Caribbean Passion Ch. 10

Estella got up to follow Pablo, but Carmen placed a warning hand on her shoulder. "You're not leaving!"

Estella, in a sudden burst of anger, pulled her hand away. "SHUT UP!" She lunged forward and pushed Carmen, who sat down on her bed forcefully. "I've had it with this! I need to get out of here!" She took Pablo's hand.

Pablo flung open the door and stepped into the corridor, followed by Estella, who slammed the door behind her.

"GET BACK HERE!" yelled Carmen from inside the cabin.

"NO!" replied Carmen, as Pablo strode purposefully down the corridor.

Up on the Lido Deck, which was actually the open back area of Fourth Deck, Pablo and Estella were seated at a white plastic table with equally white, equally plastic chairs. A hole in the middle of the table held a large parasol. It was now night and the waters of the Sargasso Sea lapped against the stern of the ship far below. The stars were twinkling and a crescent moon graced the sky.

"She's nuts," remarked Pablo. "I don't know what I was thinking when I slept with her."

"What most guys think, I should imagine," replied Estella, with a smile. "She's hot, right?"

Pablo had to admit. "She is," he conceded. "She's got a body that could make men weep."

"Her pussy can weep, too," said Estella.

"What?" Pablo started.

"With pleasure."

"Huh?"

"Baby, what do you think I'm doing with her?"

"I don't know."

"Wow." Estella looked out at the sea. "We're in a relationship."

"Oh, I see," remarked Pablo, his eyes widening. "So you and her are..."

"Right."

"Well, I guess I didn't see that coming."

"It's the only reason I put up with her."

"I don't think you should. She doesn't have the right to hit you."

"It's just a domestic."

"No, it's not. I mean, I don't have a right to judge your relationship -- I don't know much about how your kind of relationships work -- but I can't see how, if it's bad for a man to hit his girlfriend or wife, why two women who are together should have to put up with it."

"It's complicated. It's kind of a dom-sub thing."

"Really?" Pablo thought for a minute. "I've heard of lesbians doing the butch-femme bit. Is it like that?"

"Kinda."

"The butch looks really masculine, though. In your case -- I'm just guessing -- Carmen's super-womanly and feminine, and you're kind of lighter, slender -- more waif-like."

"Yeah, I'm the sensitive one with the small, perky breasts and Pre-Raphaelite hair and she's the one with the giant mammaries and curves who looks like a Latina Jayne Mansfield who just escaped from the zoo."

Pablo smiled. "It sure looks like that!"

"Yeah, well -- it doesn't have to be that way. I didn't plan it like that -- you know, meeting her and all. I came here to dance, just like you. We had to share a cabin. I happen to like girls AND boys. She wanted moral support and someone to stick up for her. We clicked, although she has a fearsome temper."

"Agreed," remarked Pablo.

"Then, one night, she came out of the shower naked -- not to turn me on or anything but just to grab something to wear for the night. We got to talking about sex and body parts and what I like to do with mine and what she likes to do with hers and so on, blah, blah...then she laid down on her bed and, man, those gorgeous curves. She was HAWWWT. I couldn't help myself. One thing led to another and..."

"I see," replied Pablo. "So now you're an item."

"Well, kinda. I thought she must be bi like me but I'm not actually totally sure. Like, she enjoys what happens between us, but I'm not sure whether that actually means she's bi or just cares about the pleasure. Bi-curious, maybe."

"That's a tough call -- but, if it's OK to say -- I'm more inclined to say the pleasure."

"That's what all the straight guys say. They don't know how awesome girl-on-girl feels, though. There's emotional connection, physical pleasure, hanging out like a couple of schoolgirls at the mall..."

"Being bisexual sure sounds like fun," said Pablo.

"If you don't mind everyone else in the community banging on about choosing sides."

"I think it's better for women, though. Like, I can totally imagine being female and having a straight best friend who's so close that I could get physical and experiment with her and that would be OK. As a guy, though, if I was bi, I could never do that with a straight guy; and I'm not sure I wanna do anything with a gay guy."

"Right. Definitely."

A pause. Then Pablo asked, "Why does Carmen care so much about this 'Latinos sticking together' bit?"

"History," said Estella, simply.

"History?"

"Bad history. Bad, bad history."

"Uh-huh."

Estella looked at Pablo. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Sure."

"Promise you won't tell anyone."

"OK, I promise."

Estella lowered her voice and looked around at the smattering of passengers around the Lido, and the small crowd getting drunk on frozen margaritas and yards of ale at the bar. All was clear. Turning back to Pablo, she said, "Her dad was violent -- slapped her mum around so bad she spent a couple of times in hospital."

"Wow."

"Carmen started dancing. She told me it was an escape -- anything to get out of the house for a few hours. Her teacher was big on Latin culture, food, dancing, language -- made her believe in herself more and become proud of her culture."

"Sounds great."

"Well, it was. Then she got in with this dancer guy and she slept with him to try to get him to pay for her to enter a dance competition. She didn't have any money. He agreed and he paid. Her mum found out and kicked her out. She stayed in a bunch of cheap joints, using the gift of the gab talking about how she loved Latin culture as a way to open doors. She used her body to get men to do what she wanted and to shut them up. I guess that's how she learned to survive."

"Hmmm," said Pablo. "Quite a story. It doesn't explain why she's got an attitude against Lucia, though."

Estella sighed. "I don't know. Different language, different culture, slightly different music, doesn't want to be called Latin, which is an insult to Carmen. Middle class. Nice background. Never went hungry. Daddy could pay for her to be a dance champion. Can't have sex with her -- you name it!"

Pablo laughed. "Maybe! I guess I'm getting the picture now."

Estella reached out across the table to touch Pablo's hand. "Anyway, thanks."

"Thanks for what?"

"For getting me away from Carmen tonight."

"No problem, I -"

"Before you knocked on the door, she had been slapping me around some more -- pulled my hair, yelled -- screamed, more like. It could have been bad."

"Well, I didn't do anything. It was unplanned. I just wanted to get to the bottom of what happened earlier."

"Even so, I think I can make it up to you." She gazed at his face. She drank in his handsome features, his strong body and that manly chest.

"What are you going to do?"

Estella stood up, still holding his hand. "Come with me."