Peace of Amiens - 11. Chapter 11

September 8, 1801

HMS Endymion

Weymouth, England

 

Granger sat in his office, dealing with the endless reports that were required of one of the Royal Navy’s captains. He was currently auditing the gunner’s stores, but it was difficult to concentrate. Granger was used to shipboard noises, but he was not used to chattering women. Based on how much they were talking now and how much they’d talked at dinner, Granger concluded that Signoras Bellini and Martello communicated more than most women. It seemed that with each word they spoke, his mood got worse. It was as if their voices were storming his ramparts, so Granger wisely opted for a hasty retreat. He stood up, smoothed out his uniform, and went up on deck.

“Good afternoon, my lord,” Kingsdale said pleasantly. He evidently had the watch, and his positive demeanor drove Granger’s residual bad mood from him.

“Good afternoon,” Granger responded. He saw Kingsdale start to tell one of the ship’s boys to let Austen know he was on deck, so Granger forestalled them. “If I require Mr. Austen’s presence, I will send for him.”

“Aye aye, my lord,” Kingsdale said, grinning.

Granger walked over to the rail and looked out over the water to Weymouth. He smiled when he saw a bathing machine enter the water, then frowned when it seemed to go a bit further out into the bay than was normal. Granger hoped that the occupant was a strong swimmer. He saw the door open, then a woman came out and got into the sea. Granger pulled out his glass and aimed it indecorously at the woman, only to discern that it was Princess Amelia. She had no sooner begun to bathe when she appeared to lose her footing. Granger stood there horrified, watching as the princess appeared to be in water much too deep for her and weighed down by her sodden bathing costume, such that she was struggling. Her attendant on the machine began to shout frantically, so Granger moved his glass to scan near the shore. He spotted Calvert, who had heard the alarm. Calvert tore off his jacket and his waistcoat, then kicked off his shoes as he ran gallantly into the water. Granger watched Calvert swim rapidly toward Amelia, even as her head dipped beneath the surface of the water. She was lucky Calvert was a strong swimmer. Granger held his breath until Calvert reached her, then watched as he held her head above the water and slowly began to swim with her back to the safety of the bathing machine. Granger watched as he helped her aboard and as she hugged Calvert. He fancied he could see the gratitude in her eyes, although it was probably more like hero worship at this point.

Granger decided that her worship was well deserved, because Calvert truly was a hero now. He had saved a Royal Princess from drowning. Granger had seen it clearly with his own eyes. If Calvert had not been there, it is likely Amelia would have perished. Granger began to pace the quarterdeck, wondering at what this would mean for Calvert’s career, and even more, what would it mean for his relationship with Amelia? A liaison with her would be fraught with danger for both of them, but especially for Calvert. Granger began to wonder if he and his family combined had enough influence to save Calvert from the King’s wrath if Calvert deflowered his favorite daughter.

Someone began walking next to him, so Granger mentally banished thoughts of Calvert before he engaged with this individual. When he got to the end of the deck and pivoted, he found himself eye-to-eye with Prince Genarro. “Are we in a race, Mr. Genarro?” Granger asked playfully, forcing himself to overcompensate for his internal moodiness.

“I fear that even if I could match your speed, sir, I could not begin to match your endurance,” Genarro said, making Granger chuckle. “I have just returned and was told you were asking for me.”

“I do not recall seeking you out, but I am glad you are here,” Granger said. “We have just welcomed Signora Bellini and her companion aboard. I am of a mind to take you below and introduce you to them.”

Genarro’s eyes shot open as he smiled broadly. “I have heard much about Signora Bellini, and have been most anxious to meet her,” he said.

“I suspect they will be happy to find someone else who speaks their language,” Granger noted. He led Genarro below to his cabin and found the ladies had opted to come out into the open area and were seated in the quarter gallery. They stood up when they noticed him. “Signora Bellini, please allow me to introduce His Highness the Prince of Genarro.”

He had expected them to start chattering all over again, but instead Carmella and Genarro just stared at each other in shock. While Granger was digesting that, the situation was transformed when a very animated discussion broke out between them, one that Signora Martello soon joined. It got more and more heated, to the point they were almost screaming at each other. Granger put his hand on Genarro’s shoulder, only to have him pull away rudely. Then the young man froze, realizing how out of line that gesture was. “I am sorry, sir.”

“Come with me,” Granger ordered, and led him out of the cabin and back up to the deck. “I was of a mind to continue our race.”

Genarro forced a smile. “I will try to keep up, sir.”

“I would be obliged if you would explain that encounter to me,” Granger said. “It was certainly not the reaction I expected.”

“The woman who calls herself Carmella was once known as Maria,” Genarro spat. “She lived on our estates. She was the first woman I loved.” His expression told of the heartache that still plagued him, and Granger felt sorry for his pain.

“I can understand why this would be upsetting for you,” Granger said supportively.

“She was first a serving girl, but her voice is so magnificent that my father hired instructors to help her hone her skills,” Genarro said bitterly. “I was learning to play the violin at the same time, so we began to practice together.”

“I did not know you played the violin,” Granger said, stunned. How had he missed that?

“I am adequate, sir,” Genarro said modestly. “We spent much time together, got closer, and ultimately fell in love.”

“That does not sound unusual for a young man and an attractive woman,” Granger observed.

“One day, I went to play violin and was told that she was not there,” Genarro said, and his expression changed to one of extreme sorrow. “She said nothing to anyone; she just vanished.”

“Do you have any idea why?” Granger asked.

“That is what the argument was about, sir,” Genarro said, smiling ruefully. “I demanded to know why she had left without a word, and asked how she could live with herself knowing how badly she had hurt me. She explained to me that I had no say in how she lived her life.”

“That hardly provides any useful information to anyone,” Granger said in a slightly admonishing way, to let Genarro know that while Granger sympathized with his situation, his conduct was unacceptable, as no one should be shouting at anyone in Granger’s cabin.

“It was stupid, and I am sorry, sir,” Genarro said. “I let my emotions overrule my brain.”

“As is often the case when you are 18,” Granger said just as they pivoted, and gave Genarro a supportive pat on the back as they began to walk again. “Did you know Signora Martello?”

“I did not, but she is quite protective of Signora Bellini, and she lashed out at me to defend Carmella,” Genarro said.

Winkler appeared in front of them. “My lord, Signora Bellini has asked to see you as soon as is convenient.”

“We will speak more later,” Granger said to Genarro, then headed toward the cabin.

Winkler waited until they were on the gun deck before he spoke again. “Signora Martello says that they are packing up and leaving, my lord. Signora Bellini seems quite distraught.”

“I will attempt to calm these two foreign women,” Granger said in annoyance.

“I think this will be one of your more difficult battles, begging your pardon, my lord,” Winkler said, being cheeky. Granger shook his head at his irrepressible chief steward, then entered his cabin.

Signora Martello rushed over to him. “My lord, we must leave this ship at once.”

“Why must you leave, and why is there so much urgency?” Granger asked. The two women began talking in Italian, and Granger opted to point out their rudeness. “I would ask you two to have the decency to conduct your discussions in English, French, or Spanish.”

Carmella looked at him, and Granger could feel the conflict within her. Their eyes met, and there was a connection between them that seemed to calm and reassure both of them. “My lord, I would speak with you alone.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Granger said, and led her into his office. Sophia made to comment, but a glare from Carmella shut her up.

“Let us speak Spanish, since Sophia does not understand that tongue,” she said in a conspiratorial way. It was interesting that as soon as they were alone, she dropped the obligatory ‘my lord’ from her sentences. Rather than be offended, Granger found it to be quite intimate.

“I am delighted to have the opportunity to refresh my memory of that beautiful language,” Granger said, switching to Spanish as well. “Won’t you have a seat?”

“With pleasure,” she said, and sat in one of his office chairs. Granger poured them both a glass, and handed her the drink as he took a seat next to her.

“I do not want you to leave the ship,” Granger said. “So let us start with that. Everything else we can work out.”

“That was Sophia’s big idea. She is worried about me,” she said. “I do not want to leave either.” Granger noted that wasn’t a firm pledge but accepted it as progress.

“Can you tell me why you were so upset when you saw the prince?” Granger asked. A tear fell down her cheek, so Granger wiped it away and then held her hand in a caring way.

“Sophia would not approve,” she said, glancing at his hand. Granger made to pull away from her, but she used her other hand to hold him in place. “I like it.”

“So do I,” Granger said. He was finding himself more confused about this than ever. On the one hand, he wanted to know what her issue with Genarro was, but at the same time, her flirtatiousness was inflaming his libido.

“When I was younger, I allowed my feelings for Rafael to cloud my mind,” she said. Granger looked at her curiously, and that made her laugh. “Rafael is Prince Genarro’s Christian name.”

“One would have thought I would have known that,” Granger said with a fake grumble.

“One would have thought,” she said, and batted her eyelashes as she teased him. “We learned music together, then we fell in love, then we let passion overrule us.”

“Rafael is a lucky man,” Granger said, his tone and expression punctuating his words with lust.

“He does not seem to think so,” she said. “I broke his heart, and he broke mine.”

“Why?”

“I became pregnant, or so I thought, and I did not want to be the village whore who had taken the virginity of the young prince,” she said bitterly. “I had saved some money, and as I am not unattractive, I was able to use those assets to get me to London.”

“I am sorry you had to endure such a journey,” Granger said. He could sense her sadness and shame over having to all but prostitute herself to get away from Sicily. “What happened to the baby?”

“Sophia is my friend, a very dear friend, and she left with me,” Carmella said. “She is the one who told me I was with child, but it turned out that she was wrong.”

“Was she wrong because she erred, or was she wrong intentionally?” Granger asked her. It was easy to visualize Sophia as being manipulative enough to convince Carmella that she was pregnant and that the best course of action was to leave the prince behind.

“I would like to think it was the former, but I am almost positive it was the latter,” Carmella said sadly. “She was jealous of my relationship with Rafael, and that was her motive to separate us.”

“I am not sure how to ask this question without offending you, so please be patient with me,” Granger said. She nodded. “How intimate is your relationship with Sophia?”

Her eyes shot open in horror, and she made to leave, but Granger used his hand to hold hers and keep her in place. “I need to leave,” she insisted.

“I am not going to judge you, not for what you had to do to get to London, nor for your relationship with Sophia,” Granger said. She shook her head and began to cry.

“You cannot mean that,” she said, and started sobbing. “You must hate me. It is unnatural. You English, especially, are so uptight and frigid about such liaisons.” Granger found her comment about his countrymen to be annoying, probably because she was right.

“Men can have similar relationships with each other,” Granger said to her, as he ran his hand across her damp cheek. She stared at him incredulously, then smiled.

“I am almost disappointed, as I had assumed you would be an excellent lover,” she flirted.

“I am a very skilled lover,” Granger said, grinning then laughing to hide how uncomfortable he was at trumpeting his sexual talents. “I am also very versatile. Women I have been with have not complained.”

“That is most interesting,” she said in a sultry way.

“I am wondering if you are as skilled as I am,” Granger said back, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

“Perhaps, someday, I will show you whether I am or not,” she said. And then, as if by magic, her internal shields went up and her eyes, which had been windows to her soul, were suddenly shuttered. As she made to stand up, Granger did as well.

“That will now be the top vision I see in my dreams,” he said flirtatiously, then got serious. “I would not want to interfere with your relationships with Sophia or Rafael.”

“Leave Sophia to me,” she said. “Rafael and I had a young love, but it is over. I will talk to him and explain things.”

“I am here to help if you need me,” Granger said, then leaned in to kiss her cheek in a very sensuous manner.

She looked down at his groin and smirked, which caused Granger to realize he had a very pronounced erection. She laughed as he hurriedly re-arranged it in his pants to hopefully hide his condition, while he glared at her, making her laugh even harder. Before he could say anything more, she opened the door and breezed out into the main cabin. “We are staying here,” she announced.

“We cannot do that,” Sophia argued in English.

“I am staying,” Carmella said firmly. “You can make your own choice.”

Sophia glared at her as her temper rose, but just before she could let loose with a powerful rant, Carmella put her hand on Granger’s arm. “My lord, can you escort me up to the deck? I fancy some fresh air.”

“With pleasure, signora,” Granger said, and did just that. They went up on deck and began to pace the quarterdeck slowly, and the weather was so nice it seemed like a promenade in the park.

“I heard you are estranged from your wife, my lord,” she said. Granger appreciated how she had slipped back into a more formal mode now that they were not alone.

“That has been my misfortune, signora,” Granger said. “I think my wife is irritated that she is not a man and thus cannot wield power as she would like, but unfortunately that manifested itself by her having a very public and humiliating affair.”

“You blamed yourself for that. You thought it was because she did not love you, that she did not want to be with you,” she accused.

“I feel as if you have jumped into my head and read my mind,” he said, smiling at her.

“It was not about sex or love; it was about power,” she stated firmly. “You said so yourself.” Granger had already figured that out, but was impressed that she could discern as much from their brief conversation.

“In any event, I was forced to publicly denounce her, and that pained me greatly, especially after the anger faded,” he said.

“It is hard to hurt those you love,” she said. “Perhaps now you can understand the pain I feel over how I treated Rafael.”

“I can,” Granger agreed. “There were a number of things she did that forced my hand, and I had little choice in the matter, but it was unpleasant nonetheless.”

She squeezed his arm in an affectionate way. “The more I talk to you, the more I like you.”

“That is surprising,” Granger said, flirting. “It is also very good news. And why is it that you, a beautiful woman, perhaps the most desirable in England, does not have a beau.”

“You mean why have I not succumbed and become a kept woman?” she asked archly. “Why am I stuck riding in a dilapidated carriage with only one maid and two footmen? Why are my lodgings in a less than desirable part of town?”

“That was on my mind,” Granger said playfully.

“I have had offers, and they have been tempting, but I am unwilling to be the mistress of a man I do not like,” she said firmly. He nodded, and that seemed to irritate her. “I am not naïve. I know that as an opera singer, as a performer, I cannot hope for an illustrious marriage. I know that being well-kept is the best I can hope for.”

“Sadly, that is how our society functions,” Granger said, to confirm her understanding that marriage with him wasn’t an option. “Marriage is largely a property arrangement, so if that is worked out, I cannot see where swearing to formal banns would be such a huge benefit.”

“You are correct,” she said. “And that is what I must ultimately do. But I will not saddle myself with some miserable creature just so I can have a posh townhouse, nicer clothes, and a well-sprung carriage.”

Granger laughed. “I think that is a wise approach.”

“I sensed when you wrote to me that you were looking for a person just like me,” she said, just as they reached the end of the deck and pivoted. He gazed into her eyes and was amazed again at their visual bond.

“If that was the case, I am surprised you did not immediately accept my offer and drive down to Weymouth with indecent speed,” Granger joked.

“I did not want to appear too easy,” she said. “I think it is smarter to make a man work harder for my attentions.”

“You are truly wise for someone who is so young,” Granger said. “So what must I do to win you over?”

“Ah, but that is too simple,” she said coquettishly. “I will leave it to you to figure out.”

“I am worried that, as I try to do that, I will be too slow or I will make mistakes, and you will find another beau who satisfies you in the interim,” Granger replied.

“I am not that fickle, but I do not have unlimited patience,” she teased, making him laugh. Prince Genarro came up on deck, looked at them, and froze. “If you will permit me, my lord, I would like to converse with Rafael.”

“By all means,” Granger said. She walked over to Genarro, and then led him over to the rail, facing not Weymouth, but out to sea. Granger caught himself glancing at them, and that would never do. He removed himself from the situation by going below and dashing off a quick note to Princess Amelia, congratulating her on her narrow escape from drowning and hoping that she was recovering from the ordeal. He also penned a brief communique to Calvert to tell him warmly what a hero he was. He emerged from his office to find Winkler bustling around. “Please seal these up and have them dispatched ashore as soon as possible,” he ordered.

“Right away, my lord,” Winkler said as he took the two envelopes.

Granger went back up on deck and found that nothing had changed, and that everyone was trying not to look at Genarro and Carmella while obviously doing so. He suddenly felt guilty and inefficient for not making sure they were ready for the King tomorrow, and opted to use that as an excuse to distract everyone. “Mr. Austen, let us review the plans to welcome His Majesty tomorrow.”

“Of course, my lord,” Austen said. Granger engrossed himself with his officers and Winkler, reviewing their plans, strenuously avoiding glancing over at Genarro and Carmella. When he had finished with Winkler, he dismissed him to go below and then continued his discussion with Austen and the rest of the assembled staff.

Winkler finally returned and attracted his attention. “My lord, supper is ready.”

“Quite so,” Granger said, and strode over to the rail where Genarro and Carmella had continued to converse. “I am sorry to interrupt you, but supper is ready.”

“Of course,” Carmella said, then her eyes met Granger’s who surreptitiously glanced at Genarro. Carmella understood that Granger was asking her if he should include Genarro, and a subtle nod from her confirmed that he should. It was amazing how effectively they had communicated with only the slightest of gestures.

“I would be pleased if you would join us,” Granger said to Genarro.

“Thank you, sir,” Genarro replied happily, then Granger led them below to his cabin.

Granger played the good host, pouring them drinks and then guiding them to their seats. Granger sat opposite Carmella at the ends of the table, while Sophia and Genarro sat to either side of him. As the staff came out with food, Sophia started speaking angrily to Carmella, in Italian. “Signora Martello, I will remind you once more that I consider it to be the height of rudeness for you to speak in a language I cannot understand at my table,” Granger said firmly. He saw Genarro almost gasp, because he had never seen Granger admonish someone so severely at a meal. But while Granger was normally very polite, he deduced that he would have to deal with Sophia firmly or she would sabotage any relationship he developed with Carmella.

“It was a personal matter, my lord, and that is why I spoke in Italian,” Sophia said defiantly.

“If it is a personal matter, then it is not fit for discussion at this table,” Granger said, relenting not a bit. “If you cannot abide by that simple rule, I must ask you to take your meal in your cabin.”

“I will do my best, my lord,” Sophia replied, in almost a mocking way. Granger looked at Carmella, trying to read her thoughts, but her eyes were intentionally shielded.

“You may remain here as long as you achieve that goal,” Granger said.

“My lord, I have a question for you,” Carmella said, conveniently changing the subject. Granger gave her an inquiring look, asking her to go on. “If you were to take a mistress, is there any one person who could voice an objection such that you would end the affair?”

Sophia’s eyes bulged, while Genarro snickered. “There are two,” Granger said. “The first would be my children, collectively. If the person I was with was not good with them, I do not think the relationship would survive.” Granger almost chuckled as he saw Winkler in the corner, supervising the stewards while pretending not to listen to his conversation.

“That is most unusual, is it not, sir?” Genarro asked. “I was under the impression that most people left their children in the care of nurses or tutors, and then sent them off to boarding schools.”

“It is unusual, but I find it very rewarding. As my eldest son, William, is only eight years old, they are young, but very dear to me,” Granger said. “I am perhaps more upset about this because my wife was planning to ship William off to Eton a year earlier than would have been best for him, only because he had commented on her affair.”

“He is loyal to you, and you are loyal to him,” Carmella concluded.

“Yes,” Granger agreed, and suddenly felt the agony of separation from his offspring.

“You said there were two,” she prompted.

“Winkler,” Granger answered. “If I had someone with whom I was intimate and that person did not get along with Winkler, that would almost make a relationship impossible.”

“I am surprised, my lord,” she said. “I would have thought you would have mentioned a close friend, perhaps a fellow peer?”

“Winkler in his official role is my chief steward, or when we are ashore he is my chief valet, but he is also a friend, the best friend I have,” Granger said sincerely. There was noise from over in the corner, where Winkler was so touched he was actually crying. They all stopped eating and stared at him.

“I beg your pardon, my lord,” Winkler said horrified. Granger burst out laughing, as did Sophia, Carmella, and Genarro. The stewards were trying to hide their snickers. “I’m very fond of you too, my lord.” He became so embarrassed he all but ran from the cabin.

“I can see why you would so treasure his friendship,” Carmella said. “He is such a sweet young man.”

“I will tell him you said that,” Granger replied, thinking of how much fun it would be to tease Winkler about being a sweet, young man. “Allow me to put the same question to you.”

“You are asking me if I were having an affair, is there a person who could voice an objection such that I would sever the relationship?” she asked.

“That is the answer that I seek,” Granger said playfully, making Carmella and Genarro chuckle. Sophia said nothing, she just stared at Carmella intently.

“There used to be, but not anymore,” Carmella said, staring straight at Sophia.

At that, Sophia was unable to restrain herself, and belted out streams of Italian at Carmella. Granger rose up in a commanding way, but before he said anything, Sophia stood up and fled to their cabins. “I take it she did not like your answer?” Granger asked.

“She did not,” Carmella said. Granger locked eyes with her and he could feel her sadness, and perhaps some relief, then she looked away.

“This food is wonderful, my lord,” Genarro said, deftly refocusing attention on their dinner.

“I cannot agree more,” Carmella said.

“Perhaps there is a third person,” Granger said, and chuckled. “My chef, Lefavre, is also very devoted to me.”

“And you are to him, my lord,” Genarro said.

“I am,” Granger said. Dinner conversation after that was very pleasant, and they all drank excessively, seemingly to excise the unpleasant first part of their supper.

“I must leave you gentlemen and go check on Sophia,” Carmella said. Granger and Genarro stood up with her, and watched as she staggered to her cabin, even the gentle motion in the harbor too much for her drunken mind.

“Join me,” Granger said to Genarro, and led him over to the leather chairs in his gallery.

“With pleasure, sir,” Genarro said, slurring a bit.

“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to enlighten me about their conversation,” Granger said.

“I would be happy to,” Genarro said. He seemed to realize that seated here in this casual environment, formalities should be dropped. Granger was impressed with how well he was blossoming as an officer and a man, such that he picked up skillfully on such niceties. “Sophia was upset with Carmella for betraying her, for not being a good partner, and for throwing herself at you as if she were a common whore.”

“Those were most unpleasant observations,” Granger said, making both of them chuckle. He was suddenly even more aware of how drunk he was.

“They appear to have a relationship that is more common on Lesbos,” Genarro said.

“As I recall, you were quite shocked by unnatural relationships,” Granger teased, referring to the time that Genarro had caught Daventry’s servants, Boles and McGillivray, fucking in the midshipmen’s berth aboard Valiant.

“Surprised may be a better description than shocked,” Genarro said. “I can see how one could succumb to such temptations.”

“Does that mean you could succumb to such temptations?” Granger asked, only now the playful tone was gone, and was replaced by one of lust.

“I think that it is possible, but I could not be Boles; I could only be McGillivray,” he said. He was telling Granger that he would top, but not bottom.

“There is a convenient coincidence in your comment,” Granger said, although it was probably quite slurred.

“And what is that?” Genarro asked, his voice sounding incredibly sensual.

“I can fulfill Boles’ role quite capably,” Granger said. Genarro stood up, his pants tenting out to reveal he was well endowed, while Granger’s were just as enlarged.

“Show me how capable you are,” Genarro said in his sexy way. They entered Granger’s cabin, then their lips met, and their clothes began to fall off. Their drunken groping and kissing ultimately led them to Granger’s cot, where Granger lay on his back with his ass lined up to the edge. Genarro pulled out his own dick, which was not very long but was very thick. Granger handed him some lanolin, Genarro lubed them up, then holding Granger’s legs up, he slowly began to enter Granger. “So good,” he cooed, then he came. He got a look of extreme alarm. “I am sorry. That happens sometimes. If you will allow me to remain just like this, I will recover quickly and then I will last much longer.”

“I am quite comfortable just like this,” Granger said. He used this break in their lovemaking to admire Genarro’s physique, to trace his pectoral muscles with his fingers, to let his fingers fall lower to the young prince’s tight abdomen.

Granger smiled as he felt Genarro fully hardening again. “You see, it was not long at all.” Genarro began to fuck him again, getting them into a nice rhythm.

“Ahh,” Granger heard himself moan. He flung his head back and forth in ecstasy until his eyes focused on the door, where a shadow was being cast. It suddenly dawned on Granger’s drunken and lust-crazed mind that someone had entered his cabin. He motioned for Genarro to stop, and with amazing restraint he did, and they both stared at Carmella, who was watching them.

“I think this is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen,” she said, as she walked up to them. Genarro smiled and started to fuck Granger again, while Carmella let the robe she was wearing slip off, exposing her beautiful body.

She knelt over Granger, absorbing him effortlessly into her dripping pussy, while she made out with Genarro. The double stimulation was incredibly erotic, but so were the emotions Granger felt. It was if Genarro and Carmella were making love to each other, while he was their vessel, the recipient of all their sexual energy. Carmella leaned toward him, arching her back, then moved her head to the side so she could kiss him. Their oral connection was magical, and that blew out all of Granger’s controls. He growled loudly, then clamped down on her mouth as he ejaculated. It was as if there were a storm as big as he had encountered near Cape Horn with massive waves pulsing through his body, only these were waves of pleasure.

He broke off their kiss and panted, trying to catch his breath. She pivoted over, letting Granger’s cock slip out of her, so she was lying on top of Granger; Genarro took the hint and pulled out of Granger then plunged into Carmella. While Genarro fucked her, Granger kissed her and explored her body with his hands. It was to last much shorter than Granger hoped, as first Genarro, then Carmella, reached their own orgasms, but all three of them wore huge smiles.