Paul was thirty-nine – still ten years away from middle age, he told himself – and alone. His brief marriage, to a sweet and lovely woman who turn...d into a cast-iron bitch before the wedding cake was stale, was far behind him. He had had a few involvements since, but had never found what he wanted. What Paul wanted was a friend, a lover, and – something else. Something very particular, to him very precious, though a little peculiar. And he had given up on finding it. He had no illusions about. He spreads his legs out and slouches a little to claim the space. He goes to the bathroom and then to his room and when he returns he's stripped down to boxers and a wife beater. When he assumes his seat, I notice that he is pitching a tent. Wishing I'd brought panties on the trip or at least worn briefs. Fishnets would have been perfect. I want to just reach out and grab that cock, but I hesitate. Eventually, he reaches over and rubs his hand up and down my thigh, gives a couple of pats and. More

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