Date: Sun, 8 Jul 2012 09:22:49 -0700 (PDT)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Crew

The Crew
By Bald Hairy Man

This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex.  If this offends or
bothers you DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a
discussion of safe sex. If you have comments send them to
bldhrymn@yahoo.com

The SS Bear Point was the newest and the most modern ship of my Uncle's
company, the Atlantic-Caribbean Steamship Line. Known as the ACSL, it
mostly served the shipping needs of Latin America, but my Uncle would send
cargo anywhere for a fee. As was typical at the time it carried both
freight and passengers. It was comparatively small, compared to the ships
that sailed in the North Atlantic. We specialized is high value goods, such
as industrial equipment and machinery, not in bulk shipping.

While the ship was named after my Uncle's summerhouse in Maine, the line
tended to serve smaller customers who went to the more out of the way ports
in South America and the Caribbean.  Many of these smaller customers wanted
to sail with their cargo and make sure it reached its destination, thus the
passenger cabins were a benefit. Often they were trained mechanics or
engineers to help install the equipment.

My Uncle, Horatio White, was proud of the ship and he was shocked when a
member of the boiler room crew died unexpectedly. The Captain wired him
that it was one of those odd coincidences that afflict men on the sea.  My
Uncle had a trusted agent in Havana. Juan reported that the man didn't die
of heat stroke, an occupational hazard, but had died of malnutrition.

My Uncle was a hard-headed business man, but this was too much. He fired
the Captain and the officer in charge of the boiler room. I went to New
Orleans with the new Captain, Aubrey Thomas, to take charge of the ship. I
am Andrew White, the son of Horatio's youngest brother.  I am 22 and had
just finished my apprenticeship at Roberts & Sons, Boilermakers. I am a
boiler designer, but my Uncle thought I needed some experience with
operating a boiler on a ship.

The Bear Point was dirty and poorly maintained.  I saw immediately that no
one maintained the boilers. Nothing was ship shape. Captain Thomas fired
the remaining officers and set the crew to cleaning and polishing.

An accountant went over the ship's books and discovered the captain had
been embezzling money from the operating expenses. They had actually run
out of food on the last voyage and the boiler room crew, who did heavy
manual labor in difficult conditions had suffered the most. I am a big man,
and I easily understood the problem.

Two weeks after Captain Thomas' arrival the Bear Point looked like a new
ship. This was my first time on a ship as an officer, and I was surprised
that the crew responded so well to the new Captain. He was hard to please,
but after the cleaning, they were proud of the ship. As part of his clean
up, the Captain hired a new cook for the crew mess. Julio was a real cook
and the food was both tasty and plentiful.

While the Captain was demanding, he was also generous in his praise. The
new officers seemed to be fine men.  When I first saw the crew, I was
unimpressed. It looked like the crew of a tramp steamer, not of a major
shipping company.  Under the Captain's firm hand, they began to look much
better. The boiler rooms are crewed by the scum of the earth. It is back
breaking work done in a furnace. Many times, they were men with serious
problems, usually with demon rum. Several were what my mother referred to
as being simple, or touched.

The boiler room men had their own quarters and mess. They typically
smelled. As a modern ship, their quarters had its own shower bath, but my
predecessor did not allow them to use it. He was opposed to coddling the
men.

I tried to emulate the Captain's approach. I was demanding and
generous. That worked well. I increased the food rations and required a
shower after every shift in the boiler room. My predecessor also insisted
the men be fully dressed in the quarters and the mess. I told them I didn't
care what they wore as long as they got the work done.

I discovered something unexpected about my men and something equally
unexpected about myself. My understanding about informal attire was not the
same as theirs. I assumed it meant wearing a shirt and cut off pants. They
assumed it meant naked, or wearing a minimal loincloth.

I was going to complain, but the morale improved greatly as did the quality
of the work. They were more comfortable.  I told the Captain about my
misunderstanding. He laughed and wasn't concerned.

As for my own discovery, I found I enjoyed watching the naked men as they
worked and relaxed. They excited me in an unexpected way.  At the time, I
knew nothing about man sex, but I seemed to enjoy watching their swinging
low-hanging balls. My head stoker was an Irishman named Kevin. He was a
brute of a man, barely able to talk and largely unintelligible. When he
bent over, I saw a delicate rose bud of pink flesh poking out of his ass
pucker.

I had an urge to caress the rosebud and then push it into the pucker. I
wanted to hide it so no one else knew he had this delicate feature. I did
not know the male ass had sexual potential.  I was deeply puzzled by this
random thought. It came from out of the blue. I was unaware that men could
be intimate, and even more unaware that men need to be intimate at some
times.

I would have remained puzzled for years if Assistant Engineer, Jack
Williams, had not joined the crew. I was the Chief Engineer, but generally,
my knowledge related to the design and manufacture of boilers. Jack knew
all there was to know about the operation of boilers. He was also an old
sea dog and he knew the ways of the sea. That included a detailed knowledge
of sailors' needs and wants.

Jack did not possess a shy bone in his body, and, as far as I could tell,
always said whatever popped into his mind without concern for conventional
propriety. When he met the Captain, I was afraid he would offend, but the
Captain had no problem. Apparently, he knew the type.

I later mentioned that Jack had a ribald sense of humor to the
Captain. "Men like Jack make for a happy ship," he remarked. I later found
out Jack was what was commonly called an old reprobate.  I was particularly
innocent, since I had lived with my parents or with my

Uncle through school. Being the owner's nephew did not encourage men to
relax in my presence.  Everyone was most proper, until Jack.

"It seems to me he may go too far sometimes," I said a bit uncertainly.

"Follow his lead," the Captain said. "You may end up is some wild and
unexpected places, but he knows the ways of the sea."

I didn't know it at the time, but Jack was to initiate me into the
mysteries and joys of sea going life. I thought he was crude in some ways,
but he was pleasant and affable. More importantly, he was good with the
crew.

The Captain discovered my nickname was Duck. I am six feet four and I was
taller than most hatches on a ship. When I was fifteen, I was on a ship and
the crew yelled "duck" every time I approached a hatch. I wasn't
particularly well coordinated at that age, so I was called either Duck,
Ducky or Odd Duck. I outgrew the poor coordination, but the name stuck.

When Jack came to help, I moved from the cabin next to the boiler room to
the officers' cabins on main level of the ship. That was cooler. My good
fortune did not last long. We took on an extra passenger and he took my
cabin. I was the most junior officer on the ship. While I was the owner's
nephew, I knew that bringing that up would have been wrong. I moved back to
the lower level cabin, which I shared with Jack.

I later found out he Captain had been testing me. He wanted to know if I
was going to try to get special favors. I behaved correctly and he
approved.

When I had been in the lower cabin alone, I wore my informal clothes.  I
didn't feel it was right to adopt the stokers' semi-naked standards. Jack
didn't feel that way. "The heat can make you crazy," he said. "It's not bad
now, but when we get into summer in the tropics, it will be bad. Do
everything to can to keep cool." He wore underwear during the day and
nothing at night.

Jack was a short, stocky man, but he possessed the genitals of a
well-endowed goat. He had huge balls in a low-hanging, fur-covered sack. He
was a decidedly ugly man, but I found myself unexpectedly attracted to his
genitals. They seemed to posses every masculine characteristic
imaginable. When I wasn't careful, I sometimes found myself starting at
them. Jack either didn't notice or didn't care.

Our first short voyage to Havana went well. Captain Thomas gave clear
directions and expected every officer and crewmember to do exactly as he
was told. Everyone understood this and after a few days, all went smoothly.

I had gone over the boiler and the associated machinery and reset it to
achieve optimal efficiency. Jack was experienced and he retrained the
stokers to achieve the same results with less effort. When we reached
Havana, we had reduced our coal use by twenty percent. The Captain was
greatly pleased.

Jack also insisted on regular showers. While this certainly made the
stokers look better, they felt better too. Jack was good about skin
infections and other health problems. The men felt better and they
certainly smelled better.

Our return trip was to New York. That took us to a cooler area, but until
we were near Cape Hatteras, it was exceptionally hot. I finally gave up on
my dress code and was naked in the cabin. I assumed Jack would politely
ignore the change.

"Damn it, Ducky, you've been holding out on me!" Jack said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You seemed so modest, I assumed you had a mosquito prick," he said. "You
have the full sized, Havana, Grande Supremo, man-sized cigar hanging
between your legs. You have a beauty!"

I was embarrassed and blushed. I was also pleased. No one had even seen,
not to mention ever complimented me on my genitals before. I had been
staring at his cock for a week, so it shouldn't have been a problem for me,
but when Jack stared at my cock, I became hard. When someone is looking at
your cock, getting hard is not the way to discourage him

"You could say I have a partiality for man organs anyway. I like them any
size and any shape," Jack said. "Don't tell the men, but I like big ones
the best. I like a challenge.  Would you do me a favor and peel the skin
back so I can see your knob?"  Of course, I had no desire to do that at
all, but I did.  Jack expected to be obeyed.  For the first time, I saw his
cock becoming harder.

I had no intention of going any further with Jack. Something inside me told
me that Jack would go as far as he could; I didn't want that. My cock
betrayed me. It continued to enlarge. My organ liked the attention and
wanted more. It wanted much more.

Jack was an aggressive man and I thought he would just plow ahead. At
first, he admired my privates and talked, but did no more. I didn't know
what he wanted, but I wanted it badly. By holding back, Jack insured my
desire increased.

"I know you are a nice boy brought up proper. I bet you think that cock of
yours is just a drain to dispose of piss.  I thought that way too, when I
was young," he said. "Now I think of it as a magic wand, that brings joy
and happiness to my fellow men."

"That is a romantic view," I said. I was so flustered I had no idea what an
appropriate comment might be.

"I don't think of a cock as a romantic organ. Romance is in the mind, not
the cock. Just think of it as man's best friend, his favorite toy.  I've
been working in the boiler rooms all my life," Jack said. "I don't have a
problem with heat, so it's not been that bad for me.  Most of the men hate
it. They either quit, or get sick and die. Years ago, I had a little bit of
cock play with one of the stokers," Jack explained. "A little fun can go a
long way to take the edge off a bad job.  It was good and he told a few of
his pals."

"Well, I'm no fool. I realized a lot of cock play is better than a little
bit of fun. I told them I was just a bloke with them when I'm hard, but I
run the show when I'm soft. That has worked well."

"You had sex with the stokers?" I asked in a whisper. He nodded. "How many
were willing?"

"I play with all of them. I never leave anyone out who wants to join
in. That causes trouble down the road," he said. "I eventually figure out
what each man likes and give it to him. That makes for a happy crew. I have
just started with our crew, but I'm well on the way. I could use your
help."

"I could never do anything like that!" I said. "That's impossible."

"It may be impossible for you," Jack said, "but, if it is, you will be the
first. When you're on a ship with an all male crew for weeks and sometimes
months, everyone likes a little fun. Every boiler needs to blow off steam
once and a while. You have a big one and you have a pair of oversized
creameries that I will bet are churning out tasty, sweet man cream. I see
you're already leaking some."

I looked at my cock and it was dripping. I tried to wipe it away but Jack
stopped me.

"Let me make a deal with you, Andy," Jack said. "You just relax for the
next ten or fifteen minutes and let me have some fun. We'll talk
afterwards." He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around my cock head.

I know I should have said no. I was technically his superior officer, but I
let him do what he wanted. I later realized he was what a natural leader of
men. Even the Captain took his advice sometimes. He was experienced,
knowledgeable and decisive. He understood men, and he understood me better
than I knew myself.

Once my cock was in his mouth, he was in complete charge. I had no idea
what to expect, but he seemed to know what I wanted and craved. While my
cock is long and thick, he swallowed the entire organ.  The downward curve
of my erect cock must have matched the curve of his throat. Soon his nose
was in my bush, and the cock head was deep down his gullet. His tongue
rhythmically caressed the underside of cock. The feelings were heavenly.

He knew what gave me pleasure and excited me. The slightest caress of his
tongue was enough to send me in to a nearly orgasmic state. I felt the
urges build to an unbearable level. I warned him of the impending eruption,
but he ignored the warning.

As I shivered and twitched, he pulled away. I felt relief, since I was sure
he would have been disgusted by my bodily fluids spurting into his
mouth. It was too late when I realized my cock head was still in his mouth
for the first ejaculation. I had no choice but to fill his mouth as
ejaculation followed ejaculation. The feelings were so intense I was unable
to think.

When I calmed down, I discovered Jack considered my manly fluids to be a
delicacy. My cockhead became incredibly sensitive as I shot off. His tongue
continued to work its magic as he gobbled up my semen. I relaxed as he
milked the remains of my orgasm from my cock. It was beautiful.

I assumed our interlude was over. Jack remained sucking as I dosed
off. When I woke up, he was standing next to me. his cock was at my mouth
level. I don't know what got into me. I leaned over and took the tip of his
man organ into my mouth.

"That's nice, Ducky," Jack whispered. A second or two later I had most of
his goat cock in my mouth. He was soft at first but soon was hard. I was
still recovering from my orgasm, and was feeling mellow. I fondled his goat
balls and wondered how much semen was stored in them.  As I sucked his
foreskin retracted. I tasted the juices trapped between the head and the
skin. I suddenly felt a wave of desire and lust sweep over me. I wanted his
cock. His cock ooze seemed to excite me. I couldn't get enough of it.

Now I know that cock drool is just a side effect of sexual excitement for a
man. At the time, I thought he was oozing it for me. I now know the sexual
fluids were precursors to an orgasm. I didn't want a mouth full of his
cum. His cock began to exude a particularly rich and sweet jelly.

He pushed me away gently. "I want to save it for later," he said. He
fondled my balls and he eased a finger toward my ass hole.

Everything he did was new to me. It wasn't just new. He did things I hadn't
conceived of as a possibility. I didn't know they could be done.  I
discovered a new world of sensation and pleasure. Jack was both aggressive
and gentle. He got everything he wanted.  Oddly, I was pleased to serve
him. While I remained in command, I served him too.

The fifteen-minute period turned into a night of pleasure. Jack knew what
he was doing and soon understood I had a high tolerance for sexual
exploration. My mind was spinning while my body responded to his
ministrations. Jack was consistently enthusiastic and he became more so
when he discovered I was capable of multiple productive orgasms. He shocked
me when he noted I had eight orgasms that night and we had eight
stokers. It is more correct to say I would have been shocked, if I had been
able to think straight.

Jack wasn't into love; he saw sex as entertainment. He seemed to have no
limit on his desire for sex.  As long as it was enjoyable, he liked it. He
was both the entertainer and the audience. He wasn't pushy or
aggressive. Jack was relaxed and casual about sex.

He didn't need to be aggressive. Everyone who was interested in sex fun
would eventually come to him. While Jack wasn't everyone's type, he was a
sexual magician. He gave pleasure without romance.  I know for some, a
beautiful young man is an ideal partner. No one could be further from that
than Jack.  Jack could induce the best orgasms a man ever experienced. That
insured his popularity.

His common place, "Let's just have fun" approach made it easier for men who
were inclined toward female partners to play with him. Jack was always
willing to help a man. They appreciated that. I overhead one of the
officers talking about a man cunt, and I knew he had been with Jack.

Near dawn the next morning, I forced my cock into Jack's tight hole. He
both wanted it and resisted it, but once I was in, all was well. I hadn't
been sure it would fit, but he told me it might be tight, but he was
willing. He enjoyed it, but not as much as I did. He had a sphincter of
iron, but hot, soft rectum. Again, I tried to pull out when I felt my
juices rising. He didn't want that.  The feelings in his steamy ass were
unbelievably intense.

After I shot off, he made me stay in his ass. He tightened his sphincter
and milked me, contracting his ass and massaging my cock. I became erect
again and shot off.

"A cream filled ass is a beautiful thing, isn't it Ducky," he remarked. It
had been a good night, but I was almost dizzy and confused by the rush of
sensations and feelings. I couldn't seem to sort them out in my mind. I
only knew I had enjoyed them and my life had dramatically changed.