Date: Fri, 11 Feb 2005 10:50:40 -0800 (PST)
From: Sin Titulo <sintitulo2@yahoo.com>
Subject: Tramp Steamerr

Tramp Steamer
by
Sin Titulo

	When I was finally able to think about retiring, I
looked around and realized that on my pitiful Social
Security income, I'd soon be living hand to mouth
under a bridge somewhere if I stayed in the US.  I
spent some time on the internet looking into other
places in the world that might offer a little more
comfort for my retirement years on the money I'd have.
	The usual, Mexico, Costa Rica, came to mind, but one
night while surfing the web, I chanced on a site for
Bogota, Colombia.  Reading it and looking at the
photos, I got very interested.  Lots of culture, mild
year round climate, in the foothills of the Andes
mountains.  But best of all, at the time, a dollar was
exchangable for $2,885 Colombian pesos.  My Social
Security check would make me a Colombian Millionaire
twice over every month, and some left over.
	It took a while, and some hellacious paperwork, but
the day came when I had all my ducks in a row, and was
ready to try it out.  I decided I wanted to approach
the change in my life at a more leasurely pace, and
booked passage for Buenaventura, Colombia on a tramp
steamer sailing out of Los Angeles.
	When I arrived, at the dock, the place was a bustle
of activity.  It took a while to get permission to
board, because most of the heafty men working hard to
load the last of the cargo containers, didn't speak
English.  With the help of my translating dictionary,
and the few words I'd picked up from a Spanish CD, I
finally found the first mate, and was invited on
board.  He showed me to my stateroom, and I was
surprised at the size and comfortable appointments it
offered.  The mate, spoke some English, and told me
the meal times, and warned me not to get in the way of
the crew when they were working, because the Captain
wouldn't tolerate it more than once.  He showed me the
mess room, and seemed to indicate that I was free to
move about the ship as long as I didn't get in the way
of work.
	We sailed on the early tide, and I'm sorry to say I
slept through it.  I also slept through breakfast at
5:30 AM as well.  By lunch, I was a little more than
hungry.  It consisted of macaroni and cheese, a salad,
and a large mug of coffee, and a table shared with
seven of the heafty crewmen.  We tried to talk, but
before long, they were all but laughing their heads
off at the dumb gringo.  I understood enough to
realize that it was good natured and not meant to be
mean.
	At dinner, the same group tried a little harder to
talk to me.  I decided as we were working on words
that I would be honest with them and tell them I was
gay, after they spent some time asking about my
family, wife and children etc.  I don't think they all
got it immediately, but the two that did, both had
grins spreading across their faces.  I asked if they
were gay, and Jorge, the large black man that was
sitting closest to me answered by reaching under the
table to feel my cock and balls.  I was beginning to
wonder what I'd gotten myself into, when he leaned
over and asked in perfectly good English if he could
come to visit me in my cabin later.
	"Certainly.  It would be my pleasure."  He smiled,
and said something to Manuel, a young Hispanic hunk
with smooth skin who had also grinned at my
announcment.
	"He wants to come too."  Jorge leaned over and
whispered in my ear.
	"Very good.  What time can I expect you both?"
	"Our tour ends at midnight.  We'll see you then."  A
bit late for an old white man, but hey, this was the
rest of my life; right?
	After dinner, I walked around the deck for a time,
and noticed several of the off duty sailors also
strolling around smoking and talking in the balmy
night.  As it got a little later, I turned in to my
stateroom, and took a shower, and put on my robe and
slippers, leaving everything else hanging on a hook in
the latrine.  I figured the two men coming to visit
had just one thing in mind, and wouldn't want to waste
time getting to it.
	I was reclining on my bunk reading a book by Garcia
Marquez, when there was a tap at my door.  I glanced
at my watch, and saw it was only a bit after ten.  I
answered the door, and found a young Hispanic man
wearing nothing but cut off jeans, standing there
grinning at me.  I'd seen him around the ship, but had
not actually met him before.  He said something in
Spanish, and I backed up inviting him in with a wave
of my hand.  He stood in the room, looking around as
if he'd never seen the place before.  I offered him a
drink of the scotch I'd brought with me, and he
nodded.  I poured, and then sat down on the bed, and
handed him his glass.  He tilted his head, and chugged
the alcohol.  He set the glass on the tiny metal desk,
and moved over in front of me, and started rubbing his
crotch.  I chugged my scotch, and moved to set my
glass next to his, and in the process, took over the
job of rubbing something that was rapidly getting
larger in his pants.  He sighed when I touched him,
and thrust his hips at my face.  I got the message.
	Undoing the button on his cutoffs, I let the zipper
slide down enought to let the loose pants fall down
around his ankles. He was as naked as me under his
clothes.  His strong brown body glistened in the
reading lamp light, and his respectable cock had grown
to its full six inches and hard thickness.  I stroked
him a little, letting my nose inhale his earthy
goodness.  He hadn't showered since at least morning,
and his skin had a musky saltyness to it, and he
shivered when I licked across his hairless stomach,
and drew in his breath in a gasp.
	His cock began to throb in my hand, and a gob of
glisening precum emerged from his piss slit, and
drooled over my knuckles.  I licked it off, and then
slipped his engorged shaft into my mouth.  He
instinctively began to hump his hips at my face.  I
let him do the fucking, while I changed the suction
and pressure on his spit shined shaft.  It didn't take
long before he shuddered and grabbed my head in a bear
hug and humped his considerable load into my throat.
When it was finished, he grabbed his cutoffs, and put
his package away quickly, and before I could say
anything, he was out the door and gone into the night.
 I poured myself another scotch, and resumed reading
my novel.  I hadn't gotten more than a few pages
along, before there was another knock at my cabin
door.
	The lad waiting outside in the dark, was a tall thin
negro fellow with nearly purple skin tones.  His
whiter than white teeth gleamed at me from his happy
looking face.  Apparently word had gotten out on the
ship.  He stepped into the cabin, and I shut the door
behind him.  He already had his long thick tube steak
out and had it half hard for me before I could resume
my seat on my bed.  He wasted no words, or time
letting me have at his treasure.  He was good, and
soon wanted me to take it all down my throat, fucking
my face, forcing his considerable length deeper and
deeper with each thrust.  I grabbed onto his heavy
nuts, and massaged them while he had his way with my
throat.  He got a pretty good rhythim going, and it
was over sooner than it should have been since I was
just getting into the beating my throat was taking
when he shot his first volly of cum.  He pulled out
until just the giant knob was left in my mouth, and
suddenly, I was swallowing fast and furious to keep up
with his offering.  Like the other kid, he was gone in
a flash after he finished.  But when he opened the
door to leave, he let a third man into my cabin.  This
one I knew.  It was the first mate.
	He wanted pretty much the same thing, and after a few
minutes of stroking his thick shaft up to full
hardness, he shoved it in my mouth, and came almost at
the same moment.  He was a few years older than my
first two sailors, and his musky spunk tasted bitter
with tobacco.  He asked me if I likd to get fucked,
and when I said I did, he suggested he could be ready
to do me a little later.  I told him I had an
appointment after midnight, so we had better put it
off until another day.  After all, the ship wasn't due
to dock in Buenaventura for another month.   We had
some time.
	After he left, I had another scotch, and was feeling
very relaxed.  This trip was turning out to be better
than expected.  I read a few more pages, and when I
glanced at my watch, saw it was a few minutes past
midnight.  At that moment, there was another knock at
my door, and I let the large black man Jorge, and his
Colombian friend Manuel into my cabin.   Jorge reached
for the tie on my robe imedately, and when it fell
open, he pulled it the rest of the way off.  I stood
there, naked, looking at them as they licked their
lips.
	Jorge turned to Manuel, and told him to get on his
knees and suck my cock.  He wanted to watch while he
got his clothes off.  I enjoyed the suck job, while
watching the big black man strip out of his dirty
clothes.  His skin had that nice salty smell, from
doing hard work in the salt air.  By the time he was
nude, his thick shaft was at half mast.  I reached for
it and he stepped closer.
	"You tink you can take my fucker up yo arse mister?
He grinned.
	"Son, I'd think I'd died and gone to heaven."  He
looked at me with a puzzled expression, and I realized
the phrase didn't translate.
	"I never killed nobody wid it yet."  I grabbed it
hard, and felt it twitch in my fist.
	"And you won't tonight either.  I reached into the
nightstand drawer and took out my tub of lube.  I
handed it to him, and he grinned again.  Maunel and I
shifted around so Manuel's head was reasting against
my bunk mattress, and I started fucking his mouth.  I
felt Jorge squeeze a gob of the lube on my hole, and
his thick fingeres began to work it into me.  The next
sensation I had, was the head of his thick cock
shoving into me hard.  Once in, he didn't stop until
his long thick shaft brought his big hairy balls up
against my butt cheeks.  Manuel gagged on my dick, and
I tried to pull out to let him recover, but Jorge was
having none of it.
	The pounding he started giving my ass was the best
I'd ever had in all my years of cruising bars, baths,
and parks in Los Angeles.  Poor Manuel had to spit me
out while Jorge fucked me, but when he saw I was about
to cum from the pounding I was getting, he was brave
enough to latch on and take my load.  It wasn't too
long after that, that Jorge began to tremble and I
felt him go rigid and then his big shaft began to
shoot his hot spunk into my hole.  When he finished,
he pulled out slowly, and then Manuel was on my hole
in a flash tonguing me deep to get as much of Jorge's
spooge as possible.  I pushed down, and felt the slime
oozing out onto his lapping tongue.
	I was exhausted by the end of the session, but felt I
had to do something for Manuel.  I pulled him up to a
standing position, and slipped down on my knees.  He
had his cock out hard in my face before I got
comfortable, but we wasted no time draining his heafty
balls down my throat.
	I could go on with more of this, because all this
happened the first night on the highseas.  The ship
wasn't due to dock for a month, and I knew I was going
to have the faggot's dream cruise of a lifetime.
Indeed, before it was over, I even had the captain a
time or two, or three.
	Since I don't much care for long strings of blow by
blow job stories, this will have to do for all you
horny guys reading this.

email: sintitulo2@yahoo.com