Pig in Palm Springs - Part 5 - Gay Encounters, Urination
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This is part 5 of many of this story.
This series is based on true events (a culmination of multiple trips) and fictional fantasies. It will depict many different fetish themes over the subsequent chapters. If you are not interested in m/m kinky gay sex, this is not for you. If you are, get ready!
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At exactly 5:07 PM I pull up to the massive iron privacy gate my GPS has led me to. I punch in the code I've memorized out of sheer, eager excitement and watch the panel slide open, revealing a beautiful white modern structure that is all mine for the next few days. I am giddy... a dumb, toothy smile plastered on my cum crusted face. The house looks even better than it did in the pictures. I park my jeep under the overhang, switch it off, and bound towards the front door, eager to check out my new digs. The cold air hits me as the large metal and glass door swings open. I kick my sneakers off and start peeling my damp socks from my sweaty soles before the door even closes behind me. My sweaty feet add another more subtle smell to the rest of the stench radiating off of me, mixing perfectly against the fresh scent of bergamot and lemongrass in the house. I walk down the hallway leaving sweaty footprints on the cool tiled floor. The house is quintessential Palm Springs. A ranch-style home, recently renovated with tall ceilings, and large windows; open and airy with the main focus of the home, including two of the four bedrooms, on the view out back. The entire wall was made up almost only of windows and doors. The desert mountains stand tall just past the tall fence bordering the well-manicured, completely private, large backyard. The AC feels wonderful against my sun-warmed skin. I walk around curious, taking in the architecture, the view, the artwork, and the furniture, feeling my soul fill with joy and my cock fill with blood. I peel off my dirty tank and toss it on a chair catching the strong odor from my hairy pits. Walking into the kitchen I see a fruit plate laid out next to an ice bucket with an envelope propped against it. I empty my pockets of my keys, phone, wallet, smokes, lighter, and rank trucker briefs, throwing everything in a pile on the counter. Grabbing the envelope to read the note inside; "Dear Christian, Welcome to Palm Springs! I hope you had a pleasant journey. The indoor and outdoor fridges are stocked to your specifications. I am grateful you chose my humble little home for your stay. If there is anything, anything, you may need while in town, please let me know. Best, Peter" "Good ole Peter," I say out loud to no one. I smile at the note, thinking about our correspondence over the past months while I pop a few crisp grapes in my mouth and grab the bottle of chilled tequila. A loud clunk echoes through the empty house as the ice cubes drop into the short glass waiting for me. I pour the clear liquid more than halfway and twist a lemon slice. Giving it a swirl before taking a long-awaited sip. "Ahhh" escapes my lips. I place the drink down and undo my swampy shorts, letting them drop to the floor. Stepping out of them as I walk further into the kitchen. I open the oversized stainless steel fridge. It's stocked to the brim with all sorts of drinks and prepared and unprepared foods. I definitely went overboard but I was just so damn excited and the last thing I wanted to deal with was running errands, grocery shopping, liquor runs, etc when all that time could be better spent naked, with or without company. I take another sip of my drink so happy Peter was so accommodating and took care of everything. I go back to the counter where the stank pair of briefs lay on top of my belongings, I can't resist picking them up for a quick deep inhale of the trucker's sexy stink. It's heady and I can't resist grabbing my jock-covered bulge. I toss the briefs to the side, there will be plenty of time for that later, grab my phone, a smoke from the pack, and a lighter. I make my way to one of the many sets of sliding glass doors. The heat hits me again as I slide the heavy glass to the side. August is not for the faint of heart here in the desert. It must be at least 96 degrees still well after 5 pm. I take a deep inhale, getting a strong whiff of all the masculine musk radiating from my warm body. I light my cig and take a walk around the backyard. I have been studying every corner, plant, and feature through pictures online for so many months. As much as Peter and my connection influenced me to choose his house to be my pigpen, it was the backyard that was the real draw. The giant freshwater pool with deep turquoise tiles was the focal point. A freshwater pool was key. I love to swim, which is kind of in opposition to the way I love to smell as well as how I like others to smell. Chlorine can be so strong that it overpowers body odor... saltwater pools are better, but freshwater pools, the ones using copper? Or was it oxygen? Either way, whatever it used to keep clean, didn't affect the scent. Jumping in this pool, soaking in the hot tub, or taking a cold plunge would have no more effect on my odor than standing in a shower for a quick rinse with no soap. Whether it was the indoor or outdoor shower. In addition to this magnificent pool, this backyard really had everything I could imagine wanting or needing for a slutcation. Cabanas for shade, hammocks for napping, tall palm trees, lounge chairs, dining tables, two outdoor fridges, a grill pit, fire pit, private corners, speakers, a wet bar, multiple fountains (which help muffle sounds of passion), beautiful lush landscaping... plenty of interesting places to have all kinds of freaky weird sex with all the privacy needed. I walk to the pool and sit my bare hairy ass down on the warm concrete, dunking my legs into the cool water. I put my cig out in the conveniently placed ashtray and make a note of how attentive and accommodating Peter has been. I think about the potential party he encouraged me to have and feel my cock fighting for freedom against the ripe, damp jock I'm still wearing. I open my phone and swipe open Sniffies, activating my profile. Pig in Palm Springs Total vers switch pig in town for a few days. Looking to get into sweaty, raunchy fun. Piss, pits, musk, jocks, cum, bareback, rimming, sniffing, foot play, gear, etc. Looking to get covered in as many loads and as much piss as I can while I'm here. Send me a scenario and let's play pigs. Now the profile is live I tap another button and activate "currently hosting." I hop up, grab toss back my drink and walk around the side of the house to get to the driveway. When I push the side gate open I freeze, remembering I'm practically naked before realizing, the entire property is private. I pop open the trunk, toss the two large heavy duffles over my shoulder and wheel the large suitcase into the house, hairy ass fully exposed. The layout of the house is so familiar from my online stalking excitement. I walk towards the left, dropping one duffle at the door, I walk past the open, sunken living room, past the kitchen to the other bedroom doorway. This was the true master suite. I smile widely when I walk in, everything is as Peter promised. The California king was stripped down to nothing more than a rubber-fitted sheet. I could see all the restraints dangling off the bed at every possible angle, as well as the large tufted headboard. The chaise lounge was also covered in a rubber sheet, while the armchair from all the online staged photos had been replaced with a canopy-style sex sling, situated right in front of the giant glass doors that open to the back patio. I walk past all of it toward the enormous bathroom, doing my best to ignore the painful boner now straining in my jock. This bathroom is what dreams are made of, a huge soaking tub next to a double-wide clear glass shower stall with double rainfall shower heads, complete with a glass wall looking out to the secluded part of the yard. The entire bathroom was constructed of black marble and tile, glass, and bronze hardware. It had two single free-standing sinks mounted on a gigantic wall made of one giant mirror. It was truly incredible. There was even a urinal next to the toilet next to the bidet. I drop the suitcase and duffle at the center island of the smaller walk-in closet, knowing I won't need the contents of them until tomorrow. I am noticing how much was already there and how I barely needed to bring anything. The main walk-in closet was the only off-limits area. I walk back through the bedroom and can't help but chuckle at this pop-up sex club that I have for the next week practically. All of this is slightly intimidating, but it's nice to have it as every possible option. I know I'll find a way to make it all useful. I head back towards the other bedroom making a quick stop to fix a fresh drink. Picking up the duffle on my way in, I can't help but appreciate the dichotomy of the two main bedrooms. This one is just slightly smaller. A canopy king bed with oversized white linens. Simple clean design, perfect for when I needed to sleep, exhausted from all the endeavors I'd be partaking in. The bathroom was much less grand but still luxurious, similar setup but all in white and at a much smaller scale. Plenty of room to set up my toiletries and make myself at home. The closet, although still a walk-in, was much smaller. Still plenty of space to unpack all my skimpy items. I decided to lay everything out on the various shelves rather than use the drawers. I unpacked my skimpy items. One shelf for jock straps, one for all various types of swimsuits, one for shorts, one for tank tops, one for socks, and one for gym clothes. Shit, I forgot my gym bag. I run back out to the car and grab it. I open it up and a burst of damp sweat escapes. I lay out my damp tank top and shorts from this morning's workout on the shelf, hoping they will dry enough to use tomorrow. After lining up the multiple pairs of shoes, ranging from boots, sneakers, and various sandals, I laugh. Although all the clothes fit in one duffle, I realize I have enough for a month, all the revealing items spread out in front of me. Finally situated, I am ready for a swim! I pull my jock finally and enjoy the relief of bouncing free. Wearing the damp thing all day was exciting and played into my fun for sure but not the most comfortable to drive in. The smells of my sweaty, pissy crotch and cum covered ass are strong. I pick it up, holding it to my nose, relishing in all the activities that collectively increased its ripe stench. My cock had finally gone down to half-mast but was rapidly firming up. Standing there, thinking about today's events and what is yet to come, my hand starts stroking my ignored member. I feel the cum in my balls churning and reluctantly let go. I'm not gonna waste my first load! I'm going to need a bathing suit to help me resist. My cock hard and dripping again directs me over to my swimsuit shelf. I opt for a small pale blue thong. I rip the tags off and slide it on in front of the full-length mirror. My big round ass swallows the thin stretchy fabric, but damn it looked good. The dark fur and pale skin are in contrast surrounding the light blue nylon stretching to the max around my bulge. I needed a tan but that would be part of tomorrow's conquests. I grab my phone and drink, a towel from the bathroom, and walk out the sliding doors of the bedroom towards the pool. I place my glass and the towel down by the side of the pool. Opening my phone I find the text thread from Peter and click the link to connect to the speakers throughout the backyard and inside the house. I press play, place the phone down and dive into the cool water. "Fuck that felt good," I say to myself. I do a few laps, then a few more to repump my tits before floating for a min. I fight my horniness a few moments longer, enjoying the peace before swimming over to my drink. I take a big swig then dry my hands and grab my phone. It's just after 6:15 as I swipe open my phone. Sniffies is active and I'm surprised at how many messages. Lots of potentials to go through and set up, but I needed to blow a load in or on somebody stat!
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