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No. 81719
Haddock masturbating while drinking, enjoy this shit!! Also there's prolly typo's all over this, i don't have a beta person :'(...
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"What do you mean there's no whiskey left you blundering byproducts!" Alan backed off as the rest of the crew literally watched his back as Haddock boisteriously let him have it for forgetting to bring another case of the Captain's favourite drink. "But captain we're only less than a day from Edinburgh port, can't you wait till then?" Alan tried to sound like him and his mates hadn't drank half of the alcohol repository, namely the last half, the night before and that he wasn't fighting one hell of a headache and, most importantly, he didn't want to keelhaul his captain by the beard. He watched Haddock pace back and forth with the sound of each step resonating painfully in his brain as he stood to attention while trying not to yawn or rub his itchy eyes when the afformented beard turned back to him, flustering and spitting out words at him that he stopped caring about and let his alcohol wrecked mind wander away to better times, to times where things like guns in his hand existed and bloodstained blue poloshirts. He watched the frustraded man leave and finally vomiting up what he had been fighting with for the last twenty minutes and ordered a cabin boy to clean it up with the meanest tone he could muster.
It was night, very dark, but Haddock knew his ship by heart so he only really stumbled because of all the rope and boxes that was spread out through the deck. He yelled about it but without any real anger, he was really bogged down by hi dry throat. He grumbled while getting up from the floor, at least he had landed infront of his own door. He opened as the ship tilted and was propelled forward by it as it rolled the other way. He let the motion take him to his bunk which he landed in heavily with a sigh. As he was halfway in the bed, face down, he practically lamented his situation, nay, mourning it. Haddock turned around with much labour and grumbling untill he laid on his back, staring up at the roof, his sight moving throughout his room, familiar and murky with a mess that could only be onlooked by a man who is used to nothing ever being on it's right place due to the rocking of the ship. The ship did indeed rock back and forth like a babies crib and he felt himself being slowly lulled to sleep. Not until was almost falling asleep did he noticed the little familiar clink somwhere in his room and his eyes snapped open, his chest filled with hope but his body tired and he just moved his head towards the sound to not disturb his comfortable place in the bunk bed and oh my, oh my billions of bilious blue blistering barnacles if it wasn't a very familiar clink indeed. He licked his lips at the very sight of the alluring shape of his most loved possession, save for the Karaboudjan of course. He rose up slightly, leaning on his elbows, eyeing the bottle with heavy lids as it opened the cabinet door with the weight of it's contents. A smile crept up on his lips, a bit chapped from the salty air but wettened now that he was practically drooling, and he swung one leg over the bedside, the rest of him following shortly.
He got down on his knees to pick the bottle up, feeling the boat heavy movements as the wind picked up, and gingerly spun it around in his hand until the beautiful label was visible, Loch lomonde, his favourite. With a hand on the cabinet where he had unwittingly stowed his liberation from this dreary reality, something he's rather not think about. Well now that he had his whiskey in his hands he felt at ease and sauntered back to his bed and sat down on the crumpled sheets and held the bottle up like a newborn child which he then cradled to his cheek as he laid down. He slowly ran his calloused fingers down the smooth class, listening to the sound of his beard touching it and pressing his lips to the label, bless you Loch Lomonde. Haddock, suprising forethought even to himself, put the bottle upright before pulling the cork off. After the satisfying pop of accessible whiskey he brought the bottle swiftly to his lips to not spill a drop. He never had gotten used to the initial burn down his throat, nor did he want to, and laid there gulping down the golden liquid, empty hand slowly traling down his stomach. He pulled his head up as he moved the bottle away so he could breathe and he did, heavily, he flopped down and licked his moist lips yet again, picking up stray droplets in his moustache.
He undid his belt.
The warmth spread through his throat down his chest and finally settling in his stomach, a different wamth spread up to his stomach. Both feelings were entirely pleasant, though, one of them could be enhanced which Haddock was working on by pulling down his zipper, pressing down where the zipper ended. He exhaled and closed his eyes while palming his waking erection through the boxers. He turned towards the bottle and toppled it over into his mouth, taking another swig, and squeezing with his other hand. Groaning while swallowing he impatiently pulled down the hem of his boxers, grabbing his now full erect cock, slowly wrapping his fingers around the base and began stroking. Haddock took another swig. He swirled the whiskey around his tounge before swallowing it and letting his tastebuds experience all of the different tastes. It was sweet, smokey and with a hint of wine, he noted, and sped up his stroking while the mellow aftertaste melted down his throat. Smacking his lips to make way for airy moans and grunts that could scandalize even the most hardened seaman, though the sentiment eluded Haddock at the moment who swirled his thumb over the head of his cock, coating the finger with precum. He screwed his eyes shut while going faster, pressing with his fingers when he stroked upwards, seeing white spots on his eyelids he felt himself getting closer, He took another swig, the amount of whiskey reaching the bottom. Jutting his hips up and pressing his head down in the one pillow with the whole ship rocking to one side almost as if moved by the captain himself Haddock finished over his knuckles while swallowing his very last spirits, licking the residue as far his tounge could go down the bottleneck and around it as he dragged the last from his softening erection.
Haddock relaxed into the warm bed after cleaning up his mess with some stray cloth, bottle thrown amongst quite a few other empty bottles in a corner. He gave in to a content sigh while planning to sleep through the rest of the hours until the Karaboudjan reached Edinburgh. He dragged a sheet over himself and settled down, soon snoring loudly.
Alan was gripping a bottle in his left hand, knuckles going white, as the spectacle in the captains lodge had been fully audible for a person who had found a bottle to give to ones captain, A person who might have stopped himself from knocking on the captains door after hearing some sounds he wouldn't want to interrup. A certain person who donned a halfgrin, red ears, nausea suddenly gone and a pressing situation between his legs. Well, looks like Alan got to keep this bottle to himself then.
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