Cruising the Ship

By stayedhere

Published on Oct 31, 2024

Gay

Hi all!

I am glad to hear that you enjoy this story, and have given me nice feedback going forward. Keep it up. I have rewritten the beginning and published it on Amazon under the pen name Philip Stone. Feel free to check it out along with other stories. https://www.amazon.com/author/philipstone

I hope you like this new chapter. Don't forget to support this amazing site at donate.nifty.org.

Happy reading /Stayedhere

Cruising the Ship - Part 4

I sat in my room and tried to read A Tale of Two Cities, but my mind was a blur. I couldn't believe I had taken such a risk, letting Paul fuck me at the sinkhole. Alice had spotted us, and she hadn't responded to any of my texts. On top of that, Paul would be coming this afternoon to continue with the work on the deck of our house. I had no idea how I would face him after what had happened between us. I knew I had to tell Alice about what was really going on, maybe it would help me understand it myself. My gaze shifted from the book to the room around me. It was still a boy's room, with movie posters and video game box art adorning the walls. The bookshelf was full of classic novels that I had read and reread. I was 19, learning to be a man, but in that moment I felt so young. I was someone who was still trying to figure out who he really was. Just then, I heard a knock on my door.

"Kyle, honey, Alice is here," my mom called out.

Alice. Her name left a bitter taste in my mouth. Even if I had tried to contact her, in reality I was terrified. I reluctantly put my book down and opened the door. My mom gave me a warm smile before motioning for Alice to come in. Alice looked different today. Her eyes held a new firmness, and her smile wasn't as friendly as before.

"Hey Kyle," she said.

"Hey," I whispered, unable to look her in the eye.

We stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to say. I decided that it was better if I blurted it out. I owed her that much, at least.

"Look, I'm sorry about the other day," I blurted out, looking down at my feet. "I didn't mean for you to see that."

Alice didn't say anything, so I took a deep breath and continued.

"Well, I did", she said. "You know it's a sin."

Her words hung heavy between us. I had been taught my entire life that the feelings I had for men was wrong. I looked into her eyes and could see the hurt and disappointment. I didn't respond, unsure of what to say. She sighed and crossed he arms.

"Being with a man like that. Does that mean you're..."

Alice trailed off, her eyes pleading with me to deny it.

"Gay?" I supplied, feeling a weight lift off my chest as I finally said it aloud. "Yeah, maybe I am."

Alice looked at me with a pained expression.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I didn't know how," I confessed. "And I thought you would hate me for it."

Alice took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"I could never hate you, Kyle. But Ann told me he is married." Alice replied, her voice dripping with concern. "With a child!"

"It's Danielle's kid", I said.

"Like that matters", she said, "and how old is he anyway?"

"Paul's 40," I replied, sinking down onto the bed.

Alice's eyes widened.

"Kyle, he's like twice your age! That's insane!"

I couldn't help but feel a little defensive.

"It's not like that, Alice," I assured her. "He's not some old pervert. He's just...different."

"What do you mean 'different'?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "He's older, he's a man, and he's married. What else could be different?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to explain it.

"He....He has a way of making me feel things I never thought possible."

We sat in silence for a moment. I knew it was much to take in, and I was glad she hadn't just stormed out of the room . I also knew I had to be honest with her if I wanted our friendship to survive.

"I'm sorry, Alice. I didn't mean for this to happen. I had no idea how to deal with these feelings," I admitted.

"Well, what are you going to do now? Will your parents accept this?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "Probably not. It's all such a mess. Now that Dad has hired him for this job at the house, and Mum inviting Danielle over for a barbecue tonight."

"You need to be careful, Kyle. Seems like a recipe for hurt."

I couldn't agree more, but I didn't want to upset her further. I knew how much she cared about me, and how difficult it was for her to accept this. I also had to admit that she had a point. Given Paul's presence in the house and my mom's invitations, a confrontation seemed inevitable. I just hoped it wouldn't be as disastrous as I imagined.

"I got to go", Alice said , snapping me out of my thoughts. "I know we need to talk more, but I need to think about this. I care about you, but I just think it's...wrong."

I nodded, unable to make out the expression on her face. She gave me a loose embrace before leaving the room. I followed her out to the door, and waved goodbye to her as she walked outside. I couldn't believe she was leaving so soon. I felt empty and helpless. I shut the door behind her and leaned against it, closing my eyes. It was the first time I had used that word - gay - to describe myself. I had been struggling to understand my feelings, and I still didn't have all the answers.

I got back to reading, finally getting engrossed in Dickens' world of revolution and cruelty. I realized that my life also revolved around two cities. Tallahassee where my parents attended church every Sunday and Pensacola, where Paul lived with his family. I was completely torn between my fantasies about Paul and the reality of my life here, what was expected of me. I could not stop thinking about Paul and the way he made me feel. The intensity of his gaze, the roughness of his hands, the taste of his lips. I made a decision, I would try to maintain a proper distance to Paul, even if it ripped my heart apart.

I was distracted by voices from outside. I went to the window and saw Dad helping Paul carry equipment to the deck. I watched them from the shadows of my room, feeling guilty for being deceitful but unable to look away. The way Dad trusted Paul, laughing at some joke he had made, and how easily he joked around with my father made me feel sick. He had a family, and I couldn't let myself forget that. Paul was wearing a tank top with his faded jeans. I saw the sweat glistening on his skin as he moved the deck chairs back into position. I felt myself growing hard, and I closed my eyes, trying to suppress the urge to go outside and rip his clothes off. I knew I should look away, do something to take my mind off him, but I couldn't help myself. I stayed there, imagining Paul's muscles flexing as he walked, the way his thighs moved with each step. I could hear the sound of the hammer echoing across the deck, as Paul nailed the last of the deck boards back into place. My heart raced as I watched him, my thoughts consumed by the memory of how he had felt inside of me. My hands started to shake and the book I had been holding dropped to the ground. I knew I had to stop watching him work, but the sight of his muscular body was too enticing.

I bit my lower lip as I remembered how his mouth had tasted, how good his mouth had felt against mine. I imagined him kissing me again, pressing his hot body against mine. I reached down and started touching myself through my shorts, feeling myself grow hard. He had barely spoken to me after the incident at the sinkhole, making some excuse about not wanting to hurt his family. I knew it was bullshit but hearing him say it stung. The shame of my actions, the way I had just let myself go and ignored all the red flags, made me feel like a fool.

It didn't take long for me to get lost in the fantasy. I imagined running my hands over Paul's hairy chest, feeling the roughness against my smooth skin. I could almost hear his deep, breathy voice as he whispered filthy words in my ear, telling me exactly how he wanted to fuck me again.

My mind raced with images of Paul's toned body and rough hands. I felt myself getting closer to release. But then, in the distance, I heard a car door slam. It snapped me out of my fantasy. I pulled my hand away from my shorts, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. I shook my head, trying to clear the dirty images from my mind. I picked up the book and threw it on my bed before walking downstairs to see who had arrived.

As I came down to the living room, I was met by Mum who was chatting with Danielle. Next to them stood a young girl with long black hair in a pony tail, Leah. I recognized her as Danielle's daughter. She looked just like her mother. As I approached, I could feel the icy stare of Paul, who was leaning against the kitchen island, nursing a beer. I greeted them all politely and tried to avoid his gaze.

"How are you, Kyle?" Danielle asked me cheerily.

I was relieved that she had been the one to break the awkward silence that had befallen the room ever since I entered. I gave her a small smile and then looked at Leah, who stared right back at me with the same curious eyes. I cleared my throat and tried to think of how to respond.

"Can't complain. It's nice to meet you again," I lied.

I turned to Leah and extended my hand to shake hers.

"Hi, I'm Kyle."

She looked at my hand for a moment, her gaze unwavering. Then, she reached out and shook it, her grip firm and confident.

"Hi, Kyle. I'm Leah. I've heard a lot about you."

Her words caught me off guard, and I felt a chill run down my spine. I could only imagine what Danielle had told her. I squeezed her hand back, trying to keep my cool.

"All good things, I hope," I said, forcing a smile.

Leah looked at me for a moment, her eyes scanning my face.

"Everything she said about you sounded wonderful. She said you like to read a lot. I do too."

I let out a small laugh, feeling relieved.

"Can't lie about that. I just finished reading A Tale of Two Cities ."

"I love that book!" Leah exclaimed. "We were just talking about it in school. Do you think the revolution was necessary?"

Her eyes sparkled with interest. I could see Danielle watching us with a smile on her face as Paul looked away, still nursing his beer. I felt a rush of gratitude towards Leah, she was saving me from the tension that had been between Paul and me ever since that sink-hole incident.

"Well," I replied, considering my words carefully. "I think that in some ways it was unavoidable. But the bloodshed wasn't necessary. The ruling class had to go, but they could have been removed without violence. The revolutionaries didn't need to go on a rampage and start killing everyone."

Leah seemed to be really enjoying this conversation. She was hanging on every word I said. I couldn't help but think that she would make an excellent debate partner. Danielle looked proud, like a mother watching their child succeed in something, while Paul looked increasingly uncomfortable. It was apparent that he wanted nothing more than to get out of this situation.

"Change is good, but does it have to be violent?" Leah asked.

"History doesn't make excuses. And it was a dying system."

"Looks like we have a revolutionary in the house", Paul muttered.

I detected a slight sneer in his voice, and it pissed me off.

"Speaking of houses, Paul, I was thinking that maybe you guys could stay with us for the night", Mum said, breaking the tension. "It might not be the best idea to drive back Pensacola so late at night, especially after drinking."

"Are you sure it's not a bother?" Danielle said. "It's a really long drive."

"Of course. We have two guest rooms in the back."

The thought of Paul sleeping under the same roof was unnerving, especially since he seemed to have decided to treat me like air. Maybe he was right. Maybe I wanted a revolution -- as if those things could be planned at all. I decided to join Dad on the deck outside as he stood by the barbecue and tended to the sizzling ribs.

"Hey, kiddo!"

He greeted me warmly as I stepped out onto the deck, his face reddened from the heat of the grill.

"Hey, Dad," I replied with a smile.

I sat down on one of the chairs scattered around the table and watched as Dad poked and flipped the sizzling stack of meat with a pair of tongs. He was a good cook, and I always loved his barbecue.

"What do you think of the deck, Kyle? Don't you think me and Paul did a good job?"

"Yeah, you did great," I said.

It really was amazing what Paul had accomplished during just a few days. The deck looked like something out of a realtor's brochure. It impressed me, and I couldn't help but admire his dedication and hard work. He was good with his hands. I remembered the way they could make me feel, and forced myself to block the thoughts. I couldn't allow myself to lose control around him again. It wasn't right.

"You sure it's not a problem if we stay the night?" Danielle asked worriedly as she carried a bowl of potato salad to the dining table.

"Of course not, dear." Dad answered. "You and Leah can take the large room."

The rest of the evening went smoothly, at least on the surface. Danielle, Paul, and Leah sat at the dining table with us, and we enjoyed a dinner of perfectly cooked ribs, grilled corn on the cob, and a crisp green salad. We chatted about everything from the sights on the cruise, to our shared love for books. I saw Paul drinking more than he should have, his eyes never really meeting mine. I wondered what was going on in his mind, did he regret what happened between us? I glanced at Leah from time to time, noticing the way she looked at her mother and stepdad. It was a look of love and trust, making me feel terrible.

I wondered what she would do if she knew what Paul and I had done on the cruise ship, how he, trembling and eager, had taken my virginity. I squirmed in my seat, trying to rid myself of the guilt and shame that threatened to drown me. As I looked at Paul across the table, I couldn't help but admire him. His eyes were dark, full of deceit and hunger, and his lips curled up into a smirk that made me shiver. It was wrong, so wrong, but I couldn't help myself. I wanted him. I wanted him so much that it hurt, but I had decided. I would maintain distance to save myself. Alice had been right in her advice. I excused myself early from the table, claiming a headache. My mother looked concerned but didn't pressure me further, and Danielle offered me some aspirin. I accepted it with a smile and retreated to my room. My head was spinning as I got into bed, my thoughts swirling with memories of what could have been and the frustration of what was not. I had lied about the head-ache, and wasn't really sleepy. The party downstairs were winding up and I head heated voices arguing. I didn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out that Paul and Danielle were having a heated argument about his drinking. I had seen her looks on him during dinner. I felt a twinge of guilt, as if I in some way was to blame for this, but pushed it away. I opened the window and sat in the windowsill, letting the cool night air wash over my cheeks, hoping it would help to clear my head. It didn't, but at least it gave me some peace.

I was almost on the verge of sleeping; my eyes were just closing when I heard a noise outside my room. I recognized Paul's raspy, drunken voice. My heart began to beat faster, and my body tensed up. I didn't know if I should open the door or pretend that I was asleep. Before I could decide, the door slowly creaked open. Paul stepped inside, shutting the door gently behind him.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady, but failing miserably.

Paul walked over to me, closing the distance between us in a few long strides. He reached out and cupped my face in his hands, his fingers rough from the day's hard work. His eyes were wild, nearly black, and his breath reeked of alcohol.

"I couldn't sleep," he said gruffly, leaning down to kiss me. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"You said we couldn't do this anymore," I said. "Danielle and Leah are downstairs."

"We had a fight", he said sheepishly , his hands still gripping my face tightly. I could feel his breath against my lips, warm and wet. "They're asleep, they can't hear us."

"You're fucking drunk. Get out!" I hissed, pushing him away.

I could feel the desire building up in my body, my cock growing hard in my pants, but I couldn't let myself give in.

"You can't just expect me to...to do this."

Paul stumbled back, his eyes wild with lust.

"Why not?" he slurred. "I fucking want you, Kyle. Don't act like you don't want me too."

I couldn't deny it, even if I wanted to. My body heated up intensely at the thought of him taking me right there in my childhood room. I looked into his dark eyes, feeling myself slipping. He reached out and touched my thigh, moving his hand up, gripping it tightly.

"Come on, baby," he whispered hoarsely. "Just one more time."

I gasped as his hand moved higher, cupping my obviously hardening cock through the fabric of my boxer shorts. He leaned in, biting my lower lip roughly.

"Oh god, Paul," I gasped, my body trembling. "Please stop."

His lips moved to my neck, his tongue flicking out to trace the line of my pulse. He was disheveled, his shirt crumpled, and half unbuttoned as if he had been sleeping outside. His hands trailed under my t-shirt, feeling the skin of my abdomen, then drifting up to my nipples. He circled them gently with his fingers, causing my breath to hitch as heat spread across my body. I shivered when his lips touched my neck again, moving down towards my collarbone. I gasped as he licked sensitive skin, before biting gently on it. I should've pushed him away as he was drunk but instead, I clung to him for support. I couldn't help myself; I felt empty without him inside me.

"Your body is amazing, kid", he murmured, his fingers trailing down my torso and grazing the sides of my abs. "So smooth and sexy".

I swallowed hard, feeling a strange mix of pleasure and shame at his words. But God, it felt so good to be desired by someone like him.

"Stop that", I breathed, my voice hardly more than a whisper.

"What's the matter, baby? Don't you want me?"

I didn't answer him, but he already knew the answer to that question. He pressed his lips to mine, kissing me deeply and passionately.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. His tongue darted into my mouth, probing and exploring. I moaned softly, feeling my cock throb against his hip. He moved his hands down to my waist, gripping the edge of my t-shirt and pulling it upwards. I broke the kiss to allow him to pull it off of me. He tossed it to the floor, then looked down at my bare chest with wild hunger in his eyes. He leaned down and pressed his lips to my neck, kissing and biting gently as he moved down towards my chest. His tongue snaked out, tracing a wet line across one nipple, making me gasp and cling to him even tighter. I could feel his erection pressing against me, hot and hard through his jeans. My hands were in his hair, tugging gently as I arched my back, offering myself to him.

"You want this, don't you, Kyle?" he growled, his voice husky with desire. "You want me to fuck you right here ?"

I couldn't deny it.

I nodded mutely, biting my lip as he continued to tease my nipples with his tongue and teeth. He reached down and tugged at the waistband of my boxer shorts, pulling them down and off with a practiced ease. I stepped out of them, naked before him. I watched in awe as he unbuttoned his crumpled shirt , revealing his muscular chest and furry abs. His gaze never left mine as he popped open the button on his jeans, shoving them down along with his boxer briefs in one swift motion. His cock sprung free, hard and eager, reaching out towards me. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it, even as he closed the distance between us, pressing his lips to mine in a hungry kiss that stole the breath from my lungs.

His hands were all over me, touching, groping, squeezing. His lips traveled down my neck, across my chest, and settled on my nipple. It was as if he couldn't get enough of it. He bit down gently, causing me to gasp in pleasure. I could feel the heat radiating off his body, the scent of him, musky and masculine, invading my senses. He pressed his erection against my lower stomach, letting me feel just how much he wanted me. I wrapped my hand around his cock, marveling at the feeling of him, smooth and hard in my grasp. All my sense of shame melted away under the heat of my desire for him. I couldn't help it; I wanted this man who was married, and that I never could really have completely.

As I jacked him off, Paul broke off our kiss, his head thrown back, eyes closed as he moaned softly. I watched as his cock pulsed in my hand, his foreskin sliding back and forth over the sensitive underside with each stroke. His breath came out in ragged gasps. I could see his muscular chest flexing as he clung to me, his fingers digging into my flesh. I continued to jack him off harder and faster, feeling my own arousal grow stronger with every sound that passed his lips. My own cock was now also hard and leaking. I reached down to touch myself, but Paul stopped me.

"No," he whispered hoarsely. "Let me."

He grabbed my hand, pulling it away from my cock. I whimpered at the loss, but I understood that he needed to take control.

"You're mine," he said, his voice low and rough.

It was a command, not a question. I knew I belonged to him in this moment. Paul pushed me gently down onto the mattress, his hand landing on my chest to hold me down. I stretched out beneath him, my body arched and ready. He hovered above me, his chest heaving with his rapid breaths.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to mine once more, his tongue delving into my mouth. I could taste the remnants of alcohol on his tongue, but it didn't deter me. I clung to him, my fingers digging into his muscular back. I wrapped my legs around his waist, bringing him closer to me, feeling our cocks rubbing together.

"We need to be quiet," he said.

I nodded in agreement. I didn't want to be caught and I knew the consequences if Danielle and Leah found out. Paul reached down, grasping both of our erections in his hand, giving them a firm stroke together. I gasped softly, biting back a moan. My hands were in his hair, pulling him down into another desperate kiss. I could feel the sweat on his skin, could feel our hearts beating rapidly against each other.

His touch was rough, but I reveled in it; I craved it. Paul's grip tightened around our cocks, and he began stroking us together, jacking us both off in a long, steady rhythm meant to keep us quiet. I gasped as he broke our kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, his stubbled chin scraping against my skin and sending shivers down my spine.

"Fuck, Kyle," he groaned, kneading my hips with his free hand.

Paul fumbled around in his discarded jeans until he found a condom and a small bottle of lube. He tore open the condom packet with his teeth, then rolled it down over his throbbing cock. I watched, entranced by the erotic sight of him stroking himself in preparation for what was to come next. I swallowed hard when he uncapped the lube, pouring a generous amount onto his fingers.

"Baby, you're so fucking hot," he growled, his fingers tracing a path down my torso towards my eager hole. "I need to be inside you."

He breathed harshly before he swirled a lube-covered finger around my entrance, making me whimper and spread my legs wider in response. I arched my back, pressing myself against his hand, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside me. His fingers circled my entrance briefly before he plunged one inside me, causing me to gasp in pleasure, the sensation of him filling me was intense. He slowly added another finger, stretching me out and making sure I was ready for him. It was dizzying to lie here in my bedroom, buck naked with Paul filling me with his fingers. My cock twitched with every thrust, leaking pre-come onto my stomach. He put one hand over my mouth.

"We need to be quieter," he whispered.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My heart raced in my chest, and I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead. I tried to compose myself, but all I could focus on was the feeling of Paul's fingers inside me. I looked up at him, and his gaze was burning into me. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip, catching the drool forming from the pleasure coursing through my body.

The sensation of him filling me was incredible, and I wanted more. My body was on fire from his touches, his kisses.

"God, you're so fucking hot," Paul growled, pulling his fingers out of me.

I whimpered at the loss, but he quickly replaced them with something bigger: his cock. I groaned as he slowly pushed inside me, filling me inch by inch. The feeling of him stretching me out made my nerves tingle with pleasure. It was intimidating, the size of him - but also exhilarating.

I bit my lip, trying to keep myself quiet as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of me. The feeling was intense, like I was being torn open and filled up all at once. But as he began to move, I quickly adapted to the sensation, the pleasure overriding any initial discomfort. Soon, it felt like he was a part of me - his body moving in rhythm with mine, each thrust eliciting a gasp from me.

"That's it," he muttered, his lips on my ear. "Take it all."

Paul began to thrust deeper and harder, our sweat-slicked bodies slapping together in a rhythm that made my entire body shake with pleasure. I wrapped my legs around his waist, matching his movements with my own hips. The sound of our lovemaking was muffled by the blankets and sheets as we both tried to keep as quiet as possible. Every time he plunged into me, I felt a burning sensation that mixed with pleasure. Paul pressed a hand over my mouth, silencing me. I bit down and sucked on his fingers, but he didn't seem to notice as he continued to thrust in and out of me. His movements were hurried, the force of each one pushing me further up the bed.

He let go of my mouth, moving one hand down to grab onto my cock. He began to stroke me in time with his thrusts, making my head spin with sheer pleasure. His touch was rough and exactly what I needed to push me towards the brink. I could feel my orgasm building up, the familiar heat spreading from my lower abdomen up to my chest. I reached up and grabbed onto his arms, digging my fingers into his skin as I moaned his name. My entire body stiffened as I came, my semen spurting all over Paul's hand and stomach.

He groaned softly, his own orgasm following hard on the heels of mine. I could feel him pulsing inside me, the friction sending shivers down my spine. My legs trembled as I clung to him, my arms feeling weak. Paul collapsed on top of me, his breathing labored and quick. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close to me as our bodies slowly calmed.

Exhausted, we both lay still for a few minutes. Paul was the one to move first. He pulled out slowly, careful not to hurt me.

"Ah, fuck," he groaned, his lips brushing against my ear.

I trembled beneath him, my entire body still shaking from the intensity of our lovemaking. I could feel myself drifting off, my eyes growing heavier with each passing moment. I knew we needed to stop, but I couldn't find the strength to push him away. I was too far gone; lost in the pleasure he brought me. I was torn between my guilt and the desire to be with him. Paul's hand gently caressed my cheek, bringing me back to reality. I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. He looked different, softer somehow. It was unnerving, seeing him like this. His usual confidence was all but gone, replaced with a vulnerability that made me feel guilty. As he sat on the edge of my bed, his gaze bore into mine.

"I gotta get outta here," he muttered, standing up and fumbling with his pants.

I stared at the back of his head, unsure of what to say or do. I didn't want Paul to leave, not yet, but he didn't have the courage to tell him that either. It was an impossible situation , but as always, Paul was the one who ended up bailing, just like he had done in the past. He turned to me one last time before disappearing out the door.

"Get some rest," he said in a low voice, his eyes lingering on mine for a brief moment before disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

I lay there in my bed, still trembling with pleasure and exhaustion. My mind raced with conflicting emotions. I felt guilty for betraying my family's trust, but at the same time, I couldn't deny the truth: I wanted Paul. But it had to be on my terms.

Next: Chapter 5


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