The Hawaiian heat made Chris feel drowsy with its oppressive humidity, compounding the three stiff drinks he had in the past hour. Day drinking is fine if you're on vacation, Chris thought to himself as he peered through his half empty Long Island Ice Tea underneath the straw hut that doubled as a bar. Not that this was a particularly pleasant vacation. He was supposed to be here with his wife, enjoying a much needed break from the never ending life of a trial lawyer. But the break had come too late. Chris and his wife had a pretty bad fight just three days before their trip. She had thrown her wedding ring at him and stormed out. Chris was keenly aware of the absence of his own wedding band on his ring finger.
But I couldn't have just skipped out on this trip, non-refundable tickets and I won't get time off like this for another year, Chris thought to himself. He slugged back the rest of his drink and set it down on the counter as he looked around. It was convenient that he was able to go during the fall, this was the off-season for Hawaiian resorts so he not only got a good deal on rooms, but also there were far less vacationing families with squawking children to worry about. He could get well and truly drunk without judging eyes, and if he managed to get anywhere near sober before he got on the plane back to Austin, he would have failed in his mission. As he considered his next drink choice, he felt the presence of someone behind him.
"Sorry, this chair free?" Chris turned slightly to see who this stranger was. A young man, couldn't have been any more than 30, with sandy blonde hair and a slim build. He was wearing a pair of swim trunks and nothing more, a light dusting of hair on his stomach that trailed down below his waistline. He must have been at the resort for a while now, his tan was even and seemed to cover all his skin.
"Naw, go ahead." Chris replied.
"Thanks, it's the only seat in the shade. I probably go enough sun today, don't you think?"
"Yeah, I suppose. Looks like you did ok."
Chris wasn't particularly in the mood for conversation, but there was something about this guy. Chris couldn't quite place it, but he felt comfortable chatting with this stranger. But maybe it was just the booze.
"Heh, it's been nice just relaxing, not worrying about anything more taxing than an even tan!"
Chris couldn't help but chuckled. "Yeah, I could really use some of that. It was supposed to be a getaway for me and my wife..." The liquor loosening his tongue, Chris explained the whole situation to the stranger, who was a perfect audience. When he got to the part where his wife had been withholding sex as a power play, he realized that he had been babbling.
"Damn, sorry... I didn't mean to chew your ear off." Chris apologized.
"Naw, don't be. Sounds like you've had a rough time of it. But it seems to me that we could definitely use a drink, don't you think?" He flagged down a bartender and ordered them both a shot of rum. "When in Rome, right?" He said as he offered one of the shot glasses of the amber liquid.
"Thanks, much appreciated." Chris knocked back the rum and coughed slightly. "You know, I don't think I actually got your name. I sorta just railroaded you into listening to my sob story."
"No worries, gotta get it off your chest somehow, right? I'm Devan, good to know you." Devan leaned over with his hand outstretched. Chris grasped it for a firm handshake, only to notice that Devan briefly rubbed his thumb against his hand. It was strange, it seemed... intimate, almost romantic. Chris had never thought of men in that manner, but something about Devan's firm, yet gentle grasp sent Chris' mind to forbidden places he'd never dared to go.
He looked at Devan again with new eyes. His tan skin had a slight sheen of sweat that rolled down his well formed muscles. His eyes were piercing, his hair soft and smooth. Chris shook his head a little and realized he was still holding Devan's hand. He let go and cleared his throat.
"Woops, sorry. Guess I'm a little drunker 'n I thought." Chris was suddenly self conscious, Devan was a good looking man, and Chris considered himself pretty average. His wife said he had a kind smile, and the mornings at the office gym were keeping him in good shape, but Devan seemed to be cut from a more perfect cloth. Chris kept trying to force those thoughts away. He was just drunk, that's all. Chris stood up quickly, swaying slightly as he abruptly excused himself.
"See you around!" Devan said as Chris staggered back to his empty suite. He fumbled with the keycard as his mind sluggishly tried to process what just happened. Clearly he was just wasted. That was the whole point! But what the fuck was he doing thinking about Devan? That wasn't him, not at all. It wasn't until he was back within the solitude of his room that he realized his cock was as hard as a steel rod.
It's just because I've been so long without getting laid, he thought to himself, of course anyone touching me would set me off! Hell, a strong breeze would've done it. His shaft was pulsing gently to his heartbeat, Chris knew he needed to take care of it or else he'd be sporting wood all day.
Chris pulled down his shorts, his cock flipping up and slapping his pelvis. He took a moment to consider his piece of meat. A hair over 7 inches, with a circumsized mushroom head that was an angry red with arousal. He gently grasped his throbbing cock and began to gently tug as he tried to imagine some slut bobbing her mouth on his cock. But inexplicably, the face kept changing to Devan. His lips looked so soft, like they were made to slurp and slobber on a thick dick. And for some reason that made Chris stroke his cock faster and faster, moaning as he felt his cum begin to boil in his sweaty sack. He brought his left hand up to pinch his nipples, which were always very sensitive, as his right furiously pounded up and down on his cock.
His mind suddenly switched positions, and he saw himself kneeling down, engulfing Devan's cock in his own mouth. The image pushed him over the edge as his cock spasmed, shooting a stream of thick white cum into the air as Chris gasped and moaned. He kept pumping his cock as rope after rope of hot jizz came gushing out of his cock. After he shot five times, his cum blast slowed to just a couple tremulous dribbles as Chris began to catch his breath. That was the most intense orgasm he'd had in years, and some dark part of him knew that it wasn't just the frustration of not having sex for a while that was the cause. But he pushed aside the thought as he grabbed a sheet to wipe himself down. His lower torso was dripping with spent cum, and the room had developed a musky odor from the primal exhibition of sexuality.
Once he had mopped up the majority of his jizz, Chris flopped down on the bed. What the hell is going on, he wondered?This was clearly a one-off, brought on by the Hawaiian heat and too much alcohol. He'll sleep it off and get on with enjoying his vacation tomorrow. Feeling better now that he had a plan, albeit a weak one, he fell asleep almost instantly; the faintest stench of sweat and cum still lingering in the air.
Bent over a table, moaning and jerking his cock, Chris was overwhelmed with sensation. How could this not have happened before? Why had he waited so long to get fucked in the ass? It was amazing! He turned over to get a better look at the man fucking him so fiercely, only to see his own face looking back at him in the throes of an orgasm.
Chris opened his eyes and groggily looked around. He was in his room, laying sideways on his bed. His sheets were tangled around his body, and his cock stood proudly at full mast, like a tree rising out of a snowy meadow. He idly stroked himself as he rolled out of bed and looked himself over in the mirror. The dream he had was slipping away, but the feelings he had during it were still ingrained on his psyche. Whatever it was, it must have been pretty hot. Chris was rock hard.
