Rapture's Rendezvous

“Damn lucky, ain't ya, lad?” one man sneered, dealing cards once again, as Alberto scraped in his winnings.

“Yeah. Guess I am,” Alberto boasted. He liked the coins even as much as the green bills. He knew that if he had several of those, there were many things that could be bought for himself. His eyes traveled behind him, smelling the sweetness of the beautiful lady who was leaning over him, running her fingers through his hair. When their eyes met, she winked enticingly toward him, licking her lips, making her painted lips shine like fresh raindrops just fallen onto the petals of a rose. Velvet. Pure velvet. That was what her lips were, he thought hungrily to himself. When he looked lower, he could feel his face reddening. What lay before him were two mountains of breasts, heaving, trying to fall free from the dress that revealed the deepest of cleavage and the smallest of waists.

Turning, Alberto placed his cards in his hands, smiling widely, spreading the cards, seeing three Aces and two Kings. Yes. A full house was what the men had called this. Surely he was going to win again. Damn. How had he ever existed without playing this exciting game? He felt more alive now than ever before.

“What's yore bet, lad?” a man with a heavy beard and cigar hanging from between his lips asked.

“The highest I can go,” he said daringly.

“What's that you say?” another shouted, frowning.

“What's the highest I can bet?”

Laughter bounced from man to man. “All of it, sonny boy,” one encouraged. “All the damn money in yore pocket if.ya be brave enough to do it.”

Alberto ran his fingers across his brow, contemplating his fate. His eyes jerked from one man to another, seeing apprehension, possibly even fear etched across their faces. “All I have?” he said softly.

The man next to Alberto spat chewing tobacco into the wind, and with an elbow, nudged Alberto in the side. “Shore, son,” he boomed. “Why not? What do ya have to lose?” Then he tore into a fit of laughter, taking his billed hat from his head, tapping it against his leg, watching Alberto's reaction.

Setting his jaw firmly, Alberto searched inside his pockets. He felt that he was being made fun of. He felt that they didn't think he was smart enough to know what he was doing. Well, he would show them. He had won so much, what would it matter if he lost this time? And, anyway, he had given Maria the largest amount of their money to keep safe.

His heart stopped short. His head swung around, seeing the absence of Maria beside their bunks. Oh, God, he thought to himself. Where was she? Then his eyes captured her hat. .. lying on deck. . ..

He pushed himself up with one quick motion, ready to dash back to where he had left Maria, when soft hands covered his own.

“Where're you goin', darlin'?” the honey-dipped voice said from behind him.

Alberto felt something tighten in his groin as he turned and found this beautiful creature moving closer to him, placing her body so close he could feel the largeness of her breasts crushing against him. His eyes glanced downward, seeing the deep cleavage once again and what lay on each side. His manhood began to swell inside his breeches, suddenly feeling a need he had for so long been forced to keep quelled. And now? Was this lady .. . willing … to let. . . him … ? His eyes widened when he felt a hand brush lower, against the tightness of his breeches.

Loud laughter brought him to his senses. The men were all watching, enjoying his embarrassment of the moment. He looked down into the eyes of this woman … the eyes of a cat. .. so green and flashing. .. then pulled her lips to his and damn well showed the men that.he indeed knew what to do under such circumstances. He even grew bold enough to let a hand wander upward and touch the softness of the flesh of a breast. His heartbeats consumed him as his fingers continued to explore, circling this part of a woman he up to now had only been able to admire from afar. He had so often wanted to even touch Maria … but had been afraid to ask….

“Hey!” a man boomed from the ship's deck. “Are ye a goin’ to play cards or pussy?”

Hating to set this woman free, Alberto clung for a moment longer, then whispered into her ear, “You're so beautiful.”

“Win this hand and ya can touch more than my tits, darlin',” she whispered back-, blowing into his ear, making goose bumps ride his spine.

“Then win it I shall,” he said, giving her breast just one more squeeze. “And your name? What might it be?”

“Just call me Grace,” she said, giggling.

Alberto had to join in the quiet laughter. Grace didn't seem the appropriate name for a woman who gave of her body so freely. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now, except that knowing how to win at cards would be to also win at something even more important. He would soon know the secrets that lay hidden beneath a woman's skirt.

“Let me win this hand,” he said. “Then we can get on with the most pleasurable side of life.” He released his hold on her, smiling crookedly. Scooping the cards back up into his hands, he squatted and checked them once again. Yes. He had a winning hand. Yes. He would bet all he had in his pockets. With one thrust, he threw all his coins and green bills onto the pile of money that had already been bet by the other men.

With a pounding heart, he watched as each man spread his cards out on the floor in front of them, revealing a various assortment of what could be winning hands . . . except that Alberto's had the most Aces, with two Kings to confirm his win.

“Damn it all to hell,” one man grumbled, puffing angrily on his cigar. “A damn full house. You did it again, lad. Don1 know how, since you never did play before. But, you sure as hell took my money from me.”

“I'm quitting for a while, gents,” Alberto said, grinning from ear to ear. “I've better things to do, if you know what I mean.” He began to pull the money toward him, but was stopped when a boot lowered, to rest on his hand. He looked up into beady, dark eyes, surrounded by thick, scraggly whiskers.

“Not so fast, sonny boy,” the man said, increasing his weight on Alberto's hand, making Alberto wince.

“I won fair and square,” Alberto said, feeling the bones in his fingers straining to be set free.

The man glowered, spitting chewing tobacco next to Alberto's knee. “In this game o’ chance, you don' just play to keep the money,” he said darkly. “You give the men a chance to win it all back. Don’ you see? Tha's part o’ this game, sonny boy.”

Grace moved lithely toward this man attired in garments that reeked of sweat and tobacco juices. “Now, Sam,” she purred, wrapping her fingers around his hand, squeezing it. “You know it doesn't really matter. Now does it?”