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THE BOY WHO WANTED MORE.
The conference finished earlier than expected and as we left the meeting room a quick glance outside confirmed my suspicions that it was raining -- hard!
Sorry, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Robbie Baker; I am 20 years old and making my way in the field of consumer credit.
I had just attended the final meeting in a four day conference in Southampton on the south coast of England. The meeting had been held at the Imperial Hotel, but the company that I was working for had deemed that the accommodation tariff at the Imperial was way above what the Company was willing to pay, so I was booked into the nearby Travel Inn, which did not have it's own restaurant, but relied on the pub next door (owned by the same company) to provide it's clients with their meals. It had been arranged that I would stay tonight (Friday) and make my way home on Saturday.
Of course, my personal budget could not stretch to the Victoria Restaurant at the Imperial Hotel, but I had exhausted the limited choices at `The Jolly Sailor', the pub adjoining my hotel.
I went to reception at the Imperial and asked about decent Indian restaurants in the area.
Perhaps I ought to explain that I am gay, and have a passion for Indian young men and therefore developed as liking for Indian food, my reasoning being that while I was eating my meals I could legitimately ogle the Indian waiters who were serving me and my fellow diners.
I was directed to the Annapurna Restaurant about three streets away where, I was reliably informed, the food was second-to-none and the service excellent, and it had the added advantage of opening at 5 o'clock, so by the time I got there it would be open.
Now there are cheap Indian restaurants and there are rip-off joints. The Annapurna fell into the second category and I had to pay a visit to the nearest ATM to withdraw some extra cash and hoped that it would be worthwhile from the point of view of sexy staff.
I pushed open the door of the restaurant and to my surprise it was decorated brightly. No red flock wallpaper and red velour seating. The predominant colour was green and the tables were all arranged in high-sided, high-backed booths. Wherever you sat the only table in view was the one directly opposite you across the central aisle.
I asked for a table for one and was seated by a cute guy who was thirty-something at the first table on the left.
I shuffled around on the curved, high-backed bench-style seat so I was facing the table opposite and was surprised to see a black guy sitting at the table across the aisle. (Indian restaurants are usually pretty empty until around eight o'clock). He was in his early twenties, slightly built and pretty cute (or cutely pretty). It was difficult to judge his height but he certainly didn't look to be terribly tall. His hair was closely cropped, but would obviously be tightly curled Afro if allowed to grow. I nodded to him and smiled and he returned the pleasantry, but not a word was spoken during this initial exchange.
As I said earlier, I was attracted to Indian guys, but this black young man sitting opposite me was definitely, eminently fanciable. I felt obliged to open a conversation and couldn't believe it when I heard myself saying the oldest chat-up line of all time; "Do you come here often?"
He smiled back at me and said "Can't you think of anything more original than that?"
We laughed at our mutual humour and then he said, "Yes, I have to confess that I am a regular here. I know it's not cheap but the food is superb and always freshly cooked to order, so you can expect to wait a while."
"Suits me." I said "I'm in no hurry."
"Why don't you come over and join me?" he said "It'll save raising our voices, especially when the place starts filling up.
"I don't mind if I do." I said, and moved across the aisle to his table. "My name's Robbie, Robbie Baker" I said.
"Oliver, Oliver Twist." He said, "And before you say another word, I'll deck you if you even mention Charles Dickens. My mates call me Ollie, so consider yourself an honorary mate."
I laughed and said "Somehow, I don't see Charles Dickens' pale little waif of the same name in you."
"Well," he said "I'm not exactly tall and I'm not exactly fat and I'm not exactly ancient."
"Ah" I said "I begin to see a similarity."
"My parents had a sick sense of humour, but I'm the one that has to live with it. I have a twin sister called Olivia, so you can imagine she has to go through it too."
Just then the waiter came to take my order and Ollie asked him if both meals could be served together, then we could each sample the other's dishes, "If that's OK with you, Robbie." He turned to me and said.
"That would be great." I replied looking at the wine list, "And could you bring me a beer first off, and then a bottle of Chardonnay with the meal, please." Then I looked at Ollie and said "Shall we make that two beers and two wine glasses with the Chardonnay, my treat?"
"That sounds like a great idea" he replied, smiling.
By this time my instincts were telling me that this guy was more than a little interested in me so I decided to test the water and shifted my position slightly causing my left leg to come into contact with his right. I knew that if he moved away I was mistaken and would have to buy a new aerial for my gaydar.
I made my move and he didn't budge an inch. Our legs were now firmly against one another and I was enjoying the sensation immensely. We chatted a little about everything and nothing and I casually placed my left hand on my leg. After a short time his right hand arrived next to my left and we had reached a point in our conversation where we were relating our likes and dislikes. "Of course," he said looking me directly in the eye "I have lots of girlfriends, but they are just that, girl friends. I find that I can relate much more easily to another man." Then he lowered his voice and continued "Especially the cute ones." And with that he placed his hand on top of mine and smiled at me both with his lips and with those big brown eyes.
For a split-second I was speechless before I replied softly, "You're pretty cute yourself." And gave his hand a squeeze.
The conversation became more intimate as we exchanged details about ourselves. I learned that he and Olivia shared pretty much everything. They shared a flat and they ran their own business together as computer software engineers. They had also shared a boyfriend once but it had caused a brief rift between them and they decided that he just wasn't worth it and dumped him. Since then Ollie had been unattached and on the lookout for a new man in his life,
The food arrived and after filling our plates we both ate one-handed, holding hands under the table. The meal was leisurely and as we ate we continued to get to know one another better and when the bill came I insisted on paying for everything; so Ollie insisted that I go back to the flat where, he promised me, he would ply me with fresh Arabica coffee and extremely fine old French Cognac.
Needless to say, I agreed to his offer and we walked the half-mile to his flat, which was in a modern block in what seemed to be quite a wealthy area.
When we entered the flat I was impressed to see that it was beautifully furnished and well kept and had a great-looking sound system. "You choose some music while I go and put the coffee on." Said Ollie and disappeared into the kitchen."
I chose a Nat `King' Cole album of love songs and figured out how to work the CD player.
"Lovely." Said Ollie, emerging from the kitchen, "I'll be with you in just a moment." He went into another room, which I presumed was his bedroom. He reappeared a couple of minutes later, bare-chested and barefoot wearing what can only be described as a pair of very fine yellow silk trousers, too nice to be pyjamas but too thin to be worn in the street. His beauty almost took my breath away. He poured generous measures of brandy into two glasses and placed them both on a low coffee table, then he looked me in the eye, took me in his arms and kissed me.
How do I describe that first kiss? Our lips met as Nat began singing "Unforgettable". Ollie was obviously experienced as, indeed, was I, but I had never experienced a kiss like this before. My toes, quite literally, curled inside my shoes and I sprang to attention inside my trousers.
As we broke the kiss there was only one word I could say. "Wow!"
"Yes," said Ollie, "that was quite something. Let me go and pour the coffee and we'll try it again. If you want to change there's another pair of these (fingering the silk trousers) on the bed. Make yourself comfortable." Then he ran his fingers down my cheek saying, "You really are quite, quite beautiful."
As Ollie went into the kitchen I went into his bedroom and was pleased to see a good-sized double bed, which I had little doubt we would put to good use later, on which was lying another pair of silk trousers, this pair in a beautiful deep shade of ruby red. I stripped and put my clothes on the chair and slipped the silk trousers on. My only problem was there was just no way that I could hide my state of hardness.
I slipped out of the bedroom hoping to be able to sit myself on the sofa before Ollie emerged from the kitchen, but no such luck. As I walked through one door he walked through the other but I needn't have worried as he was just as aroused as me.
He handed me a cup of delicious-smelling coffee and I swallowed a mouthful gratefully. We put our coffees on the table with the brandies and embraced again, this time skin to skin and if I had thought the first kiss was great, the second was absolutely fantastic. As we broke the kiss Ollie pulled me down on to the sofa, laying me on my back and draping himself over me. I was grateful that he was slightly built otherwise it would have been uncomfortable, but as things were it felt just right.
To say that I was hard by this point is an understatement and I could feel Ollie's hardness rubbing against my own as we resumed our kissing. The skin of his back was like satin under my fingers as I explored his body, and as I slipped a hand inside the waistband of his trousers I heard a female voice say, "Hello Ollie, I won't ask how you're doing, I can see you're doing pretty well."
I jolted upright, pushing Ollie away from me as he said "Hi, Sis, did you have to interrupt?"
I did my best to look nonchalant. As nonchalant as I possibly could considering I was looking at a beautiful black girl whilst wearing nothing but a pair of her brother's silky trousers, having been caught underneath him with my tongue half-way down his throat. Oh, yes, and with my erection resembling a yacht's boom in full swing sticking out of the aforementioned trousers.
"Oh yes," said the lady, "I can see the attraction, Ollie."
I blushed as I tried to tuck myself away and Olivia giggled as Ollie said "Livvie, I'd like you to meet Robbie, Robbie this is my twin sister, Livvie."
`Hi,' I said "sorry about ... ... ... ..." Livvie giggled again, telling me not to feel embarrassed as I had nothing that she hadn't seen before.
I took a hefty swig of my brandy to try to steady my nerves as Ollie walked across to hug his sister. "Robbie and I met in the Annapurna and decided to share a table." He said.
"Looks like it was more than a table you were sharing," she said, grinning "and you should feel privileged, Robbie, he doesn't even let me wear his silkies." She added.
I chased the brandy down with some coffee and felt normality returning as Ollie took me by the hand. "Time for bed." He said winking at Livvie.
"Lucky boy" she said.
Well, I'm not too sure who was luckier, I just know that I have never experienced such an exhausting, totally satisfying night, during which I resolved that my first job on Monday morning would be to apply for a transfer to our Southampton office.
When I awoke on Saturday morning and turned over to see the most gorgeous man lying beside me with a huge grin on his face I knew that this was where I wanted to be for ever, and I think he felt pretty much the same as he whispered, "Please, sir, I want some more."
TheGayNarrator@hotmail.co.uk
This story originally appeared on the `Gay Authors' site.