The Steam Circle - The Woman He Claimed

(Lena’s POV)

This night too, the bed shook beneath me in that same relentless rhythm. The quiet, breathy moans bleeding through the thin wall told me exactly what was happening: my neighbor was getting her back blown out again, barely five feet away, her body slammed against the thin wall that separated our cabins. Which meant someone was getting fucked senseless while I stared at the ceiling, wide awake. Which also meant I’d be running on four hours of sleep and snapping at everyone by breakfast.

I turned my head left. Eric’s bare back rose and fell in slow, heavy breaths, completely dead to the world. Typical. The man could sleep through a hurricane.

I’d give anything for that kind of oblivion. Instead, here I was—Lena, twenty-nine-year-old executive secretary at Harper & Voss Corporate, waking up at the crack of dawn to birds, to Eric leaving in the morning for his new associate position at Kline & Rutherford, to my bladder, or, apparently, to the sound of a stranger’s pussy getting railed like it owed money.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

“Baby, do it harder… Deeper!”

My eyes rolled back so hard I thought I could see my own brain. Oh, for fuck’s sake, finish already.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not some bitter prude clutching pearls while others get theirs. But it was 3:12 a.m., this was at least their third round tonight, and his dick apparently ran on Duracell. If I hadn’t seen the guy with my own eyes, I would’ve sworn she was riding a sex robot. Hell, knowing the industry, someone had probably already patented one.

But I had seen him. Tall, dark-haired, built like he stepped straight out of a luxury cologne ad. A short, neatly trimmed beard framed a sharp, angular jaw. Not a single ounce of fat on that torso, just hard, defined muscle you could grate cheese on… or grind something else against. And those eyes. Emerald green, almost glowing in low light. I once locked eyes with a black panther on a safari in Kenya. Same predatory stare. The difference? I’d let only one of them eat me alive.

His wife or girlfriend, whatever she was, was just as stunning. Tiny thing, maybe five-three, with legs that looked endless thanks to the sky-high heels that click-clacked across the deck every afternoon. Blowout black hair, a cute snub nose, and big honey-brown eyes that made her look like an expensive doll. She was toned too, not bulky, but you could see the faint ridges of her abs when she stretched by the pool in that tiny red bikini.

God, the last time I saw my own abs clearly was at senior prom, ten and a bit years and one slower metabolism ago. I’d put on a little weight since then, hips and ass filling out my pencil skirts at the office, but I was mostly okay with it. Still, it was impossible not to compare when perfection was two feet away, getting destroyed every night.

Abs are, by the way, my little fetish; I love seeing them and touching the grooves between, driving my tongue over the...

Their moaning was making me wet. Really wet.

With an annoyed grunt, I kicked the thin sheet off my legs and sat up. The mattress creaked, but Eric didn’t even twitch. You would have to set the cabin on fire or wave a medium-rare ribeye under his nose to make him stir. Typical lawyer husband these days, new big-firm job at Kline & Rutherford had turned him into a walking briefcase who came home exhausted and kissed me like it was a contractual obligation.

I padded barefoot across the cool floor, slid the balcony door open, and stepped outside. The salty Pacific air hit me instantly, thick with ocean spray and the faint metallic tang of the ship’s engines humming far below. Waves hissed against the hull five stories down. The massive cruise liner—Pacific Serenade, adults-only, no kids, no families, just couples “reigniting the spark”—rocked gently beneath my feet. Somewhere above, string lights twinkled along the upper decks where people were probably still slow-dancing or making out against the railings. Romantic as hell. Unless you were us.

Another gust of wind whipped my shoulder-length brunette hair across my face. I leaned against the railing and stared down at the black water reflecting the starless sky. A sudden wave slapped the ship hard; cold droplets exploded upward and landed across my bare breasts. I was wearing nothing but a pair of thin black panties. Summer nights at sea didn’t require much else.

I turned, pressing my back to the cool metal, and caught my reflection in the glass door under the full moon. Average. That was the word. Average twenty-nine-year-old woman with an average corporate secretary job, an average marriage that had cooled off since Eric started billing two hundred hours a month, and now this slightly insane “second honeymoon” cruise his colleagues had talked him into. But at least paid for by his company.

For a couple like us, who have had our differences and are long past the ‘pink glasses’ phase, all the affection between the other couples was quite hard to watch. Not only metaphorically, as I’ve seen more than a few hard ones already, clothed though they were, but still obvious. Eric just looked like he was having trouble warming up to this, even though it was his idea or his colleagues’.

We’d been on board five days and hadn’t fucked once. A few dry kisses at dinner, that was it. If I wanted some simple kisses, I’d have ordered Hershey’s by now.

“I need a cigarette,” I muttered.

Too bad this was a no-smoking ship. They’d let you chug tequila until you puked in the infinity pool, but God forbid you light up. Hypocrites. The ocean was right there in case of an emergency.

I hopped up, planted my ass on the wide railing, and leaned back, letting the wind tear at my hair. Adrenaline prickled along my spine. The thin partition wall between our balconies was only a couple of feet to my right. Their balcony door was wide open. I could hear every wet slap, every gasp, every filthy word.

“Put that big cock back in my cunt.”

“Can you handle it, baby?”

“Destroy my tight little pussy—please!”

Porn dialogue, delivered live. My willpower lasted about six seconds.

I hooked a finger under the crotch of my panties and yanked the fabric aside. Cool night air kissed my bare, soaked pussy. I bit my lower lip hard as I dragged two fingers slowly over my swollen lips, spreading the slickness in slow circles.

“Ahhh yeah… Aidan…” the woman moaned through the wall.

“Mmmh…” I answered involuntarily as I parted my puffy folds and found my clit, rubbing tight, needy circles.

In my head, I saw them perfectly: the petite black-haired woman braced on her knees against the wall while Aidan fucked her from behind, that thick cock stretching her open. If his dick matched the rest of him, she was getting split in half. Would he split me like that, too?

I shook the thought away, clenched my teeth, and pushed one finger inside my dripping hole. Then two. My hips rocked forward on the railing as I pumped them slowly, imagining Aidan’s sharp jaw, those ridged abs flexing, and below them... his cock, heavy and hard, glistening with her juices.

My tongue flicked out, licking my upper lip. My nipples tightened into aching points as the wind teased them. I reached out with my free hand and gripped the top edge of the thin dividing wall for balance, then added a third finger, stretching myself wider, fucking myself harder while the sounds from next door grew louder.

“Oh fuck…” The words tore out of me before I could stop them.

Their rhythm synced with mine. Suddenly, I wasn’t on the railing anymore. I was the one on her knees in front of Aidan, pussy spread open, begging.

I shouldn’t be doing this. I should go back inside. But I needed to come. I needed to feel what it would be like when he filled me. My pussy clenched around my fingers until my imagination wasn’t enough anymore; I needed reality.

A crazy idea hit me in a rush of heat. One I would never have dared to try under normal circumstances.

I pulled my soaked fingers free, gripped the railing tighter with one hand, and leaned my upper body backward over the open ocean, the cold spray slapping my overheated skin. My back arched dangerously far. From this angle, I could just see part of their balcony through the gap.

No curtains. Of course not. People who looked like that didn’t hide.

I pressed my body flush against the dividing wall, leaned back even farther, heart hammering, and finally saw them.

Aidan stood in profile, completely naked, moonlight gleaming on every cut of muscle. His cock, thick, long, and rock-hard, glistened with her arousal as he pounded into the black-haired woman from behind. The wet, obscene sounds of flesh meeting flesh filled the night air.

“Get on your knees, Denise. I’m gonna stuff that pretty face.”

My eyes widened. The command sounded so clear that I almost opened my mouth on instinct.

Denise, hair wild, skin shiny with sweat, dropped obediently to her knees. Such a good girl. Will he reward her?

His cock hung over her face, and his balls dangled right before her eyes. She was drenched in sweat, but after fucking such a stud three times, I’d be too.

Aidan spread his stance, gripped the base of his heavy cock, and aimed it at her lips. She closed her eyes, hands clasped behind her back like a pro, and took a deep breath through her nose.

“That’s never going to fit,” I whispered, voice hoarse, even as my free hand dove back between my thighs. Two fingers plunged straight into my aching cunt, pumping fast.

Aidan pushed forward. Denise’s rosy lips stretched wide around his thick head. He fed her more, inch after inch, until he had to cradle the back of her head and thrust deeper. Her throat bulged visibly. She gagged, eyes watering, but took it.

Aidan threw his head back and groaned, “Oh shit…”

“Oh shit—” I gasped, fingers slamming into myself in the same brutal rhythm.

He started fucking her mouth in earnest with long, deep strokes, spit dripping down his shaft and over her chin. Denise clung to his muscular thighs, taking every thrust like she lived for it. I wished I could use my other hand to suck on my fingers while he thrusted into Denise’s mouth.

I was so close. My pussy clenched and fluttered around my fingers, wet sounds echoing softly. I wanted it to be me. I wanted that fat cock stretching my throat, wanted those emerald eyes staring down at me while he used my mouth.

I closed my eyes and felt my wet vagina getting hotter by the second, my inner walls contracting faster and harder with each dip of my fingers. I desperately needed something to fill me. I wanted to fuck and be fucked.

Without thinking, I opened my lips and stuck my tongue out, mimicking her, offering myself even though he couldn’t possibly—

His head snapped to the side.

Our eyes locked.

Aidan looked straight at me, those dangerous green eyes burning across the gap between balconies while he continued brutally fucking Denise’s throat. Spit ran down her chin. She choked wetly around him.

I froze, fingers buried deep inside myself, cold sweat breaking across my back. Shame flooded my chest like lava. I wanted to scramble back inside, pretend this never happened, jump ship at the next port, and never think about it again.

But his gaze held me pinned, as if he could control my body through his eyes.

Then the corner of his mouth lifted in the faintest, filthiest smirk.

He liked it.

Aidan tightened both hands in Denise’s black hair and started pounding her face harder, eyes never leaving mine. His hips snapped forward, cock disappearing deeper into her throat with every thrust. She gurgled and moaned around him, mascara running.

The heat in my chest dropped straight to my core. I matched his rhythm, fucking myself viciously with three fingers now, the wet slap of my hand against my soaked pussy loud in my own ears.

He was imagining me. I knew it. He was picturing my lips wrapped around him instead, my throat taking every inch until my nose pressed against his abs. I’d swallow him whole. I’d suck him so greedily he wouldn’t be able to pull out until he pumped me full of cum. He knew I could take him all the way.

I fingered myself to the same rhythm that Aiden was fucking Denise’s mouth. He seemed unable to take it anymore; he rammed his cock into her without mercy. Denise clung to his thighs and pushed back against him. I would have obediently let him do it without protest, so to show him my willingness, I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue. That was the last straw.

Aidan’s thrusts grew erratic, savage. He yanked his cock free from Denise’s mouth with a wet pop. Thick ropes of cum erupted across her face, her lips, her perky tits, pulse after pulse. But his attention was always on me.

At the exact same moment, my pussy clamped down hard around my fingers.

“Mmmmhhh—Aidan!” I screamed his name into the night as the orgasm crashed through me, violent and blinding. My thighs shook, my back arched impossibly farther over the railing.

For one perfect, terrifying second, I completely let go.

Gravity won.

My ass slipped off the railing. The world tilted.

“Fuck—”

Cold air rushed past me as I plunged straight down toward the black Pacific.

What a way to go, cumming while falling to my death after getting caught stalking the hottest couple on the ship.

The last thing I heard was the distant slap of waves and my own racing heartbeat before the ocean swallowed me.