Tramp Steaming Ch. 03: Austin

I could turn my head and see the snaking line leading from outside the open cabin door to the rear of the bed. They each were inside me more than once. And I could see that Christophe was in the room too—not only observing it all, obviously spinning another story for me to "inform" on the morrow, but also taking his turn in the fuck. I guess he wanted to be able to include the perspective of one of the gang bangers.

They were of different sizes and techniques and forcefulness. At the beginning I was counting just to have something to do while they were doing me, but I lost count. So I started visualizing the crew members in my mind, trying to deduce how many I had been fucked by and how many there were. Maybe they all weren't tops for men. But that was fruitless too—I soon saw that when a man pulled out of me, he just went to the back of the line to have another turn—and then another. This went on through most of the night.

I looked for the captain and the three mates, but, even though there was enough moonlight coming through the single porthole over the bed to discern one man from another in the line, I couldn't see any of those four. I was to subsequently find that we were on a five-night rotation during the fifteen-day sail between Fiji and Pago Pago. Captain Thorensen claimed me on one night, the crew got me on another, and a third night, one or more of the mates "entertained me." Two nights in the rotation were designated for rest, but Christophe usually claimed one or both of those for himself. Austin told me that he also was in the same rotation, so none of the crew members went long without sex with one or the other of us.

In the second rotation, I was imprisoned by rods on my back, a rod holding my throat down; one above my head, trapping my arms; and a couple under the small of my back, raising my pelvis. Then, the first time I noticed them, my legs were spread and raised and tied off on hooks in the cabin's ceiling by restraints. I had been pulled down to the foot of the bed, where I found the footboard collapsed down. The crew members just lined up between my spread legs and fucked me missionary style for hours on end.

In the third rotation, I wasn't bound. I was handed around for the crew members—all stronger than I could have resisted even if I tried—to take me in positions of their choice, either singly or in pairs—the pairs being either both an ass and a face fuck at the same time or a double penetration.

The mates were even rougher with me than the other crew members were. And, of course, there was Captain Thorensen and his specialties. As the days dragged on, some of the individual crew members were brave and forward enough to pick me off during the day, drag me somewhere, and have their way with me. The mates, though, did try to keep this to a minimum—although sometimes they indulged themselves. For the most part, they only demanded blow jobs. It usually was all they had time for, and "getting it off" was what they focused on.

During it all, Christophe kept making observations, taking notes, and writing stories that did, in fact, make me melt at reading the reenactments and embellishments of what I was being used for onboard the Pitcairn.

One night I was in such a state of arousal after reading a gang bang sequence in one of his stories that I sat in front of the computer panting and pulling at my hard cock while Christophe embraced me from behind, ran his tongue up the side of my throat, and thrumbed my nubs with his thumbs.

"I do believe that the crew night visits to you are more satisfying to you than anything else you've experienced since you've been with me." When I didn't demur, he laughed and whispered, "You are such a slut for it." Then he pulled me over to his bed and fucked the stuffing out of me. I found I couldn't disagree with anything he said or did that night.

The men just evaporated after the first crew night. The rods were being pulled out of the bed slats, relieving the cramping I was beginning to feel. I sat up in the bed. The ship was stabile now, past the turbulence of the departed squall, but I had no idea how long the seas had been calmer. I looked up to see that all the men were gone—or nearly most of them. There was one man standing in the open door to the corridor.

"Austin?" I said. "Is that you?" Although I could only see him in shadow, I didn't know of any of the crew members who were that slender.

"Are you OK?" he asked, coming into the room. "I wasn't here. None of this was—"

"I didn't think you were here. But why are you here now? The captain. I thought—"

"He'd had a rough time with the squall earlier today. That pretty much wore him out. He's asleep. Hardly did anything to me. I thought you might need some attention."

"I got just about all the attention I could handle," I answered. I tried to smile. I was rubbing the back of my neck and the backs of my knees. The pain there rivaled that in my ass. I had no idea how many men had been inside me how many times. It was just more than I'd taken ever before. Far more. I could almost be grateful to Christophe and the captain for having opened me up so much with the fist fucking.

And, I didn't want to admit, it had me on a high. I'd taken them all. They had all wanted me, and I'd taken them all.

"I don't mean that kind of attention," Austin said. "I brought some lotion." He held up a bottle of it to prove he had it. "This stuff helps with me. If you'll lie on your back on the bed, I'll do what I can to take the sting away."

With a groan, I did so, and he came over, let the high side slat down—with me being surprised to learn that they all came down—and sat beside me on the bed.

"My muscles ache. What I really could use is a good body massage."

"I can handle that too," he said soothingly. He raised his other hand to show that he had a bottle of massage oil too. But that wasn't all he had in that hand. I saw the packets of condoms before he could tuck them between the mattress and the bedsprings.

"Hey, what the—?" I started to say.

"Shush," he whispered, putting a finger to my lips. "I promised I'll take good care of you. Turn over on your belly."

I did so, but my mind was racing. Had I guessed wrong? Was Austin versatile—a top as well as a bottom? Did I really want to be fucked again tonight, even if it was by Austin? Especially if it was by Austin. Although I was confused about what I wanted from him, I hadn't really thought that what I wanted was for him to fuck me.

But then he was dribbling the oil on my back and starting to massage my shoulder muscles, my arms, my back, and my thighs. I felt the other lotion, cool to the touch, streaming into my crack, and he was massaging me there too, gently rubbing the lotion over my buttocks and into the crack, massaging my rim. More lotion dribbled into the crack and down into my hole, and he was gently pushing it inside with a finger and gently massaging the first few inches of my channel.

With a moan, I raised my hips a bit, rising on my knees. If he mounted me now and fucked me, I'd gladly welcome him—even though I hadn't thought of him in these terms.

But he didn't. "Turn over," he said, his voice sounding shaky.

"I don't think I can." I answered.

"Because you're hard?"

"Yes, because I'm hard. Because there's nothing we can do about it."

"Of course there's something I can do about. Flip over."

I did so, and he wrapped a lotion-covered hand around my cock and begin stroking me slowly. I arched my back and moaned. His other hand massaged my chest and biceps, paying particular attention to my nubs. I could have sworn he was wearing shorts when he was standing in the door, but he was naked now, and in erection.

"You're going to jack me off?" I asked.

"More than that. I'm going to ride you."

"But . . . oh shit!"

He had taken my cock in his mouth and was deep-throating it. He took both my breath and anything I could say away, as I held his head between my hands and helped his mouth cavity rise and fall on the cock. The hand he wasn't massaging my chest with was busy cupping, separating, squeezing, and distending my balls, making me ache to shoot off.

Cock throbbing, needing to explode, I lay there moaning and murmuring, "But I don't . . . I can't . . . it's not what . . ." as he rolled a condom down my cock.

"Tonight you can and you will. I know you want me this way."

And then he was straddling my pelvis and lowering his ass on my cock. He felt tight and warm and I felt the muscles of his passage walls caressing my hard cock, undulating over the staff as he sank on me. I cried out and shot my load.

"Sorry. I said I couldn't . . ."

"But you proved you could. You did," Austin whispered, lowering his chest on mine. Our lips found each other and we kissed deeply. "We have the rest of the night," he whispered. "You can fuck me. You can be the top with me. I knew you could. Deep down, I think you knew it too."

And the surprising thing is that I found he was right. I never had considered that I could top a man. From the time my father's boyfriend initiated me, it had always been the man inside me. I had never considered I could top. But the funny feeling I'd had about Austin. It's because I'd wanted something different from him. I wanted to fuck him.

"But it was so fast," I murmured.

"The next time won't be," he answered, kissing my cheeks and my throat. Moving his lips down to my nubs.

The next time I thought, already feeling myself harden again just at the thought of it.

Austin laughed deep in his throat. "And the next time after that."

The next time came right away, with him rising back up on his knees and beginning to pump his passage on my cock again, riding me like a cowboy. This time I held out longer and he came up my belly before I ejaculated again.

I took charge the third time—coming after we had dozed and when the light of dawn was beginning to permeate the cabin through the porthole. He pulled the spent condom off me. I reached for another condom packet, but Austin grabbed my hand.

"No, not this time. I want it all from you. I want you to come inside me."

I rolled over on top of him, his belly to the bed. He raised his buttocks to me, and I fucked him hard and deep—fully in command—into the new day.

So, this was the way I found out I could top—and that I wanted to top Austin. In fact, my mind went back over the years since James had initiated me to sex and I realized that there had been others in my past that I had reacted to more from the role of a top than a bottom—I just hadn't known then what I wanted from them.