In truth, it was Braxton who had found himself wanting this. With all his heart and soul, he had found himself craving the touch of the young sailor. His uncle had been right, he realized, he had been needing this. Calvin swallowed back the lump in his throat and took hold of the groaning barmaid. With trembling hands, he pulled down the skirt, letting it pool around Braxton’s feet, then the blouse. Ripe breasts fell free, sagging almost to his navel as Braxton turned to face his lover. Calvin’s blue eyes glittered like fiery sapphires, seeing his lover fully for the first time. Like the groom meeting his bride in the wedding chamber, he could only stand, utterly enraptured by the beauty which now draped a slender arm across his pendulous bosom. 

“D-Don’t stare like that.” Braxton’s cheeks were scarlet, yet the smile could not be wiped from his black lips. “I get embarrassed. I-It’s not right, you know, for me to have these.”

Calvin took hold of that arm, gently moving it aside, though Braxton offered no resistance. His breasts, so full and soft, rose with the labored breaths which rattled in the grey cat’s chest as he gazed back at the sailor. Now, Braxton would reach for Calvin, peeling the old vest to let the garment fall to the floor. Then, seizing the damp shirt, he raised the worn fabric up over the sailor’s head. The broad, hard muscles of Calvin’s chest brought a thrill to the cat. The ripples of his stomach, the strength inherent in every fiber of the sailor’s mein. Braxton shuddered, feeling so very weak in the arms of such a powerful cat. His thighs closed together, though it would not stop the flowing of his gaping anus, which wept with the need to be filled by the throbbing member which strained beneath Calvin’s breeches. Braxton instead would wrap his arms around the cat’s neck, his bare breasts pressed deliciously against the hard pectorals of Calvin. His lips sought the mouth of the orange and white cat, claiming now the sailor as he too, was claimed. 

His tongue slid between Calvin’s fangs, running gracefully along the red gums to lap the smoothness of his teeth. Calvin’s arms were around his waist, closing hard so that there could be no escape, not that Braxton ever wished it. One leg rose, hooking around the slim waist of the sailor and Calvin’s firm palm would meet the round cheek of Braxton’s rump with a hearty slap which rang out in the small room. The stinging pain, the way those fingers closed around his fat butt, all would make the grey cat giddy. He felt his world spinning like the time he had snuck a bottle of his uncle’s best whiskey. A smoky, rich flavor which made his fur bristle as the floor became the ceiling. He tumbled, falling onto the bed, not realizing that Calvin had borne him to the mattress. His lap spread itself wide, thighs parted, Braxton laid back, his claws grasping the headboard. Calvin knelt above the strange male, his gaze imperious, conquering as he looked upon his kingdom. His fingers traced the swell of a ripe breast, clutching the jiggling orb. His lips met the erect nipple with a kiss, spreading, wrapping around the soft flesh so that his tongue did leap and swirl around the black areola which dared to thrust itself from a sea of steel grey. 

“O-Oh,” moaned Braxton. He gripped the headboard hard, his claws digging white furrows into the wood. “A-Ah, Calvin, you greedy baby. There’s no milk in there.”

Calvin suckled with relish at the rigid nipple plucking his lips from the wet, slick flesh. His fangs bit down as he pulled back, tugging the sensitive flesh so that pain and exquisite pleasure would wash over Braxton, threatening to sweep out to sea on that giddy tide of ecstatic bliss. The grey cat laid his damp head back, his spine arching, pressing his heaving breasts towards the sailor. His nipples glistened, his sweat like a sugary glaze which coated those fat, sweet pears. But Calvin was descending now, his kisses raining down upon the flat, rippling belly of his love. The waves of Braxton’s stomach rolled beneath his lips, sliding along his pink, hot tongue as he lapped the delicate navel of the mewling barmaid. The color of his fur was like the sea, grey as slate and moved with the slow grace of the tide. Braxton shifted a hip, his belly turning, bringing Calvin to slip further down, plunging into the tangled jungle of the cat’s pubic fur. 

The scent, the damp, hot aroma of sweat and musk would stir the young sailor into a frenzy. So close to that throbbing pillar, the veins swelling from beneath the ebon flesh, he plummeted into the pungent weave, tangling his tongue into Braxton’s fur, while his nimble claws did grasp the cat’s thighs. His breath billowed against Braxton’s cock, the barmaid suddenly crying out as lips pressed against his rigid flesh. 

“Oh, Calvin no,” he sobbed. 

The young cat placed a hand to his mouth, his lips to his knuckles as he watched the young sailor take his cock in hand. Gently, Calvin began to stroke, sliding down the throbbing rod, then back up, his fingers tracing the webbing of veins which pulsed beneath the taut flesh. His mouth came to graze the plump, velvet glans, the tip shimmering with the fat droplet of glittering precum which sat like a glistening jewel atop the gaping urethra. Calvin’s eyes widened, staring at that sweet drop, his mind racing. Dare he? It was another male, but when he gazed back into the eyes of the waiting Braxton, seeing how full of expectation they were, of want and of need, how was he to refuse. 

“Oh Calvin,” said Braxton. You mustn’t.” His clawed fingers fumbled at his erect penis, seeking to ward his unsheathed manhood from the eyes of his lover. 

“Nonsense,” whispered the sailor and plucked the hand of Braxton away. “It’s a part of you, how am I to refuse it.” 

Licking his lips, he met that glistening tip with a kiss which would bring a howl to the lips of Braxton. Across the quay, there came the shrill whistle of a ship, the sound cutting through night like a dagger, yet even that was not enough to stifle the shriek of such jubilation which was torn from the throat of the grey cat. Calvin’s lips pressed further, shimmering now with the salty, bitter precum which wept from Braxton’s tip. His mouth parted, his lips wrapping around the shaft. Without a thought, he plunged, his nose tickling in the tangled fur of the grey cat’s pubic area. The heady aroma of Braxton’s musk enthralled him, spurring him to pull up, to close tight around that quivering rod of manly flesh, to milk the screeching barmaid who dug his feverish hands into the thin blankets and gripped as if they alone would save from from being lost on that dark sea of intoxicating elation. 

Braxton threw his head back, his mouth slack, his belly swelling, clenching tight with each expelled breath that puffed from his burning lungs like the hot blast of a blacksmith’s furnace. His vision swam, his head was spinning. When he opened his mouth, only a muffled groan could escape from his black lips. Still, the young sailor would not relent. The cruel, wonderful Calvin, the young cat who sat alone at the table, the last patron of his uncle’s dismal tavern, now plunged back down, faster, harder. Never slowing, he rose. Never stopping, he fell, suckling the hot, throbbing flesh, leaving Braxton’s cock slick and shiny with his saliva. Braxton’s fumbling hands lashed out, grasping the cat’s head, guiding him, leading him down into the dizzying abyss of his pubic fur, now back up to slurp the glimmering precum which flowed so freely from his tip. The wet pop of saliva, the squelch of Calvin’s lips, such was the symphony to accompany the belly aching moans of Braxton. The barmaid’s balls began to churn, fattened by the fresh seed which sought to erupt with the explosive passion of his love. 

“O-Oh, I can’t hold it any longer,” the cat cried. 

Calvin plucked his lips from the quivering shaft and rose up from the weeping Braxton. The grey cat reached for the waist of his breeches, tugging them down with aid of the sailor. Calvin’s manhood leapt forth, a pink saber of throbbing strength to contend with the ebon blade of the barmaid. His body gleamed radiant in the silver shaft of the pale moon, a glowing Adonis to set against the smoky perfection that was Braxton. The young barmaid made a thin mew and rolled over onto this belly. His ass rose up, the cheeks parting to allow Calvin a glimpse at the tight, wet button which was blossoming like a flower. The sailor took hold of those cheeks, catching the glint of emerald from the watchful eye of his lover as he then lowered his head. Thumbs slid between the firm globes of the cat’s rump, spreading his buttocks wide. Braxton whimpered, his legs opening, giving himself to the sailor whose hot breath blew wet upon his shivering ring. His tail, as slender as a bullwhip, curled above them as those familiar lips met his ring, the rough tongue darting for his slackening anus. 

Braxton’s belly clenched with a scream which shook the rafters, fairly shaking the tavern on its rickety foundations as Calvin’s squirming tongue slithered deep to penetrate his hot core. Back, Calvin would slide, rubbing the shuddering walls of Braxton’s rectum. He swirled around the cat’s anus, plunging once more into the depths of Braxton’s shivering tunnel, licking at the trembling prostate. His fingers once more would curl around the shaft of Braxton’s cock, stroking the cat’s penis until tears did stream down the hot cheeks of Braxton. The grey cat gripped the headboard, shrieking his love for all to hear while Calvin’s thick slurps were met with the faint slap of raw flesh as he slid up and down Braxton’s cock. The grey cat’s arms were numb, prickles racing up his hands as his strength floundered and he fell to the bed. He grabbed at the pillow, his screams only stifled by the musty down which filled that lumpy sack. His balls were churning, roaring for  a release he could not hold back. His cock lurched, spurting its shimmering precum onto the blanket. 

“I can’t,” he sobbed into the pillow. “I can’t…”

Just like that, the mouth was plucked from his gaping ring, leaving his ass to tremble in expectation of what new torture the young sailor was about to carry out upon his surrendering blossom. The petals opened before him, Calvin’s cock came to nestle into the slick, wet anus of Braxton. His heart thrilled, for while as a lusty young feline and not his first time, never had he met one such as Braxton. He leaned down, his belly lowered to Braxton’s back. One arm wound itself around the cat’s stomach, fingers spreading beneath Braxton’s navel. The grey cat’s belly tightened beneath his fingertips, muscles swimming below the supple flesh. His other hand was still curled around the barmaid's weeping member, preparing to stroke that pulsating rod. Braxton bit his lower lip until he feared it would bleed, his heart racing out of control. He hugged the pillow to his sagging breasts, nipples tender with the need for that quivering rod to pierce him, but also of the terror which came with the knowledge that he was soon to be taken by the lusty sailor and his swaggering bravado. 

“Ready?” asked Calvin.

His cock nudged at the gaping anus, just beginning to press itself into the opened ring. Braxton could not speak, dared not utter a word, but nodded his head, his face buried into the pillow. Calvin bucked his hips, his manhood plunging, sliding in deep to seek the trembling core of the barmaid who could only whimper into his pillow, his shoulders shaking visibly. His cheeks parting, his ring stretching, the cat let forth a cry into the moldering down of his pillow. Calvin’s pulsing manhood, throbbing with the raw strength of the sailor, plunged deep, piercing the whimpering Braxton’s core. The grey cat’s belly swelled, growing bloated with the meat of his lover. Calvin’s hand began to circle Braxton’s lower belly, coaxing the cat to relax his stomach, while he stroked with a renewed vigor. Agony, blissful torture washed over the weakening form of Braxton. His cock wept, his balls ready burst like ripe peaches as the sailor pulled back. Braxton’s ring closed around Calvin’s rod, his stomach clenching, growing tight, lest the orange and white cat should dare to slip free. But, his fears were groundless, for Calvin stormed bravely forth, plunging once more into the depths of his lover to strike home against the shivering gland which rang out with the ululating cries of Braxton. 

The grey cat tore his face from the pillow, arching his head up to wail his love. The siren song of Braxton’s pained shrieks, the quivering of hot flesh in his hands, spurred Calvin to thrust harder, faster. His mind was overwhelmed with the hot lust which demanded that he dominate this wanting creature. He pumped faster, moving with a relentless pace, growing only more bold as he reached his mouth to Braxton’s ear. Hard, white fangs nipped at the furry lobe, pain red and hot bursting in Braxton’s brain. The grey cat screamed his desire, turning his head so that his mouth did find the waiting lips of Calvin. Their mouths met, tongues plunging forth to lash in the open air, twining in a sensuous dance that was all their own. Strings of shimmering saliva glimmered in the moonlight, glinting with hints of fiery orange from the baleful eye of the lantern which burned dully from the table. 

Their lips met once more, the wet smack of raw flesh to accompany the slap of their pounding bodies. In his frenzy, Braxton’s fangs closed on Calvin’s lip. The iron tang of blood was on his tongue, inflaming his senses, his body surrendering utterly to the sweetly pulsing rhythm of Calvin’s hips, which would not cease to drive themselves with relentless fury into the dripping anus of the barmaid. Sweat dampened their fur, making humid the tiny room. Beads of condensation gathered like the evening mist upon the small window, running in thin rivulets to bead on the leadened glass. The jolt of his nipping love would rouse the young sailor, his manhood plunging deep, he would not pull back, but thrust harder, daring to penetrate Braxton’s very essence. His nimble claws stroked the ebon shaft, stirring his lover into animalistic frenzy. Braxton’s screams resounded, a chorus to the grunting moans which ushered unbidden from the mouth of Calvin. Gone was all semblance of will, their minds given to lust, to the sway of their damp, perspiring bodies. 

Braxton’s balls churned, unable to hold back any longer. “Calvin, I-I…”

The orange and white cat bucked his hips, driving the grey cat into the bed. The rickety frame shook beneath their tumultuous bout, threatening to splinter as Calvin pushed deeper. His tip met the trembling gland, rubbing around the swollen orb, nudging and caressing so that Braxton could not hold back the tide of his manly essence. The grey cat let out a final cry and vented his fury into the blanket. Hot, bubbling seed gushed forth, spreading across the worn fabric in a thick, dark stain. The scent of spilled semen filled the room, wafting into the nostrils of Calvin. Along with the aroma of Braxton’s musky scent, the odor stirred the young sailor, his own seed ready to burst. 

“Braxton,” he groaned. “Oh, I think that I must--”

“Please, Calvin,” whispered Braxton. “Please release me.”

Calvin’s seed flooded into the rectum of Braxton. The hot spray struck the cat’s prostate, bringing the barmaid into a wailing cry as the pair would reach climax together. Calvin, never slowing, pumped another ropy string deep, the heat spreading in Braxton’s belly, his lower abdomen beginning to distend with the ripe fullness of Calvin’s sloshing semen. Again, the sailor spent himself into the young barmaid and Braxton did bury his hot face into the pillow. His heart fluttered in his chest, his sagging breasts now felt so bloated, the nipples erect, aching. A tingle came to his chest, the sense of wetness now spreading on the blanket. Baxton raised himself from the bed, thins streams of white trickling down his belly as terror and giddy elation vied within him. 

“So there was milk after all,” laughed Calvin. 

“I-I never, I… How?” Braxton stammered. 

The sailor took him into his arms, cupping a fat orb, milk running between his fingers as he lowered his lips to Barxon’s neck. His cock was growing softer, loosing less and less of his manly essence until at last, he pulled free. A thin trickle of seed spilled from Braxton’s wounded flower, matting the fur of his inner thigh as the grey cat toppled to the bed, dragging Calvin down on top of him. Milk made his steely fur sticky and wet, yet Calvin would pay no mind. 

Braxton averted his gaze from the young sailor, as if terrified to meet the blue eyes of Calvin. “Um, I have to confess,” he began. “This was my first time.”

Before the grey cat could utter another word, the sailor planted his lips to the mouth of the gasping Braxton, saying only after he had pulled away, “And it was truly incredible.”

It was then that a smile came to the face of Braxton. It was the first that Calvin had witnessed and the sailor could not  help but to be struck dumb by the beauty which lay there upon the face of his love. But as all sailors know, the sea was fickle and just as quickly, the dark clouds of a storm would roll across the slate grey waves, turning Braxton’s smile into a deep frown. The young barmaid placed his hands on Calvin’s chest and shoved the sailor back so that Calvin was forced to stand up from the narrow bed. 

“I suppose you got what you wanted,” muttered Braxton. He was sitting up now, his legs dangling over the side so that his feet rested upon the floor. He slid one arm around his milk bloated chest, ignoring the wetness which still soaked his fur. “Now you can go tell your friends about lying with the strange barmaid.” His ears drooped and he turned a brief glance to his leaking breasts. “The strange barmaid who leaks, of all things.”

Calvin’s heart sank into his ankles, for he wished then only to take Braxton into his arms. “I wouldn’t do that,” he said firmly. “I don’t think you’re so strange.”

For an instant, the clouds parted, the rays of that smile shining through, but then the storm rolled on, Braxton’s frown returning. 

“I suppose then, that you have a girl in every port, sailor? I know your kind. A different lay for every place you travel. Am I no different?”

“You are,” said Calvin. “I’ve only just begun the seacat’s life. I have no other ports.”

This brought Braxton’s ears swiveling. His heart did leap to hear such words from the handsome sailor, but dare he let the cat come closer. He gnawed his lower lip, not meeting the blue gaze of Calvin. 

“So then,” he began. “Y-You’re saying that I was your only one?” He stood, his arm slipping from his leaking tits. Milk spilled down his belly, Calvin’s seed trailing between his thighs, his ass sticky with cooling semen. He looked a mess, but Braxton did not care. “I’m your special sweetheart?” 

He had said it, he had to say it. He only prayed that the answer was going to be…

“Yes,” said Calvin. “You are, truly.”

The clouds were driven away by the blooming of the sun which became the smile on Braxton’s face. His slim arms were around Calvin’s neck, his lips meeting the mouth of his love. With a sudden surge of strength, the young barmaid dragged the sailor back, falling down onto the bed so that Calvin now lay upon the worn blankets, damp with sweat and the expelled seed of Braxton. Calvin looked up into the glittering emeralds of Braxton’s eyes, the young grey cat kneeling above him, his leaking tits hanging like overripe fruit from the vine. Braxton began to lower himself, a dripping nipple grazing Calvin’s chin. The sailor’s lips parted, his tongue circling the bumpy areola, lapping the dew which clung so richly to the erect nub. His lips spread across the hot flesh, suckling the warm, sweet elixir of Braxton’s essence, drinking deeply of the milk of his love. His clawed fingers grasped the grey cat’s biceps, bringing Braxton down so that Calvin could slurp the intoxicating brew with relish. His belly was growing warm, his head swimming. His cheeks were flushed as if with drink, for such was the milk of Braxton, that it was more potent than the finest brandy. 

At last, Calvin relinquished his hold, gasping for breath, his lips stained white as he allowed Braxton to sit up. Milk still flowing, the barmaid brought his mouth to the chest of the sailor. Thrilled by the hardness of those pectorals, he explored the creamy fur of the sailor’s broad chest, finding nestled there the small, pink bud. So much like his own, yet not. The tiny nub beckoned and Braxton found that he could not resist such a call. His lips wrapped around the delicate cherry that was Calvin’s nipple, his tongue swirling. A moan escaped from Calvin’s stained lips and Braxton felt the first stirrings of the sailor’s manhood. Such a lusty cat was to be brought again to arousal, the barmaid thought with glee. His fingers rustled through Calvin’s fur, wet and matted by the warm trickle of Braxton’s flowing milk, muscles dancing below his fingertips as he glided down the rippling stomach, tongue circling the well of the cat’s navel. His fingers plunged into the pungent tangle of pubic fur, white as fresh snow, kissed with flecks of orange. The pinkness of Calvin’s manhood did thrust up from that fragrant jungle, sticky and shiny with the remnants of their lust. The tip glistened, a bead of fresh dew beginning to form as the spongy head rose. Veins pulsed along the proud shaft, bringing the sailor’s arousal once more into throbbing erection. 

Calvin laid his head back, his claws digging into the bankets. His balls, tufted with a wisp of white fur, were still fat with the seed which had not been let free from their first tumble. Braxton took that shivering pillar, that rod of manly beauty, running his fingers down the length of the plump undershaft. Carefully, he traced a vein, feeling the primal strength which flowed through that rigid member. His own cock did stir, his heart beating more quickly, bringing the fires of wanton lust to burn hot within his belly. His fingers curled around Calvin’s rod, stroking, pumping, bringing the sailor into a whimpering boil of need. 

“O-Oh,” moaned Calvin as Braxton’s hand slid up his cock. 

With his thumb, Braxton worked the spongy tip, circling the bead of opalescent dew which formed atop the gaping urethra. His desire was to give the sailor pleasure. His mouth fell, lips pressing lightly to Calvin’s tip. He pulled back, his cheeks hot, for never had he imagined that he would be doing such a thing as taking another male’s penis into his mouth. But when he did turn his gaze on the face of Calvin, the white cream splashed with orange which covered his right eye like the yolk of an egg which broke open, he knew that he must. His tongue fell from his jaws, meeting the tangy flesh, sliding down the plump shaft. Calvin moaned softly, the muscles of his belly straining as the air was blasted from his lungs. Braxton rose, curling around the sweaty, semen covered member, tasting the bitterness of the young sailor’s seed, the tang of sweat, rising up to the spongy tip where he did lick the shimmering globule of precum from Calvin’s urethra. Braxton’s tongue pressed itself to the roof of his mouth, the grey cat closing his eyes, savoring the taste, letting his roll on his tongue like a fine wine before swallowing the bitter wad. He wanted more. 

Braxton’s mouth lowered, lips closing around the throbbing shaft, plummeting down to meet the tangle of Calvin’s pubic fur. Up, he rose, his lips closing hard, milking the groaning sailor who lay in his bed. 

“Ungh, I thought this was your first time?” Calvin moaned. 

With a pop of saliva, Braxton’s lips came free. “Well, the fruit merchants come from time to time.” His cheeks flushed scarlet. “You see, once they brought a load of bananas from the tropics and well, I was curious, alright.”

Calvin’s body trembled, his shoulders quaking. “No, you can’t be serious.”

“H-Hey now,” stammered Braxton. “I never asked where you learned to do, um, all that other stuff.”

Much chagrined, Braxton then pushed himself up, clambering over Calvin, his sleek legs straddling the sailor’s slim waist. His hands fell upon Calvin’s chest, fingers spreading through the fur made damp with sweat and the sweet dribblings of his own milk. His ripe buttocks sat back, nudging the throbbing spear which sat prepared to impale him. He looked at Calvin, seeing the glitter of sapphire in the gloom of the sputtering lantern. The silvery moonlight hung between them, motes of dust sparkling like the stars, setting Braxton’s fur to shimmer radiant. The heaviness of his milky breasts sagging from his chest, nipples nearly even with his navel. Calvin’s hand moved of their own accord, just brushing those heaving pears. Braxton shivered, leaning into Calvin’s waiting hands, filling the cat’s palms with jiggling flesh as he sat back. The throbbing spear did strike deep, piercing his anus, cleaving all the way to the trembling prostate. Slowly, he sat down, his cheeks coming to rest on the pubic bone of the young sailor. 

Slowly still, Braxton would rise, his anus closing tight around Calvin’s cock, stroking the sailor. 

“Ungh, Braxton,” whispered Calvin. He bucked his hips, seeking to plunge upward into the retreating cat. 

“Mmm, Calvin.” Braxton fell, meeting the rising sailor, slamming his prostate down onto the weeping tip. 
They slid down to the creaking mattress, the old wooden bed groaning in protest to their love. Gone was the mad, animal lust, replaced with a desire only to please the other. Braxton would retreat, leading Calvin, who followed, circling, lifting the moaning barmaid from the bed. Braxton’s heaving breasts still filled his hands, milk running between his fingers to dribble onto his belly as the grey cat came back down. Such was their dance, the constant swaying of their hips, a beat which rang in time to the swift squealing of the old bed. Up, down, circling, sliding back. Calvin’s hips bobbed, raising Braxton up, his back arching to bring the grey cat down so that his lips could meet the ebon mouth. Braxton’s tongue, slick with the seed of Calvin, slithered from between his lips, eager to be claimed. Calvin’s mouth closed around the cat’s tongue, slurping, tasting his own semen on the tongue of his love. His face grew warm, blooming with the knowledge that this wondrous ethereal beauty was his. His mark was left upon the flesh of Braxton, carved with his name forevermore. 

Calvin’s arms were around Braxton’s neck, bringing the grey cat down so that those heaving breasts now rested on his chest. His questing hands slid down the slope of Braxton’s back, cupping the firm buttocks which spread so widely to accommodate his throbbing member. Gently, his fingers did sink into the yielding flesh, guiding Braxton down, lifting him up, moving the grey cat to a steady, intoxicating pace. His balls churned, ready to release and when that hot, frothing seed did come once more, the pleasing warmth filled Braxton’s lower belly, soothing the dull aches which had come to reside in those exhausted hips. Braxton sighed, letting his weary head fall on Calvin’s shoulder, his belly growing tighter, expanding softly with the sailor’s pumping seed. 

Not bothering to pull himself out, Calvin held the limp form of Braxton in his arms, the pair lying upon the narrow bed, not wishing to so much as breathe, lest they spoil the moment. 

“Mmm, that was wonderful,” said Braxton, his voice thick. 

“I know,” said Calvin. “I… I hope to do this again.”

“I don’t know if I can go a third time,” replied Braxton and the pair both had a laugh at this. 

From the fog strewn night, there came the mournful whistle of a ship and the bells which sounded from the watchtower. Calvin sat up. Untangling from Braxton’s arms, the sailor leapt from the bed, leaving Braxton to hug the blankets to his bare chest. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked of Calvin. 

Reaching for his breeches, the sailor replied, “The four bells. The ship will be setting out soon. I have to get back.”

Watching the sailor slip his shirt over his well formed torso, Braxton said, “So soon? When will you be back?”

“A month,” said Calvin, slipping into his vest. “Will you wait for me?”

A smile curled the lips of Braxton. “I suppose I can wait, just don’t be too long, sailor.”
Calvin crossed to the door, pausing only to turn one last look at Braxton before disappearing into the shadows of the hall. Alone, Braxton let the blanket tumble from his blossoming chest. The bloated mammaries which for so long had been an embarrassment, now were lustrous pearls upon his slender chest. He cupped a delicate pear, fingers circling the erect nipple, the sensation making him shiver with delight. 

“Maybe I should do something with these,” he found himself giggling. “But only for Calvin, of course.”

He flung back the blanket and stood up from the bed. Raising his arms above his head, he gazed on the silvery beauty of his own body, seeing himself anew. A month until the young sailor would return, he thought to himself. 

“A month is not so long,” Braxton said aloud. 

The barmaid’s lips spread into a broad smile. It was plenty of time to get himself ready for the young sailor. Until then, however, he decided that it was high time he showed the haughty Matilda what a real barmaid could do.