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getting turned on in a major way, despite my injury. I hoped
the pool-man wouldn't notice.
No, I hoped he would.
Progress was at a snail's pace, but we eventually made it
to my room. I passed him my key, and he unlocked the door.
He helped me to the bed, and I plunked myself down heavily
with a moan. He seemed to focus for a moment on my
swimsuit. Although his swimming shorts were baggy, I
noticed a slight swelling there as well. Not so slight.
"You need someone for dat, Mister," he said.
I couldn't form any words in reply.
"It still hurt?" he continued.
"Oh, right. Yeah, big time. Any house doctors or a masseur
in the hotel?"
"Na yet, na yet."
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"Right. They're under construction like the rest of the
place, I suppose."
He laughed. I laughed. Then there was that awkward bit,
after the laughter died down, and neither of us was sure what
should be said or done next. A thank you and goodbye? A
huge tip? Speaking of which, both our dicks refused to die
down like our laughter.
He cleared his throat. "I can massage, mon, if yuh still in
pain."
"Oh. I ... yeah, if you don't mind. I mean, I can pay you
something."
A stern expression returned. "Na, mon, dat not why I
offer."
I flushed and felt ashamed. My erection shriveled. I
expected him to leave. But he didn't. I ventured, "My name is
Roger."
There was an uneasy pause, then, "I am Laz."
"Laz. What an interesting name. Is it short for "
"Yah, mon. Lazarus. Mi mama gave birth, and I wouldn't
breathe. Took the doctors a while a get mi goin'."
"Well, Laz, I'd be grateful if you could help me get going
again. It's my hamstring."
"Cool. Yuh have to flip onto yuh belly, mon."
I blinked a few times, then slowly turned over.
"And spread dem legs a bit."
There was a long pause. I could hear him breathing.
Shallow and labored breaths. Or was that me? I nearly leapt
to the ceiling upon feeling his long fingers press against my
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inner thigh. He began to gently rub. I let out a low moan. He
stopped.
"Is it di pain?"
"No. Yes. I mean ... keep going. You have a great touch."
Laz pressed and prodded, dug deep. The soothing of the
pain was in direct proportion to the re-growth of my erection.
I pushed it against the mattress. Laz eased off and began to
massage the entire area in small circular motions, moving
slowly upwards. I moaned again a sensual, rumbling thing
from deep in my throat.
He suddenly withdrew his hand. "No, don't stop!" I said
way too loudly.
A large hand cupped the left cheek of my ass. I stopped
breathing. "You like dis, Roger?"
I could barely get the words out. "I ... do."
"Good."
"Do you?"
His response was using both his hands to stroke my butt.
He allowed me to turn over. My Speedo was stretched almost
to bursting. The most amazing smile spread across his
handsome face. I looked into his eyes.
"I asked you a question," I said.
He took my hand and placed it against his crotch. I
became afraid; I wasn't sure why. Exploring further, I knew
why. Laz pulled down his bathing suit, and it dropped to the
floor. As did my jaw. All sorts of clichés ran through my
head mostly comparisons to endowed animals of some kind
or another. I forced my eyes away from the obvious and
scanned the rest of his body. Unlike most men down there,
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his chest, arms and legs had a matting of hair. This just
emphasized his otherness and my attraction.
But after the moment's appraisal, my attention was driven
back to his cock. How could it not? I was entranced by the
slow-motion dance of his hardening dick. The dark hood of his
long foreskin very slowly rolled back as the great plum head
crept out. Its slit seeped pre-come. A droplet fell onto my
foot. I found myself licking my lips it does happen!
Laz chuckled, a low purr from the back of his throat. "Yuh
thirst, Roj?"
I nodded.
He slipped further into his native patois. "Come yah, 'n kiss
di head, mon."
I leaned forward, protruded my lips. My eyes crossed, so
focused was I on the dark head, slick with his pre-come. He
tapped it against my mouth, wetting me with his ooze. My lips
parted and I
There was a rapping at the door.
Nooo! Had I said that out loud?
Laz tugged up his bathing suit and dove, of course, into
the closet. Another rapping. I called out. "Coming!" If only. I
limped into the bathroom and threw on a bathrobe to open
the door. It was the bellman.
"Excuse me, sir. I just wanted to extend the hotel's
apologies for the state of things here." He strained his neck
about. His eyes shifted this way and that beyond me.
Go away, I thought, but just said, "Well, it's not what I had
expected, or paid for."
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"Of course. The pool should be open in a couple of days. In
the meantime, perhaps one of our staff could escort you to
the beach. The pool-boy might be willing." Again, this way
and that. Were there any telltale bits about the room?
"Thank you," I replied, "I'll keep that in mind."
He left, and I locked the door. Way to kill the mood. Laz
emerged from the closet with a heavy sigh. I nodded. "I
know." Wasn't going to happen. I peered out the peephole
into the hallway. All clear. He edged towards the door.
"Like 'im say, I could show yuh di way to di beach, sir."
I couldn't let the opportunity slip by. "When?"
He looked deep into my eyes. "Ten."
"At night?"
His turn to nod. "In di dark."
* * * *
We met that night, a block from the hotel. A knapsack
hung off of one of his brawny shoulders. We walked in silence
as he escorted me to the beach. I yearned to take his hand,
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