by Neil Plakcy
“There’s the buggers! Thought that little bitch might have stolen my supplies. He was a sly one. Not much of a shag, either. Should have ditched him when I saw you, shouldn’t I?”
“Yeah, you should have,” I rasped, the memory of Kev and the twink walking past me doing wonders at chasing away my immanent orgasm. But then I realized what Kev was saying, and a surge of joy put me right back where I had been. I pushed my arse up higher, praying like fuck Kev would hurry up and just do me.
Moments later, there was the unmistakable sensation of a fat, lubed prick pressing against me and demanding entrance. All other thoughts flew out the porthole as he plowed into me. Kev pushed against my resisting muscles and they gave way with a bright pain.
“Shit!” I whimpered and writhed but he kept on coming, and then I was stuffed to the gills. I swear, he’d thrust so far inside me I could feel him at the back of my throat. I was gloriously impaled and I fucking loved it. Kev’s fingers explored around my stretched skin and he made approving noises.
“Wish you could see this. You look bloody gorgeous with me in you.”
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” And just get on with it, I wanted to say, but didn’t dare.
“Yeah, next time. Camera’s all the way over there.”
And then Kev gripped my hips and started to draw out, a long stroke that almost had him pulling free before plunging back in again and forcing the air out of my lungs. I had to brace my hands against the sofa cushion, clinging on as best I could as he slammed into me again and again. I tried to join in, tried to move back against him, but it was all I could do just to breathe and keep from being pushed flat onto my stomach. His balls slapped into mine so hard it stung, but that only seemed to make them more intent on shooting their load.
“Need to get deeper,” Kev panted before lifting one of my legs and forcing my knee up toward my shoulder. I was spread wide, and I arched my back as he pushed in even deeper than he had before. He ground his hips against me, the rough bush of his pubes rubbing against my sweaty skin. The change of angle meant he pushed right into that knot of nerves, and bursts of energy zinged down to my balls and out through my dick. I rolled my forehead against the sofa, aware of nothing more than the pounding I was getting and the soundtrack of the rain on the roof and Kev’s staccato grunts.
And then there was a rough hand squeezing my dick, and I came on the second pump, bliss sweeping through me like a flash flood. Kev fucked me through it, hard and fast, then stiffened and yelled.
When I came to, strong arms were pulling me off the wet patch, and that towel reappeared. I slumped against Kev and his arm pulled me close. That was nice. I hated getting the brush-off straight after sex.
“Sorry,” I said eventually.
“Hmm? What for? You’re a great shag. Sen-bloody-sational.”
I grinned at that. “I forgot to shout your name when I came. I was kinda distracted, what with the way you were shafting me.”
“Next time.”
“Aren’t you going to be moving on soon?” I knew there was some regulation that kept the boaters moving every couple of weeks.
“Yeah, but only to the marina. I’ve got a spot there booked from the first of next month. Felt like staying somewhere busy for a while. Gets a bit lonely sometimes, out there in the countryside.”
I pouted. “So you’re not going to tie me up and take me away from all this?”
Kev chuckled, and his lips moved against my ear.
“Nope, but I’ll tell you what I will do. Tomorrow I’m going to go out and buy a length of special rope, and then I’m going to get you back here and start a new hobby.”
“Sounds like fun.” I yawned and settled down against his warm body, the drumming of the raindrops lulling me into sweet dreams of being trussed up and shafted.
That’s a handicraft I could definitely get into.
SHANGHAI SURPRISE
Rob Rosen
The bar looked clean enough, I suppose. Hell, cleaner than any of the rest of them Barbary Coast pubs I poked my head into that night. I mean, I finally had me some coins to rub together, I did. Enough to buy me some whiskey with, maybe even get me a decent meal. I reckoned I worked hard enough for it, deserved something better than just a watered-down beer and some fried pig fat, which was about all I’d been living on since I arrived in San Francisco a couple of weeks earlier.
See, all I needed was some money first. Enough to buy me a few tools and a ride on out to the gold. Least that’s what I was planning on. Not what I got, though. Nope, not by a fucking long shot. Got me a whole mess of trouble instead. And it all started with the likes of him.
Feller walked into the bar just after I did. Heck, I didn’t even have a chance to order me up some grub. Was about to when he up and walks over. “This seat taken?” he asked, that brogue of his as thick as molasses, eyes as green as a field of clover, his mane of red hair swirling atop his head and below his chin like he was on fire or something.
“Nope,” I said to him, with a polite nod. “Help yourself.”
He pulled up a stool and threw down a leather satchel, his eyes locking with mine, grinning so bright that the sun got all of a sudden jealous. “Had me a fine day today, laddie,” he said to me. “Oh, a mighty fine day indeed.”
“That right?” I asked, my knee bouncing all nervous-like. “Why’s that, stranger?”
He looked around, eyes in a squint, then he up and dumps the contents of the pouch onto the table. The coins came clattering down, gold glinting in the meager light of the bar. He covered them up right quick and whispered to me, “Good day in the mines, laddie. Found me a nugget the size of me eyeball, I did.”
I gulped, my own eyeballs wide now. See, I’d heard the stories, I did. Men striking it rich like that. Heck, them stories is what brought me out to California in the first place. Now here I was, face-to-face with a living, breathing example of it. “Congrats, stranger,” I said to him, trying to keep my voice from breaking.
He nodded and slid the coins back inside their pouch. “Jack,” he said, his hand held out.
“Ben,” I told him, with a firm shake. “Ben Beauregard. Pleased to meet you.”
His grip lingered, eyes boring deep on down. Then he smiled at me again, a swarm of butterflies suddenly set loose in my belly. “Drinks are on me, Ben,” he said. “Dinner, too, if’n you’re hungry. Heck, I s’pose I could buy this whole bar if I wanted to now.”
I smiled back at him, glad at least that someone had struck it rich. Maybe his good fortune would wear off on me. I settled for a tall glass of whiskey and bowl of stew, all on him, just as he’d said. Minutes later, he plunked it all down and joined me, his snifter filled to the brim, our meals steaming on up to the rafters. “Thanks,” I said, hungrily eyeing my first good meal in weeks.
“Dig in, laddie,” he told me, eyes twinkling like the stars up in the sky, red beard dripping off of him like a river of blood.
So that’s just what I did. Ate it all like a man who hadn’t eaten in days. Which wasn’t too far from the truth. Drank down the whiskey, too, and then had me another one, Jack watching me with that ever-present grin of his as I did so. Only, right away, it wasn’t sitting too good with me. Had me a pang, all of sudden. “Uh,” I groaned, hand clutching at my side, the pain ricocheting through me, like a hornet had suddenly got loose in there.
“What’s the matter, laddie? Done ate too fast, did ya?” he asked, leaning in, looking to me like the cat that done just ate the canary.
And then the room started spinning like a twister and the lights went low on me. I seem to recall trying to stand, only my legs buckled and I teetered forward. Then that dim light closed in, black going even blacker, and all I could hear was a storm of laughter, wave after wave of it crashing down over on me, dragging me under.
When I opened my eyes again, the waves were still there, except they were real, honest-to-goodness ones now. And I wasn’t in the bar no more. And, damn, if my head didn’t feel like i
t’d been split open in two. I tried to stand, only I got pulled back. “Shackles,” I coughed out, staring down at my feet, the rusted metal clamped down tight around my ankles. “What the hell?” I managed, just as I heard the footsteps up above, then on the stairs off to my side.
“Ah, you’re up now, laddie. About damn time, too.”
“Jack,” I said, my throat dry as a desert. “Where…where are we?”
He grinned, shrugged. “Oh, I’d say about an hour up the coast already.”
And then I knew what’d happened. “Shanghaied,” I coughed out.
He nodded. “That’s what they call it, laddie. Though that ain’t where it is you’re headed. Shanghai, I mean. See, that there gold rush you came out for, it done sucked up all the able-bodied men in these here parts, it did. Not enough sailors left for whaling.”
I yanked on my chains and stifled back a sob. “But I don’t know anything about whaling, Jack.”
He laughed and crouched down, eye to eye with me once again. “Laddie, you didn’t know nothing about gold neither, but that didn’t stop you none, now did it?” He slapped my knee and nodded. “Besides, what’s there to know? All you’ll be doing is rowing. After I drop you off in Portland, I mean.”
“Then…then what?”
Again he shrugged. “Hell if I know. Alaska, I s’pose. I just get me my money bringing men such as yourself to the boats. After that, well, like I said, hell if I know.” He laughed and patted my shoulder. “But you’ll get paid, laddie. Probably make you more money than most of them men is making out in the mines. See, only the rich is getting richer when it comes to the gold. Men like you is getting nothing but sorrow, they is.”
I rattled the chains and squinted my eyes at him. “Sorrow I done already know about, Jack,” I said to him. “Got me it in spades.”
He reached across the gap and tousled my hair. “That’s life, laddie.” Then he fiddled inside his back pocket and lifted out a key. “You ever sail before, Ben?”
I shook my head no. “Never even seen the ocean until just recently. Wish I never had.”
He chuckled. “Well then, guess I can unchain you. I mean, since you can’t sail this old girl, you ain’t about to go trying nothing funny now, will ya?”
I rubbed my ankles, which were nicked and bloodied. “I reckon not, Jack. I reckon not.” I snickered, despite the circumstances. “But maybe you should sleep with one eye open, just in case.”
His shrug returned and the key got twisted inside the lock. “Good to know, Ben. One eye open it is, then.” The shackles fell off and clattered down onto the wood below. I sighed and again rubbed my ankles, the skin now purple and bruised, before Jack stood up and helped me to my feet. I rocked right along with that boat of his, landing with a thud against his chest. “Don’t you worry none, laddie; you’ll be getting your sea legs soon enough,” he told me, his breath hot on my chin as those butterflies in my belly took flight again.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” I moaned, holding on good and tight to him, his muscles like heavy rocks beneath my hands.
He grinned and led me up the stairs. “Do it over the side of the boat, Ben, ’cause I ain’t about to clean up after ya.”
I ran to the side and leaned over, the sea below churning, darker than the midnight sky. I heaved and upchucked, the apparently spiked stew and whiskey spilling out of my guts before disappearing into the swirling water, which rocked and shook the boat beneath my feet. I puked again, until my stomach was empty and my throat was burning, the tears streaming down my cheeks like a rainstorm.
“I hate you, Jack,” I coughed out.
He laughed and came over, patting my back. “That’s what they all say, Ben. Now go sit aft with ya and keep out of my way.”
So I stumbled to the rear of the boat and slunk down on my butt to the cold wood floor, willing my stomach to keep quiet and my head to stop spinning. I focused on Jack instead, watching him maneuver the ship, yanking on ropes, swinging the sail over our heads, the material catching the strong ocean breeze before sending us speeding through the water, fast as lightning. All the while, the muscles in his hair-dense forearms bulged and flexed, as did his chest from beneath his cotton shirt, the red curly hairs poking out from beneath the collar.
I sat there, transfixed. In truth, I’d never seen a man like Jack before. It was like him and that ship of his were attached somehow. He seemed to know every inch of her, every creak and groan, knew what to shift and pull and push on a split second before it needed to be done, all while the sea tossed around us, spraying the both of us in a salty mist. Made my heart pound just watching him, it did. Made my prick pretty much do the same. See, it wasn’t just a good meal I hadn’t had in weeks.
Sadly, my heart wasn’t about to stop pounding for quite some time to come. Not once those gray clouds rolled in, the thunder booming overhead as the sky went dark in nearly the blink of an eye. “Hold on!” he hollered over at me, his fiery hair whipping in the breeze.
I grabbed on to the nearby bench just as the sky cracked open and a flood came pouring on down, both of us drenched in an instant. The sail caught a sudden gust of wind and took us into a wall of water, the boat groaning, ready, it seemed, to break apart beneath us. But still Jack steered her, trying as best as he could to keep her steady, his face locked in a grimace, body tensed up tight, eyes burning bright. “Untie the sail, laddie!” he shouted, his voice barely breaking through the din of the sudden storm.
I hopped up and nearly fell right the hell on over, the boat pitching me this way and that. Still, I made it to the ropes, managing to untie the knots he’d made, and watched as the sail came crashing down around us. The boat, at last, slowed down just a bit, riding with the waves instead of crashing headlong into them.
“Now what?” I hollered over at him.
He stared up at the sky, hands like a vise on the wheel, a vein throbbing in his neck as that mane of red flew to the side. “Wait it out, laddie!” he yelled up to the heavens. “See who breaks first, it or us!” And then he laughed, the rain flicking this way and that off of him. “Hope you’re not a betting man, Ben,” he added. “Because the odds ain’t too good right about now!”
I lurched forward and grabbed on to the wheel, standing side by side with him as the rain came down in buckets. “Then let’s see about evening them up a bit, Jack!” I shouted, helping him as best I could to keep the boat stable.
He sidled in next to me, shoulder to shoulder. “Keep her steady as she goes, laddie!” he shouted into the wind, the boat crashing into the waves. “Steady as she goes!”
And steady is what we kept her, our feet rooted to the deck, hands locked onto the wheel, side by side, wave after wave after endless wave hitting us as the sky went from gray to black and back again. Never felt so damned cold and soaked through in all my years, every bone in my body ready to crack and give way, moaning as fiercely as that ship of his.
Then, hours later, the last miserable drop hit the top of the mast just as the sky began turning red, red as his dripping beard, in fact. He turned and looked at me. “Made it through, laddie,” he managed, with a crooked grin, his head at a tilt as he stared at me. “You’s shaking like a leaf, Ben. Best get you into some dry clothes before you catch your death up here. Then you won’t be worth a plugged nickel to me.”
I looked out at the ocean, the waves at last barely breaking, and I finally exhaled. Seemed like I’d been holding my breath all that time, almost. I released my grip, fingers aching, back aching, legs aching. “G-good i-dea,” I replied, teeth chattering as I fought with my body to follow him.
Back down below, he tossed me a change of clothes and grabbed some for himself, a thin towel for the both of us added to the pile. Though, by then, we needed a good half a dozen. Then I watched him undress, one soaking-wet piece of clothing after the next removed, freckled skin exposed, rife with muscle, scars, red hair that caught the water like moss after a rain. Until he and I were naked, both of us shaking, his dangling cock s
waying back and forth.
He grabbed the towel and moved on over to me, cradling my head in it, giving it a rubdown before moving it around my shoulders, my back, my chest, which was rising and falling in a steady rhythm with the ocean. Still he kept going, down my back, around my legs and, lastly, over my prick, staring up at me as he tried his best to dry me off. “Better?” he asked, moving his hand away.
I stared down, my cock beginning a slow arc up. Damned thing had a mind of its own, sometimes. A hot flush of red rose up my neck. “Uh, looks that way, I reckon.”
He stood up, and my eyes went wide. His own hooded tool was standing as ramrod straight as the mast above, the piss slit winking at me within the quickly unfolding flesh, revealing the wide helmeted head within. “Guess they’s happy to be alive, laddie,” he said, his voice suddenly thick, coarse.
“Them and me both,” I agreed, tentatively reaching out to grab the happy beast, with Jack moaning in response, eyes rolling on back inside his head.
When he opened them back up, he was smiling from ear to ear, his hand reaching out to grab my prick, both of them getting jerked now. “But you’re still shaking, laddie. Ya need some warmth in you, and quick.”
He closed the gap between us, wrapped his thick arms around me, getting us chest to chest, cocks ground up tight together as his hands rubbed my back. My own hands landed on his ass, which was fairly covered in fuzzy down, my chin now resting on his shoulder. The two of us stood there like that for quite some time, too, getting gently rocked back and forth, until my body warmed up a few degrees and my quaking finally stopped.
I looked up at him, into those fields of green, his smile ever-present. See, I ain’t never kissed a man before, but it sure seemed like a good idea right about then. I reckon he thought so, too, because his lips were on mine soon enough, mashing together, both of us swapping some heavy spit as my fingers went from his cheeks on in to the crinkled center.