To Places Unknown

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I looked at him again, not quite believing I heard what he said. "Join in...?"

"Yeah. Like there's nothing wrong if we get off together. We're just having a good time."

"Uh...right. Well, we'll see."

"How about now?"

I kept looking at him. My mind was blank and my body was frozen. I couldn't think of what to say.

"If you want...just asking. Anyway, I'm going to, if that's cool."

And just like that he undid his pants and slid them down. He pulled his t-shirt off and reached under his pillow and produced a bottle which I assumed was something slippery. His cock was already half hard and he dribbled some lube on it and spread it around the shaft and the head. He put the lube down and began to slowly stroke himself. He looked over at me, smiling. "Come on...join the fun."

I was so surprised at his complete lack of self-consciousness that I still couldn't speak. But then a little part of me seemed to say, fuck it. Maybe the alcohol had let something loose. I undid my pants and pulled them down a bit. I looked at my underwear which was trying to contain my hardness. I pulled my underwear down just below my balls. Another part of me was screaming, what the fuck are you doing? But in spite of myself, I turned to him and said, "Uh...can I have some of that?"

His smile broadened. "Sure, man. My lube is your lube." He tossed the bottle across the space between our beds. I took it and squirted some on my cock which was now rock hard. The cold touch of the liquid felt almost shocking as I spread it around and with a few strokes of my hand I was slippery. I put the lube down and looked over at him.

Greg seemed intent on the hand that was moving on his hardness. His other hand would occasionally squeeze a nipple or grab his balls. I realized that I was keeping pace with him. I couldn't take my eyes off his cock. I had never seen another guy hard before and really only seen people naked in the showers.

I looked down at myself. My dick was practically glowing and I realized that, compared to Greg, I was about the same size. The end of my cock was getting wet and a big glob of clear liquid was collecting at the tip and then it started to fun down through the groove under the head until it met my moving fingers.

"You should taste that sometime. It's really nice."

His voice startled me. I looked over and he was doing just that. He had collected some on his finger and he brought it to his mouth. It was like he was tasting icing from a mixing bowl. He smacked his lips. "Yum."

It was almost too much. I couldn't concentrate on all the sensations running through my body, all the things I could watch. My hand was going faster and the stream of liquid flowed out on to my fist. I took a finger and collecting a big drop from the head and, tentatively, I brought it to my mouth. It was sweet and a bit salty on my tongue.

"Nice, huh? It's my favourite part. Well, almost."

I wasn't sure what his favourite could be, but at that point -- the taste of myself in my mouth, the intense feeling in my balls and at the base of my cock, and at the tip -- I knew I was over the edge. With a rush and a gasp, cum started to rocket out of me, long spurt after spurt arcing over my chest and onto my chin. I don't think I had every cum that much in my life. I could feel some on my lower lip and without thinking, licked it off. I froze for a second at the taste which was a little bitter and salty.

He turned to me and said,"Fuck, Stu! That was awesome."

I continued to stare down at myself, then after a minute he gasped."Here I go!" And I looked over at Greg whose cock burst all over his chest. He gasped and arched his back. His cum slid forward onto his neck. When the last dribble had dripped onto himself, he ran his fingers through it and brought them to his mouth and he sucked them clean.

Greg looked over at me with his big smile. He stood up, grabbing his underwear and walked over to me. "Here. Give yourself a wipe." I took his underwear and without thinking, wiped my face, and my chest. I could smell him. They were his his and he had just been wearing them. Musky and almost woodsy.

I finished wiping my face and handed the underwear to him without a word. When he was done, he threw the underwear to the other side of the room and got back on his bed. "Whew. That was great. I'm going to sleep well tonight. How about you?"

I was still having trouble speaking, but I managed to croak, "Yeah...good night."

"Night Stu." We both shut our lights off.

I lay there for a while, trying to sleep. Part of me felt more satisfied than I ever had before, but another, stronger part of me was a little stunned by what I had just seen and done. This part of me -- the one that lived in fear and had lived in fear since I was a kid -- believed that I had broken a fundamental rule. Or that I had let go of the only priority that counted: staying safe. Things like sex, or love, were just distractions from the important business of survival and I had just let it go for a few minutes. That part of me now waited for retribution.

I knew this made no sense. Greg was a decent guy. A bit of an exhibitionist, but a good guy. But those old -- or rather young -- parts of us don't give up easily. I knew that sleep would not come any time soon and I lay there listening to Greg snoring and wondered what tomorrow would bring.

He was no different when I woke up. He was sitting, dressed, on his bed, reading as usual. He looked up when I yawned. "Morning."

He was so cheerful and felt strange and embarrassed. "Uh...morning." I got out of bed and grabbed my towel. "Shower."

He put his book down. "When is our shift today?"

I looked over at the clock on the wall. "In an hour."

"Right. Well...I'll see you in the mess hall."

"Cool." And I was playing cool. I didn't feel cool. Not at all. I walked down the hall to the shower room and then stood under the hot water as if trying wash away my confusion. And my excitement. And some other things that didn't even have names.

What was happening to me? I could feel waves of excitement running through my veins. I looked down at my cock, streaming with water, and it was getting hard. I felt like a fourteen-year-old. Except when I was fourteen, all that seemed important was staying out of the way of my dad's fists. That fucker. I don't remember thinking about sex. Or at least sex with actual people. Or even fantasies about sex with actual people. How was that possible?

As I shampooed my hair, I mused about it. I managed to come to the thought that for me, at that point in my young life, to allow myself to feel close with anyone was to invite disaster. And that included sex. But my cock was rigid. I was glad no one else had come in. Oh sure, some guys whacked off in the shower and on one really cared that much as long as you weren't showing off. There was no other way of getting off on a ship like this.

Except Greg had shown there were other possibilities.

Our shift was uneventful and I could tell Greg was a quick study. Not that it was all that difficult, but there were a lot of fiddly details and procedures. But it was also easy working with the guy. He was chill and he didn't get all tied in knots about stupid things like some of the other guys. He would just shrug his shoulders, or say that he'd remember for next time -- and he did. We came back to our cabin in the late afternoon and lay down for a while. I was a little scared he might want to...well...repeat what we had done before, but he just closed his eyes and was still.

I was relieved and did the same. It was comfortable just the two of us, dozing. We got up around six and went down the hall for food. The other guys seemed sleepy and cranky and we stayed out of their way. It always seemed to happen in the middle of the ocean as if being so far from land made them    uncomfortable and they took it out on each other.

One guy, Mark, was in a really foul temper and he tried to pick a fight with Greg. Probably because he was the new guy. He went on and on about something on our rounds that I had actually done wrong, but he took it out on Greg. Finally I broke in on his monologue and said,

"Fuck, Mark. Take a bloody pill. What's your problem? It was me who filled the fucking log out wrong, not Greg."

Mark grumbled a bit, but I could tell he knew he was being an ass. I sat down again and resumed eating. I felt Greg's hand on my shoulder.

"Thanks, man."

"No problem. He's always cranky but today he's got a real fucker of a bee in his bonnet. Stay clear of him for a while."

"Will do."

We finished our dinner in silence and then went back to our cabin. Before we left I said, "You can stay and play cards or whatever they're going to do, but I need to sleep." But he shook his head and we went back to our cabin.

Once I was lying down and he was sitting on his bed he said, "And thanks again for that back there. I hate when guys act like that. It reminds me of my dad."

I looked at him and I understood. "Yeah. Me, too."

"What was he like, your dad?"

Shit. I felt like running out of the room, but took a deep breath. "He was a fuck. He probably still is. He smacked my brother and I around all the time. Our mom was not in the picture, so it was just us."

"Right. I hear you. My dad was kind of the same. And there was just me, and my mom got it worse than I did. I stayed as long as I could but when I got into college I just got the hell out of there. It was either stay and protect my mom or save myself. A pretty shitty choice, right?"

"That's really tough." I felt a flood of empathy for him. And, a moment later, I realized I could -- and probably should -- feel it for myself. That was a new thought.

"Yeah. It was bad. I still worry about her, and she claims to be all right, but I wonder if she's just trying to make me feel better for getting out while she can't."

I thought about how much harder it would have been if my mom had been around when I was getting ready to leave. I don't think I could have done it. I looked at Greg's face with a kind of amazement. She died when I was two and Sid was one so neither of us has any memory of her. But I have always known there is a bit of an empty space in me where she should be.

I recognized the pain in my belly, recognized it from decades ago when everything felt empty, including myself. It must have shown on my face, because Greg got up from his bed and sat down beside me. He slung an arm around my shoulders and we just sat there not saying anything. Finally I felt a bit of panic at the closeness of his body next to mine so I said, "Look at us. Two refugees from middle America."

Greg laughed and his arm tightened around me. It felt both comforting and terrifying in equal measure. "Yeah. Look at us." He turned and looked at me for a moment, then stood up and went and lay down on his bed.

I was aware of the empty spot beside me. "Thanks, Greg. I mean, thanks for understanding." But I also had no idea what it was that he understood, but somehow the words felt right. I lay down and stared at the same ceiling I had been staring at for months. Or years.

I woke with a start and sat up. The lights were off and the room was quiet. I could hear Greg's softly snoring in his bed, which felt comforting. But I was wide awake. I was still getting used to his smell in the room, so different than Tom.

I lay for a while, until I became aware I was idly stoking my cock which wasn't hard, but certainly not soft. I was surprised, but I didn't stop. As I got harder, I threw the sheet back so I could feel the air touch my body, which felt nice. No one every touched my body, I realized. And I hadn't wanted them to...which also struck me. Had something changed?

I kept stroking myself and in a way I was not used to. It felt more intense somehow, even though I had done this many times with Tom in the room. But I could feel Greg beside me. And then another thought scurried past that I was afraid to hold on to. That the feeling I was having; this new more intense feeling was because Greg was beside me. I let the thought disappear hoping not to understand it.

I heard Greg clear his throat. "Hey man. Are you doing what I think you're doing?"

I my hand froze on my cock and I lay there, waves of anxiety rushing around my stomach. As if reading my mind, he said, "It's cool, you know. I did it, why can't you? I'm going to join you so maybe you won't feel too weird.

He turned his light on, which surprised me. "You don't have to turn that on..."

"Yeah, but I like to watch myself. It's more fun."

I didn't know how to process that one, but it wasn't like we hadn't done it before. "Sure." I hoped I sounded casual.

He was already naked and he propped his pillow against the wall. I decided to follow suit, and slid back and sat up. My dick was getting soft and part of me wanted to turn over and go to sleep. But Greg found his lube and dribbled it all over his cock then without a word, threw it across to me. He looked at me and smiled.

"Thanks...I should pay you back for this...when we get to England."

He laughed. "Sure. We can stock up on supplies." He was already stoking himself and letting out a satisfied sigh or two. I felt really aware that we were both nude, but I decided to just concentrate on my dick, which is what I always do. Then I heard his voice.

"You know I've got a bunch of porn on my laptop we could watch...but then I thought we should just tell stories."

"Stories?" I wasn't sure what he meant.

"Yeah. Make up stories. Like scenarios and see if the other person can add to it. Here, I'll start." He stroked his dick for a moment as he stared up at the ceiling. Then he smiled.

"So there's this guy working late in an office somewhere. There's no one around and it's about midnight. He's getting bored so he thinks: I'm all alone here, why don't I rub one out to pass the time? So he opens his pants and pulls out his dick and start to go at it...kind of like we are right now."

He stopped and looked over at me, his smile even bigger than it was. I already knew this about him, that when his smile got bigger, anything could happen.

"He's really getting into it. His legs are spread and he throws his head back. But all of a sudden, he hears voices coming down the hall. He looks up and sees two people coming into the office through the glass doors. The office is mostly dark, but there is enough light to see. He realizes it's two of his co-workers, a guy and a girl. He likes them, but catching him jerking off in their office is something he doesn't want. But it's too late, they see him." He stops and looks at me. "What happens next?"

I felt like I was on the spot and I had memories of being asked questions in high school and not knowing the answer. I didn't know what to say.

"It's cool, Sid. Just let your imagination go. What do you want to happen next?"

My imagination? I hardly knew what that meant. I still couldn't think of what to say. He spoke again and said, "What does your dick want to happen next?"

I slowed my hand on my cock which was rigid despite my discomfort. "I...I guess if this is a fantasy, then they aren't pissed...they actually seem excited...."

"Right. Cool. So what do they do?"

"Um...they walk over to the guy and watch him."

"That's good. Watching is fun. OK, my turn. They watch him for a while, then the girl starts fingering herself. The other guy unzips his pants and watches her. She's watching both of them. She pulls her underwear off and tosses it to the guy in the chair. Your turn."

I felt a little less weird and realized I was actually picturing the scene. "The guy in the chair picks up the underwear and tosses it to the other guy. The girl has taken off her dress by now. She looks at the guy holding her underwear and asks him to take his pants off. So he does. He starts jerking himself off."

Part of me was amazed that this came from my head but it just seemed to flow. Ny hand on my cock was moving faster and my cock was getting wet. I looked over at Greg and so was his. He caught me looking and smiled. "Fun, eh?"

"Yeah, it kind of is. Your turn."

He thought for a moment. "So the girl walks to the guy in the chair and gets in his lap...um...and he starts to fuck her. The other guy goes and stands beside her as if he's waiting for something. Your go."

"Right. You are dirtier than you look. So the guy who is standing looks at both of them, still stroking himself. He runs his hand up and down the woman's back and sticks his finger in her as the other fucks her."

I could feel my eyes widen at this and a sizzle of energy went through my cock. My mind had stopped thinking about what I was doing and who I was with, I just imagined the scene. I thought about Greg's word: I was dirty. What did that mean? But I let it go. I lost myself in the scene and said a bit more quietly, "And then he moves from the girl to the guy and the guy in the chair grabs his cock and starts to suck it. Your turn." Then I realized what I had said and wanted to take the words back.

"Ok. Now we're talking. So the guy in the chair is fucking the woman and sucking the other guy's cock. She is really going at sliding herself on his dick, but she's watching the one guy suck the other and so she feels left out and joins them so they're both sucking his cock...I don't know about you, but I'm really close to shooting. Do you need a turn?"

He looked over at me and I was still feeling strange for what I said, but I was so turned on that I could hardly think. I shook my head and my whole body seemed to erupt as blasts of cum shot out onto my chest, even on my chin.

"I'm right behind you..." and Greg gasped and, still jerking himself really fast, cum spurted out onto him. He caught some it in his other hand and brought it to his mouth and he licked if off. His cock kept spurting until his chest was wet and sloppy looking. We were both a mess.

I caught my breath finally and just sat there, my eyes closed and I realized I was afraid to open them. I was afraid to open them not so much because I didn't want to see Greg seeing me, but because a few slivers of memory were visible in some corner of my mind and I didn't want to lose them. I suppose if I told someone about them, they wouldn't seem that interesting, but to me they felt like a revelation.

One was from my earlier childhood at some point, and I was with my dad in the change room of a public swimming pool. I could still smell the chlorine. I was standing there, feeling awkward about getting my bathing suit on, but what stays with me is the image of a guy across from us totally nude, with just a towel around his neck. He was tall and I don't remember his face, but I remember staring at his cock nestled in dark hair. That's all I remember.

The second memory was less clear even though it happened when I was in my teens. I was walking down the street in the city of which my hometown was a satellite. I must have come with the only friend I had, Jim. I have no idea where this was in the city, but it was evening and we passed a bar that had tables along the sidewalk, and there were two guys sitting at one of the tables and they were kissing. The memory ends there.

Where the fuck had I been keeping these memories? There in my bed with Greg in the room they seemed clear, as if they happened yesterday.What did this mean?   

I shook my head and opened my eyes and turned to Greg. He had been watching me. "You ok?"

I laughed. "I guess so." I looked at my chest. "I need a shower."

I stood up and found a towel in the dresser. I pulled on some underwear and opened the door to leave. I looked over at Greg. "Do you want to come with?"

He smiled. "Sure. I'm a mess as well and it would suck to go to sleep like this."

We stood under the hot water in the communal showers. I put a lot of energy into not looking at him beside me and he seemed to get it. We didn't talk as we soaped ourselves and rinsed off. We didn't talk as we dried off and walked back to our room. We were silent as we pulled on some clothes. But I suggested we play cards because I wanted a distraction from the possible thoughts that would run through my head otherwise.

We played for a while even though it was the middle of the night. I knew I couldn't sleep and I was grateful that Greg seemed wide awake as well. But eventually I couldn't avoid it and I said, "Well...I suppose we should get some sleep."

"Yeah. We should." And we took off our clothes again and got into our beds. I lay for a while, but exhaustion finally won over and I fell asleep.

I woke early the next morning and went to the mess hall and ate. Then I took a long walk around the ship even though our shift was not for a few hours. I wanted to avoid talking to Greg for a while until my head sorted itself out. Until I could say something intelligent about what we had done -- or rather what I had said -- and what it meant. And how fucking exciting it had been to say it.