Doctor Dunnett waved a hand vaguely and more whisky appeared. He did the confidential lean again.
'It's my theory there were two assassins!'
I was fascinated.
'I'm fascinated, Doctor. On what do you base your theory?'
'On the fact that the bullet entered the front of him and the wee dart was stuck in the back of his neck!'
The Doctor leaned triumphantly on the bar.
The plot thickened. So Raoul had two enemies aboard, or at least two people with a practical bent who wished him deid – sorry, dead.
I tried to place everyone in the dining room at the moment the lights went out, but that would have to wait for tomorrow and a corroborator. My attention had been on Miss Swat's imminent orgasm and my wife's wild dance.
Talking of Miss Swat – that was enough sleuthing for one evening. I had my wife's wedding present to round up. I bade Doctor Dunnett good night, though I doubted if he was still capable of registering my presence. I returned to the deck and immediate reward.
Miss Swat was in the bow of the ship, hair blowing back and dress pressed against her body by the wind of our passage. This was a moment for long gazing at the horizon, for secretly held hands, for adoring looks, for romance and everlasting love.
I grabbed her arm and dragged her away.
'My cabin, now, fucky-fucky time!'
'Oh my, Mr. Neptune! This is such a suhprise! What is a po' Southern girl to do?'
'Drop 'em and lick everything in sight.'
That idea didn't seem to horrify her. She followed me eagerly to the cabin.
Miss Lawrence had had plenty of time to change and titivate, but there was no sign of her. Well, I had been rather a long time with the Doctor, but it was in a good cause. I was sure she would understand. Anyway, it looked like she had taken the hump and gone for a constitutional or some other entertainment. As a dutiful husband it was my beholden duty to search her out and make the peace. I turned to instruct Miss Swat to make herself comfortable while I searched, when my hair was grasped in two taloned hands and I was pulled off balance and down.
From tell-tales such as a yielding surface and the smell of hot sex I gathered Miss Swat had pulled me down on top of her on the bed and was doing her best to insert me head first into her pussy. In such a situation there is only one thing a gentleman can do. I pushed my tongue as far into her vagina as it would go and got licking.
Miss Swat was already making a fair amount of noise when I moved north and addressed her clitoris. In no time at all her legs were wrapped around my shoulders and she was bucking and yelling in the throes of a mighty climax. Her heels drummed against my back. It was a good job my hair is thick and strong or she would have pulled out handfuls of it.
Eventually she let go and lay back on the bed with arms outstretched and black dress around her midriff.
'Oh, Mistah Neptune! Ah do declayuh mah private parts are positively on fire!'
Miss Swat inserted two fingers in her dripping cunt then raised them to her mouth. She sucked her fingers and lowered at me.
Searching for the delinquent Mrs. Neptune could wait a few minutes more. I lifted the dress to neck level for a view of those wondrous orbs. There was a suspicious scar under each, but it's a free world and anyway Neptune had a gusher in urgent need of relief. I hauled Miss Swat off the bed and onto her knees.
In a moment I was unzipped and in Miss Swat's full-lipped mouth. Her lips clamped around my shaft and her tongue thrashed as I pumped in and out. After all the stimulation I had suffered that night it was not long before I felt the tide rise and flood her hot mouth. I threw my head back and gave a howl of overdue satisfaction.
When I got my breath back I withdrew from heaven and stood back. Miss Swat slumped against the bed, her dress around her neck and semen dripping down her chin. I looked down with a sense of another job well done. I do like to please.
The champagne, whisky and excitement combined to produce an understandable desire to relieve another pressure.
I pushed through the bathroom door, squinting against the fluorescent light Miss Lawrence had thoughtlessly left on. I pointed Percy in the direction of the porcelain and let fly with a relieved grunt.
I frowned involuntarily. My grunt had been met with another. A high-pitched, angry sounding grunt. I unsquinted a little and peered around, then opened my peepers to their fullest extent and positively gawped.
Miss Lawrence had got herself into full regalia all right, not to mention somehow handcuffing herself to the shower rail. She teetered on a stool. Her eyes glared – nay, glared malevolently – at me over one of those bondage gags that looks like a refuge from a billiards table.
Through a rent in a fishnet catsuit protruded a large pink dildo. As I stared, dumbfounded, it slowly slipped out and fell to the floor. My eyes followed its descent and saw under the stool a small key that I had no doubt belonged to the handcuffs.
A snarl worked its way round the gag. I glanced down and saw that my golden stream had soaked her fish- netted legs and was working its way down to her stilettos.
That sultry southern night witnessed my first and last attempt at self- bondage. I didn't care what it said on the back of the book. One was not fun, especially when a pumped-up fluffed-out peroxoid was getting the goods from my other half. The bathroom door was only slightly ajar, so most of the action was of the overheard variety but there was certainly aural sex aplenty. It might even have been a major turn-on if I hadn't left the key to the handcuffs under the stool. I had been trussed up for what seemed like an eternity before the cabin door finally burst open and two frenzied forms threw themselves onto the bed and a great slurping and grunting began. It sounded like feeding time at Ol' Pa's pig farm. Oh, I had struggled to catch their attention all right, rattling the handcuffs against the shower rail and calling out, but the noise they were making easily canceled out the faint tinkling and stifled gurgling from the en-suite bath. Once Harry has his snout in the trough, a herd of wildebeest could stampede through the bedroom and he wouldn't miss a lick. Lush was true to her old form and it wasn't long before the screaming began.
'Land sakes! Oh my! Aaaaaaaaeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!'
Then there was a bit of scuffling, more slurping and a fresh howl, that time from my husband.
The swine! The cad! I tried to yell 'you bastard, Harry Neptune!' but all that issued was a plaintive raspberry. The ball gag was worse than a trip to the dentist. As for the nipple clamps and the clitorizer, I was throbbing painfully at all three points. Just as I began to get really, really angry, El Porco himself stumbled into the bathroom, squinting and fumbling in the bright neon light. Then he promptly proceeded to pull out his dick and spray my legs in a bad aim for the toilet bowl. The dildo dropped and I lost what little cool I had managed to retain. Yelling 'get your prostate checked you greedy old fart!!!' issued as an unintelligible animalistic snarl. Harry gawped. It takes quite a lot to astound the big chap so I added a point to my day's running score.
'Good grief, Lawrence! What on earth are you doing? Let's get that billiard ball out of your mouth for starters. What happened, darling? Surely, Captain Ahab wouldn't have ordered you trussed and confined?'
Swiftly, Harry unfastened the gag and I spat the plastic ball into his hand. (I actually aimed it at his nose but I just didn't have the puff left for a good shot.) The Flyswat's dulcet drawl issued from the cabin just as my husband unlocked the cuffs.
'Oh, Mistah Neptune! Yuh fishin' for crawfish in there? Ah sure could do with anuthuh round of mah favorite pursuit.'
Harry looked sheepish. Without a moment's hesitation, I retrieved my arms and gave him a swift left hook to the right eye. Stunned, he slumped against the towel rail, then slid slowly to the bathroom floor. Briskly, I crouched down and untied my ankles from the legs of the stool. Gingerly, I eased the nipple clamps and clit-torturer from my tender nodes. Stepping over the bulk on the rug, I peered round the door at the flopped-out Lush. She had arranged herself seductively on the bed, all naked and wanton, hair spread out in a wavy cloud upon the pillow. Her eyes were closed, her bronzed thighs parted wide.
