Saturday Morning Fever Ch. 04

At first, I was afraid my extracurricular, penile adventures had been discovered.

Warm weather finally made its way to Boston, but more changed than the season. My wife came home from a third extended trip to the Memphis hospital she had been temporarily staffing. She was distant and quiet, and finally broke down in tears in our kitchen.This is it,I thought,she knows about my cock cravings.But I was shocked as Julie confessed she was in love with a young surgeon she met in Tennessee and asked for a divorce. Staying together was not fair to me because her career took up so much of her time, we should split before we had any kids, and so on.

Always practical, that was my Julie. Her uptight family never fully accepted me anyway, and still viewed me as the skateboarding slacker I was in college. Julie was Asian, and I filled the need for her to rebel a little against her family, marrying an average Caucasian guy when there were so many clean cut, studious, eligible young men of Taiwanese ancestry available. I inwardly promised myself no more men and fought the split for a couple weeks, but I could tell she was miserable while away from her new love, who she frequently sexted while she thought I was asleep. While she was in the shower I got into her phone after two password attempts. I tearfully scrolled through their conversations, laced with selfies of her flashing, showing off her bush, butt or those big brown nipples. I guess acting like a teenager relieved some of the stress of her job. I had apparently overdone it when I encouraged the shy young woman I first met to be a little slutty and assertive She had already been blowing this guy, based on the comments about an out of focus pic of his hard dick, dripping with jizz.

Of course if anyone was now aware of the addicting, knee-weakening craving for stiff, sperm gushing dick, it was me. It nearly consumed my thoughts ever since I got a taste in the alley that morning, and the cravings only grew worse with time. A couple months later she had moved away to start having dark-haired babies with Dr. Charm and I had rented a small apartment out in the suburbs. I could have moved back to the Pittsburgh area, but thought I would stick around Boston a while longer for two reasons. Yes, those two reasons were the gorgeous, throat- and-asshole-wrecking cocks of Mike and Jake. It was worth staying nearby even if I was only able to hook up with them a few times a year. Later I had begun to doubt my decision, as email efforts most of the spring to arrange a meeting with one or both of the muscular twin HVAC repairmen had been thwarted by one thing or another. I was considering anonymous online hookups when finally I got a cryptic invite to an early summer 'fishing trip' on a 'customer's boat'.

The wait until that distant Saturday seemed to take forever, and I was horny as hell, barely able to resist jerking my solidified meat each morning the final couple weeks. I looked forward to having it sticking out, feeling its burning ache while I sucked or was penetrated by one or maybe both of the guys. Unsure of who else was invited, and exactly how much actual fishing would occur, I still researched the web to catch up on the saltwater sport, having not been since I was a kid. Armed with my new knowledge, I finally arrived before sunup at a marina near Weymouth, parking my beat up Hyundai among the shiny Escalades, Volvos and Audis.

The boat was about three times bigger than what I expected. The power yacht, named 'Technical Foul' was a massive cabin cruiser, at least sixty feet long. Its design looked a little older than some of the spaceship-looking craft alongside the piers, but its chrome railings sparkled in the floodlights of the yacht club. We were greeted by the owner, "Captain Chuck", I was to call him. Also aboard was his stepson Tyler, who at that moment was busy on the bow releasing the lines from the dock.

Captain Chuck was about sixty, gray, lanky and very tall, with an executive's diction. He was not a native Bostonian, as his accent had a country twang to it. I assumed he was a former pro ball player, but understandably wanted to remain somewhat anonymous. He abruptly disappeared up a ladder to pilot the boat soon after the introductions.

Dark-haired Tyler, by contrast, was maybe twenty, and, based on his unkempt, longish hair and excess weight, was probably a dedicated video gamer. He looked uncomfortable in his tightly fitting nautical white pants, jacket, and polo shirt.

With a rumbling diesel growl from below, we were off as the sun broke the horizon. The air still held a slight chill as Tyler, the twins and I stood on the stern deck, sipped on coffee and made loud small talk over the vibrating drone of the engines and the wind as the boat plowed past small wooded islands and away from the lights of the shore.

I wondered what role I would play, or more specifically, how we would be passed back and forth between the twins. I assumed Tyler was a dick lover like me, and the extremely understanding step dad was providing a private venue for the satiation of the young man's needs. I was looking forward to watching and helping Tyler service Mike and Jake, whose balls I hoped were overfilled and ready to pump out buckets of sperm.

My three shipmates seemed familiar enough with one another that this was definitely not their first meeting. The chunky guy, his dick bulging commando in his somewhat sheer white pants, seemed more relaxed as the shoreline receded, reacting a little effeminately but enjoying the arm punches, ass grabs and titty twisters issued by the twins. Tyler's brown eyes were nearly always fixed on the two large men, frequently in the direction of their crotches. I was sure his mouth was watering as badly as mine. Mike and Jake's muscular frames, fully capable of holding a squirming throat or hips with calloused hands in the exact position they desired, were even more apparent in their board shorts and lightweight jackets, compared to the heavy winter clothes I had seen them in before.

I began to wonder what we were waiting for, as the boat was sufficiently away from shore that even on this outside deck, we could both be sucking the twins' cocks and no one could see. That question was answered when the two blonde men took selfies and texted home, to reinforce the fishing premise of the trip. My visions of a stateroom foursome orgy were interrupted when the horn blew a few times. I then was told to go visit the flying bridge, where Captain Chuck was steering us out into the Bay.

2

I thought I might be making new acquaintances on this voyage, but was I invited specifically to meet the Captain? I was pleasantly surprised but apprehensive. I hoped he would like me. Maybe I was just supposed to get him more coffee or something. My pulse raced as I climbed the ladder and arrived on the bridge. It was lit only by instrument lights and GPS screens, surrounded on all sides by clear plastic curtains. The engine noise was lower, so it was a little easier to talk. He already had coffee, so this wasn't just an errand.

The Captain, seated in a bar stool-height padded chair, smiled as I thanked him again for inviting me. The conversation was personal but not flirtatious. We had small talk about where I was from and my experience on boats, which was limited to a few comical attempts at waterskiing while in college.

For all his apparent wealth and CEO-like confidence, he seemed a little uncomfortable as the polite chat stalled. Still nervous and relatively new at these gay encounters myself, I then wondered if maybe this was a first time for Chuck, being set up with a guy. He did have on a wedding ring like the twins. Maybe the discord was my fault, since, due to his age, I was talking to him the same way I spoke to some of my older bosses or my ex's parents.

"Well, it's...gr...great to be here," I said, stuttering. "I've looked forward to this for weeks. I'm really excited to meet you, but pretty...nervous. " I said, an innocent enough and true statement to break the silence, still standing next to his chair so we could speak at one another's ears over the wind. The pink sky now lit our upper bodies.

"Well, I'm glad you're here as well," he replied, "I'm nervous too, to be honest. This is something really...differentfor me, if you know what I mean. I've been looking forward to meeting you. Mike and Jake were sure we would hit it off because they said you're alot of fun," he said with a grin, placing a large hand on my deltoid as his other hand kept its grip on the large chrome pilot wheel. "Don't be nervous Phil."

"Okay, Thanks! You either!" I replied. This surprise set up was better now, if a little slow.

I liked Chuck's touch, but it was still a little tentative. The Captain seemed to want to drag things out, to tease both of us into a frenzy. Maybe it was just too damn early to get right into things, after all he was steering a yacht that cost ten times what my parent's house did. I decided I would follow his lead.

Again things seemed to stall until he had an idea. "Ever driven anything this big before?"

Obviously I answered 'no' and in moments was standing at the helm. He was close behind, leaning against his chair, his long feet on either side of mine. Sure, no problem piloting the boat. It was like trying to drive a house around with a steering wheel placed in a second story window, and all the gentle turns he had me make, his hand unnecessarily on mine, happened in slow motion.

Soon both of my hands were covered by his large ones, and of course it meant he was standing behind me, his pelvis rubbing up against my backside. Seeing his weathered hands and gray arm hair, it reminded me of a long-forgotten incident my first year in college, when an acquaintance's wasted, groping uncle practically molested me while providing unsolicited 'coaching' on my tennis serve. Nothing ultimately happened, but I recalled the fear, creepy discomfort, and yes, on reflection, a spark of perverted thrill after that brief encounter. I realized that may have been the effect the Captain was seeking, subconsciously or not. Maybe something similar had happened to him in his youth. Regardless of the reason, my cock happily began to grow.

The warm sun in my face felt good, and we saw some gulls diving for breakfast. A few minutes later, the yacht's owner retreated back to lean against the chair. Telling me I was doing a great job, the Captain then placed a hand on my hip, then a second. He slipped a couple fingers under the hem of my hoodie and shirt, touching my bare skin, then pulled them back as if it was an accident. In a moment his fingers returned, this time probing the along waistband of my shorts, gauging how much play there was in the elastic and discovering I wore no underwear. It seemed a lack of either a protest or approval from me implied some type of reluctant complicity, so I kept navigating, cock almost hard, and eventually felt cooler air on my upper butt.

I didn't respond, not wanting to break the subtle, manipulative protocol. I kept steering with my shorts lowered in the rear, feeling exposed but excited. His hands held my bare hips, then he gradually began running them all over my midsection, his fingers passing through the hair on my stomach, and diving down to my pubes momentarily, Then he proceeded upward to my shoulders, then around through my armpit and chest hair to my nipples, which hardened as his fingertips repeatedly passed over them. My cock was fully stiff now and jolting in my loosened shorts.

In the midst of his tugging and pinching play, one of his hands slid back down inside my shorts, and they fell down to my thighs, held up only by my hard dick. He began to knead my ass cheeks, which felt terrific.

There was still no dialogue between us, and nothing really needed to be said. Next there was a finger sliding up and down in between my exposed cheeks and it was getting difficult to concentrate on the compass to maintain our course. I moaned and leaned forward as what felt like a knuckle pressed against my hole. My chest was now against the wheel. I managed to grab the tube of K-Y out of my hoodie pocket, and held it up for him to see. I heard a muffled laugh of surprise.

My pulse raced even faster as the lube left my grip. In moments I felt pressure on my hole, and suddenly my sphincter clamped around a slick finger. He probed all around, exploring my rectum as I arched my back and moaned with pleasure. I hoped I didn't run the boat aground or slam into the side of a container ship while distracted.

After twisting his wrist and yanking my hips in different directions with his controlling digit, he slipped a second inside and began to slowly finger fuck me, changing his angle of entry and stretching my hole open randomly. My shorts fell to the deck. Without thinking I flexed my knees and began to rock my hips forward and back, impatiently riding his fingers, my boner slapping the spokes of the pilot wheel.

Suddenly the invaders withdrew, and my empty, lube-dripping hole instantly craved more attention. A few moments later, I was enjoying the what felt like a police baton, both in stiffness and length but enshrouded in silky skin, sliding around on my cheeks. Time to be fucked. I hadn't even seen his dick, but I wanted every inch of it up my ass. My cock throbbed.

As I remained bent over, still steering, my pulse raced as the addictive fever of anticipation overwhelmed me, the thrilling mixture of the expectation of the ecstasy of having a rectum stuffed with dick, and unknown amount of physical exertion that would be required to satisfy it.

After what seemed like forever, but was maybe thirty seconds, my cheeks were spread, my asshole was forced open and I was quickly impaled by the grunting Captain's erection. I moaned loudly, as it felt absolutely awesome and his earlier fingering had apparently relaxed my hole, but not so much as to mask the thrilling, sudden discomfort of stretched sphincter muscles, the undeniable proof that I wasgetting fucked. His cock was nearly as thick as one of the twin's dicks, and an unbuckled belt clasp was digging into my bare ass cheek, so I knew he had driven it in balls deep. The end of his hard meat seemed to be rearranging my intestines, shoving them aside to make room for itself. We both continued moaning over the noise of the wind in an erratic chorus as he pivoted his pelvis in various directions, enjoying the sensation of possibly his first 'boy pussy'. Luckily it wasmypussy, pulsing with pleasure as I tried to keep yacht on course in sunny open water as his lengthy strokes began dragging my throbbing, happily clenching anus back and forth.

As he patiently fucked me in time with the undulating motion of the cruising yacht, the Captain ran his hands all over my body from my upper thighs to my hair, wherever he could reach under my shirt and hoodie, and soon they were tossed onto the floor. He played with my nuts and squeezed my stiff meat, causing me to moan loudly. I was quickly diverted from the urge to stroke it myself when he shifted his position and wrapped one arm around my chest, and the other pressed against my stomach. Suddenly his wet tongue was probing my ear. That, combined with his hot breath and nipple tugs was adding to the chills that were radiating from my abruptly awakened colon.

After a minute or so of this intense wet ear probe, without thinking I turned my head to the side and extended my tongue. I had never really fantasized about kissing another male, but here I was, naked , twenty feet above the ocean, rock hard, a dick up my ass, frantically tasting Captain Chuck's slick, coffee-coated tongue with my own. Our slight facial stubble grazed our noses and upper cheeks as our open mouths exhaled heated breath.

The fully risen sun had warmed the plastic-enshrouded bridge. The Captain shuffled his feet slightly to reach and flip a few switches and throttle down the yacht, and its motors slowed to an idle. His yet unseen but instantly addictive cock was long enough for him to move around a little while almost half of it was still buried in my ass. Finally he broke the self-imposed vow of silence, maybe because the engines had quieted.

"We okay?" He caressed the side of my neck as his slow strokes resumed.

"Awesome!" I responded.

"Sorry, but I couldn't wait any longer to...um...take you." He shoved a little harder just once, subconsciously I guessed, as he said the word 'take'.

I half grunted and half gasped with pleasure and managed to get out "I'm glad you did!"

It was at this point I realized he was probably fucking me like he did women, calmly and affectionately. I didn't care, as long as hekeptfucking me. After living solo for the last three months, I'll admit the human contact did feel nice. I rolled my head around, stretching my neck. "This feelssogood!"

"I'm glad, Philip! Yeah it feelsgreat! I am reallylovin'every second of this, buddy!" he said, his Southern accent evident as he gripped my waist at the hips. His pace increased, and our moans grew more frequent as I could now feel his nuts rhythmically hit me. After a couple minutes, he spoke again.

"Need to take a break or anything?" he asked considerately, maybe because my grunts of pleasure had gotten louder. He paused his thrusts, partially implanted in my hole.

"Hell no!" I said, glancing back and catching a grin from him. Instinctively I began to slide my hips back to meet his, to refill myself with meat. It apparently gave him an idea.

"Hey, let's get you to ride it." He began to lower his chair and at the same time we pivoted sideways, facing the inside of the boat to give us more space. His cock remained within me as the motor on the chair hummed quietly.

A reshuffling of feet placed the Captain's giant Docksiders and long, gray-haired legs close together and straight out in front of me, his white pants, boxers and canvas belt around his ankles. I straddled his pelvis as he slouched in the seat, giving me the perfect angle to ride the hell out of his hard dick.

Captain Chuck held my hips as I bent my knees and began to raise and lower my occupied ass. His hands limited my potentially overzealous upstrokes, and I loved the sense of control as they gripped my bare skin.

The next fifteen minutes or so were an absolute, gratifying, ass-reaming blast. I gradually increased the pace, making three or four strokes to each swell that passed beneath the yacht. My balls and aching hard dick bouncing and flopping, I leaned in various directions, feeling his solid kielbasa plow along the walls of my rectum. Oriented forward, one hand fondling his hairy nuts and one on his thigh for balance, hopefully gave him a nice view of my receptive anus stretched around and traveling the length of his slick shaft in the bright morning light. A shift to the side and slight torso twist meant a new spot in my colon was feeling the extent of his deep incursion, and the Captain could pinch and hold a peaked nipple. Leaning back gave Chuck, who had unbuttoned his white uniform shirt at some point, a chance to hold my face to the side against his hairy collar bone. He glanced at me with his green eyes as I accepted his slippery tongue past my lips.

This nearly prone, upward facing position was tough on my knees and I was working up a sweat on the warm bridge. At this angle, it felt like his cock was trying to drag my prostate gland out of my hole. Between that, the sustained nipple pinches and yes, the deep kisses, my dick, already leaking pre-cum, began to tighten. Call it a freakish talent, but once again embargoing a begging erection for such a long time and then a following cock assault on my prostate was involuntarily forcing my accumulated two week's load to the surface, this time without even a tug from my hand. My breathing grew erratic and I rose up slightly to grind his shaft against just the right spot. As my urethra began to burn I went faster and faster, and I'm not sure the Captain understood what I was doing until I grunted loudly and a large blob of my sperm was airborne, launched into a foot high arch, followed by a few thick jets in random high trajectories. I moaned loudly as the rest also felt terrific and simply flowed out like an overfilled soda, continuously for several seconds, coating nearly my entire jolting erection with translucent white goo which dripped down into my pubes. The wave of pleasure resonated up into my shoulders, and it may have been my longest cum ever.