by GA Hauser
Imagining finding some stud in a white sailor suit, sucking his dick in a dark hallway, Brodie got an erection. Opening his zipper, taking out his cock, he closed his eyes and fantasized the events leading up to a sexual encounter. A smile, a wink, flirting, a quick signal to rendezvous. A touch of a crotch, tight pants shoved down muscular legs, a cock in his mouth, sperm on his tongue…
Brodie tensed up, shooting come onto his stomach, slowing down his hand as he caught his breath. “Who am I kidding?” he laughed sadly. “I never think of women when I do it to myself. What the hell am I so afraid of?” But he was. The labeling, the exile from his family, the reaction at his job. He’d built up such a macho image of himself for the world to see, he knew no one would believe it. He wasn’t sure he did himself. Oh, no. He knew. Deep inside, he knew exactly what he wanted and what turned him on. Now he had the opportunity for an onboard fling with no strings attached. Was he going to spend the week jerking off? Or…
~
His first test of nerves at flying solo came that evening after they left the port in Vancouver and began their sea excursion. A piece of paper was stuffed under his cabin door. He and his partner were invited to sit at the captain’s table for dinner. Staring at the note in confusion, he had no idea why he had been selected. Since he was curious and nervous at the same time, Brodie called the hotel desk. “Yes, uh, I just got an invitation for dinner at the captain’s table.”
“Oh, very good, sir.”
“Uh, any reason why?”
“It’s done at random. There’s no meaning to the selection. It’s just a chance for a few of the passengers to get to sit and chat with the captain and his crew.”
“Oh.”
“Is it all right, sir? Would you rather not?”
“No, it’s fine. I just wondered…uh, I’m alone. My,” he swallowed down the bitterness, “my partner didn’t come on board.”
“Don’t worry. You are welcome to join the captain on your own.”
“Sure, whatever.” Brodie thanked the man, hanging up, looking at the invitation. “Now I feel like I’m on the damn Love Boat about to meet Captain Stubing.”
Showering, shaving, Brodie dressed in a dark suit and knotted his tie under his jaw in the bathroom mirror. Waves of rage kept washing over him at the idea of facing a room full of strangers without a girlfriend on his arm. He was humiliated. People didn’t take cruises on their own unless it was a singles’ cruise. And this ship hardly met that criteria, it was couples as far as the eye could see.
Craving more hard liquor to stop the fluttering of fear in his mid-section, Brodie chided himself on his cowardliness and snarled at the mirror, “Just because you’re on your own doesn’t mean you’re any less of a man, Brodie Duncan. So, shape up or ship out!” Musing over the pun, he added, “Literally!”
Grabbing the room key, for that was all he required since buying alcohol was just a signature on a paper, he locked his room up, walking down the enormous hallway behind a gray-haired couple holding hands, dressed in a tuxedo and sparkling sequined gown. Looking down at his business suit, he hadn’t imagined he’d need a damn tuxedo. Since the couple seemed to know where they were going, Brodie followed behind them silently. The elevator took them to the promenade deck. A huge number of people were there, milling around, drinks in their hands. Squeezing behind the mob, Brodie searched for the location of that open bar. Over the heads of the passengers he had a look inside the main dining area. It was lit by chandeliers and sparkling with gold and silver like a five star hotel. The size of the room intimidated him on sight. Huge round tables allowing ten people to sit together were arranged in rows leading all the way to the stern.
“Jesus,” he muttered in terror.
Ordering a shooter of tequila, Brodie bolted it down, leaving the glass on the bar. Escaping the thick mob, he returned to the hall, leaning back against a window that overlooked a dark never-ending sea.
A man caught his attention. Brodie assessed him for fuckability. Tall, dark, thick hair, chiseled jaw, high cheekbones, he had light eyes but Brodie couldn’t tell the color from where he stood. Broad shoulders, muscular, tight ass. “Oh yes. Perfect.” Strangely enough, the expression on the handsome man appeared pinched. As Brodie stared, unobserved, he soon guessed the reason why. A sharp-faced, icy brunette seemed to be henpecking that handsome man, her expression contorted in anger.
“Oh, you poor schmuck. I know what you’re going through.” Brodie could almost imagine the argument. Everyone is in a tuxedo! I told you to rent a tux! Why didn’t you listen to me! Blah, blah, blah. Poor bastard.
When the man’s gaze caught Brodie’s, Brodie felt his insides ignite and his cock twitch. The man’s glance moved away just as quickly and Brodie took a moment to catch his breath. “Holy shit.” He hadn’t expected his body to react quite like that.
Finally the crowd moved as a group inside the bejeweled dining room. Feeling completely self-conscious, Brodie took the folded invitation out of his jacket pocket and showed it to a uniformed waiter. “Can you point me in the right direction?”
Nodding his head graciously, the waiter brought Brodie to the head table where a small card rested in front of his place setting with his name on it. “Thanks.” Brodie sat down, noticed a card next to him that read Melanie Hughley, and frowned in annoyance.
Instantly his private waiter approached him. “Would you like me to pour some wine, sir?”
“Yes. Please.”
“Red or white?”
“Red.” Brodie shifted in his chair nervously. Keep going, more, more…
The man filled his glass and moved to do the same to the next couple that had sat down. Brodie gulped the strong, dry wine, dying to get this dinner over with and get drunk.
Hearing an angry, high-pitched woman’s voice, Brodie tilted to his right. Sitting at a nearby table was that gorgeous man and his badgering wife or girlfriend. “She’s still at it?” He shook his head sadly. “Give it a rest!”
“Sorry?” the elderly gentleman sitting next to Melanie’s empty seat asked.
“Nothing. Talking to myself.” Brodie tried to smile.
“It’s exciting, sitting with the captain.”
“Huh? Yeah. Exciting.” Brodie wished he shared the old man’s enthusiasm. The room was packed with sequined gowns, black tuxedos and sports jackets, jeweled throats and earrings, it was as if dinner was some grand ball. Brodie didn’t expect such extravagance. Ironically, he thought Melanie would have eaten it up.
That man caught his eye.
Brodie froze, the wine glass hovering in his hand, empty and needing refilling. The gaze lasted seconds, but to Brodie it felt long and filled with some strange expectation. The old man next to him was talking but Brodie didn’t hear anything but some unintelligible syllables. The ice queen nudged the handsome man to get back his attention. When the connection broke, Brodie had to catch his breath. His cock was hard as a rock under his dress slacks and throbbing. “Jesus Christ, what the hell was that all about?”
“Sorry?”
Brodie shook his head. “Nothing.” The old man must be hard of hearing. A waiter tilted the bottle over Brodie’s glass. Impressed with the service, he sat back, watching the red elixir fill the bell of the stemware. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
An older, distinguished gentleman in a white uniform approached his table. Two other men in white were behind him. Brodie figured it was the captain and two crew members. What was he supposed to do? Stand? Clap?
Seeing the old man rise up politely, Brodie hoped his erection had gone down enough not to be noticed. In paranoia, he only stood halfway, waiting for them to sit down, quickly covering his lap with his napkin, just in case. Safely concealed under the table, Brodie introduced himself as the captain and crew did the same.
“Are we still waiting for someone?” The captain gestured to the empty chair next to Brodie.
His face blushing in humiliation, Brodie replied, “No. Uh, my g
irlfriend got sick last minute. She insisted I shouldn’t miss out.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that. Well, we hope she’s better soon. We have a doctor on board if she needs one.”
Brodie just smiled, finishing his second glass of wine.
When the food began to appear on the table, Brodie was floored at the quality of the meals and the number of courses. Gobbling the delicacies down, he didn’t realizing how hungry he was. Buzzed on the wine and the tequila shot, he allowed the conversation to become a hum in his ear, not really listening until he was addressed directly. When dessert arrived, Brodie was already stuffed. He sat back and stared at the chocolate, cannonball-shaped ice cream as if it were torture. “Damn, you know how many hours of running I have to do to burn something like that off?”
The captain dabbed his lip, offering, “There’s a running track on the sports deck.”
“Is there?”
“Yes. Just go all the way to the top. One floor down from the sky deck.”
“Oh. Great.” Brodie stared at the chocolate orb. “One taste.”
“We could wrap it up and you can give it to your sick friend.”
“Uh, no. That’s all right. She’s allergic to chocolate.” Brodie wondered why he was lying. Was it that horrible to admit you were ditched? Yes!
Savoring the chocolate that melted on his tongue, Brodie blinked his eyes wide as that man, that handsome man, and his shrew stood up from their table. Sitting upright in his seat as they made their way past him, Brodie swept his eyes from the man’s spectacular face down his broad chest to his crotch. The chills that coursed over his skin made him shiver. Trying not to linger on the man’s bulging zipper, Brodie immediately connected with the man’s eyes as he drew nearer. The charge of excitement at the contact of those light irises nearly knocked him off his chair. Unable to prevent it, Brodie’s lips curled at the corners into a wicked smile. It was instantly reflected back. When the man moved away, Brodie caught a scent of the man’s cologne in the gentle gust of air that brushed his face. Once again he was dealing with a hard-on that pushed against the fabric of his wool pants. “Holy shit.”
The captain leaned near. “Everything all right?”
“Yes. Fine.” Brodie reached for his glass of water, sucking it down. Once he had softened enough to not embarrass himself completely, he stood, shook hands with the captain and crew, and left the dining room.
His heart was still beating hard in his chest, but at least his cock had calmed down. Brodie read so much into that gaze, he envisioned midnight rendezvous and afternoon delights. Slowly relaxing his pulse, Brodie made a reality check. The man was with a female. Hello? Forget the connection. It was just a look. Nothing more.
Chapter Three
Waking early the next morning, Brodie dressed in his gym shorts and t-shirt. Tying his laces as he sat on his unmade bed, he made sure he was ready, stuffing the keycard into the front of his briefs for lack of a pocket. Walking down the long corridor, he used the elevator and hit the button for the sports deck.
Feeling the wind the instant the doors opened, Brodie shivered, pushing against it as he began jogging laps around the boat. Several other hardcore fitness fans were doing the same, as were some seniors in sweat outfits, walking briskly. After an easy pace for his first lap, he increased his speed, which warmed him up and helped him feel as if he were actually burning calories. Catching up to a few runners quickly, he noticed another male in tight, red shorts, running at an impressive pace. Always competitive, Brodie imagined passing him by, keeping his smirk to himself. As he approached he admired the fit man’s muscular arms and shoulders revealed in his skimpy outfit. Moving to his side, about to overtake him, Brodie glanced sideways at the man’s profile, choking in surprise at seeing the handsome man he had admired at dinner.
The moment Brodie came into the man’s peripheral view, he turned to look. “Hey.”
“Hey!” Brodie answered enthusiastically, running side by side instead of passing like he had planned.
“Trying to keep up the workout, you know.” The man panted between his words.
“Exactly. Christ, the food is rich, isn’t it?” Brodie gazed down at the man’s long legs and elongated stride.
“Too rich. It’s killing me.”
“Uh, I’m Brodie, Brodie Duncan.”
“Julian Richards. Nice to meet you, Brodie.”
“Yeah, you too.” Brodie kept pace with Julian easily but wondered if Julian would rather run alone. “Am I bugging you?”
“No, not at all. It’s nice to have a running partner.”
“Yes. It is.” Brodie smiled to himself, thinking Christ, what a fucking bod! If he didn’t stop that train of thought, he’d be running with a hard on. “How many laps have you already done?”
“Just started. I assume it’s a quarter mile lap.”
“I have no idea.” Brodie felt the first blast of his own heat as he began warming up. He wasn’t feeling cold any longer.
“What do you do normally? I do about three miles.”
“Sounds good. We are on vacation, after all.”
Julian let out a sarcastic snort at the comment which intrigued Brodie.
“Not going well?” Brodie asked.
“Never mind. You don’t want to hear it.”
Oh, you are so wrong! Brodie tried not to smile. “It’s okay. If you want to talk about something, I’m here.”
Another lap passed and they said nothing. As if Julian had enough time to consider the option, he sighed, “Damn girlfriend is driving me nuts.”
“Oh?” Brodie wiped at the drops of sweat running down his temple.
“What a fucking bitch. I can’t do anything right.”
“Ah. Know the kind.” Brodie smiled.
“Never mind. You don’t want to hear it.”
No! I do! Brodie lost count of their laps imagining licking the sweat off of Julian’s square jaw. “You been dating her long?”
“No. Only a few months. I met her at work and now I’m sunk. If we have a bad break up, I have to look at her nasty face every day.”
“Work, that’s a no-no.” Brodie inhaled the ocean air deeply as he began laboring with the fast pace.
“I know. Broke my own damn rules.”
“What do you do?”
“Investment banking. You know, stock portfolios. She’s a teller.”
“Where? I mean, where do you live?”
“Seattle. You?”
“Bellevue.” Brodie’s insides were jumping. They lived twenty minutes away from each other.
“Really? Microsoft man?”
“Geez, how did you guess?”
“Doesn’t everyone who lives in Bellevue work there?” he laughed.
“Yes, probably.”
After twenty minutes of running at almost a sprint pace. Julian stopped, looking down at his watch.
Tripping to halt his stride, Brodie leaned over his legs to catch his breath, his hands on his knees. “Three miles?”
“Should be.” Julian gasped for air, standing up taller and inhaling deeply.
Slowly recovering from the exertion, Brodie snuck a peek at Julian’s crotch. His t-shirt was drenched and sticking to his chest. Running his tongue over his salty lips, Brodie wanted to taste the sweat of Julian’s body so badly he had an image flash of rushing the man and licking him on the neck.
“So?” Julian wiped at his face with the tail of his shirt, showing off perfectly cut abs. “You here with your wife or something?”
“Wife?” Brodie cringed involuntarily. “I’m not married.”
“I noticed an empty seat next to you at the captain’s table. Are you here alone?”
Humiliation quickly replaced the lust he was feeling as he ogled those well cut external oblique muscles. Oh fuck it. “Yes. I’m here alone.”
Julian took some time before he said anything as if studying Brodie’s expression. “Why am I getting the feeling that wasn’t the game plan?”
“I’m startin
g to freeze out here.” Brodie gestured to the door. Julian nodded, following him inside the corridor. Once they were out of the wind, Brodie whispered, “It’s pathetic. My girlfriend picked our first cruise to dump me.” Okay, I said it. Yes, I’m a loser. As he waited for the sympathy to appear on Julian’s fine face, something else emerged. Gazing at those blue eyes, Brodie wondered if his own light blue eyes had the same effect. Instantly his crotch lit on fire. Utterly mortified by it, especially when Julian’s glance swept downward, Brodie knew his tight shorts concealed nothing.
“What on earth is her problem?”
“Huh?” Brodie nonchalantly covered his hard dick with his hand. “Whose problem?”
“Nothing. Ya wanna catch a sauna or sit in the Jacuzzi?”
“Sure.” Brodie had no idea where those amenities were, so he tilted his head for Julian to lead the way. As he walked behind him, his cock rubbed against his sweaty thighs. He was dying to reach inside his shorts to adjust it, but too many people were coming and going in the narrow hall. Walking down the stairs to the lido deck, Brodie was surprised at all the goodies he hadn’t been aware of. A salon, bar, two pools, a weight room, and small kiosks of deli, pizza, and grilled food appeared.
Julian pushed open a door, holding it for Brodie. The scent of chlorine instantly wafted up his nostrils. A showerhead protruded from a tiled wall. As Brodie stood by, Julian took off his t-shirt, tossing it aside, rinsing the sweat off his body. The twitching in Brodie’s cock was growing intolerable. Remembering the room key, he reached inside his shorts, peeling it off his moist skin. As he did, Julian’s eyes caught the act. Holding the card as if to show him it wasn’t a lewd act, just one of practicality, Brodie knew damn well his shorts weren’t concealing his admiration of this stud. As the water soaked Julian’s tight red shorts, Brodie noticed the silhouette of a large erection. Son of a bitch. Julian walked to the whirlpool, settling into the heat.
Swallowing his shock at realizing Julian’s physical reaction mirrored his, Brodie pulled the damp shirt over his head, tossing it near Julian’s, standing under the warm spray. Rinsing his hair and face, Brodie spun around to wash off his back and noticed Julian’s gaze was connected to his crotch. Oh, this can’t be real.
