Date: Sat, 4 Mar 2000 18:02:54 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Archman <Bldhrymn@excite.com>
Subject: Golden  Cockerel  Part 2

Golden Cockerel Part Two

 By Bald Hairy Man e mail bldhrymn@aol.com or at Bldhrymn@excite.com If you
have any comments, please send them to me at bldhrymn@aol.com

This is a fantasy, for men, not kids, not for anyone who got to this site
by accident, not expecting to find gay stories.  No effort at realistic or
safe sexual practices has been made.

When I woke, John and Raleigh were up. They were all business and we spent
the morning devoting the day to planning the details of the
enterprise. Raleigh was more helpful than I had expected, in spite of his
history of impracticability, he had a grasp of the elements needed for a
successful expedition. John wasn't particularly knowledgeable about the sea
or ships, but he accepted my opinions and only rarely asked for
explanation.

Raleigh wanted to get some exercise at mid day, so we went out side to walk
in the park. I rejected the proposal for a horse ride.  The day was
astoundingly warm for the time of year. The house was damp and cold except
where the fires had been going. It was a summer day outside, hot in the
direct sunlight.  We went out and immediately sent our cloaks back with a
servant.

The extensive park was empty of other people. I mentioned this to John and
he explained that Walsingham had found the tenants' cottages and from areas
away from the house so that he would have a clear area surrounding his
residence. Assassins could be more easily be seen if the in this area. As
spy master to the Queen he was always in danger.

We were in our shirts after an hour walk. The sun was hot and the day
became more summer like. We found a stream and a pond and Raleigh stripped
and jumped in.

"It's warm!"He cried from the water. We joined him. The water was
comfortable and it was a shock to be swimming two or three months before
one would normally expect. After four months of wearing heavy clothes the
sense of freedom was wonderful. John could swim, relieving me on one worry.
After an hour of swimming we lay on the grassy bank in the sun.

I realized that Raleigh would always be a gentleman and a dandy. He was
every inch a man, a good seven inches of man, but on the ship he could
never pass for anything other than what he was, an aristocratic adventurer
from the court.  John was a few more inches of man, but could easily pass
for being a miller, farmer or a blacksmith.

Stripped of his black clerical robes and puritan dress, John would be fine
on the ship.  England was in a perpetually uneasy state with its neighbors,
France and Spain. War or peace was never clear at sea, and piracy could
easily pass for service to King Philip or whatever fool was on the hag
ridden throne of France.

The Golden Cockerel was not an impressive ship to most men's eyes. We could
pass as a fishing ship or merchantman without difficulty.  I never caused
trouble for the Portugese, French or Basque fishermen, and only rarely for
the Spaniards. The big galleons were too slow to catch us, and we were too
small to be a prize. It was important that no one on the ship suggest to
anyone that we had any reason to be at sea except for delivering our cargo.

Raleigh was on his stomach with his ass in the air. John and I looked at
each other and he motioned to me to help the courtier out. I touched
Raleigh's ass. He looked at me.

"Thank God it's you Robin." He said. "I was afraid John was going to split
me in half again."

I spit on my hand and used it to lubricate my cock. John did the same to
Raleigh's ass and I slipped in easily. Raleigh's ass was tight and warm. He
was a passionate man and responded to every thrust. I rolled him over and
spread his legs so I could thrust deeper. Raleigh relaxed as I continued
thrusting and he opened up. John held Raleigh's arms so that his engorged
cock could get no relief and Raleigh moaned in pleasure. Finally John
grabbed the courtier's cock and gave it three or four good strokes and
Raleigh shot off a respectable load.

I didn't cum. I wanted to save that for John later that night. We all
jumped back into the pool.  The sun began to dip and the warmth of the day
vanished. We dressed and returned to the house. A messenger had arrived in
our absence instructing us to return to London that night. A boat would be
waiting to take us down the Thames. The mention of a boat brought relief to
me. There was no horse rode to rattle my bones. The servants had prepared
some food to take along and we departed.

We arrived in London in the middle of the night. John was to go immediately
to Walsingham, Raleigh and I stayed in a disreputable inn. Even at the late
hour the place was filled with drunks, pimps and whores. Raleigh was well
known there. We climbed over the bodies of revelers in various states of
drunkenness, and slipped into a small passage. This connected to a twisting
stair and eventually to an upper level chamber.

"To bed, Master Robin, To bed." Raleigh said. He stripped again and got
into the curtained bed. There was a commotion and Raleigh and another man
were swearing at each other. We were not the only residents of the room.

"Kit!" Raleigh cried.

"Raleigh! What in hell are you doing in this forsaken place!" Another voice
said. There was some conversation and it seemed that the inn keeper,
assuming that Raleigh would not be back that night, had rented to chamber
to another man. They knew each other, so it could have been worse.  I was a
puzzled bystander until Raleigh remembered I was on the other side of the
bed curtains.

"Kit, this is my friend Robin FitzWilliam, Master of the Golden Cockerel."
Raleigh said. "Robin, this is Kit Marlowe, gentleman and sometimes
playwright."  We shook hands. Marlowe was said to be brilliant, witty, and
atheist and a sodomite. He was also naked and in the bed with another man.

Marlowe's cock was soft, but a bead of pre cum dripped from it connected by
a thin filament that could be seen in the candle light. Marlowe was young
and might have been handsome once, but he looked dissipated and tired.

He was cordial, and invited us into bed with him. He didn't tell us who the
man in bed with him was. He was young and handsome.

"I was just introducing my friend to the joys of man play. I was just
beginning to search for the magic nut when you barged in on us." Marlowe
said. "I was going to complete my explorations if you don't mind."

"Robin and I will play our own games, Kit." Raleigh said. "I'm tired." I
thought that the sounds of fornication would keep me awake, but I slept as
soon as my head hit the pillow.  When I woke the next morning, I was alone
in the bed with Marlowe's friend.

"Where are they?" I asked.

"I don't know, they went to a meeting, Master .  .  .?" The man replied.

"Robin, Master of the golden Cockerel." I said. "And you are?"

"Will, an aspiring playwright from Stratford." The man answered.

"Are you and Marlowe old friends?"

"Not at all. I drank too much." He said. He looked appropriately sheepish.

"Did he find what he was looking for?" I asked.

"He was looking for something?"  Will asked.

"You did drink too much!" I said. "He was exploring your ass and looking
for the nut. Is your ass sore?"


"I don't think so." He said, "Should it be?"The red haired young man was
getting closer to me and clearly his lusts had not been sated by the
notorious playwright. Perhaps he just couldn't remember. His cock was
rubbing against my leg.

I played with his member and was impressed. He was young, but full sized
and was leaking.  He was ripe.  "Have you tasted cock?" I asked.  The young
man disappeared below the covers.  He licked the shaft then went after it
with vigor.  After a few minutes he emerged from below the sheets.

"I could do that all day!" he said enthusiastically.  "Tasted great! Do you
bathe?" Cocks at the end of winter could be crusty, and while I liked to
suck cock, the smell could be a problem. Will apparently had little
experience with men who were clean.

" I was swimming yesterday.  Let me taste you." He straddled my face, but
was so hard his cock stuck straight up. I could only lick his balls. Will
too was clean. I assumed that Kit had eaten him the night before.

We moved in the bed to a mouth to cock position and I swallowed his meat
whole.  His cock was long and thin with a lot of foreskin. I grabbed the
skin with my lips and pulled it back over his head. I ran my tongue around
the head in the skin, then went down again, peeling the skin back and
letting his bare head slip down my throat.  He moaned and tried to do the
same to me, but I was too thick for him.

I repeated this several times and had the young man shivering in lust.
"Hold up Robin or I will be done!" He said.

"Let's find that nut!" I said. He sat against the pillows and I had him
spread his legs. I touched his hole.

"Is it in there?" He asked.

"That's where it is." I said. I have found many men's sex nut before, and
usually they were shocked at the thought of having another mans fingers in
their ass. Will seemed more curious than worried. I worked a finger in.

"Nothing yet." He said.

"You've been fucked?" I asked.

"Never sober."  Will said. "I must have liked it. I've done it several
times since.  Actors are always willing to help the playwright." I had only
one finger into the first knuckle and loosened the ass ring. Pushing in
deeper, I felt the edge of the organ and jabbed it.

"God in heaven, Was that it?" I jabbed a second time, but this time kept
the pressure on it. "I can't stand it." Will cried.  He was thrashing
around, trying to reduce the pressure on the nut. As soon as he got some
relief, he would wiggle to get my finger more deeply lodged in his
prostate.

"Would you rather have my cock in there, Master Playwright?" I asked,
jabbing it again.

"Anything you want!" He gasped. I pulled my finger out and shoved my pre
cum covered cock in. He shuddered, and I held him by his shoulders so that
he would remain fully impaled.  He cried in ecstasy. My cock slipped in
more easily than I had expected. I guessed that Marlowe's seed eased the
way, and guessed that the young man was not quite as virginal as he
suggested. My first mate on the ship claimed that my cock was thicker than
it was long.  That isn't true, but it usually is a challenge for
inexperienced men.

Will' was tight and warm, and I felt him contract the chute to try to trap
my cock as I rammed him.  He enjoyed it and soon spewed man seed all over
our chests.

"I understand what you meant when you talked about the sex nut!" Will said,
still gasping for air. He liked it but had an odd detachment, as if he were
doing a scientific experiment.

"Will the magic nut appear in one of your plays?" I jokingly asked.

Will laughed.  "When it comes to love, it's much safer to exchange longing
glances, and pine away in desire. Any way, the taste today is for horrific
plays filled with death and dismemberment and un paralleled cruelty. It
would be difficult to work enjoyment in." He paused. "I might be able to
make an allusion to it in one of my private writings."

"Have you published any or your work?" I asked.

"No, not under my name." Will said. "It's hard to make a living as a
playwright, especially a young one, so I write for nobles and scholars who
need a sonnet or essay to impress their peers, but doesn't have the time."

"Raleigh?" I guessed.

"Of course Raleigh!"  He laughed.  "You are a good judge of character
Master Robin. Raleigh, the Countess of Pembroke, even some university
scholars like Francis Bacon."

"I've never heard of Bacon." I said.

"You will, believe me you will."  Will said. "A brilliant mind, but a poor
sense of style. I dress it up and make it presentable."

Raleigh returned to the room. "We must be on our way. A boat awaits." I got
dressed and followed him into the streets.  We made our way to the Thames
and were soon on a small boat.  Raleigh explained that John would rejoin me
at the ship, but that he would stay in the background so that the ship
would not attract any attention. There were spies everywhere.

I transferred to a larger ship and Raleigh returned to London.  It took
several days for me to get to Bristol.  The boat was maned by simple
fishermen, and it was a pleasure to forget the world of conniving politics
and treachery I had been briefly immersed in.

Bristol was bustling as the winter weather retreated and made voyages
safer. The Golden Cockerel looked brand new anchored in the bay. Carpenters
and painters had spent the winter repairing and renewing the ship.  I
climbed up the ladder on the side and met Cedric, the ships carpenter, and
his helper Hugh.

"Good to have you back, Sir." Cedric said. "We are almost done with the
work we planned." Cedric was a big man, both tall and heavy.  He was
wearing a leather vest that was open to his waist. His curly red merged
with the hair on his chest. The day was warm and sawdust coated him.  Hugh
was smaller but still big.  He was simple, not stupid, just simple.  He
wasn't ever going to be anything but a carpenter's helper. He almost never
talked, except to Cedric. He did exactly what he was told, never anymore,
never any less.

Ben Brown appeared on deck next. He was a smith, and, with Cedric, kept the
ship in repair at sea and in port. Ben had black hair and was a larger
version of Cedric. They were both good men in a fight too.  Ben understood
cannons and explosives, the two men were the most useful on my ship. "The
captain's back!" Ben bellowed.

Ten men appeared. "You should have warned us you were on your way back,
Sir" Ben said.  Mr. Mac is in town.  Mr. Angus MacDonald, was the first
mate, and commanded the ship in my absence.  Mac ran the crew with a firm
hand. You always knew exactly where you stood with him.  You knew what you
were expected to do, and what you could expect of him.  It made for a happy
ship.

I went to my quarters after greeting the crew.  It was good to back home.
Mac arrived at the end of the day. Mac was middle height, and solid.  His
hair had been blond, but now was white, with a weather beaten face and
bright blue eyes.  We were partners.

To the world I was the captain, but he ran the ship.  I came from a gentle
family, and went to sea because of a disaster that befell my family. He was
the son of a sailor.  He thought it was more seemly that I be the captain,
and he the mate.  We had been together for years and I never questioned his
decisions on the deck, and he never questioned my role in selecting the
enterprise we undertook.

I told him of my meeting with John and Raleigh. Adventure and wealth
excited him. He immediately began planning the provisioning of the ship,
and began to select the right crew for such a voyage.