Birds sang outside, the balcony doors were thrown open. Dianne walked onto it, wearing nothing but the pendant that had been presented to her so long ago, it seemed, and with so much promise: the black pearl pendant she swore she would only put on when she was naked. She was alone in the sumptuous room where she had spent the night. Where was Brian? She had slept, exhausted, after taking what Brian and Boris called her 'physical vow', promising her body to Brian in front of all his friends, here, in this beautiful Las Palmas mansion. It was huge, private, on an estate of tropical gardens that stretched as far as she could see, right to the deep red sands of a tight bay. He had not joined her in the big bed. She so desperately wanted him to consummate their union, but he had not appeared, and here she was now, alone and lonely, wanting and wondering, like before. Was it always to be like this? She turned her head when the door opened, and entered the room to see who it was. 'Brian!' 'Did you rest well?' She nodded. Had he not noticed she was naked, ready, yearning? 'But I wanted you here! I thought we would...' 'We will. We certainly will.' She drew close to him. 'We've wanted this so long. Why aren't we...?' 'After breakfast,' he said, his smile suggestive and his eyes seeking hers, 'I am taking you away on a boat, where we shall sail for a while along the coast.' She nodded, knowing she had promised she would do as he bade, always. The 'boat' was a beautiful white schooner with cream sails and highly polished timbers and brass. They boarded from a private jetty, with staff bringing on their cases. Dianne's valise was small: she did not have much to bring along. Brian instructed the crew to cast off as soon as their feet touched the deck. There was a crew of four, all male, all bronzed, anonymous and silent. Dianne gasped when she saw the stateroom: it was furnished luxuriously, with a massive bed in the center, occupying nearly all the forward space below decks. She turned to look at Brian, who, in his striped sailing sweater and white pants, looked eager and excited about the trip. 'We'll have a great time, you'll see.' He took her in his arms and kissed her. 'Your dreams are all starting to come true now.' His hands wandered all over her body, grasping now a buttock, now a breast, smoothing her flanks through her clothes and stroking her neck and arms. His hands cupped her chin and his mouth covered hers for a long time, his tongue demanding and hot, making her swoon with pleasure. 'Did you bring a swimming suit?' Dianne nodded. 'I want to see you put it on.' She did so, loving the feel of his eyes on her as she disrobed, pulling her jeans down, stripping completely and then seeking the swimming costume in her case. It was the white gauze one-piece she had used at Boris's place: the one that covered her modestly from neck to thigh. With practiced hands, she scooped her hair up into a loose knot and stood before Brian. 'I'm ready.' 'Yes.' He took a squeeze-pack of lotion and started to sleek it onto her arms and back, to protect her from the sun. His hands wrought magic on her skin, and she groaned with delight. Although he had not touched her while she changed, she could see his eyes filling with lust, and knew he would take possession of her before long. She was learning to wait, wondering what was in store for her. Her time of celibacy was over, and she needed to be taken. 'I need...' she started, her eyes trying to meet Brian's. He smiled. 'I know what you need, and I will give it to you... many many times. Soon.' They lay in the sun on lounges on deck, a large hat and glasses shading Dianne's face. Brian looked through binoculars at the coast, directing his men to sail closer to the shore. When they were cruising within sight of a bank of cliffs, Brian stood and stripped off. Dianne almost gasped aloud to see his nakedness after such a long time. He was evenly tanned all over, his tight butt muscled and firm. She watched as his balls and cock moved when he shifted away and held onto a taut rope. Of course could she not take her eyes off him: he was a picture of manliness, and he was hers. He was delighting in her eyes on him, and it was exciting him. Tumescence was starting, slowly but surely, and if she did not avert her eyes soon, his full erection would be plainly visible, right there and then. She did not take her eyes away. She could not. Transfixed, fascinated, she watched as his penis grew in the bright sunlight, getting tight and long, curving upward and outward proudly. Brian stood there, naked, looking out to sea, ignoring his crew and Dianne, simply enjoying the motion of the schooner. Dianne looked at him, her eyes glued to his body. She took pleasure in his arousal, but did not move, knowing he was fully aware of her eyes on him. His left hand descended, and he cupped his scrotum, stroking slightly, feeling himself tighten and grow. He glanced once at her, without a smile, and she could see his pleasure in being naked and watched by her while she was still fully covered by her suit, hat and glasses. The contrast was very erotic. She reveled in it. He moved towards her, and when he was close enough, Dianne raised a hand and touched his sex, languorously, stroking him slowly. Her fist closed around his shaft, and she closed her eyes. They remained that way for some time, the motion of the boat moving her arm slightly for her, giving Brian the tiny sensations of motion she knew he loved. She did not rise, hardly looked at his face: her sole attention was for his loins. Both her hands set about stroking him, so gently as to keep him on a plateau of arousal he could sustain for over an hour. He moved closer, so she rose to a sitting position on the lounge and her tongue snaked out, glimmering in the sunlight, stroking the tip of his penis that was starting to bare as his foreskin rolled back, helped by her fingers. In an instant, his length and width was inside her mouth, and she was playing with him, expertly, using her tongue and lips eagerly, as she had wanted to for so long. Brian could not help groaning. He allowed her to give him head for some minutes, then gently pushed back and walked away. She rose to follow. He made his way forward, where the prow of the schooner was forming its white wake. He leaned against the prow rail and held Dianne by the waist, his arm feeling the brush of the gauze swimming suit. 'The men will let out a net, and we can wet ourselves in it. It's fun,' he whispered in her ear. The net was let down by the side, and they slid into the water, towed along by the smooth cruise of the boat. Dianne's costume turned transparent the moment it became wet. 'Oh!' exclaimed Brian. 'That's very sexy.' He looked candidly at her breasts and mound, whose now visible attraction pushed against the wet fabric teasingly. 'I thought I was going to be the only naked person on board today.' 'You still are,' she breathed, exhilarated by the waves as they were pulled along, and by the blatant sexual mood they were in. 'That thing doesn't cover up much when it's wet.' It was true. She was as good as naked. He touched her pubic mound suggestively, his fingers raking the fabric and skin together. She grasped his cock in both hands, and like that, they flowed along beside the schooner, held safe by the taut net and noticing the head of one of the crew looking over the side every now and then, to make sure they were safe. It was the captain, recognizable from his deep tan and long hair tied back in a buccaneer's ponytail. Back on deck, breathless and wet, Brian smoothed his hands over her. 'Keep it on. Keep it on,' he begged. He pulled the back of the costume up to reveal a bit more of her buttocks, and kissed her lips, biting the bottom one until it swelled a little. 'When you are dry, it will be exciting to...' he did not continue, since his mouth was busy teasing her earlobes and making her tremble with desire. The costume dried quickly, and she was once more modest beside his naked body. His erection did not subside. Handing her a fluted glass of champagne, he tipped a little of his drink down her front, the wetness revealing one nipple immediately. 'I'm sorry!' he lied, and proceeded to suck the fabric, taking her dark knob along into his mouth. 'I think it's time we went below.' He scooped her up and carried her down the companionway, heaving her onto the massive bed. Dianne lay on her side and reached up for his sex, grasping him and mouthing her urgency to him. Her tongue stroked him so hard he was groaning in seconds. He made love to her in her dry gauze swimming costume, pulling the fabric aside to enter her, grasping and pulling at her breasts through it. He lunged when the tip of his penis finally found the moist entry to the center of her, the core of her. His eagerness and thrusting were such that she instantly felt the collision of his cock and her cervix and it rocked her. 'Arrgh!' Her sigh filled the cabin. She had waited an eternity for this, and finally it was here. She opened to him, allowing - demanding - his entry. She bucked and squirmed to excite him, making herself so high in the process she lost inhibition and screamed her delight openly. She tore at her costume, ripping it wide open, pulling handfuls of gauze away desperately while she threw her legs wide apart. Open and wet, welcomingly wet, she pulled Brian inside her forcefully. Over and over, he thrust and pulled back, but she did not pause to wonder at his ability to stave off orgasm. He must have been at bursting point, but with will and plenty of power, he banged into her, and she sighed at the violent thrusts that had her widen even more. 'How long have we waited?' he sighed. 'This is heaven.' He too ripped at the vestiges of fabric that still clung to her perspiring body until she was absolutely naked for him. He retreated, his penis springing back with a life of its own, damp and glistening in the sunlight that streaked into the cabin from six portholes. 'This is heaven,' he repeated. He stretched both of his hands on her vulva, on either side, pulling her apart, his eager eyes tunneling inside her, his tongue ready to assault not only her tender skin but also her senses. A feeling of lightheadedness assailed Dianne. She had to remember not to hyperventilate, or she would faint away and miss an instant of this height of pleasure. She wanted this to go on for as long as they could make it last. She breathed slowly, but it was with some effort. 'Oh Brian...' 'Hush. Turn over.' He grasped her by both ankles and flipped her over onto her stomach, caressing her buttocks, pinching and squeezing until she whined. His thumbs separated the tanned mounds and his tongue found its goal. She relented, and loosened every muscle in her body, flopping down like a ragdoll, surrendering to the sensations that were so powerful she trembled all over. His tongue wreaked magic on her, and she was as wet as she had ever been. Suddenly, the length of his penis entered her vagina swiftly, from behind, impaling her without notice in one smooth movement. She gasped, then cried out loudly as he started once more to thrust, losing control and shuddering back and forth demoniacally. His voice bellowed in the cabin. Could they be heard on deck? It really did not matter. Dianne welcomed the banging thrusts, then felt his hot hand travel round her hip and find her clitoris. Gently, he prised the flesh apart and pinched her button rhythmically, keeping time with his thrusting. It was unbearable. She whined and squealed until she was breathless and could not utter a single whimper because of her short breath. She was coming. She was there. Inside Dianne, an unbearable sensation of speed and height, a screaming of orgasmic power was unleashed and her hips heaved of their own accord. Cervix and ovaries thrummed together: she felt them, together and individually in a rise of power that was so recognizable, so strong and welcome that she knew nothing else. She no longer remembered the words for coming, for orgasm. She was those words. Her whole body took off, and she was powerless to stop it moving or thrashing. Not that she would want to! Her frame trembled in paroxysms of pleasure, and she entered a phase of such extreme delight it bordered on unconsciousness. Brian had withdrawn his soft cock but the sensations inside her went on. Both his thumbs were inside her, active and fast. Then there was something else, something hard and cold and long, but she was too transported to care what - or from where it came. She pushed against it, desiring the orgasm to go on and on. The phallus was pummeled inside her repeatedly, and she screamed. It was warming to her body, growing as hot as she was inside. Then it was gone, and she felt the cold sensation of a series of spheres being pushed inside her. The gold beads! The gold threaded beads with the tassel at the end. This is what they were for. She opened up, and allowed her face to be pushed hard into the bed coverlet while Brian sleeked the round gold balls inside her. Then he was lying beside her, turning her onto her back, fondling her breasts and sucking hard. 'Stop,' she pleaded, exhausted. 'No - you can come again. And again.' It was true. When his fingers found her clit again she was still lavishly moist, and gush after gush followed when Brian pulled on each nipple in turn, his fingers strumming her inner lips so delicately she came close to fainting again. Inside, the urgency grew once more and a swelling announced the next orgasmic wave. Her cries of pleasure filled the stateroom. Again and again, she screamed, her hips plunging and heaving. 'Oh... oh -' There was a new kind of feeling inside. A vibration that was as forceful as it was gentle. As strong as it was subtle. It was the golden balls - the two largest ones were vibrating strongly, a clashing feeling that jarred inside her, taking her to such an ecstatic phase she was lost to the world. Brian watched her throes of passion, her eyes rolled and her slack mouth announced every intimate feeling aloud. She was out of control, a shaking mass that was perfect orgasm. He delighted in her extreme state, starting to pull on the tassel that held the string of metal sex balls. Dianne moaned, then started a long soft shaking growl that he had never heard before. He pulled some more and she started to grind her hips involuntarily. The cries she made were rhythmic, waif-like and demanding. Watching her, he restarted his arousal and nursed, with manual help, another fresh tumescence that longed to fill her once more. But her vagina was full of gold. Impatiently, he tugged at the tassel. It was tumultuous. Dianne's eyes rolled, her scream was so loud, her trembling so urgent, that he would be forgiven for thinking he had caused her some harm. But it was pleasure: nothing less than extreme ecstasy that gripped her and took away all that was left of her control. The tugged balls produced such an effect Dianne felt as if she was turned inside out. The balls were gone. Before she could even gasp, Brian's penis took their place and stayed there, slowly moving. He brought the tempo right down, held her, and she finally took a rasping breath. 'My god,' she whispered. 'Hush.' He moved imperceptibly and she whined again. Her eyes closed and she felt him inside her. She protected her breasts, a palm on each nipple, and rocked slowly with him. 'My god. What was that?' 'Without doubt the strongest string of climaxes I have ever witnessed,' he said with admiration. 'Now hush - you are totally exhausted.' There was no answer. She rocked to his rhythm, kissed his mouth, and reached a plane with him from where he too could come again. It really was heaven. The schooner was cruising slowly along the island coast, and Dianne took in cliffs and bays, promontories and shingled beaches. Beautiful mansions were visible from the boat, some partially hidden by tropical foliage and small hills. It was a magnificent place, and she was enjoying herself. The tactful crew kept out of the way, and she and Brian had the privacy they needed for extended lovemaking below or above decks, in sunlight or darkness. He insisted on her going naked a lot of the time, admiring the way her body moved to the motion of the elegant craft. She watched the sails going up, the crew working. She watched sunsets and dawns. Did she get any sleep at all? Brian saw to it she got rest: he fed her morsels of delicious food, made her sip mountain spring water. He sleeked her body with protective creams and lotions, and made her feel cared for. She slept briefly in the massive bed under the front deck, tousled and damp from sex. He did not allow her much time to herself, but she was grateful for his attentions. She needed to feel - at last - that she was meaningful to him: that he liked to be with her. 'Put this on,' he said casually. It was one of his sailing shirts. Dianne laughed and pulled on the yellow shirt, with its open collar and rubber buttons. It fell to just above her hips. 'Shall I wear your shorts too?' He shook his head. 'The crew will love to see your nude hips and bare mound. They have had three days of you completely naked. I want you to titillate them' Dianne had hardly considered the crew. They had faded into the nautical background. Had they watched her? She thought how she and Brian had frolicked naked in the net they let down the side, dragging them in the waves and spume the boat kicked up in its path. She had climbed a rope ladder back on board - several times - and had taken a steadying hand that reached out to help her. She had not given it a moment's thought. That was how comfortable she felt to be naked, in the company of Brian and four anonymous sailors. Now, no longer stark naked, but with a shirt hiding part of her torso, she felt suddenly vulnerable and strangely sexy. She climbed the companionway to the deck, where bright sunlight made the sea look flat and white. Leaning over the side, she took in her surroundings. Brian came up behind her. 'Perfect - a beautiful smooth butt. You are incredibly enticing.' His fingers stroked the crack between her buttocks, slowly. 'I am the envy of these men, you know?' 'Surely they don't watch us?' 'They're only human.' She spent the rest of the morning roaming and lounging around in the yachting shirt, conscious - oh so conscious - of her naked lower parts. The sensation was arousing and exciting, and she delighted in the sideways glances she now knew she was getting every time she walked on deck. The captain was the most discreet. His eyes never met hers. She noticed the straight serious line of his mouth, his stern eyes. 'Why is the captain so sulky?' she asked. Brian smiled. 'He's not merely a hired hand, you know.' 'Who is he?' Brian frowned at her curiosity. Was he jealous? His eyes combed the section of coast they were passing. 'His family are large landholders. We went to college together one year in Boston. I have great regard for his business acumen.' 'Then why is he acting like hired help and taking us round the coast?' 'Rex owns a fleet of magnificent craft - and I have always known he's an admirable sailor. He once promised me a coast cruise of Las Palmas... and I took him up on it.' Rex, thought Dianne. Perhaps Rex, sulky Rex, was being forced into the role of voyeur against his will. She knew she would be uncomfortable in his presence from then on. But she had no time now to think of others: Brian demanded attention almost constantly. Sitting on the stern bench, his hair blowing in the stiff westerly that blew up over the waves, he beckoned to her. She sat beside him and he started to fondle her thighs, stroking and pressing, making his way deliciously over her buttocks, spreading his fingers and raking her flesh. He pressed her back against the brass and polished timber of the boat, slipped to his knees before her and lowered his head. With a hand on each of her knees he spread her apart, revealing her perfectly folded vulva. She felt his tongue slick a trail along the fold. But his hands pushed her knees further and wider, and the slit opened. 'Brian!' she whispered. 'The men...' He laughed. 'We've done this before - what's happened since yesterday?' Since yesterday she had suddenly grown aware of the men, of Rex especially, and it made her feel hot under the collar of Brian's sailing shirt. He persisted, pressing her knees apart, his tongue insistent, her inner lips and clitoris coming out as bidden by his sexy overture. She was open and visible in a trice. Closing her eyes, she threw her head back as she had done before, enjoying the warm rays of the sun on her face, and Brian's tongue on her most tender places. He went on and on, turning her to jelly where she sat, and it was not long before she stopped caring altogether whether anyone was watching, or whether they heard her sighs of pleasure as he made her come in broad hot daylight. He lapped and sucked, noisily, swiftly, slowing inexorably, raising the tempo again then slowly relaxing until she was trembling, enjoying it so much tears of pleasure came to her eyes. Her mouth opened and she involuntarily licked her lips. 'More?' he asked. She knew his jeans were bulging with desire. 'Later.' He made her sip lemonade laced with vodka from a glass beading with condensation. Who had brought it? The tray was on the bench beside her. Had someone crept up while she was dizzy - deaf and blind - with rapture, and placed the tray there while she was being ravished by tongue? Was it one of the faceless, nameless men... or Rex himself? He had often come on deck with some delectable snack on a tray for them, and she had never noticed or cared that he was fully dressed and she and Brian were naked. Slowly, the heat of discomfort seeped into a redness in her cheeks. This was strange. She had loved being watched by Boris Petrowski, by his friends - a host of people had watched her being pleasured as she made her vows to Brian. Was this so different? She was not sure. 'Tonight we shall dine on shore,' Brian said later, after she had ministered to his wants and he lay back on the massive bed, replete and satisfied as a cat after a bowl of thick cream. He massaged his cock and it lay passive and spent on his thigh. She stroked it for the last time and turned to a mirror. 'We'll berth at a little-known landing and eat at a small restaurant that's hidden in a valley.' 'How nice.' Dianne was thinking of what she would wear, how she would have her hair. 'You must wear the pleasure beads for me.' She spun her head. 'While we're out?' 'They won't fall out, but they'll have you longing to return to somewhere I can play with you and bring you off.' He was right. Dressed in a simple white linen shift, with her hair negligently but artfully brushing her shoulders, Dianne looked splendid, with Italian pink sandals on her feet and matching glossy lipstick and nail polish. She wore no knickers, at Brian's demand, a fact that was invisible but which made her squirm when she felt the eyes of their captain upon her. Rex did not smile. The stern slit of his mouth did not move as they said good evening and left for the small restaurant. Dianne moved down the gangplank, her uncertain gait making her stumble slightly. The movement made the gold balls inside her vagina tremble and vibrate, startling her. 'Oh!' Brian took her hand and led her to a car. He knew what her agitation was about. 'Do you feel it?' 'It's unbelievable,' she whispered. 'It's like ... I don't know what it's like.' Her voice was full of throaty sexiness. 'It's so amazing.' 'It's so sexy.' 'Yes.' He kissed her where they stood, and she felt Rex's eyes burn on her back as they left. What would the evening bring? The restaurant was small and crowded, but they were led to a reserved table that already held two goblets and a champagne cooler. Dianne sat primly and waited for Brian to adjust her chair. Instead he reached down and pulled up her skirt so she would not sit on it. Did anyone see? The metal chair was cold underneath her bare thighs and buttocks. 'I want to be able to touch you while you eat,' Brian whispered. His hand stroked her thigh, higher and higher until the fold near her pelvis was felt. He traced her side and the large V where her thighs met. 'Open - open for me.' She parted her legs slightly, and his hand slid downwards between her thighs. She sighed. 'When the lobster arrives, I want you to start eating slowly. Tiny nibbles. I will continue to stroke you... here. And here...' Dianne sighed again. Under the table, he was pleasuring her as she sipped champagne and looked around her. The metal chair warmed to the temperature of her hot skin. His fingers played with her baby-smooth pubis, caressed the meeting of skin that could so easily open to his touch. She did not care if they were watched. It was what Brian had made her used to - it was what he wanted. A hot flush rose to her cheeks. At an adjacent table, the hot flushed cheeks of a young woman betrayed that what Brian was doing under the table was not so discreet or subtle. She looked away, but as if hypnotized, the strange woman's eyes were drawn again and again to Dianne and Brian. Was she envious of the sexual attention Dianne was getting? Before long, they were back at the boat. Casting off as soon as their feet touched deck, Rex the captain took them on a brief sail, only to come alongside another jetty whose dark shape loomed up in the bay. Brian stood unsteadily, holding Dianne's hand and kissing the inside of her wrist. His tongue trailed to the crook of her elbow, then the inside of her upper arm, and she shivered. 'Tomorrow, Rex will bring you to the mansion, and...' 'Surely you are not leaving me here?' Dianne was astounded. Without a word, Brian climbed the companionway and was gone to a waiting car. Dianne watched and stood on deck unsteadily as the yacht came about and sailed smoothly away from land. She was still in her linen dinner dress, and the sex balls were still vibrating demandingly inside her, the tactile promises Brian had made to her body still resounding. Her hair blew in the coastal wind. She swept tresses away from her eyes, from the disappointed line of her lips, and her hands fell to her sides. He was gone again. She would have to wait again. Suddenly, without having to look round, she felt someone was standing behind her. She felt a presence. And knew who it was. Without turning, she knew Rex would say something. But nothing could have prepared her for his words. 'He does not love you,' he said. Whirling round in fury, Dianne's hand shot out and slapped the yacht captain squarely on the left cheek. Rex's hand rose to his cheek, his grim mouth almost savage with intent. She could feel his eyes sweep from her angry eyes to the hem of her skirt, as if he knew she wore nothing underneath, as if it was no news to him that her bare loins and jangling sex balls were now an embarrassment, seeing Brian - the man she wore, or did not wear, things for - was gone. It was as if his eyes tunneled past the linen to see her bare and expectant flesh. She started to walk past him, but he took her by the forearm and stopped her. 'Dianne - he is off to the mansion. And I am sure you know why. I cannot stand to see this happen to you.' 'How dare you...!' she raised her hand to slap him again, but he caught it mid flight. 'Listen - listen! Please listen to me. Can we talk?' Rex's eyes were suddenly soft. His permanent scowl was gone. What did this man have to say? What did he know, and what did he mean? Dianne did not have to listen to him. She keenly sensed he hardly knew her, and could not possibly care a fig about how she felt. 'Talk?' Rex was suddenly a yard away from her. His eyes were in the dark. The yacht was making headway into the wide bay. She was in his hands. There was nothing else to do but allow him the courtesy of saying his piece. She would have to decide what to make of it. 'Give me a few minutes,' she gasped, surprised at her composure and determination to hear him out. What was she doing? 'Give me fifteen minutes then come to my stateroom,' she said. The linen dress thrown on the bed, Dianne could not bear to tug on the string of sex balls and remove them from her warm throbbing cunt. But she had to. She needed to compose herself in a cool calculated way - a totally non-sexual way - for Rex's visit. He was going to tell her something about Brian, and she needed to concentrate. She looked at herself in the mirror and slowly put on layers of clothing, as if to keep this surly captain at a distance - separate him from her body by physical means. She snapped on a black bra and tugged up a pair of French knickers. A black t-shirt and denim pants followed, with a fleece jacket she had found in a locker over the top. She pulled her hair back into a severe ponytail and divested her ears of the gorgeous amethyst clips that had hung there. She felt exposed rather than clothed. Rex had the kind of eyes that penetrated those he looked at. His gaze, his sharp jaw line and deep eyes were made even more stern by the fact his long hair was pulled back into a buccaneer's knot. Was he good looking? She did not care, nor did she want to look at him again, but she had said the words, and he was coming. He does not love you, he had said. What did he know? Why was she foolish enough to listen to him? Rex rapped on the door to the cabin and she let him in. He too was wearing a fleece jacket. Perhaps they were both wearing protective clothing against each other. His eyes were slitted, but slightly apologetic. 'I am very sorry,' He started. 'I had no right to say those words - but tonight I felt something... something I have never felt before with Brian and his trips and his ladies.' 'Brian's ladies?' Dianne's rehearsed words, words she summoned to demand an explanation from this captain, were forgotten now, useless. He gestured towards a tub chair and she sat. 'Surely you suspect, Dianne - that you are by far not the first woman Brian has brought on a trip on this yacht, and other yachts I own. Surely you have an inkling of what he is taking you back to, at the mansion. Surely you understand yours was not the first and only 'ceremony' I have attended.' She gasped in disbelief. Her hands held the jacket tight around her. 'Oh god - you have no idea, do you?' His eyes filled with something other than curiosity, envy or braggadocio. Was he feeling sorry for her? 'Stop,' she whispered. 'I don't want to know.' 'Oh dear,' Rex mumbled. 'Brian... look - I have known him half my life. He doesn't love you, or any of the others. He is only capable of... I'm sure you have had more than a taste of what he is capable of.' 'But... but - he promised. We made a vow.' Rex laughed sarcastically. 'You made a vow. Brian made no promises to you. I was there. He always makes sure though, that the woman is aware of what she is entering. This time, with you, it was slightly different. I felt it immediately. You have no idea, do you, that you have to share him with half a dozen others?' Dianne felt faint. She tried to rise from the chair but could not. Images of all she had done with Brian floated before her eyes. She remembered the ecstasy, the waiting, the yearning, the hours of sex, the nakedness, the jewellery. She remembered being watched by Boris, brought to climax by a masseuse behind a double mirror. What else had she done? Her whole body grew hot and uncomfortable. Embarrassment and confusion filled the cabin. 'He was ... I was...' Rex did not try to touch or comfort her. His stern eyes blinked several times as he waited. Then, when Dianne was visibly calmer, he launched into an explanation she had never thought she would have to sit and listen to. 'Brian is well known in Las Palmas for his sexual excesses. But he has the money to do as he likes. That mansion has seen the coming and going of scores of beautiful women. There are always as many as seven or eight in residence at a time. One or two have been his favourites for months, if not years. Brian is capable of a lot of unusual things, and yet incapable of some quite simple things. He cannot, for instance, achieve gratification unless he is watched. In addition, he likes the thrill of lending his women to others. Surely you...' Humiliation gripped Dianne with its cold hands. She could only shake her head. 'Why are you telling me this?' Did Rex have a grudge? Did he hate Brian, or envy him so deeply, that he was trying to wreck what she had with him? She said so much in poor words, her throat parched and tight. It made Rex give a short sharp laugh. 'I think you are the first and only woman who seemed genuinely in love: naïve and credulous and trusting enough not to doubt Brian for a minute. All the others took it as a sexual game. You were duped. I noticed immediately.' 'But we've been together for months!' 'And how often in those months did he go away? Did he make you wait? Did you not notice anything strange? He must have told you the tallest stories!' 'You mean he lied to me!' 'Perhaps he never thought you actually believed him. Perhaps he thought you were playing along.' 'He said he loves me.' Rex's face was a mask of disbelief. Dianne shook herself. 'Well... he never actually said it.' What had Brian said and promised? What were his actual words? 'Do you mean he was here with someone else all the time I waited for him?' And what about Boris? Was Boris a liar too? 'Boris said the mansion was built for us. He said we made an admirable match.' 'It was built for "you" - for all Brian's women. And he does choose some admirable women. He also has some admirable friends - can you imagine what happens at the mansion? But listen, Dianne -' 'Oh stop! Stop.' She rose from her chair, stumbled and sat back again. The yacht was rolling, and she realized they were now in open waters. 'You are a talented intelligent woman - does Brian really appreciate who you are and what you do?' She sneered. What did Rex know about all that? He went on. 'You are a musician. When's the last time he really listened to you play? When's the last time he took an interest in your music?' How did he know all this? Tears came to her eyes and suddenly started to fall copiously down her cheeks. They were hot tears of loneliness, humiliation and devastating disappointment. She put her face in her hands and sobbed. Rex did not touch her. Handing her a handful of tissues, he stood and made his way towards the door. 'I'm sorry I had to be the one to enlighten you. I hate to see you like this. No one likes to be the bearer of bad news. But I had to pull the curtain aside, Dianne. I could not in all fairness allow you to stumble on the truth the hard way. Tomorrow he was going to install you at the mansion... and it would all have come out in the next few days.' Don't go, she wanted to plead, but she let him go. It was going to be hard to be alone. She was still mystified about the whole charade, going through all her encounters with Brian, all their time together, to see if she could put a finger on the moments he was lying, but his words were distant now, so engulfed by confusion and emotion that she could not distinguish the times she waited impatiently for nothing with the times her eagerness for his arrival was rewarded by his presence. Yes, it was like a reward each time: his presence, his body, his caresses, the wild abandon of watched sex. She hoped Rex did not know what explicit performances and naked rites she had allowed herself to take part in: the topless dancing and piano playing, the naked walks in parks. The times she had been stroked and suckled openly in restaurants. The times he had parted her clothing in front of others, to show her unusual breasts off to friends. The evenings she had spent wearing nothing but the black pearl pendant she had promised to wear only while naked, while Brian entranced her with hours of sex in front of the famous composer Boris Petrowski. She recalled how she had succumbed to being aroused by the hands of others, especially Astra, the Russian masseuse. Then, the charade of their promise of chastity, of erotic celibacy came to mind. It was humiliating. She hoped Rex had no idea what she had been through: the weeks of waiting, of masturbating alone. Tears of anger and frustration flooded once more. She had been betrayed. She thought she was Brian's love, his only devoted sexual partner. It was all a lie. She threw herself on the bed and wept herself to sleep like a child.

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