I stopped by the marina restaurant to grab a to-go coffee before driving home. I had a mild alcohol buzz and was hesitant to drive any great distance.
I pulled my F-150 out to the service road and immediately turned right down the lane to the public boat ramp. I figured I could park, enjoy the scenery and sober up.
I got to thinking about Mike and our aquatic adventure. I would have liked our hookup to have been truly mutual, but not every guy is completely ready to suck cock and have a load spill between his lips. Heck, I was one of them just a short few weeks prior.
All that having been said; I did enjoy servicing Mike’s dick. Without a doubt, it was the most beautiful specimen of man-meat I’d ever seen; let alone, sucked.
I decided then and there that I would be happy becoming Mike’s boatmate and oral cum dump.
I closed my eyes and slipped my left hand under the elastic waistband of my shorts and onto my hardening prick.
I fantasized about my next encounter with Mike. He was a pirate captain, and I was a lowly cabin boy. A deckmate had just winked and told me the captain wanted me in his cabin. I offered an “Aye, Aye” and headed toward the stern.
My timid rap on the door was met with an “Enter laddie. Captain Mike needs your help.”
I opened the louvered door and entered his darkened chamber. The Captain was standing in front of a mahogany armoire. Although I had seen him many times, I still found his visage to be far beyond frightening. The old pirate stood on one intact and one pegged leg. His right hand provided balance against the armoire, the left arm dangled at his side. This appendage terminated in a shiny steel hook. Down on the deck and between his legs was a brass chamber pot.
“Be a good laddie and help ye captain drain his sea serpent. Me hook’s no good with these buttons.” He pointed (pun intended) with the hook toward the fly of his striped, mid-calf pants.
I guess I hesitated, because he placed the barb of the hook onto my right shoulder and pressed toward the deck. I’d have been skewered, if I hadn’t knelt before him.
“Well laddie, get at it, before I mess meself.”
I dutifully unbuttoned four whalebone toggles and leaned backward. The Captain ordered, “Pull out me manhood and point him towards that pot. Mind ye not to miss.”
I reached into his britches and liberated his manhood. It was nothing like I’d ever seen in my nineteen years on earth: as long as a belaying pin, as thick as my wrist and gnarly like an old oak root.
His prick was terrifying and yet, wondrous to behold. I gripped it like a moray eel and directed the pee slit toward the pot. The Captain let loose a torrent of piss into the brass vessel, nearly exceeding its volume.
“Wring out those last few drops, boy. No sense fouling me britches.”
I kept his hose directed at the pot with one hand and, starting at the base near his ram-sized balls, used my other to milk out what I considered to be the last of his piss.
Alarmingly, I sensed his manhood stiffening as I progressed down his shaft toward the crabapple-sized head. I knew little about the ways of the world; but having grown up on a farm, I knew enough.
I froze.
“Laddie, there’s more juice to spill. Give my prick a proper wanking,” he commanded. An order was an order and besides, the hook once again rested on my shoulder.
I fisted the end of his prick, just below his knob, with my left hand and began timidly stroking the shaft up and down with the right.
“Add your spittle, boy,” he ordered.
I spit into my right palm and was ready to resume my wanking.
“No, lick me prick. Take your time and make your captain happy.”
I continued to grasp the end of his man-meat with my left hand, but raised his shaft upward. I began slurping my wet tongue up and down his hardening manhood.
“Lick the head, laddie. Put it in your mouth,” he ordered.
I swung his cock downward toward my face and licked my lips. I felt the barb of Captain Mike’s hook dig into my shoulder, urging me forward. I leaned farther forward, parted my lips wide and allowed the Captain’s prick to violate my mouth.
With no experience in such matters, I was at a distinct disadvantage. Luckily, instinct kicked in. I began bobbing my head on the end of his member, sucking as I did so. I added my right hand to his thick shaft and began jacking it from my lips to his ballsack. The more I sucked Captain Mike, the longer and harder his manhood became.
I was proud to service my commander.
My work seemed to have a positive effect. The old pirate lessened the pressure of the barb digging into my shoulder; instead, wrapping the crook of the hook around the back of my neck. He began panting like a hound. I felt spittle hit my forehead.
Captain Mike began uttering almost indecipherable phrases. I picked out: “Soon, baby”, “Daddy’s juice”, “Sweet lass” and “Lips of gold”.
My commander swatted my hands away from his prick and replaced them with his right, non-hook fist. He jacked his manhood like a crazy man, repeatedly striking my lips with his knuckles and forcing his cock deeper into my mouth.
But then he hesitated, retracted his battering-ram slightly from the rear of my mouth and ceased his growling. I was relieved. Maybe he was finished with this perversion.
Just when I anticipated rejoining my mates, he bucked forward; gagging and choking me with his bulbous cockhead. He screamed a “Yes” and exploded a mug-sized load of…………
My daydream (likely soon to become a wet dream) was interrupted by a tapping on the truck window inches from my head. I was startled, my eyes flying open and my hand whipping out from under the waistband. I looked to the left and locked eyes with a handsome twenty-something. I followed his gaze down to my crotch. There were three unmistakable precum spots on my seersucker shorts.
As I powered down the window, my voyeur laughed, “Hey, I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
I got a better look as I prepared to answer. This young man was handsome, no pretty. He was maybe only five-eight or so, but thin and tan. He had swimming pool-colored blue eyes and curly blond hair, high and tight on the sides. His most distinguishing features were his pouty pink lips.
Before I could answer, he introduced himself as Todd. As it turned out, he was a waiter at the Marina Restaurant and had seen me ordering my to-go cup. Todd went on to state that he frequently walked down this lane and that the woods were “sometimes interesting.”
Todd pointed to the passenger seat. “Lookin’ for company?”
“Sure.” I unlocked the passenger door.
We made small talk for a few minutes. Todd then leaned toward the console and placed his left hand on my right thigh, half on fabric and half on bare skin. I felt a stirring in my taint and knew an erection would soon follow.
I leaned and rotated toward Todd, bringing my left hand up to the right side of his face. He caught on and licked his pretty lips. As our lips met, he parted his slightly and made a “mmm, mmm” sound. He closed his eyes.
I teased the small oral opening with the tip of my tongue, gently touching the orifice, then retracting my tongue. I could tell he wanted more. He tightened his grip on my right thigh and completely opened his mouth.
I gave Todd what he wanted. I fully extended my penis-substitute into his mouth, meeting his own tongue. We passionately sparred with our lingual swords, exchanging oral fluids as we did so.
I felt Todd’s hand slip into the leg of my shorts, his fingers encircling my fully erect cock. In response, I dropped my left hand from his face down to and under the tail of his tee. I caressed his six-pack, then moved up to his pecs. Todd caught his breath, as I pinched his right nipple, breaking our kiss.
I removed my hand from under his shirt and settled back into my seat. I moved the seat away from the steering wheel and powered it into a semi-reclining position.
Todd caught on. He rotated even more to the left and rose partially onto his knees. He supported himself with his left forearm on the padded console. This freed up his right hand and, most importantly, his mouth for whatever he planned.
While Todd had been contorting his small frame into a semi-doggy position, I had shimmied my seersuckers (Don’t you just love that word?) down and below my knees. I pulled the front of my baggy tee up and over my head, NHL-style and encouraged Todd, “It’s all yours, Baby.”
My pretty boy wasted no time. He directed my man-meat up onto my belly, the cockhead resting just above the navel. He rested his right hand on the exposed leather car seat between my thighs, just south of my nuts, for balance. He got to work.
It was pretty clear my Johnson wasn’t the first cock Todd had serviced. He gave my balls a good spit bath, then worked his way up the underside of my prick toward its plum-sized terminus.
With my left hand, I intertwined my fingers with his golden curls. I reached to the right, ran my hand across his low back and snuck my fingers into his company-issued khaki shorts. His buttocks were as silky smooth as talc. I yearned to rub my cheek across them and lick my way toward the forbidden crack between.
Todd was an A+ cocksucker. Somehow he was able to encircle his lips around my plum without using his hands to lift my prick from my belly. He slurped and bobbed his mouth up and down on not only the head, but additionally two or three inches of shaft. I surmised he had little or no gag reflex and that he was deep-throating Old Dan.
I warned Todd. “Baby (I almost said laddie), I’m a short-hitter. I’m getting close. You want it in your mouth?”
He answered, “Uh-huh”, his response muted by a mouth full of meat.
Todd added his right hand to my shaft, began furiously jacking it and picked up the pace of his sucking.
I was getting close, damn close.
“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” I grew through clenched teeth. I stopped humping Todd’s throat, gaped open my own mouth and rolled my eyes back into my head. I held my breath.
One, two, three; then an involuntary “ugh” and spittle burst from my mouth. I spewed rope after rope of my juice into Todd’s thirsty mouth.
I released his hair and I withdrew my other hand from his pants. I apologized for ramming his throat. He looked up, swallowed and smiled. “All good, really good.”
We parted ways after a few minutes. We agreed that we were both the “love ‘em and leave ‘em” types.
Todd suggested I stop by the restaurant again sometime, should I need a caffeine infusion. “You can bet I will,” I responded; as I waved goodbye.