All the nice boys love a sailor by Orr James

Author:Orr, James [Orr, James]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Amazon
Published: 2012-07-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

That summer was actually quite pleasant. Every two weeks we loaded on a new crew and set sail, down the English Channel, through the Straits of Gibraltar to the Mediterranean.

Every day at around five we would find a quiet cove, or a peaceful harbour, and secure for the night. If we were at anchor the hands would usually go to Swimming Stations. They would all change into skimpy, brief-like bathing suits and jump off the deck into the sea.

I would change into a pair of oversized British Army shorts and an old, much too large T-shirt, which I wore outside my shorts. They hid my erection very well.

I was always on shark guard so I would go up to the bridge wing with my binoculars and look for sharks. I never did see one. I did, however, see a lot of tight bums and packages. Some of the guys wore Speedos, which were as thin and revealing then as they are now, and left nothing to my imagination.

If we were alongside a jetty we would usually hold an open-air barbecue. Since most of the little harbours had a population of less than a hundred people, we would rig some awnings and invite the locals. Some of the local stuff was not bad. They lived an easy, relaxed lifestyle and they all seemed to be tanned and blonde. They weren't, of course, but maybe I was influenced by a young stud islander.

We had tied up alongside a jetty leading to some picturesque little town, just a few houses, a marina, and he had come on board for our ‘show the flag’ barbecue and beer just wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and deck shoes.

He sat with his legs spread wide on a bollard. As he was wearing no underwear, everything he had was exposed, which was quite a bit. He had low hanging balls, and a thick dick, about six inches of soft meat with a pink mushroom head. A bit large for me, but what the hell. He did look nice and a new piece of meat made for a pleasant change.

At first I thought that he was cruising. This thought was reinforced when he stretched mightily and his shorts rode up and exposed the mushroom head at the end of his shaft.

I figured that a night ashore might be just the thing, and was trying to think of way to get together with him when he noticed me looking at him. He quickly crossed his legs.

The show was over.

Whether from embarrassment or disappointment, he only stayed for another beer and left.

His loss.

Much later I had a walk along the stretch of white sand. Just past a large rock I saw him again.

He was naked, standing alone and looking out to sea.

I approached cautiously, stepping barefoot on the crunchy sand. He turned to look at me when I stood on a shell and called out.

His hair, strawberry blonde, curly and thick, framed his beautiful face like a Renaissance painting of a cherub.

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