CHAPTER FORTY-NINE:  

THE SAILORS' SOIREE, PART ONE

	Christine examined herself in the full-length 
mirror that comprised the closet door of the hotel 
suite's bedroom, wondering whether the tight, beige 
slacks and floral bikini top she'd just changed into 
were appropriate.  Jonah had told her to dress very 
casually for the party in Montego Bay that evening.  
"Don't wear anything you wouldn't mind getting beer 
spilled on" had been his exact words.  He had warned her 
that this gathering was virtually certain to become 
rowdy, raunchy, rude, and riotous.  The recurrent 
party's guests, mostly select crewmembers from the Carib 
Mermaid and whatever other cruise ships happen to be in 
port at the time, with some local ladies thrown in for 
good measure, usually didn't consider the bash a success 
unless several arrests for disturbing the peace and/or 
lewd and lascivious behavior were involved.  Ever the 
gentleman, Jonah had described in painstaking detail the 
highlights of the last such party he had been to, 
roughly four months earlier, so as to give Chris an idea 
of what she would be agreeing to if she accepted his 
invitation.  However, he had done so while they had been 
furiously copulating in a jacuzzi, and so Chris was 
fuzzy on most of the details, but she seemed to remember 
him saying something about a woman who had a unique 
method for turning bananas into projectiles, and 
something else about a German shepherd, or was it a 
German purser?
	It sounded positively decadent, like something 
that was custom-made for the sexual explorer that the 
hormonal stew that constantly raged, albeit under tight 
control, through Chris's bloodstream as a result of The 
Accident had awakened within her.  She was fairly 
certain that Jonah would not have invited her had she 
not inadvertently demonstrated her ejaculatory and 
lactation talents to him while she thought she was alone 
on the Mermaid's forward observation deck.  Something 
told her that the women at this party would all be there 
because of some special sexual gift they possessed.  
This intrigued and excited her to the point that she was 
able to dismiss less intense feelings of exploitation 
that threatened to ruin the sexual charge she felt 
building up inside her.  She took another look in the 
mirror.  Yes, the slacks were tight enough to 
brilliantly accentuate her beautifully rounded ass; the 
bikini top cupped just enough of her incomparable 
breasts to tease but not give too much away.  She 
retrieved a thin jacket from the closet to protect 
against the cool night breeze and was ready to go.  Just 
before leaving the suite she visited the bathroom long 
enough to don a maxi-pad, since she had already started 
to moisten in anticipation and didn't want to stain her 
slacks with her liquid desire too prematurely.  She 
remembered when she'd bought those pads for a different 
reason.  She now used them exclusively to wick up her 
copious pussy juice; she still had not resumed 
menstruating.
	She took a particular glee in the looks she got as 
she walked briskly through the lobby, her jacket open, 
her considerable cleavage flashing into and out of view 
as she moved.  Here I am in a place with more centerfold 
types per square foot than anywhere except maybe 
"Baywatch", and I can still turn heads, she thought with 
satisfaction.
	Outside the hotel she immediately began scanning 
the parking area for the yellow taxi she had reserved an 
hour before.  She was mildly angry when she didn't see 
one and was getting ready to go back into the lobby to 
phone the cab company again when a loud beep turned her 
around.  The window of a green taxi rolled down and 
Jonah Ballwin's winning smile appeared in it.
	"I sent your taxi away," he explained as Chris 
trotted toward the car.  "I wanted to make sure you were 
taken directly to the party and not on some wild goose 
chase.  Hop in."  He opened the door from the inside and 
Chris plopped onto the seat, her bosom jiggling slightly 
as she did so.  Jonah, of course, noticed instantly.  
"Good Lord, you look fabulous," he said with genuine 
admiration, tinged with lust.  "You'll be the hit of the 
party."
	The taxi roared off as soon as the door was 
closed, pitching Chris backward, directly into Jonah's 
arms.  The driver glanced into the rear view mirror and 
cackled at the result of his handiwork.  "Sorry, mon," 
he said.
	"No you're not, not in the slightest," Jonah 
replied.  "Chris, this is Edward, an acquaintance of 
mine.  Although he drives like a maniac, we actually 
couldn't be in better hands."  Chris smiled a greeting, 
which Edward returned in the mirror.  She then turned to 
Jonah, taking his hands in hers.
	"I really am looking forward to this," Chris said, 
somewhat breathlessly.  Jonah looked particularly 
delicious in his khakis and a muscle-enhancing polo 
shirt -- a decidedly different look from the uniform she 
was used to seeing him in.  "In fact, I'm a little 
surprised at myself as to how much.  Even though I'm a 
lot braver these days about such things as a result of 
all the changes I've been through, I have to confess to 
being a little apprehensive about what might happen 
tonight.  Promise me you'll never be far away."  She 
squeezed his hand tightly.
	Edward answered for him.  "Don't you worry, pretty 
lady," he boomed.  "My man Jonah is a gentleman of the 
old school.  He'd never let any harm come to one as 
lovely as yourself.  But if by some chance Jonah fall 
down on the job, ol' Edward, he'll be around."
	"You're coming to the party too?" Chris asked.
	This time Jonah answered.  "Edward is one of this 
particular gathering's 'founding fathers', so to speak.  
He's the designated driver, in fact.  Rumor has it he's 
had more fun with the guests in his cab than they did at 
the party!"
	"Hold your tongue, Jonah!" Edward said, laughing.  
"Ol' Edward, he don't want all his secrets told right 
away!"
	"Well, Chris, I certainly understand your 
apprehension," Jonah said, turning his attention back to 
her.  "Since a great deal of my job involves helping 
people relax, I was fortunately able to anticipate your 
nervousness and take the appropriate countermeasures."
	"You're starting to talk like a naval officer 
again," Chris chided as Jonah reached beneath the seat 
and extracted a large thermos and two glasses.  Before 
Chris could say "margarita," Jonah presented her with a 
large one, complete with salt around the rim of the 
glass.  "Ah, but this is more like the second officer of 
a pleasure ship," she said as she sipped.
	The ride from Negril back to Montego Bay was a 
long one.  The three people in the taxi chatted amiably 
as the kilometers passed.  Chris did not notice that 
Jonah was very careful to keep her glass full, and as a 
result she imbibed more than she thought she was.  As 
her comfort level increased, Chris related the story of 
her trip to the hotel and her first contact with some of 
her fellow vacationers.  Edward's eyes widened as Chris 
laughingly talked about her various milky emissions 
during those episodes.  A look passed between him and 
Jonah that Chris didn't catch, but which nonverbally 
said something like "This may be your best yet."
	As they approached Montego Bay, Chris began to 
notice that she felt a lot more "comfortable" than she 
should be after only a couple of margaritas.  She 
recognized the sensation -- one of total calm rather 
than intoxication.  It was just like when she had gone 
to an oral surgeon to have her wisdom teeth removed.  He 
had shot her so full of intravenous Valium that a 
supernova could have gone off right in front of her and 
she wouldn't have given a damn.  She suddenly realized 
that the drinks had been spiked; she had been 
tranquilized.  That son of a bitch, she thought.  I said 
I needed to relax, but I didn't need to be sedated!  
Look at him -- he hasn't taken a single sip, the 
bastard!  Well, I feel too damn good to be pissed off, 
but that's it for Captain Ballwin here.
	Chris smiled at how easy her decision to dump 
Jonah at her earliest opportunity had been.  By drugging 
her and thereby squelching any complicated emotional 
internal struggle over her feelings for him that she 
might ordinarily feel while considering a decision of 
this type, Jonah had unwittingly hastened his own 
dismissal.  Still, Chris needed him to get into and out 
of this party, so she decided to keep him around until 
the end of the evening..
	This second decision had come at a most propitious 
moment, for just then Edward turned the cab down a 
poorly lit Montego Bay side street to park in front of a 
small restaurant whose partially burnt-out neon sign 
read simply, "CAFE".
	"We have arrived," Edward said needlessly.
	Gird your grid, girl, Chris said to herself.  
Feeling like I do now, I'm ready for anything.  Now I 
know why Valium is so popular.