Following an over-the-top all gay tour of Europe, Paul settles into his career where he is given free rein to turn rundown properties into gold mines. Thinking outside of the box, he deviates from the norm a little and transforms a desolate place far from the beaten path into a gay resort. With a staff that includes two French hustlers, a blond haired blue eyed Nordic god as a bartender who knows all the right moves, a website where reservations are made at the simple click of a pine tree icon, not to mention the all important lover that Paul met in Europe, NEVADA PINES is born. The premier resort for a romantic weekend, a brief getaway for a night to enjoy the amenities, a discreet hook-up, or a menage with many possibilities, but always classy, NEVADA PINES welcomes you!!
I was approached by two men who asked if I would be so kind as to take their picture. While neither would ever be considered as a model for the cover of a physical fitness magazine, they had the most penetrating brown eyes and the longest eyelashes I had ever noticed. When I agreed, they handed me a camera and wrapped their arms around each other’s waist. I snapped but the flash didn’t fire. They quickly fixed the problem and resumed their pose. This time everything worked perfectly. We chatted briefly and I told them I was from California and here having a good time before starting work.
Evidently the term “having a good time” triggered something because they asked if they could be part of a good time.
“What do you mean?” I naively asked.
“Un ménage a trios,” said the one. I checked them out for a few minutes and felt that I would be totally safe, as I was much stronger than they, but I decided against it. Then I saw them pull the same camera routine on three other guys with no success. They were quite good at hustling. It was a unique ploy. As I sat there sipping my coffee, I got to thinking how erotic it would be having two guys at the same time.
Mustering up the rest of my forgotten French, I hollered, “Garcon, ici!”
They ignored me at first, until I pulled out my wallet. They sauntered over slowly, knowing the fish was on their hook. “Hotel Central,” I said.
“Wow” said the quiet one.
When we got to the hotel room, they wasted no time shedding their clothes, and then they began to undress me. It was like a synchronized water ballet the way they moved. When we were done and showered, and the finances taken care of, Philippe seemed eager to depart, but the quiet one refused to get dressed. He flopped back on the bed. “I want more,” Pierre responded in English for my benefit. I obliged. Philippe stood watching for a few minutes and then he came over, climbed on the bed and simply said, “No charge this time.”
Wednesday was the day. Bill was coming. I put clean sheets on the bed, knowing full well they would be destroyed by the next morning. I tidied up everything. And then it was off to the airport. We were at the terminal by 7:00 p.m. with an hour to wait, which turned into two hours since the plane was held up in Salt Lake City by a severe thunderstorm. I knew the travel gods were teasing me on purpose, increasing my frustration at waiting to see my beloved. But finally there he was – live and in person. I couldn’t wait to get my arms around him in a hug.
Bill might have been exhausted from eighteen hours of air travel, but he never showed it for a moment. He was as hot for me as I was for him. Barely was the hotel room door closed and a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign hanging on the outside doorknob before the buttons on my shirt went flying across the room as he literally ripped my shirt open. It was pure animal lust between the two of us.