This week I'm thrilled to have Pablo Michaels promoting his established-published book, Catnip, Rosemary, Rage and Time, available in print at Amazon, as well as in Kindle format.
Glenn Talbot and Billie Blake take a cruise to Alaska from San Francisco and back. Upon departure on the Sun Deck while enjoying cocktails, the server has given them an invitation to a private party after midnight in the Greek Lounge. Their sexy waiter also gives them another invitation at dinner. However Billie feels he is being stalked by a beautiful woman wearing diamonds who is accompanied by a handsome man. There walking down the hallway after midnight to search for the Greek Lounge.
As the two couple met, Billie faked an awkward smile.
Glenn said, “Hello.”
The good looking man with the goatee and mustache reciprocated with, “Good evening.”
The woman stared intently at Billie, until they passed.
Further down the hallway, Billie bemoaned, “Gees, I wish she’d stop staring at me. Something is strange about her.”
“I’m beginning to believe a little bit of what you’re saying,” Glenn agreed. “But just let it go. Let’s find this Greek Lounge.”
As they walked Billie whispered, “Maybe this is some kind of joke.”
Glenn opened his mouth to agree, when they spotted an open gate to their right, just below an olive branch. A nude, male statue adorned with only a fig leaf in the groin area, stood like a god from a gay Garden of Eden. A gorgeous, buffed hunk of a real man draped in a toga held the gate open for their entry into the Greek Lounge. He inspected their invitations for the night and allowed them to enter.
“Something’s going to happen here,” Billie whispered secretly.
“Oh, just be quiet.”
When they entered the lounge, Billie stopped to witness a very sensuous event occurring. Corinthian columns surrounded a circular dance floor, where a surprisingly large group of men danced wildly to disco music, wearing nothing except revealing white Jockey shorts or skimpy togas.
Glenn attempted to make his voice heard above the loud music by shouting in his ear, “Look at those bulges!”
Billie put his hand over his mouth. “Not so loud.”
“What are we going to do?” Glenn asked.
“I wasn’t expecting to see a Jockey short party on this cruise, maybe with blue-haired women but not with all these young bods.”
They approached what appeared to be the God of Reception. He, too, was handsome. An olive branch adorned his head of wavy, brown hair. A skimpy toga revealed a chiseled chest and strong muscular legs. This deity that welcomed visitors to the Greek Lounge addressed both of them, “Hi, I’m Jason. I am here to make your evening with the gods of Olympus a sensuous filled night. Register your room number at the gate to the changing room for anything you may need for playing. You may wear Jockey shorts or complimentary togas. Put your clothes in garment bags. Have a sex-enthralling night in the Greek Lounge with all the Friends of Dorothy. Have fun but play safe.”
Glenn looked at Billie pensively. His partner returned the same look. Something new and different was about to happen.
Glenn hesitantly commented, “I don’t know about this.”
“I’m wearing Jockey shorts, not white, but they’ll do.”
Glenn shook his head and said, “I might look relatively good in a jock strap, but not with the looks of all these gorgeous men. We’re wearing togas. I don’t want you parading around in your Jockey shorts with that bulge between your legs among all these studs.”
They approached the clothes check booth and requested togas. “Thank you.” Billie smiled. The man who gave them their togas was unbelievingly a man beyond anyone’s dream.
“I don’t think I can contain myself, if there are anymore guys like him,” Glenn observed.
“You mean undressed. I don’t know how I’m going to include this in my travelogue.” Billie led the way into the changing room, which was a tent. As they entered the small canopy, small columns about three feet high with torches on top lit the space.