All in the Eyes
By Simon Peter
Raffi was waiting in line, with some forty or fifty passengers ahead of him, at the passport control. He didn't mind the wait, though. He was enjoying the eye candy. He had booked this 6-day vacation to a resort, and the people around him were there for the same reason. The young guys in tank tops and shorts and flip-flops looked delicious, and hopefully, Raffi would score.
His eyes feasted on the hot bodies all around him. Suddenly, Raffi's heart skipped a beat. One of the young men four people in front of him turned around. The guy's face was handsome, true. Raffi had noticed this earlier from his profile. But he now saw that, when the guy turned around for two or three seconds, he was able to glance down at the guy's crotch. His eyes widened. No way! The guy must have inserted a banana or a cucumber inside his light-blue linen shorts. Raffi had never seen a guy whose limp dick was as thick and long as the one he was gazing at, not in real life, that was. And definitely not displayed like this in public.
Raffi had no eyes except for that guy. He was a head taller than the others around him. His hair was dirty blond, cut short. Raffi could see the guy's face in profile, and he liked what he saw, very much. A light brown beard, a classy nose. But he couldn't tell about the eyes yet.
Impatiently, Raffi moved with the slow line, his heart beating, his eyes glued to the back of the guy's head. It was not that Raffi craved for a big cock. He did crave for cock and that was why he was excited about this vacation, given to him by his parents as a college graduation gift. What Raffi needed to experience was some kind of a free gay relationship instead of the few furtive experiences he had had on the sly up until now. All he had tried with other guys was mutual jerk off and a few blowjobs that he had both given and received.
He watched the guy go through passport control and disappear. He heaved and shuffled on, waiting for his turn, wishing that he could have seen more of the guy, the imprint of the outlined huge dick inside the linen shorts vivid in his mind.
Raffi exited the terminal and looked for his ride, which was part of the package his parents had bought for him. He climbed onto the mini-van and took an aisle seat in the middle, enjoying the whiff of cold air from the van's vent. It was quite warm outside, somewhere in the low 30s by his estimate, which was great for what he was planning to do: relax on the beach in his swimming trunks and watch the hot guys and their bulges; the outlined dick that he had glanced minutes ago jumped into his head and he felt a pleasant tingling in his balls. He closed his eyes and wondered what it would be like if he had a boyfriend with a cock that big. Or not even a big cock; he would settle for the guy's body and face. Oh, the guy was sizzling hot.
With a start, Raffi opened his eyes, and just at his eye-level, approaching him, was the guy. Not any guy. The guy. And yes, oh yes, the huge tantalizing outline of his cock. He stared at the crotch as the guy approached down the aisle, and then with an effort, he glanced up. Their eyes met. Raffi melted.
The guy had those intense gray-blue eyes that bored into you, that seemed to get deep into your head, into your soul. Raffi must have paled as he felt his whole body shiver, held by the eyes. The guy stopped next to him, looking down, a hint of a smile on his face. He had a beautiful lower lip and Raffi would have given anything to lick it and suck on it. He involuntarily looked down at the bulge which was staring at him, right at his face, inwardly drooling at the defined cock knob outlined so beautifully. His arm muscles strained with the effort of restraining them from reaching out and grabbing that bulge.
Reaching for the straps of his backpack, the guy slipped it off and raised it to try to shove it into the overhead bin, and by doing so, lifted his t-shirt, exposing the most delicious hair trail thickening to disappear under the band of his shorts. The outline of cock became more defined, the knob sculptured, round and thick, right in front of Raffi's face. The guy must be free-balling, Raffi estimated. Looking back up, he saw the guy bringing back down the backpack, deciding to keep it with him, and he looked down at Raffi, one eyebrow raised, a smile, and a nod of the head towards the empty window seat next to Raffi.
"Oh," Raffi heard himself mutter as he straightened and moved his legs sideways. The guy slid in front of him, facing him, the crotch so magnetically and deliciously close to his face that he could actually have just bent a couple of inches and bit at it. With a sigh, the guy sat in the window seat, placing his backpack between his long legs.
"Wow, it's so fucking hot outside," the guy heaved as he settled down, spreading his thighs wide, almost touching Raffi's knees.
All that Raffi could utter was an "Umm," so noncommittal, yet inwardly he was so erotically excited. What were the odds? That this apparently such a beautifully hung guy who had so attracted him a short while ago was now sitting right next to him, almost touching? Raffi stole a quick glance at the crotch, and sure enough, the bulging cock was still inviting, and now in the seated position, even more pronounced, reaching halfway down the thigh. Raffi so wished that the shorts leg would pull up and the cockhead peek out. He snickered to himself silently, blaming his imagination for taking him to such erotic scenes.
"I'm Spencer," the guy said as the van started to move, taking them to the resort.
"Uh... umm," Raffi stammered, gazing at the proffered hand. "Umm... Raffi," he finally managed to croak, taking the hand, painfully aware of his own sweating palm, as more drops of sweat dribbled down his sides from his armpits in spite of the cold air blowing from the van's conditioner.
Raffi felt a squeeze as they shook hands; or was that his imagination? The guy seemed friendly. Still, Raffi couldn't find anything interesting to say after the names and the hand shake. What was he going to ask this Spencer guy? How big is your dick? Are you going commando? Raffi snickered some more inside himself, but the beating of his heart was still going strong.
"Here on vacation, I presume?" Spencer said breaking the short silence.
Raffi nodded and looked at Spencer. Immediately Spencer held him with his eyes, mesmerized him, impaled him. Those eyes: so piercing, as if looking straight into his deepest thoughts. "You too?" Raffi finally managed to ask.
Spencer laughed. "Uhuh. I could do with some sunshine," Spencer said pointing at his white legs, totally oblivious if the treasure he was packing inside his shorts.
Raffi looked down. The guy's legs were moderately hairy, but the thighs were fairly smooth and the skin beneath the scant hair did look pale. But the form of those thighs and legs, so masculine, the knees, the calf muscles. Raffi imagined those thighs spreading his own hairy legs wide, those knees kneeling between his own open thighs, and oh, that outlined dick, hard and ready to stretch and plunder.
"You're quite fit, though," Raffi commented, but immediately bit his tongue. Was that very forward? Was he hitting on the guy? Spencer gazed at him, again the hint of a smile on his lips.
"So are you," came the reply, and Raffi could sense more than just a compliment. Or his imagination again?
During the 50-minute ride to the resort, the two young men got to converse like any other two dudes who had just met would. Like Raffi, Spencer had graduated in May and was taking time off.
"So, Raffi, what kind of name is that?"
"It's Armenian. I'm Armenian."
"Wow," Spencer smiled, showing his white teeth. "I should visit there. I live in Holland. My dad is German but my mom is Dutch."
"I would love to visit Amsterdam someday. I've heard so much about it."
"Yes? Like what?" Again the smile and piercing eyes.
"Like, you know, weed, and liquor, and, well, sex," Raffi stammered, covering his embarrassment with a laugh, the uncontrollable glance down at the delicious crotch and outline.
