Tracey Parker is an urban explorer, based in Mexico City, who discovers and presents unique gay cultures around the world. From Steamworks Chicago, Crew Club in DC, he’s no stranger to a gay US hookup spot. This time, Tracey shares a gay erotic story from Fort Lauderdale’s well-known gay clothing-optional resort, The Worthington.
I have a friend in DC who frequently travels to Fort Lauderdale. He knows the town inside and out because he used to live there for over 10 years.
The Worthington Guest House is the only place where he will stay when he visits. It is a clothing-optional gay resort that is simple in concept yet remarkably well-executed. I decided to take a solo trip there for the weekend to celebrate my birthday.
When I arrived, I immediately began to understand why my friend liked it so much. It was a maze of a hotel that somebody later told me was three hotels combined into one. After I checked in, they showed me to my room and gave me a tour of the entire place.
Each of the three separate hotels had its own pool, surrounded by beautiful palm trees and plants, while the individual pools, heavily landscaped breezeways, still connected them. We were always outside, which felt exotic after having just arrived from Washington, DC, in December.
My room was on the third floor. After I had booked it, my friend told me that he had stayed on that floor and that it was too high above the pool and the cruisy ground floor. But I was content with the view. I could see all the men in the pool below me. Most were bunched up in all four corners of the pool, chatting and sipping on cocktails in groups.
Suddenly, I became fixated on a beautiful guy lounging in a chair with a small towel wrapped around his waist. His delicately muscled body glowed beneath the colored mood lighting of the pool.
From my high height above the ground, I could see an opening to his crotch from his towel, and my imagination did the rest. In my mind, I was already licking his hairy slender legs up to the untamed forest beneath his towel until I found his salty cock inside of it all.
But that was enough fantasizing for now. I unpacked my travel bag and changed into my towel and flip-flops. I decided to walk around and see what else there was to look at.
I made a few laps around the place, and each time, I passed a room with an older couple inside who looked peculiarly interesting. They were larger, with bellies, dark-tanned skin, and silver hairs covering their entire bodies. They liked big piercings. Big, heavy earrings fell from their ears and nipples.
They seemed like they’d be interesting to get to know. The way they were sitting on their bed, watching TV, and nursing their beers hinted at contentment that my friends and I back home weren’t even close to achieving.
My third time passing their room, I smelled marijuana—the room filled with a dense fog, like a hot-boxed car. Unlike the last two times, they waved me inside.
We exchanged introductions, and things got frisky very quickly. One was sitting on the bed, comfortably leaning back on the headboard, and the pierced cock began growing quickly. We kissed a little bit before Slightly More Pierced pushed my head down and asked that I bite his pierced nipples. It was clear, based on the piercings and the request, that nipple play was very much his thing.
I gave little bunny rabbit nibbles, afraid of hurting him. He kept telling me politely that I could bite harder. I licked and bit the nips but felt my attention was heading towards his dick, so I started sucking his cock.
Surprise, surprise: it was pierced! I had never really sucked a cock with a Prince Albert piercing, and again, I was worried about hurting him, but it didn’t seem sensitive at all. It was as if it were part of his body.
His body worked very differently from mine, and I can’t deny I was fascinated by it. Suddenly his partner began licking my ass, which was pointed straight up in the air.
I was on my knees, bent over, sucking off the pierced cock, and soon I was sucking his nipples again.
We swam around the bed. All three of us were high and constantly changing positions, whether it was the weed, which was an intense strain from my experience with weed, and the fact they wanted some foreplay and nipple pinches, and I was hoping to get my ass fucked.
The strain of weed was intense, and I could feel my presence in that room could go either way as these guys started to drift into the stupor that only a good kush can provide.
I decided that I was done for now, and I slipped out from between them. Before I knew it, I was kissing both of them goodbye and making my way to the door.
I needed some air. I decided I would walk to the beach, which was only a few blocks away. On my way there, I remembered I was high. It had been a while since I had smoked marijuana or weed like that, and the feeling I had was that of profound gratitude. The ocean was breathtaking. I was high, and being outside made me feel much more in a state of serenity.
I looked up at the almost full moon and just started laughing. It had been a challenging year at work and with my friends. Being out here on the beach in December, in shorts and an unbuttoned Hawaiian Shirt, felt like a victory over all of it.
I was going back in my mind, remembering all the conflicts I had endured, rehashing each argument I had won and a few that I had lost. Through it all, I just kept laughing.
Suddenly, I heard someone talking to me.
“What’s so funny?”
I turned around. It was the guy from the pool. He was even more handsome than when I had seen him by the pool. He had a corduroy shirt unbuttoned and a pair of small, loosely fitting swim trunks.
I liked how low-key his outfit was and how sexy he managed to look in it despite not trying that hard.
We looked into each other’s eyes and smiled big smiles that said things we didn’t understand.
We slowly began to touch one another. I placed my fingers on Low-Key’s elbow, and he put his on my shoulder. I rested my head on his shoulder and smelled his delicious combination of sunscreen, alcohol, fresh laundry, and musty man.
I put my hand on his bare torso, and electricity surged through my entire body. We got closer so our hard cocks could begin to graze each other.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked him.
He told me he enjoyed walking on the beach. I asked him if he needed a break from all the men inside the hotel who must have wanted to fuck him.
He replied with a self-conscious giggle, showing off his beautiful smile and teeth.
Both of us scanned the beach. I assumed we were looking for places to fuck. There was nothing on the beach but painted plywood storage sheds where they stored the rental umbrellas at the end of every day. We took a seat on top of one of them and began talking and kissing on and off.
He invited me to his room, but I told him I wanted him to fuck me while I was looking at the ocean. It felt empty, and we had privacy to a point, but there was always something that reminded us we couldn’t do that here: a person, a car, a distant noise, or something else.
We stayed around and did as much as we could until we finally returned to the hotel.
Low-Key’s room was in the same building where I originally saw him. We rolled around on his clean sheets, our bodies covered in a film of saltwater air from the beach.
His cock had a deliciously sweet and salty taste to it. We both told each other how exhausted we were. I was from my flight and he from spending the entire day in the sun. But the energy necessary to fuck around always presented itself.
Our bodies melted together, and I felt a deep relaxation as I came inside of him while he was straddling me. He let my cock fall out of his ass. He picked up my legs and fucked me on the spot in practically the same position in which I fucked him. We stayed in place, but our roles reversed effortlessly.
I’ll never forget this about him, even though I never even caught his name.
Then we disappeared into a deep sleep. The next morning, we did it again before I left and returned to my room to sleep a little longer.
I didn’t see Low-Key again for the rest of the time I stayed at The Worthington Guest House. The gay hookup feels like a fever dream from weed and exhaustion. I’ll never forget the taste of his salty, sandy cock.
