Gay Greenhorn on the F/V Lost Agnes
Gay Male Romance
Two men fall in love working on a crab boat in the Bering Sea. Carson graduates from college and goes to Alaska to prove his worth to his homophobic father by joining the crew of a crab boat. Artie is a seasoned deckhand and exposing the secret of his sexuality will ruin his career and livelihood. The men discover their mutual attraction early in the season, and they struggle to hide their sexual and emotional relationship from the rest of the crew. When an accident threatens Carson’s life, he flees the F/V Lost Agnes to return to Georgia, forcing Artie to choose between the life he knows on the Bering Sea and a life with Carson in his world. (Inspired by Midnight Train to Georgia by Gladys Knight and the Pips.)
I felt bad for the guy.
A fuckin’ college degree don’t teach you how to work on a crab boat in the Bering Sea. The crab don’t care if you took philosophy and if you talk in big words. And trust me, the captain and crew care less than the crabs.
It was his first trip out, and he was sick as a fuckin’ dog. Even sicker than most of the other guys I seen on their first trip. I could tell just by lookin' at him that he never been on a boat in his life. Probably never did a day of hard work neither. His fuckin' hands were probably as smooth as a baby's ass.
His name was Carter or something, and he was from the south. Real south. Not like Seattle south, like me. Alabama or Georgia or some shit. The captain called him "College Boy," but nobody knew where he actually went. He coulda studied basket weavin' or "liberal arts" for all we knew.
He was a big guy. I was almost six feet tall, and he looked to be about three inches taller than me. He was bulky too. Not a fat guy or nothin', but he looked like he spent a bit of time in the gym. He had a baby face with smooth, pretty-boy skin and neat, short hair. The rest of us looked like we worked hard every day. We had wrinkles and gnarly beards and shit. Probably never spent a day workin' outside, that's what I thought.
We weren’t even to the fishing grounds yet, and I already knew that there was no fuckin’ way this greenhorn was gonna make it. Even Captain Rich was makin’ fun of him, and he don’t usually talk to new guys.
I took the last drag on my cigarette and threw the butt over the rail. “Fuckin’ greenhorns,” I said out loud, shaking my head.
“You okay, buddy?” I asked, shouting to be heard over the wind and the massive waves. It was January, and the Bering Sea was her usual angry self.
“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know,” he said before retchin' over the rail again.
“It’ll get better,” I said when he finished. “Your first time on a boat, huh?”
“Obviously,” he said. He rested his forehead on his arms, which were folded on top of the rail.
“Look,” I said. “Look up and focus on the horizon. It’ll help.”
He tried, and after another round of tossed cookies, he settled a bit. “It’s Carter, right?” I said.
“Carson. Carson Higgins,” he said, wipin' at his mouth with his sleeve.
“I’m Artie. Arthur, actually, but they call me Artie. How old are ya, Carson?”
“Twenty-one. I’ll be twenty-two next month. If I live that long,” he said, tryin' to shake his head.
I chuckled. “You’ll make it. Everybody goes through this their first time.”
He turned to look at me, and I could tell how miserable he was. “Really?”
“Well, maybe not quite this bad, but…” I smiled. He retched again. “Horizon, buddy. Focus on the horizon.”
Sexcerpt (XXX if available):
Greenhorn made the first move. He sat next to me on my bunk and put his hands in my hair. He slid them into my beard and pulled me toward him. I opened my mouth before his lips touched mine, and I slipped my arm around his shoulders. I ran my other palm along his stubble like I wanted to that first time we sat in this room talkin'. I smiled because it tickled but kept kissin' him anyway.
"Okay," I whispered between kisses. "Maybe just a little kissin'."
He moaned into my mouth and dropped one hand into my lap. I gasped when I felt his hand wrap around my cock. I was wearing loose sweats to sleep in, and he got a good grip right from the start. After three or four pumps of his fist, I could feel the wet spot on my pants from the pre-cum.
He slipped his hand into my pants, and I swore that I was gonna shoot right there when his smooth palm slid down the length of me. I moaned and adjusted my hips so that I could pull my sweats down around my ankles. His hand was as soft as it looked. Not calloused, like mine.
Carson got to his knees in front of me. I wanted to stop him. I had to tell him it was a bad idea. That we'd both get thrown off the boat if anybody walked in and saw us. I couldn't make my mouth form the words in time though. His blue eyes looked up at me, and alls I could do was put my hands in his hair and hope the guys were still sittin' at the table in the bar, gettin' plastered and startin' a fight. He smiled around my cock and started to blow me.
At first, he just sucked, letting his head bob into my lap. I forgot how warm and wet a mouth felt on my cock. Then he licked up and down my shaft, over and over while he sucked me. I shuddered. I knew I wouldn't be able to hold out long.
Over a fuckin' year. It'd just been too long since the last time my dick was in somebody's mouth.