Eros Hotel
Part 1
It was very hot. Michael had just returned to his room. He had taken his group of adult creative writing students to the beach. They'd swum, of course, but also discussed how they felt in the merciless Greek sun, how to describe the colours they saw in the clear sea, and how to approach their next essay, entitled "The Waves.
Michael had undressed. His clothes had been soaked with perspiration. He had gone to bed, slept for about twenty minutes and woken up refreshed. He got up, walked across the room and stood in front of the large window that led to the balcony.
The late afternoon sun was still beating down pretty hard. The heat, though overwhelming, rather excited him. He loved how it felt, enveloping him like a robe. He could still feel the sweat still trickling down his back. It tickled the crack in his ass.
Michael stood in front of the window, naked, as he most loved to be. He was not ashamed of his body. It was far from the much-vaunted "perfection" of sports, films and advertisements. But he knew many people still found him attractive, and those who didn't held no interest for him.
Applicants for his courses, which he held in Greece each summer, were mostly undergraduates, though some were older. He reflected on the night he had spent the previous weekend with some of the students. A memorable night, a night of attraction, fun, laughter and intimacy. An erotic night.
His thoughts turned to Nicole, the beautiful transgender girl who was beginning to show promise in her writing, but also in erotic games; David, the handsome athlete with the muscular body and the firm buttocks, a great admirer of the god Hermes, and who he had initiated into the pleasures of sex with another man; Gabrielle, the author in the making with a very personal style, large eyes and round, proud breasts; and Diane, all voluptuous curves, with her eager mouth, mischievous and sexy, who knew how to sculpt an erotic tale.
Michael's sex is already thirsting for more such games, if only there are takers. His thoughts also turn to another, GaΓ«lle, whom he doesn't know yet, but who, judging from the essays she's submitted so far and her exchanges during class, has a sense of humour and a vivid imagination. She seems to have more life experience than some of the others and he finds her outgoing, funny, and also sexy. He would like to get to know her better. It's clear that she has a gift with language; he would like to see if she also has the gift of tongues.
Suddenly Michael's eyes are drawn to a fleeting movement in one of the windows opposite. The rooms in these two wings of the hotel are shaded by large, beautiful eucalyptus trees. But in the depths of the room opposite, silhouetted against the tall mirror on the wall, he sees a man and a woman dancing.
Both are naked, like him, she with lush red hair that covers her shoulders, forming a voluptuous frame for her small peach-shaped breasts; he with close-cropped hair, a smooth chest with firm nipples, the abs and legs of an athlete and a penis surrounded by thick black hair.
Their bodies seem to be oiled, they shine so in the reflected light. They dance slowly, sensually, sometimes body to body, sometimes apart, in a kind of tango, that most erotic of dances, their movements rhythmic, languorous, peaceful but with an intensity and mutual attraction that is almost palpable. They gaze into each other's eyes, anticipating each other's wishes and intentions. It is beautiful, evocative.