It had been a hard year for Shaun. He had lost his lover of eight years to a younger slut with a tighter butt than his, and was forced to sell his half share in the travel agency he and his ex started in the back room of their flea ridden apartment.
The bright side, if there really was one, was that Shaun had bought himself a new lock up and go apartment, and for the first time in eight years, was able to focus on something other than growing their fledgling business. Shaun was the financial guru of the company, and never got to travel much.
Shaun was a conservative gay guy, who had never cruised ever in his life. His ex-lover was his first lover after leaving school, and he had never had sex with any other person ever before that. Shaun saw himself as a reasonably cute guy, but after several unsuccessful jaunts to the local gay night-clubs, he was starting to wonder if he would ever have sex again.
On a cold wintry day, Shaun decided that a trip abroad was in order. He needed to get away from all the memories and all the shared friends now allying themselves between him and his ex. Plans were made, passports were stamped and plains and trains caught all over the world to get Shaun to his first destination. Gay Paris.
This was Shauns city of choice, his base for his extended trip throughout Europe. He had planned to travel mainly by rail, with warm memories from a cold TV of train travel on the Orient Express, sipping champagne, smoking cigars and solving endless murders.
His train was booked for the following day, and would take him from Paris to Vienna on an overnight train. He thinned his luggage and managed with great effort to fit everything into a single suitcase and a back pack. That night he fantasised about his first train journey on the Orient Express.
Deeply immersed in his fantasy, was his favourite Frenchman who had been with him to Tahiti, Mt. Everest, Hong Kong, The Maldives and the S&M club down the road from his lock up and g... Læs hele novellen
