Here is a masturbation scene from my M/M historical Saltwater Lover. It was my first M/M book and might always be my favorite. Set in 1800 it takes place mostly on a slaving vessel. Captain Mather knows it isn't wise to fall in the love with the cargo but...
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A fuzzy feeling wrapped around his head. Still, the picture of the big African with his square jaw, tall limbs, and lean muscle was as clear as before. He was a fine male specimen. Lust, like a giant squall, suddenly shook him. Damn!
The crew was not happy he had let the African keep the bead around his neck. They said he was just inviting trouble. How much trouble could a bunch of men and women in chains do? He hadn’t had a revolt yet—he credited that to his fair treatment of the captives—and he didn’t plan on allowing one. Dismissing their fears, he said guarding the cargo was their responsibility—that’s what whips, knives, and guns were for.
The rum began to take effect. He took off his blue wool waistcoat and walked over to his bed, sinking heavily onto the insufficient mattress. Sleep did not come. He tried to remember the last time he had fucked a man. It had been too long. He ran a hand down his face.
As he age, the lovers became fewer and fewer. He had gotten used to coming at his own hand, but it wasn’t the same. Now his body demanded a young, handsome lover with skin the color of the midnight sky.
He slid his hand into the front of his breeches and fondled his balls, picturing the man with the fiery eyes watching him. It was wrong, but he couldn’t stop the images. Bewitched. The man, likely in his mid-twenties, infested his mind like a delectable disease. Mather grunted. Despite staying in good shape, and looking younger than his years, no white man of that age would come near him.
The captain had stayed away from where the man was chained, not seeing him since the night on the beach. He wanted his mind to forget the man’s rippled chest and hardening cock, but the vivid fantasies continued. He longed to feel the man’s bare chest underneath him, to kiss his plump lips, and look into his deep brown eyes as he came.
He imagined it was the African touching him. He unfastened his breeches, letting his swollen cock spring free. He sat up, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Yes, the young African was stroking him, his dark fingers sliding down his whole length. It didn’t take long for Mather’s orgasm to build. Precum poured from the slit of his purple head.
He sped his palm in frenzied motions, feeling the heat of the man’s gaze. The power of his fantasy was more than he could take. He grunted to hold back a moan. Come spewed forth, pulsing out of him. Shivers of delight coursed through his body. Mather shuddered, the climax sending a second impressive spray of semen out of his body and onto the floor.
He’d gone way too long without a lover. Way too long. I’ll have to remedy that soon.
Happy Masturbation Monday!
Shiloh
A fuzzy feeling wrapped around his head. Still, the picture of the big African with his square jaw, tall limbs, and lean muscle was as clear as before. He was a fine male specimen. Lust, like a giant squall, suddenly shook him. Damn!
The crew was not happy he had let the African keep the bead around his neck. They said he was just inviting trouble. How much trouble could a bunch of men and women in chains do? He hadn’t had a revolt yet—he credited that to his fair treatment of the captives—and he didn’t plan on allowing one. Dismissing their fears, he said guarding the cargo was their responsibility—that’s what whips, knives, and guns were for.
The rum began to take effect. He took off his blue wool waistcoat and walked over to his bed, sinking heavily onto the insufficient mattress. Sleep did not come. He tried to remember the last time he had fucked a man. It had been too long. He ran a hand down his face.
As he age, the lovers became fewer and fewer. He had gotten used to coming at his own hand, but it wasn’t the same. Now his body demanded a young, handsome lover with skin the color of the midnight sky.
He slid his hand into the front of his breeches and fondled his balls, picturing the man with the fiery eyes watching him. It was wrong, but he couldn’t stop the images. Bewitched. The man, likely in his mid-twenties, infested his mind like a delectable disease. Mather grunted. Despite staying in good shape, and looking younger than his years, no white man of that age would come near him.
The captain had stayed away from where the man was chained, not seeing him since the night on the beach. He wanted his mind to forget the man’s rippled chest and hardening cock, but the vivid fantasies continued. He longed to feel the man’s bare chest underneath him, to kiss his plump lips, and look into his deep brown eyes as he came.
He imagined it was the African touching him. He unfastened his breeches, letting his swollen cock spring free. He sat up, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Yes, the young African was stroking him, his dark fingers sliding down his whole length. It didn’t take long for Mather’s orgasm to build. Precum poured from the slit of his purple head.
He sped his palm in frenzied motions, feeling the heat of the man’s gaze. The power of his fantasy was more than he could take. He grunted to hold back a moan. Come spewed forth, pulsing out of him. Shivers of delight coursed through his body. Mather shuddered, the climax sending a second impressive spray of semen out of his body and onto the floor.
He’d gone way too long without a lover. Way too long. I’ll have to remedy that soon.
Happy Masturbation Monday!
Shiloh
