by Wolfe, Sean
The moment I laid eyes on Antonio, I knew I was in trouble. He was tall and tanned and toned and quite possibly the most beautiful man I’d ever laid eyes on. He wore white shorts and a white muscle shirt with the ship’s logo, and his dark skin contrasted with them wonderfully. His black hair, soul patch, and dark brown eyes mesmerized me. He had a wide smile with thin, pink lips, and his eyes sparkled when he spoke.
“So, I hear you have a boo-boo,” he said in a deep voice and sexy accent that made my knees shake.
“Yes,” I managed to squeak out. “I pulled my hamstring.”
“Well, let’s get you undressed and on the table. I’ll have you feeling better in no time at all.”
I’d like to say that my eyes didn’t bulge or that my breathing was not noticeably labored as I listened to Antonio speak those words. But neither is true.
“Don’t worry,” Antonio said, and smiled. “I’m a professional. You can leave your underwear on if you like, although the massage will be more helpful without the hindrance of clothes. You can crawl under the blanket if you want. To start out, anyway.”
I’m sure I looked like I’d just swallowed a bucket of barbed wire.
“I’ll be in the next room getting some oils and candles ready. Just lemme know when you’re ready.” He walked out and closed the door behind him.
I stood there for a moment, paralyzed. I was fifty years old, for chrissake. I’d been naked in front of dozens of men. I worked out three times a week and walked around the locker room completely naked with no care whatsoever. I played racquetball on the courts at work and changed in front of my co-workers on a regular basis. I went for a physical checkup with my doctor every six months. So why should I have this reaction to stripping down for Antonio?
Because when I looked at all those other men, I didn’t envision them naked and oiled up and hard, picking me up and carrying me to a king-sized waterbed and fucking my brains out. That’s why.
I undressed, shaking like a third grader at his first public spelling bee, down to my underwear, and crawled under the sheets, lying on my stomach. “Umm, I’m ready,” I stammered quietly, “anytime you are.”
Antonio walked into the room, and placed candles around the room. He dimmed the lights and turned on some soft, relaxing music that emanated from unseen speakers. He was shirtless now. “Sometimes the shirts just get in the way of a good massage,” he said, and smiled. “And they tend to get oily, too. You don’t mind, do you?”
“No, I suppose not,” I said. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, even though it was hard to look up and around at him while lying on my stomach. His chest was powerfully built, with tiny brown nipples in the center of each pec. It was covered in very short (probably impeccably clipped), thick black hair that dropped down to leave a thin trail right between his two rows of hardened six-pack abs. The hair got thicker and a little longer as it disappeared into the waistband of his uniform shorts.
“We’ll start on your stomach, then pay special attention to your injured hamstring. But it’s important to work over your entire body, so that the muscles around the hamstring are relaxed as well. They’re all connected, you know, and all work together to make you work properly.”
He started massaging my feet, and I felt every muscle in my body tense up. My breathing became shallow, and my heart raced.
“You know the old song, ‘The ankle bone’s connected to the shin bone’,” he said as he massaged around my ankle and my shin. “Well, the same thing goes for your muscles. They all connect and work together as a machine.”
“Mmm hmm,” I moaned as he rubbed oil into his hands and began working his way up my calves and shins. His hands were really working magic on my legs, and I fought the urge to fall asleep. He worked delicately but deep as he massaged my hamstrings and stretched and pulled them in positions I didn’t know were possible.
As his strong hands squeezed the backside of my upper legs, they brushed against my ass cheeks and perineum, and I hardened instantly, vanquishing any thoughts of sleep.
“This is where the underwear becomes a problem,” he said, and skillfully removed them with one hand as he caressed my ass cheeks with the other. He kneaded them as if they were bread dough being prepared for the king of the world.
“Relax,” he said softly as my reflexes kicked in and I tightened my ass as hard as possible. “There’s no need to impress me here—which I am, by the way. The point here is to relax as much as possible.”
I took a deep breath and relaxed as he continued working my ass muscles. My cock grew harder the more he worked me over and pressed my hips deeper into the cushioned table. He eventually moved to my lower back, which I was grateful for, and then up to my shoulders and neck.
“Okay, my friend,” he said as he massaged my scalp. “Time to turn over so we can work the frontside.”
“Is that really necessary?” I said a little too panicky. “I mean, it’s my hamstring that’s injured.”
“Yes, it really is necessary,” Antonio said, and gave my scalp an extra little squeeze. “Hamstring muscle connected to the chest muscle and all that, remember?”
“I seriously don’t think I can ...”
“Turn over,” he commanded, and I did.
Most men’s cocks will lie right across their belly when fully hard. It’s natural. But mine does not. It points straight up in the air, reaching for the ceiling, and that’s exactly what it did as I turned onto my back on Antonio’s massage table. My cock was hard as a rock, and red in some places and purple in others, and I could’ve died of embarrassment.
“Looks like your hamstring isn’t the only muscle that needs some working,” Antonio said, and moved closer and spread his legs so that he was straddling my face. He reached down and massaged my neck and chest, tweaking my nipples a little as he did, but avoided touching my cock.
The ship had a strong reputation for complete and absolute customer satisfaction. In most circumstances the staff was to anticipate the guests every whim and desire. But when it came to sexual services, it was a different ballgame. No one wanted a sexual harassment suit, so when sexual favors were in play, the staff was well trained to wait for the customers to request something. Never assume you know their wishes or desires. So Antonio stared admiringly at my hard cock, but continued massaging my chest and abdomen. At this point his crotch was only inches from my face, and his cock was hard. The tip of his dark, uncut cock peeked out from the underwear and I caught a glimpse of his foreskin as he spread his legs further.
I was so lightheaded that I reached up and squeezed his cock from inside his shorts leg.
“Do you want it, my friend?”
“Yes,” I managed to squeak out.
Antonio pulled his shorts and underwear off in one move, and his long, thick cock bounced in front of him and thumped me in the face a couple of times. His balls were huge and shaved and smelled lightly of baby oil. I took a deep whiff and then licked them lightly and sucked them into my mouth. He moaned to let me know he enjoyed it, so I took them both in my mouth and sucked on them for a couple of minutes.
He leaned over and licked my balls and cock. His own cock found its way to my mouth, and as he sucked my cock into his mouth, I did the same with his. We worked in perfect harmony. He deepthroated me, and as he slid up my cock to catch his breath, I swallowed his cock deep into my throat. We went at it like that for several minutes, and I had to really concentrate on not cumming too quickly.
He stopped and looked at me with the most adorable, puppy-dog eyes I’d ever seen. I saw the desire in them as clearly as if it had been written in ink across his forehead. But he was well-trained and couldn’t assume anything or make the first move.
“Fuck me, Antonio,” I said.
“Oh, thank god.” He moved to the foot of the table and he spread my legs wide, forgetting about the pulled hamstring. He knelt between my legs and licked and kissed my asshole as if it were a chocolate-filled sopapilla and he were a chocoholic.
; I moaned and wriggled and pushed my ass closer to his probing tongue. It was long and strong and filled me up.
But he was just getting started, and had grander plans in mind. When my ass was quivering and puckering, begging for more and dripping with his saliva, he stood and placed the head of his cock at my asshole. I couldn’t believe how hard and hot and big it felt as it pressed against my hole.
“Shove it inside me, Antonio,” I said, and pressed myself tighter against his cock.
He was well-trained to listen to his customers, and slid his huge cock deep inside my ass in one deliciously slow stroke. It felt like a baseball bat going up my ass, and deep in my consciousness, I made a note that I should have felt some hesitation and a little pain from the experience. But I felt neither. As each inch of his fat cock slid deeper inside, I became more alive. My body tingled and grew hot and squirmed to get even more of this hot man inside me.
Antonio was a very skilled fucker, and he pushed and pulled and twisted and maneuvered me into positions I’d never have thought possible—especially with an injured leg muscle. But I felt no pain at all, only ecstasy. He pounded me hard and rough for a few moments, pulling his cock all the way out and then slamming it back in a few times ... and then slid in slowly and gently and left his big cock buried in my ass as he wiggled it around inside me. The contrast of styles drove me wild, and brought me to the brink several times.
But when he fucked me slow and deep, and then sucked my dick at the same time, I lost it all together.
“Fuck, man, I’m cumming,” I cried out, and grabbed the sides of the table. When he didn’t let go of my cock, but intensified both the sucking and the fucking, I warned him once more. “Dude, I’m seriously gonna blow ...”
He swallowed my cock deep in his throat and slammed his dick deep to his balls inside my ass as I exploded inside his mouth. My body convulsed as I blasted my jizz down his throat. I fought to catch my breath as seven or eight shots spewed from my cock. Antonio didn’t remove his mouth from my dick until he’d sucked every last drop of cum from it.
He quickly pulled his cock from my ass and moved to stand next to my face. From this angle, I couldn’t believe how huge it was, and that it’d been so deep inside me. He pumped it a couple of times, then grabbed my head. A second later the first jet of hot, thick cum splashed across my face, and several more quickly followed. About a minute later, my face was completely covered in Antonio’s load. I licked as much as I could into my mouth, and then Antonio leaned down and licked up the rest. He leaned in to kiss me, and I sucked on his hot tongue to taste as much of him as I could.
“Fuck, that was hot, my friend,” he said as he broke our kiss and rested against the table.
“That might possibly be the understatement of the century,” I said, taking in deep breaths.
“I want to see you again.”
“Absolutely. I’m here for the duration of the trip.”
“And after that?”
I looked at him as if I’d taken the short bus to school when I was young. “After that I live in San Diego and you work on a cruise ship.”
“But I have a place in San Diego.”
“Look, Antonio, you’re very hot. Quite possibly the hottest man I’ve ever been with. But I’m fifty years old. You’re what? Twenty-three, twenty-four?”
“I’m thirty-five. And you don’t look or act a day over forty. You’re very hot, Mr. Thomas. I find you extremely attractive.”
“Thank you. And please call me Jim. Antonio, I’d love for you to fuck my brains out like you just did every day for the rest of this trip if you want to. But I’m just not looking for a relationship. I work a lot and really like living alone.”
“Me too. I’m not looking for a husband. I like my independence very much. But I am in San Diego a couple of times a month for two or three days at a time. It’d be really great to be able to hook up with you when I’m in town, go to dinner, hang out a little, and fuck our brains out, as you say.”
I laughed. “I’m fifty.”
“Yes, I heard you.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“I find it very sexy. I find you very sexy. And if you find me very sexy too, then I don’t see any reason why we shouldn’t become regular fuck buddies and good friends. I’d love to come home knowing that I get to fuck that incredible ass of yours.”
“But ...”
“Don’t make me stalk you.”
I laughed again, and leaned up to kiss him. I still tasted his sweet cum on his tongue, and knew right then that I’d go along with the plan.
“I want gifts from every trip,” I told him.
“Done.” He leaned down to return my kiss. “Now, get out of here before people start talking about how long we’ve taken. Wrap the leg and use alternate heat and cold compresses every four hours or so.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“And I think we need to make an appointment for every afternoon for the rest of the trip. You know ... to make sure we stretch those muscles and get you healthy. Work it out with Karen at the front desk.”
I laughed and left the massage room, and made my daily appointments with Antonio.
And then I resisted the urge to skip back to my cabin.
Like Riding a Bike
Harry watched from his window as the cab pulled up to the half-circle drive. Earlier that day he’d overheard one of the orderlies say that a new resident was arriving later that afternoon, and he’d sat at the window ever since, waiting. The building was a U-shaped brick single-floor design. Harry had one of the choice rooms, in the center wing. Not only was he closer to the nurses’ station than most, but he also had the best view in the entire home. From his window he could see everyone that was arriving, and also the windows of most of the rooms on the other wings. At least the rooms that faced the front of the building, as his did.
He looked at the wings on either side, and saw no fewer than a dozen curtains pulled ever so slightly to one side. Mrs. Goldsmith, Mrs. Rubio, Mrs. Felter, Mrs. Callahan, and Mrs. Schooler. Those were the ones he recognized right away, and it didn’t surprise him at all that they were gawking out their windows. Goddamn piranha, they were. They were always in everyone’s business, and anytime a new resident was admitted, they were all over them. Didn’t matter if they were male or female, those catty old biddies pounced on them even before they’d signed the paperwork. If the new res was a man, the piranha cuddled and coddled and pinched him like he was a tomato at the market. The unsuspecting gentleman would later that evening find several slips of paper with the women’s names and room numbers in his various pockets. Harry knew, because they’d attacked him before he’d even made it inside the building when he first arrived. If the new res was a woman, they’d still be right there on top of her, clutching her arms and walking with her, immediately filling her in on the gossip of the house, and warning her which of the “taken” or “unavailable” gentlemen to steer clear of.
“Goddamn snakes,” Harry mumbled under his breath.
The cab door opened, and the passenger stepped onto the sidewalk. Harry gasped as he took in the beauty of the man. He was tall and slim, but seemed to be well put together, according to the way his shirt and slacks clung to his frame. His hair was a shiny silver, and he had a mustache of the same magnificent color, but speckled with several black hairs. Even from this distance, Harry saw the guy’s eyes were blue-gray, and they scanned the premises like a practiced hunter. Those eyes seemed to rest right at Harry’s window, and Harry closed the curtains quickly, and took a couple of deep breaths before he opened them again and looked back outside.
The man was walking toward the main entrance now, and swatting away the attempts of staff to help him get from the cab to the door. He’s still strong, and still proud, Harry thought. He could now see the man more clearly. He was right, the eyes were a steel blue, and filled with life. At this range, Harry saw they were framed with long black eyelashes. The nose was long and distinguished, and his jaw was
square and set strong.
The man took Harry’s breath away. Literally. He had to take a couple of deep breaths before he allowed himself to head toward the door. It was vital that he get to this handsome stranger before the Ya-Ya Sisterhood did. He was seventy-three years old, for crying out loud. This might be his last chance. And even if it weren’t, it would probably be the last time he had a chance at someone this handsome and self-possessed.
But Harry was too late. He heard them cackling from way down the hall even before he turned from the window. When he reached his bed, the entire gaggle of them were zipping past his door, cackling and whinnying like an escaped stampede from the local zoo. They were pressed against one another, standing on their tiptoes and pushing others aside to get a better look.
Goddamned piranhas, Harry spat out not so quietly, and looked around to make sure no one heard him.
“Okay, ladies, make some room.” It was Sandra, the head nurse. She was the one person on staff that Harry had befriended, and had held in confidence. He’d often told her that if the Universe had been kinder and made him normal, that he’d have asked her hand in marriage. And she would happily accept, she’d told him dozens of times, and then kissed him on his very balding head. She looked over at him now and winked, as she muscled her way through the mob at the door. “I said, make some room. Let the gentleman through. You don’t want to look desperate!”
Desperate would be an upgrade to first class for this coven, Harry thought. Gasps spread through the group of women at the tone of Sandra’s words, and they disassembled from around the door. As they scattered around the desk and entry area, Harry smiled, and tipped his hat to them. “Gloria,” he said to Mrs. Rubio, and blew her a kiss. She grunted and gave him the finger.
He laughed and watched with all of the interest and hopefully none of the desperation of the widows as the new res walked through the door. The cooing and girlish giggles were immediate and deafening. The new guy stopped halfway through the door and scanned the place. Harry thought he looked like he was assessing an enemy attack.