I couldn't believe it when I won. Third quarter sales are usually my worst, but I guess the Gods were on my side. The fifth annual Brightech Vacation Tournament was a dream come true! A newer dream, as I had only been at the company for three years, but a dream none the less. Chelsea had been excited when I told her the news, too. Unfortunately for her, she couldn't take any time away from school. Becoming a veterinarian was a lot of work and she couldn’t fit her schedule around the flight. We had meet in undergrad both studying Animal Sciences; her good grades and aptitude lead to an advancement into Vet school. I worked odd jobs on farms until I caved into working for a sales firm. I enjoyed the farm work, but money began to get tight. My dream was to use all the knowledge gained in undergrad and put it to good use; i.e. Vet school. But life is tough so when I couldn’t get in after three separate tries I figured I could give sales a try.
I liked Brightech. Good benefits, nice people, casual atmosphere, and I was able to move back to the city near Chelsea. I bike to work, make a comfortable salary, and I just won a trip to an all inclusive resort on the Mexican coast! Life is to good to complain, if only Chelsea could come along. I decided to invite Mitchel. Mitchel was runner up for the contest, so I thought it would be a kind thing to do. We had started at Brightech around the same time and were friendly rivals. Mitchel was charming and slightly flamboyant. He had been on the gymnastic team in college and still had the body. He was just over 5’8”: Dark hair and tan skin. His arm and leg muscles bulged in his business casual. He told me that if he had been more aggressive in flirting with his male clients, he could have won the contest twice over.
What I lacked in gay charm, I made up for with my wholesome style. I took pride in the company’s software products as if they were my own. A piece of me. My cock for example. It sounds cliche, but I took pride in my cock and my sexual prowess and in turn I treated each sales pitch like I was trying to fuck the company: my member being the software.
I would begin by talking about how amazing my cock, ‘the software’, is, no time to be modest.
“‘The software’ is the best there is. Best all around. It would fit in great here. It is a hard worker and gets things done. It works well with everyone and is always on its best behavior. If you have any problem with it, I'll come right down here and put it in its place. You would be wise to accept it; it plans on looking at your competitors soon, but not if you act fast. I can guarantee it will not be visiting any other places.”
I would follow that up by complementing the business:
“I always wanted to see ‘the software’ in a place like this. You really have a good thing going on here! This place is amazing, makes me want to leave a resume so I could spend more time here. I had heard good things in the past, but now I can see that it's all true.”
If none of that was working, as a last ditch effort I would unbutton my collar, roll up my sleeves, and bring out the charm. This worked for guys and gals, a handsome guy like me could get it either way. I had the homegrown demeanour. I would sit across from them, tell them I understand that they weren't interested, and then just bullshit with them for a half hour. On my way out, I could bend over to pick up my things, and nine times out of ten I would have a voice message back at the office accepting the original offer. I had short blond hair, tan skin, a tight farmboy’s build, and a wide smile. I guess people could picture themselves with me.
Mitchel and I had planned to meet up after work to have some drinks and plan for the trip. I picked Charity Bar. The happy hour specials were great, and I had a crush on one of the bartenders. Being in a relationship had its ups and downs, but my own philosophy was that humans are too great of a creature to only share their love with one other person. I never shared this notion with Chelsea, and I never plan to. I enjoyed the stability of a relationship, and the stability of consistent sex, but I always figured I deserved more. We all deserve more. I got to the bar before Mitchel and pick a spot near the window. My eyes met Crystal’s, the bartender. That’s the name I had given her. She had a punk vibe; tattoos and high black boots and high black shorts. I nodded my head and she smiled.
I saw Mitchel enter. He looked tired. He sat down beside me instead of across from me. I didn’t mind. “You just get here? I didn’t even see you leave the office.”
“I snuck out.” I said and winked at him.
“I'll go get us some drinks. I brought a legal pad so we can plan the week.” said Mitchel. I have to admit Mitchel looked good. I wasn’t the only one who noticed. As he went up to the bar, three or four heads turned. Almost a fifth of the patrons. Lucky me, in the presence of royalty.
Mitchel came back with a drink in each hand and a smile from ear to ear.
“The bartender said we make a cute couple.” Mitchel said. He was laughing and he gave me a kiss on the cheek as he put down my drink. I looked back at Crystal, red faced, and smiled. She smiled back.
“So I got us each a Long Island, because…” I began to roll my eyes. “BECAUSE Christopher I think you do your best thinking when you are loosened up a bit.”
“You and my mom are the only people who call me Christopher.” I said.
“Well, your mother and I have a lot in common then. We both like your full name, and we are both VERY proud of you.” Mitchel said grinning.
Mitchel and I didn’t hang out much outside of work. Come to think of it we had only gone out once. On a Friday a few months back I thought Chelsea and I had broken up for good. I came into work sulking. Mitchel asked what was wrong, I explained, and he ended up inviting me out with his friends to a dance hall. I don't remember much, but I do recall Mitchel using me to make one of his exes jealous. The power of good-looks, and friends with good-looks, is sometimes additive.
Mitchel flipped over the first page on his pad of paper, took a long drink from his red swizzle straw, and went to work.
“I was thinking when we get there we will be a combination of tired and excited. So we will get some coffee and a cocktail. Do we have to check in first you think? Probably. Okay, so we will check in and then we will get coffee and a cocktail by the pool. I went to an all-inclusive before with Rick, Rick the ex, you remember him right? WELL we had to get wristbands when we were there so we'll probably, too. Or a stamp or something. So we will get that at check in and then get the coffee and a cocktail. Or iced coffee because it will be hot. Oh! You know we can probably get a fancy iced coffee cocktail or something because it's endless there and you can have whatever you want! Okay, so we will get those by the pool...wait we probably want to freshen up and change into swimsuits before that. Maybe we can get those cocktails and then head up and change and wash up because we will have flown a few hours, and a face wash and a toothbrush will sound like a good idea. So then we can relax by the pool. I just got some cute new shorts I’m going to try out. You can borrow them if you want because I know you’ll be looking jealous as EVER!. But really we can relax by the pool and then go up and get ready for dinner. I think you have to dress nice. I think. We will look nice regardless. So then dinner and then maybe we can go out to a club? Or maybe just relax by the pool and drink too much. Yeah let's do that. Okay so that’s day one night one. Then in the morning…”
Mitchel went on like this until his long island was long gone. His legal pad had become a combination map/grocery list/black-book with cute illustrations of myself in a speedo sprinkled throughout. When he was finished he wrote The Best Vacation Ever Starring Christopher & Mitchel in large block letter across the top.
“I'll make you a copy tonight and give it to you on the airplane so you can study it.” I smiled, finished my drink off, and smiled again. It was going to be a fun time.
I called Chelsea when I got home but it went to voicemail. Probably studying late, I thought. I texted her saying that I was going to bed, and that if I didn’t hear from her before tomorrow I would try to video message her in Mexico. I went to my room, stripped down to my boxers, shaved, poured a glass of water, set my alarm for 5AM, jerked of to some porn on my phone, and fell asleep with cum still on my chest. The last thought of the night was of Mitchel’s ass in the bar that evening. A good ass. Good job Mitchel.
5AM came and went and I woke up to my phone ringing at 5:30. It was Chelsea wishing me a safe trip and a good time. I thanked her and we chatted on speakerphone while I packed up. I had gotten some condoms the week before. I packed them in the bottom of my bag just incase. When I bought them, I half hoped Chelsea would have walked into the store and caught me. Red Handed. At least that way she would know how I was feeling. Sex is just sex sometimes, but it can be a lot more too, and if you have a gift and you want to share it, then maybe you should act on those thoughts and urges regardless of the sociality consequences. Maybe. As much of a brave sentiment I thought this was, I wasn't brave enough to let Chelsea know I planned to get laid again and again in Mexico. I felt bad only long enough to wish her a good week. I had been fixated on the notion of becoming a hedonist lately after reading an online article on sexuality-in-marriage, and although I knew that starting to practice a pseudo-religion after reading 1000 words on the subject seemed ill advised, I couldn’t stop the thoughts. I hung up the phone, realized I had gotten hard packing the condoms, rearranged my cock, and walked out the door.
I live near the train, so the Airport was a quick fifteen minutes ride away. I met Mitchel at the entrance. Mitchel had on a pink polo shirt, short running shorts, and sandals. You take the boy out of the frat, but you can't take the frat out of the boy.
“Right on time, kid,” said Mitchel. We made it past security with no issues.
“You’re going to learn a lot about me during this trip Christopher,” said Mitchel, “and I want you to know I’m glad they didn't have to check my luggage. The dildo is right on top and it would have popped right out! You never know when you will need a dildo, am I right?” I smiled and my cock twitched.
Gate G was our destination. We made it with plenty of time to spare. I bought us both a coffee on the way.
“What are you looking forward to the most, Christopher?” Said Mitchel.
“I’m honestly excited to get out of the city for a while. Away from work, away from sales…”
“Away from Chelsea?” Asked Mitchel.
“Yeah, away from...no, not that. Just away from everything else.”
“Good catch.” Said Mitchel. He couldn't stop smiling. “I’m excited for just about everything, the food, the boys, the dancing, the boys, the booze, the boys. I could go on.”
“No, I think I get the gist.” I said.
We were first to board. The contest entitled the winner to two round trip first class tickets to an all inclusive Mexican resort and spa. The first class cabin was spacious. The minute we sat down, a handsome young flight attendant asked us our drink order.
“Just a coffee for now, thanks.” I said, while adjusting into the window seat.
“Just a coffee? You're on vacation, Christopher! We will have two rum and cokes, and keep them coming!” Said Mitchel.
“Right away sir.” Said the attendant.
As the rest of the cabin began to fill up, Mitchel turned to me.
“I want you to pretend this is the last vacation you’ll ever have, and if you end up marrying that girlfriend of yours, it might as well be. So go all in kid, take life by the balls. You won't regret it.” I don't know what took over me in that moment, but I took Mitchel’s collar in my fist and pulled him close to me, and kissed him on the mouth. He had soft lips and I could feel his scruff on my Smooth face. When we released I looked him in the eyes and said,
”Show me good time, Mitchel.”
“Absolutely! Leave the REST to me.” Was this the first time I kissed a boy? No. College is a wild time for most kids, and I played my part. I've been with plenty of girls and a handful of guys; guys on the down low and girls I introduced to my parents, but I like sex and people and sexy people. Mitchel was a sexy person.
The flight attendant had seen the kiss as he was returning with our drinks.
“Look like the vacation is starting early for you two.” We thanked him for our drinks and Mitchel began sorting through his carry on.
“I know I packed the list. I know it’s here somewhere. I have to make some adjustments, and it all starts with that flight attendant.”
The first half hour of the flight Mitchel was busy rewriting the vacation agenda.
“You know, it would have been helpful to know that this is what you wanted, Christopher. I would have packed accordingly.”
“How so?” I asked.
“Let's just say there would be less underwear and more shoes. I don't think I’m going to be wearing much underwear after we get off this plane.” Said Mitchel. He pinched my thigh.
“Okay so I think I have everything covered, and it's in numerical order, so as we finish a task we can cross it off the Golden List. That’s what I've decided to call it. Number one is to ‘cum on the plane’, or in it. Wherever you want to cum buddy.” Mitchel finished his drink and mine and got up. “I’m going to go talk to the flight attendant.” He took both glasses and headed towards the front of the plane.
The man really works wonders. Remember that. In about ten minutes Mitchel returned to his seat. Two drinks in hand.
“Turns out the kid’s name is Harry, and Harry is horny.” Said Mitchel. I would have been surprised if I wasn’t so distracted by Mitchel’s influence. In a matter of minutes this guy introduced himself to a cute guy in the middle of his work day, and flirted his way to a hook up mid-flight. “I’m going to go to the bathroom and Harry is going to follow in a minute or two. You should come in after that. Deal?” Said Mitchel.
“Deal.” I said. I was already getting hard.
Mitchel headed to the first class bathroom and Harry followed soon after. The timing was good; most of the other passengers were either sleeping, being that it was early morning, or busily working. I can't be certain that no one noticed three men form a conga line into the bathroom, but if they did, no one seemed to mind. When I opened the door Mitchel was completely naked besides his sandals. The room was bigger than I expected. Maybe six feet by four. Plenty of room for all of us. Harry had his uniform top off, and his cock was erect sticking through the zipper of this dress pants. He was stroking his own cock and working on Mitchels with his mouth. I slowly took off my shirt and unbuttoned my pants. Mitchel reached for my hard cock, and used it to pull me closer to him.
“Don't be shy, Christopher.” Said Mitchel. “Harry is a friendly fellow.”
“Gaarry..*cough* Greendly...” Said Harry, with a mouth full of dick. Mitchel and I began to make out and Harry began to work on both of our cocks together. Mitchel had a long tough. He pushed it deep in my throat. I fought back with my tongue.
“Fuck kid, I’m usually the dominant one.” Said Mitchel, and he push me against the bathroom wall. Both of our cocks popped out of Harry’s mouth.
“Can they hear us in there, Harry?” I asked.
“I haven’t gotten into trouble yet, and you guys are pretty quiet compared to some others.” Without a cock in his mouth, Harry began to work on Mitchel's ass.
“Fuucck, get in there Harry!” I was getting close at this point. I looked down and Harry already had came on his chest. The cum was dripping onto his cock and he was using it as lube to keep jerking off. He was ready for a double header.
I got out of Mitchel’s grip and took a hold of Harry’s face. We started to make out as Mitchel turned around. We shared Mitchel’s cock, taking turns sucking until I shot a load all over myself.
“That's so hot Christopher, nice work!” Said Mitchel. Harry was sucking on Mitchel's low hanging balls when he came a second time, same amount as they first. Harry and I began rubbing Mitchel's body and he came instantly across both of our faces. We shared a kiss, stood up, shared another kiss with Mitchel, and let out a huge laugh.
“King of Cum, that my new name for Harry.” I said, and he looked the part too. With two loads on his chest and stomach and another across his face, Harry definitely earned the title. F f “King of Cum, I like the sound of that!” Said Harry, and he pushed some of the cum from his face to his mouth.
“So…maybe we should freshen up a bit?” Said Mitchel.
“I’m on it.” Said Harry. He grabbed some paper towel and wiped off as much of the cum as he could. He put on the rest of his uniform, sans underwear and socks, and snuck out the door. Harry returned in less than a minute with six hot towels and some mini bottles of tequila. “Thanks King.” I said. “Looks like you earned a tip.”
“The cocks and cum were plenty.” Said Harry. “But I'll expect a cock in my ass if I’m working on your return flight.” He smiled and helped us towel off.
“Well Christopher, how was that for a kick-off event?” Said Mitchel. We were all clean, and Mitchel was passing out the tequila.
“Fantastic.” I downed my drink and grabbed the hips of both guys.
“I should really get back to the flight.” said Harry. “My supervisor supports my lifestyle, but a half hour in the bathroom is pushing it...”
“Can I grab a photo quick?” Said Mitchel. It wasn’t really a question as he already had his phone out and was in selfie position. I dropped my arms over Harry’s shoulders and lifted up his shirt showing off his abs.
“Smile on three...Three!”
Harry walked out and said to give him five minutes to get to the back of the plane. Then we were to wait five minutes in between leaving. With just the two of us alone, I let out a sigh and Mitchel let out a giggle.
“What's so funny?” I asked.
“I just didn’t expect this kind of trip to end up like THIS kind of trip. I’m surprised, and then again not really surprised.” I felt the same way. Eventually I knew my life would come to this. The first step in becoming a hedonist was to take drastic action.
“Have you ever heard of the term hedonism?” I asked Mitchel.
“Yeah, I had a boyfriend back in the day that was into that. Spirituality through pleasure and all that crazy stuff?”
“Yeah, I was thinking I could get into that.”
“Whatever floats your boat man.” Said Mitchel “I’m just a horny guy that like sex, but if you want to give credit to a higher power for your orgasms, be my guest.” He slapped my ass and left the bathroom.
It was more than that, though. As a hedonist, I could credit my urges, sexual urges, to a higher calling. A gift. And it gave me a freedom to act on any and all urges I had in order to attain more pleasure. Pleasure is God, or at least pleasure is a sign that we are all alive. It seemed to be the first time I could remember that I felt purpose in life, to follow a charge, to act on my sexual desires, and to act on the desires of others. Mitchel was a great tour guide into world of homosexuality, but I knew that I should have started long ago, and not just jerking off with college friends. Delving deep into this world of constant consistent calming fucking. At this stage I would have said I was bisexual at most and an experimental hetero at least, but there was something about the gay lifestyle that could let my hedonism take charge. That's the way I wanted it to be. Strength through sex.
When I finally left the bathroom there was a line of three people waiting to get in. Immediately I pretended to act sick, nauseous, with a fist over my mouth and hand on my stomach. I walked by an older couple with frowns on their faces. Whether they were upset by the thought of me being “sick” or the thought of three guys alone in a bathroom I will never know, but the third person in line was a tall handsome man, maybe 45, with a thin build and short red hair. He winked at me and my cock twitched. I winked back and found my seat. There was coffee waiting for me on the fold down tray and Mitchel was fast asleep and semi-erect in his chair.
“Must be a good dream.” I quietly said outloud. The coffee was strong and I took a moment to just sit and take in the experience. In the hedonist philosophy, one is encouraged to take gratitude in all of life’s pleasure, to take a moment and reflect on the actions that led to a climax, and to be receptive of all of life’s invitations. The handsome red-head seemed like an invitation enough. I took another sip of coffee.
What would Mitchel do to get that guy? Should I wake him up? Should I try this one on my own? Should I really have another round on the same plane? Would that look suspicious? Would Harry see? Would Harry be jealous?
Planning a fuck should not be stressful I decided. I turned my neck to the seats behind me. Handsome Red was ten rows back in the economy comfort section. I looked to make eye contact but he was wearing thick frame glasses and focused on reading his business magazine. I cut my losses, turned back around, and shut my eyes for a cat nap. You have to take lack of a sign as a sign too. I'll sit this one out.
“Christopher,” whispered Mitchel. “Check this out.” He was reading an events calendar on his phone.
“We get free internet up here?” I asked, surprised, while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Fuck yeah man, first class CLASSY. So I was looking up some touristy things to do together, in case we got ahead on our list, and I found this. Want to sign up?” I took the phone out of his hand.
‘Beach Bums Monthly Review. 1500 pesos grand prize for Best Bum Dance Contest.’ The disclaimer said 18 plus, locals and visitors welcome. ‘Drink specials throughout the night. Shots for garments exchange. Hosted by Raul and his boys.’ Looks like a hot mess, I thought. “What do you say? Ever danced for money?”
“Is it dancing? Looks like a strip show.”
“In the gay world, those words are interchangeable.” Said Mitchel rolling his eyes. Was this a sign too? I had only recently been listening to the cues from the world. And Mitchel seemed excited, and I was excited that he was excited. And just the thought of getting increasingly naked in front of other men was getting me hard.
“You think the guys will be hot?”
“There are always a few duds with shows like this, but there will be plenty of candy.” When I didn't decide fast enough, Mitchel said, “We can play it by ear, it isn’t until tomorrow night and we have a lot of activities to get through before then. He pointed at his crotch. “Involving your cock?” I asked. He shook his head and pulled the list form his front pocket.
“No, the itinerary, remember? But yeah, I guess my cock is involved with the majority of these activities.” He playfully rubbed his bulge and smiled.
“What's next on the list?”
“Nothing until we get to the hotel, but if you don't mind I'm going to go chat up Harry and see if he knows anything about ‘Beach Bums’.” Mitchel, instead of asking me to moved, Straddled my hips with his ass facing me and slowly made his way to the aisle.
“Just practicing for number three on the itinerary.” he said, and walked to the front of the plane. I was fully erect at this point. I closed my eyes hoping it would make the plane land sooner. Number three couldn't come soon enough.
I woke up to the rumble of touchdown. It took fifteen minutes to get to the gate, and the plane was starting to heat up.
“Hotter than Harry’s hole in here.” Said Mitchel. We were both sweating thought our shirts when we finally got off the plane. Getting through customs was a breeze, and after finding a cheap taxi we were on our way to the resort.
“You know, they gave me a travel allowance for the trip. We could have taken a town car.” I said to Mitchel. The taxi was nice, in a 1992 rustic sort of way, but after flying first class I felt like I deserved something more luxurious. Mitchel had negotiated for the cab using his broken Spanish. I was thinking his selection was based on the tight shorts and cute feet of the sandal clad driver.
“I figured, but then I thought those funds could be used elsewhere.” “The resort is all inclusive.”
“True, but what I have planned for us isn’t.”
I rolled down the window and took in the ocean breeze. It was hot but not humid, and I was looking forward to starting on a vacation-tan with a drink in each hand. Or a cock in each hand. Or a drink in one hand and a cock in the other. Regardless I would be buzzed from sun up to sun down, and then some, and I was planning to never get soft. If my erection I had going right now was any indication, it wouldn’t be an issue.
“I should have packed some tighter underwear, I going to be showing off to everyone at the resort.”
“You've got a gift, Christopher, baby.” Said Mitchel. “It's time to show it off. Release THE Beast.” The beast, that’ll be its name, my cocks name. He had been caged up long enough in my short lifetime. And he is never going back.
We continued driving along the shore. There seemed to be resorts stretching along the entire coast, each with its own beach front. We pasted a large pier where two gigantic cruise ships were anchored, and a literal boatload of tourists were unloading.
“Have you ever been on a cruise?” I asked Mitchel.
“Twice, both with the same guy, he loved them, I hated them, but it was a free trip for me and EXcellent company for him.”
“Your Ex?” I asked, expecting it to be the case.
“No, more of a symbiotic relationship. I was on spring break from college the first time and he needed company. The ‘off-ship’ activities were amazing, but everything else was a wash. He needed arm candy at dinner I guess. But I can't say it was so bad; when he invited me the next year I said yes. He paid for the entire trip, but part of me thinks he charged it to his company. ‘Team building exercises’ I would imagine. There is a whole group of wealthy gays that can do that. Can you imagine? Inviting cute guys to go on vacations with you with no out of pocket cost? That’s my goal a few years down the line.”
“Being the wealthy gay, or the cute gay?” I asked, sincerely. Mitchel thought about it for a moment.
“Both. I want to be cute enough to be invited again, and wealthy enough to not have to be.”
“Well,” I said, “if you think about it I invited you on this trip, so I’m kind of like the wealthy gay.”
“This must by a symbiotic relationship then. I look good in a suit sitting by you at dinner, and you bring me cocktails.”
“And cocks.” I added.
“WOW, look at you Christopher! You're adjusting to this vacation quickly.” It was true. I could sense some of Mitchel's vulgarities were rubbing off on me, but was it really vulgar? Two guys joking around about sex wasn't any more obscene than most of the topics adults converse about. Politics, the economy, foreign policy? These were all less polite, in my mind, than consensual sex. And if sex is a polite topic, then Mitchel and I were just joking in the back seat of a taxi, and what is more wholesome than that?
We turned onto a gravel road and then left down an alleyway.
“Is this the right way?” I asked Mitchel.
“I don't really know. I showed him the address on my phone. Maybe we are still a ways out. Or maybe this is a shortcut. Or maybe he is taking us back to his place?”
“That'll cost extra.” Said the cab driver. He was making eye contact with me through the rearview mirror and smiling. His English was great, and I was surprise we hadn't noticed when Mitchel was negotiating a price with him earlier.
“Oh, shit, sorry man. I didn’t think you were listen to us.” I said.
“Don’t worry. I like it when the homosexual couples come to town. They tip me extra.” He smiled again.
“I'll tip you even more if you take your shirt off.” I said. Mitchel looked at me with a mixture of surprise and pride.
“Look at the horned monster I've created. Mother is so proud.”
“We are nearly there, but I can take you on tour if you’re interested?”
“Yes, and can you takes us by this club?” Said Mitchel, passing his phone up to the front seat. The driver had pulled over and was slowly taking off his shirt. Both of his nipples were pierced, and he had a black stripe tattoo up his right tricep stretching to his neck. He had a nice build, with medium pecks, tiny tummy, and a dark treasure trail. He earned his tip already, I thought.
“Let me guess, Tito's?” He reached for the phone.
“Oh! Mezcla. Raul's place. You men are more adventurous than you look. Planning to win contest?”
“Damn straight.” Said Mitchel.
The car pulled into a tight alley and drove back onto the main street. The traffic was mild; a few hundred yards up the road we turned back down the alley.
“Gosh, this is pretty close to the hotel then?” I asked the driver.
“Yes, strategic placement.” He said. Mitchel laughed. The car stopped in front of an inconspicuous wooden door in the side of an abandoned looking building painted black as pitch. The door was gothic style with iron bracers spaced three inches apart. Along the side of the door was a sign made out tin cut block letters reading ‘Mezcla’.
“It is easy to find at night, just follow music and boys. Want me to take you to the beach?”
“Isn’t everywhere a beach?” I asked.
“There is a special one the boys like to go to. I'll show you.” And without a second thought, the driver zipped down the next alleyway and back out to the main drive. Ten minutes later we arrived at an eclectic looking inn, old world style, that looked like it was build when the city was first founded. The exterior was dark, and tall palms surrounded the establishment. A glimpse of the beach could be seen from around the edge of the building.
“You can't just walk onto the property here, they have strict guards, but I’ve known guys who meet other guys that are staying here just so they can see the beach.”
“What is so special about it?” Asked Mitchel.
“No clothing, non-optional.” He turned to us and looked us up and down.
“You should check out. Just be friendly when you are in the city, there is always someone willing to take you in. Chat up the older men; they seem to like this place.”
“Thanks for the advice. I think we will head back now if you don't mind. I could use a drink and I need to add nude beach to the itinerary.” Said Mitchel. “
More than nude.” Said the driver. “You'll have to see for yourselves.”
“Consider it done. And for the drive home I'll tip more if you go commando.” I said. “Commando?” He said.
“Just take it all off. Everything.” Said Mitchel.
“Whatever you say jefes.” He got out of the front seat and onto the street. He took off his shorts and briefs underneath. His ass was pale in comparison to the rest of his tan body. The tan line was distinct, and his ass was almost comically big. The ass didn’t quit match his tighter, smaller physique. He adjusted his balls and cock, turned to us, put his hands behind his head, pushed his hips forward, and said,
“Enjoying the view?” “Absolutely!” Said Mitchel and I in unison. He had a thick uncut cock. Tasty.
“Well, look and don't touch, I have a lady and a baby waiting for me when I get back home.”
“How’s that working out for you?” Asked Mitchel.
“Christoper here is in the same boat.”
“Haha, well, I’m a traditional guy, married young, still loyal. But, putting on a show now and then is enough to for me. Whether it be for a couple in my car or at Mezcla.” He had started pulling on is cock while he was talking. It looked to be dripping precum, but that could have been sweat too. It was heating up. The sun was straight above us with no clouds, and the driver’s body was starting to glisten with sweat.
“Fuck, well if that works for you, all the best, but we are here to get Christoper laid non-stop.”
“Like I said, check out the beach for that. They won't disappoint.” Mitchel got out his phone and added the address to his notes.
“Thanks for the advice man, we can head back now. Unless you want to put a hold on your ‘look don't touch’ rules just for us.” I said.
“Sorry boys, I’ll take you back.” He reached for his underwear. “Although” he said with one leg in one hole of his briefs, “I could do my signature performance.” He was fully hard by this point. “Showing off in front of you two has gotten me all hot.”
“Yes please.” Said Mitchel, without looking up from his phone.
“Alright, let's go.” He said. He gathered his clothes and put them all on the passenger's seat. Bare ass on the driver's seat he started the car and began driving. All the while working the sweat from his chest onto his cock; he worked the shaft up and down using the sweat as lube. We drove on the main road for a while with all of the windows rolled down. A couple of cars honked when we pulled up close to them at traffic lights. The sight of a taxi driver masturbating with passenger in the back was unexpected at least and definitely highly erotic. We drove past the main stretch of hotels and resorts and back toward the hills. The older parts of the city were perched along the base of the mountains with cottages speckled all the way to the top. We turned down a gravel path that led up to a stream. The stream wound its way up to the top of one of the smaller hill. The gravel road followed in this direction, too.
By the time we made it to the top, the driver was moaning in ecstasy, having edged his way from the shore to the mountain. His cock was pulsing, and there was precum trickling out of the tip and running down the shaft into his pubic hair. The heat was increasing as we elevated, and Mitchel and I had both taken off our shirts. We were massaging each others hard cocks through our shorts. The driver was drenched in sweat, still using the moisture from his chest as lube.
“Remember boys,” he said, panting in between strokes. “Look don't touch.” We arrived at a clearing and he parked the car. He got out and we followed. We walked down a narrow trail that opened onto a spectacular view of the old town. It was breathtaking. From this angle you see the ocean, the resort beaches, and the cruise ships in the far distance, but what took my breath away were the lush green mountains that surrounded us. It was the perfect frame for the driver’s show. He continued to work on his cock until we could see his toes start to curl. He let out a soft ‘Yelp!’ and shot a massive load over the edge of the vista. He let out three softer yelps and three small shots of cum. He took a moment to compose himself, turned to face us, and bowed. We politely clapped. Quite a sight.
There was a long string of cum hanging from his cock. I began to take off the rest of my clothes.
“How about a picture.” I said. I was erect and keep playing with myself as I approached the edge of the hill. Mitchel followed suit. The driver looked exhausted, sweaty, and content. We both wrapped and arm around him, and he did the same to us. His body was warm, and I pushed myself even closer to him. I wanted to be as close as possible.
“Are you going to take the photo?” Asked Mitchel in my direction.
“Oh.” I said. “My phone is still in my shorts pocket.”
“Well fuck me, I'll grab mine.” Mitchel let go of the diver and walked back to his clothes. Standing in this beautiful environment next to a beautiful man holding him tight brought me a overwhelming sense of pleasure and joy. The pleasure unsurprisingly came from slowly masturbating, and the joy came from the driver. The connection we had. Not a romantic connection, but something spiritual. Something drastically different from what I was used to in my day-to-day existence. Here was a man who could perform for others and share his gift, his talent. It was a unique talent, something that I didn’t often interact with. But the overwhelming sense of pleasure and joy, that specific combination, set in motion the way I carried myself for the rest of the trip. I had always been a confident man, and the thought of showing my cock off for others’ enjoyment wasn’t itself striking. The pride the driver took in this act, in his art and craft, is what I admired.
In the fifteen seconds Mitchel took to grab his phone I had felt all of these emotions. They were complicated, yet simple. Contradicting yet cooperative. They were amazing and they were mine. The new me. Mitchel took a photo of the three of us from the chest up.
“One we can show our friends.” He said. He flipped his phone lengthwise and took another with our cocks in view. “And one we can jerk off too later.” The driver slapped our backs and our asses.
“Let's get you boys home.” He said. We grabbed our clothes and took them back to the cab to get dressed. The driver got dressed after wiping himself off with a blue towel he pulled from the trunk. He must do this fairly regularly if he keeps a towel in the back, I thought. And why wouldn’t he. The universe had given him these opportunities to show others what he was made of. His true self. Nothing is more rewarding than that. He might not think of it in this manner; it might just be an extra source of income or a way to relieve stress. But to me this was his calling. It was my calling, too.
The trip back to the resort was a long ride, or at least it felt that way. Mitchel and I were both unbelievably horny and could hardly keep our hands to ourselves. We could have jerked off there, in the backseat, and after what we just witnessed with the driver, it was very tempting. But in the end, without even speaking, we decided to be patient and wait to get to the resort. An erection is a gift in itself, and I didn’t want to waste it in the back of an old car. Mitchel, I believe, wanted a cocktail to go with his cock. Regardless, we waited it out.
We exited off the main road, and turned back down the same alley ways. The resort’s entrance had two security posts. A guard approached the car. “Nombres?” He asked. I spoke up from the back seat.
“The last name is Emert.” He found us on his list and motioned us to drive through. There was a large fountain with a brick paved road circling the structure. Palms and many tropical flowers framed the check in desk, which was under a large beige canopy. This courtyard was deserted except for ourselves and the bellhops. A beautiful young girl came out from the back as our cab parked in front of the desk. The bellhops asked again for my name and took the luggage. I tipped them. I turned to the driver, and gave him a generous tip along with all of the money I had budgeted for transportation. The rules of the contest said I could itemize all travel expenses back to Brightech, so I wasn't worried about over tipping. We thanked him again for all of his help, and with a quick nod and smile he left the resort. I never asked for his name, and neither did Mitchel. There was something erotic about his anonymity; I suppose neither of us wanted to take that away from him.
We walked to the front desk.
“Did you get lost on your way here from the airport?” Said the beautiful young girl. Her name badge read ‘Blanca’. “Everyone else flying in today has already checked in. We were worried!” She smiled.
“Just took the scenic route.” Said Mitchel. He winked at her.
“Well, let's get you all settled in. It looks like our first business is to say congratulations! For what, I don't know...someone sent Christopher...” she pointed at me, “some champagne and a card. We have it chilling here if you would like two glasses.”
“Can you have it sent up to the room?” I asked quickly.
“Of course.” Said Blanca. I knew the bottle and card were from the senior managers at Brightech, and I couldn’t care less. It was thoughtful, but I had other things on my mind at the moment. I wanted a room. I wanted a stiff drink. I wanted Mitchel.
“Next order of business is…” She grabbed a clipboard from the back counter, “...rules of the resort.” She checked a box on the form. “We are an all-inclusive resort. Villa Noche will take care of all of your meals. We have unlimited drinks as well. There are several different restaurant offerings on the property, feel free to check out as many or as few as you wish. Some may require a reservation, so plan ahead.” She checked another box. “We have wrist bands too, so please keep them on for the duration of your stay. If you have any additional guests, they will have to pay for a day pass to use the facilities. There is a lifeguard on duty during the daylight hours, but he only oversees the pool area. Be cautious if you decide to swim in the ocean.” She checked another box. “There will be live music near the first floor bar,” she gestured behind herself, “tonight and every night this week beginning at eight. We also have a guest DJ after hours in the club room next to…” At this point I had fully checked out. As Blanca continued to check boxes off of her tally sheet, I could feel my cock getting impatient with me. I was getting hard without any stimulus other than the hope that we could leave this desk soon. Mitchel was much more polite than I, and nodded along with every rule Blanca spoke of. Eventually after nine or so check-boxes, I took my sandal off my right foot and began to rub it on Mitchel’s leg. His face remained focuses on the rules presentation, but I could tell he was thinking the same thoughts as I. He flicked off his left sandal, and began to rub in reciprocation. I turned my head back around to see if any of the bellhops were watching. It wouldn’t have bothered me, but they were not interested; all three of them were talking quietly near the fountain and counting their tips.
“And finally...,” said Blanca. I sighed internally. “I need some signatures.” Mitchel quickly slipped of his opposite sandal and reach down to put on my pair. I followed suit, putting on his. We were about the same size, and his sandals were well worn. They felt good on my feet. The indentations from his toes and sole were slightly different than my own. I couldn’t describe the feeling of putting on another man’s clothes, but I enjoyed it. My cock and asshole twitched and I got a warm chill run up my spine. Mitchel signed and put out his right hand for a wristband. I signed and did the same.
“Tell me if it is too tight.” Said Blanca as she fastened our wristbands.
“Perfecto!” Said Mitchel. He winked at her again.
“Okay gentlemen. I'll show you the room.”
She led us down a narrow hallway that opened into another courtyard. The area was open air, with pristine white couches arranged in seating areas every few yards. The first floor bar stretched the entire length of the court yard. Several resort guesses were mingling at the bar and the bartender was working hard to keep up with demands. The ceiling was twenty or thirty feet above us, and large lanterns hung down on gold chains. There were smaller fountains in the middle of this courtyard that connected to a marble stream which lead outside to the pool. From this view we could see the pool area with several dozen canopies, which were staggered and descended gradually to connect with the beach. There was a game of volleyball going on, but most of the guests were lounging in the sun with drinks. I was surprised at how quiet it was. Speakers were built into the potted palms and a calming Latin Jazz was the only thing I could hear besides the sounds of the waves. A whistle blew in the distance signaling the end of the volleyball game. For a moment I had forgotten my current goal to get off with Mitchel. For a moment I took in my surroundings and thought how much Chelsea would have enjoyed this trip. I would have enjoyed her company too. It is a different kind of company, obviously, but still very enjoyable. That moment quickly passed when Mitchel approached my right side and put his left hand in my right front pocket. He tickled my inner thigh. I was hard instantly.
Blanca took us outside and up a flight of stairs. We walked down another open air hallway.
“Room 224, here we are. Two beds. Anything in the room in included in your visit. The bar is restocked every morning at nine. On behalf of myself and Villa Noche, please enjoy your stay.” She handed us both a key card.
“Thank you!” We said in unison. As she walked away, Mitchel grabbed my shoulders, flipped me around, pinned me against the door, and kissed me.
“Welcome home, baby.” He said. He slipped his key card into the lock and opened the door behind me.
Copyright © 2016 by L. Thomas
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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