For Art's Sake Ch. 04

In this chapter, the plot plods along a little bit, and the girls share some time alone. All characters are at least eighteen and are fictional.

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Karen Waters, the Stepdaughter of Mrs. Waters, only briefly greeted her Stepmother in passing as she made her way to her cabin forward of the mainmast. It had been a long trying day, and all she wanted were some peace and quiet, and perhaps a little sympathetic petting from her friend. On her way through the dining area, she saw her brother greeting a good-looking young man she'd never seen before. Other than causing a quick second look, the man didn't strike her as anyone extraordinary.

It was only on greeting her friend Mary who was sitting on the bunk that she had cause for concern. After kissing one another gently and squeezing each other close, Mary blurted out the question, "Did you see him?"

"I've seen enough men for one day, dear," Karen sighed.

"I mean the new one. He came aboard today while you were gone," Mary said.

"I did notice someone new as I passed a moment ago. He's quite ornamental," Karen said wearily.

"Well, I don't like him. How do we know we can trust him? He might be a murderer, or a pirate, or even a rapist," said Mary, now getting excited.

"Perhaps he is all three. I believe they are not mutually exclusive," Karen replied calmly.

Karen had been hoping for a bit of comforting but found herself in the position of the comforter. Mary was the anxious one, the worrier, the most likely to become upset. It was probably because her family was relatively impoverished, as were most families compared to Karen's. Perhaps she was just made that way. But for whatever reason, it was clear Karen's friend's concerns must come first.

A knock on the cabin door preceded an excited query from outside, "Karen, what's the news? Are you engaged?"

"Later, Mother. I've got a headache!" answered Karen.

"I'm dying to hear all about it. Maybe after dinner, then?"

"Yes, after dinner, Mother."

Karen took off the long, loose-fitting dress she was wearing, revealing the bathing suit she wore underneath. It was a twin of the one Mary had been wearing when she dove in to save James. In other words, it was quite revealing. It showed Karen's legs bare almost entirely, her slender arms, and even her shoulders. Black and white, it contrasted well with her long blond hair.

"Lay down on the bunk and tell me what is bothering you, dear," she said softly to Mary.

Mary was the younger of the two by a few months, but she looked like Karen's older sister. This was because she was taller and bustier. It was a beautiful sight. Karen sat, gently stroking Mary's billowy golden-red hair, saying, "There, there, little one. Tell me about this bad man."

There is no need to repeat the story. Mary's version followed the official account for the most part. She downplayed any unpleasantness she had experienced during the rescue proper. The horror she felt at Tea was another thing altogether. She harped on the disappearing cake and biscuits. You'd think she didn't believe such things were made for eating. The way she described it, James might as well have been looting the family jewels.

When it came to the young man's nakedness, she didn't even mention his shrunken member. She got her disgust across to her friend by shuddering from head to toe. Karen could understand the feeling completely since she was no fan of public nudity, especially the male variety. Such behavior was beyond the pale unless the man was an actor of stage or screen. Then this same stunt and appearance would be considered by the press to be merely raffish instead, fodder for public consumption.

Karen pondered the matter silently while stroking Mary's hair. Could the good-looking young man be a publicity-seeking actor? She imagined the headline, "Mr. X, The Well Known Actor Rescued By Millionaire's Daughter's Friend."

Of course, it would have been better had it been the millionaire's daughter responsible for the rescue. For one thing, the headline would be snapper, but how could Mr. X have known who would have been available? Besides, the facts were tricky things for the press, especially the theatrical kind. She wouldn't be surprised if the last word was left off the headline. If called on it by someone in the know, the paper could cite the reason was lack of space.

The reader should not mock either of the girls. They haven't had the opportunity to read the first chapter of this tale. Their fantastical explanations of the facts, as known to them, differed from reality as much as from each other. If each was far-fetched, they were not utterly impossible. They were both highly unusual explanations, but not impossible.

What is more interesting is the colors each girl's interpretation painted the lad in. Mary's version was dark gray, almost black, with a splash of blood-red thrown in for relief. While Karen's was bright colors with a glint of gold tossed in for glamour. Both were exciting, and each was getting its adherent worked up.

"Hold me. Squeeze me," asked Mary holding open her arms.

"Oh, alright, but I'm sure there is nothing to worry about," said Karen nestling down beside her friend. "My brother was talking to him just now. He will discover what's what."

"That's not much of a comfort to tell you the truth. To think all our lives depend on Arthur. Ha!" Mary snorted.

"I thought you liked him," Karen said in surprise.

"I just finished telling you I don't trust him. He could be a pirate, or a murderer, or even a rapist," Mary replied.

"Certainly not. I've known him all of my life. I would have known."

"Who?"

"My brother, Art," cried Karen.

"I was talking about that fiend, James Whatley, or whatever name he is using today," Mary explained.

"I doubt he's a fiend. But he is starved for attention. Actors can be that way, or so I've heard," Karen mused aloud.

"Well, he seemed to be starving, that's for sure," Mary agreed.

"He could have been hungry too. I've heard that artists sometimes get that way," Karen said, finally hitting on the truth of the matter.

"So do criminals. I've heard that they do too!" Mary countered.

"So do I, and as it happens, I could eat a horse. The picnic was a failure as far as the food goes. The company wasn't brilliant either," Karen complained, at last getting a few words in about her dreadful day.

"I'm so sorry, dear. I should have asked," Mary said chagrined. "Did Freddy ask you to marry him?"

"No, he did not. It's a pity because I really wanted to say no. I suppose it is only fair to wait to be asked before saying no. Or is it permitted for a girl to say no preemptively? Do you know?" Karen asked.

"No, but I don't see why not. Why should the man get to set the pace?" said the man-hater Mary. She may have been biased, but she has a point. Is it fair that a woman should have to live in silence about marrying a man forever just because he hasn't yet asked?

"But it may not stick if you do. It hasn't worked for me with your brother," Mary went on. "The more times I say I wouldn't marry him if he was the last man on the planet, the more he fawns on me."

"Poor dear, he loves you so much," Karen whispered.

"Why did he get all goggle-eyed at the girls of the Moulin Rouge if he loves me? Especially at that horrid Mistinguett, or whatever her name was?" Karen asked.

"All men stare, dear."

"Exactly!" Karen felt her case against men was ironclad.

"Besides, she was older then my mother," Karen said, meaning to bring comfort. How was she to know she'd hit a nerve?.

Mary's friend's Step-mom had been paying too much attention to Arthur. Mary had suspicions of that immoral conduct was happening between the two, or at least, was under contemplation. But this wasn't something she felt she could disclose to her friend.

Now that the comforting had become mutual, words were unnecessary. They turned towards each other and squeezed. They had often found embracing and kissing to be the best way to forget troubles. After a few deep wet kisses, neither one of them could think at all. They were young and naïve. They didn't understand what they were doing. Two more chaste minded young girls you could not find. For them, it was not sexual, but it was pleasurable, very much so.

Mary pulled her muslin dress almost to her waist. Karen entwined her bare legs with Mary's. A sigh escaped from each at the sensation. Mary grasped the other's hip and rolled on her back again, hauling the smaller girl atop her. They were perfectly positioned to give each other as much pleasure as possible while wearing clothes. At least that is what they thought in their naïve state.

Karen's thigh was placed on her friend's panty covered crotch, while her own crotch pressed against Mary's pelvic bone. It was a position discovered after long experimentation. Tentatively at first, then more forcefully, they ground their pleasure spots against their respective resisting surface. That is putting dryly. Of course, the subjects described here were soon far from dry. Each girl was soon moist, even sodden.

The first time this had occurred, both girls were embarrassed by their secretions. As time after time the same thing happened, they got accustomed to them. They came to expect them, even welcome them. The wetter they were, the more intense the pleasure.

Each girl wondered how much better it would feel to be naked in the other's arms. Shyness was one of the things that kept them silent about it. What they were doing felt enjoyable enough to prevent them from risking it for something that might be better. What if revealing the desire for flesh-on-flesh contact proved too much for the other? It could mean the end of these glorious sessions if the other took offense. That would be like the end of life itself.

The other thing that kept them mum was the feeling inside each girl that to be naked together would be wrong. Even clothed, each was left with a tinge of guilt about how good the rubbing, squeezing, and kissing felt. It was so good there must be something forbidden about it. They kept their sessions private and secret. No one knew about them, or so they believed.

Karen felt the dampness of her friend's knickers on her thigh. Mary's throaty noises of pleasure were getting louder. Even kissing her harder and deeper could not silence them. Finally, Karen pulled her head back and whispered, "Shhh, quiet, dear."

The girls were lost in the sensations of their love-making. Their nubbins of pleasure were swollen and stiff. Their juices flowed, soaking Mary's panties and Karen's bathing suit. Both of the girls climbed a mountain slope they felt would never end. But the summit beckoned them tantalizingly. What vistas would open to them at the top?

The pleasure was growing in intensity until it became terrifying. The girls reached the point neither had ever dared go beyond. They had been here before, almost to the precipice.

"Enough," Karen whispered. Mary nodded silently

Then they lingered there teasing, slowly, softly grinding against each other for what seemed like hours, but was only a couple of minutes. They came down from the high, sweating from the effort and the passion. They were happy, but somehow neither of them was truly satisfied. Each of them wondered what would have happened if they had kept on climbing a bit further.

The warmth of the cabin and the overwhelming comfort they felt together made sleep unavoidable. The girls slept deep, each one dreaming of desires they could not name. Karen dreamed of movie stars and bright lights. Mary dreamed of pirates. It was an exciting dream, but not an unpleasant one.

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Pappy Bones