Chapter 4

Trish decided to take a short break from the escort girl scene after that wedding party project. Her private parts were exhausted from the constant humping from the groom and the five groomsmen sniffing after her sweet snatch throughout the entire affair.

At least she felt that she had done a good job and the pay was excellent.

She turned the entire operation over to her bed-buddy accountant and told Betty and Veronica they could keep 75% of everything they made which made them as happy as pigs in a mud thinking about the profits.

Wanting a change of scene, she booked a cruise to the Bahamas and planned to take it easy on the cruise and not go chasing after marks to boost her sizable bank deposits stashed in various banks in different locations.

Of course, she had two sets of books. One for the IRS and the other one for her own information. She kept them satisfied with a marginal income with some tip money included for good measure to make it all seem aboveboard and on the level.

She made a point of keeping her expenses down and not making any large purchases that might be questionable considering her reported level of income.

Of course, all her best laid plans went down drain the first night on board the Aztec Princess premier cruise ship slowly winding its way along the customary ports of call on the southern shores.

She had splurged and got a single cabin with its own bathroom and even a round porthole window that sometimes went down too low into the water, and she did her best not to look too closely.

Trish took a lengthy shower using the new French scented bubble bath and she dried her long blond hair with the top of the line hair dryer purchased just for this voyage.

She sat in front of the mirror looking at her blonde tresses thinking that she might have made a mistake in coloring her hair for this vacation. She hardly recognized the woman in the mirror thinking she looked like some addicted Marilyn Monroe fan with not a brain in her head.

She mollified her self esteem by telling herself, “At least its real and not a wig like some of these middle-aged broads with a blonde hair and blue eyed fetish from childhood.”

Trish hesitated to put on her undies.

Finally, she selected the French naughty ones with the open crotch just in case she got lucky and found a sperm donor with time on his hands.

They clung tightly to her lower body, and she loved the freedom of the open crotch knowing that all she had to do was spread her legs and her secrets would be exposed to her masculine prey.

Still, she had enough common sense to know it would be better to keep her feminine secrets to herself until after she had vetted the prospect for his lack of duplicity and friendly intent.

She donned her six-inch “fuck me” shoes and slowly made her way to the main ballroom to check out the general feel of the other passengers. She knew that most of the passengers were there as partners in a double cabin, but she was certain there were quite a few older males with a wandering eye and the crew always had lotharios hidden in their macho ranks to provide a fun voyage for unattached females.

At least now she was fully recovered from her wedding party orgy and ready to move on to new adventures choosing her new partner or partners with her discerning eyes.

The bartender was a handsome fellow. She knew he was too handsome and too friendly to be in reserve for female companionship. He was obviously swinging for the other side and his goal was a well-hung male and not any unattached female looking for a good time.

Still, he was a good conversationalist, and he had a ready laugh to spice up her mood for the evening’s atmosphere. The man sitting next to her at the bar was taking liberties with her bare leg and failed to desist even when she nailed him with her evil eye warning him of consequences.

Finally, she had not choice other than to bene his little pinky back and he lost all interest with the painful result.

She moved away from the bar to a separate table and ordered a fresh Margarita to keep her mood on a positive slope. A crew member three sheets to the wind approached her table and asked if she wanted to dance. He was eager to get her body next to his, but she shook her head in the negative because he was obviously shorter than her and she hated to be on a dance floor with a guy shorter than her. Besides, she suspected that he was lacking on the size issue with regard to his tool of creation as well because his trousers were tight enough for her to make an experienced guess about what was hidden in his crotch.

Trish made her way back to her stateroom alone despite the fact she was pausing to lean against the bulkhead from time to time to steady her forward progress.

A young crew member asked her in a differential tone of voice, “Does madame need any assistance to her stateroom?”

Her first thought was that the young punk should mind his own business, but she saw the ridiculousness of her situation and responded in a meek manner, “Thank you, kind sir, I think I would like the use of your shoulder as I may have overdone the Margaritas a bit too much.”