Chapter 2 – Chapter 2

Part Two

At about four in the morning, I awoke to Bryan One making his way — clumsily — to the bathroom. He was like a bull in a china shop. I wondered whether it was on purpose, whether he was trying to ensure he awakened me.

I listened to him piss into the bowl. His stream was heavy and thick. No surprise there, based on his cum flow.

When he was — again clumsily — settled back in bed, I got up and pretended I, too, needed to piss. I mean, I could, but I didn't need to. But, I wanted him to know I was awake. Just in case.

When I was settled back in bed, Bryan One broke the silence.

"That head was wild," he said.

"Gay men give the best blow jobs," I answered, almost offering, "there is more where that came from," figuring he was again broaching, hoping raising the blow job would result in the offer of another.

"With your husband," he serpentined, "are you, you know, the catcher or the pitcher?"

"I usually pitch," I answered. "But, when I'm really horny, I ride that thing like a cowboy."

Charlie prefers to bottom. I'm bigger than he is. I'm 6'2" and 200 pounds. I look like a former linebacker whose a little softer than he wants to be, but still muscular enough. My hair and beard are salt and pepper, my eyes are bright blue, my nose is fine, my lips are thick (which helps with the quality of my blow jobs), and my chest is hairless. My dick is proportional to the rest of me. Nobody is going to write a letter one way or the other about it.

My husband is 5'8", 150 pounds, and built like the addicted cyclist he is. He's ten years younger than I am. We met at a dinner party. As they say, he had me at "hello." He's relentlessly happy and positive, laughs easily and authentically, and is — in his core — kind.

He also has a great dick. He is not proportional. He's bigger and thicker than he should be. Still, it takes some convincing for him to let me sit on it. I usually have to surprise him with it. If it's something I say I want, he can't make it happen.

You may be wondering, if he had you at "hello," then why are you blowing a Cargo Ship Captain the first night of your business trip?

Charlie has some kinks.

One, he'd rather watch me have sex than have sex with me.

Two, he'd rather hear about me having sex than have sex with me.

So, I knew he was going to get off on the story of what went down with Bryan One harder than Bryan One did during.

Back to the Cargo Ship Captain:

"Why do you inquire?" I asked, trying to keep the excitement about his inquiry out of my voice.

"I've never fucked an ass," he said.

Sold.

"You can fuck mine," I said, answering his unasked question. "But, there are some things I require for that to happen."

"I can wear a condom," he said. "I always have them with me. I get a lot of pussy when I'm on land. I prefer raw, but some women insist on a condom."

"You don't need to wear a condom," I said. "I'm negative and on PrEP, so I'm a safe port, so to speak."

"I see what you did there," he said, through a smile I couldn't see.

"In fact," I parried back. "One of the requirements is the opposite of that. You have to cum inside me, even if the idea is anathema to you."

"I don't know what that word means," he admitted, "but I'd definitely want to come inside you. It's like swallowing. I hate when a girl pulls off. She needs to eat it. I also hate when a girl makes me pull out. She needs to take my load, if I'm not sheathed."

"The other requirement," I added, "is a big one…. You have to kiss me. If you're going to fuck me, we can start however you want, but we're going to finish with me on my back, and you're going to make out with me while you cum in my ass, missionary."

"Is that a dealbreaker?" he asked. I heard the seriousness — and maybe trepidation — in his tone.

"It is," I answered. "Fucking my ass is the most intimate act, and I require it to be accompanied by what I think is the second most intimate act, and that's kissing my mouth."

"I'm not sure I can do that," he admitted. "The thought of it kind of repels me."

I tried not to feel insulted.

"You can," I said. "Same story as letting me suck your dick. Close your eyes, and you're kissing whomever you want to be kissing."

"I'll try," he conceded, but I was not satisfied.

"Well, now we have to try before you put your dick in me," I insisted. "Because, if you're fucking me, I move my mouth toward yours and you move yours away from mine and then you cum in my ass, I'm going to be pissed at you. And, I don't want this to end with me being pissed at you. I want this to end with your cum in my ass and your saliva in my mouth and your number in my phone and my number in your phone and the possibility alive that our paths will cross again somewhere down the line."

I had been more open and vulnerable than I expected to be. My cards were on the table.

He didn't say a word. But, I heard him shift and then leave his bed.

"Stand up," he said, firmly gripping my thigh.

I did. We were eye to eye, his height mirroring mine.

He grabbed my face, mashed his lips against mine. I noted that his eyes were open. He was kissing me, not conjuring an image.

"Softer," I said, into his mouth.

He softened, I opened my mouth, he opened his, and our tongues lashed at each other's. While we kissed, my hands went to the elastic of his underwear, I pulled them out and over the erection I could feel, and then down as far as I could. I did the same to mine, and we were dick to dick and tongue to tongue. I took our dicks in my right hand and jerked us while he continued to hold my face and bury his tongue in my mouth.

I don't know how long we made out, but I was close to cumming by the time he let go of my face and pulled back. I could tell my lips were raw and red.

"Apparently, I'm okay with the kissing," he said, laughing and looking down. "And, with our dicks touching."

"Let me," he said, reaching down. "My hand is bigger than yours."

He stroked us as he kissed me again, his left hand holding the back of my head. We kissed and kissed and kissed while he stroked and stroked and stroked.

I was breathless and a little wobbly when he stopped both. I staggered back, hit the bed, and then fell back on it.

When I had caught my breath, he was standing in front of me, expectantly, his dick — as I wrote earlier — ramrod straight and thick. "This is going to hurt," I thought to myself. I hadn't bottomed in months.

I scrambled to get the lube I kept in my dop kit. I coated my fingers and then my asshole, shoving first one then a second finger in to lube the inside of my rim. I didn't expect Bryan One to have any interest in spending time opening me up, even if he knew how, which I doubted.

I then slopped as much lube on his dick as I could before assuming the position, head down, ass up.

"Bryan," I said, over my shoulder. "You have to do what I say. Don't just ram it in. It's not a pussy. It's not built for this."

"I'll try," he said. "But, I'm pretty jangled right now."

Jangled?

He climbed on the bed and started trying to fuck my taint. I reached around, moved his slippery dick to the right spot, and implored him to give me "just the head" and then wait.

I suspect he had never gently fed his dick to anyone before. He certainly didn't gently feed his dick to me.

Naturally, my body resisted the intrusion at first.

"Fuck, dude, open up," he insisted, pressing hard.

I braced myself for what was coming and then mewed, "I'm trying."

He pressed harder, and I felt myself starting to yield. "Slowly," I urged.

He couldn't or didn't listen. Once my asshole opened enough to allow him entry, he pushed in to the root. The burning was intense. "Fuck," I cried out.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he said. "I tried."

Had he? It sure didn't seem like it. It seemed like he had ignored me and just taken what he wanted. I kind of liked that on him.

"Don't move," I insisted. "Give me a minute."

I wiggled around, trying to loosen all the obstacles so the pressure would release and the burn would subside. It took longer than I expected, but I finally felt my rectum give and his dick expand and lengthen inside me, filing me, in a good way.

"Whew," I thought. "He's in."

"Wow," he said. "Can I fuck now?"

"No," I warned. "Stay still. Let me set the pace for awhile."

I did, slowly working his dick with my ass. I was not going to set him free until the fucking started to feel comfortable and good. Ultimately, I decided I would not set him free until I was on my back and he was fucking me missionary.

"This is so cool," he said. "Watching you fuck yourself on my dick. I don't think anyone has ever fucked themself on my dick before."

"Really?" I wondered. I mean, if he was mine, I'd fuck myself on his beautiful dick every chance I got.

I started to really work his dick with my ass. When I started to boil, I pulled off, rolled onto my back, and pulled him back inside. He was over me. I pulled his face to mine, and we kissed with more passion than we had earlier. My whole body was on fire. This was going to be one helluva fuck.

"Okay, Bryan," I said. "Now, I'm ready for you to fuck. Give me everything you've got. Don't hold back. I can take it. Fucking rail me."

He did. I don't know how long he was in there, but it seemed like a long time. My legs ached. My breath hitched. My dick was, as he would say, jangled. My ass was on fire, radiating heat, in a good way.

Bryan One knew how to fuck. He claimed he pulled a lot of pussy, and he was treating my ass like one.

"I'm getting close," he said, his body coated with sweat and his hair wet with it. I don't know that I have ever seen anything hotter than that dripping Cargo Ship Captain over me, his body slick, his face wracked with pleasure, his eyes wide open and connected with mine.

"Me, too," I said. I wasn't touching myself. I was going to cum from the fucking. I could feel it building, like a dam about to burst.

"Oh fuck," he gasped. "Cum with me! Cum with me!"

I did. As I felt his dick expand and start coating my insides, my dick erupted all over my chest and stomach, untouched, one of the few anal orgasms I've ever had. They're the best. They liquify you.

"Motherfucker," he said, cumming over and over like he had earlier.

"Motherfucker is right," I said, my dick so sensitive I dare not touch it.

Spent, he collapsed onto me, into the cum, surprising me. His lips found mine, and we kissed in exhaustion, our tongues languidly finding each other's.

I don't know how long we laid there like that, but I was almost asleep when I realized we needed to make plans for the imminent morning.

"Yo, Bryan," I said, my hands squeezing his ass cheeks. "Wake up. We need to shower. We're both covered in cum, and you have my ass on your dick. And, we need to figure out tomorrow morning."

He was no longer inside me. He had softened and slipped out.

"Fuck tomorrow morning," he said. "I'll take a later flight. And fuck the cum, I can sleep with it on me. And fuck your ass, I can sleep with that on me, too."

I laughed at "fuck your ass," as he just had. Royally. Charlie was going to black out when he heard about it.

Bryan slid off me, I turned onto my left side, and he slipped his right arm around me, pulled me back into him, and we slept the sleep of the dead, me and my straight boy spooning like lovers.

Part Three

I had a deposition the next afternoon at one, but nothing in the morning. At some point, I don't know when, Bryan moved his 7:15 a.m. flight to 11.

We emerged from unconsciousness around 7, not because we wanted to, but because a family with small children was heading to the Zoo. And, those small children were excited. And loud. I don't know how many times one of them screamed "we're going to the Zoo" as they ran up and down our shared hallway.

"Fuck," Bryan announced, covering his eyes agains the sun. We had not closed the blackout blinds.

"Fuck, indeed," I thought, realizing my ass was as sore as I could remember it being after a fuck. "He railed me," I thought.

l rolled over and was face to face with him.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," he answered.

"How are you this morning?" I asked.

"Pretty fucking good," he answered, surprising me. I had expected straight boy guilt and recrimination. "And you?"

"I'm great," I answered. "I just lived the gay fantasy. I picked up a straight guy and sucked him into oblivion and then let him fuck me into oblivion. It doesn't get any better than that, if you're from my side of town."

"It can and it will," he answered.

With that, he moved his mouth to mine, and started to make out with me voraciously. Our morning breath was terrible, but I was not going to derail this train over such a trifle.

As we were making out, he moved me onto my back. Before I knew what was happening, he was straddling my chest.

Sheepishly, he asked if I would eat his ass again.

"Of course," I answered, shimmying down so he was squatting over my face.

I ate him out from below. He whimpered and shuddered and "oh fucked" and "Oh, Jesus Christ'd" until he couldn't take anymore.

I loved how much he loved having his ass eaten. I also loved how much he let me know how much he loved having his ass eaten.

"I had no idea," he said, his weight — uncomfortably — back on my chest.

"Your ass is an erogenous zone, Bryan," I said. "Is sex about you or her or both of you? If it's about you or both of you, she should embrace your ass. If it's only about her, you should go."

"I think I might want to try sucking your dick," he said, gobsmacking me.

"It's right there," I said, not knowing what else to say.

He didn't adore my body with his tongue. He moved down, settled between my legs, and took my dick in his mouth. It was clear he didn't like it, but he gave it the old college try. He gagged a couple of times, I don't know whether from the act or the depth. After a bit, he stopped, rolled to my side, and said, "I don't know how you love that. I don't think it's for me."

"It's not for everybody," I said. It wasn't. I had gay friends who did not like sucking dick. I don't know how or why, but they didn't.

"But it's for you?" he asked.

I knew where this was headed. "It is," I answered, before rising, going to the bathroom, and returning with a warm washcloth. Gently, I cleaned the cum off his torso and my ass off his dick, and then the cum off my torso.

By the time I was finished, he was splayed in the middle of my bed, his hands behind his head, his legs spread, his dick hard and ramrod straight.

"If you want me to suck your dick," I said, "then you're going to have to tell me."

"Jeremiah," he answered, "I want you to suck my dick. Like it's the last dick you'll ever suck. You'll probably never suck it again. Show me how much you're going to miss it."

"Okay," I thought to myself. "Someone is getting comfortable."

Also, "probably"? That was encouraging.

I did exactly what he wanted. I sucked his dick like it was the last dick I'd ever suck.

I didn't make love to it. I sucked it. Lots of mouth. Lots of spit. Lots of hand. Down, up, twist. Down, up, twist. Down, up, twist.

When he was getting close, which I could tell from how halting his breaths were and from how tense his legs were, I licked the middle finger of my left hand and stuck it in his ass. The way he had stuck his dick in mine.

"Jeremiah?" he pleaded.

"Shut up!" I answered. I had found many prostates in my life, and I found his quickly, working it with my fingertip on the upstroke.

"Oh fuck!" he screamed. "Omigod…. Oh fuck."

His ass clenched around my finger and he let loose a torrent of cum. I mean, it was the 1980 Mt. St. Helens eruption of cumshots. Again, I thought he might be trying to drown me.

When he couldn't take any more, I stopped. He pulled his knees to his chest, rolled to his side, and again whimpered and shuddered.

I moved behind him and held him, stroking his hair.

"Bryan," I asked, softly. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," he answered. "I'm worried you've fucking ruined me. I've never cum like this. Never. How do I go back to basics after this?"

I almost told him he didn't have to go back, that as hot as he was, he'd have no trouble finding asses and mouths in Jacksonville who could work the same magic I had worked on his dick.

I didn't. I didn't think our interregnum had him questioning his history or pondering a different future. I knew he had taken a trip on the wild side, but I thought it was just that, a trip.

"We should get moving," I said, letting him go and making my way to the shower.

I hoped he would join me, but he didn't. He took his turn while I was drying off. I dressed and then watched him dress. When he slid his underwear over his ass, I suspected I'd never see it or that beautiful dick again.

At his car, I told him we could exchange contact information, but we didn't have to. He handed me his phone, and I reciprocated with mine.

"Bryan?" I asked.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"In case we never see each other again, can I kiss you good-bye?" I asked.

He gawked around, made sure no one was looking, and said "sure."

I leaned into his open door and pressed my mouth to his. "Thank you," I whispered into his mouth.

"You smell like cum," he said, smiling.

"I know," I said. "I love it, and I'm going to keep it with me until I can't anymore."

Late that day, my phone dinged. I opened the following text. "That was s'thing else. Never thought I'd do a'thing like that, but glad I did. Thank you."

I texted back. "I'm glad u did 2, especially with me. Any time…."

"We'll see," he answered.

We will.

In the meantime, Charlie enjoyed the play-by-play as much as I had enjoyed the experience. It led to one of our wildest nights ever, but the story of that night is not part of the story of The Cargo Ship Captain.

The end.