Page 33 - Titanic: Forbidden Stories Hollywood Forgot

Titanic! 19

was the kind of rugged brute handsome that makes dicks
rise. His tousled hair and short beard were black as the
coal-grime covering him from head to foot. Even so, his
nipples jutted prominent from his pecto rals, nipples al-
most pink in the red lights of the hold, as if he had licked
his dirty fingers and tweaked them clean. His hands, like
his hairy forearms, were mas sive from heavy labor.
I could only guess, as could Edward, what all this
upper-body promise meant below his carved waist,
cinched tight with a rope holding up his coal-heaver’s
blackened leather pants. His big feet, spread wide in
black boots, formed a triangle up to his crotch where
the leather barely con cealed the thickness of his long
driving ram. He was an animal, born so, the kind of man
rich men hire to power their empires, their factories,
their ships.
He was, I sensed, the man who made Titanic go.
He waited as if he knew Ed ward was advancing to-
ward him and him alone. He groped his huge crotch. He
groaned deep from his big balls. His lips parted the dark
thatch of his short, rugged beard. His white teeth shone,
not in smile, but in heat. Men kept their distance. He
towered well over 6-3 and weighed in at a hard-packed
good 265. He was a Goliath, perfect for Titanic. Perfect
for Ed ward. Actually, perfect for me. For the first time, I
felt a fleet ing, just fleeting, twinge of jeal ousy. It wasn’t
I didn’t want Ed ward to have him. It was more I wanted
him too, but that, as it turned out, was never to be.
Edward walked straight up within three paces of the
Stoker. Each surveyed the other. Edward’s hard, lean-
muscled body looked good to me in the dim red light.
He pulled off his shirt, exposing his sculler’s chest and

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