Page 48 - Titanic: The Untold Tale of Gay Passengers and Crew

34 Jack Fritscher

New York, I met Felix Jones, our red- headed purser who had
provided so much frolic our first night at sea. His 8-inches
were basketed dis creetly in his tailored uniform. He grinned,
without a word, and whisked me away for a surprise he had
promised. In the wake of our leaving, Bride and Phillips must
have exchanged the knowing glanc es of the straight-arrow. I
heard their laughter and was not amused.
“Some men,” I said to Felix, “just don’t get it.”
Bride and Phillips turned back to their messages.

“To Titanic and eastbound ships:
Ice report in latitude 42 N, to 41.25 N,
longitude 49 W, to 50.30 W.
Saw much heavy pack ice and great number
large bergs. Also field ice.
Weather good, clear.”

Waiting for me in a well-appointed, but unoccupied
second-class suite apparently reserved for discreet rendezvous,
were the ship’s second carpenter, Michael Brice, and Third
Officer, Samuel Maxwell, both stripped naked, sitting in
opposite Morris chairs, milking separate hard ons, await ing
a Sunday service of their own.
“Gentlemen,” Felix said, “may I present Mr. Michael
Whit ney.”
Brice stood, cock jutting. Maxwell remained seated, cock
rampant between his spread thighs. Felix, ever the gentleman’s
gen tleman, discreetly withdrew. Not one word was spoken.
Brice locked the door. I stripped. Resonant as a deep bass
drum, Titanic’s en gines hummed beneath the light slip-slap
of Max’s hand spit-strok ing his big 9-inch cock. He was a
solid, good-looking 38, better built than most officers. His