(This story takes off where Panama stopped. If you have not read 'Panama' this tale will seem to start in the middle. If you click on Mikey2Much it will show you a listing of all my stories, and you will have no trouble finding the first installment. It was fun to write and I hope that it will be fun to read. As with every other writer on this site we all would like a vote or even better a comment.)
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The day started hard for Scotty. Four o-clock had happened within seconds of his head hitting the pillow. It seemed as though he had barely got into the bunk before his alarm went off in his ear. Unsuccessfully, the young man tried to blink the sleep from his eyes as he sat up in his bunk. He fell back onto his back after hitting the light switch, an arm thrown across his eyes as the light burned a path to his brain.
Then he remembered Francesca, the events of last night. Her skin had been so smooth and warm. Her smile filled his thoughts as he slipped back into sleep.
"Wake up," the voice hammered into his head like a blunt nail. A hand the size of a catcher's mitt shook his shoulder. His wide opened eyes were looking at a giant black face full of white teeth. "Cookie will have your hide if you late."
Scotty drew back in fear and then recognized the ship's steward, Gus. In a flash he realized that he had gone back to sleep. A quick glance at the clock told him that he should've been in the galley ten minutes ago. The old negro man was right.
"Thanks, Gus, I owe you one," Scotty said as Gus gave him a helping hand, pulling the younger man up and out of bed. He was surprised to see that Scotty slept in the nude, equally surprised at how hairless his body was.
"No problem, Mister Scotty," Gus replied as he headed off down the passageway.
Scotty was late. He could come back and dress right when he got a chance. Right now he had to shit and get! He inserted his legs into his jeans without benefit of underwear. Slipping on his Keds without benefit of socks, he was buttoning his shirt as he left his room. He rushed down the passageway to the crew's restroom where he took a leak and splashed water on his face, combing his hair with his fingers. Everything else would have to wait. Half awake he made his way up to the galley where Cookie was waiting. . Cookie had seen this all before, he was wise in the ways of men and knew exactly what was going on with the boy. Last night had been his first drunk and first woman, this morning he was enjoying his first hangover.
"Scotty make a pot of coffee and then get started chopping up these onions and bell peppers". Cookie waited to see that the boy was paying attention and then continued. "When you are through with those things let me know and I will give you other jobs. Go now, you are starting the day running behind, we don't have much time." Turning to go about his own duties, Cookie couldn't help the way the boy felt, breakfast had to be ready when the men arrived and it didn't matter how you felt.
Scotty started with the coffee pot, a huge stainless steel urn that held enough coffee to fill the cups of the twenty men who would have their breakfast that morning. His mind was so busy remembering the events of last night that he had a hard time concentrating on the task at hand. "Francesca," he said the word aloud, wondering what she was doing right this minute. She would still be in her bed, warm and soft beneath her blankets. God! If only he could be there with her.
When he had managed to fill the tank with water and to fill the basket with the right amount of coffee, he hit the button. Instead of going to his next job he decided to wait just a moment and get a cup of java for himself. This had the extra attraction of giving him a few minutes to think of Francesca. The memory of her skin beneath his hand, the feel of her breast, he let his mind wander over her body the way his hands and eyes had the night before. He felt his erection as it tried to force its way down his leg.
Grabbing a mug he filled it with the hot brew and took a careful sip. Coffee was still new to the boy since his father wouldn't let him drink it until after he had passed his eighteenth birthday. Too hot, after burning his tongue he cooled it down with some cold milk and took another mouthful. His head seemed to be throbbing with his heartbeat, his eyes wouldn't focus clearly, the brightly lit galley was too much for them to handle this morning. Someone had told him that sugar helped a hangover. He dumped a generous amount into his coffee, grabbed a large knife and went to the cutting board where the onions and peppers waited for him.
Cookie had two other young men to supervise but he had been doing this for years. He was everywhere, looking over shoulders as well as watching from across the room. He was aware of what each man under his control was doing at all times. It was a small miracle the new boy still had all his fingers. He rushed over to where Scotty was working.
"Stop!" Cookie spoke the word into the young mans ear as he reached around him to hold the hand with the knife. "Stop, you watch, "he stepped next to the boy, "never make knife come to body. Knife always go away, always cut away." Scotty let the older man's hand slip inside his own to take the knife handle. The words that the cook spoke were a bit awkward but his hands in motion, the knife flashing brightly, was art in action. Using a rocking and chopping motion the cook had finished the task in a minute that would have taken Scotty much longer to do. "I finish here, you go to officer's mess, check on fruit and set up side board."
Scotty squeezed by the cook, painfully aware of his erection as it rubbed across the cook's ass. Once free of the small space he moved as quickly as he could to get around the corner into the small hallway that separated the officer's dining room from the hustle and bustle of the galley. Once he passed into the shadowy privacy of that small space, his hand went down the front of his pants and grabbed his cock. It started as a simple rearrangement but somehow he still had his hard dick in his hand and his hand deep in his pants when he entered the officer's dinning room. No big deal if the room was empty like he thought it would be.
But on this morning it wasn't.
The Boatswain, Frenchy, and a stranger sat at a table having a cup of coffee. The night was hot and the air thick with humidity and insects. The three men had sought refuge here in this dark room, with the light out they could leave the screen less portholes and door-hatches open. A floor fan waved the air around in the room creating a cooling breeze but it made such a rattling racket that it discouraged conversation. Enjoying the respite from the bugs and the warm comfort of the hot mug of coffee, the three friends had lapsed into silence when the boy came in.
The boatswain watched the youngster walk bowlegged into the room, his hand stroking his dick inside his pants. The kid took three steps into the room and stopped. He was perfectly backlit by the light from the galley as he began to slowly stroke himself. The boatswain quietly sat back and smiled contently. He was willing to let the boy make a fool out of himself, even willing to take advantage of the fact. The boy leaned against the bulkhead and opened his jeans, pulling his hard cock and his balls through the opening. He made a gentle thrusting motion with his pelvis as he slowly and sensuously stroked his smallish cock. Even though he was stroking his dick, he still came across as being very feminine. The boatswain found himself looking forward to this trip more and more.
Frenchy knew it was his new friend, Scotty, as soon as he walked into the room. He didn't know why he held his voice but he did. In silence he just sat there and let the boy go, knowing what this might mean to his future here on the ship. This kind of thing always had a price to be paid and it was always a high price. Frenchy had seen this kind of thing before. Well, there are friends and there are friends with fringe benefits. As Frenchy watched Scotty sway and thrust as he stroked his cock, he mentally moved him from the former to the latter designation.