Emily Booth is the the most famous burlesque dancer on the planet, her name is synonymous with provocative yet tasteful dancing, dancing that can only be truly appreciated by a man of restraint. She steps out of a giant bird cage wearing a finely fitting over bust corset extenuating her perfect elegant figure, On her fine long legs and shapely calves she has black pin-stripe stockings with frilly French suspenders and a ribbon over each thigh beneath which she has matching French lace underwear.
A black lace ribbon tied neatly in a bow offset to one side sits rests around her beautiful swan like neck. Her sweet facial features are subtly exaggerated with a little blush powder applied to her cheeks and she has a beauty spot painted with a china graph pencil just below the dimple on her left cheek drawing the eye to her bright vivid smile. a moderately applied layer of charcoal mascara around her long natural, curled eyelashes. Her mascara is complemented by a modest coating of gun smoke grey eye shadow. She has bright silver eyes that sparkle in the light.
She climbs off her swing and steps out of her giant bird cage, heading strait towards Fred as she gazes at him with a provocative smile. She stops only a foot away from him then leans forward towards him. Her chin up forming a flat line from the tip of her chin down her neck and chest to perfect bust, fully exposed to a view from the above angle. The spectacle beguiling on the hundredth occasion as it was in the very first experience.
Her sweet full lips with their smooth sharp contrast against her complexion now only a few inches from his own as she slowly closes her eyes for what seems like an eternity compared to a normal blink. She puckers her lips going in for the kiss, instead she kisses the air, teasing him before standing upright again and turning to her right slightly incline.
Her smooth sleek lines curved like a magnificent sculpture, as she stands there, both her firm buttocks and pert breasts visible from this perspective. She winks at him placing one hand on her right buttock as she blows him a kiss with her left followed by a short coy giggle and a wink. She stands there swaying her hips slowly, tantalisingly close, only and arms length away.
Bringing both hands up to her front she caresses herself, the fingertips of both hands gliding all the way up from her belly button up to the top of her corset where they stop, hovering just above the top clasp as she gives him a mischievous grin. She starts to slowly unbuckle the top clasp with a pop, then the next one, all the way down in succession, pop- pop- pop- pop. With the unclasping of th final clasp she parts her arms like an eagle spreading its wings and lest the corset fall to the floor. Beneath it she is wearing a fish net body stocking that perfectly hugs her shapely figure and a a pair of black feather nipple tassels.
Fred starts to slouch in her fine red leather arm chair he stole or rather acquired from the officers mess. Just then a small droplet hits him on his fore head and he looks up just as another drip falls hitting him in the eye and flowing down the side of his nose. He wipes his face and curiously takes a sniff. Strangely it does not smell of water, it has a more appealing, musky scent to it. Reaches over to a vintage black and white wireless set in a fine mahogany cabinet. Both doors already open he presses the pause button.
The perfect image could easily be mistaken for a real women wearing black lipstick as she stands there now frozen, her chest fully exposed as she stands there spread eagle. He restored the wireless set himself. Its an old model, no one uses black and white any more but it is more reliable and the picture quality is far better than the grainy image of a modern colour design.
He has only just bought the Emily Booth boxed set vinyls when they were at port in Liverpool and this is the first disk in the collection. He hasn't seen any of them yet and he seems annoyed at this sudden interruption to his viewing pleasure. He looks very at home on his comfortable red chair , feet up on an empty crate. To look at him you wouldn't know that he was in a large but cluttered and noisy engine room, you would think that he was in a lounge.
He pulls open a draw in a cabinet next to his wireless and picks up a small tobacco chest and a pipe, he flips the lid up and breathes in deeply through his nose. inside is a partition, one side is full to the brim with vanilla tobacco, the other with herb. He fills the pipe up with tobacco and then crumbles a generous helping of herb on top. He strikes a match and inhales, taking a deep drag of herb.
Aziz the apprentice is the only other person in the room, he is polishing a brass regulator when he catches a whiff of herb. "Fred that's your third one this week!" Fred stares at him with a blasé look on his face. "So!"
"It's Monday!"
"...Open the extractor will you." The engine room has an extraction system to remove any nauseous gases from the engine and remove the smell of chemicals from the passengers quarters, it is also very affective at removing the smell of herb and tobacco too- very convenient in a ship where smoking is banned below deck. Aziz steps up onto a work bench in front of the window and pulls the leaver to start the extraction fan then gets back to polishing the regulator.
Fred takes another drag on the pipe and slouches into his chair with a sigh. He stares at the projection, mesmerised by the exotic beauty before he has another whiff of his fingers, "Hmm...It looks like water but it has a very slightly greasy consistency like thin oil or melted butter.... Coolant perhaps?' He murmurs to himself unable to distinguish the smell for sure over the smell of grease and engine oil permeating his hands. "What?" shouts Aziz. "Oh nothing...I think there might be a coolant leak in the first class deck"
Or at least he thinks it might be coolant. He considers tasting it but decides not to in case it is coolant and wipes it on his coveralls instead. Another drop lands right in his pipe and puts out his prize winning herb. Herb, like opium, Tobacco and absinthe are very expensive and listed under controlled substances, hard to get hold of and highly taxed when bought legitimately. Just an ounce of his gourmet substance is worth a weeks wages and he may have just lost an eighth of that, he is not happy, then again he can always grow more.
Fred is the ships engineer, he lives in the engine room of the cruiser, he has been working as the ships chief engineer since the day it was commissioned and served along side the ships captain when they were both in the Royal Navy. The captain, while strict has complete faith in Fre'd's competence as an engineer and has given Fred and his team a lot more leeway than the rest of the crew.
There are sketches and designs for various contraptions and improvements to the ship as well as the odd print of a pin up girl here and there showing a little shoulder of thigh with a cute smile or cheeky grin. Scattered everywhere throughout the engine room is a whole host of tools and machines. Piles of dust, filings and swath make the room appear more like an old workshop than the engine room of s white star liner flag ship.
Fred and his small staff of two technicians and an apprentice have become a little crew in their own right often taking charge of the ship while in port, supervising the restocking and fitting while in dry dock the rest of the crew are on leave. While not a real gentleman he is next in line for first officer of the ship however he loves his job and probably wont accept it.
Sometimes however he gets bored and when everything is running smoothly it can actually be a most monotonous lifestyle. He passes the time by restoring old technology he buys cheap at auctions such as his black and white wireless and by proposing and installing modifications to the ship. The captain usually approves if only to give his staff something to do again.
He has already increased the ships speed by ten percent and he and his apprentice have given up their quarters in favour of permanent residency in the engine room, their quarters becoming little more than a store cupboard, the booming engine no louder than background radiation on a crystal radio to him now. When all else fails he has a vast collection of erotic vinyl and a secret lover to keep him busy.
