All She Ever Wanted

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.