I can already see the shape of your semi-firm manhood straining to be free and I eagerly allow it just that. Your jeans and boxers come down all in on... go and your excited part springs free, angling towards my chest.I lick my lips to wet them and my hand wraps around your shaft. You give that soft moan that I love to hear, that makes me aroused just to know I can bring out in you, as I stroke your stiffening hardon. A steely hardness builds just beneath the fleshy warmth in my hand and I bend. I'm glad."He looks up then past me, shocked, "Your family doesn't believe in restraint, does it?"I look around. Alex has yet another guy pinned to the nearest wall. "Alex? Definitely not." I also see another man look at our table and head toward us. He a tall thin black man, whom I don't recognize but clearly — by the sudden smile on his face — Ryan does. "You're new friend?"Ryan doesn't answer just stands up to meet him. "Scott, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine. This is Peter. Peter,. He grinned. "I've just set a new record for rejection," he said."Perhaps," I replied, "You may buy me a glass of white wine and maybe I'll listen to the rest of your pick up routine." I flashed more warm smile.The banter moved on. He bought a bottle of wine and we drank most of it. He turned out to be 28 and was already a 12 year veteran and captain of a west coast fishing boat that plied the dangerous waters of the Alaska gulf. He was not married and not in any substantial relationship.I. 'Tell me about yourself, Rosie, ' I said, and she shrugged.'There's not much to tell, darlin'. Been married a couple of times, 'ad lots of lovers, and Gawd knows 'ow many 'undreds of casual fucks. I always loved bein' fucked since I was a girl, an' it seemed I couldn't be faithful to anyone. I've been called a whore and a slut often enough, an' I s'pose that's what I am. The last bloke I lived with was black, and 'e called me 'is 'white whore'. 'E used to be rough with me — I loved that, though.