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  THE CAPTAIN'S SEDUCTION

  L. L. Brooks

  Erotic Romance

  Secret Cravings Publishing

  www.secretcravingspublishing.com

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  A Secret Cravings Publishing Book

  Erotic Romance

  The Captain's Seduction

  Copyright © 2012 L.L. Brooks

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-61885-244-1

  First E-book Publication: April 2012

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  Edited by Ariana Gaynor

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  THE CAPTAIN'S SEDUCTION

  L.L. Brooks

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  “He’s sweet, small and soft,” Whale said with a drawl. “We can close our eyes, poke him hard in the ass and pretend it’s a pussy we’re fucking, especially with one so soft and tender.”

  Captain Simon Wilkes’ stomach turned. “Hire him yourself.”

  “Oh, now, Captain, he’d take one look at this ugly puss of mine and refuse. One look at that glorious face and body of yours and he’ll come along never knowing how many of us will be taking him until it’s too late to say no. And he can serve as cabin boy while no one buggers him.”

  Simon was aware of his own physical attributes. Women and some men had told him often how they admired his dark hair and sky blue eyes. At no more than average height, he did possess broad shoulders and chest, flat stomach, and narrow hips. He had never used his appealing looks to gain anything from anyone, man or woman. He most certainly would not falsely use them to procure a male whore to provide his crew with a means of release during the length of the upcoming voyage. In his opinion abstention should be practiced, not the sin of sodomy.

  The owner of the ship he commanded not only believed in providing release, he advocated taking whatever male was handy, willing or not. Hiring was Whale’s idea. A willing whore did set better on Simon’s conscience, and he had no objection if the one Whale desired agreed.

  “If I hire him, I won’t lie to him. If it weren’t the owner’s orders, there wouldn’t be any taken on board for that purpose to begin with.” Though he disapproved, it was something he agreed to when taking a captain’s position in a foreign based company, a moral compromise he detested for the sake of money and position. Had it not been for his father’s insistence that he establish himself at all costs, he would not have.

  Whale got a conniving look on his face Simon hated. “Master Sardi’s from over here, now isn’t he? On this side of the water they don’t take a man fucking a man as a sin like they do on your side. Having a butt eases the strain of being on the water for six months without a woman, you know? Having one all know is for sharing it keeps the crew from fighting when−”

  “I know the reasons. I still don’t approve.”

  “Not all men gots the control you do, Captain. Now this one, he’s prime and already broke in for it, a fairy boy, you know. He prefers a man up his ass to taking a woman. Been watching him awhile now. When the women take the men upstairs, he follows if he likes what he sees.”

  “I’ll offer him a berth, Whale. No more.”

  Simon started off. Whale hopped to keep up with him. “You got to buy
the woman first. If he likes you, he’ll follow. He don’t take none from the common room. He follows and slips into the room. He’ll like what he sees in you, I’m sure.”

  “Are the women clean? I’ll not chance having my cock fall off from syphilis to please your weakness.”

  “They are, for sure. It’s a clean run house of pussy and ass, English owned. No French pox, for sure.”

  Simon didn’t ask which Whale favored of the two offered. He knew. Whale talked a lot of pussy, but he enjoyed the men provided on a voyage a bit too much, the younger the better for him. The practice of taking a young man, some no more than boys, to provide a delusion of female body to horny men confined aboard a ship was a common practice on this side of the ocean. He only agreed to approach this one to avoid some young man being taken from the streets and tossed into brutal servitude unwillingly.

  On the last voyage, the young man they took from the streets fought the use he’d never agreed to until he didn’t survive the trip. Simon would not have that on his conscience again. It was murder, plain and simple. On this side of the water there were too many willing to give their ass for a fair wage to take one against his will.

  The place Whale directed him to wasn’t only a brothel; the tavern portion was clean patronized by many who made their living on the sea. Though he spoke French fluently, hearing English spoken around him was also a comfort. The women, plentiful and comely, offered to ease the strain of no release for the six months he’d been at sea for a small fee. A few men of various ages and sizes offered to serve him as well. Simon quickly waved them away though his gaze drifted often to the cock bulges nestled between their legs and the cloth stretched tight across the ass cheeks. None he saw seemed to have a sweet little ass begging to have a cock buried in it, though the men made no secret of their asses being for the ready. Perhaps Whale was wrong or the man whore he wanted wasn’t there that night. He would soon see. Making his choice for the night, he settled on a woman with breasts about to burst forth from her low hung blouse who paid him particular attention. To his mind she was as good as any. All he needed was something other than his hand to work off the tension of too many months at sea.

  His hard prick lay tight against his belly as it had too often the last half year. Too often he’d wake with the ache of it and too often his cock sprang to hardness while he stood on watch.

  Jerking himself off to relieve the pressure did no more than that. Seldom had he felt any real satisfaction, no more really than he did shoving himself into the whore’s crotch. He pumped her as methodically as he’d worked his hand, reaching for release and knowing squirting off inside her would give him little more than pumping it into the sea. Not even the cup of wine he downed before sinking into her made him anymore eager. Not doing more than opening his britches to free himself, he didn’t take the time to undress, him or the whore. He only wanted it done to ease the ache in his groin. With her skirts tossed over her chest, he set to work, totally lacking in passion.

  When a hand touched his ass cheek, he jerked and twisted to look over his shoulder. The one who stood there had to be who Whale spoke of, small and looking to be barely more than a child, sweet and innocent.

  “Off with you, Roger. I’m busy here,” the whore said.

  “I can maybe give him more.”

  “Get out of here,” Simon told him. “I’m no ass fucker.”

  “I’ve a very sweet ass, tighter than any pussy you’ve ever fucked. Tighter than Yvette.”

  Simon lifted off the whore to stand by the bed. “I told you to get out of here.”

  Yvette, he hadn’t known her name before then, bounced off the bed. “Now you’ve gone and spoiled it, Roger. Look, he’s gone softer than a pudding.” She swung her skirts to straighten them. “He’ll need a good sucking to bring him back up, and I don’t suck cock since I broke a tooth and got smacked for scratching. You call me when you get him back to poking strength.”

  “I’m very good at sucking,” Roger told Simon in a sweet little voice as he edged closer. “I can smell you leaking, smell how bad you need release.”

  He touched Simon lightly on the arm. Simon flipped his hand away and dropped into a

  chair. Sliding his hips out, he stared down at his prick, peeking out from beneath his shirt edge and lowered britches. He wasn’t totally soft and knew he’d soon come up again, but damned if he had any desire to call the whore back. He poured and drank another cup of wine, thinking he’d enjoy his release just as much if he pumped the sausage himself. When a hand closed around his semi hard cock, he thought why not? One hand was as good as another, but the hand belonged to a man with a sweet and loving face though why he should think such a thing confused him.

  Head reeling a bit, Simon was of two minds, neither recalling he’d gone there to hire the man. One told him a man touching him was wrong. The other told him the way the fingers closed tight to slide up and down felt too good to push the hand away, more arousing in some odd way than a woman’s touch had ever been. The face he gazed into held such beauty, the eyes such pleading and not so young as Simon first thought. Wisdom shown out from those hazel eyes, and wrinkles at the corners showed he had more years on him than it first seemed.

  Feeling more observer than participant, he did no more than tense as the sweet little lips closed over the head of his cock and a tongue traced the slit, taking drops of cum from him. A gentle hand cupped his sack, the thumb stroking the kernel inside, and Simon felt something he’d never felt before. He liked it. He wanted it. Even less comprehensible to him, he craved more.

  His hips surged, burying his cock in the hot little mouth working him. He still wanted more.

  In a wave of anger over the desire raging through him, Simon pushed Roger away, lunging to his feet. Fighting himself, fighting a reeling head, he shoved the sweet little body over the table, ripped down the britches, and buried himself with one drive of his hips. Fingers digging cruelly into the flesh of the young man’s hips, Simon pulled the ass tighter into his crotch, burying himself to his balls, and reeled even more with sensations of satisfaction he’d never had with any woman or clutch of his own hands. With each drive of his hips, he felt what had always been missing—completion, satisfaction, a sense of how it should be.

  “Yes,” Roger said in a moan, arms braced on the table to push back with each ram of a hard cock up his ass. “Fuck me. Make me…”

  He ended in a groan when Simon fell over him, his cock propelling hot, thick cum deep inside him. Simon’s weight drove the smaller man face down on the table. Without another sound, Roger held still and quiet, making only a soft whimper when Simon pulled free and dropped back into the chair.

  Simon held his head with both hands. What had he done? Worse, why had it given him such a sense of right when it had been so wrong? “I’m drunk and drugged I think. I would never have done that otherwise. It was disgusting and wrong. I hurt you.”

  Roger sat on the floor beside him, leaning up against his leg. “No, no pain.” His hand stroked down Simon’s calf. “It ended too soon.”

  “Liar.” Simon wanted more to drink, but the bottle of wine had gone to the floor when he threw a helpless, smaller man across the table. “I brutalized you.”

  “It is you who lies to yourself. You could have made love to me if you had let yourself. Is it wrong to deny yourself love?”

  “That wasn’t love.”

  “It could be.”

  “No.” Pushing up, Simon pulled his britches to his waist, clumsily tucking his shirt in. “No, that wasn’t love. It was sinful.”

  “Stay,” Roger implored, holding his hands out to him.

  He was beautiful, but the enormity of what Simon had done made him ill. He could not be attracted to the beautiful young man in more than sick lust. Drinking, even drugged, was no excuse for what he’d done. He pulled his purse from his pocket.

  “Take yourself away from this life,” he told Roger, dropping the purse in his lap on his way to stumble out of the room. He
would have to live with what he’d done, but maybe he could save Roger from enduring endless abuse from drunken men, men like Whale. Anxious to learn the results of Simon’s first and what would be his only foray into solicitation, Whale met him before he could reach the bottom of the stairs.

  “He refused. You’ll have to find another male whore.” He marched by him, anxious to be free of the tavern and to breathe fresh air.

  Hopping to stay with Simon’s long stride, Whale caught his arm to detain him on the street.

  “We could take him. He seldom leaves the tavern, but if we watch, we could catch him yet.”

  “Listen to me well, Whale. You find a whore. He comes willingly or not at all.”

  “Mister Sardi says different. He’s of no mind how we take one. The owner has the top say.”

  “If you bring one on board that doesn’t walk freely, I’ll personally toss him off. I’ll not have any man, whore or not, being ravaged to death by a crew of horny men on my ship again. And don’t tell me there aren’t plenty to find this side of the water. If you hadn’t forced the last one, we’d not be looking for another.”

  “We could—”

  “I’ve made myself clear on the matter.”

  “Yes, sir, Captain, sir.”

  After a sloppy salute, Whale stomped off. Simon didn’t care if he’d made him angry. After seeing Roger he had to admit, to his chagrin, he understood Whale’s desire for him. Though Simon would never admit to being a boy lover by preference, Roger had awakened parts buried deep inside him Simon had never been aware of. At least he was not a pederast. Roger was a man, not a boy who enabled him to understand finally why sex with women had always been so dissatisfying. Admitting to himself the evening had been more than a drunken, out of control binge of decadence, he swore he would never let it happen again. That sick part of him would forever be buried. Convinced of those facts, he knew how weak he was as soon as he heard the soft voice call to him.