go, thoughtfully.
Jay reentered my orbit, one hand thrust into a trouser pocket and the other gripping a fresh glass of Hermaphrodite.
'So what was that all about?'
'I really don't know. I was having a bit of fun putting the shits up him by threatening to spill the beans about his botty-smacking tryst, and he completely lost his sense of humor. Accused me of blackmailing him. I mean, would I do such a thing?'
'Yes, but only if he had enough money.'
'True enough. But you told me yourself that miser though he is, he never earned enough to be worth putting the squeeze on.'
I took Jay's glass to wet my lips. Something alcoholic lurked under the secondary ingredients. My lips went slightly numb.
'That's not the point, anyway,' I continued. 'Then he said, 'Not you as well?''
'You mean, as in, 'Not you as well as another blackmailer?''
'That's the ticket. It seems someone else has been putting the black on him. Why? More illicit corporal punishment? Hardly seems like a serious enough slip for a proper blackmail bid. What's he been up to? He's your ex-lover, what could that boring fart possibly have done to merit grade A extortion?'
I suppressed a powerful urge to rub my painted mustache, which was starting to itch. I do like to get it on with another girl but I've never been inclined towards dressing for the manly role. Playfully, I massaged Harry's bottom through his evening dress and he slapped my hand away with a petulant pout.
'Don't be so sexist! We're in public! Do you want to ruin my reputation?'
'What reputation would that be, gorgeous? Anyway, the plot is getting so thick we'll soon have our boots stuck in it. I overheard a rather interesting snippet of conversation en route to the Boners. Dunnett did Swat's tits.'
The statuesque creature in purple shrugged.
'So? Who wouldn't?'
'No dear. The sozzled Scots sawbones created Jezebel.'
'Is this a cryptic word game?'
Sometimes Harry Neptune can be so obtuse it makes me want to scream. I took a restorative draught of my Hermaphrodite. Interestingly, it didn't appear to be affecting me at all. My head was clear, if filled with enough clues to keep Scotland Yard busy for a month.
'Listen to me, you big puce tart! Dr. Dunnett is or was a breast enlargement surgeon. Swat's boobs are about to hit her bony little sun-kissed knees and she's ready to sue for malpractice. And, just to put the icing on the cake, Boner flushed like crazy when I made that joke about him being into ladies' frocks.'
Harry tossed his stunning auburn locks.
'So you're saying the old master's a closet queen and Swat's continental shelf is drifting south thanks to the professional shortcomings of another closet queen who I strongly suspect didn't have to rent his outfit for the night. There were no evening kilts in the ship's dress hire store, I can tell you. I had to go through the entire inventory before they exhumed this rag from the Lost and Found. Bloody tight it is too.'
A wicked thought entered my mind.
'We need to go look in some closets, my darling.'
'I thought clothes bored you.'
'It depends. Sometimes they can be quite revealing. And I'm not just referring to the Lush's little cocktail outfit. How are your burglary skills, Raffles?'
Grinning broadly, my partner in crime extracted a hairpin from his faux coiffure.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: OUT OF THE CLOSET
A little breaking and entering never did anyone any harm. Or not me, anyway.
The party was building up a head of steam around us. All the denizens of the Captain's table the night before were present and correct, apart from Ahab himself. He was probably off somewhere detecting with Inspector Parrot. Mrs. Goldfinkel had buttonholed Mr. Deal and was lecturing him about something or other over glasses of Hermaphrodite.
'Let's do Boner and Frip's cabin while they're stocking up on free grub.'
The oddly matched pair were stuffing carrots and various greenery into their mouths at the buffet table. As I watched Boner glanced around and slipped a handful of assorted nuts into his evening bag.
We slipped out onto the deck after snagging a couple more glasses of Hermaphrodite.
'You know, thish shtuff's got absholutely no kick to it whatshoever!'
Miss Lawrence hiccupped, staggered a little as the night air hit her, and hung onto my arm.
'I'll need a shtiffener when we get back if I'm to fashe the resht of the night!'
She giggled.
'Letsh do it in their cabin!'
'Hush, you daft bat. We're burglars, not – not – whatever people who do it in other people's cabins are!'
'Letsh do it here then!'
Jay gave me a sozzled look and pushed me against the rail. She grabbed the hem of my dress and lifted my skirts. A bejeweled finger crept up my thigh.
'Gerroff! I'm not that kind of girl! Tits first!'
'You ain't got no titsh! They're fake!'
'What a thing to say to a nice girl!'
'You're not a girl! Or nice! You're a – you're not wearing any pantiesh!! You shlapper!'
Miss Lawrence's mind had to be returned to the matter in hand, but that was not going to happen until something else had happened. Come to think of it, now she had put the idea into my head…
I looked around for a relatively secluded spot and pulled Miss Lawrence, hand still up my skirts, into the lee of a pile of life rafts.
She put my hand on her crotch then thrust her own hand down her trousers.
'Feel that! Aren't I a big boy! I'll give you such a sheeing to…'
I had a feeling real cross-dressers were a little more sophisticated in their play, but needs must. I masturbated her hand vigorously through the cloth.
'Don't make me come in my pantsh! They'll shtain… where'sh your pushy gone?'
A questing finger was searching for an orifice beneath my dress. I deemed it time Harry Neptune took charge.
'Zip or buttons?'
I tugged at Mr(s) Neptune's belt – in fact, my own thick black belt borrowed for the occasion.
'Buttonsh of coursh. I'm a gentleman!'
The finger had reached my bum when I pulled my wife's dress trousers down and pushed her against the life rafts.
'Ooh! You're no lady! You're an imposhter!'
'And someone went overboard when they circumcised you, sir. Have at you…'
I thrust into Jay's slippery cleft and set up a fast rhythm. Finesse was out. Harry was in, and we still had burglary to commit.
Jay's finger inserted itself in my anus. Slightly shocked, I returned the compliment. My dress rustled against her dinner jacket. I felt her nipples hard even through the thick material.
'Harriet…!'
