The Bitter End

The cab stopped in front of the Hotel Del Rey, where Heinz was staying and where they had arranged to have dinner. Just as Pico was awkwardly rummaging in his wallet to pay the cab driver, Melanie rushed out of the hotel lobby crying. Confused, she ran through the door and looked around, tear‐blind. Pico looked up in surprise, because he would have expected anything here but Melanie. At the same moment she caught sight of him, ran towards his cab and yanked open the door.

"Please, take me with you, I have to get out of here!" she shouted unrestrainedly, wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand, smudging the wet mascara on her tear‐stained cheek. Pico couldn't make a sound, Melanie dropped down on the bench next to him. Although she tried to pull herself together, her tears flowed again.

The driver was still counting out the change awkwardly when Pico asked her where she was going. Melanie couldn't think straight and sobbed that she didn't care where. Pico reviewed the situation in a flash in his head and came to the conclusion that the cozy dinner with Heinz and Elsa was invalid; obviously there had been a quarrel between Heinz and Melanie, and it was probably wiser to write off the evening. "To San Telmo!" ordered Pico to the driver, and retreated to the rear of the Car back.

Melanie was still fighting tears. In everyday life, she was a woman who knew how to "stand her ground," as she sometimes mocked. She just hadn't been prepared to catch Heinz in flagrante delicto with the blonde Dane bitch. Desperately, she scolded herself and her stupid jealousy. "You knew about Heinz and Elsa all along, didn't you?" she asked accusingly, and Pico squirmed. No, he had assumed until now that Elsa was Heinz's wife, and only the day before yesterday had he learned to his surprise that there was a wife, Melanie. Heinz had been completely flummoxed when he received Melanie's call. While they were driving to the airport to Melanie, Heinz had begged him not to breathe a word about Elsa to her. No, Pico lied, he didn't know anything.

Melanie wrapped herself in bitter silence. She dabbed the last tears from her eyes and muttered crossly, "Men!" No, she didn't want to go to the old witch Olivia, and she told Pico so. He thought for a moment, then said they could go to his ship and have a drink if she wanted. Melanie stumbled: "Why — your ship? I thought it belonged to Heinz?" Pico squirmed uncomfortably and kept silent. Heinz had asked him not to reveal anything about their deal — he would give Pico the ship if Pico would give him Rodolfo's share of the bar cheaply. Pico, who had no interest in the bar, agreed. They had agreed on the sum after a long, bitter struggle, without Pico suspecting what Heinz had lied to Elsa: that the ship was now his and that they would have a wonderful honeymoon — Heinz, in his scatterbrainedness, had of course also forgotten to inform Melanie about the state of the negotiations. Pico also had no idea exactly how the drama had played out in the hotel; the frantic Melanie, who cried tear‐blind, and the equally crying Elsa, who sniffled defiantly that Heinz was now hers and they would go on Heinz's ship for their honeymoon! Melanie thought of the bank receipt she had seen at Heinz's and found that Pico's silence convicted him of lying. Men!

The cab waited until they had crossed the gangway onto the TITANIA in the headlights. Pico kept pouring wine, listening to Melanie's nasty tirades about Heinz and keeping silent about it all. He loved the gentle rocking of the ship and only listened with half an ear to what Melanie was saying. Whenever she started to cry, he stroked her hand and poured more wine. It will be all right, he thought, the world doesn't end every time a man exchanges his wife for a younger one. Soothingly, he put an arm around her shoulders and let her cry, let her lean her head against him, there she could cry unobserved.

Melanie was slow to calm down. The red wine exuded a comforting warmth, slowly her tears dried up and she saw things only bitterly, even if they were no longer as fatally hurtful as they had been in the first moment. She disentangled herself from Pico again; she didn't need a strong shoulder to cry on! The little Danish whore would find out soon enough how unreliable love, youth, and even men were. Hastily she drank the red wine that Pico patiently refilled. She became more and more silent, for she was no longer just tipsy, but already heavily drunk. The thoughts in her head flowed incoherently and as if through a fog. No, she would not take it so easily! Surely Heinz was now lying in the hotel bed with his blond Danish girl and — oh, what did she fret about it?! With a blurry gaze she looked at Pico, whom she thought was at least sixty, but a good‐looking man, he was nevertheless! And Heinz, that bastard, he should still be surprised! No, she would not take it so easily! Although she was already heavily drunk, she had to laugh at the thought of how stupidly Heinz would stare at her when he saw that she was looking at Pico — with a quick movement she embraced Pico's neck. she clasped Pico's neck, pulled him to her and kissed him, right on the mouth.

Pico froze. Melanie, the wife of Heinz — no! But he felt her warm lips and her demanding tongue play, her urging and her demanding body, which pressed vehemently against him. The wine had also gone to his head a little, but even if he was not drunk yet, he could not resist the urge of this woman. Never in his life had he refused the offer of a woman, certainly not of a dashing and elegant woman in her late forties, by God, no! Inwardly exultant, he returned her kiss.

Tightly embraced they lay on the bench. They had hastily and greedily rid themselves of their clothes, and Pico wanted to fuck Melanie without transition. But the situation and the red wine put a spoke in his wheel. Confused, he noticed how his cock tiredly refused to serve. Groaning and snorting, he tried everything, but it didn't help. Tightly entwined, they lay on the bench. Melanie laughed cooing, reached over to the table and drank from the bottle.

Melanie had had few lovers before Heinz, and since they were married she had been faithful to him, more or less. Except for a few dozen fleeting adventures she had slipped into during her travels, only to forget them right away. Violent sexual excitement followed by fleeting union, hasty and without love; disillusionment and embarrassment, — there was nothing more to say about it. With a mixture of misery and curiosity she looked at Pico's body, her eye sliding down his belly that had become handsome; no, a beauty he certainly wasn't, but his cock was fine, although at the moment he didn't seem to want it. She didn't know why he couldn't, but she didn't care; she insisted with the best of drunkenness on getting even with Heinz. She finished the wine quickly and put the glass back down. Although she was nauseous and felt like she was wrapped in soft absorbent cotton, she grinned wryly and touched Pico's cock. She wanted badly to fuck now!

Despite her drunkenness, Melanie was uncomfortable when Pico shifted his center of gravity a bit and also groped her with the freed hand. No, she didn't like that, never let anyone touch her like that! But Pico remained unperturbed and Melanie shot through her mind that she would not have an orgasm like that; because even if she masturbated, which happened every night, it was very difficult. Annoyed, she moved away a little and paid more attention to his cock. To distract him, she slowly lowered her head and took it between her lips. Pico let out a sigh and paused paused for a moment, then continued stroking her. Melanie sucked and sucked his cock and felt herself getting even more nauseous, even though she felt a slight sensation, a familiar tugging in her abdomen. Confused, she tried to escape his fingers and at the same time felt his thing growing and getting hard in her mouth. She sucked and sucked as well as she could — and after all, Heinz kept affirming that she was good at it!

She marveled at how good Pico was doing her clit; the alcohol completely loosened her inhibitions; she was like she was on clouds, staggering from snippet to snippet in her horny drunkenness; she winced just a little when Pico rubbed once too hard. Melanie held his cock deep in her mouth and sucked hard, because Heinz liked it that way. Suddenly she imagined that he was about to cum and took it out of her mouth. A bright drop came off the glans and Melanie thought she was mistaken. She licked the glans with her tongue and took it back into her mouth, letting it slide in deeply. Almost immediately a thick jet deep into her throat. Grinning, she pulled it out quickly and held the glans to her lips, as Heinz liked it so much, but it failed to materialize, he didn't squirt any further. Melanie was now completely confused, because at that very moment Pico's finger triggered her orgasm and this wonderful, powerful orgasm almost tore her apart. They lay still until she could breathe calmly again.

Humming, Pico let go of her and lay heavily on top of her. With one hand he reached down and controlled his cock, slowly penetrating her, smiling silently at her apparent unfamiliarity with his technique. Melanie was confused; had he squirted or not? If Heinz had squirted, it was over; but why was Pico continuing to fuck? She fumbled with one hand on the table for the red wine bottle, put it to her mouth and drank, gurgling, rinsing her mouth, while Pico kept fucking her. She giggled to herself at being rocked along with the red wine bottle at her mouth. She didn't like his strained, contorted face, nor was his thrusting as pleasurable as his finger play earlier. She set the bottle back down and placed it unsteadily on the table; almost knocking the bottle over in the process. Pico fucked her as long as she had ever been fucked, but he still wasn't finished.

Pico grunted and straightened up. Melanie didn't know what hit her when he suddenly reached under her pelvis with both hands and turned her onto her stomach with a jerk. No, she didn't want that, she had never liked that! She struggled and resisted, but he was stronger. To her relief, he didn't penetrate her asshole like Heinz, but her vagina again. She relaxed again and supported herself with both arms. Pico fucked faster and faster, rocking Melanie back and forth and driving his spear as deep as he could. As if absentminded, Melanie felt the heat slowly coming and rhythmically braced herself against Pico, hoping to finally orgasm while fucking. She cheered inwardly because she felt for sure her orgasm rising, a wonderful first fuck‐orgasm breaking loose with full force! But from the rocking she had become more and more nauseous, and all at once it choked and gagged her, just as her orgasm began. Her whole body stiffened, but Pico didn't seem to have noticed anything, on the contrary, he mistook her spasm for a God‐knows‐what‐orgasm and spurted loudly panting as she vomited and orgasmed. Melanie squirmed in the spasm of vomiting, in the midst of the convulsions of her orgasm, feeling his twitching endless squirting at the same time. Pico gasped heavily and slumped to the side, utterly exhausted to the side. Gentlemen, he thought, did she have a fabulous orgasm! Melanie awkwardly covered the vomit with a sofa cushion and dozed off next to him.

She sat shivering in the cockpit and stared out to sea. She drank red wine again and smoked; despite the wine, she sobered up abruptly. What on earth had she done! In her unrestrained rage, which she had never openly directed at Heinz before, she had given herself to a complete stranger. Annoyed, she remembered that she had asked Pico like a bitch in heat to attack her. Her annoyance turned to disgust when she thought of humping. Yes, she had been humped like a bitch, and then he had also squirted at the very moment she was throwing up! But both orgasms were top, she grinned, they were all worth it! Melanie drank another sip of red wine and howled again, anew, flicked the cigarette into the water and thought bitterly that Pico had squirted inside her without a second thought — what the hell, she hadn't thought of a condom either! The red wine comforted her in her misery, exuded pleasant warmth again, spreading inside her. She drank the wine in small sips and felt the warmth in her abdomen gradually turn into horny heat. She put down the bottle and lit a cigarette. Gently she stroked her pubic area, where the heat was gathering, and giggled as she realized that she was not only quite drunk, but inexplicably horny again. Almost a little astonished she noticed how hard and hot her clit still felt after this eternally long fuck!

She leaned back with a sigh and drank the wine bottle in small gulps. The wine had loosened her tension a little; the thought of getting back at Heinz was just so silly and asinine that she had to giggle. She finished the cigarette and threw the butt resolutely overboard. She lay soft and relaxed on the seat cushion and felt the probing, demanding heat in her abdomen. With a glance she made sure that Pico was asleep down in the salon, breathing loudly, and that the pitch darkness protected her, then she put one leg up. No, she had to lean back more and support the bent leg. With her eyes closed, she lifted her leg and felt her way to the open hatch. Her sole felt a resistance, hard and soft at the same time; a rubber hose!

Melanie awoke naked and shivering in the dawn. She glanced at the empty cigarette pack and at the nearly empty bottle of red wine. It all came back to her; she quickly glanced around to see if anyone could have been watching her pleasurably masturbate. But Pico was still sound asleep in the salon, and all was quiet ashore. Melanie quietly descended, picked up her dress and handbag and quietly walked down the gangway. She staggered for a second because the mainland made no ship's movements, then she pulled herself together and headed for the shore road; she'd find a phone and a cab yet!

She didn't have to go far, because at the end of the village a rental car overtook her and stopped. It was two friendly Swiss men who took her all the way to the center of Palma and graciously dropped her off right in front of her hotel in Porto Pi. The driver conversed suavely and eloquently with her, but the other one in the back, who was wearing a floppy hat, didn't speak a word.

Wimmer and his companion in the floppy hat had spent half the night watching outside Olivia's windows, but she was alone; Rizzi did not come. The one in the floppy hat took dozens of shots as Olivia masturbated for over two hours, then turned out the lights to sleep. They scurried out of Olivia's backyard and drove back to Palma. They took a drunken hitchhiker all the way to Porto Pi and listened with disinterest to her web of lies.

Pico's first thought upon awakening was how stern it smelled in the cabin. He looked at the brimming ashtray on the floor, the red wine stains on the table, and the overturned wine bottle rolling around on the carpet — clearly the place stank like a cesspool. Melanie was nowhere. When he sat up and pushed the head cushion aside, he discovered the vomit. Disgusted, he got up and walked to the companionway. No, Melanie wasn't in the cockpit either. He turned and looked for her dress, her handbag. Then it slowly dawned on him that she must have left in the middle of the night. He grinned as he looked for his cigarettes, because it had been a really good fuck! After all the lonely days on the TITANIA, Melanie had blown into his good room like a gift. He knew he would give Heinz a hot Negotiation round offer.

Pico lifted the match to the cigarette, shielding it with the hollow palm of his hand, squinting his eyes as he always did. His gaze slid over the small flame out into the cockpit, falling on the half‐empty bottle of red wine and the empty pack of cigarettes that Melanie must have left lying around. His eyes fell on the open hatch and the open hose end of the gas line. Pico dropped the match into the ashtray on the floor as it began to singe his finger.

The last thing Pico saw of this world was the glare of the flash of the explosion that tore him and the TITANIA to pieces.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎