, gambling mostly, drinking myself to a friggin' stupor. The usual day at sea shit."

Alicia nodded and looked up, seeing Tania walk by, heels clicking against the deck, smiling wide with bleached white teeth, waving, and winking at Roy, impossible to be perceived as anything other than flirting, an obvious intimate connection existed. Alicia's eyebrow raised, perplexed.

"So, you and Tania know each other?"

Roy chuckled.

"Know? Oh yeah. She was my date for the uhh, luxury evening or whatever. Yeah, we know each other really well. Really, really well."

He grinned again. She knew exactly what he meant, there was no way of denying it. How he managed to land someone like her was beyond the scope of her understanding, there was only one possible explanation. She had to confirm. Roy leaned back, resting his hands over his large stomach and picking out some crumbs from his chest hair from the stale bread he was now eating, no doubt as a base for his intense volume of alcohol later. He spoke half mumbled, bits of bread flaking off with every word.

"Let's just say... everyone has a price. And these women... from these countries-"

He spun his finger around as if the countries in question were all around them.

"They love a little extra money. Money talks, bullshit walks right?"

The answer awaited Alicia. Her voice less than a whisper, barely heard above the shuffling of feet and distant clangs of cookware.

"How much? I mean... for her?"

"5K."

Her jaw slackened. That's barely what she made in one month of long hours, sometimes six days a week, in copious Teams meetings, hundreds of emails, harassment and toxicity in abundance on every front, inescapable. Six years as a project manager and she hadn't even got a raise. She tried to hide her genuine surprise at the figure, failing. She had a feeling that Roy was a man capable of telling wild lies, yet so far, had been forthright on every front, wanting to assure herself she spoke tersely.

"Prove it."

He grabbed his phone, peering at it awkwardly, scrolling through various apps. He turned and showed her two separate transactions, each one $2500 each. She scrolled through it, seeing a payment to"Tania". As she studied the screen, Roy spoke, serious, deliberate.

"For more... expensive opportunities I do crypto.. Some cash as a tip... hehe."

As she handed the phone back she saw on the screen almost every dating app imaginable, a wallpaper of him with three Asian women, in what looked like Thailand. The picture told the same story regardless, a piggish brute of a man that spent whatever he wanted to get what he needed. A veritable waking economy of perversion and excess made manifest.

"Oldest profession in the world and all that shit." He said as he grabbed his phone and waved his hand. He spoke again as he cracked his knuckles.

"Plus. Tania... She's not a whore, she's an assistant cruise director with... entrepreneurial tendencies."

He snorted, sounding like a growling dog, his bushy eyebrows raised at his own amusement. Alicia leaned back in the chair, jaw clenched as she spoke.

"So where do you draw the line?"

He plunged his fork into a piece of the burnt steak speaking with a full mouth.

"What line?"

"I mean what's a... whore or prostitute, escort whatever you call it?"

"For the right price? Everyone."

She pushed her salad away, appetite diminished then completely gone in his last utterance.

"Well. Enjoy your meal."

She stood and pushed her chair in, Roy interrupted as the chair slid, speaking with an authority that came an aged voice possessed of power.

"Listen. It's her choice, I offered, she made it. Where's that money going to? Who knows. Who friggin cares? But it's not in my pocket anymore. It's a transaction. All there is. I don't think less of her, even if she thinks less of me. And to be fair you asked. I didn't lie. I don't lie."

She eyed him up and down, watching him chew the charred meat, his wide jaw clenching and gnawing, leaving hewed chunks he washed down with cheap table wine. She found out exactly what she expected, figuring that maybe he had a point about agency. Alicia slowly pulled her chair out and sat back down, compelled to her own disgust. She started sweating profusely, crossing her arms, her brown nipples slightly visible under her top, she tried to cover them. She sighed and spoke.

"Why though? I mean, why pay?"

"Why not? Listen I'm an old man I don't have time to go play Romeo. I want, what I want. Everyone wants the same things. Money. Sex."

She took a small bite of her salad, a nibble at most.

"Well. I could never imagine doing that."

"What? Paying for it?"

"Well I mean yeah."

"I mean, you're married! You got it anytime you friggin' want. With Brett right? He's a real Romeo ain't he?"

She sat in silence, Roy was still, waiting purposefully. She cleared her throat and spoke, not wanting to change the subject.

"Did she like it? Does anyone you've been with... like it?"

He ate another piece of the charred meat, speaking while chewing.

"Some do. Some don't. Who's keeping score?"

He smiled, crude and grim, his rough beard covering his ruddy skin. She bit her bottom lip leaned forward and spoke.

"Do you keep score?"

"What man doesn't? Some of them are pretty happy. I'm a thoughtful guy. Like I said, I don't lie."

He smirked as he ate more, knowing her primitive side, she was a demure, wounded woman, living a life of anguish, never the easiest quarry, but the most rewarding, especially if she turned out to be as repressed as he imagined. She stood again, keeping her chair open with hesitance, almost falling over, her stomach turning and warming at the same time.

"Whatever. I'm going to get an ice cream. Do you want one?"

He smirked.

"You know, yeah. That actually sounds really good."

"Flavor?"

"I like chocolate."

She nodded tentatively.

"Me too."

Alicia found the idea of respecting a man who paid for sex, was insane. Yet, he brought up agency, choice. Things that mattered to her, about cost, about power, the things she never had and most likely never would. Something remained compelling, to enter a world she could never imagine, maybe a world she wanted to be closer to. She felt her throat tighten, and the room brighten as she spun.

She turned towards the ice cream machine, Roy leering at her small apple shaped rear, accented by her yoga pants. He leaned back in the chair and glanced out at the sea, he licked his lips, first she would bring him ice cream, and soon she would be tasting his own cream.

As she filled the small cones with soft serve she was reminded of her first job at a small ice cream store. She smiled, fondly of when the world was still new. Roy, was new. Her disgust waned, his novelty was illicit, by his own design. She held the ice cream cones and started back towards Roy, dodging shuffling masses of vacationers and fed up exhausted parents, sunburned young women and their pursuers. She saw him observing the sea and the birds that perched alongside part of the railing. She admired his rigid simplicity and vision of the world, it was refreshing, honest, the gray wasn't part of his philosophy.

She felt at least, maybe she could learn something from him, still wanting to keep Roy at arms distance, knowing that Brett would feign being amused by Roy's pursuit if he found out. Alice knew that Brett's confidence, what was left of it, might have evaporated entirely if he knew the truth of what was stirring inside her, of what she was even considering.

She handed Roy the ice cream cone, sitting down in front of him, bowing her head when she ate it, trying to bite more than lick. She felt euphoric, she heard nothing but silence, other's mouths moving, no words heard. She wrapped her tongue around the ice cream, lashed it, nibbled it, as she stared at Roy, smiling as her teeth ached. Roy devoured the cone in nearly two bites. Voracious. He wiped away some of the ice cream around his beard. He looked at her and spoke.

"You know. You could ask her."

Alicia felt weighted. Sick. Sullen and drained. She raised an eyebrow as she wiped some of the fast melting ice cream off her lip, a small drop staining her yoga pants at the knee to her frustration. A sigh before she responded.

"Ask who?"

"Tania."

"Why would I? I believe you. I mean, why would I want to?"

"Yeah but do you believe her? Two sides and all that."

"What are you trying to prove?"

"Nothing. I don't got shit to prove. Maybe just that if you want the full story you hear both sides."

She thought it would be simple, painless, whats the worst that could happen? She had no idea that Roy was already planning an additional payment and message to Tania to ensure she would offer a pitch that would be hard to turn down Alicia set the cone down on top of her wilted salad, done with both, unexpectedly turning the plate over on purpose, speaking with frustration.

"Maybe. We'll see. I'm not trying to understand both sides."

"But you should. I mean, see another world. Ok, let me explain it like this."

Roy leaned forward, his gut spilling over the table as his hairy knuckles reached for his table wine and downing as if it was a shot.

"You know this cruise? It's boring. Cheap. But boring. Cozumel... Cayman islands. Those are other friggin' worlds. But you don't see them. I mean really see them. You see... bullshit. Tourist shit. Relaxing? Sure. Maybe with the right drinks and some... partners hehe. But otherwise it's boring as shit. It's not real. It's uhhh what do you call it, a friggin' theme park. A floating fucking theme park. But, you meet interesting folks. A lot of them if you seek em out. Sometimes you find opportunities that are hard to pass up. Sometimes fortunes if you know where to look. So take a glimpse of something else, see a glimpse of... opportunity."

She heard his words, and it made her upset that he was right, again. Even her and Brett had come to that conclusion that the cruise was a huge mistake. An expenditure of money that they shouldn't have made, and a litany of other things that it could have been used for. She sighed deeply feeling a headache emerge.

"We'll see."

"Listen. I mean, hear me out. You gotta get something out of this."

"I don't want anything."

"Then what do you want? Why are you talking to me?"

She winced and spoke.

"Just walk up and ask her?"

"She'll be at the party tonight. Top deck. At the bow."

Alicia nodded, stood and left without another word. He knew she would go. He made a text to Tania. It was simple. It read:

"Show her the video."

***

Alicia and Brett spent the rest of the day between closeness and quiet, stealing glances at each other's bodies, a wry smile, a frown, a gaze. They ate dinner, simple and fair, Brett drank far too much. They went back to the cabin, and he soon fell asleep. Alicia wore her knee length black wrap dress, it made her feel strong, enhanced her silhouette, added curves she didn't have, didn't truly need. She wore her slingback red bottomed heels on, far too high for her size, and headed back out, she was driven, motivated, excited.

The pulsing sounds of the deck and music was sensory overload for her, piercing beams of neon scattered with contrasting lights, speakers rattled, a million voices yelling over each other. A tall man slapped her ass as she walked by, she turned and shoved him, parting the crowd as the man stumbled back. She ignored his yelling, pulling past hands that tried to stop her.

She stumbled past a wall of lights that bled out across the pool and hot tub, fragments of mirrored smiles and shadows, trying to adjust her posture she walked, she laughed and grabbed a random drink off a table, downed the entire cocktail in a gulp; she slammed her heels into the stairs as she walked towards the bow of the boat, where Tania was supposed to be.

The front of the bow was empty, except for an extremely buxom figure, it was unmistakable that it was Tania in all her altered glory, wearing a silky black dress, thigh split too high past the point of elegance, black stiletto pumps, her neck and ears adorned in diamonds, gazing out to nothing, a testament of perverse poetry. Alicia walked, grasping at the rail, alcohol numbing her, panic and disarray blurring her vision, her steps hesitant. Tania turned, staring Alicia down, observing her long legs carried by heels she could barely walk in, stumbling, ankles pitching with the rock of the ship.

Tania smiled, her engorged filler full lips barely able to pull back, she brushed her pin straight blonde hair back and spoke to Alicia as she helped steady her. Tania spoke, her accent thick.

"Roy tell me you come here tonight. And now, like magic you here. You pretty, very much. Little bit older, but you look good. Nothing some how you say, Botox cant fix. Too thin though. You need eat, no?"

Alicia remained silent, her fingers tightening, her throat closing, she began coughing. Tania took out her phone, and held it out to Alicia, offering her a glimpse of opportunity. Tania spoke.

"You should view? No? You see what good job is, what good money. There is something nice about being with man with no attachments and big uhh, how you say..."

Tania deliberately paused, deliberate, wanting to entice as she was instructed. After all she had a job to do.

"Big bank account? No? Watch. You see."

Alicia remained silent, the phone in front of her face, clad in an ominous glow. She felt detached from reality, her finger trembled as in the low light of the ship deck, as it teetered and rocked, the sounds of reggaeton and the party rumbling in the distance. Alicia pressed play. The video started.

Alicia could see from the video that the phone was set up on a dresser, Tania was on all fours, her over inflated breasts hung down full against the comforter the distortions of her massive implants bulging against her skin and scars, pronounced. Behind her, Roy's form could be seen. He was fully naked, sweating, massive, hideous, he stood above Tania. Alicia saw something, a glimpse of Roy's manhood as he mounted Tania, she could see Tania's eyes roll back. She was paid for a performance sure, but there was a genuine moan from her lips. She knew the sound, it was real. It was the sound of someone being filled. In the video, Tania spoke.

"Oh fuck... you too big! Slow!"

Alicia wondered, how big could he have been? She didn't care about size, she didn't need to, she had only been with Brett who was average, more than what she needed sometimes, she was so small, she couldn't take much anyways. She liked Brett's shape more than anything, it hit all the right spots, more than any toy she had. But she couldn't help but wonder, as the poor lighting and shadows obscured the full sight of Roy, what he had. Tania's heaving breasts saddled against the bed as she looked into the phone and moaned.

Roy drove into her brutally grasping her curvy sides and demolishing her from behind his stomach sliding against Tania's back with each thrust, her enormous tits swung with each pump, her lifted cheeks clapping against Roy's thighs. Alicia could see in the video the bed shake, the headboard slamming against the wall. Tania slowly took the phone back, she saw Alicia's interest was stirred, noticing her face change from shock, to a narrowing of her eyes. Tania spoke.

"You see? It not bad. I make good money. No? It easier than this job. Plus, he good lover. Better than my boyfriend."

Tania giggled mischievously, a casual admittance of her disloyalty. Alicia spoke.

"Let me see the... umm."

Tania cocked her head to the side.

"You want see rest? No? I show you ending, whole thing too long. Best part you see. Here."

Tania skimmed through the video, it buffered, she turned the phone back to Alicia as it played.

Tania was on her knees, very close to the phone, her platinum blonde hair covering her face, her large pale tits occupied nearly the entire frame. From the corner of the frame, there was the barely the tip of a cock, purple, rotund, she could see the hairy knuckles of Roy massaging the tip with a fierce grip, in deep circles, the palm of his hand rotating around his shaft out of frame. It looked like he was using both hands to Alicia. There was no grunt from Roy in the video, he was silent, dominating, his cockhead pulsed, gushing runny ropes of jizz that sprayed Tania's heavy tits as she grasped them together in a mountain of cleavage, his finish pooling over her breasts into a thin glaze. There was a brief pause, as a long strand spilled out of his cockhead, stretching down his shaft, across his fingers, and dripping somewhere out of frame, then he finished, one syrupy, wide thread aimed directly at Tania's face, made impact against her cheek, splashing against her brow and ridge of her nose, forcing her eyes shut in anticipation of a follow up that mercifully wouldn't occur. The cockhead disappeared from frame, a hand towel was thrown at her, the video ended.

Tania closed the video and held her phone in her hand, it was more than a phone at that moment, it was a vision of what could be. It was temptation. Tania spoke to Alicia, direct and confident.

"So, you want his number? You make money too?"

Alicia swallowed, her cheeks flush and reddened, she looked and saw no one, only the pale glow of Tania's phone illuminated her face in the darkness of the bow. Alicia nodded.

"Yes."

Tania took Alicia's phone and added his contact, hidden under a different name. It was the easiest money Tania ever made.

***

It was day four. Cozumel regardless of a promising all inclusive resort, was still not motivating to Brett and Alicia. As they walked towards the beach, Brett paused and stared at a multipurpose shop with large sign outside it advertising their goods. He spoke, full grin, strong jaw and sharp teeth bright.

"Listen, you think I should get you one of those novelty oversize sombreros?"

"I will literally drown myself if you do that."

"A shame, nothing would look better hanging in our room. Imagine, seeing it everyday you go to sleep"

"Stop!"

She chuckled, leaning back on her heels, adjusting her thin black bikini bottoms. Brett grinned and spoke.

"I like what you're wearing."

She blushed. Brett pointed to the sign outside.

"Check it out! Ambien, Adderall, XANAX? Babe I gotta stop in and make a cocktail that's gonna be a wild fucking ride."

She laughed, almost falling over before he caught her. He whispered in her ear.

"Sure you don't want me mix you up something wild?"

She smiled, she saw his eyes, she knew the look, he wanted to fuck her badly, they were intense, layered with a sheen of passion. He hunched over to avoid the sight of his erection in public. He watched her walk towards the beach, laced up mid-calf sandals pulling the golden sand below her steps, her ass clutching at her bikini bottoms, carrying herself with a grace towards the crystal blue water. Regardless of his attire, blue sun shirt, and poorly paired orange shorts, slick with sunscreen, Brett waded in towards her, arms soon around her midsection. He pulled her softly into the waters, waist deep, towards the boundaries of the beach. He kissed her neck and spoke effortlessly into her ear.

"Want me to touch you?"

"Oh my god, Brett, come on."

"Just like we used to. Turn around. Trust me."

To her own surprise, she did. She faced the sun, her long black hair full of volume from the sea salt spray, a fine white lock lingering at the back, the smallest signal of age, Brett kissed her neck and bit slightly, drawing his tongue against her neck to her lobe. Her lips paused as she exhaled, and spoke.

"Stop, come on, please..."

"You don't want me to stop. I can tell."

She didn't respond, she leaned back against him as his hand slid down the front of her bikini, through the water, migrating to her sex, his fingers laid upon her. Her heart quickened, heat filled her stomach. He whispered in her ear, pulling her closer, his cock full against her rear.

"You realize I'm not going to be able to go back on the beach to get you that xanax cocktail till I fuck you right?

She laughed again, lungs tight, her core clenched, her tongue brushed against her teeth, she raised her hand and plunged her feet into the soft sand below, strong tides tugging at her thighs as she tried to find her balance. He whispered into her ear as he slid his finger inside her, thumb pressed against her clit.

"Like this?"

She grasped his hand and moved it lower, she couldn't stifle the moan that came out as his hand settled, his voice was calm, strong.

"You feel familiar."

"I'd hope so"

"Do you miss this?"

She paused, as his thumb pressed into her clit, firm but gentle, a modest pressure, gentle and loving, she nodded.

The afternoon sun was too bright to sustain, so they turned slowly away from it. His fingers worked against her, against the cool waters he could feel the strain of her lips, as his fingers rubbed against her. Brett was silent, he felt her hand grasp his wrist, not knowing it she should pull him away, or push him further. She settled on the former.

"We can't. Not here."

Brett gestured to a small bathroom across from them.

"Let's go there. Come on."

"I..."

Her eyes widened and she felt tears down her cheeks, she smiled far too wide and suddenly pulled him, the shadows of the quickened clouds covering them as she dragged him violently towards the stall.

They cared not for the gaze of others, stepping inside together. Brett was stunned, still not expecting her to have acquiesced, he knew something was wrong, but he wanted this far too badly. She was all he thought about. Alicia immediately knelt, compelled, her knees touched the warm concrete, every broken fissure scuffing her, she took Brett's cock, free from his trunks, and she licked, from thick pink tip to hilt. She felt his hand reach around her head, gentle, loving, fingers grasping between her black locks. He looked up at the top of the bathroom stall, the roof ending an abrupt form, poorly established plastic, every heat warped inch was something he saw but never thought of again, already forgotten, this moment was his wife's lips, her soft movements against his hardening cock, on her knees, his cock her sacrament, sucking and licking, her hand working towards his balls, cupping them as if to worship their weight. She could feel hear own heart beat faster in her brain, a repeated thrum of blood sounding in her ears, as she sucked and hummed and drooled down his shaft, her eyelids fluttering as she strained to look up, but couldn't. She couldn't meet his eyes. She never could. Things were too bright, she felt so sad, she felt so happy, she felt so trapped, she felt so free.

It wasn't long before she felt his strong fingers grip the back of her head, his release smooth, coating the back of her throat. She sucked it down, with a hunger she hadn't felt in years. He amazingly remained silent, the only sound, that of his head smashing against the stall as he came. Not an utterance or declaration, passion only, she sucked, gagged, the cum traveling down his shaft. He let go of her head and pushed the lengths of her hair behind her ears, tucking them back neatly as she breathlessly leaned back, a thick strand of him stretching betwixt her tits clad still in her black bikini top.

There was only the sound of the ocean against the breach. He helped her stand, she wiped away the load from her thin lips and kissed him, he embraced her, like they did so long ago, swapping every instance of his own seed between them, tongues intertwined in a salty spectacle of lust, love, pain. He bit her lip as she pulled away, her face a mess of drool and cum. He wiped it away with his thumbs softly, she was perfect to him, for him, in years he had never imagined he would feel this way again. He was also worried, he couldn't deny it, yet he was terrified to ask what it was, not wanting to jeopardize future relations, thinking that maybe this cruise could save them. He took her to the shower outside to wash away the remnants of their joy away from them both, the drops of cum forced down the drain next to thickened, muddy sand.

For the next hour they didn't speak, retreating to empty chairs under umbrellas that shielded them from the cascading sun. Brett broke the silence.

"Hey, I'm... I'm going to go look for cigars I think. Just something, special? To enjoy tonight or tomorrow or whatever... I just need something."

"You don't smoke."

"I don't. But on special occasions."

Her cheeks flushed and she pushed her large sunglasses down further as if to obscure her prior behaviors in shame she didn't deserve She gave him a thumbs up and spoke.

"I might go look around at shops or whatever. We can meet back here ok? Like an hour. Just text me."

He nodded, kissed her forehead and left.

As she laid, she thought about praying, like she used to as a young woman, when her stomach was full with Noah, light pushing through colored glass at the alter of a church, for mercy, for sanity, for clarity, an augur to guide her. The sun beckoned, the waters welcomed, the world seemed at peace, so she sought to explore, to justify the luxury bag buried inside her yarn knit purse to find her opportunity. She retrieved her phone, and texted Roy:

"Hey. It's me, Alicia."

***

Roy was far too busy to answer.

He was intimately familiar with Cozumel as he was with nearly all of Mexico, having favorite haunts, knowing every congregation of whores, handlers, pimps and madams. Occasionally he would try to find someone or something new. He had a tip from one of his favorite expats, a man who went by "Sammy" who was even by Roy's standards, unnerving. But, Sammy was beyond reliable when it came to knowledge of the local brothels and independent networks.

Roy traversed a series of small stucco buildings and knew as he maneuvered past the crowds of local workers and residents he was headed towards the right place. The further he immersed himself away from cheap shops and signs in English, the closer he was to the actual soul of the place he yearned for. In a plain concrete building, that looked unfinished there was a small sign that indicated the presence of a power company, albeit a fictional one. That was the spot according to Sammy. He went, knocked and the door opened.

A madam, welcomed him in, no mistaking Roy's intent, she waved her hand, women appeared. The selection bored him, he asked to see more, fresher ones. Often, Roy couldn't get away with an "accident" so he preferred starting bareback. He didn't mind condoms, with certain flavors of whore they were a necessity, but he preferred expanding his lineage, he loved a broken knocked up whore. After thirty eight countries in five years, he hadn't once caught anything, getting his blood work done nearly every month. He had experience, the newer the whore was, the safer.

The lineup changed, he pointed to the last. Romina was twenty years old, with chubby round cheeks, black hair, bangs cut far too short, unflattering to her youthful face, and large wide brown eyes and a slight belly, short torso with thick thighs, cellulite visible around her waist. Her breasts were well proportioned to her frame, thick, full, heavy, her skin tan. Roy liked what he saw immensely, she was like the girls he used to fuck at college parties, easy, unappreciative of their bodies and ashamed because they weren't flawless and rail thin, usually willing to do anything to earn their worth or lack thereof. She would be a perfect breeding sow. He turned to the madam and spoke.

"How much?"

"Two hundred dollars."

A bargain. He knew how to secure the deal. It was easy to get robbed, especially when isolated, but some money had a way of guaranteeing safety. He handed the madam another five hundred.

"For you. Comprende?"

The madam nodded. She handed him a condom. He knew exactly how to handle this. He had the wallet to do so.

Roy always tried to be giving, in his own way, after all, the experience of fucking a whore was always better if he could her that she was valued, make the bitch cum, they'd never forget him, maybe even want seconds. He grabbed Romina, her ill fitting white and worn lingerie barely clinging to her figure as he growled. He grabbed her by the throat, she choked and coughed as he squeezed tight and threw her against the wall, she slunk to her knees.

"Time to teach you a lesson, you worthless hole."

She shook her head, feeling tears well up in her eyes, she heard men could be ruthless, brutal but nothing like this. Roy approached a stalking beast, grabbing her short hair, shoving her head against the wall as he shelved his stomach on her head, below it lied a monster.

"Chupar."

She didn't know what to do, his member was gnarled and crooked in the low light, bulbous crown dwarfing the thick shaft as precum dripped down her wide nose as it rested across her face, she bit her lips and tried to grasp his hairy thighs, he swatted her hands away and rammed himself, past her plump lips into her throat, her teeth scraping against his girth.

"There we go. Nice little throat. Tight. Maybe too small. Don't worry, I'll leave you nice and loose."

She gagged and placed her hands on the wall behind her trying to steady herself in her black, cheap heels, she felt her ankle slip as he thrust deeper into her throat, she couldn't breathe as his massive hand forced her lips closed against his hilt, her eyes wide, hair ragged and damp. Romina resisted every inch, every scent, every sour taste that burnt her throat and tongue she whined and shook her head. He used both hands to hold her head straight as he facefucked her. He laughed, speaking low into her eyes.

"You need training my little hole. Daddy loves a good throat fuck, now open wider, what's a matter? Too big for you?"

She looked up, her eyes swollen, snot dripping down her round nose along his shaft; s glistening trail of excitement slid between her thighs. Roy grinned, mocking her pleasure with a slight caress of her cheek before slapping her.

"Oh you're wet huh? You like this?"

He slapped her again, this time hard enough to leave a bruise, her head snapping to the side as his cock popped out between her lips with a loud pop.

"I didn't say stop whore."

He grabbed her head and forced her down again.

"Good little whore. My, aren't you talented? I bet you'd like to have all those holes filled. Turn around. Face the wall you fucking dumb cunt."

He grabbed the back of head head and spun her around, the madam stepping closer concerned for the young woman being treated like a toy.

"I've got a lot of friends who would like you, those thick thighs, that round ass, yes I bet they would. "Sin condón? Bareback."

Roy threw the condom aside, not caring. The madam angry, but not intervening, money was money and she knew he could pay for it. For now, Romina was going to be Roy's breeding stock, and there was nothing she could to stop it. He slapped her cheek, harder than before, producing a shallow sound that dulled and died in the small room, he notched himself at her cunt and thrust in, full, deep, her guts clenched.

"Oh aren't you tight? What's a matter? Never had your fuckhole stuffed? Spread your legs."

He forced her legs apart and kicked her ankles, slouched heels fallen, her face pressed against the cold worn wall, every thrust slamming her head against it.

"There we go... you like daddy's cock?"

She whimpered and between her swollen and bruised lips muttered "Si, si."

"Yeah? You're so pretty. What a pretty face. Pretty little cunt. Not so tight anymore are you though?"

She winced and moaned, to the astonishment of the madam and other whores.

"Yes that's right, let go, cum on my cock like the worthless hole you are."

He balled the back of her black hair into a fist, and pressed her face flush against the wall as she gasped, glassy eyes obscuring her sight.

His phone buzzed in his back pocket, a text, he didn't have time, he didn't care, he was too busy enjoying his purchase. He slapped the woman's ass, again and again, leaving red marks, sure to bruise, he saw the grimaces of the other women who were glad it wasn't them, even as they saw her creamy cunt leave a sheen of lube down his shaft.

"You like it don't you whore? Like it right? Like it rough? Si?"

He slapped her again, causing her spit to coat the wall she moaned and ached, her thick thighs clenching.

"That's right little whore." His large fingers slid against her clit from behind, clasping around it, firm fingers swirling, her mouth dropped, never used to a man her age ever attending to her at all, and even in her terror, it felt good.

Roy's pace increased, the madam grew increasingly angry, her face marked with a horrible bitterness. Romina felt the undeniable warmth of an orgasm spread through her, caressing her thighs down to her toes, woozy, her breath unbalanced, her chest aching, large brown nipples swollen, she pushed back against him, her cheeks clapped against his thighs, no matter how hard her thrust, his legs wouldn't dare budge. Roy licked his chapped lips and gripped her thighs, smashing her head into the wall as she moaned, he hosed down Romina's once empty cunt with his ceaseless, filthy torrent. Her gaping hole, collapsed and contracted violently, sucking at the void his cock left as she moaned. He turned her around and dropped her. On her knees, she felt his remnants still dripping out, strands of vile seed leaking below on the unfinished floor, she was utterly conquered, body primed for conception. Sucking. Aching.

Roy forced her to worship him, dragging his semi hard cock across her face.

"Sniff it. Lick it clean."

The madam nearby gawked, her revulsion undeniable, yet Romina embraced it, she was earning her keep, an earnestness in her body that couldn't be denied as she licked his ridge and cupped his balls dragged and struggled to grasp his still hard shaft, breathing in his musk, sour and sickening, the rest of the women watched and laughed. Roy stepped back, zipped up his shorts, turning to the madam.

"She's a good one. I'll be back in two months. I want to see her again, I'll be bringing some buddies though."

"How many?"

"Four. Maybe five. I'm sure she can handle it."

"Oh she can."

Roy turned to Romina.

"See you later sweetie. Me and my friends are gonna have a lot of fun with that tiny slit of yours. Oh, and by the way, enjoy carrying my bastard, hehe."

Romina moved her hand across her stomach and shook her head, she could feel his potency, she did everything she could to scoop his batter out of her, she had a horrible sensation he was right.

Roy exited, whistling. He checked his phone. A message from an unknown number, but there was no hiding who it was. It read:

"Hey. It's me, Alicia."

He leaned against the wall outside, the yelling between Romina and her madam growing louder. He chuckled and texted back.

"hey good 2 hear from u. was meeting with a nice friend, local, real sweet, could be your younger sister actually hehe, reminds me of u. u ashore?"

It was a second before she replied.

"Yes."

***

Alicia walked the shops, sandals off, feet pressed firmly against the broken old pavement, her chest pressed out, a monument to her own matured, flawed beauty. She observed the stands and smiling faces of those offering jello shots, cheesy sombreros, photo opportunities with candy skull masked actors, posturing, she thought about taking a photo, something to send to Noah, something to let him know she cared and thought about him. She knew he wouldn't care.

She stepped between two buildings, in the shade out of the sun, feeling herself growing warmer as her throat closed, and choked, as if filled with sand. She placed her back against the cool wall of an alley clutched between two old buildings to relieve her burning skin. She choked again, sputtered, grimaced and placed her hands against the wall behind to find stability, a mania erupted inside her that made her mind race, her cunt throb her nails dig into her skin, snapping acrylics off as she choked and grunted, punching the wall in front of her, her knuckles bloodied. She knew this. It was panic, it was mania, it was anxiety, unarmored and visceral.

She felt every thought, every idea, all at once. Vision blurring.

She was everything, all she knew and would know and was and could be and felt and could feel intertwined at the juncture of her heart and loins, tears shed, smiling, grimacing, laughing, sobbing, she was a goddess she was unstoppable, she was perfect she was deserving she was broken she was worthless she was a whore she wanted cock, she wanted Brett she wanted Roy she wanted it all, she deserved it, she should have it.

She caught herself as she slunk against the wall, her arms numb as the world tilted and spun, she gritted her teeth as she fell back to reality, head throbbing, mouth dry, sobbing uncontrollably. She wiped her hands across her cheeks. Her internal thoughts wouldn't cease, wouldn't end.

Her son would hate her and always would like she hated herself, her husband would love her forever like she would hate herself, she felt him, like she never could, she never felt anything anymore a memory, a long light that stretched down a valley of pine as he pinned her, she moaned and her breath hitched and the smell of whiskey flooded her nose, drunk and giggling as the warmth of Brett's seed filled her.

This was now. She sat, in an alley where no one knew she was, shadows cast along her slumped form as she sobbed, head between her legs, eventually yelling into the crook of her arm, a muffled roar, kicking her feet against the wall, pedicure ruined as she slammed her head back, pain, pressure angular throbbing against her neck. The panic and anxiety subsided, the attack, once ceaseless, ended.

Alicia stood, trying to be strong, she dragged the snot from her nose off with the back of her hand, cleared her throat, adjusted her posture and walked back into the world as if nothing had even happened, she was sure nothing happened. She told herself she was just tired, too excited, had too much to drink. She walked towards a shop of convincing luxury bootlegs, bags shirts, watches, all the things she came to recognize as signs of value, class, and all she knew to be meaningless products stitched and assembled by the broken hands of broken people in places she never even heard of.

So she went, inside and smiled at fake luxury sunglasses, ran her fingers along the bags, the owner said something to her, she ignored it, she stepped out reached into her own bag, and slung the authentic Saint Laurent bag around her dainty chest. Her reflection in the gold buckle made her chuckle and than felt tears form at the corners of her eyes as she discarded the other yarn bag into the trash. She looked up. There he was. Roy, wearing a wide grin, stomach covering his barely buttoned shorts, dirtied flip flops clinging to his hairy feet, toothpick in his teeth smug and evidently satisfied. Roy spoke.

"Nice bag. You wear it like a friggin' runway model"

"You scared the shit out of me."

"Well, apologies. Feels good don't it?"

"What?"

"Having that."

Roy gestured to the bag as Alicia put her hand on her hip turning slightly to show it hang properly, accenting her slender shoulder.

"It's... nice yes. Yes it does feel good."

"Surprised Brett ain't never bought you a bag like that"

"I don't really like gifts. He knows that."

"You like this one."

"I just... it was unexpected and I would never have asked for it otherwise."

"Unexpected gifts can sometimes be the best gifts of all, hehe. Gifts can be opportunities. Like the little gift Tania showed you last night."

Alicia knew that what he wanted, what he was doing. She couldn't deny it anymore. She didn't know if that was what sparked her anxiety attacks, her panic. She knew she was tired, stuck in a long cycle of depression and anxiety, of denial, she was coming to embrace that part of her wanted this badly.

Roy stood, his length still visibly hard inside his stained shorts, she couldn't doubt what it was, she knew it's shape from the hot tub. She tried to avert her eyes, barely. Roy spoke adjusting himself explicitly.

"So, Tania told me. About last night. What did you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what did you think about what you saw?"

"I don't know. I don't know what I think anymore." She knew. She liked it. The look on Tania's face, the casual frankness of it, her performance. He spoke, slow and quiet.

"You don't gotta think all the time. Gives you wrinkles hehe. Bet you got a lot of tension. Too much."

Roy stepped forward, he slid his hand under her chin and raised her head. He spoke.

"I can help with that."

She pushed his hand aside, not with force, delicately.

"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help."

Roy nodded. He cleared some snot out of his nose on the ground.

"So, let me ask you a question sweetie. Same one I asked Tania."

She looked at him, the sun just a razor of light cutting between the two buildings they stood below. He spoke.

"How much?"

Alicia went to speak. She opened her mouth. She closed it and leaned back against the wall. The world around her grew dim she dug deeper than she ever had, finding the last shard of herself, her dignity, her pride.

"You can't buy me."

"25K. One hour."

The shard that was Alicia broke instantly. She was still, she then nodded, as her mouth hung open. She grabbed her sandals, turned and began speedily walking away shaking her head. Roy grinned as he, watched her lithe form break away from dark, tan skin radiant as she blended back into the crowd. She was his.

The price tag in Roy's mind was excessive. Alicia was no young model, adult film star, or OnlyFans idol, but Roy wanted to savor, to claim, to conquer. She would be worth every penny, he was sure of it. He wondered if he should make a movie with her. Just to remember the occasion, he always loved mementos after all.

***

Back on board, Brett still had trouble believing what had happened, he didn't want them to regress, and it burned to keep it inside, to tell her what she made him feel today, wanting to ask her every question he could. Dinner was held in silence. He noticed that Alicia looked disheveled, tired, tears grasped at her eyes randomly. They retired, to their cabin, held each other, Brett fell fast asleep, trying to hold her close, bring her comfort as he grew increasingly worried about her. Alicia didn't want to go out, didn't want to explore, didn't want to exist. She nestled her head onto Brett's shoulder. She kissed his forehead, she closed her eyes, and didn't sleep. Her mind spiraled, raced, thunderclaps of emotions tugged at her brain, she felt it again, her heartbeat too loud, percussive, drowning out the teetering hum of the ship. For hours she laid awake, staring at the ceiling, sometimes moving her hand between her thighs, clenching, unwilling to embrace her own need. She gave up, stood, and dressed, grabbing a babydoll romper, flowing and effortless, with a scooped neckline and required bike shorts below, it's hem too high for her comfort. It was in black, her favorite color, she slipped on cork soled Mary Janes, also black. She looked in the mirror, let her hair flow and noticed her sunken eyes, she wondered if she slept in days.

In the early morning, she headed up to the top deck, the sun combed through the ashen clouds, a spectacle that stilled her for a moment, as she held her phone to her ear and called Noah. The signal was poor. He answered to her astonishment, his voice hushed and full of laughter, busy in his own life.

"Hey ma."

"Noah... oh my gosh I wanted to talk to you! I'm so so, so so so sorry for before."

"Ma... I don't get it, sorry for what?"

"For... for what I said about Reagan she's a bitch and a loser and it's not fair, because well you know, I'm not like her so I don't approve, shes not very good for you. She's just not good, but it's ok! I'm ready to listen now. Pa is right she loves you so so so so much. And it's amazing! It's so amazing, and I'm so happy for you both. And I want you to know I'm sorry ok? Please forgive me. I need you to tell me you forgive me."

"Ma... thanks I guess, but I'm really worried about you. You don't sound right. Can I talk to Pa?"

"No no, he's sick I'm ok it's alright. I want to talk to you how's school? Have I ever told you how proud I am of you? How is Reagan? She's well right? I thought I could pay for your wedding, as a token, as a way of saying I approve, I'm so sorry about what I said, I really, really am. I know I said it for years and years I called her a lot of names and I'm so sorry."

Noah spoke, cold and distant.

"Ma that's super generous and we can talk about it later, but I gotta go. Could you have Pa call me later?"

The line went dead.

She grasped the phone and held it between her hands as if to break it, she fell to her knees and screamed at the blank screen before a staff member asked if she was alright. She ignored them and walked away.

She stood and walked to the rail, watching the waves cut below the ship. Against a mass of burning light and length of day, the ship teetered, skipped, embraced every wave, astride every mile of the ocean gone to a blue void. She wished she could jump in, let the undertow steal her breath. Instead, she studied her bank account, thought of all the good she could do, thought of all she deserved, all Brett deserved, all Noah deserved. She texted Roy.

"Hey."

In Roy's room, Tania was on her knees, still wearing her uniform, blue heels dug into the ground as she serviced every inch of Roy's cock. Licked and lavished, twisted her filler accented lips into a spiral as she cupped his heavy balls, her mascara two long black streams that ran down her glowing cheeks. Her forced Tania's head down his improbable hilt as she gagged more, snot dragged from her skinny nose across his shaft, sliding down to rest on the bed below. He forced her further, pace slow, fucking her face as she choked, balls slapping against her angular chin. He texted Alicia back.

"change ur mind?"

Alicia slunk down into a nearby deck chair. She agonized. She texted back.

"Maybe."

Tania slurped and winced, her bloodshot eyes wincing shut against the light of the cabin. Roy slapped her hard as she tried to regain her breath, her head tilting to the side with a crack. Roy growled.

"I didn't say stop you dumb fucking whore. Better hurry so you can get a new shirt, gonna have to look presentable to those stupid fucks out there." Roy grabbed a fistful of Tania's hair and impaled his cock down her throat, it bulged. With one hand, Roy texted Alicia back as he had firmly held across Tania's head as she choked and kicked her legs, heels scraping against the floor.

"don't got time for games. what's ur price?"

He sent the message with relish, as he jerked Tania's head back, angling his swollen cockhead at her face, blasting a series of violent thin jets of cum on her brow and up her nostrils as she recoiled, gagging. He let the rest spill unto her cleavage, flinging drops on her neck, he slapped her hard after, bruising her cheek.

"I'll give you a tip, don't worry. Now get the fuck out of my sight." Tania stood adjusting her blouse, the cruise line logo marbled in thick cum paste and drool. She looked at Roy, angry, but remembered what she had already earned. In her mind, it was worth it. It was always worth it, as she licked part of his cum, feeling her thighs clench. After a minute, Alicia texted back.

"Meet me at the deck."

Full of barely contained rage even with his balls drained, Roy dressed hurriedly, sick of Alicia's games.

On the top deck, Roy emerged, looking through the crowds, and seeing Alicia looking off the side of the boat. He walked up, his dirty shirt buttoned only at the waist. He spoke.

"Well. I'm here."

Alicia didn't look at him. She took to the ocean, breathed in the salt, saw a gust that carried a flock of birds on it, fighting back the inevitable. She spoke.

"One hour?"

Roy nodded, he could feel his cock stiffen already.

'Yeah. One hour. Whenever you want."

"25K?"

Roy nodded and spoke.

"Expensive. Don't go thinking those are average friggin rates." He roared and laughed, she waited, the silence threatening. He spoke.

"I was just messin' around. Besides, I can tell you're worth every penny. I love a woman who values herself."

"Pay me."

"I don't pay before I get what I want."

"Pay me 5K."

"You aint no friggin negotiator I can tell you that. I'll do Bitcoin."

"No. You can for the rest. I want 5K now. Like... a down-payment. Whatever app we need to get it done."

Roy grimaced, he grabbed his phone, quickly sending her the payments, she saw the deposits made. She felt woozy, there was no going back. Her skin grew cold, she felt like a ghost, she dry heaved over the side of the ship, nothing but bile. She gasped and held her breath, cheeks bulging as she leaned back. Roy spoke.

"Hey, ease down. You look sick."

"I'M FINE."

Her head buzzed, heart fluttered, pressure innate, spread through her stomach and up her throat, she thought this must be what it's like to die, she was sure she would. Than she laughed, stifling herself and eventually biting into her hand and spoke after.

"How can I explain this money? How would I? I just what, found it? Won a lotto ticket?"

Roy shrugged. He spoke plainly.

"He doesn't have to know. Get your own bank account. Get more crypto. Just for you. Buy whatever you want... do whatever you want."

She remained silent. He was smug, but firm, his confidence and relaxed tone only adding to his authority. He spoke.

"You know, not everything needs to be known. Some secrets, stay secrets. They don't hurt no one."

"You think he'd be ok with this?"

"Fuck no. What man would? Well, I mean there are some twisted fucks out there, trust me, I would know, hehe."

"Why am I doing this?"

"Because you want to do it. I can tell. You know..."

"What?"

"I got friends all over. Business partners. Imagine making more money in a month than you made all year."

"I'm not going to become a whore if that's what you're implying."

"No, no. An entrepreneur. An opportunist. A short term gig, for the longest term value you could ever imagine. Think of this... like a trial run."

He looked at her, his cold eyes wandering over her body, devouring every inch. She didn't entirely dismiss the thought. She spoke softly.

"Brett's a good man. He doesn't..."

"Have to know. Yeah. I'm sure he's a good guy. Seems like it."

"You don't feel bad in the slightest?"

"Maybe a little" he didn't feel bad even one bit, in fact it was a tremendous motivating factor for him.

"Only a little?"

"Listen I've slept with plenty of wives, girlfriends, whatever. It doesn't matter. It's business. Think about the things he does you don't know."

She did. She knew most of them, especially the emotional affair that lurched dangerously close to physical. She believed him when he said nothing had happened. She never knew if he was being truthful, she always suspected more. She knew that what she was about to do, was something she would never want Brett to know, she loved him. Roy spoke.

"Text me an hour before you want to arrive. Nothing fancy. I don't give a shit about any of that."

Roy lit his cigar. Alicia grinned, thin lips peeled back, eyes widened, predatory, she spoke.

"You want to gamble?"

"Huh? At the casino?"

She cut him off.

"No. I have a proposal."

"Oh?"

"Double it."

"Double what, the money?50K? Hehe, that would be a record for me. Ain't never spent that much."

"You like gambling, right? You even told me, there are "winners and losers" right? You know exactly which one you are. You're a winner. Right?"

Roy paused for a minute. He glanced around, not concerned about the context of their conversation, but rather how deprived she looked. He spoke.

"Pretty bold. Pretty friggin' bold. What's your game?"

"You have to watch. You have to watch Brett have sex with me."

Roy nearly choked.

"HA! You're kidding right? Friggin' Romeo? Can he even get hard anymore? I can tell, you keep that sissy locked away without a cage don't ya?"

"I'll stream it. You can watch. Wouldn't you like to watch me? Don't you want to watch me? Wouldn't it be fun? You ever watch a woman with her husband who she loves and you ever seen someone make love? Have you ever been in love? I have. I am. Imagine how good it would look... how good I would look."

Roy stepped back. He wondered if he had pushed her too far. But, it was appealing. Both the wager, and a manic woman, desperate, even easier to persuade, to do horrible things. He wanted her for himself though. But it was a curious wager, one he'd never truly experienced. He clapped his hand against the rail.

"Hubby may be dumb, but he ain't an idiot, what are you gonna do? Blindfold the fucker?"

"He's not dumb. At all. And yes I am."

"Interesting. Yeah, I'm friggin in. But I determine the conditions."

"Fine."

"First, he has to last twenty minutes. Minimum. Four positions. If he can't make it twenty friggin' minutes, with four positions? It's over. I win. And I'm gonna time this shit. And just so you know, a fucking blowjob don't count as a position. So what do I get if I win?"

"He has to watch you fuck me."

"Oh now that is a really good friggin' deal. Hehe. I'm in. Don't worry though, I'll still pay you. Less of course. But I'm a man of my word, 15K total. But I get to tie him up if I win, got it?"

"Deal. 9:00 I'll stream. I hope you're ready."

"Ready to win? I always win."

***

The day languished for Alicia, she steeled her nerves, disappeared from Brett after dinner to his frustration, his worry about her mounting, she headed to the bar on the lowest deck, sat down, ordered the same martini, familiar, plain, soothing, constant. A young woman sat next to her cradling her head on the verge of tears. Alicia immediately recognized her, the young ballerina she saw in the hall during her act of voyeurism, from the studio. The young woman's eyes widened as she saw Alicia and immediately blushed in guilt, she had seen Alicia earlier at the buffet. Alicia tried to produce a smile, awkward and pained, not knowing what to say to comfort the young woman, she made an attempt.

"You go to the same... studio right? I'm so sorry I know we've spoke before I can't remember your name."

The young red headed woman grimaced as she bit her lip.

"Mia. My name is Mia. I really didn't expect to see you here. Small uhhh world I guess. Like I'm so sorry but your name is..."

"It's Alicia. It's ok it's not like we've talked much. We mostly just shared tips, I think I coached you for a session, maybe two. You're a very talented ballerina."

"And a shitty fucking girlfriend."

"Come again?"

"You saw me. I know you saw me. I don't need to like, go over it. We were both so shitfaced and I thought he was hot, and it got so out of hand. I would normally never like... do something like that in public. I fucked up so bad and my boyfriend was sent that video from that fucking asshole. I feel like a piece of shit. Fuck my life."

Alicia nodded, she stared at her wedding ring before speaking.

"We all make mistakes. It will hurt but, you can move on."

"I really like appreciate the advice but I don't need it. Not trying to be like rude, I just, I know I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. And that fucker didn't even like say anything after, he just walked away. I felt so fucking used. No, like I was used."

Alicia bit her tongue and spoke to Mia.

"What did you get out of it?"

"What?"

"What did you get out of it? I mean, being with him. That man."

Mia paused she looked around the room.

"I don't know you well enough to tell you that ok?"

Alicia nodded. Mia's gesture indicated everything. Alicia saw Mia's thigh quivering orgasm firsthand. That's what she got, moments of bliss, to lose everything else.

Alicia finished her drink and gently placed her hand on Mia's shoulder.

'It's going to be ok. I promise. Hey, let me give you my number ok? We can just talk about ballet, or something. I know it's a lot what you're going through."

To Alicia's surprise, Mia accepted, they traded contacts, Alicia bought her a drink and left abruptly. She felt woozy, finding it hard to swallow, she almost fell twice, but made it back to the cabin. It was 8:50. She slammed the door behind her, Brett nearly jumped off the bed. He exclaimed.

"Shit! You scared me! Where have you been? I sent you a bunch of texts. What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I am, really."

Alicia turned off the TV, it's screen dulled to a shimmering black. She grabbed her black stockings from her lingerie and began wrapping it around tightly Brett's eyes, he didn't offer resistance, he wouldn't dream. He smirked and spoke.

"What's gotten into you?"

She placed her finger across his lips, and stripped him down.

"I want you to fuck me. Like you used to. Like when you knocked me up."

Brett felt his cock twitch, that was over twenty years ago. He tried to stay calm, he wanted to remain stoic, proud, defined, he felt himself flex his muscles, his posture adjusted, his mindset fixated, this was his chance. This was his chance to reclaim her, from the void that lied between.

The timer started. First position.

Alicia took her phone, pressed it to mute, began streaming to Roy, stripping, pressing her small breasts together and bending over towards the phone to tease and mock, seeing Roy's face calmly stare back at her. She set the phone down on the edge of the bed. It showed Brett, hard as a diamond. She straddled him as she pushed him back, long nails tracing his chin. He gripped her waist tight, hands strong, clutching her naked form, he thought she was too skinny, fasting from life, he would fill her. She straddled him, and lowered herself down slowly on his length. He kept still, let her ride.

Brett's head fell back against the pillow, her slender hands fell on his chest, grasping, leaving red prints he was still, a toy for her. She squeezed her thighs together, her cunt gripped, she was tighter than he remembered, a soft grunt escaped his lips. He ran his hand against her stomach, running across her minor scars, across her navel, up to her breasts. He cupped them firmly as she leaned over, her breathing hurried. Roy watched, curious, surprised even. Alicia's tight ass lifted and slammed down, on the cusp of Brett's cock, eclipsing his pink cockhead, a translucent slickness running down her thighs.

Brett remained silent. He was focused, driven. His hands squeezed her tits roughly, he pressed them together as he lurched upright, his hands pulling her towards his groin blindly. He bit her neck and pulled at her arms, throwing her down against the bed. He lifted her ass, bringing her cunt's brown lips to his cock, he thrust in as he grabbed her waist a rhythm, slow, deep, burying himself, grinding his teeth.

Five minutes. Second position.

Roy was convinced he had been cheated. He wasn't nervous, he knew he was going to win. Yet still, he remained furious that such a weak, average cocked man was dominating her She belonged to him. He crossed his arms, watching Alicia, knowing he was going to gape her so bad she'd never do ballet again. Besides, he had plenty of time left.

Brett held Alicia's face down into the pillow, she drooled as she sucked in air through her teeth, each thrust from him was from hilt to tip, he ran his fingers across her back, loving, bending down to kiss her from behind as he pressed her flat against the bed. He locked his fingers around hers and stretched her arms towards the headboard, their tongues intertwined, and she moaned into his mouth, a stirring vibration, he almost felt himself loose it, he held and flexed. She sounded like she always had, like how he remembered. Grasping, he pulled her shoulders, her ass flush against his waist as he parked himself in her.

Ten minutes. Third position.

He caught his breath, this time he felt her turn back over, and hoisted her ankles over his shoulders, she was so light, her calves so strong, but her touch, the feel of her soft olive skin, all was familiar, all that he yearned for. He leaned over, and licked her ankles, up to her toes, she giggled, and moaned as he sucked. He fumbled, still adjusting, and thrust into her, his strong arms beside her head, stable pillars, she wrapped her fingers around his forearms, she adored his forearms as she always had, so very rigid and firm.

Roy wasn't nervous, he could tell this worthless loser was close, he could see it on the sissy's face. There was no way Brett had the stamina to last. He had bested better, and bigger men with ease. He felt his own cock harden, stir, unusual, but attributed it to seeing Alicia beginning to show who she was beneath her shell of ice.

Brett fell to his side, he was hungry, he needed no permissions, she was his, and always would be.

Fifteen minutes. Fourth position.

Brett pulled her close, her leg swung back, draped over his waist as he spooned her from behind, his hand slid across her soft skin, her stomach, the small hole where she used to have her navel ring, down past her pubic hair to her clit, engorged and full, and pressed softly with each thrust. She moaned, undeniable, authentic, she grabbed his wrist, his wedding band caught the low light, as it slid between her slender thighs. She placed his fingers exactly where she needed them, forceful in her guidance, wanting success. She looked at the phone, her eyes locked with Roy, mocking, wide and stung with allure. She could see his anger, low and simmering. She moaned aloud, to taunt them both, yet Brett remained resilient to her voice.

She rolled and grasped Brett's wrist, there was no denying he was already starting to cum, thick beads poured from his tip, yet he refused, he fought, she pulled him off the bed and kicked out a small stool, she knelt over it, kneeling, waist bent, she grabbed his wrist, and he took her from behind, deeper in every penetration she had felt thus far, close, slow, intimate. Alicia grabbed her phone off the counter, angling it so Roy could see Brett's deep, steady thrusts. Roy was furious, angry enough to slam his large fist against the table he rested his phone on, causing it to buckle.

Eighteen minutes. Fifth position.

Like an animal, Brett rutted with her, raw, giving, she received, keened, her taut back flexed as she flung her hips back and deep, he remained inside.

Twenty minutes.

Brett grabbed the back of her hair and forced her face to the side, he kissed her deeply, tongue lavish, thorough, gracing hers, her brow full of sweat, hair matted and clumped, that familiar white streak in his grip as he tensed and slowed, each thrust deep and consistent, meaning behind it, shared memories and hopes, he wanted her only to feel, what she never felt. He did it without words.

Brett was relentless, he had already started to cum, her cunt was already full, he clenched, and gripped, years of anguish, of lust built, he grabbed her throat delicately, and kissed her again, pulling her hair. She knew what it meant. She thrust back and forced him back, she dismounted and knelt, pulling Brett close.

Twenty two minutes.

She stuck her tongue out, Brett still couldn't see, but he felt her, every subtle movement, he didn't try to find her lips, he sprayed an abundance. Ribbons of hot seed coated her face, every sharp angle, her rounded Slavic nose, her delicate eyelids, wide brown eyes, forever, in service to him, she grasped at his base and guided the rest of the flood inside her mouth, gulping. She let go of Brett, turned to her stream, her face covered and mimed to the screen of Roy's furious face:

"You lost" her lips, wide, square teeth covered in cum, as she licked the rest of Brett's deep and voluminous load off her face, and smeared it all over so Roy could see clearly the bubbles of Brett's cum between her lips as they pursed together. She texted quickly.

"Think you can do better?"

Roy texted back.

"clean up and get over here now u fucking lucky bitch."

Roy had never been more angry in his entire life. He lost.

Brett collapsed to his side. He would spare himself any words, let the moment hang, the lack of communication a constant in their intimacy. He was softening, still blindfolded. She wiped her face roughly with a hand towel, still shimmering in a glaze, she mounted him again, and with every last vestige left of lust and youth, of heart she rode him till hard again and whispered, while he was still blindfolded, quiet, meek, yet demanding, "Cum inside me... please".

He didn't question, he knew the risks, she was still fertile, he didn't care, he was hard again, she gripped his thighs with her toes, pelvis tilting to the maximize the space between, her leg an arrow, her neck its string, her back the bow, sending off an arrow of their passion. She moaned loudly, it took her, aimless, wandering, to grasp her heart and cunt as she moaned even louder, her toes curled, her face rammed against the pillow, her heart soared, her body weighed and measured with everyone of his thrusts, needing to be claimed. She wanted it, more than she had ever thought, her orgasm was seismic, for the first time ever, Brett's own load was substantial almost as much as his first. He nearly roared as he came, wanting to breed her, against all logic, he knew there were options, he couldn't stop himself even if he tried. She wiped her still cum covered face on the pillow, and kissed Brett on the forehead.

She stood, clenched her Kegels harder than she ever had, bringing to bear all her training, she had to bring her gift to Roy. As Brett, exhausted turned his head, she was quickly getting dressed, putting her panties back on without even cleaning, pulling a dirtied gray sundress over her head and grabbing her bag and phone barefoot. She spoke rapidly.

"I have to get some fresh air ok? I need to. I'm really confused. It was really good, I just need to breathe I'm sorry it's so cold in here and I'm so hot right now and..."

Brett nodded slowly, he figured she needed the space, it was intense and sudden and although her behavior unexpected, he loved her, respected her. He spoke softly.

"Ok. It's fine. I'll see you soon ok? Keep in touch. I'll always be here."

"Love you."

"Love you too babe."

Brett remained still, chest slowing, he rolled over and his eyes closed, all he felt was her.

Alicia briskly walked through the halls, to the VIP floor, towards Roy's room. She was still sweating, her face flush, Brett's cum still deep inside her. She was going to do this, no going back. She needed this. She wanted this, more than ever. She knocked on the door.

The heavy door opened slowly, Roy stood there half in the dark, a hulking form rich with rage, the private balcony door open on in the luxury suite behind him. The scent of sea spray filled the room, a mixture of cigars coating the natural world with the artificial.

She stepped through, not a word uttered. Her eyes spoke every intention, every bit of her victory and her intent. Roy remained silent as well. He had been anticipating this moment, waiting to savor it, no matter his loss. He would take Alicia, and Brett never even know, she was his, for a sum and a price he was willing to pay. Money spoke louder than any loyalties, he would enjoy his prey after hunting for so long.

She took her wedding ring off, setting it  down, as if it would absolve her from what would transpire. It couldn't. If anything it was a permanent reminder now of a broken vow clad in gold and nestled with a shining diamond, buttressed by emeralds, her birthstone. Brett had worked so hard to get the ring for her, against her wishes, insisting he had to "make it proper" even when Noah was on the way. She placed it in a small dish that had another diamond ring in it, heavy, triangular stones circled in a gold clasp, a championship college football ring. It was undoubtedly Roy's, gaudy, old, yet celebrated, an esteem prescribed to the ring that remained from a glorious faded youth, just like him.

When he turned off the room lights, all that remained was a small desk lamp and pathway lights. He was fully naked, rotund stomach moved out of the way by his forearm. He didn't waste time. He already had what he wanted in front of him. She felt her nerves fray and charge, a shock that pulsed through her head and heart and settled in her stomach. She could leave. There was no reason to stay. None. Brett was waiting back in their room, sleeping, his arm ready for her, his familiar scent and warmth. His strong arms, and sparkling eyes, his cum already inside her swollen cunt. Yet she remained, affixed in place by chains of guilt, the allure, prospect and prestige of acquiring such a large sum of money for owning someone else even at the cost of her soul.

He didn't waste time. He stepped forward, cock flaccid, locking the door behind her. Stepping back she saw his hanging weight, it was thick, weathered, stout and exceedingly far, far above average. As he grasped his heavy shaft he started to slowly work a grip around it. He looked at her barely, concealing his rage from losing, remaining silent as he stroked it, deep spiraled movements with a clenched fist, adding his other hand as it grew and he coaxed it into muscular trunk, yielding a steep curve and thick ridge, protruding veins heavy corded over a mottled shaft.  She had never seen a cock that big in person, never. Even in the low light, it was a virile column, producing below it a wide shadow of his flared and swollen cockhead. His arrogance, combined with his bank account, made a lot more sense to her now. The size didn't matter to her, she found it intriguing, intimidating, but she wanted him to taste her, to taste Brett, she stepped forward, discarding her sundress and panties. She beckoned to him with her finger.

Roy shoved her hard against the wall, first he'd take care of her, after he would have everything he wanted. he wouldn't leave a single hole unused. He knelt as threw her leg over his shoulder, surprised at how dense and muscular her thigh was, he leaned his face into her already soaked cunt, not knowing that as he began licking and swirling his tongue deep inside her, he was eating Brett's pooled essence, salty and metallic taste unfamiliar to him, his wide tongue lapping in ignorance.

Roy's beard scratched against her thighs as his mouth puckered and sucked at her clit, he was precise. She could feel her core grow warmer, bore her eyes steady on the ceiling. The rows or patterns and baseboards above, sequences of minor details, a crack, a blemish, could be all she remembered from this night and the feeling of release. As her eyes closed, the room spun, she curled her toes and grabbed his head, pressing it deep against her sex, quieting a laugh as she realized how much she could control him, or thought she could, she let out a long moan, sure to be heard outside the door, slamming her head back in savage satisfaction, yelping. Roy's tongue pressed and folded against her clit, deep pressure, angling his face just enough, his fingers slid inside her, spun, hithering against her canal simultaneously with his whipping tongue, lighting her up like a match against tinder. She burned and gasped. Her orgasm was brutal, unyielding, making her back rigid, her calf tense around his hefty neck, her palms planted against the wall, she wanted him to worship her. He didn't, and never would, he offered himself to no one. He stood, content with her joy, and grabbed her by the throat, throwing her to her knees.

He held his threatening roped trunk against her face, she gawked at it as he slapped the side of her face, with it, a puckered clap against her cheek. She fought back, slapping his cock back, till his large hand grabbed her thin throat and bent her head over the desk nearby, he fed his bulging purple head past her lips. Her eyes widened in fear and excitement, her tongue pressed against his shaft, as she squirmed, her throat soon bulging grotesquely from the outside as she felt his massive stomach fold against her face. She raised her palms and pressed back against him, it meant nothing.

He suffocated her, neck bent against the desk, her throat closed, full, he slapped her again with his large hand, across the side of her face, a dead thud, red fingerprints. Her breathing slowed, she was stronger, she knew she, she grasped at breath through her nostrils, face reddened, eyes drained of tears, her struggle made Roy even angrier. She clenched her jaw, hard enough for him to slap the back of her head, he expressed all his rage by grasping under her narrow jaw, his other hand on the back of her head, grabbing a fist full of black hair, slamming his entire length down her throat. The only sound was the wind, and her throat full, gagging as she thrashed and clawed at his thighs.

Roy held her there, admiring her as she shivered and shook, it was the first time he felt anything resembling concern for her, wondering if she would pass out. Unable to take it anymore, she bit down, hard enough to draw blood, the scent of rust flooding her palette, scraping her teeth against his foreskin, like a wild animal, Roy enjoyed it. He grabbed the back of her head again, after a hard slap, raised her from her feet, breathless and worn and threw her onto the bed, she landed on her back. Roy's pipe protruded under his stomach as he stepped forward, he licked his chapped lips and lifted her legs, one over another across his shoulder, as he stood he licked the side of her feet, and sucked on her toes savoring, he saw her delicate pedicure and wanted a ballerina's feet on his cock. He licked her other sole and slid her legs down and forced her feet around his shaft, putting both of her small feet around them.

She knew what to do, it was instinct. She pulled her legs back and gripped his girth hard with her toes, guiding it with her soles, curving them around the top and sides of his shaft, even spreading her toes to service the protruding ridge underneath his cockhead, clasping, struggling to spread her toes wide enough, unable to even get halfway. He grimaced, smirked. He leaned forward, fists plunged into the bed, as if to speak, instead he spit in her face.

She immediately slapped him back, firm, her long nails grazing beneath his eyes as to slice his vision. He leaned as she grasped his cheeks and spit in his face. He reached for her tits, tore at her brown nipples and collapsed on her purposefully, her legs spread, elegant, shaped, his true bounty as his foul weight smothered her.

She couldn't prepare, only anticipate, her thighs stretched, she tilted her pelvis, tightened her core for what was coming. She felt her glistening lips spread, inner walls expand in pain, discomfort, anterior struggling, g-spot sparked, a feeling she had never knew, Roy's cock scraping against zones inside her that were uncharted, now claimed by him. A deep breath, ceaseless burning, she clutched at his hairy shoulders for support, She spread her legs wider, thighs knotted and shivering with extension, forcing her pelvic floor into relaxation as her ballet training arched her back instinctively, she felt every challenging inch of him disappearing slowly among her wetness, she wondered when it would end, unable to count the inches, focusing so much against his cock, she ached, grit her teeth, and finally felt his hilt.

That's when she felt it.

To her astonishment, and horror, she felt the sensation of a bulge stretch across her abdominal wall as she looked down below Roy's mass, an imprint formed ever so lightly across her lower abs from his conclusion, her thin frame tilted up like her exertion during ballet she could feel her abdominal wall press from the pressure inside her canal, her cervix scraping against his cockhead in pain unable to go back any further, her trained yoga pushing back, with nerves her hand rubbed against the thinnest distention, awe and pain took her.

He began pounding mercilessly, he could feel her lungs tighten with each rapid thrust, he didn't care, as the bed shook, snarling as he moved his hand up, grabbing her black hair at it's roots, pulling her head violently to the side, and spitting in her eye. He turned her head back, and forced her to stare at his weathered, sun beaten old face, bulbous nose, his face a gruesome expression, her delicate body bowed, he let go of her hair and slapped her hard, before his thick fingers closed on her throat, lifting himself up, letting her take in barely any breath as her face reddened. He sheathed himself fully in her, studying her face as she drooled and eyes watered, bubbles of spit spilling down his hand as it clasped tighter. She was pinned, spread, dominated. He felt her waist shift as she tried to turn, but legs were too far spread, she grasped at his wrist, begging for mercy, which he would never offer. He paused, enjoying studying her eyes roll back, her arousal evident as her she grew closer to pleasure, pain her escort her senses heightened. He let go, ripped himself out, and stood off the bed.

She coughed and gasped, color returning to her face, as she pulled her legs back in, the sound of her emptied and gaped cunt low and wet, drawn. She rolled to her side. Roy wouldn't wait, he rolled her onto all fours, she stared out at the balcony from the bed, seeing the peace of the night sky. She felt her ass pulled up, her gaped cunt spread, and Roy's intense thrust create a loud pop as she felt her pussy squelch, the vacuum he made, filled again.

She heard Roy's heavy, shallow, wheezing He groaned, his calloused thick fingers gripped her hips hungrily, drawing her sex towards with hunger, more anger for losing than lust. He was punishing her. His hips began to piston, a wet slapping sound filled the room traveling out onto the balcony. To her own astonishment, she moaned. Roy didn't offer any words, or commands, he was focused, his large gut sliding against the small of her back with each deep thrust. He was a conqueror, taking someone and something that didn't belong to him.

As he built his own pleasure with each deep thrust, he fondly recalled shaking hands with Brett. He didn't have any animosity towards Brett. The poor bastard was just unlucky in Roy's mind. Roy thought that Brett should have done a better job protecting her, she was a prize for men like him. And there were far more men like Roy than Brett would ever know. He enjoyed Alicia's hesitance, her defiance, savoring her now broken form as he gripped her stomach tightly from behind, wide hands clasped around her entirety, cinching and breathing her in, she smelled dirty, a musk, of sex and sweat, contempt. He licked the side of her neck, himself reeking as she grimaced, but than licked her lips, the fullness unbearable, her core tightening, Roy leaned back, stood on the bed above her and took her like a dog, like how he took Tania.

Roy licked his lips, hoping that somehow Brett would know in his heart what happened this night, even if he never found out the truth. It was nature, the law of dominance intervening in the paltry contract and security of marriage, a sham of an institution if there ever was one, thinking of his four ex-wives laughing inside for another lie that Alicia bought, as if he had never been married. Roy felt commanding as he thrust, the memory of Brett's warm smile and firm handshake of the younger man a catalyst for his own pleasure.

Roy was silent, only his hips spoke, his grotesque thickness plummeted past her swollen lips, over and over, spreading her wider with each thrust, a rhythm of experience and size beset his every move. This was easy for him, and all too pleasurable for her. His balls slapped hard against his own jiggling thighs, as he increased his speed, a rapid pace, her head driven into the bed as she moaned loudly, and screamed, her body breaking in orgasmic euphoria.

"OH GOD FUCK ME!"

He winced, through gritted teeth, he relinquished his lust, a purchase of his hunt, paid and delivered. He planted himself deep, with one last thrust, and came. Alicia felt the familiar feeling of being filled, owned completely dominated in a way she never had. His abundant load was torrential, a viscous blast of potent thin rivers, she felt even heavier ropes of his viscous load kiss, and clump against her cervix, forced in deep with each thrust. He slowed, his hands trembling slightly as his grip loosened. He grabbed his hilt and pulled out, angling it against her cheek, admiring his work as he saw her cunt gaped into a swollen, reddened chasm, labia stretched, the remnants of his brutality were full, streaks of dense cum that dredged down her thighs. It might have been his biggest load yet, he was impressed by himself.

He leaned forward and tapped his fat cockhead on her shapely rear, splattering a thick rivulet of heavy cum across her red cheeks as he dragged it down, and thrust back in, not wanting to waste a single drop of his seed, he slid in with a lazy thrust, a prominent showing of his claim. He rocked her hips against his as he slowly pushing his load back in, keeping it pressed deep inside her, holding her hips flush against his overflow that remained a testament to his power. Finally he pulled out, her lips slid along his shaft as they parted, a long wide crescent strand of cum hung off her cunt, which swung low off his cockhead, and loosened against the comforter below with a plop that soon formed into a wet stain.

He laid back, falling on the pillow behind him, a dry smile across his face. He grabbed his pack of cigars and offered one to her in silence. She looked at him through a post orgasmic haze, still on all fours, breathing rapid, her skin on fire, her refusal of the cigar being silence. She knew this feeling. She could feel her body crave, like she did with Brett, the need to ingest, to become, to form union with their seed, she grimaced and felt weak, she turned and spread her cunt, it was leaking still, some of her sex covered in a webbed glaze, like graphs of her cunt's vulnerability, digesting, needing, wanting both Brett and Roy, wanting to gamble.

She stared at the wall, her heart broke.

It was a moment of brutal clarity. Twenty one years thrown away in the course of twenty five minutes. There was an abject horror that cleared her mind, pushed and folded through her tears, the taste of salt clearing her parted lips as she was left in recollection of times past, the memories that lived and thrived and those that decayed in disappointment and were abstained from connection. Her claimed still fertile cunt let loose a series of sounds, wet and deep, soft and loose as she turned to her side, her thighs slick with spit and  his seed as she grabbed at a hand towel nearby to clean herself off. She slid her long acrylic nails inside and scooped the remnants of Roy out onto the towel along with her own nectar, leaving a creamy sheen on her tan nails. Fascination and fear paled her, her breath was increasingly shallow. Not a word had been spoken of this. No plan or placement, boundaries, or permissions. Roy did what he wanted, and worse she let him, she didn't protest. She let the thick strand run down her nail onto the towel, observing it, studying the yellowness, and volume. She tasted it, absentmindedly, it was positively revolting, sour even.

Roy stepped back and shrugged, sure she was entering another weird episode. He didn't care. He got what he wanted. He wrapped a crisp white towel across his waist he stepped out onto his balcony, lit his cigar and began smoking. Unassuming and stoic, he reflected. He might think about Alicia when the cruise ended, or when he would speak to his son Troy about his latest fuck, logging another entry into their challenge log of who could bed the youngest woman for the least amount of money, this encounter a blemish for him which would make for a spirited and humorous discussion with Troy. He thought, maybe he would tell his neighbor if they had enough to drink. There was a BBQ coming up, he couldn't remember when. It was on the calendar at his townhouse. His neighbor's young second wife Savannah was going to be there, she loved her garden it was all she ever talked about, he grinned wondering if he could plant his seed in her garden, for a much smaller price, if anything at all, to ease the ache of his wallet.

To Roy's own dismay he was dissatisfied immensely, Alicia was beautiful, the hunt was enjoyable, but she was a boring lay. He had fucked women that were twice as exciting, sometimes older and for infinitely less, If anything he overpaid severely. Alicia had barely any initiative, her fighting was good, but she wasn't talented, she was too frail, too boring, not nearly as flexible as he thought she would be, nor as strong, the next cunt he would find would have bigger tits for sure, younger, like Savannah. However, she was tight, he did enjoy that, she wouldn't be again, maybe Brett would notice the next time she gave him a pity fuck. But Roy fancied himself a merciful man, and was willing to uphold his price, he did lose the gamble after all. For the briefest moment, he wondered if her poor performance was because of his anger at her. He dismissed it. It wasn't all bad, he had his biggest load in years, he wished he would have taken a photo. He thought it was amusing, how moments like this, after dumping his cum in a married woman, he could only think of what he would eat tomorrow morning.

In a grave form, Alicia wrapped one of the soft white blankets around herself and joined Roy on the balcony. The sky was blotted out, not a single star or planet was there to foster some notion of romance or kindness. Just dullness. The parting of deep blue water, white foam, and a lapping of an ocean's benevolence against the hull was all she heard. She stared at the water, the spiraling horizon clearing as a blurred field of choked satellites and clouds that passed with the parting wake the giant ship. She opened her mouth, yet no words or even sound escaped, just a mimicry of a feeling she had that could not be made whole.

She looked at his hollowed eyes, the scent of tobacco burning, a glowing orange ring framing his disgusting features, his parted mouth flooding forth a dark smoke that filled the balcony and drifted down the hull, passing into nothing. She observed him once more, knelt in front of him, her slender short fingers ran up his hairy legs under the towel which had grown damp. As she grabbed his now half flaccid member,   a pale pearl of cum leaked out the tip onto the chair below him. She labored to nurse him back to half fullness, her thin lips pursed and opened as she took him in, her short tongue swirling around the tip and slipping over his foreskin, with soft flicks.

He was cold, distant, a need he had was met, and like so many other pursuits, she was now boring to him. Yet still, he allowed her to proceed, he did find her beautiful, he ran his thick fingers through her hair and forced her head down further as he smoked his cigar. She grabbed his balls and cupped them, they felt heavy, potent and robust. She rubbed her thumb across across his shaft, long nails tapping it. Her efforts felt as blind as her defiant lust, unknowable, driven by a primitive base that only seemed to worsen with every growing second, maybe a need to justify the small fortune he just spent, maybe the allure of the power she had, power she was convinced she now knew, money she could indulge on her family, herself. In her mind, this was a transaction, she was earning her pay. As she sobbed and pulled her head back, she crying uncontrollably.

He looked down at her, with a dismissive glance, her large almond eyes locked with his, reverence affixed to her face, her clean olive skin still wearing his sweat and scent. He could easily fuck her again. He didn't want to. He was bored and pissed off. And tired of her, especially tired of her whining, her crying, especially now, his cock immediately flaccid from her outburst, as he watched her prone on the ground, snotty face, tears coating her entire cheeks, sucking in air through her mouth as she gasped and sobbed again.

Roy spoke purging her crying around them, his voice rough, choked with a dryness that was lost in the sounds of chop and engines drawing long hums. "Time for you to go." She looked up at him, still sobbing, eyes narrowed, grimacing. Roy spoke again.

"I said, time to go. Didn't you hear me? Look at your app, cyrpto has been sent. Who knows, maybe you're make some more friggin' money if you sell at the right time. There's a cash tip in the drawer, a little somethin' extra for the creampie."

She felt the ship slip and shudder back and forth, the waves pressing against the hull, rocking. She looked forwards, through him, her sight lost in the dark, unable to adjust. She stood and tightened the white towel around her frame. She stepped back inside the room, and saw her clothes. She first put her wedding ring back on, and dressed. She looked back at him again, and he waved her off, whistling an old song she didn't recognize, his feet kicked up on the railing. She grabbed the roll of cash from the drawer. She counted it out. 5K. She put it away within her Saint Laurent bag. For all her esteem, her dignity, her worth, she was a whore. Proven, paid, and discarded as such.

As she walked through the decks, an emptiness followed her that hollowed her out. There was no eyes to watch her, no hands to touch her, no voices of lovers or friends, a solipsistic long walk below shaded lights, past art deco reliefs. She put her keycard in their door, slunk into the bathroom and warmed her hands in the sink with water. She wiped away the still present remnants of Roy. She placed the roll of money deep in her luggage, careful to hide it in bundles of dirty clothes, she changed to her pajamas and slept beside Brett, first at the far side of the bed the distance between them a muted expression of what they had become and would remain even in denial. The guilt lanced at her very soul, and as the darkness of the room came to the stillness, she sobbed in silence, but she crept inch by inch, crossing that distance, bridging it with tears, to wrap her thin arms around Brett, breathing him deep, the ocean rocking her into a restless night.

The sun was blinding. Breakfast a dull buffet, of wet scrambled eggs, burnt toast, coffee that was pitilessly black in a plain cup. When Brett left to use the restroom in the buffet hall, he smiled at Alicia, warmly, an expression of their bond from the night before that he hoped strengthened them. Alicia offered a slight smile, only reminding her of her own weakness, by her own affair that she now barely even felt alive. She checked her phone. There was a single message from Roy no punctuation, crude and effortless:

"was fun, secret safe with me, sent u my son Troy's info, free to call him in NYC, he would love 2 show u around, fuck a whore like u, he wont pay as much tho... unless u show him more than u showed me, bye, tell the hubby hello for me hehe."

That was it. She closed her messenger, deleted Roy's contact information, her messages and purged the cloud that could have stored any evidence and sighed quietly into her long sweater. As she looked out towards the water, the shore of the bay lingered in sight, the growing skyline of Tampa emerging as if a mirage. She sat at the table, fork along her plate, glass of coffee now cold, isolated among the throngs of passengers in her own concentrated thoughts. She rubbed her thigh, feeling a series of bruises towards her hips, she hurt even to bend over this morning, pissing hurt, her pussy strained, torn, and bloodied. Her neck and shoulders ached, her abdominal wall forced her posture into a rigid line, it hurt to swallow, a reminder of her disloyalty, her shameful pleasure.

She spun the frayed fabric of her high waisted denim shorts around her finger, pulling at the strands in a trance. She thought of her career, her life, what she had, her son Noah, and the love she still felt for Brett, it was a betrayal that went too far, she didn't want the remnants of both men to compete for her still fertile womb. It was already too much, she grabbed her stomach and felt her eyes well up. The ship came to port, they left together, Brett's hand entwined around hers.

***

Alicia had already planned a burial in her mind of the experience with Roy, a way to sequester it to the past. A complete forfeiture of what happened, sewn together with her silence. On the way back from the port she stopped with Brett for a snack at a gas station. He politely waited in the car, she calmly walked into the station and immediately bought Plan B and went to the bathroom. She opened the package, and stared at the pill. She drank it down quickly with sink water. And with that spent lonely package in the dirty bathroom would remain the evidence of her tryst that was forged in regret, a break with reality, and an unhealthy, long desire for the horrible necessity of money and power.

The next week, after work, she deposited the money into a new account, cashed out her crypto payment, and was 55K richer. It was hers, and only hers. The numbers did little to assuage the guilt, it was a job, and she was compensated, and like all her other jobs, it was cold, and left her empty, no matter the quaking pleasure her body felt.. She as always performed well, thinking she exceeded Roy's expectations; she could never know just how disappointed he was. Even if she knew, she wouldn't even care.

She planned to never log this in a journal, write it in some anonymous forum, nor let any hint of it slip past her lips, no matter how many cocktails or desire could fill her need to speak of it, to let her guilt free. Any potential for the experience to be spake or illustrated she planned to die with her.

A week later, Brett sent Alicia a link to an article via text. It read:

"Remember Roy that weird old dude? You're never gonna believe this."

She was petrified to open it, thinking she had been exposed. Instead, it was from a local affiliate, the article headline read: "Well-Respected Businessman Attacked While Abroad". She read the rest:

"Local and beloved businessmen Roy Marino was the unfortunate victim of an attack while on a trip to Mexico. Authorities stated that Roy sustained multiple injuries, including the use of his left arm. As the community that he is beloved in comes together to support his recovery, we spoke with his oldest son Troy. "My father is a true fighter. A good man. He's been an inspiration to us all." Roy's local business partner has stated that Roy intends to do more "philanthropic" work, using his vast wealth and assets for vulnerable communities in select countries, stating that "I will make sure these communities are safer, so this doesn't happen again, I've spoke with some authorities and we're already coming up with plans. I may be hurt, but these countries are hurting more."

She went to the bathroom and threw up in disgust.

Over the next months, Brett never suspected anything of Alicia. He had some reluctance, some sense of something she hid, but couldn't disclose. He knew her, every inch of her, her smile and warmth, her laughter, which he wanted to hear everyday, betrayal wasn't in her character. Since the cruise, they were intimate more, he never understood her nightmares though, they seemed to happen nightly, he would hold her till she fell back asleep. He wondered however, about the bag. It looked so real. It was a great fake. She never lied either, she wasn't capable of it. The idea of some suitor, let alone Roy enticing her with such a gift was ridiculous. He always dismissed the notion as soon as it entered his thoughts. Alicia would insist when he confessed his doubts to her that he was "all she ever wanted", as she always said, and always would.