My name is Chris and I'm a Merchant Marine. I'm 28 years old, in good shape, handsome, and friendly. I'm usually sailing as Second Mate, or Navigator, with my union, but I will freelance on my off time if the money is good. I had just finished the best job I'd ever had which is where this story comes from. I was 2nd Mate on a container ship that ran between Honolulu, Long Beach CA, Oakland CA, Tacoma WA, and then back to Honolulu. Talk about a Milk Run. The ship was very large, about 250 meters, but the crew was 25 persons. There were people from all of the various unions in the industry and from all walks of life. I would stand watch on the bridge for four hours at a time, twice a day. In this instance, I stood the 0400-0800 and the 1600-2000 watch. It was always myself and one other person on the bridge acting as helmsman and lookout. When I got to the ship to start my tour, my watch partner was an Able Seaman named Dave. Dave is a little older than I am, shorter than my six foot, skinny and black. He wore so much cologne that you could smell him coming before you could see him, I swear. He was funny as all hell, too. I loved standing watch with him.
Dave is the most vocal homosexual I have ever met. I'd met several gay men in my travels, but Dave just always wanted to talk about sex. It was by far the most prevalent topic of conversation when we were on watch together. I don't think it was because he was hitting on me or anything like that. I think it was because he knew I was straight and he was trying to get under my skin. Push my buttons, so to speak, to try and get a rise out of me. But, it didn't bother me to listen to him describe in great detail his sexual exploits. I found it interesting and new territory to learn about. I've had watch partners who were absolutely silent the entire watch and who would not engage in any conversation at all in the past so I'll take a talkative guy any day of the week, even if all he wants to talk about is butt fucking and sucking cock.
One of Dave's favorite topics was ass licking. "You ever had someone lick your asshole, Mate?" he'd ask. "It's the best!" Or "Say, Mate, if we have some time when we get in port, let's go out to this place I know an get our asses licked! What do you say?" (The unlicensed guys on the ship call us licensed deck officers "Mate", by the way.) Sometimes out of the blue he'd say things like "When you're bottoming for someone, you need to be all slutty and shit, Mate." Or he'd say "You need to be the bottom your first time fucking another dude, Mate. It's the only way to do it right." I didn't know what any of that meant when I'd first met Dave, but I sure knew about it all now. Hell, I could probably teach a class on gay sex at this point.
When we arrived in Honolulu this last time, Dave's relief came aboard and off he went. We were going to be in port for about 20 hours and I'd planned on running ashore to get a pizza and some necessities from the grocery store when I got off watch. I opened the door to my stateroom to change to head ashore and I found a note on the deck. It read:
Mate,
I'm not leaving for a few days so if you want to, meet me at the Hilton and I'll continue your education.
Dave.
I'd not been laid in months and so the offer intrigued me a bit and I did consider it for several minutes, but I pushed that thought out of my mind and went about my business.
As we neared Oakland, the Captain received word that my relief will be meeting us in the next port. My time was up and although I was enjoying myself on this ship, I was also looking forward to taking a few months off. When we picked up our bar Pilot outside the Golden Gate, we were told that we would have to anchor for about 18 hours as there was no berth available. My relief would be coming out as soon as we were anchored up and I could be off the ship by noon. I knew that the water taxi would be going to and from San Francisco, so I called my academy roommate who lived in San Francisco and told him I'd be in town.
He told me that him and his girlfriend were going out of town on Friday for the weekend but would I do him a solid favor and stay in his apartment while they were gone and mind his cat for them. I had nothing better to do, so I agreed. I headed over to their apartment as soon as I got ashore, we went out to dinner and drinks that night, and in the morning, they left.
I fed the cat her breakfast and I went out for a walk. It was a gorgeous day in San Francisco, so I just ambled around with no destination in mind.
I passed a pot dispensary and I thought "I'm not going to be drug tested for at least 3 months" so I went inside. A friendly fellow behind the counter asked me some questions about what I was after and 20 minutes later, I chewed up an edible with 25mg of THC in it.
It was about 11 o'clock at this point so I resumed my stroll around town. About 30 minutes later I could really feel the edible take effect and I soon remembered one undeniable fact about marijuana and me: It always gives me the worst cotton mouth. I had quickly become incredibly thirsty. Luckily, I was walking by a little hole-in-the-wall bar that had an open sign in the window.
It was a small place, only 5 or so stools at the bar and there were only 2 people in the place. A bartender and another man occupying one of the bar stools. I ordered a beer, showed my ID when asked, and took a long drink. Man, it tasted good. It made me realize just how high I had gotten from the edible.
I had just set the now half empty beer on the bar when the man on the barstool said "Well, you look like a thirsty young man!" He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and shorts with flip flops. If I had to guess his age, he was probably mid thirties. He had a thick mustache and jet black hair.
I smiled. "Yea, I was dying."
"Well, we're not going to let you die in here, that's for sure," he said and stuck out his hand. "I'm Ken." He nodded toward the bartender. "He's Scott."
I shook his hand and introduced myself and nodded toward Scott. Over the next three beers, we made small talk. They wanted to hear all about what it was like on the ship and to sail around the world. There was a pool table in the bar and Ken suggested we play a bit. Sure, why not.
"Let's make it interesting," he said. "Loser has to buy the shot, but the winner gets to call what the shot is. Deal?" Sure, why not.
After three games and three shots (plus a few more beers and an extra shot or two), I was feeling no pain at all and really enjoying myself. I don't remember what we were talking about but Ken told me that this was actually a gay bar. "Well, actually," he said," every bar in San Francisco is a gay bar if you get right down to it. "
Which made me bring up Dave and all his stories and the conversations we had on the ship. I even told him about the note Dave had left me and how I'd considered taking him up on his offer. "But I didn't want to have sex with someone that I might run into again on a ship, you know?" I said. "It doesn't seem like a good idea for someone under me on the ranking order to have that kind of knowledge about me. Know what I mean? It's very possible I would see him again on some ship and it would be very awkward for me."
He smiled and said "Would you consider doing it if there were no strings attached and no one would ever know you had sex with another guy? Someone you just met and would never see again, maybe?"
I realized I'd just painted myself into a corner. "Well, um..I...um"
He said "I'll make you a deal. If I win this game on this shot, we go back to my place and I'll show you what your friend was talking about." There were five balls on the table. He'd have to make them all in succession to win. "If not, then we'll drop the subject and just drink some more."
I thought a moment and said "Deal. If you make these five balls in right now, I'll do it."
He smiled broadly and then proceeded to make all five balls. Fuck.
I turned and walked to the bar and laid a bunch of money down for our drinks. Then I turned to Ken and said "Let's go."
We made our way to Ken's place, just two blocks away. He lived on the second floor of a small house. I followed him through the front door and up the stairs. His place had a small bathroom, a small kitchen, a sitting room and his bedroom. Without a word he guided me to the bedroom and started to take off his clothes. I just stood there not knowing what to do for a few seconds.
"Well, come on. We can't fuck with your clothes still on, dummy." he said.
I quickly stripped as he did as well. I was high as hell and pretty drunk but the minute I was naked I could feel my cock harden.
Ken walked over to his nightstand and opened the drawer. He pulled out a pinkish bottle and threw it on the bed. Then he held out a small, brown bottle with black top on it toward me. "This is poppers. Ever heard of it?" he asked. I could see his cock sticking straight out from his body. He had a chest of short, black hair and didn't have any pubic hair at all.
"No," I replied. "What's that?"
"It's amyl nitrate," he said as he unscrewed the top of the small bottle. "You sniff it like this." He held it up to his nose, closed one nostril, and breathed in deeply. He closed his eyes and exhaled. "You get a nice head rush, you'll get a little flushed, and it will relax you." He held out the bottle to me. "Try it. It's perfectly harmless, I promise."
I took the bottle from him and looked at the liquid inside. Ken closed the distance between us, reached down, and gently grabbed my cock and began to stroke softly. "Do six deep breaths in each nostril in quick succession," he told me.
One after another, I took deep hits of the poppers. I could feel the blood rushing to my face and feel the heat in my cheeks. My brain went fuzzier with each hit. When I'd finished the last one, he took the bottle from me, put the cap back on, and tossed it onto the bed. He continued to stroke me as he said "How's that feel?"
"Wow," I said in a daze. I felt his hand take mine and bring it to his cock. It was hot to the touch as I began to stroke his member. I looked down at it. His balls hung low beneath his length. His cock was close enough to mine that I could compare his thickness to mine. His was thicker and looked much longer than mine because he didn't have any pubes. It looked to be a good seven inches or more. I could feel the muscle fibers of his cock. There was a dark vein running up one side. The heat coming off it surprised me. The most notable difference was the cock head. Mine was thick and bulbous, his was pointed. Almost sharp looking.
His hand kept stroking me and his other found my nipple. He traced lightly around it. I breathed in deeply, a slight moan escaped my lips. "Feels good, doesn't it," he breathed.
"Fuck yea," I replied, still mesmerized by the sight of his cock in my hand.
"Good, " he said and released his grip on me. "Get on the bed, on all fours."
I made my way around and climbed up on the bed. He put a few pillows under my midsection and then had me lay down with my legs spread wide. He then had me reach back with both hands and spread my ass cheeks apart. I felt a cold sensation on my anus.
