Your Day in the Barrel

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This would be a prudent time to mention that the use of oil-based lubricant with latex condoms is not recommended. Let's just say this is Acme Corporation Wondrous Latex(TM)?

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This room was always a bit different on the nights when Mikey wasn't around. It was quieter, more reserved. If the barrel was new to you, you could ask him for help going through the motions and he'd demonstrate. Alan only gave you hints. The crowd could smell all that macho bull musk filling the air, with Mikey's soft femme presence not here to balance it out. No one was saying a thing.

"Don't be shy," said Bjørn, tapping his foot, quaking his ass against the crate. "Your entire crew has been so helpful."

"I appreciate that, sir," Alan beamed. His cock was rising to the occasion fast, forming a damp spot on the lap of his britches. But it couldn't be him tonight - it just couldn't. Despite being a proud gay man, at least while aboard, there were things that Alan just preferred not to do.

Bjørn groaned. "Doesn't anyone want to make me happy before I leave for good?"

Terry and the two newer cadets were content to watch. Calum wasn't thrilled either. He'd only topped once before, and he hadn't managed to stay hard.

But that was not with a captain - a legendary captain. It would be a very long time before Calum had a chance like this again, if ever. This would be like fucking an actual Norse god.

He was fearful, but determined. He stood up.

"Aye, sir," said Calum. "I will top you, sir." And once again the crowd cheered.

His eight-inch boner was standing proud in his britches, perfectly horizontal, and it sprang back and forth as Calum drew them off his legs and laid it bare. The docker's skin was a narrow turtleneck around the end of his shaft, but down near the base it loosened, spreading out into diagonal wrinkles on his shaved pubic mound and making his dick look like a sprawling mountain.

Calum stood behind Bjørn's legs, hugging them in his biceps and adjusting their hunky bodies into a parallel. He lightly massaged the captain's rock-solid buttocks, and then he spread them apart, exposing his prim, pink bussy. Calum's shaft was aimed at it like a missile, and the cadets gazed on them both with wide eyes and hard-ons of their own.

"Hang on a second," Alan interjected. He moved to the shelf and back, and in his hand was the Protection box they'd all seen. He tossed Calum a condom.

"And remember, you need a lot of lube," he added.

"A lot," chuckled Bjørn.

Around the lips of his hole, Calum applied the mineral oil, until the skin was white and glistening. Then he sank a lubed-up finger inside, and then a second, applying the soothing substance to the captain's interior walls. Pleasurable jolts tore at Bjørn from within, and his breath seized in his lungs for a second while his mouth curled into a smile.

Drained, but happy to watch, Bastien sat at the side of the room while the redhead pulled back his skin and fitted himself into the safe latex sheath. Across its outer surface, Calum slathered on a thick new covering of lube. He got the latex good and wet, little rainbows glowing on it in places.

"I love your cock so much," Bastien told his best friend, looking in his eyes with admiration. Now Calum was ready. With one more deep inhale, he swept his legs forward and penetrated the captain's ass.

The forceful growling sounds of the captain started up right away. His sphincter was throbbing, vibrating from wide to narrow to wide. At each vibration Calum nudged further in, carefully fitting himself to the shapes of his alimentary canal. The squelches of the oil rang across the room, mingled with the deep blissful purrs of the alpha bear.

"Fill me up," Bjørn commanded. "Line me. Pack me."

Calum's hands were on his hips, and with a grunt he thrust them back and forth into Bjørn. Then he thrusted awkwardly again, but soon he found his rhythm, and Bjørn found which way to thrust to help him out, and the ginger was mounting him, breeding him. Calum squinted and bit his tongue from the feeling, his tender dick squeezed inside those mighty intestinal muscles.

He pulled off his vest and spooned the captain's rear end, sharing his skin-to-skin contact and hot perspiration. He made sure to rub his sensitive nipples against Bjørn's back, giving himelf a new turn-on. The docker's muscular chest moved as he let his own stream of grunts and curses out from deep down inside. Calum's were low, but the Norwegian's were like thunder. They blended back and forth.

"Yeaaarrrrgh..."

"Fuuuuuuck..."

Every man in the room was boned up as they looked at the captain. Beneath his body, they watched his own musclebound prick pushing up against his abs, all shrouded in that fine, curly nest of hair. Meanwhile, Calum's virile balls were bouncing up and down, churning with sperm. Bastien walked to his side, tugging and feeling at his sack.

"Oh, fuck, Bass, that is amazing," he was whispering. "Oh, fuck, keep that up -"

Calum had intense sensitivity here, and his mouth flew into even more sounds when his friend joined in, watering and drooling. The captain bit his lips. Being topped hurt, but it was such a pleasant kind of hurt, the dick sliding around inside from the smoothness of the lube.

"Ugh... are you close yet?" inquired Bjørn.

Calum's breathing was becoming sharper, more like a race to the finish.

"I - I might be -"

Bastien dropped to his knees and suddenly began to lick Calum's balls, and he squealed with sensation, blowing air out of his cheeks. Just at the same time, the captain tensed up the muscles in his ass, hugging the docker's big shaft with a force he would never have thought possible. And then he vibrated them all again, and then a third time.

It was too much for the redhead. He hissed through his teeth, and then his jaws opened wide, into the pure and happy screams of his orgasm. Hot, potent love juice poured out of Calum's manhood, into the soft wet rubber. The heat of his load hit Bjørn like a tidal wave from the inside, boiling against his walls and passing all through his body, through his soul.

"Bravo, Calum," said the black docker. "And good job to you too, Captain. it's been a pleasure. Good luck to you in your next great adventure -"

"I don't think he's done yet," replied Alan.

While Calum cleaned up and pulled his pants on, Bjørn was posing again. The end of his hard-on was swaying around from the tremors inside his root, making the head randomly flick back and forth and left and right. Mad purple blood was bunched up inside his swollen tip and the end part of his shaft.

"He needs to cum so bad," Terry remarked.

"Who's gonna help him out?" asked Alan. His hand was buried in his pants, stroking his moist tip. "Mind if I do?"

There was a sudden thud from behind the barrel wall, some clunking sounds, and then up the steps came Sam, holding his contraption in his outstretched palm like some kind of superhero. They had their answer.

"Quick, he's in the mood -" the first mate started to say, but Sam was already upon him. The captain stood up straight, facing the crate-chairs, and Sam lifted the contraption beside Bjørn's cock, which was almost as high up as his neck. Then he moved the toy in on the alpha, and all at once his purring shot into a roar.

"YAAAARRRGH!"

Sam clenched his fist around the invention, pumping on Bjørn with might and main. His penis was perfectly sized to just fit inside the metal, its helmet-like head rubbed all over by slippery bristles. The captain's face was a network of sweat and fur, his jaw open and his eyes hanging out of focus while steady howls rumbled out of him.

"I'm gonnnnnn... ahhhh, fuuuuuuck!" he was shouting, after a minute flat.

Sam sped up his bate, and turned the finest layer of bristles against the captain's underside. His right hand brushed against the big ballsack just in time to feel its familiar tightening, and soon the room was filling with the primal, animal roars of the captain.

The mechanic left the end of the toy open, and he nudged its side, pointing Bjørn's phallus straight up at the ceiling. Half a dozen pairs of eyes were on it as it sprayed a gigantic fountain of seed three feet in the air. Splatters of the hearty, savory juice showered across Bjørn's balls, trunk and legs, and on a bit of the floor around. The cadets could smell it, even feel its warmth.

"Whoa," said Terry, too raptured to offer anything else.

"And - I just came - this morning," said Bjørn, amid labored breaths and laughs. "You should see me - when I'm blue-balled -"

Once again the audience saluted the visiting captain. He was suiting up, still having to pack his steamer trunk tonight. The mate shook his hand as he walked out, still coated in orgasmic sweat.

"Thank you so much. All of you. Your entire crew," said Bjørn.

"No problem," Alan answered. "I hope we meet again sometime."

In fact, they would. Soon.

Just not under the circumstances they thought.