Adventure on the High Seas

The week I take vacation has got to be the week I look forward to 
most during the year. I realize most people look forward to their 
vacation, but I think I look forward to mine more so than most. You 
see, I have a very stressful job as a stock broker, and when I go on 
vacation, at least for a week, I can forget about stock prices, 
market projections, and the value of the dollar versus the franc 
versus the pound. Ah yes, when I go on vacation, I don't think about 
anything but sun, sand, surf, and the half-naked men enjoying all of 
these things just like myself.

I normally go to the same little Jamaican resort every year to spend 
a week. I have been going to the same place for years because I know 
I can relax and not be bothered. The staff is very attentive and 
very discreet. Both important qualities to a single, gay man 
enjoying himself on vacation. As much as I enjoy the resort at which 
I normally spend my vacation, this year I decided to do something 
different. Instead of going to Jamaica, I decided to take a 
Caribbean cruise. My best friend and his wife had been on one the 
summer before and just went on and on about how wonderful it was. 
They talked about how friendly the staff was and how good the food 
was. They could have gone to work for the cruise line. They sold 
me! So I decided to skip my favorite Jamaican resort and enjoy a 
week on the high seas. It would prove to be one of the best 
decisions I ever made.

The ship I was sailing on was the SS Luxury and debarked from Miami, 
Florida. It was very aptly named. The ship was gorgeous! There 
were three sun decks, two swimming pools, a walking track, a putting 
green, a half dozen casinos, shops, dinning rooms, restaurants, 
clubs, a beauty salon, a gym, a spa, and many more amenities one 
might enjoy while on vacation. And there was more staff than you 
could shake a stick at. There must have been one staff person for 
every four guests. The moment I stepped foot on board, I knew I was 
going to enjoy myself.

One of the first things I did once I got on board was to find my 
cabin and unpack. I wanted to find my bathing suit so I could hit 
one of the sun decks as soon as possible. I located my skimpiest 
bikini bathing suit and started to get undressed. As I got ready to 
put my bathing suit on, I stopped to notice myself in the full-length 
mirror on the closet door. I took a moment to take a good, long look 
at my body—not bad for a man of 34. I've got a head full of red hair 
with just a hint of gray at the temples, and I must admit that I've 
taken care of myself over the years. Working on the stock exchange, 
I had to find some way by which to relieve the daily stress. I used 
the gym. And all these years at the gym had paid off. I've 
developed a very muscular 6"3 frame. My pecs are well defined with 
just a hint of red fuzz that begins at my collarbone and ends in the 
mass of my red bush. I've got a nice set of washboard abs, and my 
legs aren't too bad either. And not that working out at the gym had 
anything to do with it, but I'm kinda proud of the 7" dick that hangs 
between my legs too. All in all, I guess you could say I've held up 
pretty well over the years.

As I was coming to the end of my brief narcissistic moment, there was 
a knock at the door. I quickly pulled on my bathing suit, taking an 
extra moment to carefully tuck my penis away so it wouldn't pop out 
at the most inopportune of moments (it had been known to do that from 
time to time).

I opened the door and nearly had one of those inopportune moments 
because my dick immediately went on full alert. Standing at my cabin 
door was one of the most gorgeous men I'd ever seen in my life. It 
took me a moment to regain my composure and focus in on what he was 
saying. He introduced himself as Eros and explained that he was my 
cabin steward for the week. I asked him to come in and quickly 
excused myself to find a robe so I could cover a very uncooperative 
hard on.

When I returned, I introduced myself to Eros. I noticed his nametag 
indicated he was from Greece. Trying to make small talk and cover my 
embarrassment from earlier, I asked Eros where he was from in 
Greece. He explained he was from a little village named Kerkira. He 
spoke with a very heavy accent, and I knew I was hooked. I have a 
thing for ethnic men—a big thing. There's something about a tall, 
dark, handsome man that drives me wild. Some of the best lovers I've 
ever had have been ethnic men, so I'm always on the lookout for 
potential "encounters."

Eros was beautiful. He must have been about 23 years old. He was a 
couple inches taller than I was. He had long wavy hair that reached 
his shoulders, and his eyes looked jet-black. His skin was flawless, 
and I couldn't help but notice the bulge he was sportin in his 
steward's uniform. I made up my mind that I'd get a closer look at 
that a little later on.

Eros took a few minutes to explain his duties for the week. He 
explained that he'd clean my room daily, change the linens, and turn 
down my bed each night by 10:00 PM. He also explained that if I 
needed anything (he looked me square in the eyes when he said, 
anything) that I should not hesitate to call. 

I couldn't notice that he took a moment to look me up and down before 
he left the room. I quickly closed the door behind him because my 
dick quickly sprang back up and I knew there was some business I'd 
need to take care of before I went to the sun deck.

Over the next several days, I enjoyed all the SS Luxury had to 
offer. I ate, swam, sunbathed, gambled, and even had a massage. And 
although I hadn't had the opportunity to run into Eros again, I went 
to sleep each night with visions of that Greek god running through my 
mind. And I'm not ashamed to admit that Eros had been the object of 
more than one masturbation fantasy during the week as well.

As the end of the week came closer, I was determined to have my way 
with Eros. I needed something to remember this trip by, and I was 
bound and determined Eros's load up my ass was going to be that 
memory. All I had to figure out was when and how. 

The when turned out to be easy. I would simply call Eros and tell 
him I need fresh towels. The how would prove to be more difficult. 
Although I thought I noticed Eros checking me out that first day, I 
wasn't certain he was gay. I guess I'd have to play it by ear when 
he brought my towels. I mean, if I could talk stingy businessmen 
into spending millions on a stock prospect, I ought to be able to 
talk my way into one Greek god's pants. Right? 

About 7:00 one evening, I called the steward's quarters and asked for 
Eros. One of the other stewards told me Eros was delivering 
something to another guest at the moment, but he'd have him call me 
the minute he returned. Not five minutes later the telephone rang. 
It was Eros. I asked him to bring towels as soon as possible because 
I needed to shower and dress for dinner. He said he'd have them 
there in five minutes. In less than two minutes, there was a knock 
at the door. I quickly stripped and put on my robe. I loosely tied 
it and let it drape open to my belly button.