Seafarers tale
foreign

My name is Jack, better known to all and sundry as Jack the Rat, with another enthralling tale of my lusty adventures. I am a sea salt with years of experience of the high seas and the lowlifes that populate it. I have been at sea so long that when ashore I have problems walking a straight mile. Me dad was a second mate on board an old tramp steamer, and when me ma passed away, me dad took me into the service and left me brothers with an aunt in Bristol. Me aunt was a right river, and me brothers had a childhood any young boy would wish for. My own introduction to the world of high jinx amongst the riff raff of the ships, and ports was no worse than theirs. Just my selection of female talent was broader, so I bear them no ill-will. This tale starts off on a voyage around the Cape from Portsmouth running cargo, for one of the big trading houses. We had been out to sea, for months, calling on various ports, to drop off and pick up cargo. We had little shore leave, and none of me mates, were keen to share our meager pay with the wharf rats. The crew was fed up with months at sea on dry rations. The captain peeved at his wife for some petty squabble decided to put in at an East Asian port. Of course the crew was anxious to go ashore, but the packrat bided his time. From long experience I knew that the closer to sailing at high tide the better the hunting offshore. Every night the lucky crewmen that went ashore would stagger back up the gangplank with long faces and their money all a spent, would of necessity forfeit shore leave till next payday. I would watch them recovering from their debaucheries ashore, and bide my time. Their tales of daring do would enthrall us for many a long night aboard. Though we all knew, like the fisherman’s tale of the one that got away, they never really did much of what they supposed, and much less of what they told. At last the first mate announced that we were off on the next high tide. By my calculations that gave me about ten hours ashore. I put in for leave, and packing a small duffel bag, walked ashore. I put me some of me pay, in one of me best socks, and rolled it up carefully before stuffing it in me back pocket. I was well aware of the strategies of the wharf rats to lift a ship rats pounds before he was aware. The port area, smacked of rancid humanity as I picked my way though the throng boarding a ferry. I walked past some dusky beauties, wrapped for all their worth in glad rags, that though they hid the girl, couldn’t hide the spirit. Having never been ashore in these parts I walked to the harbor masters office. There I enquired of the port pilot, where he thought was a good hangout, one light on the drink but heavy with many women. He directed me to a place a fair distance from the port. I hailed a taxi, and climbed into the rickety excuse for private transport. On arriving in the area, I enquired of the taxi man if there was indeed a club there, as the area was derelict, and nary a soul stirred in the roaming. He assured grinning crookedly through a mouthful of token tatters, that the seamen only started coming after dark, and that it was a rollicking great pick up point for really warm bodies. In the meantime there was a public house around the corner where should I so desire, refreshment was served to all the needy souls, in need of sustenance and replenishment at all hours, to all manner of man, and his kith and kin. Hastening my way to the blockhouse, come alehouse, I was at first taken aback, as it likened to a ramshackle barn, with a bunch of local louts, holding up the walls, to prevent it toppling in on myself, and me seamen mates. Inside the rotten wooden floors straw was strewn around liberally, to prevent the mess from sinking under the poisonous soil. I walked up to the bar and ordered me first ale. The glass offered was nary clean, so I quaffed me brew as delicately as possible straight out of the broken bottle. Before long me eyes unfortunately adjusted to me dingy surrounds and were able to make out me fellow revelers, by peering closely at the rum rats. What a bunch of flotsam and jetsam, from the poorer parts of the city they were too. I had been in many a place, and stood me drink and any that wanted a brawl, but never, in a pit like this before. All along the walls, men in rudimentary toiling cloths, a great throng of the unwashed and unloved, stood and watched the plumb centre of the room. In this centre, a damsel was a busy removing her clothing, piece by part, agonizingly slowly, teasingly, tantalizing all the men, enthralling them with her spell. All the men in the room had their eyes nailed hard and fast upon her. They were all a wishing they could sail down her straights to her narrow, to pass the gates of paradise. She was young of years, but ancient in the wisdom of the streets, soiled by men, carried by beasts, and fulsome of breast. A lovelier vision of pulchritude had not passed my bows, in many a long year. At last she stood naked and unashamed, before the throng of lusting men, revealed in all her malodorous glory. Not that she was much too look at mind you, or had that much to entice the rummers, but she had an air about her. You know what I mean, that air that says, look all you want, but this ship is out of bounds to any that would sail her. You can look, admire me, love me even from afar, but that’s as far as you go. Bored with her, and her slow enticing sinuous damning dance, I turned back to the companionship of me faithful ale. I took a long pull at it, a long pleasure filled drag, and slow swallows and laid me glass down, with a sigh. The next I knows there she is standing at me elbow. A devils grin on her face. Those large ruby lips beckoning me, saying words that fell like strangers pleas for a dram, at the pub. She pulled at me, she prodded me. She stood on her head and beckoned me. That smile of hers, that’s what, got to me in the end. Or that Ale, or beer or was it the wine. Whatever was I drinking? Such a smile was never meant to be bestowed on such as me. I’m for it now I thought before she dragged me onto the floor. Then naked as she was she started to dance me around, and around. Then she pushed me down onto the floor, and before all those assembled she proceeded to palm Willie. Willy being unabashed, and unashamed as the day he first saw the light stood rigidly to attention, and saluted her maneuverings. Shouted and screamed for attention of her hand. Throbbed, and beat, drummed on me, begged me, please let her please me, please let her release me. Quick as a flash, she had me tress off of me, and proceeded to engulf willy, in a hot wet mouth. Poor Willy, how he suffered, how he nearly died, sacrificed to her manipulations. How he shook as with ague, as with fever for her ministrations. She sucked him here, she pulled him there, her hands and mouth ever busy, with the poor blighter. As he felt the pull, and the push, the loquacious fellow let rip, with a hot stream of water, aimed at her mouth. She of course swelled it all, like candy it was, for she licked her lips greedily. Poor Willy, with his stream all done, could stand no more. He half-heartedly tried, but got no further than my naval, where he sunk without clue or trace. Only then did I notice the gathered fellows, and their helpmates. Some were busy, in the grim darkness plaguing what pleasure they could, from their wan members. The damsel, for such she was, waved at them, and kissed me adieu. Her lips were encrusted with spend, some wet, but mostly dried hard to her face, like an ancient scab and I turned my face away. She stank of old come, dirty sex, and sour wine. I smelt, almost felt her moving away from me, light on her feet. She left the room as I was looking for me trews, on the dirty floor covered in the dregs of beer, sperm and humanity. Groping blindly about in the dark, I found me glad rags in a crumpled heap, not where I had draped them awhile ago. As I tried to clean them off, I felt about in the pockets. Needless to recount, that my pay neatly wrapped, as it was in one of my socks was gone. I still miss that sock. It was a neat pair. Needless to say, she was nowhere to be seen, but from the jeers of the scum draped about the walls they had enjoyed the show. I bear them no ill will as me need was seen too, as was hers. They were obviously highly amused, and me mates were regaled with tales of the dusky princess that had been boarded and worshiped at the rising of my mast. I almost forgot to mention that me mast is still rising and never fell overboard from some disgusting disease, as some other boat rats, after that port o call. Chapter 2 My Faithful Friend. My name is Jack, better known to all and sundry as Jack the Rat, with another enthralling tale of my lusty adventures. I am a sea salt with years of experience of the high seas and the lowlifes that populate it. I have been at sea so long that when ashore I have problems walking a straight mile, especially with a yard of me faithful ale aboard. Me dad was a second mate on board an old tramp steamer, and when me ma passed away, me dad took me into the service and left me brothers with an aunt in Bristol. When me younger brother done growed up, he joined me dad and me on board a old tub out of Bristol, bound for Goa. Now me dad and me had been on the high seas for years and thought we had seen all there was to see about the human condition. Me brother had been left in the care of me aunt and was used to sex regular like with he and her clan for years. At sea this a hard life for there are no women to break the monotony of endless water. So the youngster was let loose with a yen for a daily dose of sexing in a boat where there weren’t any. For a week he held out, gritted his teeth or used his hand for a little light relief. Though sooner or later the yen would grab him, and shake him to his core. So we sailed with this bomb on board, ready to explode at the slightest chance. Of course the old hands were used to the head, a few old pictures and their scabrous hands. The youngster had never learnt to shiver the old mate, in the head, as his aunt had provided for all his needs and was building up a head of steam. Of course being the younger of the family me dad and me used to rag him about the life he now leads. We were well aware of his adventures with the old biddy that cared for him and the rest of me dads brood. Though neither me nor me dad had ever tasted her boundless offerings. Needless to say, he hated the seaman’s life with a passion, and was wont to jump ship at the first opportunity he had. After a weeks sailing we put to port on some forsaken African land. We offloaded some cargo, and were in port for less than twelve hours. As the time was short, none of me mates went ashore. We worked in teams, offloading the cargo, and once the manifest was signed and high tide came round we weighed anchor and set off for Goa. None too soon thought I as the weather was hot and we sweated to offload. The younger was scarce, after we left port. We saw neither hide nor hair of him, for days at a time. He would eat in the mess, stand his watch and disappear. When me dad asked him why we hardly saw him he muttered some excuse and walked away. Needless to say if me mates want to stay and be with themselves, that’s fine by me. A sailors lot is a lonely one by all measures. If he wanted to be alone, that was his problem. A week after our last port of call, the captain called all hands on deck. He told us that the cook was missing food, and they suspected stowaways from our last port. The captain ordered a search of the ship. The younger and me went and searched the bow. As we entered the anchor room, the younger tried to lead me away. This aroused my suspicions, of me younger’s intention. When he walked off, I ducked under the chain hoist, and peered into the darkness. There me eye saw a bed, and the missing food. Me younger knew the stowaway was there and had been helping him. Being a crafty old salt, biding my time we reported nothing to the captain. That night after mess, me younger left me and me dad at the cabin, and went his own way. After me dad went to sleep, I shimmied out of the cabin, and made me way to the bow. As I walked to the anchor room, the hollow raucous sounds of coupling reached me ears. Following the sounds, carefully as it was quite dark me eyes spied in the dim light me younger dismounting from another body. Feeling me younger was playing chums with another mate me accosted him. What are you up to? Me asked of him. What do ye mean? He replied. Who was yon body you were shagging, I asked. Nobody, none of your business, He Replied, Go away, mind your own business, he almost shouted at me. Now if he was playing games with one of his mates, that’s a dirty business but his own concern. If he was playing with a stowaway, he was placing both me and his dad in jeopardy. I walked to the other body, with the younger trying to pull me away. The younger’s best efforts were bound to prove fruitless as me interest was now piqued. I peered into the dim light and saw a most amazing sight. There she was this dusky young girl, just her pearl white teeth clear as day in the night. She had no modesty, and wore not a stitch of cloth upon her. She smelled of musk, old sweat, and dirt. I turned to face me younger, but he had made himself scarce. As I gazed on her she placed a hand on my shoulder and drew me to her. Despite her overwhelming smell, and the stench of urine nearby, my Willie was drawn to her wet, willing chasm. Willie reacted with aplomb, and steely manly determination. As he plugged away at her yawning pit, tickling the sides of her womanhood I could hear her giggling. Willie battled valiantly to keep his end up, in that immense expanse. After Willie had emptied weeks of emotion into her cavernous tunnel, and it swallowed all his water, I withdrew from her. She let me stand, and then turned away hiding her face in her hands. Perhaps she did not want me to see her laughing, hopefully from happiness, and not something a little less than that. When I asked her who she was, where she was going, and what she was doing on board, she stayed mute. From her teeth, glinting in the dark and smiling, me thought she knew what was said but made no sign. I left her and wended my doleful way to where me snoring old man lay, and crept silently into me bunk. Next morning me and the younger had it out. After cornering him in the stern, me asked him what she was doing aboard, and what did he intend for her. He told me he had picked her up at our last port of call and she though we were going to London. Well then you have yourself some problem said I. He was thinking of leaving her at our next port. Until then what were we to do I asked. Just enjoy what we have he replied. Since you know all about her I can expect you to keep mum he said. As I had already enjoyed her wiles, as had Willie I declined to not participate. With my whole body we used one another, both in fear of discovery. So for that entire trip we had it all laid out for us. We shared the girl, amongst us, and luckily nobody else discovered her, or we might have had to share, or been in trouble deep. She never spoke to me, but the younger who was educated and spoke some French, would sit and discuss with her. I never said a word to her, but she knew and fulfilled all my needs, and oft times her own. She was excellent, and always ready. Poor Willie though he stood his ground bravely, was clearly out of his depth. I respected her patience with someone that brought her nothing but food, security and safety. When we docked in Goa, we smuggled her past the watch, and customs. We arranged a small lodging for her, and left her with a small stipend. We set her up, for at least a year, I believed. Anyway we sailed off to Bristol with another cargo, and I lost track of her for years. The younger would visit her whenever we docked in Goa but I never went with him, although I oft wonder why. Many years later I docked in Goa. On shore leave I went for a pint of me faithful Ale. As I left the Alehouse me younger with a tall damsel that looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth spotted me and invited me home. I accepted and went with them. They lived in the best part of town, in a mansion surrounded by flowering bougainvillea hedges, overlooking the sea. The house was fitted with the best of everything from all parts of the world. We sat to drink a pint of my faithful friend, and as we drank a serving girl came from the kitchen with dinner. Being busy with me younger and me friend I never recognized her. Not till I left and she gave me pleasure, for old time’s sake, one more time.