Minstel

The company I worked for had several factories dotted all over the place. After ten months, however, I had never been sent to the smallest of our tool producing plants. There was an ongoing joke at the company about visits to this godforsaken plant in the middle of ‘hick-land.’ Unsurprisingly, I was eventually sent to the small town on a three-day, two-night visit. I worked in the computer division of the company and several upgrades needed to be made at this plant. There were only two motels in ‘Hicksville,’ and apparently, I was staying at the better of the two.

In all honesty, the place wasn’t all that bad. My room was large and the enormous bed was extremely comfortable.

At around eight p.m. on the first evening, I entered the pub/dining area to have my dinner. It served traditional pub grub, but to my surprise yet again, was far better than I had anticipated.

The clerk at the reception desk informed me that they had live entertainment, and that ‘Minstrel Mike,’ was their current entertainer on a nightly basis. Mike performed from six till eleven every evening. Mike, as I would soon see, took a fifteen-minute break at a quarter to the hour, after completing his forty-five-minute session. Mike alternated between the keyboards and a guitar and had backing tracks to enhance his performance. I was again, pleasantly surprised by his skill and proficiency as he entertained the patrons.

Mike had a deep and pleasant voice, and his repertoire was varied and extremely enjoyable. On an impulse, I asked the waiter for a piece of paper, when I heard Mike say that he did take requests.

I scribbled down the name of two songs as a challenge, wondering if he would rise to the challenge. The first song was one of my grandmother’s favourites and was a Billy Joel classic from the nineteen-seventies, entitled; Just The Way You Are.

I watched entranced as he finished the song, before once again glancing at my piece of paper. With a laugh, he then announced that he had received another request from the same person. He further went on to say that he didn’t have a backing track for my second request, but would give it a go on the keyboards and that he hoped like hell that he still remembered all the words.

As he began to sing the song, in a higher key than he had formerly used, I was delighted by his masterful interpretation of the song. Naturally, when he finished, I gave him a hearty round of applause.

Mike wore his long hair in a ponytail and had a full beard, which wasn’t all that appealing to me. His plaid shirt, jeans, and cowboy boots, also led me to believe that he was straight, in any case.

When his third shift ended at a quarter to nine, he arose and walked in my direction. Naturally, I asked him to take a seat at the table and offered to buy him a drink in recompense for his efforts.

Close-up, I was stunned by how good-looking Mike was. Above all else, I couldn’t keep my eyes off his very sexy hands. They were big and broad and looked incredibly strong. Over the next fifteen minutes, we briefly exchanged life histories and I was surprised that he wasn’t married or involved or in a relationship. Something about him, however, intrigued me and my ‘gaydar’ was picking up a vibe from him. Please understand, that I am not one of those nauseating gay individuals who believe that all men are ‘to be had,’ given the right circumstances or their alcoholic intake.

Before Mike resumed his performance, I made another request, asking him to play the Fred Neil song Everybody’s Talking, made famous in the classic movie from the late sixties, entitled; Midnight Cowboy. 

This request met with his approval and he also had the backing track.

At a quarter to ten, he once more joined me and we continued our enjoyable conversation before Mike left to perform his last stint.

“I hope you’ll still be here when I finish,” he said before leaving.

“Only if you sing; Guitar Man,” I joked, now on a roll with the old classics. My granny would have been proud of me!

He did perform it, and his rendition of this David Gates masterpiece from 1972 was fantastic.

When he joined me at my table after his session had ended, it was clear that the workforce was keen on going home and so we made our way to my suite rather rapidly. Although we had not spoken about sex up to this point, I was sure that he was joining me for more than just a nightcap.

What astonished me about Mike after this point was how upfront he was. Without dallying, he told me that he was bisexual and had a strong feeling that I was gay. In honour of his frankness, I confirmed that his intuition was spot-on.

Once in my room, I poured us each another drink from the stock in my bar fridge. As we sat and chatted, it became clear that we enjoyed the same music.

“Will you be here tomorrow evening?” he then inquired.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Well, then what are your requests for tomorrow?” he asked.

“Do you know, ‘Blowing in the wind’?” I asked.

“Fuck, buddy, I am a Dylan fanatic,” he answered.

“Me too,” I replied.

“Well, is that all?” he answered challengingly.

“Well, why don’t we add a bit of Elton, as well?” I answered.  

“Which one of his songs?” he asked, inquiringly.

“Rocket Man,” I instantly replied.

“Fuck, Travis, I think you and I should get married,” he countered.

“Wow, Will I be able to afford all the tips?” I mockingly replied.

“Well, you can pay me in kind,” he answered, playfully.

“And how will I do that?” I challengingly answered.

With that he got off his chair and joined me on the sofa.

“Maybe like this,” he said before he commenced kissing me.  

The ardency of his intensity was heavenly, and soon I found myself completely overwhelmed by his passion.

‘Christ,’ I thought, ‘Mike is completely enrapturing me with his passion.’

I was putty in his hands as he took control of my face.

“I want to have sex with you, Travis, my body is aching to possess you,” he uttered as his arms and hands caressed me zealously.

Let me entrance you like Himeros and lure you into a vocal enchantment. Give yourself to me and I will mesmerize you with song. 

I had no idea what he was on about but decided to give in and let the chips fall where they may, as long as I was about to get fucked. I would only later learn that Mike had studied Greek mythology as a student many years before.

For me, however, having my legs in the air as he plowed my arse after we had undressed was all that I needed to know at that point. Added to that, his impressive infiltration negated all my inadequacies of knowledge on the subject. In short, I got the best fucking of my life.

When I left for work the following morning after he had departed for his accommodation, I had never been more impressed in my life.

That night, I was again overwhelmed by his musical dexterity when I sat listening to him. My requests exceeded my expectations because Mike was an unbelievable artist.

Happily, he also again joined me in my apartment afterward.

“Are there any other instruments you play?”

“Yeah, I play the mouth organ extremely well,” he answered with a mischievous look in his eyes.

Before I could reply, my body was moved to the bed and my trousers underpants flew off my body.

As Mike commenced his oral onslaught on my genitals, I began to gasp and groan.

“I’ve always loved the key of G,” he announced with a chuckle. With my limited technical understanding of music, I simply let my moans answer his musical tongue, lips, and mouth, as they lead me toward a harmonious paradise.

After a sixty-nine extravaganza with him, Mike turned his attention to my backside and commenced fucking me as I lay on my stomach. Later, once my legs were lifted onto his shoulders after he turned me over, his percussive drumming in my backside made me think that The Little Drummer Boy had arrived early for Christmas.

Throughout our hour-long session, Mike e kissed me and pleasured me more than I could ever remember at any time before. When we finally both unloaded, we were exhausted.

Afterward, as we had a final beer, I asked him if he had ever visited my neck of the woods.

“Travis, one of the problems for me in accepting gigs is that accommodation is always an issue. I simply cannot afford to pay astronomical prices if a job doesn’t include accommodation,” he informed me.

“Well, you can stay with me, if and when you accept gigs in my part of the world,” I assured him

 “Are you being serious?” he asked.

“Dead serious,” I assured him.

I knew that in a large city like the one I lived in, job opportunities would abound. Over and above that, after my two-night stint with him, I figured that having him around would be very agreeable.

“I also have a comfortable spare room that you can use if you get sick of me,” I joked.

“Mmmm, I can’t see that happening,” he countered with a lovely smile.

“Well, the offer stands,” I said in conclusion.

* * *

After I returned to my normal life I couldn’t help thinking about Mike, because he had made an indelible impression on me. 

I was delighted that we remained in telephonic communication afterward.

Six months later, I was delighted when I received a call to ask me if I had been serious about my offer to him. Naturally, I had and told him so.

After two years, I am pleased to report that we have become a couple and that Mike has all the work he can cope with.