Did you catch Monday's blog featuring Mark's story, The Yacht Club, from last year's Secret Author contest? There will be another one of those coming up later this year, so I hope you will both enjoy this story (if you missed it) and the upcoming event this summer. Make sure you check out this excerpt and the story if you want to remember that fun or read it now! As always, like, comment, and review! 

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You are Mr. Falstaff?” a guy dressed like an officer asked.

“I am,” Roger answered.

“Please follow me. The ship is getting ready to depart,” he said. Roger paused to give me one last kiss, then he walked off the ship.

“I hope everything is alright?” Ramon asked as he led me back to the elevator.

“His son is unexpectedly in a lacrosse tournament, and he didn’t want to miss it,” I said.

“I am sure you will still enjoy your time aboard without him,” he said.

“I’m sure I will,” I said, smiling at him. I got back to the cabin and started to unpack. Things had inevitably gotten wrinkled, so I put them aside and resolved to have them ironed. I did that quickly, just in time to hear the ship’s horn sound. I went out onto the balcony to watch as this massive ship began to power its way into the harbor. I smiled at the view of this city that I loved so much, with the Statue of Liberty and the Manhattan skyline offering truly unique vistas.

I walked out of my cabin, exited the Yacht Club, and walked over to the opposite side to watch the ship push away. My phone rang and I saw it was Roger. “I see you on the top deck. Wave at me!” I waved.

“I’ll miss you,” I said. “I’ll see you when I get back.” He said goodbye then we ended the call, while I smiled. Roger was a good boyfriend. At 42, he was still young and virile enough to satisfy my horny 24-year-old libido; and even when he wasn’t horny, he always took care of me. That man knew how to suck a dick. I heard the announcement for the mandatory lifeboat drill, so I went back to my cabin to find Ramon waiting for me.

“You are in the YC, so you go first,” he said, and guided me to the stairs. I thought it was funny that he abbreviated Yacht Club as YC, but he got nervous until I smiled at him. It seemed that MSC didn’t want the staff to shorten the name of the super-prestigious Yacht Club.

“Are you always happy?” I heard Jason say from behind me. I slowed down so we could walk together.

“Hell no,” I said. “I was at a club on Friday night and some musclehead was trying to hit on me. 

 

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