Soapy Sailing

Jake's slinging shifts as a manager on this massive cruise ship, busting his balls seven days a week to keep the bosses grinning and the paycheck fat. Meanwhile, he's the lone wolf watching all those bikini-clad hotties grind up on their guys, partying like it's the end of the world—while the rest of the crew's sneaking quickies in the supply closets. Finally, he scores a week off, and damn if he ain't itching to flip the script. Buddy from another liner spills the beans on Soapy Massage one night over beers—sounds like pure sin, sliding around in suds with some goddess—and Jake's hooked before the words even dry. He grabs his phone, dials 'em up with a smirk, and hauls ass over for that appointment, ready to wash away months of blue balls in one slippery ride.