Best Women's Erotica 2014 by Blue Violet

Author:Blue, Violet [Blue, Violet]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
ISBN: 9781627780162
Publisher: Cleis Press Start
Published: 2013-11-18T05:00:00+00:00

They were anchored off an island near Fiji when the captain called a day’s shore leave. The sun was hot as a griddle, and they paddled ashore in tenders. Marylou’s boat was the last and as she approached she could already see that the men had all taken their shirts off and were spread out on the sand like crabs drying for market. Some of them were burnt already.

She found some shade under a tree and looked out at the water, foamy peaks fizzing into hot brown sand leaving tangles of seaweed and crumbs of shell in their wake. From her pocket she took a penknife, found a piece of wood and began to carve idly.

After she had sat for a while, a deep New York accent made her jump. “Now Max, what’s a guy like you doing on a day like this with his shirt on. Sun’s hot as a pancake, don’t you want to get some color?” She looked up to see one of the deckhands, a huge handsome blond man with cruel green eyes, standing above her.

Marylou kept carving away at the little stick of wood. “Don’t like the heat.”

“You’re in the wrong job then ain’t you?” He dropped to his haunches. She smelled beer and manly sweet pomade on him. He wiped his sweaty brow with a palm and looked at it.

“You try working the stoke room. Get enough heat in a day. Besides I’m fair, I burn.”

“Come on,” he had a look in his eye. “What are you hiding under there?”

She could feel the blood creeping up to her face, the neckline of her T-shirt gathering moisture.

“All I’m sayin.” He stood up and moved off back down to the shore, shooting her a look over his shoulder.

Marylou looked farther up the beach and saw that three of the bosun’s men were kneeling down. The bosun flung a pebble to the ground and the men dropped to their flanks, wrestled their cocks out of their shorts and pushed them into holes dug where the sand met the waterline. They fucked furiously, cursing and swearing at the friction, the grit. The bosun on the starting post laughed hysterically. Marylou watched as each sailor grew red, then beet, then panted wildly. The man in the middle came in a raw, fierce voice, raised both his stocky arms in triumph and collapsed onto the sand. The other men fell headfirst too and they all laughed and wiped the grit out of their eyes.

The sun moved higher in the sky before it began its blinding descent. Some of the sailors looked painfully burnt and took to the sea to cool themselves. Marylou watched the Romanian stand up and walk down to the waterline, and wished she had some salve or ointment she could rub on her palms and smooth across his back. He took off his shorts and tossed them back up where he had left his duffel bag and for the first time Marylou saw his dimpled buttocks, the swing of his slender cock hanging perfectly between his hip bones.

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