I've Sailed the Seas

I stare at him as he’s thrusting up and down.
He’s got both his hands buried in the brown water, while he uses all his strength on cleaning my dirty pair of pants.
I lost my virginity in those pants.
I never touched any of the women my dad send into me, but I have been touched by a man. And not by any of the jerks that are on this ship either. No, I was touched by a hot man. About a year back when we made a friendly, peaceful visit to a small village in Fortriu, I met a man. He was a few years younger than me, but had already tons of experience in the field. The way his mouth worked…
Damn!
But Frank here?
He’s both hot and cute. He has much more depth and a natural happy, yet sexy, way of being.
And the way he moves is much more alluring. His eyes; they’re like fishhooks – catching you once, then hauling you in and knocking you out.

“How do you get so goddamn dirty? You live on a ship!” Frank complains out loud – very loud – but he never looks at me.
I smirk.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” The huskiness in my low voice was not intended, yet when it’d come out and Frank turned his head and caught me, I was more than just a little happy.
Frank cocks an eyebrow.
He just looks at me for a minute, obviously checking to see if I’m as turned on as I sound, before he goes in for another attempt to smooth me over.
I never remove the smirk that’s splayed across my face – not only on my lips, but also burning in my eyes. I can feel it.
I can feel Frank’s smirk as well when his eyes mirrors mine. Instead of following his eyes, his lips stay slightly parted as he gets up from the floor and walks towards me.
He reels me in with his eyes as he moves closer and closer to me. My breath catches in my throat when our legs touch as he stops right in front of me.
He eyes are staring down into mine – a dominant feeling of lust dancing through them.
My mouth is hanging open as I stare up at him. My pants are growing tighter, and it almost makes me claustrophobic when they won’t let me grow.
Frank’s hand – out of nowhere, it seems – lightly runs over my cheek and I gasp while my eyes slide shut. His fingertips are so soft. The skin is slightly wrinkled, but they’re still soft and delicate.
I open my eyes and see his. The spark of gold in them is now more prominent.
“You’re not a worker,” I state simply.
His expression doesn’t change. He’s not shocked, nor intimidated.
I worship his confidence.

“No.” His answer is simple and concise, yet still so uninformative and thought-provoking.
I need more.

“What are you?” His fingertips meet my words on my lips and I gasp at the feel.
He leans down close to my ear and I expect a secret to be revealed, but nothing but a hot breath escapes his mouth.
I tremble at the humidity, but once his wet, slick tongue makes contact with my earlobe I let a suppressed moan roll off my tongue.
All thoughts are forgotten when he pushes me back and somehow maneuvers himself into the riotous hammock. He lies down beside me, but is quickly pressed against my body.
I moan libidinously.
I grab his ass, but there is no reason to get him closer – the possibility simply doesn’t exist.
Frank reaches down between us and work on getting my pants undone.
“Stop,” I gasp.
Frank does.
He looks up at me with a shocked expression, and I immediately feel a longing pain in my gut that I know won’t go away until I see that confident smirk on his face again.
“Kiss me.” My voice is breathless, and my entire body follows suit as that smirk takes over my world.
Frank smashes his lips against mine, and I’m lost. He caught me and now he’s thrown me into his own lascivious, lecherous and salacious sea.

I’m drowning in it.

His hands quickly get all our clothes off, which impresses me beyond comprehension since we’re still trapped in my fishnet disguised as a regular hammock. Our loose shirts are easily removed, while our tight pants were more of a job. I will never know how he pulled it off, but then again; I will probably never care either.
His sweaty leg is sliding against my hard dick, and the feel makes me want to moan, scream and cry out in pleasure, but the risk of losing Frank’s smooth, yet harsh, lips is enough to keep my mouth shut.
But I do return the burning gasps he slips into my open, welcoming mouth.

Yet, when he grabs my hard dick hard, I can’t hold a loud cry of pleasure to fall from my swollen lips.
I don’t lose his lips like I feared. They stay close. They don’t touch mine, but I can feel Frank’s heavy, quick breath on my own sensitive lips, so I know they’re close.
Frank’s grasp on my dick also stays, only much firmer than his lips. He troubles to move me in between his legs, so instead, he turns around.
I lose his lips, but as his soft back presses against my chest and his entrance presses against the head of my hard dick, I find that I can manage for a few minutes without them.

“Don’t move,” he says to me over his shoulder, before he pushes down and wraps his ass around my dick.
I scream.
I grab onto his small waist and his long hair and fight my body to flinch, convulse or writher as the pleasure courses through me along with my hasty pulse.
The bliss keeps running through me as Frank stays still. I can feel his taut body relaxing more and more with each passing second, and soon I find myself screaming again.
He moves further down. In one motion, he takes half of my achingly hard cock into him, and it doesn’t take him long to move once more and engulf my entire cock in the warmth of his ass.
I practically sob out my suppressed desire to move and feel more of him.

But I don’t move. I do what he asked of me, because I can’t even imagine what it’s like to have such a huge thing up my ass. I most certainly, before now, could never imagine what it’d be like to be up in one’s ass.
Out of sympathy – both for him and his pain and for me and mine – I let go off his waist and move my hand to find his cock.
He moans when I do.
It fits well in my generous hand and I stroke it slowly as soft moans and gasps escape his filthy lips. I fight hard to stay still, but when he moves his hips – maybe just in enjoyment of my hand’s movements – I can’t help the involuntary thrust that surges through my hips.
Frank screams, but not out of pain.

“Do that again,” he moans clearly, before his voice is swallowed up by a cry of pleasure when I thrust my hips again.
“Faster.” He does have to gasp that twice.
Our thrusts grow more vigorous, almost violent, and our pace increases in speed. Our clammy bodies slide along each other as our sides stay pressed against the squares of the hammock’s material, no doubt leaving indents on our skin.
It doesn’t take me long to feel a warmth drowning my body, cutting off all supply of air and control as my head spins out of control and my lower body takes over.
Frank comes first. The long, entrancing moans that spill from his mouth are hotter than the liquid that spills all over my hand.
His muscles tighten around me and I let the lewd water ravish my body.