Tramp Steamer

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 exchangeable 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 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 leisurely 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 hefty 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.

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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 hefty 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 announcement.

"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 enough 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 saltiness 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 glistening pre-cum 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 rhythm 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 volley 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 liked 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 immediately, 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 think you can take my fucker up you 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 with 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. Manuel and I shifted around so Manuel's head was resting 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 fingers 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 spunk 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 full balls down my throat.

I could go on with more of this, because all this happened the first night on the high-seas. 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.

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