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Jack Stratton. New Yorker, writer, foodie, poly, skeptic, dandy, daddy, switch.
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#Rated Arrrrrrrrrrrrr

Fuck Like a Pirate Day

Aye it was a fortnight out of the great horn when the sky opened up, gray and hungry, and tried its best to swallow us up. A storm at deep sea is a sight, I tells ya. As far as the eye can see it was like the great maw of the beast set upon the waves, trashing and wailing like a banshee, lightning flashing in the distance so big you don’t knows if it’s coming from the sky or from the sea. And all those charcoal clouds that rose up into the heavens until the sky looked more like hell.

In the tossin’ and the turning’ it was no wonder half the men were sick as dogs and the dogs aboard were sick as rats and the rats jumped ship days before.

The Capin, he was one of the hardiest, but even he was stuck up in his cabin, fill in’ buckets and green as a frog.

Aye, everyone knows it’s bad luck to have a lady aboard, ‘cept if it’s the Capin’s wife and so it was, she sat under an umbrella I myself had tied to the mast and by day she read dem books she’d brought and by night she watched the rain come down out in the black murky distance nd sighed like it was a poem.

Aye and she was the prettiest thing I’d ever. Dainty little feets and frilly dresses and all, with a pair of tits on her, all smashed together in her French lace. She made my trousers ache, she did.

All through the day go about the doings of the ship, yelling at the lazy and staying out of the way of the sick ones who leaned over and fed the fish their awful choking bile.

I had a boy then, sandy blonde and just his third time out in a real ship. I’d knocked the chip off his shoulder the first day and he’d come creepin’ into my bunk ever after. He was soft like a girl. Soft mouth, pretty too with his eyelashes long and ain’t a hair on his back. And his back was what I saw most of when the wind was so wet we couldn’t do nothing but wait.

He liked it too, though he didn’t admit it. He’s push back when I had him in my bunk, tight and hungry like a slut who’d waited for her man all Summer. Pulling that sandy hair, long as a girl’s, and had him good.

I’d think of her though and imagine it was her cunt. I’d even got a hold of one of her frillies, fresh from the bin and still wet with her stink and I rubbed it on my boy’s neck so when I hunkered over him I could smell it, smell that sweet girl smell on him as I came and came like the cold rain the hit the deck every fucking minute of that damn trip.

Tags: #Rated Arrrrrrrrrrrrr #pirate erotica #writing