Emile LaCour, with his new chauffeur, Gage, in tow was gliding around the nighttime shadows of the docks along the banks of the Mississippi down river from New Orleans. It was in those brief hours between 1 and 4 A.M. when, for the most part, all activity was dead and the weak floodlights fought a losing battle with the morning fog to illuminate the bank-upon-bank of simple sheds providing inadequate cover for the crates and barrels being unloaded from the freighters wallowing back and forth at the dock on the Mississippi tide.
Emile pricked up his ears and moved with more purposeful direction toward one of the holding sheds. There he found what he was looking for. A older and wizened sailor was leaning back on a wooden crate, providing a younger sailor knelt before him a tutorial in giving good head. The older sailor, a burly red head, topless and his pants down around his ankles and with considerable curly hair all over his robust body, was leaning back on the top of the crate with his elbows, but occasionally bringing a hand forward to guide the youngster's head or to readjust his cock. The younger sailor, a long and lithe, well-muscled brunette was stripped to the waist.
"No teeth, Jaime," the older one was saying. "You must learn to get those out of the way. There, that's right. Now suck the head, Lad, and run your tongue around the helmet. No, lighter than that. There. Ahhhh, yes, now you have it. Feel my nice cock growing, Son? No use deep-throating and pumping until it's at least half hard. There, now, cover as much of it as you can. Tongue under dick. Ahhhh, yes, just like that. Feel the throbbing vein under it? That's what's making it grow, My Boy. Now slowly take it in and pull away from it. Slow strokes. Ahhhh, yes. Yes! Now faster. Ahhhhhhh."
Emile watched with great interest as the younger sailor followed the older sailor's direction, his hands fluttering all over the older man's belly, flanks, and chest, his back muscles and biceps rolling in the weak light from a nearby floodlight. This was the one Emile was looking for tonight. The young, pure sailor, only now learning to make another man happy. But the older, more experienced one, would give him a boost too. The older one firstβas a bit of funβand then the younger one, as the regeneration he required.
Emile bided his time, watching the younger man blow the older one and becoming more expert at it under the instruction of the older one, until Emile could see the older one twitching, ready to explode. He then rushed in, black cape unfurling behind him, naked to the waist, his gigantic tool and balls flopping in front of him, protruding from the crotch hole in his black leather pants. He grabbed the younger man by his shoulders, raised him to his feet, and tossed the shocked youngster back toward Gage.
"Here, hold him for me for later."