Nathan

Marco was depressed, he sat at the beach bar staring out to sea with an extremely large Mojito. Everything seemed to be going well for everyone except him. Carlos and young Nathan were desperately in love. Coco and Johnathan were desperately in lust, and then there was him, desperately lonely.

He yearned for his younger days when he was a pretty young thing like Nathan or Johnathan, when men lusted after him and he could pick and choose who he went to bed with. He sadly yearned for the days when he and Coco were an item, they’d done everything together, they were in love and the sex was amazing.

The day he found out Coco was married he was devastated, he truly thought they would spend their life together, he felt hurt, but more importantly, betrayed. That fateful day he decided to end their relationship, it nearly killed him, and at his lowest point he seriously thought of taking his own life, just as he had when he was abused by his uncle as a child.

A single tear rolled down his cheek. There was only one thing for it, he’d get wrecked. He called the waiter for another large mojito. As he sat and reminisced of his past lovers he noticed a man, slightly older than him, sit by himself at a nearby table. He was extremely good looking, very distinguished and looked a tad like George Clooney, who had always been a heart throb of Marco's

The man slowly scanned the area and stopped when his eyes met Marco, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He peered over his Prada sunglasses and smiled.

Marco could feel his face flush and he quickly looked away. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to act like he wasn’t interested, but he was.

The man smiled again and called the waiter. He ordered a bottle of the finest champagne and two glasses. Marco rolled his eyes and was bitterly disappointed as it was obvious that he was waiting for a friend.

The waiter then appeared by Marco's side. “Sir, the gentleman over there would like to know if you’d care to join him for a glass of champagne?”. Marco suddenly turned into that pretty young thing he used to be, he blushed, flattered his eye lids, picked up his man bag that he’d tied to the table leg and proceeded to drag the table, one chair and the half-drunk mojito along with him.

The man started to laugh as Marco’s blush, turned into full scale embarrassment, as he went one way, the mojito went the other and the table followed suite. It was like a scene from the bird cage. He tried to laugh it off, but he just wanted to die.

The waiter untied his bag and told Marco to go and he’d clear up the absolute carnage the Marco had caused by just getting up from a chair.

The man stood as Marco approached still red faced, he was clutching his shirt like it was a blouse, he spoke as he held out his hand, “Charles is the name, and you are?” Marco giggled like a school girl, “Marco, pleased to meet you" fortunately he stopped himself from curtseying, or there would have been more embarrassment, and he would have left.

Marco sat down, still extremely flustered, just wishing he’d not taken up the offer of bubbles and sat and got pissed by himself. He’d noticed Charles had a strong Texan drawl, which he found extremely attractive.

Charles spoke, “I hope you weren’t offended by me asking you for a glass of Champers, it’s no fun drinking by yourself, and what could be better than drinking the best Champagne in the company of a very good-looking man.”

Marco felt himself blush again, he took a large gulp of bubbles to calm himself and giggled stupidly through pursed lips.

“If you don’t mind me saying Charles, you’re an extremely good-looking man yourself, and your accent” he stopped short of calling the man sweetie “Your accent, well, it’s very arresting”

Charles looked at him, thinking mmmmmm, I can see where this is going this afternoon. He spoke again, “Arresting, you mean as in me being the cop and you the bad boy?

Marco went bright red and giggled like a school girl for the second time, “Oh Charles, I don’t know what you mean!”

The man removed his glasses and stared Marco in the eyes, he raised his glass and said, “Oh I think you do Marco; you know exactly what I mean" and with that, he moved his foot and rubbed it up Marco’s leg who just wanted to melt into the man’s arms.

“So, Marco, I hope you don’t have any plans this afternoon, as I feel a game of cops and robbers coming on, what do you say?”

Marco felt an unfamiliar twitch in his arse hole he’d not felt for a while, he was hard and mouse, and judging by the bulge in Charles’s shorts, he was very pleased to see him. His throat was suddenly dry, he took a large swig of his bubbles, peered over his sunglasses and said, “You better arrest me now officer"

That afternoon, Marco relieved his youth, he felt wanted and needed. Charles was an extremely dominant lover and he knew how to pack a punch with those Texan thighs. Three times Charles fucked him, and three times, Marco rode the man like a bitch on heat.

He arrived home at midnight walking like he’d been in a rodeo. Carlos was waiting for him as he walked into the lounge. “Jesus Marco, where the fuck were you, we’ve all been worried sick?”

Marco poured himself a large Brandy. He spoke “You want one sweetie? Please Carlos, don’t spoil the moment, I’ve had a dalliance" Carlos started to laugh, Marco spoke again. “Listen ducky, sex isn’t just exclusive to you. I’ve met a man, an extremely, fit, handsome man, a Texan actually. Built like a fucking bull and he de flowered me, not once, not twice, but three times. OK, so I’m a little tender, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat, so sweetie, Fuck......You!”

He downed his brandy, clutched his shirt and tried to walk as normal as he could to his bedroom as Carlos sat there in disbelief.