September in Southern California is often the hottest month of the year, easily outstripping July and August. The sky can be devoid of clouds with the start of the rainy season still a couple of months in the future. The heat will be dry, any wind coming off the Mojave Desert.

When Ralph Winchester was born in Meridian, Idaho his mother and father called him “Ralphie”. When his two-year-old brother repeated his name it came out sounding like “Rifle”. And so it was that little Ralphie was given the nickname which had stuck with him for all of his twenty-eight years.

Fresh out of high school Rifle Winchester joined the Marines. His finishing of boot camp coincided with President Obama’s order to send 30,000 more troops to Afghanistan.

He served in the field artillery in the fight to free Helmand Province from the Taliban and spent the next four years in the mostly futile struggle despite several drawdowns of troops.

Finally, at the end of 2014, he came home, only to reenlist for another four years. And this time he ended up in Iraq to back up the Iraqi army in their battle to push ISIS out of the city of Mosul.

Later incursions into Syria were followed by ostensibly training Iraqis. Three years of service earned him the privilege of returning to the States to finish out his service time in relative peace.

It was on the hot, dry Tuesday after Labor Day when Cpl. “Rifle” Winchester was discharged from the Marines Corps at Camp Pendleton. He got a ride into Oceanside and from there took a Greyhound bus to National City, just south of San Diego. With his duffle bag slung over his shoulder he hiked to the renowned Mile of Cars.

Rifle was anxious to get back to Meridian, Idaho and to Teri. He’d promised her that if she’d wait for him they’d be married on whatever date she set. He felt he’d get a much better deal on a car in California and it would be the best way to travel home.

For hours he trudged from lot to lot, some of which covered the entire block. He resisted the come-on of experienced salesmen. He questioned certain details of supposedly generous offers. He test drove a few of the cars he considered and doubled back for a second look at a couple of the more promising.

The day was coming to an end by the time Rifle had decided on which car both met his needs and was available for the amount of cash he had stuffed in the front pocket of his pants. Papers were signed and keys handed over and Rifle drove off the lot and headed for Idaho.

Rifle knew he wanted to avoid the heaviest freeway traffic and had no intention of going through Las Vegas. He opted on taking the I-8 east to El Centro and then the desert route north, past the Salton Sea joining up with the I-15 just past Vegas.

He’d stay on the I-15 past the Great Salt Lake and then turn off on the I-84 and on into Boise and home to Meridian. The setting sun was reflected in his rear view mirror when he got on the I-8. The excitement of having his own car and heading for home diverted him from realizing that he was exhausted.

Night came on quickly and oncoming headlights began to bother his eyes. The long distances between the few towns in the desert breaking the darkness made concentration difficult. Radio stations faded into quietness or static. Occasionally he’d pick up a station hundreds of miles away.

After more than two hours Rifle concluded he’d made a misjudgment and he would be foolish to try pressing on. He needed sleep and not just a nap at the side of the road. He got off the state road 86 and found he was in Palm Springs. It suddenly dawned on him he was famished. He hadn’t eaten since the breakfast he’d eaten in Oceanside that morning.

He pulled into an In-N-Out Burger and ordered. He ate sitting in his car, wondering if he could find a place he could afford in this famous town for rich people.

When he finished he slowly drove around looking for a place that looked cheap but clean and decent. He passed a street and a neon sign caught his attention. He backed up and turned into the street and drove down the block.

He pulled into the parking area beside the Pink Flamingo Motel. There were three cars in the lot and everything appeared to be quiet. He got out and went into the office. A small, baldheaded man pushed aside the curtain that hung over a door behind the counter.

“Do you have a room for the night?” Rifle asked.

The little man squinted at him. “For how many?” he asked.

“Just me,” Rifle said.

The man handed Rifle a printed form and Rifle filled it in. The man took it and only gave it a glance to see if there were any blanks. He told Rifle the price and that checkout time was at eleven in the morning. Rifle counted out the money and took the key. He got his duffle bag out of the trunk of the car and clicked the lock on the car-key fob.

He found the room and went in, hitting the light switch by the door. An overhead fluorescent light came on. He shielded his eyes and took in the room. It wasn’t luxurious but it wasn’t at all half-bad. There was a lamp on the bedside table and he turned it on and then shut the overhead light off.

Dropping his duffle bag of the lone chair in the room he sat on the bed. It didn’t sag, which was a good sign. He turned the air conditioner on and set it on high to dispel the suffocating heat. He checked out the bathroom and it was clean with a wall rack holding a small pile of white bath and face towels and a couple of washcloths.

He turned on the faucet in the washbasin and held his hand under it. In a few minutes, the water was hot. He went back into the main room and stripped out of his clothes. After getting fresh underwear and his dop kit out of his duffle bag he got in the shower and washed the day's grime from his muscled body.

He stood under the deluge of warm water longer than usual, feeling the needle jets of water massage his back and neck. When he got out he dried off and brushed his teeth. After putting on his clean underwear he pulled the bedspread off the bed and tossed it on the back of the chair.

The room was much cooler so he turned the air conditioner down a couple of notches and climbed under the sheet. In minutes he was deeply asleep.

Rifle had neglected to set the alarm on his cell phone and didn’t wake up until much later than he’d planned to get up. He dressed in a pair of fatigues tucked into his high-top lace-ups and a Marine issue undershirt. He remembered he’d seen a sign when he checked in about free coffee.

When he stepped out of his room the heat hit him full force. It jerked him back to those days he’d spent in both Afghanistan and Iraq. In the office, he found coffee and a couple of sweet rolls.

A woman came through the curtained door. “I see you got the last of the rolls. You’re lucky there’s any left. They don’t last long.”

Rifle only thought to say, “Thanks.”

“You stayin’ another night?” she asked.

“No, I gotta get goin’,” he answered.

She pointed at the wall clock, “You done overstayed checkout time. Gotta pay another night, might as well stay.”

Rifle looked at the clock in disbelief. “Shit,” he exclaimed, then added, “Excuse me.”

He hadn’t realized it was that late. How could he have been so stupid? He had a fourteen-hour drive ahead of him and he should have been on the road at least three hours ago. He took a sip of his coffee.

“Tell you what,” the woman said. “Since you’re military I’ll give you a thirty- percent discount. Your gettin’ a good deal. Rates dropped after Labor Day, so’s you already saved a bunch.”

Rifle paid for the next night but hadn’t decided to stay. He threw his empty coffee cup in the trashcan by the door and went back out into the heat. He then noticed there was a wooden fence higher than his head that had a door with a sign that read, “POOL”. In smaller letters, it read, “Keep Door Closed”.

He went over and swung the door open and stepped through. There was a free-form pool in the center of the patio. Surrounding the pool were a dozen plastic-webbed chaise-lounges. Tropical plants backed them up.

On the opposite side of the pool, there were two men. The outstanding thing was that they were both naked; one of them was bent forward with his hands on his knees and the bigger one was standing close behind him with his hands on the first man’s hips.

It took a minute for Rifle to understand what was going on. The big guy was fucking the smaller one in the ass in plain sight of anyone who came through the gate. Rifle stood rooted where he stood but diverted his gaze. He became aware of another guy sitting at the other end of the pool. He was submerged up to his waist.

He signaled Rifle to come his way. Rifle’s senses came back to him and with a quick glance at the two guys fucking, he went toward the signaling man. As he drew nearer he observed that this guy was built like a brick shithouse. He obviously had spent hours lifting weights.

When he got to within a few feet he also saw that he wasn’t wearing a bathing suit. Even though he’d seen dozens of his fellow marines naked, it was somehow different here in the pool area of a public motel. His thick neck supported a head topped with curly blond hair and a face much like the kind Greeks sculpted in marble.

The guy struck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Zan.”

“Zan?” Rifle repeated, not sure he’d gotten it right.

“Yeah, short for Zandor,” he said as if that cleared things up. “You?”

Rifle grasped the outstruck hand. “Rifle. Glad to meet you.”

“Rifle? Like bang, bang?” Zan asked.

“Yeah,” Rifle said, never bothering to explain it was a nickname.

He squatted down and glanced across the pool again. “What kind of place is this?”

Zan followed his gaze and looked back at Rifle with an amused smile.

“You didn’t know that you were checking into a bathing suit optional motel? That’s why most of the guys come here.”

“Well, no. I just needed a place to bed down. But bathing suit or not, that’s no excuse for a show like that, is it?” Rifle looked back at Zan, trying not to look below the water line.

Zan’s smile widened. “Different strokes for different folks. But she just never gets enough.”

Rifle looked at Zan with a frown. “She? Who?”

Zan flicked his finger in the direction of the two guys across the pool.

“Rich the bitch. The one with the cock up her ass.”

The use of the feminine pronoun had thrown Rifle off, but he figured it out.

Zan continued. “Management tries to discourage such behavior when the place is full like it was over the weekend, but now that everybody’s gone they don’t pay much attention.”

Rifle shook his head. “What about if a female guest decided to take a dip?”

Zan squinted at him. “You aren’t gay, are you?”

Rifle’s face showed slight shock. “Hell, no! Why would you ask me that?”

Zan chuckled. “You do know you’re in a gay motel, don’t you?”

Rifle’s eyes widened. “Nooo. Wait, are you…?”

He didn’t need to finish the question. Zan spread his arms, palms up as if to say, ‘What do you see?’.

He watched in amusement as Rifle looked at the activity on the opposite side of the pool.

“You know,” Zan said in a low voice, “you don’t have to be gay to take advantage when something’s offered to you.”

Rifle turned his gaze back to Zan. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s get real,” Zan said. “From here I can plainly see that all this has your cock standing at attention. I bet you’ve been somewhere where you haven’t had sex in months.”

Rifle shifted his position vainly trying to conceal the tenting of his fatigues. Without intending to answer Zan he sort of whistled out, “Months. Huh!”

“So, you’re hot to trot. You’re low fruit, ripe. A good-looking stud like you would have had your pick of the lot if you’d been here over the weekend. Hell, you would’ve been fighting them off.”

Zan paused to see what Rifle’s reaction would be, but he just stared at Zan with no change of expression.

“But lucky me, they’ve all gone and here I am.” Zan smiled.

Rifle’s legs had grown tired and he switched from a squat to kneeling. Zan looked down at his crotch and pursed his lips.

He reached out and took the outline of Rifle’s firm cock in his hand.

“You’d be surprised what I could do to this.”

Caught off guard, Rifle lost balance and fell backward, landing on his butt with his knees spread. Embarrassed, he looked around and realized the two guys fucking had disappeared. Zan picked up on the fact they were alone.

“It’s hot as hell out here. Your shirt is soaked under your arms. Get in the pool, why don’t you?”

“No suit,” Rifle mumbled.

“Really,” Zan said, showing exasperation. “Have you heard anything I said?”

Rifle looked at him for a minute and began unlacing his high-tops. He pulled them and his socks off followed by his undershirt. While Zan watched him he shed his pants and undershorts.

He stood up when he was nude and Zan let out a long whistle. Rifle dove into the pool and swam underwater to the other side. He surfaced there and swam back. When he was about six feet from where Zan sat he rolled over onto his back. His cock had gone soft and now bobbed up and down in the water. Zan shook his head slowly.

“You know, my friend, that’s a beautiful piece of meat. Why let it go to waste? Why not let me get you off? I bet I can give you one of the best blowjobs you’ve ever had.”

Rifle had to smile. “Believe it or not, I’ve never had a blowjob. The girls I knew didn’t do such things.”

“S-h-i-t,” Zan drew out. “You gotta be kiddin’. If you’d shown the lot here that cock they’d’ve been fighting over who got it first. And if I’d been there not one of ‘em would’ve stood a chance.”

Rifle raised his head and looked at his cock. He took the base of it in his hand and flopped it, splashing the water. Zan slipped off the steps he’d been sitting on and swam over to Rifle.

“Need help?” he asked.

Rifle let go of his cock and put both hands behind his head. Zan took that as an invitation and took Rifle’s semi-erect cock in his hand. He looked at Rifle’s face and saw his eyes were closed. He bent his head over and took all of Rifle’s cock in his mouth.

Rifle’s reaction was to suddenly try to resume an upright position, taking Zan underwater with his cock still in his mouth. He clasped Rifle’s hips and pressed his face against his lower stomach. Rifle’s cock quickly grew hard but he reached down and grabbed Zan’s arm and pulled him up.

Zan emerged with a big smile on his face. Rifle slowly shook his head.

“Crazy son-of-a-bitch,” he said, but couldn’t resist smiling.

He swam over to the edge of the pool and hoisted himself up and out of the pool, turning and sitting on the edge, his cock sticking straight out. Zan was treading water as the two of them looked at each other.

Slowly Zan swam toward Rifle. When he got to him he grasped the rim of the pool with a hand on each side of Rifle’s ass. He looked up at Rifle. Rifle met his gaze and then looked down at his stiff cock.

Still holding on to the edge of the pool Zan moved between Rifle’s knees and took the head of Rifle’s cock in his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the glans several times and then moved his head forward forcing Rifle’s cock into his mouth and partly down his throat.

He remained where he was for a few long seconds before drawing his head back, making a suction as he came. He massaged the head with his tongue again and repeated the forward and backward motion. He did that one more time and then began going back and forth quicker. With each passage, he used the flat of his tongue to stimulate Rifle’s cock.

Rifle watched his cock going in and out of Zan’s pursed lips. For a reason he couldn’t have explained, he was trying to keep himself as an observer and no more, but it was useless. He grabbed Zan’s head and took over guiding his head, increasing the speed.

It had been a couple of weeks since Rifle had last masturbated and he hadn’t realized how horny he was. When he felt his balls contract and the cum shoot up and out of his cock he shut his eyes tightly as the sensation was so intense it almost hurt.

He held Zan’s head tightly with his cock filling his mouth so it was difficult for him to swallow, forcing some of his cum to spurt out of his mouth.

“Sorry,” Rifle gasped. He’d unknowingly been holding his breath throughout his climax. He let go of Zan’s head so that he could slowly draw his head back. He let Rifle’s cock slip from his mouth but immediately took it back in.

He went up and down a couple of times and then let it go again, but licked it all over to glean any residual cum. He then took it in his hand and kissed it several times. Rifle pushed him back and slid off the edge of the pool and back into the water.

He swam in a wide circle and came back to where Zan was standing.

“I haven’t eaten anything today and I’m starving. Think I’ll go get a bite. Recommend any place?”

Zan was pleased with the reaction he was getting. “The Sandwich Spot, Bill’s Pizza and if you want Mexican, Loco Charlie's can’t be beat. Cheap, too.”

Rifle paddled to the steps and got out of the pool. He pulled on his pants and picked everything else up, tucking it under his arm.

He gave Zan a slight wave and saying, “Thanks. See ya,” he turned and went to the gate where he’d entered an hour before.

As soon as he’d shut the gate behind him he began jumping from foot to foot because the pavement was stinging hot. He dashed to his room, unlocked the door and jumped in. After he threw his things on the bed he headed for the shower and took a long one, trying to wash away thoughts about what had just happened.

Amazingly, he’d just had his first ever blowjob. Just as amazingly, but in a different way, he’d had his first homosexual sex. That one was harder to explain to himself. It seemed easier to try to put it out of his mind.

On his way back from lunch he was sure the heat had jumped up ten degrees. He thought he’d left his living with this kind of weather when he returned to the United States. When he went into his room he cranked the air conditioner up to the max. There wasn’t anything to do but wait for the afternoon to pass by. He regretted that he hadn’t continued his journey home to Idaho that morning.

He turned on the TV and lay on the bed, flicking from channel to channel. A half hour later there was a knock on his door. Curious, he opened the door to find the smaller of the morning’s poolside performers.

“Hi,” he said. “You’re Winchester, aren’t you? That’s when they said in the office. I’m Rich. Can I come in?”

He held up two bottles of beer, condensation dripping off them. Rifle widened the door and stepped back. Rich stepped in and kicked one foot back, sending the door slamming shut.

“Well,” he started, looking around, “It isn’t hot in here. Maybe you don’t want a cold beer.”

Rifle turned to the air conditioner and turned it down a couple of notches. “When I got back I was pretty hot.”

Rich looked him up and down. “I’d say you’re pretty hot all the time. I saw you with the bleached blond bitch this morning. She give you any?”

Rifle wasn’t sure if he was referring to beer or some other thing. He said, “Zan? No, we just talked.”

He remembered Rich and his friend had left the pool area before he’d gotten in the pool.

“Huh!” Rich scoffed. “I can imagine what that one talked about. Here,” and he handed one of the beers to Rifle. They twisted the caps off and each one took a long swig at the same time. Rifle lowered the bottle.

“Thanks,” he said. The cold beer was just perfect.

Rich looked at the only chair in the room but it supported Rifle’s duffle bag. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“So tell me,” he said. “How is it I didn’t I see you all weekend?”

Rifle leaned against the wall. “I wasn’t here. I just got here last night.”

“And why would you come when the weekend was over? Didn’t you know everybody’d be gone?”

Rifle smiled. “Obviously, not everybody.”

It took a split second for Rich to get it. “Oh. Well, yeah. We both had extra vacation days coming, so we decided to stay. We’re leaving in the morning.”

Rifle frowned. “You and…?”

“Stu. You saw him this morning. By the way, sorry about that. We didn’t know anybody was here besides the blond bitch.”

Rifle slowly nodded his head. “And you and Stu are…?” He wiggled his hand, not sure what he was asking.

“Nooo,” Rich drew out. “Well, sort of, but not really. I mean there’s nothing permanent or serious. In other words, I’m available.”

Rifle nodded again and took another swig of his beer. He lowered his bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Let me ask,” Rich said, “Are you a top? I hope, I hope, I hope, or am I wasting my time?”

Rifle raised his shoulders in a shrug, his face reflecting his confusion.

Rich gasped. “Ohmygod! You’re new to this, aren’t you? How delightful. Well, let me be your guide, my dear.”

He sat his beer bottle on the floor by the bed and slipped off the bed and onto his knees. He buried his face in Rifle’s crotch before Rifle had a chance to defend himself. He grabbed Rich's head but Rich had already tightly wrapped his arms around Rifle’s legs.

Rifle didn’t appear to have any control over his cock which was quickly responding to Rich’s attack by growing longer and stiffer. Rich opened his mouth and clamped his teeth on the shape tenting Rifle’s camos.

“Don’t, ”Rifle tried to say, but his voice choked.

Rich looked up at Rifle and moved his head back. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

Rifle said the only thing that came to his mind. “I don’t have any rubbers.”

He hadn’t used that term in years. Where it came from now he couldn’t have explained, but he wasn’t thinking about that.

“I come prepared,” Rich answered as he unzipped Rifle’s pants. He pulled Rifle’s cock out and kissed it. “Beautiful,” he whispered. He kissed it again as he unbuttoned and unzipped his own shorts. He stood up and pulled them off in one movement.

Rifle looked at him and as if following a hypnotist’s commands he pulled his pants and undershorts down. He stumbled to the bed and in a rush untied his shoes, kicked them off and pulled off his pants and shorts. Rich knelt in front of him and rolled a condom down over his erect cock.

He crawled on the bed and poised on his hands and knees, looking back at Rifle.

“Come on, you sexy stud. Fuck my ass. Stick that big rod in there and show me what you got.”

There was no question about what Rifle was expected to do. He held his rigid cock so it was sticking straight ahead and stepped up to Rich’s upturned ass. He put the end of his cock against the brown pucker and pushed. The round muscle gave way and his cock slid in.

He was immediately aware of the feeling of smooth warmth. He was mildly surprised at the tightness that surrounded his cock. He pushed a little more and his hairy patch pressed against Rich’s bare skin.

“Oh, shit yeah!” Rich exclaimed. “That big dick feels great. Fuck me, man. Fuck me good.”

Rifle wasn’t sure if he needed those instructions, but the words did turn him on. He pulled back until his cock slipped out and jammed it back in again. He found he enjoyed doing that and repeated it a half dozen times.

The last time he pulled out he slapped his cock against Rich’s butt a few times and ran the end up and down his crack three or four, finally ramming it back in.

He began fucking Rich hard, forcing Rich down onto his stomach. Rifle lay partially on Rich’s back but supported himself so that he could watch his cock go in and emerge. He picked up speed and lay flat, pinning Rich to the mattress. He humped hard and fast until he felt his balls contract and send his cum rushing up and out, filling Rich’s gut.

With each spurt, he jammed his cock in deep, both he and Rich grunting. When he’d been drained of all his juice he pushed himself up, making his cock slip free.

He stood and turned toward the bathroom, stripping the condom from his softening cock as he went.

When he came back out Rich had rolled onto his back, jacked his cock and just finished shooting off onto his stomach.

Rifle averted his gaze and said, “You can clean up in there,” pointing at the bathroom door. “I hope you didn’t smear up my sheets.”

Rich stood up without making a comment. He went into the bathroom and Rifle heard him pissing. When he came out Rifle had pulled on his shorts and cammies.

Rich picked up his shorts and stepped into them. “We’re gonna go eat with Wes and Denny a little later. You wanna join us?”

“Who are Wes and whoever?” Rifle asked.

“Oh, Denny. They’re another couple who’s still here. We’re all leaving tomorrow morning. I guess you didn’t meet them, but they’re pretty nice. Anyhow, you’re welcome to come too.”

“I don’t know,” Rifle mused.

“You might as well. There ain’t nobody else here, except the bleached blond bitch. Anyhow, we’re going at eight,” Rich said, reaching for the doorknob.

“Okay, maybe. I’ll think about it,” Rifle said, as he slowly closed the door.

At eight Rifle went out to the parking lot and waited for the four strangers to appear. They came out laughing at something one of them had said. Rich greeted him warmly and introduced him to the other three.

They all piled into Stu’s car and went to an Italian restaurant they’d obviously agreed on earlier. Over dinner, Rifle formed opinions of his new acquaintances. Stu was slightly pudgy and colorless. He seemed to do whatever Rich told him to do as if he was afraid that if he didn’t Rich wouldn’t have any use for him.

Rifle figured that Wes was in his early forties, but the fact his hairline had regressed four or five inches made it difficult to be sure. However, of the four he was the most well-spoken and interesting. Denny was a little younger than Rifle, and what is often described as all-American in his looks. He and Wes could have passed for father and son in most circumstances.

Dinner was pleasant, fueled by several beers, but Rifle felt he was on the outside, observing without intruding, which suited him fine. He got asked the usual questions about where he was from and his time in Afghanistan. He took the opportunity to add a couple of times that he had a girlfriend and was going home to get married.

Smiles were passed around the table and chuckled congratulations were offered, but no one asked for more information about Teri.

When they got back to the motel Rich and Stu said goodbye to Wes and Denny, promising to keep in touch and looking forward to coming back next year. Rifle shook hands all around and at the same time Rich and Stu went toward their room he headed for his, but just as he got to the door Wes called to him.

“Hey, Rifle.”

Rifle turned around.

“Would you be interested in coming up to our room for a nightcap?”

Rifle shrugged but put his room key back in his pocket.

Wes came closer. “Our room is up there, number 21,” he said, pointing to the second floor in the general direction of his room. “Do you drink Scotch? I’ve got some Cutty.”

“Yeah,” Rifle said, in answer to the second question, which also answered the first.

They went toward the stairs with Denny tailing along behind. Rifle noted the room was much like his own. Wes indicated for him to sit in the chair. He went into the bath and came back with three plastic-wrapped cups. He tore them open and set them on the dresser.

As he poured the Scotch Denny had gone around to the far side of the bed and half reclined there. Wes handed a cup to Rifle and another to Denny. He took his cup and sat down on the edge of the bed.

He raised his cup. “Cheers,” he said and the other two repeated the toast. They sipped the Scotch in silence.

Wes spoke up. “The word is that you’re new to this game. That true?”

Rifle scoffed. “I’m not in the game. I just did something stupid this afternoon.”

“Oh?” Wes said. “I heard you were a very good player.”

He glanced over at Denny and Denny chuckled.

Rifle wasn’t too pleased with where this was going. “It seems somebody should watch what he’s saying.”

“Sorry,” Wes said. “I didn’t mean to offend. But you gotta remember, none of this is offensive to us. This is our life.”

He reached over and put his hand on Denny’s leg and moved it up and down. Denny took his hand and squeezed it.

“I guess I’m the one who should say sorry. Like I said before, I have a girl I’m gonna marry as soon as I get home. It’s just this is strange to me. I don’t mean weird strange, just new.” Rifle took a sip of his drink.

Wes smiled. “That’s sort of what I said at first.”

Denny slid across the bed so he was behind Wes. He sat up and kissed the back of Wes’ neck. Wes tilted his head back so that it touched Denny’s.

“Let me clue you in on something,” he continued. “Denny here and I have a special relationship. It isn’t like Stu and Rich. Rich sleeps with whoever he can and Stu puts up with it. With us, sometimes we find someone we both like and we do a three-way. For us, it keeps our relationship fresh.”

He stopped and took another taste of his drink. Rifle didn’t say anything. He was waiting to see what was coming next.

Wes looked at him. “If you’re new to this, then I doubt you’ve ever been in a three-way unless you did it with the opposite sex. Have you?”

Rifle shook his head.

“You think you’d like to?”

Rifle intended to shake his head but didn’t. He just sat still, his drink in his hand, forgotten.

“It would be an experience I can promise you’ll never forget,” Wes said in a low voice.

For the first time, Denny spoke. “If you don’t like it you can always leave. We don’t do bondage or anything like that.”

Wes laughed and looked at Denny. “You’ll scare the shit out of him.”

He looked back at Rifle. “But, yeah, you can always call it quits whenever you want. But I bet you won’t.”

“What do I do? Or we do?” Rifle ventured.

Wes smiled. “We get naked and get in bed and see what happens. You do whatever you want to, whatever you feel like. You just let nature take over.”

Rifle thought, ‘Am I nuts? I’ve had sex twice today, and with two different guys. This is crazy.’

“Can I take a leak?” he asked.

“Sure,” Wes said.

Rifle went into the bathroom and closed the door. He pulled out his cock and pissed. When he finished and shook the last drops from his cock he became aware that it was getting firm. He tucked it back in his pants and rinsed his hands, using a previously used bath towel to dry them.

When he opened the door he saw at once that both Wes and Denny were naked. Denny was lying stretched out on the bed with his hands behind his head, his erect cock sticking straight up.

Wes was sitting where he’d been before, but leaning back so his equipment was vividly displayed, also hard.

“Whoa,” Rifle exclaimed.

“I thought you went in the bath to undress in privacy,” Wes explained. “My mistake.”

“Shit, yeah,” Rifle said.

“So you’re opting to miss out on this opportunity? Too bad.”

Rifle stood there but he didn’t turn his eyes away.

“Maybe another drink?” Wes asked.

Rifle shook his head but stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door again. He looked at his reflection in the mirror, as if looking for an answer.

After a long minute, he said, “What the shit…”

He jerked his shirttail out and pulled his shirt off over his head without unbuttoning it. He kicked his shoes off at the same time he opened his pants and pushed them down and pulled them off.

He paused in his underwear and looked in the mirror again. He pulled off his undershirt and pushed his shorts down, all the while staring in the mirror in a defiant way.

He looked down at the reflection of his cock in the mirror and grasped it. He shook it as if daring himself. He looked down at it and made it grow to its full length.

He turned and put his hand on the door handle but paused, then twisted the handle violently and swung the door open.

Wes let out a slow whistle. “Nice,” he said.

Denny rose up to get a better look. His eyes lit up and he grinned.

Wes got off the bed and indicated he wanted Rifle to lie down next to Denny. Rifle did as he was instructed and Wes lay down beside him. It was a little tight and he again felt uncomfortable, this time for lying between two naked men he hardly knew.

He had only seconds to reflect on his discomfiture before Denny bent forward and took almost all of Rifle’s cock into his mouth. For the second time that day he experienced the electric sensation of having someone suck his cock, although that first time now seemed to be many days ago.

He was still watching the back of Denny’s head when Wes slid down and sucked his balls into his mouth. For the next several minutes Wes and Denny took turns sucking his cock and balls and each of them licking his cock, their tongues often meeting.

Denny left his cock to Wes and moved up his body licking it as he came. He nibbled on one of Rifle’s nipples. He lifted Rifle’s arm and buried his face in his armpit, licking it with gusto. Rifle remembered he’d showered before going out to lunch, but in this heat wouldn’t have been surprised if his deodorant hadn’t worked at all.

At the same time Denny abandoned his now clean armpit Wes began licking the accumulated sweat from between his legs. He lifted Rifle’s butt and moved a few inches farther down until his tongue encountered Rifle’s asshole. It was soon apparent this had been his destination. His alternated kissing it with licking and probing it with his tongue.

Denny had reversed his position on the bed and returned to sucking Rifle’s cock. He was lying half on top of Rifle and his cock was inches from Rifle’s face. For a reason he would never be able to explain to himself he moved those couple of inches and took Denny’s cock into his mouth.

Nothing in his life would have ever prepared him for the sensation he felt now of having another man’s cock in his mouth. The firmness of the muscle, the softness of the skin, the shape of the flange, the velvet texture of the head all combined to inflame his lust.

After several minutes the weirdest thought entered his head. Instead of wondering why he was sucking this guy’s cock, he wondered if sucking Wes’ cock would be the same. He wanted to know.

He released Denny’s cock and pushed him off to the side. Instead of lying flat and letting them do to him what they wished he sat up and twisted his body so that he was on his knees and facing Wes. He pushed Wes back until he fell back onto his butt, providing Rifle easy access to his cock, which was bigger than Denny’s.

He bent down and took as much of it into his mouth as he could, his head pushing against Wes’ stomach. Wes rearranged himself so that more of his cock was available. Rifle had no idea why, but the larger size, both in length and girth, was more satisfying.

He automatically began bobbing his head up and down. Wes placed his hand on Rifle’s shoulder. The touch caused Rifle to pause, which gave him a moment to savor the feeling of this cock in his mouth.

He returned to moving his head back and forth but slower, unknowingly allowing memories to develop for later recall.

Rifle was on his knees, his head lowered to the height of Wes’ cock, his butt higher. He was concentrated on Wes’ cock and had forgotten Denny, but Denny hadn’t forgotten about Rifle. He’d taken one of the condoms off the night table and rolled it down over his cock.

He scooted over so he was kneeling behind Rifle. He put the end of his cock against Rifle’s ass hole and looked up at Wes. Wes nodded and Denny pushed, his cock prying Rifle’s asshole open and allowing him to enter. He continued pushing until he was deeply inserted.

The entire action had taken only seconds and caught Rifle off guard, but before he could react the feeling of being filled by Denny’s cock overrode any objection he would have expressed if he’d been forewarned. Denny moved his hips back and let his cock almost slide out but reversed the motion and slid all the way back in.

Rifle’s brain swung back and forth between the two sensations of a cock in his mouth and one in his ass. Never had he been consumed by so much lust, never had he been so overwhelmed by physical pleasure.

Denny began fucking him rapidly prompting him to imitate the rhythm with his head on Wes’ cock. It took only a few minutes for Denny to reach his climax and jab his cock deep in Rifle’s ass as he filled the condom with his sperm.

When his climax subsided he withdrew his cock and peeled the condom off, tossing it onto the floor. He then got onto his back and slithered between Rifle’s legs, forcing him to spread them wide. He took Rifle’s cock in his mouth and sucked on it much as Rifle was doing to Wes’.

The double thrill of sucking a cock and having his cock sucked brought Rifle to the edge and he came, sending his cum down Denny’s throat. His mind was on the fervor of that when Wes grabbed his head and filled his mouth with the first cum he’d ever taste.

He probably would have spit, or even stopped sucking before, had he not been so immersed in the entire sensory experience. The surprise caught him off guard and he could only swallow the salty cream that flooded his mouth.

Wes held him in place until there was no more cum to shoot out. When he let him go Rifle withdrew both his mouth from Wes’ cock and his own cock from Denny’s mouth. He moved to one side and lay on his back. Denny sat up and he and Wes kissed. Rifle watched them with a certain amount of wonder.

When they stopped Wes looked at Rifle and simply said, “Well?”

Rifle shrugged. He moved over to the edge of the bed and sat up. He turned and looked at Wes.

“You were right about one thing. I’ll never forget it, that’s for sure.”

He got up and went into the bathroom. He glanced in the mirror and then averted his gaze. He got dressed and splashed cold water in his face. He decided not to use the towel again.

When he went back into the room both Wes and Denny were still lying on the bed, their arms around each other.

Rifle said, “You guys are checking out early tomorrow and I’ve got a long drive ahead of me, so I better go. It’s been interesting, guys.”

He turned and opened the door.

Wes chuckled. “Okay, it was nice. Good luck, man.”

Rifle took the steps down two at a time. He went into his room and stripped, kicking his underwear across the room. He brushed his teeth, showered for fifteen minutes, and brushed his teeth again.

He put on clean boxers and an undershirt and got in the bed. He lay there alternately thinking about everything he’d just done and trying not to think about it. Sleep finally came.

He awoke at seven the next morning and showered again. After he’d packed his duffle bag he swung it onto his back and took it out to his car. After stowing it in the trunk he looked around and saw there was still one car in the lot: An apple-green Chrysler Sebring.

Instead of going to the office to turn in his key Rifle went back to his room, supposedly to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. After looking aimlessly around he sat down on the edge of the bed. He sat for several minutes looking at the floor. He looked at the digital clock on the night table. It was nine o’clock, two hours until checkout time.

He suddenly spat out. “Shit! Fuck it, Idaho can wait a couple more hours. Who the fuck will know? Who the fuck cares?”

He untied his high-tops and kicked them off. He stood up and slowly and carefully undressed in the reverse order he’d dressed an hour before. When he was completely nude except for his socks he picked up the room key and went out, locking the door behind him.

He stood naked in the blazing sun, squinting up at the second floor. He had no idea which room Zan was in and supposed he’d have to knock on each door until he found the right one.

But he might as well start by checking the pool.