Page 46 - Titanic: Forbidden Stories Hollywood Forgot

32 Jack Fritscher

belly and chest and throat and face.
Handless, untouched, Edward’s cock came, shooting
up on the triumphant muscleman of a Stoker, hitting
his hairy pecto rals, creaming his belly, his rockhard, still
sperming dick.
I came.
The crowd of men came.
The Stoker picked Edward up in his arms, carrying
him, one forearm under Edward’s knees, the other under
his shoulders. His big cock, relentless, protruded hard
from beneath Edward’s forward buttock. Edward’s own
cock stood erect.
“I fock you,” the Stoker said. “Now you lay the night
with me.”
Edward, my Edward, looked up at the Stoker, grinned,
threw his arm around the giant’s shoulder, and laid his
cheek on the Stoker’s grimy, hairy chest.
And off the Stoker carried him.
Perhaps Edward should have listened to Madame
Ouspenskaya’s card reading, foretelling danger, because
events larger than our most fearful dreams loomed ahead,
as Titanic, built for 24-28 knots, sped, at her captain’s
vani ty, through the icy dark of the North Atlantic at a
world-record 30 knots per hour.

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