BLOW THE MAN DOWN by Jason Bonds Chapter 9 The next morning Rick was rudely awakened by a sharp blow to his head. At first, he thought someone has struck him. Then he realized the boat was bucking and lurching violently, and he had been thrown from his bunk and banged his head on the floor. "Shit!" Rick said, getting up and looking around. He was alone in the bunk room, and there was a sickening sensation of tumultuous motion, punctuated by brief intervals of near weightlessness. The Apollo was creaking and groaning loudly, and there were frightening snapping sounds as the hull and frame work resisted extraordinary stresses. Rick ran to a porthole and peered outside. "Oh, my God!" he breathed, looking out with wide eyes. Between splashes of foaming water against the porthole, he caught glimpses of the incredibly rough sea outside. Churning, wind-whipped dark waters towered up in frothy waves higher than the boat. A driving rain was being blown in horizontal sheets by a raging wind while the Apollo rode the angry sea. Stark terror gripped Rick Marinaro when he caught his next glimpse of the ugly scene outside. The Apollo was riding the churning crest of a mountainous wave for a few seconds, then the boat dipped and slid rapidly down the slope of the great wall of water, diving into a horrifying trough between giant waves. The abrupt descent into the trough left Rick's stomach queasy. In the next instant, the boat was being literally blown up the windward slope of the next colossal wave, where it teetered at the foamy crest for a moment before plunging into another seemingly bottomless trough. Rick jumped back from the porthole as dark water slapped against it with such force he thought the thick glass might break. He hung onto a corner of a bunk bed, looking for his clothes. Loose objects were sliding weirdly back and forth across the floor, and he grabbed his backpack as it came by. While he dug in his backpack, Rick could hear the big diesel engine of the Apollo straining against the onslaught of the storm. The engine's roar vibrated everything in the room. He hurried getting into a pair of jeans and a Rod Stewart T-shirt. Rick sat on the floor and put on his sneakers without any socks. While he was tying his shoes, he found himself sliding across the bunk room as the Apollo's bow took an unusually severe dip. The sliding motion irritated his sore ass, reminding him of the previous night's marathon fucking session with the four fishermen. A momentary surge of guilt made Rick tense when he recalled how he had begged the guys to fuck him to death, how he had wallowed in utter depravity, and how he had gloried in the defilement of his beautiful body. Suddenly, the floor sloped at a steep angle toward the stern, and Rick found himself rolling across the room. Before he could right himself, he slammed into the aft wall with a dull thud. It didn't take an experienced sailor to know the Apollo was in danger of capsizing, and Rick's fleeting feeling of guilt evaporated as he realized he was in a very real life threatening situation. Hanging onto pipes and bunk beds, he made his way to the stairway. As he climbed the steep stairs, the narrow stairwell at times lay at such an angle that he found himself lying against the wall. Finally, he reached the door at the top of the stairs. Rick opened the door to a watery nightmare. The driving rain drenched him instantly, as if a bucket of water had been thrown on him. The raging wind was shrieking against masts and guy wires. forty-foot waves that towered above the boat were having their foaming crests literally blown off by the high winds, and the Apollo was being tossed about like a cork. While Rick stood in the open doorway, appalled by it all, he heard a loud crack. An instant later, the tall boom mast he had been chained to the day before fell across the deck with a resounding crash. as he jumped back inside, a huge piece of fiberglass from the radar antenna housing went sailing by. "Jesus!" Rick gasped, convinced that the Apollo was falling apart. He couldn't see anyone on deck, so he steeled his nerves and began making his way to the bridge stairway, hanging onto railings to keep from being blown overboard. As he fought his way up the stairway, Rick had horrible visions of the whole crew having been swept overboard, and he imagined himself alone on a sinking vessel. He bit his lower lip, hoping it wasn't so, praying for the sound of a human voice. He had never been so terrified before in his life. Suddenly, there was a great roar of water as the Apollo's bow dipped into a rolling wall of dark water. The mammoth wave spewed and foamed across the deck below, almost swamping the lurching boat. Rick gulped and hung onto the stairway railing, realizing that if he had been standing where he was a few moments before, the angry sea would have claimed him. He had been lucky, ascending the stairs just before the deck inundated. Finally reaching the bridge, Rick hung on for dear life and made his way to the pilothouse door -- the place where, only the day before, he had stood with his Speedo down around his knees, jacking off like a maniac while he watched Cotton and Shawn sucking each other off. Now all that seemed a million years in the past, something that had happened in another life. "Thank God!" Rick blurted when he saw the four fishermen inside the pilothouse. He yanked the door open and flung himself inside. "Rick!" Cotton said in surprise. "What the hell are you doing out roaming around?" Rick plastered his back against the wall, shuddering from fear as much as the cold drenching he'd had. "Just thought I'd take a little morning stroll," he said. Goose bumps dotted his suntanned arms. "How's the fishing today?" "You idiot!" Shawn scolded, drying Rick's black hair with a towel. "Why didn't you call us on the intercom? You could've been washed overboard!" "I didn't know there was an intercom," Rick said, still trembling. "I just woke up and everybody was gone, and it looked like the end of the world outside... so I got scared and came looking for you guys." He grasped Shawn's arm affectionately. "Goddamn, it's good to see you!" "You were so out of it this morning, we decided to let you sleep," cotton said. "There's nothing you can do to help, anyway." "Feel better this morning?" Lucky asked, looking over his shoulder at Rick while he fought with the helm. "Yes sir," Rick said, feeling a chill race down his spine when his and Lucky's eyes met. Everybody except Damon laughed at Rick's response. "You can drop the sir stuff this morning," Lucky chuckled. "No games now -- this is real life." He struggled to control the helm, which was resisting his efforts as the boat lurched to starboard. "Damn this fuckin' storm!" Embarrassed, Rick took the towel from Shawn and dried himself as best he could. His jeans and T-shirt were soaked, though, and the white cotton of his shirt clung wetly to his muscular torso. He felt nauseated, and suddenly found himself gagging with dry heaves. "I think I'm sick," Rick muttered, shaking his head. "You're seasick, man," Damon said. "I'm a little queasy this morning, myself. And I live on this tub." Shawn gave Rick a capsule and some water, telling him it would relieve the symptoms. While Rick was drinking, there was a tremendous ripping and crunching sound overhead. Rick looked up at the ceiling, petrified with fear. "There went the radar antenna," Lucky remarked casually. "The boat's coming apart, isn't it?" Rick asked nervously. "Naw," Cotton laughed. "We're losing some equipment, but the hull's holding up just fine. You think I'd buy a boat that falls apart?" Rick could tell Cotton's laughter was forced, that he was concerned abut their safety. The absence of comments by the other guys confirmed Rick's suspicion that they were in grave danger of sinking. While Lucky battled to keep the Apollo heading into the wind, Rick began to understand the importance of what he was doing. It was obvious that, if the boat should turn sideways against the onslaught of gigantic waves and raging wind, it would undoubtedly capsize. Rick quickly understood the vital importance of the big diesel engine in those circumstances, knowing that if the engine failed, they would founder hopelessly on the storm-tossed sea, capsize and slip to water graves beneath the choppy surface. This was serious business... But still, even though he knew it was ridiculous under the circumstances, Rick found himself eying the four studly seamen and entertaining lustful thoughts. Something in his mind had snapped the day before he had become obsessed with sex. Vivid images of the was they had used his body flashed through Rick's mind, making him horny all over again. He watched Lucky Donovan wrestle with the steering mechanism, his huge biceps bulging. Lucky was wearing his tight jeans and midriff T-shirt, exposing his brawny arms and scalloped abdomen. His dark-blonde hair had been wet recently and was curled into a mass of tight ringlets that dangled over the bandanna he kept tied around his head. His sinewy muscles rippled as he tugged at the helm, trying to keep the Apollo on course. Rick looked at Damon, who was anxiously peering out through the rain- streaked windows. Damon was wearing his ragged cut-offs and a gray sweatshirt. His cock and hairy balls were partially visible below the frayed edges of his cut-offs, and his long slim legs looked good to Rick. The cute teenager's lower ass-cheeks came tantalizingly into view every time he moved. Cotton and Shawn were both wearing ragged jeans and sweatshirts. An interesting rip in the seat of Shawn's jeans revealed a small section of smooth bun and a glimpse of his ass-crevice. Knowing that death was a very real possibility, Rick still couldn't help feeling horny in the presence of these good-looking guys who had used and abused him so delightfully the night before. Rick felt cheated, as if he had only begun to live, and now this -- a killer hurricane that threatened to snuff out his life just as he finally had the opportunity to experience fulfillment. It just didn't seem fair. On the spur of the moment, Rick decided he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. He decided to go for it, hurricane or no hurricane... "These wet clothes feel icky," Rick said peeling his wet T-shirt off over his head. "Mind if I just wear a towel?" He quickly pushed his jeans down, struggling to get the wet denim off over his feet. "Suit yourself," Cotton said, mildly surprised at Rick's immodesty at such a time. He was watching the horror in progress outside, and paid little attention as Rick stripped. Lucky looked around, his fawn-like eyes scanning Rick's naked body. "How about skippin' the towel?" he said. "We could use some nice scenery about now." Rick smiled demurely and draped the towel around his neck, standing naked near Lucky. He knew the big stud was enamored of his beautiful, lithe body, and he shapelessly tempted him by moving closer. "Oooops!" Lucky blurted as a huge wave tossed the Apollo at a steep angle, causing the bow to thrust upward. "Son of a bitch!" For a moment, the bow seemed to be standing straight up, pointing skyward. They all fell back against the wall while Lucky hung onto the helm. The boat careened to port, threatening for one horrifying moment to turn on its side. Lucky spun the helm, heading the boat up the slope of a great rolling wall of water. "Don't bother Lucky any more," Cotton said sternly to Rick. "I didn't do anything," Rick said, shrugging his shoulders. "Humph!" Damon snorted, looking askance at Rick, who had landed beside him against the wall. "Why don't you put your clothes back on, man?" "Why don't you take yours off?" Rick asked seductively, reaching between the boy's legs and grabbing a handful of bare cock and balls. "Hummm?" "You're nuts," Damon said, trying to ignore Rick's warm hand on his prick. But he made no effort to remove the stud's groping hand. Rick kept fondling the teenager's cock and balls. He was pleased when he felt Damon's prick responding, swelling and gradually stiffening in his hand. Rick knew Damon would now be the most difficult one of the four guys to seduce, because the boy was jealous. Lucky's obvious fascination with Rick had cooled Damon's ardor, and the boy was now seeing Rick as a competitor for his hunky lover's attention. Damon's cock crept from beneath his shorts, becoming rigid and huge in Rick's hand. Rick grinned with satisfaction, stroking the cute youngster's hard-on slowly. "What is it you want?" Damon finally asked, realizing he could hardly conceal the fact that Rick had turned him on. "I want to suck all of you guys off and swallow your cum," Rick said brazenly. "I want a belly full of you guys' jizz." Suddenly, all eyes were on Rick, who went on shamelessly jacking Damon's hard cock. There wee expressions of surprise on their faces. "Have you by any chance noticed there's a hurricane going on?" Cotton asked sarcastically. "What gives you the idea abstinence will save your neck?" Rick said, reaching out and grasping Cotton's cock-bulge while he kept jacking Damon's prick. "There's a time for all things," Cotton said. "And this is definitely not the time for fucking." "That's easy for you to say," Rick said. "You've had plenty of fun in your life. Me, I just started. And, by damn, if I'm gonna die in this lousy storm, I'm going down with a cock in my mouth and another one up my ass, 'cause that's what I want! "I love it!" Lucky laughed, hanging onto the lurching helm. "You're my kinda guy, Rick -- damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead 'n' let the devil be damned! All right!" Lucky reached back and grabbed Rick's cock, which was already partially hard. Rick saw the spark of jealousy in Damon's eyes and knew he had to act quickly. He dropped to his knees and took the boy's hard cock into his mouth. Sucking on Damon's cock, Rick cupped his hairy balls in one hand and ran his other hand up under the youth's shorts to probe at his sensitive asshole. While he titillated Damon's ass and balls, Rick slurped his ovaled lips down his cock-shaft until his nose contacted the frayed lower edge of the denim that now concealed nothing. Damon's hard-on had lifted the leg of his cut- offs, completely exposing his balls. Damon looked at Lucky and they exchanged flickering smiles while Rick fucked his face rapidly on the teenager's prick. Lucky was glad Rick had chosen to suck Damon of first, because he was acutely conscious of the boy's jealousy. And, as anxious as Lucky was to make it with Rick again, he also wanted to share the thrills with his young lover. "You're a pretty good cock-sucker, for an amateur," Damon said, running his hands through Rick's damp hair. "Have you guys lost your fuckin' minds?" Cotton snapped, watching Rick suck Damon's prick. "Rick's right," Damon said, beginning to thrust his hips and fuck his cock in the young stud's mouth.. "What the hell difference does it make? If we're gonna go down, we might as well go down first." "Very funny," Cotton said dryly. "Their logic seemed perfect to me," Shawn said with a grin as he unfastened his pants and flopped his cock out near Rick's face. Seeing Shawn's prick from the corners of his eyes, Rick reached up and curled his fingers around the Scotsman's hardening fucker while he went on sucking Damon's cock. Shawn moved closer, rubbing his drooling cock-knob against the handsome young man's cheek Rick caressed the cock as it rubbed warmly against his face. "Well I'll be goddamned!" Cotton snorted in exasperation. "I think you guys have all--" Abruptly, another mountainous wave swung the boat to starboard. The Apollo listed to port dangerously for a second, skidding on the slope of the giant wave like a surfer riding just ahead of the curl. Shawn, Rick and Damon fell into a heap in the corner of the pilothouse. Cotton had grabbed the helm and was trying to assist Lucky in righting the boat, which was riding a rising wave on its side now. There was a moment of panic that saw all five young men staring wide-eyed at the incredible sight of a world turned on its side in the midst of rushing walls of dark, foaming waters. "This is it!" Lucky gasped as he and Cotton spun the helm uselessly, trying to control a rudder that was no longer even in the water. "We're goin' down!" Pricks wilted and faces paled as the Apollo rose to a new crest, still listing forty degrees to port. The guys could see that a good third of portside was underwater as the boat skidded crazily over the billowing crest of another wave. They all held their breaths when they heard the engine sputter and nearly stall. When the engine began to roar again, everybody sighed in relief. Then, as the boat zoomed wildly down the other side of the giant wave it had just topped, the world slowly righted itself again. Water gushed from the deck below as the Apollo rose triumphantly into an upright position once more. With the rudder in the water again, Lucky and Cotton were able to head the bow into the wind at last. The engine settled into a droning purr as the props synchronized once more. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Shawn said, making the sign of the cross almost unconsciously while his limber cock swung from his open fly. His red hair was askew and his face was pallid. "Just look at yourself!" Cotton said, trying to conceal an ironic smile. "Standing there with your prick flying at half-mast and making the sign of the cross... I'll never understand you." "I couldn't help it," Shawn laughed self-consciously. "It just comes out during times of stress. Religious, that is -- not my cock." Everyone laughed, relieving the awful tension that had built up. Rick got up from the floor and helped Damon up. But Damon stopped when he got to his knees, bent forward and took Rick's flaccid prick into his mouth quickly. "No!" Rick snapped, yanking his cock from Damon's mouth, "I'm doing the cocksucking this time around, man. Understand?" He patted the top of Damon's head. "I deserve a mouthful of cum. You guys have had more than your share already."