Lisa and I were having problems it wasn’t anything new. In fact, things had been getting pretty frosty between us for a while. We probably should have broken up, if it hadn’t been for a Mediterranean cruise we’d already booked, which somehow kept us together. I worked long hours and hadn’t really travelled in Europe, apart from a German exchange when I was at school.
Lisa and I had been together for a long time, long enough for small annoyances to harden into resentment. It crept up quietly. We stopped talking about anything that mattered. Nights became awkward, and instead of closeness we both chose the easier option of pretending to be asleep. Weeks turned into months like that, sharing a bed but living separate inner lives.
The only thing that still connected us was the cruise. We talked about it endlessly, almost obsessively, as if planning it could fix what we would not face. Seven days. Rome, Naples, Mallorca, and finally Barcelona where we would spend an extra 4 nights.
Everything else felt heavy. Work drained me, home felt stale, and the days blurred together until the morning we were due to leave. Something shifted then. Lisa was suddenly light and animated, laughing more than she had in months. As we set off, bags packed and worries temporarily abandoned, we both slipped into that rare, fragile feeling of being carefree again. For the first time in a long while, it felt like we were moving forward instead of standing still.
I had no idea then just how much the cruise, and the days that followed, would change everything.
Despite the laughter, the long days, and more than a few good drinks, it was clear to both of us that the cruise felt like a kind of farewell. There was a strange honesty between us, lighter than sadness but edged with truth. We were intimate for the first time in months, and it was surprisingly wonderful, maybe the best it had ever been. It felt unforced and present, as if we had finally stopped trying to fix anything and were simply enjoying each other again.
One evening over dinner, a conversation unfolded that neither of us had planned. We talked about how natural it felt that the cruise might mark the end of our relationship. There was no bitterness in it. Just an acknowledgment that while we shared a deep connection, something essential had been out of step for a long time. By the time the magnum of champagne was empty, the mood was warm and unguarded.
Lisa decided to turn in early, relaxed and glowing as she headed back to the cabin. I was restless, still buzzing from the evening, and not quite ready for sleep. Instead, I made my way toward the ship’s casino and entertainment decks, curious to see where the night might lead.
I found myself at a small table overlooking the ocean when a voice purred softly behind me, asking if I would like another drink. The accent was strong and musical, one I later learned was Filipino. I turned to see a slight waiter, no more than five foot three, with gentle, almost feminine features and an easy smile.
I ordered another drink and, as he walked away, caught myself watching the subtle sway of his hips. There was something about the movement, casual and unselfconscious, that stirred a memory I had not thought about in years. It took me back to an encounter from my youth with an oriental guy, brief and unfinished, interrupted before anything could really happen.
Excited and unsettled by what I had just seen, I hurried back to the cabin, hoping Lisa might still be awake and willing to help take the edge off the restless energy buzzing through me. She was fast asleep, breathing evenly, already lost to the night.
We disembarked and checked in to our hotel in Barcelona. The morning was bright and warm, and Lisa and I spent it wandering the streets together. At one point, we passed a small nail salon, and her eyes lit up at the window displays. She couldn’t believe the offers.
“I’m going to get pampered at these prices,” she said quickly, practically bouncing in excitement.
“No worries,” I replied. “I’ll kill some time at the local department store. Call me when you’re done.”
With that, we split up, each following our own little adventure through the city.
As I wandered the streets, I noticed a small sex shop tucked between two cafés. Curiosity pulled me closer, but I kept walking. A few minutes later, I spotted another one, this time decorated with rainbow flags fluttering in the window. Thoughts of the waiter from the night before came rushing back. I’m not sure what came over me, but I went inside.
The shop was quiet, and I nervously wandered the aisles, looking at the various items. I was the only customer. Then, from a back room, a voice called out. “Hola,” he said, and I felt a smile spread across my face.
He said something in Spanish, and I replied hesitantly, “English?”
“Ah, okay. Can I help you with anything?” he asked, coming around the counter. That’s when I noticed he was wearing a leather outfit—shorts and a fitted top. He was slight, with smooth, tanned legs and surprisingly feminine mannerisms.
“What are you looking for?” Sergio asked, tilting his head slightly, curious.
I hesitated. “I… I don’t really know, to be honest,” I admitted, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement.
He gave a small, cheeky smile and said something for this, gesturing toward the front of his shorts or something for this, with a teasing flourish, he turned slightly, showcasing his bum in the tight leather. His bold, forward question made me laugh, and I lingered a moment longer, unable to look away from the curve of his tight shorts.
“I’m not really sure,” I added with a laugh, “If it’s for the bum, I’d need something for beginners.”
He looked at me and smiled "maybe a plug" he said in his thick Spanish accent. I wasn't sure what he mean and told him. Sergio then went and got a small plug. I hesitated for a moment and agreed to the purchase aware that Lisa will be done soon.
"Lube?" he asked.
I shrugged. "If I need it" he smiled and was beginning to bag the items-"I dont need the box" trying to be discrete.
Sergio handed me the bag, his eyes locking with mine for a brief, unsettling moment. “Are you gay?” he asked casually.
“I’m not,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, “but I am curious.”
He nodded slowly, a hint of something unreadable in his expression. “You need to be careful with this,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make me lean in, “especially if you don’t really know what you’re doing.”
I frowned, puzzled, staring at him, trying to understand what he meant.
Then he leaned closer, just enough for me to notice the glint in his eyes. “You know,” he murmured, “if you want, I could show you how to use it… in the back.”
Naively, I agreed, imagining a simple demonstration, maybe even a PowerPoint-style explanation. I didn’t realize, not at first, the unmistakable desire lurking behind his words.
I followed Sergio behind the curtain, my curiosity warring with a knot of unease in my stomach. He took the bag from my hands and told me to relax. I froze for a moment, struggling to believe where I was and what was happening.
“Just trust me,” he murmured, his eyes locked on mine. He moved with a quiet confidence, and my mind raced—this was far beyond the simple demonstration I had imagined. Then I heard the unmistakable noise of something being prepared, a quiet, slick sound-I knew the sound, it was lube.
I leant forward and braced myself but I didnt feel the cold of the lube and the tip of the plug as I imagined. Sergio was using his tongue on my tight hole-my legs almost buckled from the pleasure.
"you like" he purred while reaching around and stroking my cock. It was at this point I had a moment of clarity-my girlfriend was having her nails done a few streets over and I had this guy I just met tongue exploring my virgin hole. Just when I was overwhelmed by the situation almost as if Sergio had sensed my angst he probed my hole with the plug-it was small enough to slide in without discomfort I let out a long moan which Sergio responded to by taking my cock in his mouth and gave me a tornado bj that still gets me hard when I think about it almost three years on. Almost at the same time as I filled Sergio's mouth, my phone buzzed. I glanced at it and told Sergio, “It’s my girlfriend.” He smiled knowingly as I answered.
“Hey,” she said, “the lady at the salon can do a full microblading treatment for a good price.”
“Go for it,” I replied, forcing casualness into my voice. “I’ll find a way to occupy myself for an hour.”
As I hung up, Sergio raised an eyebrow. “One more hour?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He walked over to the desk, moving with that same quiet confidence, bent over the desk and took his shorts down over his cheeks looked back at me and said "Want to try?" |
