BLOW THE MAN DOWN
by Jason Bonds
Chapter 9
The next morning Rick was rudely awakened by a sharp blow to his
head. At first, he thought someone has struck him. Then he realized
the boat was bucking and lurching violently, and he had been thrown
from his bunk and banged his head on the floor.
"Shit!" Rick said, getting up and looking around.
He was alone in the bunk room, and there was a sickening sensation
of tumultuous motion, punctuated by brief intervals of near
weightlessness. The Apollo was creaking and groaning loudly, and
there were frightening snapping sounds as the hull and frame work
resisted extraordinary stresses. Rick ran to a porthole and peered
outside.
"Oh, my God!" he breathed, looking out with wide eyes.
Between splashes of foaming water against the porthole, he caught
glimpses of the incredibly rough sea outside. Churning,
wind-whipped dark waters towered up in frothy waves higher than the
boat. A driving rain was being blown in horizontal sheets by a
raging wind while the Apollo rode the angry sea.
Stark terror gripped Rick Marinaro when he caught his next glimpse
of the ugly scene outside. The Apollo was riding the churning crest
of a mountainous wave for a few seconds, then the boat dipped and
slid rapidly down the slope of the great wall of water, diving into
a horrifying trough between giant waves. The abrupt descent into
the trough left Rick's stomach queasy. In the next instant, the
boat was being literally blown up the windward slope of the next
colossal wave, where it teetered at the foamy crest for a moment
before plunging into another seemingly bottomless trough.
Rick jumped back from the porthole as dark water slapped against it
with such force he thought the thick glass might break. He hung
onto a corner of a bunk bed, looking for his clothes. Loose objects
were sliding weirdly back and forth across the floor, and he
grabbed his backpack as it came by. While he dug in his backpack,
Rick could hear the big diesel engine of the Apollo straining
against the onslaught of the storm. The engine's roar vibrated
everything in the room.
He hurried getting into a pair of jeans and a Rod Stewart T-shirt.
Rick sat on the floor and put on his sneakers without any socks.
While he was tying his shoes, he found himself sliding across the
bunk room as the Apollo's bow took an unusually severe dip. The
sliding motion irritated his sore ass, reminding him of the
previous night's marathon fucking session with the four fishermen.
A momentary surge of guilt made Rick tense when he recalled how he
had begged the guys to fuck him to death, how he had wallowed in
utter depravity, and how he had gloried in the defilement of his
beautiful body.
Suddenly, the floor sloped at a steep angle toward the stern, and
Rick found himself rolling across the room. Before he could right
himself, he slammed into the aft wall with a dull thud. It didn't
take an experienced sailor to know the Apollo was in danger of
capsizing, and Rick's fleeting feeling of guilt evaporated as he
realized he was in a very real life threatening situation. Hanging
onto pipes and bunk beds, he made his way to the stairway. As he
climbed the steep stairs, the narrow stairwell at times lay at such
an angle that he found himself lying against the wall. Finally, he
reached the door at the top of the stairs.
Rick opened the door to a watery nightmare. The driving rain
drenched him instantly, as if a bucket of water had been thrown on
him. The raging wind was shrieking against masts and guy wires.
forty-foot waves that towered above the boat were having their
foaming crests literally blown off by the high winds, and the
Apollo was being tossed about like a cork. While Rick stood in the
open doorway, appalled by it all, he heard a loud crack. An instant
later, the tall boom mast he had been chained to the day before
fell across the deck with a resounding crash. as he jumped back
inside, a huge piece of fiberglass from the radar antenna housing
went sailing by.
"Jesus!" Rick gasped, convinced that the Apollo was falling apart.
He couldn't see anyone on deck, so he steeled his nerves and began
making his way to the bridge stairway, hanging onto railings to
keep from being blown overboard. As he fought his way up the
stairway, Rick had horrible visions of the whole crew having been
swept overboard, and he imagined himself alone on a sinking vessel.
He bit his lower lip, hoping it wasn't so, praying for the sound of
a human voice. He had never been so terrified before in his life.
Suddenly, there was a great roar of water as the Apollo's bow
dipped into a rolling wall of dark water. The mammoth wave spewed
and foamed across the deck below, almost swamping the lurching
boat. Rick gulped and hung onto the stairway railing, realizing
that if he had been standing where he was a few moments before, the
angry sea would have claimed him. He had been lucky, ascending the
stairs just before the deck inundated.
Finally reaching the bridge, Rick hung on for dear life and made
his way to the pilothouse door -- the place where, only the day
before, he had stood with his Speedo down around his knees, jacking
off like a maniac while he watched Cotton and Shawn sucking each
other off. Now all that seemed a million years in the past,
something that had happened in another life.
"Thank God!" Rick blurted when he saw the four fishermen inside the
pilothouse. He yanked the door open and flung himself inside.
"Rick!" Cotton said in surprise. "What the hell are you doing out
roaming around?"
Rick plastered his back against the wall, shuddering from fear as
much as the cold drenching he'd had. "Just thought I'd take a
little morning stroll," he said. Goose bumps dotted his suntanned
arms. "How's the fishing today?"
"You idiot!" Shawn scolded, drying Rick's black hair with a towel.
"Why didn't you call us on the intercom? You could've been washed
overboard!"
"I didn't know there was an intercom," Rick said, still trembling.
"I just woke up and everybody was gone, and it looked like the end
of the world outside... so I got scared and came looking for you
guys." He grasped Shawn's arm affectionately. "Goddamn, it's good
to see you!"
"You were so out of it this morning, we decided to let you sleep,"
cotton said. "There's nothing you can do to help, anyway."
"Feel better this morning?" Lucky asked, looking over his shoulder
at Rick while he fought with the helm.
"Yes sir," Rick said, feeling a chill race down his spine when his
and Lucky's eyes met.
Everybody except Damon laughed at Rick's response.
"You can drop the sir stuff this morning," Lucky chuckled. "No
games now -- this is real life." He struggled to control the helm,
which was resisting his efforts as the boat lurched to starboard.
"Damn this fuckin' storm!"
Embarrassed, Rick took the towel from Shawn and dried himself as
best he could. His jeans and T-shirt were soaked, though, and the
white cotton of his shirt clung wetly to his muscular torso. He
felt nauseated, and suddenly found himself gagging with dry heaves.
"I think I'm sick," Rick muttered, shaking his head.
"You're seasick, man," Damon said. "I'm a little queasy this
morning, myself. And I live on this tub."
Shawn gave Rick a capsule and some water, telling him it would
relieve the symptoms. While Rick was drinking, there was a
tremendous ripping and crunching sound overhead. Rick looked up at
the ceiling, petrified with fear.
"There went the radar antenna," Lucky remarked casually.
"The boat's coming apart, isn't it?" Rick asked nervously.
"Naw," Cotton laughed. "We're losing some equipment, but the hull's
holding up just fine. You think I'd buy a boat that falls apart?"
Rick could tell Cotton's laughter was forced, that he was concerned
abut their safety. The absence of comments by the other guys
confirmed Rick's suspicion that they were in grave danger of
sinking.
While Lucky battled to keep the Apollo heading into the wind, Rick
began to understand the importance of what he was doing. It was
obvious that, if the boat should turn sideways against the
onslaught of gigantic waves and raging wind, it would undoubtedly
capsize. Rick quickly understood the vital importance of the big
diesel engine in those circumstances, knowing that if the engine
failed, they would founder hopelessly on the storm-tossed sea,
capsize and slip to water graves beneath the choppy surface. This
was serious business...
But still, even though he knew it was ridiculous under the
circumstances, Rick found himself eying the four studly seamen and
entertaining lustful thoughts. Something in his mind had snapped
the day before he had become obsessed with sex. Vivid images of the
was they had used his body flashed through Rick's mind, making him
horny all over again.
He watched Lucky Donovan wrestle with the steering mechanism, his
huge biceps bulging. Lucky was wearing his tight jeans and midriff
T-shirt, exposing his brawny arms and scalloped abdomen. His
dark-blonde hair had been wet recently and was curled into a mass
of tight ringlets that dangled over the bandanna he kept tied
around his head. His sinewy muscles rippled as he tugged at the
helm, trying to keep the Apollo on course.
Rick looked at Damon, who was anxiously peering out through the
rain- streaked windows. Damon was wearing his ragged cut-offs and a
gray sweatshirt. His cock and hairy balls were partially visible
below the frayed edges of his cut-offs, and his long slim legs
looked good to Rick. The cute teenager's lower ass-cheeks came
tantalizingly into view every time he moved.
Cotton and Shawn were both wearing ragged jeans and sweatshirts. An
interesting rip in the seat of Shawn's jeans revealed a small
section of smooth bun and a glimpse of his ass-crevice.
Knowing that death was a very real possibility, Rick still couldn't
help feeling horny in the presence of these good-looking guys who
had used and abused him so delightfully the night before. Rick felt
cheated, as if he had only begun to live, and now this -- a killer
hurricane that threatened to snuff out his life just as he finally
had the opportunity to experience fulfillment. It just didn't seem
fair.
On the spur of the moment, Rick decided he had nothing to lose and
everything to gain. He decided to go for it, hurricane or no
hurricane...
"These wet clothes feel icky," Rick said peeling his wet T-shirt
off over his head. "Mind if I just wear a towel?" He quickly pushed
his jeans down, struggling to get the wet denim off over his feet.
"Suit yourself," Cotton said, mildly surprised at Rick's immodesty
at such a time. He was watching the horror in progress outside, and
paid little attention as Rick stripped.
Lucky looked around, his fawn-like eyes scanning Rick's naked body.
"How about skippin' the towel?" he said. "We could use some nice
scenery about now."
Rick smiled demurely and draped the towel around his neck, standing
naked near Lucky. He knew the big stud was enamored of his
beautiful, lithe body, and he shapelessly tempted him by moving
closer.
"Oooops!" Lucky blurted as a huge wave tossed the Apollo at a steep
angle, causing the bow to thrust upward. "Son of a bitch!"
For a moment, the bow seemed to be standing straight up, pointing
skyward. They all fell back against the wall while Lucky hung onto
the helm. The boat careened to port, threatening for one horrifying
moment to turn on its side. Lucky spun the helm, heading the boat
up the slope of a great rolling wall of water.
"Don't bother Lucky any more," Cotton said sternly to Rick.
"I didn't do anything," Rick said, shrugging his shoulders.
"Humph!" Damon snorted, looking askance at Rick, who had landed
beside him against the wall. "Why don't you put your clothes back
on, man?"
"Why don't you take yours off?" Rick asked seductively, reaching
between the boy's legs and grabbing a handful of bare cock and
balls. "Hummm?"
"You're nuts," Damon said, trying to ignore Rick's warm hand on his
prick. But he made no effort to remove the stud's groping hand.
Rick kept fondling the teenager's cock and balls. He was pleased
when he felt Damon's prick responding, swelling and gradually
stiffening in his hand. Rick knew Damon would now be the most
difficult one of the four guys to seduce, because the boy was
jealous. Lucky's obvious fascination with Rick had cooled Damon's
ardor, and the boy was now seeing Rick as a competitor for his
hunky lover's attention.
Damon's cock crept from beneath his shorts, becoming rigid and huge
in Rick's hand. Rick grinned with satisfaction, stroking the cute
youngster's hard-on slowly.
"What is it you want?" Damon finally asked, realizing he could
hardly conceal the fact that Rick had turned him on.
"I want to suck all of you guys off and swallow your cum," Rick
said brazenly. "I want a belly full of you guys' jizz."
Suddenly, all eyes were on Rick, who went on shamelessly jacking
Damon's hard cock. There wee expressions of surprise on their
faces.
"Have you by any chance noticed there's a hurricane going on?"
Cotton asked sarcastically.
"What gives you the idea abstinence will save your neck?" Rick
said, reaching out and grasping Cotton's cock-bulge while he kept
jacking Damon's prick.
"There's a time for all things," Cotton said. "And this is
definitely not the time for fucking."
"That's easy for you to say," Rick said. "You've had plenty of fun
in your life. Me, I just started. And, by damn, if I'm gonna die in
this lousy storm, I'm going down with a cock in my mouth and
another one up my ass, 'cause that's what I want!
"I love it!" Lucky laughed, hanging onto the lurching helm.
"You're my kinda guy, Rick -- damn the torpedoes and full speed
ahead 'n' let the devil be damned! All right!"
Lucky reached back and grabbed Rick's cock, which was already
partially hard. Rick saw the spark of jealousy in Damon's eyes and
knew he had to act quickly. He dropped to his knees and took the
boy's hard cock into his mouth.
Sucking on Damon's cock, Rick cupped his hairy balls in one hand
and ran his other hand up under the youth's shorts to probe at his
sensitive asshole. While he titillated Damon's ass and balls, Rick
slurped his ovaled lips down his cock-shaft until his nose
contacted the frayed lower edge of the denim that now concealed
nothing. Damon's hard-on had lifted the leg of his cut- offs,
completely exposing his balls.
Damon looked at Lucky and they exchanged flickering smiles while
Rick fucked his face rapidly on the teenager's prick. Lucky was
glad Rick had chosen to suck Damon of first, because he was acutely
conscious of the boy's jealousy. And, as anxious as Lucky was to
make it with Rick again, he also wanted to share the thrills with
his young lover.
"You're a pretty good cock-sucker, for an amateur," Damon said,
running his hands through Rick's damp hair.
"Have you guys lost your fuckin' minds?" Cotton snapped, watching
Rick suck Damon's prick.
"Rick's right," Damon said, beginning to thrust his hips and fuck
his cock in the young stud's mouth.. "What the hell difference does
it make? If we're gonna go down, we might as well go down first."
"Very funny," Cotton said dryly.
"Their logic seemed perfect to me," Shawn said with a grin as he
unfastened his pants and flopped his cock out near Rick's face.
Seeing Shawn's prick from the corners of his eyes, Rick reached up
and curled his fingers around the Scotsman's hardening fucker while
he went on sucking Damon's cock. Shawn moved closer, rubbing his
drooling cock-knob against the handsome young man's cheek Rick
caressed the cock as it rubbed warmly against his face.
"Well I'll be goddamned!" Cotton snorted in exasperation. "I think
you guys have all--"
Abruptly, another mountainous wave swung the boat to starboard. The
Apollo listed to port dangerously for a second, skidding on the
slope of the giant wave like a surfer riding just ahead of the
curl.
Shawn, Rick and Damon fell into a heap in the corner of the
pilothouse. Cotton had grabbed the helm and was trying to assist
Lucky in righting the boat, which was riding a rising wave on its
side now. There was a moment of panic that saw all five young men
staring wide-eyed at the incredible sight of a world turned on its
side in the midst of rushing walls of dark, foaming waters.
"This is it!" Lucky gasped as he and Cotton spun the helm
uselessly, trying to control a rudder that was no longer even in
the water. "We're goin' down!"
Pricks wilted and faces paled as the Apollo rose to a new crest,
still listing forty degrees to port. The guys could see that a good
third of portside was underwater as the boat skidded crazily over
the billowing crest of another wave. They all held their breaths
when they heard the engine sputter and nearly stall. When the
engine began to roar again, everybody sighed in relief.
Then, as the boat zoomed wildly down the other side of the giant
wave it had just topped, the world slowly righted itself again.
Water gushed from the deck below as the Apollo rose triumphantly
into an upright position once more. With the rudder in the water
again, Lucky and Cotton were able to head the bow into the wind at
last. The engine settled into a droning purr as the props
synchronized once more.
"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!" Shawn said, making the sign of the cross
almost unconsciously while his limber cock swung from his open fly.
His red hair was askew and his face was pallid.
"Just look at yourself!" Cotton said, trying to conceal an ironic
smile. "Standing there with your prick flying at half-mast and
making the sign of the cross... I'll never understand you."
"I couldn't help it," Shawn laughed self-consciously. "It just
comes out during times of stress. Religious, that is -- not my
cock."
Everyone laughed, relieving the awful tension that had built up.
Rick got up from the floor and helped Damon up. But Damon stopped
when he got to his knees, bent forward and took Rick's flaccid
prick into his mouth quickly.
"No!" Rick snapped, yanking his cock from Damon's mouth, "I'm doing
the cocksucking this time around, man. Understand?" He patted the
top of Damon's head. "I deserve a mouthful of cum. You guys have
had more than your share already."