An Officer But No Gentleman by M. Donice Byrd

Michel Dupre began choking on his ale, making Morty slap him on the back. “We all know Captain Sinclair suckled Charlie.” “He hasn’t been that close to a teat since he was suckling on his mama’s.” “Have ye ever seen a lad turn that shade of red before,” Hugh asked taking pleasure in rolling the R’s, emphasizing his Scottish brogue. The rowdy men took delight in Charlie’s discomfiture. “That’s all right,” he bellowed, drunkenly. A wide grin creased his fellow American’s rugged face as his amber eyes lit up under a shock of unruly flaxen hair. Sitting directly across from Charlie, Morty Ness slammed his tankard down on the table. “Never had me a cap’n before,” she mewed cattishly, slipping her arm around Charlie’s shoulder, bringing her breasts startlingly close to his face. Her smile was definitely lusty though he suspected she cast that same smile on every tar who had extra coin in his pocket which might come her way. The woman fingered the high collar of Charlie’s black broadcloth coat and the white cambric stock around his neck.

Perhaps this would not be so difficult after all. The others at the table let out a roaring laugh of approval. She gave a yelp more of surprise than pain and slapped playfully at his hand. The time had come for Charlie to prove his manhood, so he slid his hand over the wench’s round hip and gave her a pinch on her upper thigh. As the recently promoted second mate, he was not likely to get their respect when they thought of him as nothing more than a fledgling boy.

By their standards, to be nineteen years old and green was unacceptable. What else could he do? Had his father or he known ahead of time the crew had decided he was long overdue for his first woman, he would not have gone ashore with the rowdy sailors. Following his companions’ lead, Charlie pulled a passing wench into his lap.

An Officer But No Gentleman by M. Donice Byrd