I had been kept out of the dancing by the light touch of my possessive Captain upon my shoulder, yet the touch had grown more demonstrative as the liquor flowed and the night wore on. By the end of the dancing my mistress could no longer keep her hands out of my opened blouse or out of my unbelted trousers, and I found it a pretty game to rub my c**t kittenishly against her almost absently penetrating digits. I leaned over the railing at the fore of the poopdeck, fondling mine own n*****s dreamily, glassy eyes locked upon the wanton feminine orgy below, while my mistress clutched with one hand at my supple young buttocks and slipped her other fingers ever deeper into my welcoming slit.
The Captain had to carry me below that night. She f****d me two or three times before I passed out, and
