How I Became A Gay Toyboy Pt 1

His cock against mine, our chests pressed together, his hands caressing my body, his arms pressing me to him, his tongue pushing into my mouth.
*****
MONDAY
I woke up, my face filmed with sweat, and had a drink from the glass of flat, room temperature water on the bedside table. I could hear the sounds of people in the pool, having a morning swim; the rasp of crickets in the grass; the chirp of birds. Through the slats in the shutter I could tell that the sky was clear as ever.
Great, I thought gloomily. Another beautiful day.
Going on holiday by myself had seemed like a great idea. I’d be free and unencumbered and none of my friends would be around to move in on any interesting woman I encountered. And there were plenty of interesting women at the hotel, but most of them seemed to be either married, or partnered, or 18 and looking for horny male 18-year-olds, not a horny male 28-year-old. I was in good shape and not bad-looking and I kept myself fit, but unlike a lot of the men in the hotel I didn’t tan. I had dark hair and pale skin and after the first day, sunburn on my shoulders and back where I hadn’t been able to reach with the sun spray. My face got a good color but the rest of me remained obstinately pale.
So that first week, I consistently went to bed alone. It wasn’t for want of trying. I managed to chat to some cute women at the bar, a young, single Englishwoman who was on holiday with friends and a rather drunk Dutch girl who actually snogged me and suggested we date, and then went to the toilet and never came back. By the time I’d been in the hotel for a...