Oh man, it's been a while.
-
My first time aboard my yacht was supposed to bring peace and seclusion. I was having terrible nightmares, and my therapist seemed really worried, so I tried to pay attention to her warnings for once and relax.
I found out soon enough that peace was impossible unless I somehow stopped the sea itself. Grey clouds, high waves and a shaking vessel were not a good sign. And seclusion, well, that was the last thing on my mind. I needed Joe.
Joe was short for Joelson; he was the yacht operator and professional captain. I didn't know much about him except what had been told by a friend who assured me Joe was the best. However, I was beginning to doubt that assurance, given how chaotic that first ride had been.
"Are you sure this is a good time to sail?" I asked Joe. "Maybe we should try another time."
"This is perfect," Joe said, turning his green eyes towards me. "No need to worry. I know the signs. Trust me, sir."
He sounded so sure that I actually believed him. I looked him over. He was maybe two inches taller than me, tanned, curly dark hair and a good lean physique. He looked young, early twenties, though he was actually past his thirties. How was that possible? You could only accept his factual age when you focused on his body instead of his angelic Italian face.
Trusting him turned out to be the right thing to do. Suddenly, the skies cleared. The grey unraveled into soft blue in a matter of minutes. The wind lost its rage, and brushed my cheeks like a caressing hand.
We were very far from the shore, it seemed, but Joe said:
"It's just an illusion, sir. You can relax."
"I'm relaxed."
I left him to his own devices and looked for those things which now seemed possible, the peace and quiet, away from job and family; the solitude I had been desiring. It was why I bought a yacht in the first place.
I drank coffee, read my book for an hour straight, and headed to the front deck again to see how Joe was doing.
"All good, sir?" he asked.
"Thanks to you, man. I still can't believe how quick the weather changed."
He winked at me. "I think I can admit now I was a bit worried for a moment there, but didn't want to appear insecure in front of my new boss."
I knew he was lying to me, he never felt insecure, he was just trying to protect my pride.
"You little bitch," I said jokingly.
That small moment of camaraderie sealed the deal. We had a long talk over his schedule and prices, but I was definitely sharing him with my friend. He would ride my yacht again next week.
Until then, I had to come back to my life. To dad, mom, to Larry, my brother, my co-worker, my ex-girlfriend. They all meshed together and became a mess of worries, demands and expectations. They all hated my new found hobbby, which was: to spend my money on whatever I damn liked.
Joe arrived earlier than me at the marinas. He took good care of the yacht. In a way, it belonged to him more than me, even though I bought it. He helped me aboard and I accepted it, even though I didn't need it. He had a rough grip.
Somehow I ended up unleashing on him all my frustrations in the form of a boring speech while he drove the boat out into the open ocean.
"Is that all?" he asked when I was done. I looked at him, expecting to see irony there, but there was only a genuine curiosity. There was more I could tell him, but I shook my head.
"That's all...for now."
We smiled at each other.
Joe was a good listener. When I had his attention, I felt heard, and I felt seen. They way he looked at me, through me, our minds joining and locking together like a key in a hole. I asked about his life and he asked about mine. A fair trade of intimacy, like I had never had with anyone, not even the friend who had introduced Joe to me, not even my brother.
Sometimes we were just sitting side by side, far away from the shore, and I would get small shivers when our legs touched. A simple brush of our skins which lasted a few seconds before one of us moved away and broke the connection, and only the shivers remained.
I would miss him when I was away, and I would constantly try to be the center of his attention when we were close. Look at me, Joe, look at me, I just want you to look at me, that was how it felt sometimes, but Joe never complained.
"What are you doing?" I asked suddenly.
"It's just the two of us. We're so far away. Relax, boss."
And he gave one of those smiles.
"Just touching? On top of the underwear?" I asked.
"Sure, for now."
His hand on my body. Mine on his. It was always a fair trade between us.
"You're gonna make me cum-uhh" I grunted. I expected guilt to wash over me, to ruin my life, change me forever. But the waves took the guilt away, and all I said was: "Do it again," and his hand obeyed.
"Just this time, Joe. I'm serious, I'm not that kind of guy," I said, "No judgment."
