“Or you can come up to my suite. And you take a shower. And maybe you ride my bike. Maybe you don’t. It’s up to you,” he added, his other hand coming up flat above the table, indicating a second possible choice.
He stood up suddenly. My eyes traced the movement of his powerful frame to standing position.
“I’ll get our bills. Consider lunch my treat. The suite room is on the top deck. I hope to see you again soon Kay,” he said, swiping up both our dinner tickets, and then sauntered away towards the register.
I watched as his nice tight ass in his even tighter riding jeans sauntered away from the table and to the register. I continued to sit at the table flabbergasted at what had just happened. I had some thinking to do. And I decided to do it with my almost empty water glass in front of me. It was my only conversation partner anyway.
A hot older guy wanted to have sex with me. I had a girlfriend, but I wasn’t exactly wild about her. If I did end up cheating on her, this wouldn’t even be the first time. I didn’t know what that avuncular good looking man would do to me if I went to his room, but I knew that it would probably entail quite a bit more than just showering.
Did I want to go to his room? Kinda. Would I like it if I were naked with him? Probably. He was hot. Would I like it if he blew me? Most definitely. Who doesn’t like a blowjob? Would I like it if I blew him? I dunno. Maybe. He was definitely attractive. I’d never sucked a dick before though. But would that be the extent of it? What if he wanted me to suck him off? What if he wanted to fuck me? Would I let him? I’d had a kinky girlfriend who liked to finger my ass and I loved it when she did it to me. But he was a big muscular man. I didn’t think I could stop him from doing something to me if he really wanted to do something horrible/wonderful to me.
After ten minutes of silent rumination in the ship’s cafeteria, I was getting hard thinking about the possible permutations of the evening, which were extensive. The more I thought about going to his room, the sexier I thought it could be. I got up and slowly walked to the staircase that led to the upper decks where the suite room was located.
But I was still hesitant, still looking for a sign from the cosmos as to whether I should give it up to this guy.
I quickly found it. (Thank you Cosmos!)
The stairwell literally had “stairwell to heaven” written on its side in English. Of course I logically understood that it was just an advertisement for the upgraded rooms at the top of the ship. The rooms on the top deck of the ship were private and usually ten times as expensive as the multiperson rooms in the lower decks. But I wasn’t thinking very logically. I thought the universe was goading me upward and onward to new things.
He was handsome. If I was going to give up my gay virginity to a guy, it’d be awesome if it was someone who looked like him. From the sound of it, it seemed like he’d taken young guys like me to bed before. Maybe he knew what he was doing. That was definitely a plus because I wouldn’t know what I was doing. It definitely seemed like he knew what he wanted, and that made it hotter for me.
I started to step up the stairs.
He was twice as old as me. But I started to like the idea of doing it with an older guy. If anything, the age difference was a plus. His name was “Sire” for Christ’s sake! It’s like his parents decided to give him a porn name from the get go!
I took more steps slowly up the stairs, and several people passed by me.
It’s good to experiment. Maybe I really like guys?
I took several more steps up.
If it was good, then I knew something new about myself. If it was a bad experience, well, then it was just a one time thing on an aging boat.
I took several more steps upward.
I wanted to sleep with this guy. I wanted to have sex with this guy. I wanted to fuck this guy. I was getting hard.
I got to the top of the stairwell to heaven and now the hallway to heaven stretched before me. There were only a few cabin doors on this level, each an entrance to one of the larger passenger cabins. At the end of the hall was the suite, the largest and most expensive passenger cabin on the ship.
I stood before the door to the suite room. I held up my wrist to knock on the door, but I hesitated my hand an inch away from the door.
I stood there stupidly, frozen in pose. Should I do this? Knocking on his door and not doing it with him was being a tease.
The door seemingly opened of its own accord.
He was standing on the other side of the door, slightly occluded behind it.
“Kay, you’re here,” Sire said, smiling widely.
“Yeah, I’m…here,” I prattled, my arms coming down to my sides suddenly, as if I had just been called to the principal’s office for a dressing down.
“I’m really glad you came,” Sire said, smiling widely.
“You were just waiting behind the door, looking through the hole?” I asked.
He giggled once.
“In my experience, straight guys come quickly or they don’t come at all,” Sire stated, smiling widely.
“Oh,” I responded lamely. I wondered about the double entendre but it quickly passed.
He smiled at me. I smiled back at him.
“Can I take that shower?” I replied, my hands suddenly dancing to my sides nervously.
“Of course. Shoes off please,” Sire replied, and then motioned me inside his suite with a wave of his hand.
I stepped inside, past him, into the suite room.
I unbuckled my riding boots and socks right by the entrance and placed them in a shoe cubicle next to the door, as was the custom in Japan. Sire was already barefoot, and I saw his larger boots already inside the shoe cubicle.
The suite room really did deserve its name: the large king sized bed was covered in large fluffy comforters; the carpet was a shaggy soft matrix that made walking somewhat bouncy; the kitchenette near the large porthole window in the wall was filled with machines that automated whatever beverage one could think of; the living room in the middle contained a large mahogany dinner table and two chairs.
report And there was a swanky glass-walled shower. Whoever designed the suite room decided to not have a private shower separate from the rest of the cabin. It was directly in front of the king sized bed. Someone could lay on their back on the bed while the person in the shower put on a show. It really seemed closer to a Japanese love hotel set up than a penthouse.
“You didn’t tell me that the shower walls were transparent,” I said, my eyes fixated on the clear glass between the room and the shower.
“I think I intimated all the important details,” Sire said, again smiling widely and mischievously.
“I don’t know about this,” I whispered.
“Do you want me to leave while you shower?” he asked.
Silence permeated the room. I froze.
I thought about it. I thought about it. I thought about it some more. He was making me make a choice. I thought about it some more.
“No. You can stay. It’s your room after all,” I replied.
He wanted to watch me take a shower.
…
…
…
I was going to let him.
I turned around, facing the shower, my back to Sire, who was standing near the bed. I couldn’t see him as I pulled my shirt up and off over my head and dropped it on the carpet. This revealed the back of my lithe skinny upper body to Sire, who vocalized his assessment with alacrity.