Palm Springs Morning Wood

Straight Guy Likes His Butt Licked

The sun beat down on the Palm Springs landscape as Marcus and I pulled up to the guest house we'd rented for the week. I'm Alex, by the way - a photographer in my early thirties, openly gay, and perpetually single. Marcus, my companion for this trip, was the kind of man who made my gaydar malfunction. He claimed to be straight, but his flirtatious nature had always left me wondering.

"Fuck, it's hot out here," Marcus grunted, hauling his duffel bag from the trunk. At 6'3" and about 250 pounds, he was still carrying the bulk from his college football days as a linebacker. His thick frame strained against his t-shirt, and I couldn't help but admire the way his muscles shifted as he moved.

"That's why they call it the desert, genius," I teased, grabbing my camera bag. "You'd think a Georgia boy like you would be used to heat."

"This ain't Georgia heat," Marcus laughed, wiping sweat from his brow. "This is like Satan's asshole."

We checked into our rental, a stylish mid-century modern guest house with stunning views of the mountains. The only problem? There was just one bedroom with two twin beds pushed against opposite walls.

"Well, this is cozy," I said, dropping my bag on the bed nearest the window.

Marcus shrugged. "It's fine. We're both adults. Plus, we've crashed together before."

True enough, but never in such close quarters for an entire week. I tried to ignore the little thrill that ran through me at the thought of sleeping just a few feet from him.

The first two days passed in a blur of venue scouting and photography work. Marcus was surprisingly helpful, holding reflectors and offering his opinion on lighting. At night, we'd hit the town, sampling the local gay bars despite Marcus's insistence that he was "just there for the drinks."

On the third morning, I woke up slowly, the desert sun already streaming through the blinds. I stretched, feeling the warmth of the covers, when I noticed a movement across the room.

Marcus was kneeling on his bed, completely naked, his back to me. His muscular frame was even more impressive in the morning light, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, with powerful thighs spread apart. One of his hands was moving steadily between his legs, and I realized with a jolt that he was jerking off.

I watched for a moment, my breath catching in my throat. The rhythmic motion of his arm, the flex of his biceps, the slight sway of his heavy balls as he worked himself up - it was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen.

"Hey, what's up?" I said, my voice huskier than I intended.

Marcus froze, his head whipping around. A flush crept up his neck, but he didn't stop moving his hand. "Shit, sorry man. Didn't mean to wake you."

"No worries," I said, propping myself up on my elbow. "Long night?"

He nodded, his breathing growing heavier. "It's been three days since I've jerked off, and I'm really horny." His eyes met mine, and for the first time, I saw something other than casual friendship in them. "I was just wondering if I could straddle your face and let you lick my nuts, just as a friend, nothing attached. I've never done anything like this before, but since we're out of town, it just seems like you could help me out."

I could barely form a response, just nodded my head.

Before I knew it, Marcus was crossing the small space between our beds, his thick cock bobbing with each step. He climbed onto my bed, straddling my chest, his heavy balls hanging just above my face.

"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

I nodded again, unable to speak.

He lowered himself, and I extended my tongue to meet his sac. The salty taste of his skin filled my mouth as I gently lapped at his balls, first one, then the other. Marcus groaned above me, his hand moving faster on his cock.

"Fuck, that feels good," he muttered, his eyes closed. I wondered if he was imagining some girl from back home, or if he was truly present with me in this moment.

His hips began to rock, pressing his balls more firmly against my face. I took them into my mouth, rolling them with my tongue, savoring the weight of them on my tongue. Marcus's breath hitched, and his hand stilled on his cock.

"Don't stop," he groaned. "Please don't stop."

I redoubled my efforts, sucking gently at first, then more firmly. Marcus began to thrust his hips, fucking my mouth with his balls. One of his hands found the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair as he guided me.

"That's it," he panted. "Just like that."

I could feel his muscles tensing, his thighs pressing against my shoulders. He was close. I worked harder, my tongue dancing across his sensitive skin, my mouth watering at the taste of him.

Suddenly, Marcus shifted, lifting his hips slightly. His ass was now directly above my face, and I could see his tight hole, puckered and inviting. He didn't need to say a word - I knew what he wanted.

I extended my tongue, tracing the rim of his ass. Marcus gasped, his body shuddering above me. I pressed deeper, my tongue probing his entrance, tasting the slightly bitter flavor of his most private place.

"Fuck!" Marcus cried out, his hand tightening in my hair. "Right there! Don't stop!"

I obliged, my tongue working his hole with renewed vigor. I could feel him tensing, his breath coming in ragged pants. His hand flew back to his cock, stroking frantically as I ate his ass.

"Alex," he groaned, and the sound of my name on his lips sent a thrill through me. "Alex, I'm gonna cum!"

I pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face as he found his release. With a guttural cry, he came, thick streams of white shooting from his cock and landing on my chest and stomach. The sight of him lost in pleasure, his head thrown back, his muscles straining - it was almost enough to make me cum untouched.

When he was spent, Marcus collapsed beside me, his chest heaving. We lay there in silence for a moment, the only sound our ragged breathing.

"Fuck," he said finally, turning to look at me. "I've never... I mean, with a guy..."

I smiled, wiping his cum from my chest with my fingers. "There's a first time for everything."

He watched me, his expression unreadable. Then, to my surprise, he leaned in and kissed me, his lips soft against mine. It was brief, tentative, but it sent a jolt straight to my groin.

"Thank you," he whispered against my mouth.

"Any time," I replied, and I meant it.

As we lay there in the aftermath, I couldn't help but wonder what the rest of our week in Palm Springs might bring. Whatever it was, I had a feeling it was going to be unforgettable.