On vacation with my father's friend

Mario was a friend of my father, one of those lifelong friends. Single, quite handsome and very well-groomed, he went to the gym, waxed, tanned all over. My father went to the gym with him, so he was in pretty good shape too. I was clueless; I still hadn't noticed the current of energy between them. They were both barely over forty and I was just over eighteen.

You could see from afar the friendship and the gestures of trust they had toward each other. Too intimate for just two friends. I was a fool, I didn't have a clue, and my mother even less. Despite my permanent horniness, and being drawn to any exposed patch of skin whether it belonged to a girl or a decently built guy, I would never have expected what was about to hit me.

Mario had a business trip abroad come up, and he could bring a companion. Since no girlfriends or partners were known for him, he thought about whom he could invite to go with him. On other occasions my father would have gladly offered. But now that he was going through a strange patch with my mother, he couldn't allow himself to. What he did was propose me as his substitute. Imagining what was almost certainly going to happen: that the two of us would end up fucking.

"Why doesn't Alex go with you? A trip will do him good: get on a plane and see another country."

I was delighted to visit a warm country in the middle of the cold winter. To get away from university classes for a few days. I thought that at the very least I could enjoy the sight of barely covered bodies under the tropical sun. Enjoy those days as a vacation. Of course, if a chance to hook up came up, I wouldn't waste it.

I brought my finest clothes and my smallest swimsuits. I was ready to have a good time. To show off my body, kept fit from afternoons of swimming and well waxed. To take advantage of that body by offering it to whoever wanted it.

The plane passengers and the people at the airport seemed to anticipate the heat at the destination and showed more of their bodies. They already wore finer, lighter clothing. A bit of cleavage or leg was starting to show, which did not help my calm.

Before takeoff I took a quick trip to the bathroom to change my jeans for some tiny shorts that, when I sat down, exposed my thighs almost to the groin. I left the sweater in the backpack I carried as hand luggage. I had seen on my phone the temperature at our destination. I also put on a loose tank top with a deep neckline at the chest and underarms, so I showed almost my whole body.

In those narrow seats we were already pressed together, even though we were in first class. Once on the plane he became tender and affectionate, which actually didn't bother me at all. Since I had admired his body on more than one occasion, when he came back with my father from the gym, from swimming or jogging. Feeling his hand confidently brushing my arm or resting on my shoulder or back didn't annoy me. Quite the op...