Date: Mon, 20 Oct 2008 16:39:05 +0100
From: patrick staff <patrick.staff@googlemail.com>
Subject: cruise ship part 1

All the usual disclaimers apply. Try to adhere to all the rights rules and
regulations.


Cruise Ship part 1


In the main foyer of the ship is a small bar, a half moon shape lined with
glittering lights and bar stools. The waiters prowl the inside circumference
whilst in the centre, on an elevated platform, a piano player plays. When he
is not there a small cd player positioned under the piano repeats for him.
This is one of those occasions.

It is late at night and I am at the bar, the boat is steady and the view out
of the windows is simply a reflection on the glass of what's inside as the
outside is pitch black. I have drunk enough to feel loose limbed and relaxed
and more receptive to strangers, and so with a slight flinching I am letting
a larger, older man push down on my shoulder and the top of my back as he
tells me about living in middle America.  or Canada, since he assumed I knew
the geographical location of the city he said he lived in and of course I
smiled as if i recognised it. He was around twice my age, kind of haunch in
that way that men of his age become, with short cropped hair that was
silvering, set against the darker wrinkled skin of his forehead that lay
heavy over his eyes. He wasn't unattractive but I felt nothing for him nor
any prevalent physical desire. I imagine his cock, thoughts of having sex
with him, not deciding whether I want to or would but just imagining the
details of it happening. I contemplate how he's older than me, his skin
probably looser, hanging off him, which cabin we'd go to if we did fuck, his
or mine, his probably possessing a balcony and room service, mine on the
inside of the ship with no windows or air. He'd probably prefer mine because
its dinginess would lend to the fantasy of him lowering himself to fuck a
guy half his age, the air of trade or something.

I'm intrigued by our positioning, socially, whether I feel like I am for
sale or not. The piano cd has just looped and it irritates me to still be
here, to notice when it starts playing from the beginning. My interest in
this situation is simply fueled by my desire to be desired. and the fact
that I am here, on a boat in the middle of no where, at a bar with a man
older and duller than me, but more powerful, with bigger hands, bigger teeth
and more money and life experience. I am nervous and nervously smiling,
repeating yeah yeah to seem interested, I have a seething distaste for the
situation on the inside and in retrospect, but there I am being amicable,
amiable, awkward. The highlight of the conversation is as he provides me
with life experience, extolling living in foreign cities, the potential, the
chance meetings, encounters and I act eager to listen and learn, cement our
positions as elder and subservient, stronger and wider palmed to younger and
drunker. I am keen for his eager friendliness to slip and to suggest that he
dominates me, or that he will escort me back to a room, mine or his or
better somewhere illicit.