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Lace was crossing the deck and apparently he had decided to be elsewhere.Her gait was like a dancer crossed with a cat. Most sailors were graceful in a relaxed, loose-boned way, but she walked like the ship was moving right where her feet wanted it to be. There was a sharp edged confidence to her. She wore loose grey trousers that had dozens of tight, neat stitches holding together places where the fabric had torn. They’d once been black, but the color had long since faded. Her shoes were little more than slightly padded leather slippers laced across the ankle and top of her foot. A wide belt hugged her waist, dotted with closed leather holsters with small tools in them. At the small of her back was a wide, squarish knife, the sort Will had seen used in sugar cane fields. It was like a short machete with a sharp hook on the back. She wasn’t wearing a shirt. Instead, she simply bound a wide strip of red cloth around her smallish breasts and tied a knot in front. At nearly any port it. Show Mark how grateful you are," she said, a thrillingly firm edge to her voice.She must have remembered me telling her about my pleasure in sucking cocks, and knew I would understand. This would be the first time since Ben, and the morphine binge that had sent me to Margaret ... I blanked my mind to the past, and dropped to my knees in the straw, in front of the youth. My hands followed the timeless ritual, unbuckling his belt, pulling down his zip, his trousers, his pants..."Oh god I don't believe this!" Mark sobbed as I took his cock in my hands. It was large, and almost hard already.Sarah stood close to us, and as I peeled back his foreskin and licked delicately at the swollen head of his prick, she put a hand behind his head and drew it to hers. I heard them kissing as I savoured the musky, sweaty taste of teenage sex. I was amazed; I had never imagined that she could be aroused by a man, though I knew her so little in reality. Our love had blossomed for just those two weeks,.
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