Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2002 23:27:56 EDT
From: NJRimzu@aol.com
Subject: 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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