Date: Fri, 24 Nov 2023 17:02:16 +0000 (UTC) From: Sloan Cosgrove Subject: Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear: Chapter 41 "Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear" is the sequel to "Sloan Cosgrove, Confessions of a Teenage Bear," a novel originally published online in 2001 and currently available at: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/college/sloan-cosgrove/ Feel free to email me at thefratbear@yahoo.com if you'd like to connect or ask a question. Please note that my old fratbear(at)excite.com email address no longer works. Twitter: http://twitter.com/thefratbear For those without Twitter, I'm also now posting story notes and answers to reader questions on Tumblr: Tumblr: http://www.tumblr.com/thefratbear Please help keep the Nifty Erotic Stories Archive alive by donating: https://donate.nifty.org/ ****** "Sloan Cosgrove 2, Confessions of a Middle-Aged Bear" by fratbear (thefratbear@yahoo.com) Chapter 41: Vegas, Baby November 2008 Las Vegas had been on my mind ever since Thomas the married lawyer from Omaha had told me that Millennium Spa was the largest spa he'd been to outside of Vegas. I'd been living in L.A. for seven years, but for some reason I'd never visited Vegas despite it being barely a half-hour flight away. However, hearing that it was a spa destination, I started to think that I should plan a trip sometime. Of course, the first person I asked about Vegas was my co-worker Reggie, who'd previously given me pointers on where to go in Amsterdam and Palm Springs. However, Reggie told me that he didn't really go to Vegas all that often, probably because Palm Springs had everything he wanted for a quick getaway and was less than half the drive. However, when I asked him if he knew anything about the spas in Vegas, he said that he'd heard good things about Qua, the spa at Caesars Palace. I decided to get a second opinion from someone with more experience. "Yeah, Qua's nice," Dylan said as he lay on my back, his dick still buried in me after having filled my ass with his seed, "and it's huge. However, I think you'd like Mandalay Bay." In the four years since we'd reconnected after the Scissor Sisters concert, Dylan had probably become my best gay L.A. friend. I couldn't count Reggie, who was more of a work buddy. And I definitely couldn't count my old roommate Gabe, who was happily married to Tina and was hoping to start a family with her. However, even though we'd call each other up when we needed someone to talk to about life in Los Angeles, and occasionally we'd even meet up for a quick blowjob or fuck, Dylan and I never even considered becoming a couple. In fact, we hadn't even hooked up in over a year because he'd been in a ten-month relationship with a middle-aged daddy bear named Garson. However, that relationship had recently ended, so Dylan had called me to commiserate. That led to him coming over to my place to give me a good old-fashioned reaming in my own bed. And as he continued to slowly slide his shaft in and out of my ass even though he'd already cum, I decided to ask him for his thoughts on Las Vegas. As it turns out, he and Garson had taken a week-long trip there the previous April, and they'd checked out several hotel spas while they were there, including the Qua, Mandalay Bay, and the spa at Aria. "Yeah, Qua is huge, and there's a lot of action there, but it seems like half the guys there are completely straight." Dylan finally pushed his cock all the way into me and just let it rest there. "The Mandalay Bay spa is smaller, but like ninety percent of the guys are there for sex. Wait until you see the steam room. It's totally set up for play." He chuckled. "There's a reason they call it Mandalay Gay." "That sounds awesome," I replied, deciding at that moment that I would make a trip to Vegas at my earliest convenience. "Okay now," Dylan said as he pulled out of me and got off me. "Now roll over so I can suck your cum out of you." *** My earliest convenience turned out to be Thanksgiving week. I was finally going to be one of those Angelenos who hauled ass out of town for Thanksgiving, only I wouldn't be heading home to see family and stuff myself with turkey and mashed potatoes. Instead, I'd make the four-hour drive through the desert to spend four nights at Mandalay Bay and check out their spa... and maybe do a little gambling. I also discovered that the room rates in Vegas hit rock bottom during Thanksgiving week. I guess most people had better things to do that week than heading to Sin City to go hunting for gay sex in spas. When I told Dylan that I was heading there for Thanksgiving, he said it actually made sense because the spas would be crawling with gay dudes with no family obligations for the holidays. I hit the road early on Sunday morning before Thanksgiving, even before the sun had started to rise. Unsurprisingly, it was smooth sailing the entire way, and it was only 10:00 in the morning when I crested a hill and rounded a curve in Interstate 15 and saw the hotel towers of Las Vegas sparkling in the distance. And the closest of those towers was Mandalay Bay, a nearly 500-foot-tall high-rise covered in gleaming, golden glass. It wasn't until I parked in the massive garage and entered the casino floor that I realized the theme of the hotel was the South Seas, with tropical floral-printed carpeting, carved wood paneling everywhere, and architectural elements that were probably made from cement but were designed to look like carved sandstone. This extended to Spa Mandalay, where almost every inch of the floor and walls were covered in light beige tile, with accents of red tiles around the four pools that were at the heart of the men's spa. "So here we have a warm pool, two hot pools, and a cold plunge," the twinkish Filipino spa attendant told me as he gave me a quick tour of the spa, which they did with all first-time visitors. I made it a point to arrive at the spa before 9:00 on Monday morning so that I could maximize my time there, but I realized that the Vegas crowd probably stayed up late drinking, gambling, and partying, and most were probably still sound asleep. The spa was nearly deserted except for a big, hairy, bald-headed, fifty-something Russian daddy bear soaking in one of the hot pools, engulfed in bubbles and white foam. Unlike the Korean spas, where full nudity was required in the spa area, the spas in Vegas were merely clothing optional. Dylan had told me that the best way to spot straight guys who had no interest in playing were the ones who wore swim trunks, and sometimes board shorts, in the spa. They were to be avoided. It was possible that this Russian daddy bear, despite being completely naked as he sat in the hot pool, wasn't at the spa to play, either, since he'd apparently arrived early in the morning so that he could have the spa all to himself. "And here we have a dry sauna, and next to that is the door to the steam room," the spa attendant said as he took me past the pools and pointed to a glass doors leading into the dimly-lit sauna and the more brightly-lit steam room. I could hear the roar and hiss of the steam generator pumping steam into the steam room. As the spa attendant led me past the pools again, I saw the Russian daddy bear look up at me and give me a nod. I was wondering what that meant as the spa attendant pointed out the showers before taking me into the locker area and showing me how to program a combination into the electronic lock. After showering, I strolled out into the spa area with a towel wrapped around my waist and wearing the black rubber sandals that they had given me at the check-in desk. I saw that the pool area was completely empty now, and I decided to check out the steam room, which Dylan had told me about. Pushing open the glass door to the steam room, I saw that it actually led into a vestibule with a rack of hooks where you could hang up your robe if you were one of those people who liked to wear one in the spa. You had to pass through the vestibule and go through another glass door before entering the actual steam room. This double-door entry helped keep the steam from escaping the steam room, but I realized that the sound of the outer door opening also served as a very convenient warning to guys playing in the steam room that someone was entering. Then there was the layout of the steam room itself, which was basically an L-shape. After going through the inner door of the vestibule, and being blasted by a wall of steam, I had to turn right to go to the two-level amphitheater-styled tiled seating that wasn't visible from the door, especially when the room was filled with steam. That made the end of the steam room an ideal place for some discreet and maybe not-so-discreet play. As I stumbled through the thick steam, trying to see if there was anybody else in the steam room, I bumped my right leg against someone else's leg. I looked down to see that the Russian daddy bear was sitting on a single-level row of seating on my right side. He was sitting with his back to the wall that separated the steam room from the vestibule, which was the most-hidden section of the room from the door. "Sorry," I murmured as I backed away. "No problem," he replied in a thick Russian accent. "It's hard to see here when the steam is on." "It'll clear up when it turns off," another voice piped up somewhere in front of me. Sure enough, at that moment the steam generator shut off, leaving just the sound of water dripping from the ceiling and the sound of the pouring and bubbling water from the pools outside the steam room. "Speak of the devil," the voice said again. I sat on the lower level of the seating across from the Russian daddy bear and casually threw open my towel the same way that I always did at the Korean spas back home. It was a signal to anyone else in the room that I wasn't prudish about showing off my body. As the steam slowly thinned out, I saw the Russian daddy bear sitting across from me, staring at me with a wry smile. He had also uncovered himself, his big, hairy body glistening with sweat and steam, his thick, soft cock and bulbous balls nestled in a bed of dark gray hair. I looked over to my left to the seating at the end of the steam room and saw that there was a stocky, goateed middle-aged man with brown hair, a fuzzy chest, and soft belly lying on a towel on the upper level of the seating. He was naked except for a white washcloth covering his eyes and another one covering his groin. You know, for modesty. "It's my first time in Vegas," I suddenly blurted out. The daddy bear grinned and spoke again with his Russian accent. "Hope you are enjoying yourself." "I am," I said. "You here by yourself?" the goateed man asked without even uncovering his eyes. "Yeah," I replied. "Couldn't find anyone to come with me. How about you guys?" "Yes, alone," the Russian daddy bear answered. "I always come here alone. From New York, but originally from Russia." "Yeah, I can tell," I said, exchanging friendly smiles with him. "I'm here with my wife," the goateed man said. "She's over in the women's spa right now." I saw the Russian daddy bear raise an eyebrow, and I knew that I wasn't going to be able to play with him as long as the goateed man was there. After a couple of minutes, the Russian daddy bear finally stood, wrapping his towel around his waist. "Time for my massage," he said, indicating that he was leaving. The spa attendant had explained to me that if you had a massage appointment, you needed to put on your robe and go to the waiting area at the entrance to the men's spa. After he'd left the steam room, I sat there in silence with the stocky goateed man, who just lay still on the upper level of the seating at the far end of the steam room. The man finally scratched his belly, removed the washcloth covering his face, and looked over at me. "Did you guys want to play?" he suddenly asked. "Because I don't mind. I've had my own share of action here." Just hearing him say that made my cock twitch and begin to harden. He saw my reaction, and his hand moved down and removed the washcloth covering his groin. He began to lazily fondle his soft penis. "But you're married, right?" I asked as I rubbed my cock. "Yeah," he answered, his eyes fixed on my stiffening rod, "but she's known I was bi from the beginning." So Dylan wasn't kidding about the sheer number of guys who came to Spa Mandalay to play with other guys. When the goateed man and I had both worked our cocks to full erections, I stood and walked over to him, taking a seat on the lower-level seating right next to him. I reached over, wrapped my hand around his stiff shaft, and began masturbating him. Grinning, the man looked at my hand pumping his meat for a few seconds, then laid his head back and moaned. As I jerked him off, I took the time to examine his perfect cock and the other parts of his naked, thick body. His stout calves and thighs, his soft, paunchy belly, his thick chest. He looked like your typical suburban dad you'd see walking around your local mall with his wife and kids. Only now he was getting his dick jacked off by a 300-pound bearded bear in a Vegas spa. The steam generator in the steam room suddenly sputtered and then roared to life, pumping fresh clouds of steam, soon enveloping it in a thick, hot fog. The loud roar prompted the goateed man to start groaning and growling loudly, not concerned that anybody outside the steam room would be able to hear him. I decided to take advantage of the situation. I got up onto my knees on the tile seating and leaned over to completely swallow his hard, wet cock. He groaned even louder as I sucked him hungrily, sliding my lips up and down his shaft. His stocky body wriggled and writhed on the hard tile as I serviced his cock with my mouth. I cupped his balls in my hand and gently squeezed them. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum," he cried out, and his body stiffened. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides as his cock pulsed, flooding my mouth with his rich load of sperm. After pumping a few spurts, he let out a deep, cathartic sigh as his body relaxed. His cock kept throbbing in my mouth, shooting more of his juice, which I swallowed happily. I could see his hands gradually unclenching as he relaxed into post-orgasmic bliss. I watched his paunchy stomach rising and falling he took deep breaths. He was staring up at the ceiling with wide open eyes, a look of disbelief on his face. "Fuck, that was incredible," he uttered as the steam generator shut off again, the room completed filled with thick steam. Suddenly, we heard the sound of the outer door of the steam room opening. Someone else was coming in. We both scrambled. He quickly covered up his softening but still cum-dripping penis with his washcloth, and I quickly returned to where I had been sitting and sat back down on my towel, casually leaning forward to cover my still-hard erection with my forearms. The inner door of the steam room opened, and a new guy stumbled through the dense steam before finding a seat a few feet to my right. He turned out to be a young, maybe college-aged jock type, but he was wearing swim trunks, the sure sign of a straight guy who really was there just to use the spa facilities. The goateed man and I just acted like nothing had happened. *** By the afternoon, the spa was bustling, with maybe 20 men filling the steam room, the sauna, and the pools at any given time. Unfortunately, it was clear that maybe a quarter of these men were straight guys who would be upset if they witnessed dudes starting to suck each other's cocks in their presence. So even though I saw the big, bald, hairy Russian daddy bear return to the spa after his massage, there was no opportunity to initiate play. Finally, as the day wore on, and the late afternoon began to set in, most of those straight guys started to leave the spa one after the other, probably to get ready for dinner. So that's how I ended up in the dimly lit dry sauna, a square-shaped room with two levels of wooden bench seating along two sides of the room. Two sauna ovens with hot rocks sat against another wall in front of the glass door. There were already four other men in the sauna with me: a bearded Scandinavian-looking cub; a young, muscular Black man; a dark-complexioned Middle Eastern otter; and a chubby middle-aged Latino man wearing a wedding ring. We were all sitting in random spots on the benches, some on the upper level, some on the lower level. I just happened to be sitting on the lower level at the very end of the seating, the most hidden corner of the room from the door, with my towel open. Predictably, everybody else except for the Latino man with the wedding ring also had their towels open. He just sat there with his towel wrapped and tucked tightly around his waist. Because of that, we all just sat there silently, pretending to enjoy the hot, dry air of the sauna. In reality, the room was filled with sexual tension as everyone wondered whether the Latino man was going to leave or indicate if he was going to play. The tension was broken when the door to the sauna opened, and the Russian daddy bear from earlier entered and looked around. The lighting in the sauna was so dim that it took several seconds for your eyes to adjust after the bright lighting of the main spa area. This was useful for playing in the sauna because it gave you plenty of time to stop if you were interrupted by someone entering the room. After his eyes adjusted, the Russian daddy bear saw me sitting in the dark corner and strolled over to me, sitting on the bench next to me and opening his towel so that we were sitting there side-by-side completely naked. He covered his cock with his hands but made sure that I could see him furtively massaging his cock with his thick fingers. I placed my hands over my own cock and began to do the same. I looked over at the chubby Latino man with the wedding ring to see if he noticed what we were doing and if he had any visible reaction. For a full minute, he just sat there stiffly, staring blankly into the distance, his towel still wrapped tightly around his waist. Then I saw him turn his head and look at me and the Russian daddy bear. He must have seen our fingers moving over our cocks, because his body seemed to relax, and he casually reached down, undid his towel, and opened it to expose himself. He then placed his hand over his own cock and began fondling himself. Surprisingly, the Russian daddy bear and I weren't the first to make a move. Instead, the Scandinavian cub and muscular Black dude suddenly turned to one another, grabbed each other's dicks, and began working them to stiff erections as they kissed each other passionately. The Middle Eastern man and the Latino man with the wedding ring begin to jerk off as they watched the other two men going at it. At this point, the Russian daddy bear and I were fully hard. Not wanting to waste any more time, I immediately leaned over and swallowed his thick cock. "Oh god," he growled in his Russian accent as I bobbed my head over his erection, blowing him furiously. I'd realized that time was of the essence at this spa, where a straight dude or a spa attendant could walk in at any second. I swirled my tongue around his shaft as I tried to make him cum as quickly as possible. And he must've been eager to blow his load all day, because it was only about a minute before he started panting and grunting. "Oh my god, oh my god," he groaned as his huge body suddenly reared up, plunging his cock all the way to the back of my throat. I felt his warm jizz spurting into my mouth, and I gulped it down as his massive body trembled. When I sat back up, I saw him sitting there, drenched in sweat, a big grin on his face. He looked supremely satisfied. I also looked over and saw that the Middle Eastern man was now on his knees before the Latino man, his head bobbing up and down on his cock. "Thank you," the Russian daddy bear finally murmured to me as he came down from his orgasm. "But now you must cum." He reached over and fondled my rock hard shaft. Then, as if struck by inspiration, he pushed himself up so that he had one knee on the bench and one foot on the floor, bent over so that he was presenting his meaty ass to me. "You can fuck me." He didn't have to ask twice. I stood and moved behind him so that I also had a knee on the bench and a foot on the floor. I could tell this big man had taken a lot of cocks in his ass in his life, because I easily slid my meat into him and began fucking him. "Yes, yes, yes," the Russian daddy bear cried out as I plowed his ass with my massive shaft. He was so loud that I was a little worried that they might be able to hear him outside the sauna. The sight of this massive late middle-aged Russian bear getting pounded in the sauna must've been too much for the married Latino man who was getting blown, because he let out a loud grunt, and I saw his body lurch as he shot his load down the Middle Eastern man's throat. "I'm coming," the Scandinavian cub suddenly groaned, and the muscular Black man, who had just been masturbating him, quickly went down on him so that he could receive the cub's sperm in his mouth. As he swallowed the cub's juices, the Black man jerked furiously on his own cock until he blasted his white jizz on the bench. As I fucked the daddy bear, I watched as the Middle Eastern man, who had finished swallowing the married Latino man's load, stood and jerked off until he shot his cum onto the Latino man's chest. Seeing all of these men cumming one after the other pushed me to my own orgasm. "Oh fuck, I'm cumming!" I cried as I filled the Russian daddy bear's ass with my sperm. "Yes, good boy," he moaned as I came in him. "That's good." I finally stopped thrusting and looked around the sauna. I saw all the other men, their cocks still dripping with cum, looking back at me with my dick still buried in the Russian daddy bear, smiling at us. Not bad for my first day in Vegas, I thought.