Palm Springs Weekend

If you are under age, or live in an area where reading tales of male sex is illegal, or if you're not into this, please leave. Otherwise, I hope you have some fun with this story. Some of the names have been changed, some have not. This took place in a time when all sex was safe so today's precautions were not taken. Please respect yourself and others enough to always play safe. Comments are appreciated.

Life is so unpredictable. You just never know what's around the corner. As you might guess from my name, I'm from New Jersey. Born, raised, educated and lived my whole life here. While I love it here, I also love to travel, to see other parts of the country and the world, and some of my more memorable sexual adventures have taken place while away from home. Usually, it's the feeling of anonymity and freedom, that no one knows you and you can be as wild and adventurous as you want, though that wasn't really the case with my adventure in Palm Springs.

When we were in our late 20s, my best friend Eric moved to Los Angeles. We'd been buddies (sisters, he called it) for over 5 years, hanging out together, bar hopping in the Village, helping each other through all of our failed relationships. Best friends, buddies, nothing sexual, but lots of love. A year or so after he moved, I found myself unemployed and decided to go visit Eric in LA. I ended up staying over a month and got to know the city fairly well. Eric lived in Silver Lake. One night, after I'd been there about a week, we were hanging out in a small gay bar in his neighborhood. We were sitting at the bar and I looked across the room at the jukebox. The guy at the jukebox looked familiar-curly dark hair, thick mustache. I finally realized he reminded me of Carl, my college roommate Doug's lover. Carl and Doug lived about 5 miles from me back home, though our paths rarely crossed. I spun around on the barstool to tell Eric about the resemblance when I came face to face with Doug, sitting on the stool next to me.

Talk about coincidences. Doug and Carl were on vacation visiting a friend of theirs who had recently moved out to LA from New Jersey. We spent the rest of the evening hanging out, catching up and just generally having a warm, friendly evening. They mentioned that they were spending the weekend at a gay resort in Palm Springs and suggested that Eric and I join them.

The next day, Eric called the resort and made reservations and Friday afternoon, we headed out into the desert. The resort kind of reminded me of a Holiday Inn, a U-shaped two storied motel building with a high fence and the office in front, giving the courtyard total privacy. All of the rooms faced the courtyard, which contained a large swimming pool, a Jacuzzi that held 6 and a large patio and garden. Back behind a couple of palms, near the hot tub was a small booth-like structure that turned out to be a steam room. About half the lounge chairs around the pool were occupied, and most of the guys in them were naked. Doug, Carl and their friend Bill were already there, lying in adjoining chairs, wearing swimsuits. Eric and I quickly dumped our bags in our room and changed into swimsuits. As soon as we got out by the pool, however, Eric, being Eric, stripped off his suit, threw it on a chair and began chatting with the others. Eric and I were opposites in many ways, he was not least bit modest and I was incredibly shy. But whenever I was around him, he sort of rubbed off on me, so after a minute or two, I held my breath, pulled off my swimsuit and lay down naked in a chair by my friends. It became contagious and soon all five of us were lying there naked, casually chatting as if we were at a church social. I'll have to admit that I had a hard time keeping my eyes off Doug. Though we'd been best friends and roommates two years in college, we were both very much in the closet back then and were hiding, even from each other. And, because he and Carl were very together, I knew there was nothing ever going to happen with Doug, but I still couldn't help taking in his naked beauty.

I was beginning to wonder how long I could lie there naked watching Doug naked before I got hard, when two others joined our little group. They introduced themselves as George and Gary and asked if they could use the last two empty chairs in our little grouping. George was older (probably 40, but that was older to us). Gary was early to mid 20s and just about the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was about 6', 175 lbs., in amazing physical shape, muscular without overdoing it, light brown hair, and beautiful blue eyes. George was a professional photographer and Gary was his model, and they were a couple. George immediately stripped and lay down naked in his chair. Gary took off his robe, leaving him in tiny blue Speedo's, with a bulge I couldn't believe. He lay down in his chair and we all started talking, getting to know each other. We spent the afternoon talking, swimming and playing in the pool, all of us naked except Gary.

Later, I thought of it as a kind of gay Murphy's law. Murphy's law says, "If anything can go wrong, it will go wrong." My gay version is more like, "If there is one person you do not want to see naked at a clothing optional event, he will be the first to strip. If there is one person you do want to see naked, he will never strip."

That evening, after we'd all been out to dinner, Doug, Carl, Bill, Eric and I were soaking naked in the spa, sipping wine and getting a little buzzed. George and Gary had gone back to their room after eating. It was after dark when I saw Gary leave their room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He walked down the sidewalk, close to the building, with some bushes and trees between him and us. As soon as I saw him go into the tiny steam room, I made up my mind and went for it. I tried to be subtle and discreet, not knowing if any of the others had seen him. I eased my naked body out of the hot, bubbling spa and said, "I think I'll try a little steam." As I reached the door to the steam room, Eric's one word reply reached me across the patio, "Slut."

I went into the small room and just stood there a second to adjust to all the steam. The room couldn't have been more than 4 feet square, with a bench seat along one side. Gary was sitting on the bench with his towel open, his huge dick half hard. He stood up, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me. I reached down to grab his enormous tool, and as I squeezed it, it became rock hard. I dropped to my knees to worship it. I know lots of people talk about beer cans, but that is exactly how big around it was. When I put my hand around it, my fingers didn't come within a half in of touching. And the length; it had to be 10 to 12 inches, easily the biggest dick I had ever seen. I opened my mouth as wide as I could and only succeeded in getting the head in my mouth. I sucked on the head, running my tongue around the edges, trying without success to force more of it into my mouth and throat, all the while stroking its length. After a couple of minutes of sucking on the world's best and possibly biggest lollipop, Gary pulled me up to my feet and again began kissing me, hungrily, passionately, as if he were trying to devour me. And then he dropped to his knees, kissed the throbbing head of my hard six inches and took it in his mouth. As he sucked me, he looked up at me, keeping eye contact. I was out of my mind. There he was a professional model with the most beautiful face, an incredible masculine body and the biggest dick I had ever seen or imagined. And he was on his knees in front of me, sucking me. Doing an amazing job of it and obviously enjoying it. It didn't take long before I started shooting my hot cum into his mouth and he sucked down every drop. When I finished, he stood up and kissed me again, with the taste of my cum still in his mouth. I asked how I could return the pleasure, and he just smiled, saying he had had exactly what he wanted. He opened the door, patted me on the butt and said "Thank you."

Apparently, Eric had been the only one of our group who had noticed Gary go into the steam room ahead of me. The others were still just talking about anything and everything. As I eased back into the bubbling water, Eric pulled himself out. He again whispered, "Slut" in my ear as I whispered, "Slut" in his as he headed toward the steam room. After a while, the others headed to their rooms, leaving me alone in the spa with a bottle of wine and a very hot memory. And some interesting sounds coming from the steam room. Eventually, Gary left the room, with his towel wrapped once again around his waist. He looked over at me in the hot tub, smiled and blew me a kiss. A minute later, Eric also emerged from the little booth, walking rather awkwardly. He gently eased his body down into the swirling waters, but it took a few tries before he was able to comfortably sit. I looked at him and said, "You didn't?" He just smiled and said, "They don't call me the Holland Tunnel for nothing."

When Eric and I got up and out to the pool the next day, we discovered George and Gary had checked out and were gone. Gary was one of the few guys Eric and I shared. We usually had different taste in men, which probably helped our friendship endure. It's funny, at the time, being impressed with the glamour of LA and Hollywood, I always assumed Gary was a fashion model. Looking back, with his beauty, body and incredible endowment, its every bit as likely that he was a porn model. But whichever, he was beautiful, and every bit as beautiful inside as out.

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