For Art's Sae

The lads come together.

This chapter has male/male sex content. All characters are over eighteen.

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While the girls were alone in their cabin, the young men were getting acquainted. At first, James, Freddy, and Art squeezed into the one across from the girl's. It was a tight fit for two, let alone three. When Freddy suggested moving to the crew's quarters, the motion carried unanimously. They moved their conclave to the forward section of the yacht.

The crew of three, the two deckhands and the cook, shared a roomy space like an A with the top triangle loped off. That top part was given over to the sail-locker and anchor line storage. There were two bunks on each side of the cabin, so four persons could sleep in comfort there. The fourth was Mr. Bates, Freddy's man. More to the point, there was room enough to swing a cat, if one was available. And plenty of room for getting to know one's fellow passengers.

"To what do we owe our pleasure of your company, James?" asked Art.

"I was swimming, ran out of steam, nearly drown, and was rescued by the angel Mary," James answered.

"Ah, yes. Mary is an angel," Art sighed.

"Are you one of those coves that swim the English Channel and other bodies of water," Freddy asked of his fellow countryman. "If you were trying to make it to Africa, it would have been better to start from Gibraltar."

"Hardly. It was a good day for a swim, and I'd just lost my lodgings," James said

"I limit my swims to tubs of warm water," Freddy said.

"You ran out of the ready? That''s beastly. What do you do?" Art asked, catching the less happy part of James's reply.

James gave the fellows a quick sketch of his past. Enough to satisfy two incurious young men who took things as they came. He mentioned his avocation as an artist who hadn't yet caught on with the public. When asked what his plans for the future were, he said, "I'm thinking about them, but haven't settled on anything as of yet."

"Well, you can stay with me until something catches your fancy," Art exclaimed, giving James a friendly slap on the back."The first thing to do is to get you some clothes."

"I don't want to be a bother," James demurred.

"Nonsense, you can't be running about the boat looking like that," Art insisted. "Freddy, call your man in here to have a look at him. He will know which of my things would suit him best," he said to Freddy. It was fortunate that James was built much along the same lines as Art, though, because of recent circumstances thinner.

Freddy opened the door, leaned out, and called "Bates!"

A moment or two later, the tall gentleman's gentleman appeared at the doorway. "You called, sir?" he asked.

"Take a look at James here. Then go a rustle up some duds that will not disgrace him. Art's clothes should fit him," Freddy requested.

"If I might suggest something which will help me, sir?"

"What is it, Bates?"

"To do a proper job of it, I require a better view of the gentleman, sir. I suggest he remove the baggy sailor uniform," Bates replied.

"Right, ho! Go ahead, James strip to your skivvies," Freddy urged.

"But ..." James began but stopped. What was the use of telling them he wasn't wearing any underclothes? They would not care, nor should he. But he did.

He pulled off the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Turning away from all three watchers, he let down the loose-fitting pants and stepped out of them, leaving them on the deck. Now naked, he turned back around and felt their eyes on him.

"Gosh, you should be in pictures," Freddy exclaimed. When the others looked at him questioningly, Freddy explained, "I mean in the naughtier kind of French postcards. They have men in them, with women. Sometimes more than one at the same time."

"What makes you think of something like that now?" Art asked.

"I don't know. It just popped in my head as soon as I saw James in the nude, don't you know."

Whether it was the talk of naughty pictures or would have happened anyway, James was becoming erect rapidly. He endeavored to cover his boner with his hands and might have been successful if he had three. Since he only had two, his attempt was unsuccessful.

"I can see why my Step-mom was so taken with you," Art told James.

"I wager you're popular with the ladies, aren't you?" Freddy said.

"Not me. I've never had a girlfriend," James admitted.

"Perhaps with certain men then? We are free thinkers here, don't you know," Freddy inquired.

"Not that I've noticed." James blushed at the suggestion. He turned away. While doing so, pulling a muscle in his leg and yelped out in pain. Limping to a bunk, he sat down and began massaging the affected area.

"Mr. James, we are fortunate to have aboard an excellent masseuse. He can work out any kinks your swim has caused," Bates informed the sufferer.

"I don't want to be a bother," James said.

"It will be a pleasure for Jerry. He likes to bring relief," Bates assured.

Freddy and Art shared a look and a grin. "Yes, he would love to help you," Freddy urged. "Bates before getting the clothes, tell Jerry he has a customer."

With his appraisal of James's physique complete and his new commission received, Bates said, "As you wish, sir." Then he disappeared from the doorway, leaving the three young men to themselves.

Art, perhaps because he felt guilty for his part of causing James some embarrassment, started ragging on Freddy about the failure of the day's picnic. First, the disaster of Freddy dropping the food basket in the surf. Then Freddy's constant fiddling with his new camera. Finally, coming to the subject that really bothered Art most. The badgering of Karen to pose for artistic photographs in her bathing suit.

"You can't blame me for that. Mother Nature is to blame. I only wished to document what your sister has been blessed with and add her image to my collection," Freddy argued defensively.

"So you said, repeatedly," Art replied. "How do you suppose that sounds to a girl who expects a marriage proposal? Pretty awful, I imagine."

"I don't see why. If I do say so myself, my collection is one of the world's best. You've seen only my travel albums. You can't judge by that. They don't even register compared to my home collection," Freddy explained.

"I give you credit for not telling my sister that. But the girl you ask to marry doesn't want to be one of a collection. She wants to know you see only her," Art said. He knew this for a fact. Since their trip to the Moulin Rouge, Mary was freezing him out. Damn his eyes.

"Pardon me, sirs. Mr. Bates told me there was a customer here for me," the muscular deckhand Jerry said from the doorway.

"Yes, Jerry. That is the gentleman sitting over there. Meet James. James, this is Jerry," Freddy made the introductions.

James rose to his feet to shake hands. This revealed his total nakedness and his aroused state. He was surprised to see Jerry's reaction since the deckhand had seen him naked before. But Jerry's look of delighted astonishment seemed to belie the fact.

"Thanks for pulling me out of the drink, and then not throwing me in again," James thanked the Saint Peter figure.

"Ha, ha. Oh, pardon me, sir. That was my brother who did the deed. He is my twin," Jerry said, explaining the confusion away.

"Er, well, pleased to meet you," James said, shaking the man's big hand.

"Now, just lay down on your belly, and I'll do you nicely," Jerry suggested.

"On this bunk?"

"That's right, sir. It's my bunk. My brother and me use these two. I'm the bottom, and Tom is the top," Jerry said. Art and Freddy eyed one another and smiled.

James laid out on the bunk, becoming aware of several more muscles that ached. The swim had been more exercise in one session than he'd done in total for months previously. He was also aware of his boner pressed against the blanket beneath him. Despite his protestations, he was eager to experience his first massage.

Jerry's large hands were surprisingly gentle at first. The touch wasn't precisely a tickle but on the edge of it. All along James's back, the fingertips roamed as the sailor explored and charted the tense muscles. His shoulders and upper arms were likewise tested. Then James's calves and thighs were too. With an even lighter touch, James's buttocks were sized up, making him blush brightly.

"Yes, sir. You're tight as a drum. Yes, sir-re," Jerry said, his voice low and throaty.

Jerry began by carefully kneading James's shoulder muscles and upper arms. He moved his strong fingers to the lad's back, loosening up the tightness there. Unexpectedly, Jerry moved to James's scalp, rubbing it and running fingers through the long thick hair. This relaxed James entirely, filling him with a feeling of bliss he wished would go on forever. It was mind-numbing in a good way, better than beer or wine.

It didn't last forever. Jerry turned his attention to the area in the most acute distress, James's legs. The effects of the head massage lingered, dulling his mind somewhat. James didn't notice the aches in his calves until they were gone completely. The muscles there were totally relaxed and pain-free, thanks to the sailor's manhandling. James figured the treatment was surely finished, but he was wrong.

Up the lad's thighs worked the sailor's fingers, until they reached the tight round buttocks. James heard a prolonged, loud intake of breath come from the big man. Timidly at first, the fingers touched the taut flesh. Growing bolder, they squeezed and kneaded the white buns. Jerry even teased the tight puckered hole a couple of times. Each time he did, James slid his cock hard along the blanket atop the bunk. He couldn't help it. It was a reflex reaction.

Art and Freddy were sitting on the bunk across the deck from where the action was happening. Art was absently watching while thinking of his troubles with Mary and his Stepmother.

Freddy was starring intently at the goings-on across the way. He was muttering camera jargon to himself, about f-stops, lighting, shutter-speeds, and such. He held his hands up, framing the scene with his fore-fingers and thumbs composing the two men in imaginary postcards.

Freddy stood up, undid his pants, and slid them down. Putting them down on the upper bunk, he was careful of the creases. He sat back down in his stark white boxer shorts and a white button-up shirt. One hand slid into the fly of his drawers and started fiddling with something in there.

Someone watching Freddy would've noticed something strange about his behavior. Not about his playing with himself. Considering the scene he was observing, that was natural for a percentage of the population. It was the manner of his watching that was odd. He was keeping his eyes closed for most of the time, opening them briefly, and closing them again quickly.

Art turned towards Freddy and saw what he was doing. "My God! What are you doing?" he asked.

"Taking mental snapshots of the two of them. I wish I brought my camera with me," Freddy replied.

"Do you have to masturbate while you do?"

"Oh, am I doing that? I hadn't noticed it. Force of habit, don't you know," Freddy said. He didn't stop. Instead, he took his hardened penis out and rubbed it openly. "The snaps would be the perfect postcards for certain collectors. Not all, that's for certain, but for some. And those collectors would pay a small fortune for them," Freddy explained.

Art nodded. He assumed the collector knew the market better than he did. It wasn't the first time Freddy spoke about the financial side of collecting and the money to be made off of it. Like most people raised in wealth, Art didn't really understand the mania others felt about the making of money. It was always available when he wanted it, and until recently with hardly any strings attached to it. He couldn't understand why Freddy, the son of a Baron, would be so interested in money.

The deckhand began using his hands like cleavers on the naked lad's back. He made rapid chopping motions all over with the edges of his hands. The blows were not painful to James. They were light enough not to hurt but hard enough to almost knock to breath out of him. There was something strangely invigorating about the ordeal, especially when they suddenly ceased.

"Now if you would turn over, sir. So I can do your front," Jerry said.

Despite his earlier embarrassment of his boner, James was now eager for some attention. He didn't know what Jerry had in mind, but he hoped it would include some handling of his throbbing cock. Rubbing it against the blanket was pleasurable, but he couldn't wait to feel the deckhand's magic hands work on the one remaining aching place.

James rolled over onto his back. His cock rose up proud and naked for all to see. For a moment, it seemed Jerry would immediately take hold of it. James watched eagerly as the man's hands moved closer to it. At the last second, the hands moved past it without touching. James let out a sigh. Jerry's hands ended up on James' chest instead and started massaging the muscles there. The only thing touching his aching cock was the front of the sailor's shirt.

James couldn't help but lift his hips off the bunk to slide his cock against the shirt's cotton fabric. It felt so good that he moaned softly and saw Jerry smile. "That's good, sir," the big man whispered.

Freddy was wanking faster and harder now. He was still doing his reverse blinking trick to simulate picture taking. He mumbled to himself, keeping up a running commentary of the action.

Art ignored the man sitting beside him as best he could. The pair in front of him was more difficult to ignore, though. The new guy's cock was huge, and Jerry had the lad where he wanted him. The deckhand was teasing him wickedly. Art found himself becoming aroused by the scene. He remembered being in a similar position himself.

Art shrugged and said to himself, "What the heck." He unzipped his pants and fished out his dick. Soon, two young men were beating off next to each other. Three young lads were striving towards climax, and one older man was loving it.

Jerry was in heaven. He was aware of the audience and what they were doing, even though most of his attention was fixed on the handsome youth laid out before him. The heat of the lad's hard cock rubbed against his chest. He knew the time was coming when the cock would fill his mouth. It would be his payment for a job well done. The only pay he wanted, but he would insist on it. Sometimes clients were shy about giving it, but in the end, they were happy.

He finished the deep massage of the lad's chest and toyed with the nipples. Some clients loved this, some not so much. James seemed to be of the former type if the moans and increased pressure of the cock meant anything. The whacking sounds of wanking came from the other side of the cabin. It was music to Jerry's ears. Precum must be flowing.

Jerry pulled away and, for a few heartbeats, did not touch the lad. It was difficult to resist for as long as that. He grabbed James' shaft with one hand, cupped the lad's balls with the other when he couldn't wait any longer. He opened his mouth wide and engulfed the swollen cock.

"Ahhhh!" cried out the would-be-artist, as he painted the back of the sailor's throat with his cum.

"Ohhh!" came from Freddy.

"Yesss!" came from Art.

They brought themselves off together, watching James' pleasure. Each of them remembering similar times with Jerry.

James couldn't believe how great it felt to have his cock inside a hot, wet mouth. He just wished it could have lasted a whole lot longer. The big man swallowed the load completely, then continued sucking for several minutes afterward. Only, quitting when the cock deflated.

There was a knock on the cabin door. It swung open, and Mr. Bates entered. In his hands, he held the clothes he'd picked out for James. "These should be suitable for the young gentleman," he announced. He surveyed the space with a slightly disapproving expression on his face.

"It's no good giving us that look, Bates. We were just getting acquainted with our new friend. There is nothing like a little ice-breaking session for putting everyone at ease," Freddy said in a worldly tone.

"Just as you say, sir. Dinner will be ready in an hour and a half," Mr. Bates said as he put the clothes hangers on a hook. "If that's all, sir?"

"Yes, that will be all, Bates."

After the man closed the door behind him, Art chuckled softly. "We really did almost ruffle his feathers this time. You've really got to hand to him, being able to take sights like these in stride," he said, gesturing at the three of them sexually spent, with their dicks exposed.

"It is his professional duty, and he's one of the best," Freddy said. "Did Jerry get the kinks out, James?"

"And how! Did he ever?" came the reply from the young artist. Looking up at the strong sailor, he said, "Thank you very much."

"It was my pleasure!" replied Jerry. "Whenever you feel the need, I will be here for you, sir." He gazed longingly at the lad's sleeping cock. "That goes for all of you."

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