I was startled out of my light doze when the boy slipped into the hot tub across from me. He was young – I couldn't be sure of his exact age in the twilight, but he couldn't have been more than twenty; his body was slim and graceful, with a little hint of the awkwardness of youth in his movements. In many ways he was the opposite of my own wife back in Indiana – slender, with narrow hips and chest, and a pixie-ish face. I wouldn't go so far as to call him girlish – his broad shoulders and narrow hips were certainly man enough.
I found his youth strangely attractive. While I'm fit for a man in my fifties, I envy and appreciate the energy that the young seemed to have endless supplies of. There was a sparkle in this boy's eyes, and his tanned flesh seemed to almost glow in the moonlight.
"Hello." I greeted him slowly, with a warm smile. Young enough to be my son or not, a handsome lad's company is always welcome, particularly when Marlene wasn't around to catch me leering at him. I don't know if my wife knew for certain that I was into men, but she had certainly accused me of lusting after girls often enough.
"Hi," he replied, somewhat shyly. That was one thing that I don't miss from my own youth – the sort of shy awkwardness around new people. Eventually I'd gotten over it – the best thing about getting older has been stopping giving a fuck about what other people might think of you. While my thirty-year-old self might have balked at striking up a random conversation with a cute boy, at fifty I have no such compunctions.
"Name's Henry. Henry Filke," I introduced myself. I glanced around – we were alone on the hotel patio, and there were two other hot tubs, along with the pool. That he'd chosen to join me in mine was a sign that he was looking for some company, and presumably some conversation. Maybe a bit more, and the thought emboldened me. "In town for a trade show."