The Steamship Cleopatra 3
by Bald Hairy Man
This is a story about gay men and gay sex. If you don't like that DON'T read it. You have been warned. It is intended for adults to read, not for minors. It is a fantasy, not a sex manual. No effort to portray safe sex practices has been made. If you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com.
The next day I had to find new sleeping accommodations again. Our sister ship, the Ramses, hailed us as we passed them near Algiers. They had two passengers who had to get back to India. They had picked up mail in Tripoli and there was a telegraph message for a man named Ahmed Khan and his aide. Khan's father, the Maharajah of Mandapour, was on his deathbed and Ahmed was his heir. They had to return to India immediately. Khan was a fierce looking man of 25 with a huge, black beard and pitch black eyes. His aid was Major William Ap Evans, a Welshman.
I knew Mandapour had been problematic in the past. We transferred the two men to the Cleopatra with their luggage. Captain Lewis gave the future Maharajah his cabin and took mine. They made a space for Major Evans in the bunk room, and I found a space in the steerage cabin.
This was fine with me, but I didn't know if the Major was not a member of the fraternity. That turned out to be no problem at all. By now we were in warm waters and the ship was getting hot. The Captain allowed a certain informality in dress. I think the Bishop and Brigadier might have complained, but the view of semi naked crew members seems to have had a beneficial effect on their open mindedness. When I say semi naked I excluded Vic, who was always much more naked than semi.
Major Evans liked this arrangement. He wasn't the shy type and when he saw someone he liked he quite frankly stared. The first night he was on the ship he discovered the joys of the shower room. I later realized he had a nose for man sex; he could smell it. He wasn't in the shower for more than two or three minutes before he figured out the lay of the land; he had made friends quickly. A day later he knew everyone in the bunk house and steerage and had met the crew too. Evans and I became friends. I was in the shower when he first visited and we hit it off. More correctly his cock and my ass hit it off.
Evans had an average cock with a big head, but it hit every good spot in my ass. He was a master fucker. He looked me in the eye, understood my tastes and when I bent over, he knew what to do. When several other men joined us in the shower, Evan didn't show any signs of unease.
Later, Evans explained the situation to me. Ahmed was on a trip to Europe in advance of his ascent to the throne. Ahead of him was a lifetime of duty and obligation. He had a taste for men he would never be able to indulge as a Maharajah; this was to be his last chance to play.
"Ahmed is a good man, sensible, intelligent and with a good understanding of Mandapour and the needs of his people. He is as good as you ever get as a ruler of a princely states. This was to have been a final fling, but his father died too early," Evans said. "So early, in fact, I am a bit suspicious. Ahmed's bother, Ali, is willful in the extreme. If we dally, he may fill the void. The Viceroy could intervene, but that might make Ali into a hero. Ali is a spoiled brat."
"The Cleopatra is very modern and very fast," I said. "We can get you there as quickly as any ship can. If we refuel at Suez, we can go at full speed."
"The Captain is a good man?"
"He is the best there is," I replied. "The crew is top notch too."
"I will send a telegram the next chance I can saying we are racing at full speed to return the Rajah to his throne," Evans said. "That will sound impressive in Mandapour." Evans was a military man, but he should have been politician. When we got to Bombay the newspaper had stories of a modern steamship racing to carry a grief-stricken son to take charge of Mandapour. The article mentioned an ultra modern ship on it's way to an ancient kingdom, and mentioned that Cleopatra was a great empress, suggesting Cleopatra was the Victoria of her day. I suspected Queen Empress Victoria could hardly be less like Cleopatra, but no one seemed to care.
Evans changed the conversation to personal things. "We sure had some fun in the shower room last night," he said, "Does that happen often?"
"To be completely frank, yes," I said. "The Captain is an open minded man and has no problem with his men enjoying themselves."
"Am I right in thinking the crew and passengers share a common . . . open mindedness?"
"Yes, you are right," I answered. "As far as I can tell, all the passengers are partial to manly entertainments."
"Manly entertainments? I love that phrase," Evans answered. "Perhaps Ahmed with have a good trip after all." He looked me in the eye. "Ahmed is rather dark skinned. Is that a problem?"
"I rather doubt it. Have you seen our headhunter?"
"Is he actually a headhunter?"
"No, Not at all. Vic is a cheerful and playful man, and a hard worker too," I said. "The headhunter description is a bit of a joke. The head he likes is covered in foreskin. He doesn't chop it off, he peels it back and drains the fruit inside!"
Evans laughed. "That's my kind of head hunting," he replied. "He looks big."
"He's a top. If you like a full feeling, he's the man for you."
Dinner that night was a bit strained until Ahmed suggested we dispense with formality given the close quarters. "Until we reach Bombay, I'd rather be just a passenger than a Maharajah," he said. He spoke very good English without an accent. He was at Captain Lewis' table with the Brigadier, Major Jones Anderson, Major Evans and the Bishop. I was serving. Normally this was done by one of my assistants, but I was to served the Maharajah personally through the voyange. Ahmed tended to glance at the crotch of most of the men he met. I assumed Evans had clued him in on the tastes of our ship.
The conversation flowed easily and Ahmed, who was fierce looking, was interested in many things and a good conversationalist. He had a beautiful smile and a hearty laugh. I noticed he looked at Captain Lewis with clear admiration. Lewis was a very manly man, as was Ahmed. They got along well too. I wondered how that would work out.
Ahmed asked the Captain and Major Jones-Anderson to his cabin for a drink after dinner. I went to server the drinks. "You know Mandapour is liquor free, but I admit to liking the stuff," he said. He also asked the Captain's pardon for asking him to his own cabin.
"No need for that," the Captain said. "On a ship the cabins belong to whoever occupies them. No one ever thinks about the previous occupant." The cabin was on the top deck of the ship, but it didn't have canvas awnings shading it like the cabins on the lower decks. It was more than warm. I opened the widows but there was little breeze this evening.
"I hope you wouldn't mind if I take some of my clothes off. I know you are Englishmen who like formality, but the heat would be much more tolerable with less clothes," Ahmed suggested. "Feel free to get more comfortable. It seems there are no ladies on the ship to complain."
"Crude though it may be, Vic, our Australian Aborigine had a good approach to dealing with the heat," the Captain said as he took his jacket off and unbuttoned his shirt.
"He seems so well fed compared to our Indians. He's quite muscular too," Ahmed remarked.
"I have seen some impressive Indian Strong men," Major Jones-Anderson said. "The were great, bearded men, quite Hercules like in appearance. They were much like Sandow."
"Is he the German strong man with the leaf" Ahmed asked. "I think I've seen photographs of him."
"I saw him in the flesh," the Captain said. "More impressive in the flesh than in the photographs. I was at a private exhibition he gave on physical culture and body building. He dispenses with the leaf in those, since all the guests are male. He needs all of the leaf to remain decent. Sandow is impressive in every way."
Ahmed wasn't wearing and undershirt, so when he took his shirt off, his broad, muscular chest was in view.
Captain Lewis and the Major removed their shirts too. They were an impressive group if you like muscular men. I liked them as did Ahmed.
"Forgive me for saying it, but you, my dear Ahmed are quite the specimen yourself," the Major said. "You could rival Sandow."
"Thank you for saying that, but you exaggerate," Ahmed said. "With this thick coat of curly hair on my chest, I don't look much like a Greek statue."
"The hair makes you look more masculine. It suits you," the Captain said. "Do you exercise much?"
"I use to wrestle," Ahmed said. "I may have been good at it, but as the Rajah's son there is aways the chance people let me win. I was never sure. Did you wrestle?"
"Only informally, I did some Greek style wrestling," Capitan Lewis responded. "I enjoyed it, but was never good at it. The Major here had the body of a wrestler. He might be a better match."
"Quite frankly I suspect Ahmed could take both of us," Major Jones-Armstong said. "My wresting days are well behind me."
Ahmed smiled. "Was the Greek style wresting done in Greek wresting costume?"
Captain Lewis laughed. "Not at first, but that changed. I'm afraid clothes and wrestling are a poor match," he said. "I must say the nude matches were better fought. Did you fight nude?"
"No, but I have no objections to it. Manapour is technically a Muslim state, but that strict religions is tempered by an older religion worshiping a tribal god. That god is unnamed, and without an image, but is represented by the divine lingam. Some still wrestle nude in his festivals."
"I take it the tribal god is a form of Shiva?" the Major asked.
"I see you have studied Indian religion," Ahmed said. "That would be my guess also, but he is regarded as our own god, rather than the more general worship of Shiva."
"Do the festivals culminate in orgasms?" the Captain asked.
"They do. You studied ancient religions?" Ahmed asked.
"No. I you could say it was a lucky guess," Lewis said.
"In the first matches the looser drinks the man seed of the winner. In the final match the victor deposits his load in the loser's ass," Ahmed said. "You must find this ancient rituals barbaric, crude, and offensive. I apologize if you are offended.
"No offense taken at all," the Major said. "I hope you wouldn't think of me as a dirty old man, but I'd love to watch the festival. They strike me as being exciting."
"Hell, I'd like to wrestle in one!" the Captain said.
Ahmed smiled broadly. "Even if you lose?"
"Especially if I lose!" he replied. "Have you contemplated losing?"
"I have neither won nor lost in these festivals," Ahmed answered. "I have never drunk another man's seed, nor fed him mine. I have thought of it often."
"I feel like wrestling!" the Captain exclaimed, "Are you game, Major?"
"I am," he replied. To emphasize the point he dropped his trousers and exposed his semi erect cock. That acted like a starting gun at a race. All were naked and wrestling in what seemed like seconds. The Captain told me to strip too. He wanted a playmate for the Major while he took care of Ahmed. Ahmed said he was new to man sex. That may have been true, but if it were, he would have been the fastest learner I had ever encountered. He certainly jumped into the wresting match with both feet.
Officially I was there to serve drinks, but I was pulled into the fray. Ahmed looked strong, but he was much stronger than he looked. Under a thick pelt of black hair was a body of steel. He wasn't a bully, or overeager to show his strength. He liked body contact and manipulated the wrestling match to make sure he made contact with us. It was hot and we were all sweating like pigs. Sweat would provide all the lubricant we needed.
Ahmed was like a cat playing with three mice. He was totally in control, but wanted to make things last. He was pinning the Captain when the Major's tongue made contact with Ahmed's cock head for the first time. From that time onward we abandoned any pretense of wrestling. The Captain was the primary focus of Ahmed's attention. I assumed the Major and I were there to provide extra sperm, or a warm ass for Ahmed's entertainment.
That may have been the expectation, but that did not take into consideration Ahmed's huge sexual appetite. He had a mouth, asshole, and two hands. He was happiest when all were occupied. He was vigorous, and it was a while before I saw his organ fully erect. He moved too fast to get a good view. His genitals were too big to be pretty. I saw it after the Major sucked it. The shaft was thick, long and covered in veins. He had apple sized balls barely contained in a fur covered sack. His sexual equipment wasn't pretty but it was exciting.
While he was a Maharajah he was a democrat with respect to cock. He let me feed on his member and seemed to like my technique. It was difficult to take his knob, not to mention his entire member, but I did my best. I concentrated on the rim of the head where it joins the foreskin. He shivered a little when my tongue touched the thin filament of skin on the underside of the head. This produced a thick blob of his ball juices too.
I was much taken by Ahmed's rich and sweet balls juices. My tongue followed the trail to his slit. Men's slits can vary from a pinhole to a wide gash. His was perhaps three quarters of an inch wide. I got my tongue into it and intercepted the juice as I suctioned it form his balls. It was almost as if I was tongue fucking his cock. I loved it, as did Ahmed.
Ahmed was a magnet for the three of us. At one point Ahmed sucked me while the Captain sucked him and the Major ate out the Rajah's hole. The Major had a slight lisp caused by an unusually long tongue. I assumed all of it was in Ahmed's ass. Ahmed had two fingers in my hole and was playing with my nut to increase my flow of precum. The Captain said I was a heavy leaker. Some men found this unattractive. Ahmed did not, he was milking me.
While we had been at it like dongs in heat for a while, we were still all fully loaded with balls brimming with seed. Much to my surprise as I thought this, I actually said it alound. Ahmed laughed. "I'm sorry. I forgot to tell you I have quite the opposite of a hair trigger. Usually it takes a tight hole to get the prize."
"There are three of us who can help relieve you of the load," the Captain said.
"I have a second confession to make," Ahmed said. He was still smiling. With dark brown eyes and a massive beard and thick eyebrows, Ahmed looked demonic. With a smile he was a handsome, young man with a slightly impish look. "One orgasm doesn't drain the pipes. It takes two or three to get relief."
"This is your lucky day," the Major quipped. "It may well be a lucky day for all of us!" We all got lucky.
When Ahmed spoke about orgasms he was looking directly at the Captain and the Captain looked at him. They understood and shared the same desire. I had never watched the Captain get fucked before, but I knew this would be the time.
"How do you like it?" the Captain asked.
"On your back with legs on my shoulders," he said. "I like my fuck mates totally submissive, or at least incapable of serious resistance." With that comment I decided Ahmed definitely wasn't a virgin.
Ahmed was a man of many surprises. He was a lover more than a crude fucker. Huge and crude as his cock was as he worked it into the Captain's ass it was beautiful. While the shaft was pitch black, the head was iridescent lavender with a pink undertone. The rock hard knob looked like a highly polished rare stone. Beads of quivering pre cum continuously dripped from his slit.
By contrast Captain Lewis ass was all soft and pink. It was slightly puffy and I assumed someone had been in earlier that day. I ate him out to lubricate him. I tasted sperm. For some reason, I thought it was Vic's. In the center of the pucker was a pink and pretty rose bud. It seemed impossible Ahmed's man rammer would fit. The Captain was drooling pre cum. I used it to lubricate Ahmed's knob.
Ahmed spread open his slit with his fingers and positioned it at the rose bud. The Major and I held the Captain's legs so he was wide open. The rosebud disappeared in the slit. Ahmed pushed gently and played with the hole, opening it wider with each push. He was using his pre cum to lubricate the opening. I could see the hole relax as the Captain got more excited. When the head was in to the flared edge, the Captain squeezed tight. Ahmed moaned.
Ahmed pulled out, twitched and spurted a single ribbon of sperm. He ejaculated only once, but it was a impressive display. The Captain's hole hadn't closed yet, some much of the seed shot into his rectum. A second later Ahmed re entered and went deep. The Captain's eyes crossed and the massive dong slid effortlessly into his ass. Now the real fucking started. It was hard to tell who like it more, Ahmed or Captain Lewis. After ten minutes or so of heavy fucking, Ahmed completed the orgasm he started. His whole body shook when he ejaculated. The Captain's cock began to spurt, Roman candle style.
We were holding the Captain's legs so Ahmed's hands were free. The scooped up the Captain's seed and greedily licked it off his hand. It may have been my imagination, but I thought Ahmed's ejaculations intensified as he tasted his playmate's seed. They pulled apart.
Ahmed looked at me and ordered me to play the bitch as he played the dog. I was more than willing. He was still hard and he rammed me. I went to the moon. He calmed down as he fucked me.
"It's hard for me to calm down after an orgasm," he said. "Your ass is nice, tight and warm. He fucked me gently for perhaps 20 minutes, by then the Captain had recovered and was hard again. Ahmed was wide open and the Captain nudged his cock into Ahmed's behind. Ahmed sighed in pleasure. He was sucking the Major as he fucked me and the Captain fucked him. He was a happy man. Eventually we all traded sperm. Ahmed took the Major's in the mouth and the Captain's in the ass, as he made a deposit in my ass. When we broke apart he grabbed, worked two fingers into my ass and sucked me until I shot off. I had what could only be called a gully washer. Ahmed loved it and took every drop.