Oh the Zumanity!

She’d seen the show once already and after the second time she offered the following assessment.

“I enjoyed seeing Zumanity with a girlfriend. I’ve now enjoyed seeing it with a gay friend. But if I’m going to see an entire Cirque de Soliel production around sex and the sensual I’d really like to see it next with a boyfriend!”

Her companion laughed with her as they made their way through the streets of Vegas searching for the turn off the Strip that would be the first in their weaving their way back to the gay hotel and resort where they were staying for one night of their four-day road trip from Texas to California.

They had covered some miles in the last few days and seen some sights as they stayed along Route 66 with some intentionality. Cadillac Ranch outside Amarillo had been fun though windy. The idea of 10 Cadillacs plunged nose first into the earth and lined up in an open field as an open invitation to graffiti artists pleased her. A few cheesey tourist trinkets purchased at the Route’s midpoint weren’t that big a pull from her pocket. The reminder that Santa Fe was both a tourist destination and an artist haven made her smile. And, the stop in Winslow, AZ to stand on the corner with the “girl my Lord, in a flatbed Ford” slowing down in the painted mural made her giddy. The corniness of it all was overshadowed by the ingenuity of the folks who had awakened a sleepy little town by cashing in on their 15 minutes of fame from a 70s ballad.

She’d looked forward to Vegas primarily because they were going to stay a few more hours there than elsewhere and she secretly harbored the gambler’s impulse that said this time she might actually win big. She didn’t. But she had fun with her cheap little slots game based on Alien and $12 wasn’t that high a price to pay to remind herself that gambling was in her blood but not in her favor.

The show was her companion’s selection. Returning didn’t bother her though because she was currently engaged in writing erotica and thought she might find some inspiration.

She had.

She liked the changes they had made since her last viewing. The comic relief was a tad more understandable since on this evening they were using a Brooklyn-esque accented blonde reminiscent of the 50s rather than the French lounge lizard she’d heard last time. She still found the girls swimming in the giant martini glass sensual, the contortionist impossible to watch, and the beautiful black men dancing arousing. She noticed the black woman dressed in tribal attire this time more than last. And she found the tension between the man and woman acrobats who were supposed to be engaging in sex without having her feet ever touch the ground while he tossed and toppled her less than believable.

But the show was good. And the aftermath even better.

She had agreed to the hotel because her friend was good enough to travel with her on this journey west so that she could discover whether her writing would ever be profitable. He was making the outward trek and she’d return with other friends in a few weeks. Since he was on vacation, she wanted it to be a fun one.

He really wasn’t cruising at the clothes optional pool and hot tub that was one of the acclaimed features of the just off the strip resort. But he wasn’t turning a blind eye either. She wasn’t there to watch, having thought that he might want some time away from her given that they’d already had several days of one on one car time. So she was somewhat surprised when the phone in the room they were sharing rang with him on the other end.

“Ok . . . definitely not what I expected,” he started without a hello.

“Details?”

“I’m in the tub. I make polite conversation with a couple of couples but they are into being couples so I back off. I’m considering coming back to the room since it’s been a long day when this beefy guy with close-cropped silver hair makes his way to the tub.”

“Oooh, just like you like them. Go on.”

“Exactly. And he starts with all the usual stuff. Why I’m here, what we’re doing, why you/we’re doing it, etc. I find out he’s from Manhattan and in town early for a convention. And then . . . “

“And then better be getting to the good stuff,” she offered with mock impatience.

“And then he came back to the fact that you were with me.”

“He did? What kind of gay guy is he?”

“That’s just it. He says he’s sexual, not cultural and chose this place just to see what he could encounter.”

“And now he thinks he’s encountered us, right? Uh, did you mention we’ve known each other for years and we don’t . . . haven’t . . . gone THERE before or ever????” she prompted.

“Of course, I did. But that’s when he mentioned that maybe I should call you. I told him you were a writer and he says he thinks you might enjoy the research.”

“What do you think?” she inquired of her longtime friend who she had never once imagined in a sexual way . . . well, at least not after she found out he was gay more than a decade ago.

“I think . . . I think . . . I think he’s cute.”
“Well, of course you would,” she laughed. “I think it could be amusing, but it’s your call. You decide. If I hear a knock at the door in a few minutes, I’ll know what you decided. Meanwhile, I’m pouring a drink from the mini bar!”

“Ok . . . you’ll know soon enough.”

She put the computer away and made a vodka tonic before just checking the day’s damage on her makeup and hair. She wasn’t going to win any contests but the lights dimmed and she wasn’t thinking she was going to be the focus of anyone’s attention.

The knock came a few minutes later.

She opened the door and before her stood two handsome men in their early 50s. Both were in fine shape – flat stomachs and arms they obviously spent time on in the gym. Both had silver hair – her friend sporting only flecks, their guest showing little signs of anything else. They were wrapped in the towels from the pool area and reminded her of two penitent school boys wondering if they were in trouble after acting up in class.

“Do come in, gentlemen,” she stood back to allow them to make their way through the small foyer. “Obviously, I’m Casey. And you are?” she held out her hand and he shook it firmly.

“I’m Michael,” he said, looking around the room in what appeared to be an initial assessment of their housekeeping.

She chuckled. “I see you’re the curious type. ‘See anything you like?’ sounds like a pick up line and since that doesn’t appear to be necessary, I’m wondering how to respond to your thorough examination of our room!”

“Sorry, habit of the job and hard to contain. I’m a cop,” he explained.

“A fact my friend John failed to mention!” she pretended to chide her cohort and he took it well as he moved toward the mini bar to fix a couple of new drinks.

“Actually, I was a cop and now I do mostly PR type projects. That’s why I’m here. There’s some training on communicating with various audiences that my boss thought I could benefit from and I thought I could benefit from a weekend in Vegas so it was a win/win you might say.”

“I’ll let you know,” she almost mumbled.

John interrupted and handed the drink to Michael. “Do folks call you Mike? Or are you always more formal?”

“Formality has never been my forte but I am always Michael. I like the sound of it.”

“As do I,” noted John.

The room was silent for a moment until John turned on the stereo and Casey offered their guest one of the two leather-esque chairs in the sitting area of their small suite.

“These towels are becoming cumbersome,” Michael noted as he tightened the knot for at least the third time since he’d entered the room.

“Indeed they are,” John agreed. And, again, the silence fell.

“Ok, guys, this is awkward. How do we . . . uh . . . get this started? I’m not new to a bit of a crowd when it comes to sex but I am new to sharing time with a friend like John. I know what I’d like but I have no idea what you guys are expecting.”

“Expecting? I hadn’t gotten passed getting off the elevator and making our way to the door!” John laughed at the chance to relax even slightly.

“Yeah,” Michael said. “I guess I’m in the same spot. I hadn’t really thought it through . . . just thought it might be interesting.”

“Well . . . if I’m the only one with a plan I will at least throw it out for you guys to shoot it down if you don’t like it,” Casey said. “I want to watch.”

“You do?” John looked a bit surprised.

“I do. I want to be close enough to touch and be welcomed if I do, but I really don’t want that much attention. I prefer to see how you two enjoy one another. I think that would provide me immense amounts of pleasure . . . and fodder for a future story,” she nodded in Michael’s direction since he was the one who had initially suggested the “research” idea.

Michael looked and John with a nod of his head. John agreed. And, after John announced, “1, 2, 3!” they both yanked their towels away to reveal – swimming trunks.

Casey started to gasp and then laughed loudly at their silliness. John walked toward Michael and pulled him from the chair. They stood silently before one another with each seemingly tracing the other’s outline with their hands. They moved from shoulders, to arms to ass, and then returned to shoulders. John reached over and with a hand behind Michael’s neck kissed him full on the lips.

Casey smiled. She remembered the first time she’d seen her friend kiss another man very clearly. She also remembered her initial reaction -- which was to look away. Now she couldn’t pull her eyes away. She thought that she was witnessing something very beautiful – a kiss for pleasure, both theirs and hers. She found herself very grateful for the moment.

John continued to take the lead, she observed. He took Michael to the bed and grabbed her hand as well as they crawled into the center of the king sized mattress. John kissed Casey’s palm and then let go, leaving her to her vantage point as he moved toward Michael with yet another kiss but this one held much more hunger.

Michael seemed to be open to the versatile role and John apparently enjoyed being the aggressor so Casey watched in fascination as her shy buddy emerged into the stage director she knew him to be. He was an award winner in his field of technical productions and the take-charge attitude she’d witnessed on the few times she’d visited one of his sets was in full directorial mode.

He started by removing Michael’s trunks. Michael began to assist him and then moved toward helping John. John dismissed his efforts with a sweep of his hand and almost seemed to lose them in one long gesture. Then he focused on the now erect cock between Michael’s tree-trunk like limbs. First he rubbed it, up and down, up and down. Then he bent to take it in his mouth.

Casey found it difficult to determine if she was in a note-taking mindset or one of just sheer pleasure. She decided to opt for pleasure and began to touch herself as the men appeared to be setting the stage for the later action.

Michael moaned a pleased response to John’s initial efforts and then opened his eyes wide when John stopped and grabbed Michael’s hand to place it on the base of John’s own penis. Michael appeared to adjust his thinking for only minutes and then reciprocated the actions that John had just performed on him. When Michael’s mouth came down around the head of John’s dick, Casey caught the gasp before she uttered it. She was amazed at how much it aroused her. She pressed into her clit with more force and rubbed more vigorously.

Michael was obviously not a novice. He concentrated on his task with total absorption. John seemed pleased with the result. He grabbed the nape of Michael’s neck and massaged. Michael picked up the pace. His lips were wet and his stroking of John’s balls had moved into heavy duty pushing and pulling when John pulled him away and quickly turned him over. Casey had planned ahead a bit more than the boys had known and John smiled as he grabbed the massage oil that Casey used on her friends when she offered freebies. He poured from the bottle directly on his very firm and (Casey noted for research purposes only of course) very long, thick penis before slowly entering Michael’s ass.

He was on his knees with Michael belly down when he began to lower himself. Casey almost wanted to lie next to Michael to improve her view but caught herself as she figured she’d be an intrusion. Instead, she positioned herself about a foot away and on her side continued to please herself. She couldn’t see John completely but she could see Michael’s face and she especially noted the changes in expression he was conjuring as John continued to penetrate. First pain, followed almost immediately by a look of contentment as Casey imagined he’d now recognized the first signs of fullness in having all of John inside him. As John began to move in and out with growing intensity in his thrusts, Casey saw something she’d heard about but never actually witnessed before. (Of course, she’d never actually witnessed ANY of what she was seeing but this was particularly enlightening. John had obviously hit Michael’s spot. She imagined it much like the elusive g-spot on her own body but John was now alert but not to her, to his own body. His eyes were open but he wasn’t seeing. He was absorbed in the sensations.

John was lost as well. He was on his arms and pumping as Michael raised his butt even higher. They were dancing on the bed and Casey smiled as she realized it was to the music. She had paused in her own pleasure, caught up in the incredible scene of body on body, connected and filling the empty spaces, skin almost attached to skin as though there were no longer two separate entities before her.

John was the master at this point. All action waited his command and he was apparently near the crescendo of the dance when he stopped mid thrust and uttering a barely audible, “Yes,” came hard. Casey thought she saw and wondered if she’d only imagined the mimicked rhythm of his coming in the squeezes of Michael’s ass. When John was spent, Michael said firmly but yet still in the form of a request, “Stay.”

John leaned forward and rested atop Michael allowing his full weight to be felt. Michael sighed.

In a few moments, John rolled over and turned Michael. He didn’t say a word but smiled as he looked into the other man’s face and taking Michael’s still firm cock massaged, pulled and lightly slapping it back and forth, worked Michael into his own orgasm.

Casey stopped watching the gentle play to take herself to the point of coming. Eyes closed, she was unaware that the two men were watching her as she thrust her hips slightly into the air and quietly breathed in. When she came back to the sense of time and place, they were both smiling at her.

John took her hand and pulled her close. Michael began to rub her shoulders. She, in turn, grabbed the first thing she could locate and realized quickly she once again, as in numerous Sunday afternoons before when they had watched tv together and analyzed the quality or lack thereof of the programming, had John’s foot in her hands and was kneading the tension away. They all laughed and continued the quiet rubdowns until all had fallen softly to sleep.

When Casey awoke in a few hours, she stirred and Michael did as well. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, pulled himself away from the tangle of legs and arms and stood beside the bed.

“Thank him for me?” he mouthed.

Casey nodded and returned to slumber as Michael let himself out the door.