Cruising the gay Caribbean for more than the sun.
In this parallel view of a slice of cruising life from two different perspectives, two men, forty-seven-year old jeweler Doug and nineteen-year-old college student Chet, take the same five-day Caribbean cruise in search of a relationship.
Well-off Doug is definitely cruising to find a young man to “do” for him into his old age. Chet is somewhat hazily interested in finding the flip side of this arrangement. Doug knows he’s looking for a top. Chet, with little experience and only a desire, hasn’t decided what he’s looking for yet and his virginity is a hot topic with his straight fraternity buddies. The two searching men are taken in hand by a sexy, experienced Brazilian, who helps them both find satisfaction.
The question remains whether it will be with each other?
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I went up to the lounge at the top of the ship after dinner, the one where drinks were double priced, so that the riff raff who had saved all of their money in life to go on this one five-day cruise were kept away. I was hiding out from Margaret and Sheila, who thought I’d gone to my cabin. Not that the two of them weren’t well heeled enough to come up here, but they’d agreed, with a sigh, to go to the late floor show in the theater with each other since they’d reached a stalemate with me.
“Are you drinking alone?” the Brazilian-Argentinian, who said his name was Julio, asked when he came over to where I was sitting, nearly twenty minutes after we’d begun eyeing each other across the room. He wasn’t what I was looking for. He was several years older than I was. But he was handsome and well built and was a real smooth talker. He seemed to be a man of the world, and I imagined the he would be good in bed. He had confidence and he didn’t try to hide his interest when he looked at me.
When I told him that, yes, I was alone, he said, “A man shouldn’t have to drink alone. Especially a man as good looking as you. May I join you?”
“For saying I was good looking, you can do anything you want,” I answered. Later I wondered whether I would have answered that way if I hadn’t had several drinks. But I’ll never know the answer to that.
“I was hoping that would be the case,” he answered with a smile.
There weren’t any young men in the lounge who seemed to be flying solo, let alone ones who might be interested in what I was looking for. I had half hoped that the young man I’d seen at dinner would be up here, but of course he wasn’t. There was no reason why he should be. The older man he’d been with didn’t look like his walker would carry him this high in the ship.
While I was drinking my third vodka Collins, I admitted to Julio that I indeed was looking for a man to hook up with, but that I was interested in much younger men than I was. I didn’t mention that Julio obviously was older than I was, but the inference was there and he wasn’t a stupid man.
I remember ordering a fourth vodka Collins, or, rather, Julio ordering one for me and paying for it with his cruise card when it arrived, but I don’t remember drinking it all. I don’t remember anything that transpired between the fourth drink arriving and when I was bent over my bed, supporting my weight off the surface of the bed on my elbows and forearms, with Julio draped over my back.
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