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Nils was first to spot the harbor lights. In the warm night, they shimmered over the calm seas. "Land ho! City lights!" he called from high in the rigging. He was a nimble young man with sharp eyes, standing lookout as he often did.

He quivered with excitement. Late to reach his full growth, the ladies hadn't taken him seriously. But with a sailor's tan and wiry muscles from the voyage, he hoped this port call would be different. The more experienced sailors boasted of the pleasures of Port Ruby, and maybe some of them could help show him the ropes.

On the deck below, Selim grinned as he stood at the ship's wheel. The steersman worked bare-chested in the warm night. For hours, he had been catching the scents of flowers and spices in his hawk-like nose. Port Ruby was his home, so there would be no cheap sailor's carousing for him. He was going straight into the arms of the women who loved him and waited for him. Perhaps the time had come to give up voyaging and work as a harbor pilot.

At the leeward rail, Thor pulled down his sailcloth breeches and let his prick loose. It dangled long and white in the moonlight. He chuckled. "Wake up, real work for you soon!" he said. He pointed it over the side and pissed a stream into the sea. He was looking forward to harpooning a few pretty ones this port call. Maybe a little drinking, a little roughhousing, a new tattoo. He rubbed his whiskery cheek with his scarred knuckles. Probably best to start with a bath-and-barber trip. He shook the drips off, gave his shaft a familiar squeeze, and dropped it back into his breeches.

In her cabin, Captain Emily Flint straddled a narrow bench, rocking her hips on the antique ivory phallus that had been her only consolation on this voyage. In her mouth was a wad of soft leather to muffle any sounds. Naked in the warm night, lit from behind from the moonlight, she worked the tool into her centre, but it wasn't the same. The old sea-cook who had been her faithful cocksman had retired from the sea, leaving her bereft of his wise counsel and his ready prick.

She heard the call from the lookout repeated on deck and smiled. She had some business to conduct at Port Ruby, and who said it couldn't be mixed with a little pleasure? Her hips moved faster up and down. A warm glow passed over her skin, and at the right moment, she pressed down with all her weight. Her body arched with a spasm of pleasure, and she bit down on the leather. Her moans filtered out as whispers.

At length she rose, stowed the ivory manhood, and dressed. She stepped out on deck to supervise the change of watch, then set orders for the night and settled down to rest up for tomorrow's port call.

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