My Father's Second Wife Ch. 04

Viktor slammed his fist into the table and proclaimed, "We accept five year contract."

Apparently everyone had been holding their breath, because the entire room exhaled at once. My dad remained perfectly cool. He reached over, poured two shots of whisky, and he and Viktor toasted. The rest of the room was laughing and talking; Combover and Einstein were shaking hands with the lawyers and getting shots themselves.

The color returned to Margo's face; I hadn't noticed how pale she'd gotten until just now. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, "This is a good thing, a very good thing."

I was so caught up in the festive atmosphere, I almost missed hearing my father calling my name.

"Charlotte," my dad said. The knot in my stomach returned and then constricted so tightly that all of my blood stopped. I couldn't breathe. This was it.

"Charlotte," father repeated. Now that he had my attention, "Would you reach behind you and get Viktor's parting gift. It's on the floor."

I just blinked at my dad. My brain was trying to make sense of what he said. The question, "I'm not the prize?" was preoccupying every brain cell.

I blinked again. Thankfully, a few brain cells shook it off and started screaming, "Listen to your father! Turn around and get Viktor's fucking gift!"

In a daze, I turned slowly in the seat until I was on my knees bending over the back of the love seat. "What the hell is that?" I asked myself, as if the other part of my brain knew and just wasn't saying.

I reached over the back to pick it up. It looked like a fishing pole, but it clearly wasn't. It was more like a stage prop or something a clown would pretend fish with. It was a long wooden pool with a handle on one end. Thick white rope, pretending to be fishing line, was rolled up on a spool and threaded through ridiculously large metals eyes. There were several feet past the end of the pole, ending in a ludicrous plastic "hook" that wouldn't hook anything.

I was also remembering that I wasn't wearing my bikini bottom. Reaching over the back of the love seat, my legs, ass, pussy, and even my asshole were on full display to the room—lawyers and staff included.

I thought of the conference room incident at the beginning of the week. But this wasn't like that at all. I doubted anyone in this room was shocked—except maybe the lawyers, hard to tell. No, Viktor was probably mentally measuring my bung hole to see if his fat prick would fit inside it.

"But maybe you aren't going to get to slip me your white Russian after all," I thought, slyly. "Maybe dad is going to shove this pole up your Euro-trash ass."

I had retrieved the "fishing pole" and presented it to Viktor. Once I'd turned back around, and my girl goods were removed from everyone's gaze, Viktor was forced to focus on the pole I was holding. He looked every bit as confused as I was.

"Thank god I'm not the only one who's clueless," I thought.

Dad waited two beats, just long enough to let Viktor twist in the wind a little, but not long enough for Viktor to feel like he was being ridiculed. He had, after all, just agreed to a multi-hundred million dollar contract.

Dad took the pole from my hands and gave it to Viktor. "You'll find the fishing off the starboard side particularly good this time of night," he said. I don't know how much English Viktor understands, but he waited for Anton to translate. I don't think the translation helped any.

Then Viktor looked out the window. I turned to follow his gaze. Eerie blue lights were dancing off the starboard side of the boat, as if the water were on fire.

"When did that happen?" was the unspoken question.

I turned back to see father gesturing for Viktor to exit through the aft door. With some trepidation, Viktor followed my father's directions.

The mystery gripped the entire room. Without a word, everyone stood and quietly followed Viktor out, at a cautious and respectful distance. I took my eyes off the eerie blue lights to steal a glance at Margo. She was grinning like a cat, clearly in on whatever plot was unfolding.

By the time I was outside, Viktor had descended the stairs to the main deck and was approaching the starboard side. The guests had been herded to the port side, leaving Viktor to approach the dancing lights alone.

As if something might jump up and bite him, Viktor warily approached the gunwale. Still holding the comical fishing pole, he craned his neck to see the water below.

He just stared for what seemed an eternity. "What do you see, dumb ass?" I screamed at him using my Jedi mind powers.

And just when I thought the vision might have turned him to stone, Viktor let loose a roaring laugh. He turned back to his three compadres and bellowed, "Pro-SAL-ka, pro-SAL-ka!" something Russian or Ukrainian, or whatever they spoke.

With an expression that I hoped conceived utter incomprehension, I turned to Anton for a translation. With a shrug of his shoulders, he said "Mermaids?" questioning either the translation or Viktor's sanity.

Stewards appeared with more of the stupid fishing poles, handing them to Combover, Einstein, and Anton. Viktor, in the mean time, had "cast" his rod into the mysteriously glowing ocean.

I went down the stairs and walked over to the gunwale. The sight was amazing. Intense lights—blue, green, yellow, purple, orange—had been submerged in the water. Swimming around in this pool of light were ... mermaids.

"Fuck me with a stick," I said, in astonishment. OK, I assume they were mermaids. They were mermaid-shaped. With the lights underneath them, all I could see were black silhouettes, a least a half dozen, swimming and splashing about.

Viktor was now reeling one in. And by "reeling," I mean that he threw his dumb plastic hook into the water and one of the mermaids swam up it, grabbed a hold, and was being lifted out of the water—but not by Viktor. At the same time, a padded loop connected to a cable had been conveniently thrown in at the same time, and the mermaid was being hoisted by the cargo crane attached to the poop deck—the one used to transfer luggage and supplies.

Once the mermaid was hoisted above deck level, I could finally get a good look. It was definitely female, a girl in fact, about my age. She was covered in elaborate body paint. Her face, arms, breasts, and torso was a shimmering design of blues and greens. From her hips to her ankles, her skin was painted to look like fish scales in silver and grey. Her hair was lavishly decorated in sea shells, colored ribbons, and bits of fishing nets. She wore a mono-fin—basically a single, wide, flipper with two foot holds—that held her feet and legs together, completing the mermaid illusion.

As the hoist lifted her over the rail and began lowering her onto the deck, it was clear that, except of the mono-fin and the body paint, the girl was very naked. She wriggled like a fish on a line, convincingly enough.

The crane deposited her right in front of Viktor. The girl didn't try to stand in her mono-fin, sinking onto her hip, her legs/tail to one side, in a puddle of seawater.

Without saying anything, she reached out and began fumbling with Viktor's trousers. Viktor was all too eager to help, practically ripping off his belt (almost hitting the poor girl in the head) and unzipping his pants. Before you know it, Viktor's pudgy little cock had disappeared between the mermaid's icy blue lips.

Witnessing this, Einstein and Combover dashed to the gunwale, desperate to "hook" their own mermaid.

Engrossed in the spectacle, I didn't notice my father come up behind me. The touch of his hand startled me, and I jerked involuntarily.

"I didn't mean to scare you, honey buns," he said, soothing my nervousness.

"It's been a bit cray cray lately," I said. I spun to face him.

"It would have been really nice knowing what the hell was going on. For a while, I thought I was going to be a statistic in the white slave trade."

That made father laugh.

Father wrapped his arms around me and said, "You were never a bargaining chip, honey crisp. Besides, I have far too much invested in your sweet behind to trade it in on a single contract." As he said this, he lifted my cover up slightly with one hand and playfully slapped my bare ass with the other.

He diverted his eyes, as if slightly embarrassed, and said hesitantly, "Viktor might have gotten the mistaken idea that you were one of the benefits of agreeing to a long-term contract. And I might have neglected to dissuade him of that delusion."

It was my turn to reach around and slap his ass. He was still wearing a business suit, so it didn't have the same effect, but I think I got my message across.

"All in all, things have worked out pretty well. We got a contract and Viktor's getting some 'tail,'" my father said, laughing at his own pun. I noticed his hands lingering on my tail.

We watched as Combover and Einstein reeled in mermaids. All three looked like this was the most amazing thing they'd ever seen. The new arrivals went right to work on their "poles."

"I think you should get a little reward too," my father said as he signaled the hoist operator with his hand. Before I knew it, a wriggling, naked, mermaid girl was being lowered in front of me.

"Have a great evening, honey bear," my father said. He kissed me on my forehead, turned, and left to attend to other business.

The girl reached out towards me.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," I told her. I tried to take a step back, but the gunwale preventing any further escape.

"Oh, but I must," she said, in an exaggerated accent out of some costume drama. "You have caught a mermaid. I am yours until morning. It is the law of the sea."

With that declaration, she reached between my legs, parted them slightly, slipped her head underneath my cover up, and planted her face on my smooth pussy. Her tongue immediately found its way between my tender folds and began swimming up and down my canal, her sparkling blue hand caressing my ass cheeks and thighs. It felt really nice.

I leaned back against the railing, and said, "Well, we wouldn't want to argue with the 'law of the sea'..." I closed my eyes and let my mermaid have her way with me.

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I drifted. With my back against the gunwale, I could feel the ship as it imperceptibly rocked in the calm ocean water. The evening air was salty and cool. The beautiful mermaid between my legs gently nuzzled, stroked, licked, teased, and probed my excited pussy with the practiced skill of an artist.

I looked up at the stars. They were bright and clear, hardly a cloud in the sky. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the next wave of pleasure crashing between my legs.

I searched through my memory for the point in time that I'd turned into a lesbian. A few weeks ago, I would have wretched at the thought of getting it on with another girl. So much has happened these past two weeks. Now look at me. A complete stranger, painted up to look like a mermaid no less, has her tongue in my vagina, lapping up my sex like it's the last drink of water on earth, and I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be.

Was it that first night having sex with my dad and the two dancers? Did it happen when I dipped a strawberry into Beth's twat? Was it when I fingered Tina's button while my dad fucked her in the ass? Was it when I got dildoed—assuming that's a word—by Diane on her couch? Was it when I'd woken up naked in bed with Diane and her lesbian wife? At what point had I become totally comfortable having sex with women? At what point had I really started to enjoy it?

The answered questions drifted around me like soap bubbles on a summer afternoon.

"We need you, kitten," a whispering voice said. I couldn't tell where it came from.

The lips that had been so diligently applied to my pussy's pleasure, suddenly pulled away. This caused me to open my eyes. Those lips belonged to me, goddamn it.

"You should be with the guests," the whispery voice continued.

I took my eyes off the stars to look down towards the deck. A second mermaid had joined us. She had squatting down behind my mermaid and was hugging her, whispering in her ear.

"But I am with a guest," my mermaid protested. "She's a guest," she said, looking up at me, pleading to stay.

"The V.I.P. guests come first, you know that," the second mermaid said, like a mother patiently correcting a child.

My mermaid pouted her lips and protested, "But she's the one, the golden girl."

Ignoring her argument, the second mermaid pulled my mermaid back, scooped her up in her arms, and began carrying her away. The second mermaid had dispensed with her flipper in favor of legs. I could see the muscles of her thighs and ass ripple under the weight of her burden.

"Whoa, she is way fucking stronger than she looks," I thought to myself.

My mermaid's fin flopped with each step. The new mermaid kissed my mermaid lightly, as if to apologize for what she was doing. Walking away, she turned her head back to say, "We'll be back, I promise. Don't go anywhere."

And with that, my latest slice of happiness was whisked away. I looked down to see faint streaks of blue body paint smeared across my thighs.

Exasperated, I replied, sarcastically, "It's a boat. Where am I going to go?" but it was too late. They were already gone.

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The party had moved to the stern of the ship. Well aft of the big cocktail lounge was a massive poop deck. It was huge—like, helipad huge. In fact, if you cleared away all of the furniture that might be exactly what it was.

The deck was covered with carefully arranged serpentine benches, cocktail tables, and lounge chairs. It was obviously a multipurpose gathering spot, although I doubt the ship designers had what it was now being used for in mind when they built it.

Reduced to being a spectator, I watched the unfolding orgy. The two mermaids had rejoined their sea-sisters. Viktor now had three aqua-skinned beauties fanned about him, each taking turns sucking his cock. Combover was getting head from only one mermaid, but a second stood to his side, allowing him to repeatedly shove his pudgy fingers up her cunt. Maybe he thought he'd find a pearl up there?

Einstein was getting most of the action now. He was laying prone on one of the many built-in benches. His shirt was open and who knows where his pants were. One mermaid was leaning over him, engaged in a passionate, and seemingly endless, kiss. A second mermaid was riding him cowgirl style, but not your typical up-and-down piston affair. She was waving her arms over her head while undulating in a sensual—almost inhuman—fashion, all the time gyrating her hips in a kind of figure-eight motion on his dick. The coordination alone was impressive.

"I'll bet that's not something the wife back home does," I thought to myself, with a smirk.

Meanwhile, Viktor had chosen his favorite cock sucker. He reached his hands underneath her arms and lifted her up. She was still wearing her mono-fin, so spreading her legs was out the question. This was no obstacle to Viktor. He turned around and lowered her onto a bench, so her ass hung over the edge of the cushion. The other mermaids wiggled over and, taking Viktor's cock, pointed it towards the slit peeking out between her butt cheeks.

Viktor grabbed her feet/fin with one hand, a hand full of tit with the other, and drove home. Within no time, he was pumping in and out of the poor girl like a jackhammer, his enormous stomach lurching with each thrust. The other two mermaids stroked Viktor and his victim, I assume to speed Viktor's progress and to comfort the recipient of his attentions.

There weren't many witnesses to this. The rest of the guests had been shuffled off somewhere. It was just me, the mermaids, the Russians, and few stewards standing around, presumably in case there was an emergency drink order that needed filling.

I was shocked at just how hairy Viktor and Einstein were. As I watched Viktor's fuzzy ass buckle each time he thrust inside this slender sea creature, I couldn't help but think, "That could have been me." It was not a particularly pleasant thought.

Taking a mental roll call, I wondered where Anton had gotten to. I got up and slowly circled the festivities. I spied him, still standing on the upper deck. One of the stewards was kneeling in front of him. The steward had removed his jacket and shirt, sporting just the kind of smooth, well-muscled torso I so love to see on a boy. He was also sucking Anton's dick. And from the look on Anton's face, doing a damn find job of it too.

Note to self: Anton plays for the other team.

"I should be shocked," I thought. The old me would have been shocked. If the old me had come back to my dorm to find one boy sucking off another, I'd have screamed so loud glass would have shattered.

The new me just let these things roll over me. Also, the new me could hardly judge, having had so many women between my legs the past week that I was literally losing count. Was it six now?

I turned back just in time to see one mermaid dismount Einstein, his glistening dick bouncing in the night air, but only long enough for the next one to climb on. She swung her leg over, positioning his pole between her legs, lowered herself onto it, and resumed the dance. Most of the mermaids had lost their fins by now.

Viktor, in the mean time, had gotten creative. He'd stacked a second mermaid on top of the first, and was now up on tip-toes ramming his meat as deep into her as he could. Even in the cool night air, sweat was dripping from his body. For a moment, I wondered what that smelled like; I shuttered at the thought.

While the Russians weren't in good physical condition, they were mesmerized by the shear spectacle of feminine charms laid before them. They weren't going to stop until they'd exhausted themselves, and maybe not even then. I found an unoccupied bench to wait it out.

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The debauchery was distracting enough that I didn't notice the mermaid walking towards me until she was only a few feet away. Without acknowledging me, she sat down on the bench next to me, just within arm's reach, clearly taking a break from the revelry. She stretched out, like a cat, leaning back with her arms over the back, her long toned body glinting in the moonlight.

We said nothing.

Trying to be circumspect, I surveyed her out the corner of my eye. Yep, she was the mermaid that stole "my" mermaid.

I broke the silence, nonchalantly commenting, "I hope you're here to apologize."

"Yea, sorry about that," she said, seeming genuinely sorry.

"Nix forgets, sometimes, that we're being paid to fuck the customers, not make out with whomever she fancies," she said.

Smiling, she continued, "Nix lives in the moment. One of the things I dearly love about her," eager to explain her friend to me.

When I still didn't say anything, she added, "You've stolen her heart, you know."

I turned to look at her. The expression on my face conveyed my utter bewilderment at what she was talking about. This mermaid girl spent ten minutes between my legs. How had I stolen her heart? Did I have some kind of supernatural power over women?

Seeing my reaction, the girl made an elaborate show of rolling her head and her eyes, crying, "Oh, sweet Jesus! Please don't tell me you don't recognize us. Nix will be crushed."

My confusion was replaced by consternation. "Recognize them?" I thought to myself. Where would I know them from? I began scrambling through my memory. Office? No. Party? No. College? No. Shopping? No.

"Oh, Fuck!" I thought. I know that face—and that body. I glanced down at her knees for confirmation. I was so embarrassed.

Sheepishly, I slowly said, "You're the two who were with my dad and I when we were..." and I let the sentence tail off, suddenly unable to say it out loud.