Her breath was bordering on ragged. She was turning on. I hooked my thumbs under the band of my underwear and teased her a little. She held her breath...and broke her gaze to look me in the eyes. There was an animalistic hunger swimming in her stare. It lingered on mine for an instant then dropped back to my bulge. I slid the material lower. She could see my flat stomach and the hair that descended into the shorts. Then the swollen root of my cock was exposed, trapped between the material and my. In fact, I suddenly realized, I had not worn the sheet because I was shy or attempting to protect my innocence--I had worn it because I had been afraid to be myself! The real me had thrilled at the idea of walking naked from my cabin to the galley with dozens of men watching my every move, lusting after my body. So it was failure of being true to myself that I was being punished for, not disobedience. The captain was remarkably perceptive. He was also very strong. I felt the paddle lift and I. More

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