Black Lace Quickies 1

by Kerri Sharpe

  ‘Yes.’ Lauren stood behind him as he pressed the button with his gloved finger. The doors closed. The young man’s hands rose again and he pressed another button. The elevator stopped suddenly. He turned to her, and put his wet mouth over hers. His face was pressed so close to hers, all she could see were his dark eyelashes over his closed eyes. She could have counted them if she’d wanted to. The soft fabric of his gloves grazed her thighs. He tasted like coffee, his tongue bitter and forceful inside her mouth.

  She gasped for breath. I could fuck this guy, this nameless guy, she thought. He wants me. He could give me pleasure. For a few moments, I could be the centre of his universe.

  The elevator attendant pulled his hands free of his gloves and grabbed her ass as he pushed her up against the wall of the elevator, grinding his body into hers. He fingered the elastic edges of her bathing suit. Lauren could feel herself getting wet, responding to him. He groaned as he pushed his hand into her bathing suit and found her asshole. Lauren cried out as he pushed a finger inside her. It felt lovely, but dirty. It made her hot, but it felt wrong.

  ‘I have to go, my parents are waiting for me.’ She pulled herself away from him.

  ‘Please.’ He was panting and his eyes were pleading. ‘Please?’

  ‘No, I’ve got to go.’ Lauren pulled down the hem of her sundress.

  He grabbed her wrists and pushed them around her back. He kissed her again, forcing his tongue deep inside her. Her heart raced with fear and arousal.

  He pulled away from her fast as the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. ‘Fuck! You bit me.’ Lauren smiled at him, his blood on her teeth.

  ‘Crazy bitch.’ He pressed a button and the elevator began to move.

  At breakfast, Lauren drank coffee and the cup shook in her hands.

  Around noon, Lauren found Cass sunbathing topless on a deckchair next to the pool. Her breasts were milky compared with her round, tanned shoulders and arms. Cass had a fashion magazine covering her face. Lauren thought she was beautiful like this, exposed, embracing her own exhibitionism.

  Without removing the magazine, Cass said, ‘I’m driving the wait staff completely wild with desire.’ Cass’s skin glistened with tanning oil and the smell of coconut mingled with sweat wafted off her. She peeked out from under the magazine pages. ‘Do you want to join me?’ Cass tugged at one of the ties hanging off Lauren’s swimsuit. ‘Did I mention that I’m doing a tour of the men of Europe? I’ve yet to land myself a Greek. On this ship I’ve already had a Hungarian. Did you see him? Tall man, salt-and-pepper hair? Wears the red Speedo bathing suit for his swim each morning? His body is hard as rock.’

  Lauren smiled and shrugged.

  ‘Oh, don’t be coy. Everyone notices The Hungarian.’

  ‘I haven’t.’

  ‘Oh, well. I have a plan, if you’d like to be in on it. To land myself a Greek. A busboy would be good. They look like they would be so appreciative, don’t you think? You can have one too. We’ll meet here after dinner. Wear something that shows some skin.’

  * * *

  In her cotton tank top and skirt Lauren felt rather unglamorous beside Cass’s low-cut red dress. ‘I always wear red when I want to just ooze sex.’

  ‘You look nice.’

  ‘You do too. In a sweet, wholesome way.’ Cass’s eyes moved away from Lauren’s body to a young man crossing the deck with a tray of empty glasses.

  ‘Hey, you there. Busboy?’ The young man turned and looked questioningly at Cass.

  ‘Come over here for a second. I’m looking for a bottle of ouzo and I don’t want to order ouzo drinks all night. I want a full bottle. Do you know where I might be able to purchase such a thing?’ The busboy had to struggle not to look down Cass’s cleavage as she bent towards him. ‘Do you have a bottle? Or a friend who has one? Could I meet you later to buy it from you?’

  The busboy looked wide-eyed and overwhelmed for a moment, then shook his head yes. ‘Ten minutes, yes? Cabin two-six-five? Both of you come?’ Cass smiled, her teeth white against her scarlet lipstick. The busboy turned on his heel and jogged away with his tray of glasses tipping perilously.

  ‘Well, he’s cute and he understands English pretty well. I reserve the right to choose him until after we’ve seen what his friend looks like. It was my plan, so I get first pick.’

  ‘Why would he bring a friend?’ Lauren liked the idea of an adventure, but buying a bottle of ouzo seemed unlikely to yield a thrill, let alone score a busboy.

  ‘You’ll see. Now that we have ten minutes to kill, let’s see if we can’t do something about your outfit, OK?’ Cass led Lauren towards the elevator.

  Cass’s cabin was a mess of clothes hanging off the edges of the berths, the chair, the bathroom door. Giant bottles of duty-free perfume cluttered the small vanity. Cass pulled a sequined dress off the chair and offered Lauren the seat.

  ‘You share this room with your brother?’

  ‘Unfortunately. But he knows enough to keep all his things in his suitcase. I travel in style as you can see. I get it from my mother – she was an actress. I think Ben must have gotten his neatness from his dad. He was an accountant.’ Cass wrinkled her nose playfully. ‘Mother’s fourth husband. She really does have a voracious appetite for men. Now she’s on to husband number six.’

  Cass opened a drawer, which overflowed with make-up, cigarette packages and small bottles of booze like the ones served on aeroplanes. ‘I’m thinking black eyeliner for you. Maybe a spritz of Opium. And this.’ Cass pulled a backless chiffon blouse out of a lower drawer. Lauren peeled off her tank top and felt Cass’s eyes on her body, her gaze sliding languidly over Lauren’s shoulders, breasts and stomach.

  As Lauren slipped on the blouse, it felt light and luxurious against her skin. ‘Now you feel as sexy as you are.’ Cass ran her finger slowly down Lauren’s neck, from her chin to her collarbone. ‘Do you feel sexy?’

  * * *

  Lauren and Cass found the busboy, a friend and an open bottle of ouzo waiting for them in cabin 265. The curtains were drawn over the portal. The room was immaculate, obviously uninhabited. The two boys wore matching uniforms, and even their well-shined black shoes were the same. The friend had eyes that slanted up at the outside corners and showed sharp white teeth when he smiled. I want that one, Lauren thought.

  ‘Good evening, boys.’ Cass danced into the room, spreading the scent of her perfume as she moved. ‘What do we have here? A little private party?’ Cass grabbed the bottle of ouzo, walked into the bathroom and collected four Dixie cups and began to pour. ‘Classy.’

  ‘Hello.’ The friend made room for Lauren beside him on the berth. Cass looked him over slowly as Lauren sat beside him.

  ‘So, boys, what signs are you? Let me guess. I’m good at this.’ Cass handed out the cups. ‘You look like a Scorpio. Am I right? And you – a Leo?’

  The busboy smiled awkwardly and shook his head.

  ‘I’m wrong? You’re not a Leo?’

  ‘Myself, I am a … a crab?’

  ‘Ah, Cancer.’

  ‘And was I right about you?’ The slant-eyed man shrugged, looked helplessly at his friend and said something in Greek. ‘Oh, well. I guess he’s yours. No English.’ Cass smiled, showing her teeth, then picked up her drink and proceeded to sit in the busboy’s lap.

  ‘What’s your name?’ Lauren blushed as she looked at her companion for the evening.

  ‘Christopher.’ He moved towards her and brushed her lips with the tips of his fingers. ‘Beautiful, yes?’ He held her cheek in the palm of his hand, rough and warm against her. ‘Kiss?’ Lauren closed her eyes. As he moved closer, she could smell the scent of him, the slight smell of bleach from his uniform, sweat from a long day’s work. She couldn’t help wishing she could breathe his air, suck in his breath, sweet and wet against her mouth.

  She gently bit his lip, plump and full like a ripe plum. He put his hand on her breast, then slipped it into the open back of the shirt, around to the front, and pinched he
r nipple. Lauren gasped as pleasure pulsed through her body. She could feel herself getting wet, just from a kiss and playful touch.

  She put her hand on to his cock, feeling its stiffness through his pants. He wanted her. She could feel it in the electricity off his skin, the way he held his breath when she touched him.

  ‘Listen, boys. This is all well and good, but I’ve got to tell you. My friend here, she isn’t just my friend. She’s my lover and watching you touch her makes me jealous.’ Cass was standing in the middle of the cabin, towering in her high-heeled shoes. The busboy started talking rapidly in Greek to his friend. Lauren looked up at Cass with a question mark in her face. ‘I want you to take your hands off my girl.’ Cass pulled Lauren up by the hand.

  ‘Two girls? Lovers?’ The busboy’s forehead was wrinkled with confusion.

  ‘You do have lesbians in Greece, don’t you?’ Cass pulled Lauren to her and kissed her on the mouth, then moved her mouth towards her ear and licked her earlobe. The kiss was wet and sensuous and Lauren wanted more of it. Cass whispered into Lauren’s ear, ‘Not fair for you to have the hot one. I want them both.’ Lauren stepped back and looked at Cass: there was a mocking mirth hiding around her eyes. Cass drew back and slapped Lauren across the face. It stung only slightly, but Lauren was shocked by its suddenness, its utter unexpectedness.

  ‘Whore! You’re making me jealous on purpose! Why would you do that to me? I want you out of here. I don’t want to have to look at your face.’ Cass was a queen of melodrama, her voice singsong, her movements exaggerated, her emotion filling the room. She pushed Lauren towards the door and out into the hallway and then promptly slammed the door.

  ‘Cass, I …’ A question hung on the end of Lauren’s tongue as she heard Cass lock the door from the inside. Lauren’s body was buzzing. She felt strangely hollow and confused. She’d only sipped the ouzo. Lauren could hear Cass’s giggle through the cabin door. Greedy, insatiable Cass. In that kiss, Lauren felt as if she had been given a clue, a way to possess the woman she wanted to become.

  Lauren felt the sting of cool night air as she came up on deck. The expanse of stars and water – the vastness of it – made her feel as if she might explode out of her skin, like an astronaut outside of her spacesuit. Ben’s dark shape reclined on a deckchair, eyes glittering, the cherry of a cigarette orange between his fingers.

  ‘You seen Cass?’ Ben ashed over the ledge of the deck, into the sea.

  ‘No.’

  Lauren settled on the edge of a chair and reached for the lit cigarette. She put it to her lips and took a drag, letting the smoke sting the back of her throat. Ben was Cass’s brother, but Lauren could make him her own in a way that Cass never could.

  ‘You don’t smoke. I can tell by the way you hold it.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, it’s a nasty habit.’ Ben took a pack out of his shirt pocket and shook a cigarette from it. ‘And, if you are going to do it, you may as well do it elegantly.’ He put the cigarette in his mouth, lit it and then let the smoke stream effortlessly from his mouth into his nose. ‘Let me teach you to French-inhale.’

  Lauren sucked smoke into her mouth, then opened it slightly and breathed in through her nose. Smoke rose around her head like a halo. ‘Like that?’

  ‘Don’t open your mouth so much.’

  Lauren tried again.

  ‘Better. But remember it is supposed to be sensual.’

  ‘So I should half close my eyes and try to look like Marlene Dietrich?’

  ‘If it helps.’

  Lauren glanced up at his face. Amusement bent the edges of his lips. She leaned towards him and put her lips against his mocking mouth. She would not be coy. Not any more. What was the use of it? It was better to take the man you wanted. It was better to want than to be wanted. He tasted like salt and smoke, but his mouth was soft and warm against hers. She put her hands on his chest and felt the heat of him through his shirt, the hard muscles of his chest, the buried beating of his heart.

  ‘What are you doing?’ He moved his face away from hers.

  ‘I’m kissing you.’

  She kissed him again, pushing his lips apart and finding the wet centre of him. She ran her hand down his chest, across his stomach and down to his hips. Her fingers lingered on the sliver of bare skin just above his belt buckle. A silky patch of hair ran between his navel and his buckle and, as Lauren stroked it, she could hear Ben’s breath falter.

  ‘We can’t do this here.’

  ‘We’ll find a place. We’ll both look around and meet back here in ten minutes.’

  This is it, she thought to herself, this is finally it. I will vanquish him and leave him in the morning. Anticipation prickled against her clit, like the throbbing engines far beneath her. Weak, silly boys never had a chance – they were just the fodder for her lust. She watched his ass as he walked towards the front of the ship.

  * * *

  When he returned, Ben was flushed with running. ‘I’ve looked everywhere. Up there is an empty space where there are just ropes and stuff on the deck, but it’s open to the sky. I don’t know if there is a place.’ Ben leaned on the railing, giving up. ‘If you don’t really. –’

  ‘I thought of a place.’ Lauren pointed.

  ‘Overboard?’

  ‘No, look behind you and down.’

  Ben looked over the edge of the railing, and then looked up at Lauren. He smiled, and his teeth shone white like a Cheshire cat’s.

  It was a calculated leap between the rail of the upper deck and the roof of the lifeboat. Lauren scrambled down on to the narrow deck and tried the hatch. It was open. Inside, the air was warm and heavy against her skin, moist and fragrant with diesel, dust and salt. The space was lined with padded benches and the small windows let in only a dim light that made the interior black and white. A hidden space.

  Lauren clutched Ben’s shirt by the collar as he followed her into the cabin. She pulled him close and kissed his lips as hard as she could. She would have liked to taste him, if she could have, taken a bite of him. She crushed his body against her own. She needed to get closer. She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

  ‘Wait, a sec, I –’

  ‘Quiet.’

  Lauren unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off him. She got down on her knees to unbuckle his belt. The buttons of his fly were difficult and she had to slide her hand under the waist of his jeans. She pulled the denim down from the knees and let the pants settle around Ben’s ankles. He stepped out of the pile of fabric, leaving his flip-flops behind too. Ben’s boxer shorts were a light, clinging fabric that almost stuck to Lauren’s fingers as she pulled them down. In the dim light, his skin looked silvery and his pubic hair was a dark patch of shadow. His body was sinewy and long, and she could see his tattoos in their entirety, a phoenix that stretched across his upper back and sent plumage down one arm. She traced its contours with her fingertips and he shivered under her touch. Ben moved his head to kiss her.

  ‘Wait. I just need to do something.’ Lauren ran her hands down his back, feeling the fine hair beneath her fingers. She caressed his muscular legs, his knees. She felt the generous proportions of his buttocks. She smelled the back of his neck, the nape of his hair. He smelled faintly like heat, the memory of sun. She licked his earlobe, it tasted like sweat.

  ‘OK, now kiss me.’

  He grabbed her, hungry, and clutched fistfuls of her hair as he kissed her. He pushed her down on to the bench and peeled off the chiffon top and cotton skirt. He smiled at her when he found that was all she had on. Lauren looked down at her naked body, appraising it as she thought he might. Narrow hips, small breasts, but strong and taut. His mouth found her nipple and she gasped. It almost tickled.

  His fingers left a trail of fire down her belly to her cunt. They felt big and rough as they moved against her clit. Unfamiliar. Unpredictable. She moved against him. She closed her eyes. Her entire consciousness moved down into her pelvis, the slippery movement of his fingers, the wetness of he
r cunt, the longing to be filled up with him.

  She found his cock with her hands, judged its hardness, its girth, with her touch. Very hard. Shaped like a stick of dynamite and at its tip there was a piece of metal. Lauren opened her eyes. The tip of his cock was pierced with a ring with a barbell on it. Lauren tugged at it gently. Ben sighed.

  ‘Ben, I want to fuck you.’

  Ben pushed her knees apart with his legs. He kissed her as he guided his cock into her cunt. She moaned as the tip entered her. Ben pushed his hips into her and his cock slid deep inside her. Pain and ecstasy. Friction and heat. Lauren moved against Ben, rubbing her clit against his pelvic bone. She was getting sweaty and her slick belly slipped against his. The pain made her catch her breath.

  ‘Does it hurt?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Ben whimpered in ecstasy, his breath fragmented, broken up with pleasure. Lauren could feel the tension growing in her cunt, coils of energy pulling tight against the walls of her vagina. She sank her nails into Ben’s shoulder. She moved against him, faster, harder. She could feel her juices dripping down between the cheeks of her ass. She could feel his breath, staccato, against her neck. She could feel his cock deep inside her, filling her up. And then, for a moment, her mind went blank. There was a small explosion inside her. A flash of white light on the backs of her eyelids. I am the whore of Babylon, she thought. The fucking whore of Babylon.

  ‘Oh, my God. Oh, my God.’ Ben was moving inside her. In and out. Faster and faster. She felt a burst of warmth inside her and he collapsed on to her, sweaty and drunk with pleasure. He pulled his cock out of her and his come ran down between her legs on to the bench. Lauren reached down and touched it with her finger, so slippery. She brought her finger to her mouth and tasted it. Like the sea. He lay beside her, cupping her breast in his hand, face tucked into the crook of her neck.

  ‘I know what your tattoo means. The one on your wrist. I asked my mom – she studied Latin. It made me think you might be a romantic. A Romeo. Are you?’

  ‘I have my romantic delusions, I guess.’