Copyright © April 2017 by Theo Fenraven
Note: Times were different then, and kids grew up fast. Our modern laws do not apply to this story.
“Shut the door, lad. You’re letting in a draft.”
He did so and awaited further instruction. They looked pleased to see him, their mouths split in wide grins, their hands on each other. Both sported large erections.
Quill patted the blanket. “Come on then.”
After crossing the room, he crawled up on the bed. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Nothing you won’t like,” Cager said, grasped Wiley’s arm, and hauled him close, so he was sandwiched between them. “Any experience with men?”
He hung his head. “Not much.”
“How about women?”
“A little. People mostly overlooked me.”
“More fools they,” Quill said, licking the back of Wiley’s neck. “You’re a tasty piece. Try him, Cage. He’s like barley sugar, he’s so sweet.”
The captain stuck his tongue in Wiley’s mouth and darted it around. “Hm, you’re right. I think I’ll suck him a bit.” Cager slid down and took Wiley’s prick in his mouth.
Quill fitted his cock between Wiley’s butt cheeks, poking him some but not insisting. “Ever been fucked?”
“It’s time then, but we’ll make it good for you, never worry.”
Wiley felt like he’d died and gone to heaven, not least because the ship’s captain and quartermaster were paying him, the lowest of the low, so much attention. Maybe he didn’t wish himself back in Nassau after all.
They did all manner of pleasurable things in that bed through the afternoon, and when they’d had their fill, and Wiley ached inside and out from their welcome assault, they fell asleep in a tangle, gently rocked into dreams by the ship steadily sailing across a calm sea.
Wiley was awakened by a sharp nudge.
“Get up, boy. It’s dinnertime. Fetch our food.” Quill threw Wiley’s pants at him. “And keep what happened here to yourself, or we’ll keelhaul you.”
“Aye, sir.” He scrabbled into the ratty trousers and rushed out. On the way to the galley, he became aware of an ache in his backside and fought a grin. They had indeed made it good, using scented oil to ease the passage of their dicks. He still hurt, though it was pleasant.
Manny gave him a knowing look as Wiley skidded to a stop beside him, still tying the string around his waist. “Had yourself a fine day, did you?”
“I-I don’t know what you mean.” He brushed the bangs out of his eyes. “The captain and Mr. Quill be wanting their food.”
“Oh, I’ve no doubt of that. I’ll bet they’re starving.” He laughed uproariously, then slapped a piece of salted meat on a tin plate. “Are they eating together?”
“They didn’t say,” he said haughtily and sniffed.
“I’ll assume they are.” He shot Wiley a sharp look. “See you come straight back for your meal after you’ve taken them theirs.”
Wiley said nothing more, and when two plates piled high with food had been placed on a tray, he took it and left. The smell made him salivate. He was very hungry, having missed the midday meal.
In the cabin, the captain and quartermaster sat at the desk, poring over a chart. They wore shirts and breeches but still looked rumpled from their bed sport.
Quill shoved everything aside when Wiley appeared. “Enough for now, Cage. We will not talk about this again.”
“That’s right, because we are going west tomorrow, through the Strait of Florida, and that’s an end to it.”
Quill banged the desk. “Bring it here, boy, then run get your evening meal.”
Wiley’s heart sank. He’d hoped to be invited to stay. “Aye, sir.” He put the tray down and turned to exit.
“Come back after sunset,” Cager said to Wiley’s back.
Wiley smiled and almost floated to the galley, he was so happy.