The Sailor's Dream

As Liam continued to turn her, the only sound was the breathing of the crowd of excited males, till a wistful voice joked, "Ye lucky Fenian bastard." This precipitated a chorus of concurrence and commentary lauding her attributes and calling each other's attention to those features which they found particularly alluring.

"Her skin is like ivory."

"I must ha' been a fecking eejit to believe she be a lad."

"How I'd love to have ahold of those hips and...mmmm"

"See how fine her teats jiggle!"

"Her arse is a song!"

"And I want to sing it!" gasped Fletcher, the youngest of the crew, a lad of Anya's age, who was staring up at her with his mouth hanging open. The men burst out laughing.

When the laughter ceased, the quiet question was heard: "Did ye have her virginity Liam?"

Liam nodded solemnly. "Aye. We had three days together before we set sail...and none since." A few envious sighs were heard.

"Why ye barely got started, ye poor lad."

"Amen to that!" Liam said, grinning ruefully down at his blatantly tented trousers. All the men were in a similarly disturbed condition, standing bare-chested in their trousers or drawers with the fronts protruding. They shared a chuckle of male camaraderie.

At this juncture, Liam stopped her circling motion so that she faced him, his hands upon her hips, her body little more than a foot away. He looked up at her still face from his kneeling position. "Anya," he said quietly. Her eyes opened and met his searching gaze. Her expression was unfathomable, but her luminous regard enflamed him. His grip tightened upon her hips and his eyes moved deliberately over her body. After a moment of heated contemplation, his hands slowly followed: up from her hips to her waist he traced --- her willowy waist that he could nigh encompass with the span of his hands. He knelt up as his hands continued over her ribs...his face now level with her chest, his eyes affixed upon her breasts, observing their subtle quivering with her breathing...then after an agonizing pause, his hands closed over them.

All round the table came gasps and groans, both with bawdy delight at the act itself, and with stupefied comprehension that the extraordinary night was becoming even more extraordinary. The crew stared agog as the scene unfolded.

Liam's hands cupped her ripe paps, reveling in the warm weight and soft skin. They filled his large calloused hands to perfection with no overspillage. He stroked and squeezed...he lifted and released... and lifted and released again, proudly demonstrating their delectable springy bounce --- for his own gratification as well as that of his comrades who groaned with vicarious pleasure. His fingertips circled her softly standing nipples and brushed back and forth over them.

Under his touch, he felt her quickened breathing. One hand now slid to her back, while the other cradled and compressed the base of her breast such that the succulent cone projected towards his face. Leaning forward and opening his lips wide, his hot mouth covered the end of her teat. Scattered whistles and encouraging calls broke out round him. He pressed her closer and suckled voluptuously, the velvet of his tongue swirling round her nipple, his lips drawing upon the hardening flesh, all with his laboring trouser front rubbing against her leg.

The alteration in Anya's demeanor became apparent to the watchers. From her previously rigid posture, her head now tilted slightly back and to the side, lolling against her upraised arm that held the beam. No longer squeezed shut, her eyelids drooped dreamily, the brush of dark lashes heavy upon her flushed cheeks. Her lips were ever so slightly parted. The subtle symptoms of her sweet arousal escalated the men's lust, setting their swollen cocks a-throb in their trousers.

Liam's mouth continued to play with her breast for several moments before letting it gradually slide free, his lips drawing together over her skin, her areola, and finally her nipple. The men sighed at the sight: the tip of her breast was now a bright pink color, her areola tight, her nipple stiff...and all of it glistening with spittle. 'Twas so delicious that Liam had to give the little berry another round of fluttering licks and tender sucking kisses.

He sank back to his heels, his hands moving down her back, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along her belly as his head moved lower. Below her navel, he held back for a pause, his eyes fixed upon her tempting bit of pussy fur. Ever so softly he blew upon it, his warm breath tickling over the sensitive spot. When she shivered under his hands he bent his head and planted a kiss upon her mound. His excited comrades hooted in approval. "Aye lad, that's the way!" "Hooo hooo --- the bogtrotter knows his way round a bit of quim!"

Leaning back a little, he held her hip with one hand while the other slid forward to her belly. His eager fingers dallied in the soft curls, lightly at first, but becoming increasingly purposeful as his motions progressed to circular rubbing of her mound just above her notch. Indeed, with each upward pull of his fingertips, the men directly in front of her were blessed with a brief tantalizing peek at the start of her pink lips.

Liam felt the tension grow in her body, her mound unconsciously pressing against his hand, her hands coming to rest upon his head. Watching her face above him, he saw her mouth open, then she was staring straight into his eyes. He was drunk with desire at the whiskey glow of her eyes. He abruptly grabbed her wrist and pulled her small body down over his broad shoulder, kneeling up simultaneously so that he hoisted her off the ground, her hips slung over his shoulder, her head down, her feet in the air. "Liam!" she squealed. The men cheered. He held her hip with one hand and the backs of her knees in front of him with the other. Struggling for balance, she grabbed the back waistband of his trousers; he felt her breath upon his bare back.

Turning slowly upon his knees, he triumphantly displayed her to the randy sailors, inciting a reverent chorus of groans and panting. Words were unequal to the vision. Bent over his shoulder, her upturned bottom was an erotic masterpiece...her cheeks so audaciously round and ripe, so temptingly separated by the shadowed cleft. Above it the sudden dip into a tiny waist, and below it the curve and faint crease where her buttocks met the backs of her thighs. And...mercy!...the hint of pink at the center of it all!

As Liam continued to rotate, he turned his head and kissed her warm cheek. His hand slid up the back of her svelte thigh from her knee to her arse. His work-hardened palm moved over one smooth buttock then the other, fondling and stroking the delightful roundness, then he trailed a teasing finger down the silky cleft. She squirmed atop his shoulder, her mound pressing into him. Moving in from her outer hip, his other hand now joined in, such that each big hand, fingers outspread, grasped a supple cheek. His caresses grew more passionate, squeezing and kneading, as his breathing became increasingly heavy.

Gradually his massaging fingers encroached deeper and deeper into the crevice. Without forewarning, his grip upon her resilient flesh all at once tightened, and he spread her buttocks apart. Her yelp was lost in the eruption of whoops and gasps from the men, who crowded each other for a closer view. Despite her squirming, Liam kept her firmly positioned upon his shoulder as he again turned round to show her to all his comrades. 'Twas an image for the ages...this lovely wee lass, naked and bent over the strong shoulder of their shipmate, her bare feet kicking in the air, her firm buttocks wriggling in his hands as her helpless bottom was held open to reveal her charms. As she was rotated in the lantern light, they all had a brief look at her pink cunny lips and the shadowed dimple of her arsehole.

Young Fletcher cried out in despair as he was elbowed back by the other men. "Oh, please Liam! Please let me see her cunny!" Liam released his hold and her cheeks sprang back together, followed by sounds of disappointment from the men; he stopped rotating, facing the side of the table from whence the plea had come. "Oi lads --- steady now." His hands skimmed down the backs of her thighs and decisively pulled her legs akimbo, leaning forward as he did so to set her feet back upon the table, nigh a yard apart.

Unsteady from the upside-down spinning, she swayed slightly and tried to right herself, but the gentle pressure of Liam's hand upon her back forestalled her motion and guided her torso even lower so that she was bent double from the hips, her legs spread wide, her hands upon the tabletop to steady herself, her long hair spilling down. A commotion ensued: his frenzied comrades rushed round to the side of the table behind Anya, jostling each other for the most favorable vantage point.

O his sweet Anya! How enchanting she was in her tender distress! The shy girl struggled against herself, maintaining the vulnerable stance into which he had positioned her --- her stretched legs trembling, her upside-down face red --- as more than two dozen randy, able-bodied sailors gawked at her most secret charms, most fortunately situated at the level of their faces. The extreme posture forced her buttocks apart and tipped her pelvis up, so that her naked vulva and bottom hole were completely exposed to their scrutiny.

"Corrrr..." someone croaked.

Her cunny was a most comely, compact article, befitting her petite figure. The saucy little sprig of dark curls that garnished her mound dwindled away at the forward end of her outer lips, revealing the rose pink of her sex. Between the soft pout of the outer lips, her inner lips were dainty petals, ever so slightly parted to hint at the inlet to paradise. Forward, they joined to coyly shield her pleasure bud. Aft, the final embellishment to the vision of erotic beauty was the tiny pink prize of her anus.

"Saints be praised...!" came a groan.

"She looks untouched," another observed reverently. "Did ye have her flower true?"

The disorder behind her gave way to a spirit of camaraderie as the men in turns jostled their way up to the coveted front row at the table's edge, fewer than two feet away from her. Having received Liam's nod of consent, they leaned nearer still, but remained mindful not to touch her. Anya stood valiantly pliant, the brave lass...pliant as a multitude of hot breaths coursed over her thighs, cunny, and arse. Her eyes were shut --- fortunately so, for if she were cognizant of just how intimate an inspection was being made of her charms, her mortification would have been acute indeed. For the lust addled seamen were now making so bold as to hover even closer, inhaling deeply, to know the scent of her fresh young pussy.

Fletcher had made his way to the first row, and eagerly pressed forward, his face just inches from her bare vulva. In rapture his eyes drank in all there was to see, breathing deeply in and out, his nostrils flaring. He licked and bit his lips, squeezing his stiffstander through his trousers, fighting his all too evident urge to lick her. "O sweet cunny!" he moaned. "Sweet...sweet cunny..."

By this time Liam had knelt up from his position in front of her leg, leaning his torso round the outside of her thigh to have his share of the display. But soon 'twas insufficient merely to look at her beauties --- he could not resist her. He lifted his hand, and with one finger brushed over her inner thigh, just next to her cunny. She started; her anus winked most fetchingly. "Ahhhhhh," sighed the watchers.

The brush of his finger became a light, oh so tickling line that he traced along her soft skin, parallel to her outer lip, up to her buttock, circling round, an inch away from the teeny radiating folds of her bottom hole, down the other thigh, across her mound, then back round. In such a manner he drew a circle round her treasures, but intentionally lifted his finger from her to jump over her morsel of bliss. Several times he made the teasing circuit, till he felt the agitated wiggle of her hip against his chest. His fingertip shifted from her mound to just graze the silky start of her notch, and he heard her short exhalation of breath as if she had been holding it.

His own lust and sense of mercy now happily coincided: he slid his finger full onto her clitoris. Between his bare chest against her thigh and his finger upon her, he felt her body suddenly still. He palpated the little bud, overjoyed to at last have the core of her pleasure in his hold. With the pad of his finger he gently rolled the hood over the nubbin. Round and round...rolling...rubbing...feeling her tension mount. The scope of his caresses gradually expanded as his finger stroked back along the delicate edges of her inner lips...then to return to twiddling her bud.

Clitoris...lips...clitoris, clitoris...lips...his eager finger parting her petals to feel her moistening groove, keeping his wrist angled to afford his comrades an unobstructed view of him stimulating her rose. And indeed, her shyness proved no match for his persuasion --- under the gaze of the twenty-six men, her little cunny was blossoming wantonly. Her clitoris and lips were quite visibly swelling and becoming a most alluring bright pink. With the effect of their growing turgor, her inner lips tilted apart --- a primal signal of readiness that riveted their eyes and cocks. 'Twas clearly noticeable to the men that the lovely lass was in the same distress of love's pressure that they were; just as their engorged cocks stood striving in their trousers, so too did her engorged clitoris stand erect and imploring.

Anya's hips were subtly rocking side to side with Liam's continued fondling, and her lips were slippery under his finger. His motions paused, his excited breathing audible; he shifted his hand...with his forefinger and thumb he spread her little lips open to show his shipmates her state. Groans all round as they saw the glistening cleft and the dew drop of female nectar obscuring the diminutive opening of her vagina. "Ohhh look...how wet she grows!" "The most perfect dewy rose." "Have mercy Liam --- the poor lass wants a fuck."

The pain of anticipation was fast exceeding Liam's forbearance. He let go her lips and pressed the tip of his forefinger directly upon the pearly droplet, rubbing in circles at the orifice from whence it had welled. Tipping his finger from side to side, he found the point of give. Wriggling and pushing, he buried his big digit up her snug cunny. "Hooooo!" softly burst from her lips, while the men cheered.

Aye! Lovely cunny! 'Twas even sweeter than his fervid imaginings had remembered it...hot, wet, so tightly clasping the length of his finger. He wiggled the tip inside her, savoring the responsiveness of the muscular channel. Slowly he pulled partially back...then pushed back in...and repeated, building momentum in his short thrusts till his finger was steadily rub, rub, rubbing her inside. Her hips began to sway. Between her legs, the men could see her flushed face and open mouth.

'Twas a most fantastical scene. Here the two of them were --- upon the table in the crew's quarters, Anya naked and bent over, him kneeling beside her, fucking her cunny with his finger --- surrounded by the tented trousers and bawdy commentary of his roused comrades.

By and by he drew his finger completely out and displayed it in the lantern light, slick and shiny with its coating of lass cream. There followed a chorus of groans. "Oh God...look at her honey!" someone called out hoarsely. The groans deepened as Liam brought his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. "Oi Liam! How does she taste?" "Aye --- tell us!" He gave a last lick to his finger, and a lusty grin overspread his face. "Like heaven, lads...finer than the finest whiskey, so she does."

His hand returned to her cunny, but with the taste of female upon his lips, all reason fled him. His large fingers fumbled greedily upon her delicate pussy lips. His body was in turmoil, possessed by the visceral need to penetrate her with his cock. He had never imagined this night would unfold as it had, and if he had at any point contemplated a more wholesome termination to this exhibition, any such notion now vanished. Anya and he were at last together: her cunny was roused and wet and his overready cock was keen to go. His hands dropped, and he feverishly began pulling open the buttons of his uniform trousers.

Liam's unrigging inspired a two-fold epiphany for his shipmates. The first was the realization that even the few points of etiquette observed by seamen in the realm of earthy matters were henceforth being completely abandoned. The second was heralded by a sudden hush falling over the men when Liam dropped his drawers.

They stared in awe at his magnificent cockstand knocking against his belly. A good length right proper, but 'twas the girth that was most enviable --- a robust thickness unrelenting along the entire shaft, capped by a broad meaty head. They had shared quarters with him for nigh two years but had never guessed that the young Irishman was so advantageously endowed in the weapon of amorous engagement. Had it ever crossed their minds, 'twould not truly be so unexpected, as it was in keeping with his impressive frame.

Liam was the tallest, and among the strongest of the crew, with wide shoulders and lean muscles earned, like the rest of the men, through years of physical labor. Despite their frequently joshing him for being Irish, he was a man whom the crew were proud to have among their ranks --- his physical prowess proven in skirmishes and storms at sea, and alehouse brawls ashore. Although they knew him to be a congenial lad with a sly sense of humor, one whom they had oft witnessed dance a jig with a pretty barmaid, they knew nothing of his carnal pursuits --- unusual among men living in such circumstances. 'Twas well known that he eschewed the comforts of the quayside lightskirts and bawdy houses while on shore leave, indulging instead his preference for bookshops and shipbuilder's yards.

The second epiphany was the glorious realization that they were going to witness this strapping young man take this wee lass, here upon the table before them --- to watch that prodigious cock breach that little cunny. As they took in the sight of the young couple, now both naked, such a feat scarce seemed possible. Side by side, the disproportion in their sizes was striking. Why he was more than twice her weight! And as for the crux of the matter, the diameter of his erect organ exceeded the measure of her cunny from thigh to thigh!

They were nigh drooling at the prospect of the astonishing spectacle. Following Liam's lead, they happily made free to release their own straining cocks from their clothes. Unabashed they applied to their organs spittle or olive oil from a tin cannister that was passed round.

Liam was now lying on his back upon the table; he had taken ahold of her hands and was scooting under her to position his head between her spread legs. "Kneel down, Anya," he urged, tugging upon her hands. "Sit on my chest." She sank to the table, her knees flanking his chest, facing his lower body. Her warm, lithe weight eased down upon his chest --- her thighs and mound pressing against his skin.

At the opposite end, the sailors could observe her blushing face as she was confronted by the engorged beast between Liam's legs. Her big brown eyes were transfixed by it. Her pupils dilated and her lips parted. A chuckle came from the crowd. "Look right well lass. 'Tis a man's tackle, as fine as ye'll ever see." "Aye sweetheart, are ye ready for it?" "If ye can't manage it, ye can have yer pick of these!" Her dazed eyes lifted to the circle of bare chested men round the table, well-greased pegos in hand, grinning at her with good-natured ribaldry.