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What do you see in the ocean?

It's a question I never found an answer to myself. But, in truth, I didn't need one. The ocean being the great elusive added to the charm. Maybe if I knew, the charm would disappear?

"So... what do you like about the ocean that much? The calmness? I wanted to ask while we were at the coast, but I forgot."

"Huh, it'd be hard to encapsulate all of it. How it feels to walk along the beach, to sail across the waves, to sit at the coast at night and just watch the waves. I find new things in the world and myself each time I'm at the ocean. And some part of it is the nostalgia after that trip I've mentioned, too, I think."

"Where was it? I think the East Coast is close to Ohio so I'm guessing somewhere there, but I have no idea what place would be the closest."

I wouldn't say close, but I wasn't aiming for close. That was… well, it was an escape. I ran away from home. That in itself makes it rather special. I took the most essential things I owned and the camera from my mom, left my SIM card in my room, got into the car and drove away."

“You ran away from home? Why?"

“It's been so long ago that I don't really remember my reasons anymore."

I do. I remember them vaguely, but the feelings are intense even now. I remember the suffocating atmosphere there, something like wearing a shoe three sizes too small, with my paws still growing. And I remember coming out to my mom and her reaction. But it's not something I want to remember.

“And you headed for the ocean?"

“I didn't know where I was going. I chose to travel north and reached Lake Erie, but it felt way too close to stop. I rode along the coast and signs for Toronto started appearing, and I thought that it might be the destination. But it turned out that I didn't want a destination, and when I reached the end of the Lake, instead of turning towards Toronto, I continued eastward."

“And those photos… Do you have them somewhere?"

“I actually should have them somewhere on my phone. Give me a moment, I'll take a look… Yes, I have them saved. I keep most of my photos in a cloud, I never know when they might come in handy."

I slide my phone across the table, the gallery opened on my adolescent years, the photos I took during the trip easily identifiable amidst the photos of my hometown.

“Where's this one from? I love the dreamy look."

“That was the first photo I took on the trip. I slept in some motel in Pennsylvania and snapped a photo in the parking lot."

===

It was so weird to step out of the car in a different state and breathe in the dusty air there. It truly felt like the first full breath of my life. All my belongings I could've needed fitted inside the small backpack on my shoulder, and as I walked up the stairs to my room, I felt near weightless.

I remember the urge to download Grindr and look for someone in the area. My mind raced, coming up with possible scenarios for tonight. Maybe there would be someone staying in the same motel as me, even? Once the thought appeared in my mind, I couldn't get rid of it, it stayed inside me like a parasite gnawing at the base of my skull. It was something I always wanted to do, but now that I actually could, I encountered a voice inside me that wasn't too keen on the idea and hesitated. Something was stopping me and I didn't know what.

I was an adult but barely. I just turned eighteen a few months ago. It felt like my life was only starting at that moment, and I was eager to start, but also scared of the world. My curiosity was stronger than anxiety, though. That's how I found myself on the road and that's how the app found its way to my phone through the nearby 4G antenna.

The mattress creaked under me in protest, even though I was quite a bit lighter back then. The paper lined walls were sticky and stained with cigarette smoke. It was a cheap motel and also the best I could afford. My home for the night. I wasn't focusing on it, though. The stirring I felt in my loins was something completely new, unlike any kind of arousal I felt ever before, and demanded some kind of means of release.

The app displayed a grid of faces and placeholders. I stared at it intensely until my vision narrowed, blood harsh in my ears. I turned off the screen and hid the phone between my legs as if I was doing something wrong. I felt like the door could open any moment and someone could catch me. I had to remind myself that I'm by myself in a motel, far away from home, completely alone, and I wasn't doing anything wrong.

I went to the window, opened it and lit up a cigarette from a pack I bought that morning before leaving. Terrible idea. The whole rest of the pack ended up in the trash and I stood at the door, my heart racing.

Why was it so hard for me?

I finally sat down on the bed again and unlocked the phone. My profile was still empty, so first I worked on that. I found a suitable photo - me wearing my tank top, leaning on the table in a diner at Lake Eerie. It was from before my birthday, but thankfully I always looked much older than I was, especially after I started putting on some muscle, and I didn't have any better ones from later. The context felt meaningful too - my dad took me to that diner to celebrate after a match our football team won, and he took the photo as well. It was awkward, being there with him. We didn't have much to say to each other. It seemed like he felt that it was his fatherly duty to take me somewhere, but didn't have any ideas what to do with me. The food was nothing special but the lake was nice, at least. Not as nice as the ocean, but there was something calming in its slow rolling waves and the way it seemed to absorb all other sounds.

Now I stared at the empty bio field with zero idea what to put there. I didn't want to say anything about myself. In the end I only wrote

in the area for the night

and left age empty. Then I went back to the grid of profiles. Many of them didn't have photos, but even these had names attached that made my imagination kick into high gear.

I clicked on the first profile. The distance indicator shown <0.1 mile, so he must've been in the same motel. A gruff face of a bull looked at me from the photo, framed by two horns. Another photo shows him from the waist up standing in the shower, arms raised, wet fur clinging to his bulky frame. From his face I'd guess he was in his forties. All his profile said was:

Trucker. Looking for fun. No photo=no answer

He wasn't what I'd imagined as my type, but looking at his profile, I felt my face getting hot. The near ultimate taboo of hooking up with someone twice my age. The fantasy of night in the paws of a rough trucker. Was it my fantasy? It didn't seem to matter at that moment. The bulk of a man, as manly as it gets. He had what my mind kept telling me I lacked. I was walking in the dark, looking for directions, but it could've been the experience I was searching for when I left home this afternoon.

Fingers trembling, I wrote him a message and clicked send before I could start doubting whether it was a good idea. I glanced at my backpack. In the side pocket where I hid the pack of cigarettes, I had a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms.

“Handsome face. Staying here for the night?"

I wanted to put the phone down and inspect the room, but the response came almost immediately.

“Hey cutie" and then another, longer message, “Yes. Firs Motel? Looking for a dick tonight?"

He unlocked his photos. I clicked on the first - him lying on a bed, all naked, holding his tool in a meaty paw, smirking for the camera.

I locked the screen and dropped the phone onto the bed, my cheeks burning. In truth, I didn't expect him to respond at all. I wasn't ready for a response this soon, that's for sure. I didn't know what to do. What was I even doing? Was I ready to have my first time in a seedy motel with some trucker I didn't know, who would likely treat me as a hole to fuck or a rug to grind against? Part of me said yes, of course, that's exactly what I wanted. But the rest of me was gripped in an overwhelming panic. I didn't dare to unlock my phone again. I felt like running. That's how I always dealt with stress - sprung into a run.

Opting to leave the shoes here, I left the room bare-pawed and walked onto the parking lot in front of the motel. It was getting dark already. A few star stars glimmered dimly in the indigo sky. The air was cold, wind blowing from the direction of the lake. It was just what I needed. The road wasn't busy and the patch of dirt on the side of it was wide. I turned away from the lake and started running.

Half an hour later I stopped, panting. The street was ending, joining a busier one in a wide intersection, turning into a road. No point in continuing forward. I had to go back anyway. It was getting darker by the minute and I had nothing reflective on me. I didn't want to die out there. At least I got the stress out of my system and my head felt mostly clear.

There was a diner in the nearest town that I ran past. I didn't feel any hunger, but I knew I had to eat something anyway or I'd collapse the next day. I didn't want to come back to the motel yet anyway. I went back the same way, looking for the diner, and there it was - a steel construction glued to another building at a desolate intersection, shiny and futuristic, a warm glow pouring onto the street from wide windows. The smell of the food hit me like a brick wall when I entered. I had to lean on the doorframe, dizzy. Only then I realized how desperately I needed food. I sat down at one of the tables and grabbed the menu.

There was just the usual diner fare plus some fish, so I decided to go with a fishburger with fries. The best price to nutrition value and calories ratio. A waiter came to take my order after a moment. An otter in his twenties. Maybe it was a summer job for him while he was staying in his hometown, that was my guess. He took my order and as I watched him walk away to the kitchen, a bull sitting at the counter turned towards me.

The same bull from Grindr.

Nostrils flared, eyes open wide, I stared at him and he stared at me. He was as big as the photos suggested, with a gut peeking from under the t-shirt that I didn't expect. He seemed surprised, his mouth ajar as if he wanted to say something but forgot what.

The next few seconds seemed to stretch into hours. I stood up slowly, grabbed my phone from the table and walked towards the door. As I held the handle and opened the door, I turned to the inside of the diner again. The bull slowly raised his paw, eyes locked with mine, while the waiter shouted to me from the kitchen.

“Hey! Wait!"

I stepped outside and felt the rough concrete pavement below my pawpads, and I sprung into a run.

Back in my room, I leaned back on the bed and unzipped my pants, my own musk hitting my nose, potent after a day spent in a car and all the pent up urges. I grabbed my member, imagining holding the bull's cock instead. Having him here with me, draped over me, his paw on my chest, pressing me into the bed. My paws running all over his body. He wasn't even he'd lean in to me, his paw cupping my cheek, and his broad tongue would invade my maw… What a mixture of lust, disgust, excitement, fear, pain and pleasure, all flashing like a blinding light before my eyes. Bright, so bright. A radiance from beyond. I painted my torso white in seconds, panting and lightheaded.

Then shame.

He had been within my paw's reach. And I had been too much of a coward to act. Shame.

This went against what I was brought up with. I came here to free myself from my shackles and I still couldn't act against my upbringing. Shame.

Who am I, even? I'm queer, but not queer enough to have the guts to actually do something with a man. Shame.

I uninstalled the app without opening it again. Then I put on American Football, tossed the phone aside and it landed on the bed with a soft thud. A deep bassline blared from the speaker. Suddenly, with no warning, a loneliness bore down on me, so intense that it threatened to crush me under its weight. Where before I saw blinding light, now there was a black hole, swallowing everything, expanding outwards.

I was completely alone here. Alone in this whole world. Hungry, away from home, away from everyone I knew. Free for the first time in my life and without any ideas what to do with this freedom. The moon filled the room with a silvery glow and I looked at it through the window, yellowed curtains pulled aside - the silent witness of my turmoil. I might as well have been on its surface with how alien and otherworldly the motel room felt. Retreating into myself, I closed my eyes and fell asleep. Somewhere beyond the horizon of my consciousness, the singer crooned, backed by jazzy drums and labyrinthine riffs, singing the words of my youth.