The sun and breeze played over my bare skin as I shook the pool water from my hair. Lounging under a wide sun hat, a tall, handsome man watched me slip into my flip-flops. His body carried no trace of fat, lean and toned, like a proper stallion, a racehorse. Smiling with dazzling white teeth, he drew up his long legs and patted the edge of his lounger invitingly.
I sat at his feet, admiring his dusky, chiseled features and neatly trimmed beard—he looked like a young Omar Sharif.
When his bare foot brushed against my hip, my cock began to awaken. Beneath his trunks, his own rising erection formed a distinct, heavy curve. He leaned forward, pulled me in, and kissed me. A dozen sunbathers watched hungrily as we rose and headed toward my poolside villa.
It was only my second day at the resort in the Canary Islands, but the sexual temperature in the air was scolding. I was staying at Villas Blanca, billed as one of the world’s premier clothing-optional resorts exclusively for gay men.
Tucked inside lush tropical gardens in Maspalomas on the island of Gran Canaria—the second most populous of Spain’s Canary Islands off the Atlantic coast of northwest Africa—it lives up to the reputation.
The property features 30 private bungalows ranging from studios to multi-bedroom villas, each equipped with kitchens, terraces, air conditioning, and sturdy king-size beds built for the company.
Outside, guests circulate between two pools (one heated year-round), a 14-man Jacuzzi, a sauna, and an open-air bar. Except for the indoor dining room, clothing is entirely optional everywhere on the grounds.
Maspalomas itself is an international hub for gay travel, known for its warm subtropical climate, the massive Winter Pride festival each November, and a relaxed, sexually liberated culture. A free shuttle outside the resort runs straight to the main hotspots: the clothing-optional dunes near Kiosks 5 and 7, and the Yumbo Centre.
By day, the Yumbo functions as an open-air retail center with cafes, beachwear boutiques, cannabis clubs, and fetish shops stocked with leather and toys. By night, it transforms into a multi-level complex of drag lounges, open-air cocktail terraces, and late-night darkrooms.
Gran Canaria offers plenty of daytime excursions—from camel treks across the Maspalomas dunes to exploring the historic quarter of Las Palmas or the seaside village of Puerto de Mogán—but with up to 70 men staying on-site, there is rarely a pressing reason to leave the resort grounds.
Back inside my villa, the air conditioning hummed at a cool 22 degrees while low jazz played in the background. I poured my guest—Etienne—a drink, and we sat together on the sofa. After a couple of sips, we moved directly to the bedroom.
Tangled sideways on the mattress, we slipped into a slow 69. Etienne worked his mouth over my ass while I took his uncut seven inches down my throat. He paused, tracing his thumbs along the arches of my feet.
“You have incredible feet,” he murmured.
“Thanks,” I answered around the weight of his cock.
“First thing I noticed by the pool,” he said, kissing my instep before sliding his hands around my ankles and pulling me toward the edge of the mattress.
He rose to his knees directly in front of me, letting the heavy head of his dick tap lightly against my lips and cheeks. When he pressed forward again, I drew back his foreskin, licked down the shaft, and took him deep until he let out a low groan.
“Kiss me,” he rasped, gripping my shoulders to hoist me up until we were standing chest-to-chest.
His tongue pushed deep into my mouth while we reached down, stroking each other in time—deliberate at first, then quickening into a hard, feverish rhythm.
“I’m close,” I breathed against his neck.
Etienne guided my hand downward so my release shot straight across my ankles and feet. Dropping straight to his knees, he licked the hot semen clean off my skin and toes, stroking himself furiously until his own release spilled across my shins.
Breathless, we grabbed our glasses and stepped out onto the terrace. We leaned back in the warm breeze, taking in the view and each other’s naked bodies. When Etienne pulled me close, I tilted my chin expecting a kiss; instead, he parted my lips and emptied a mouthful of chilled local white wine directly into mine. He caught my feet, rested them across his thighs, and let me stroke his softening cock between my soles before we set our glasses down and headed back inside.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Andy Oh lives in the rain forest near Vancouver, Canada. He frequently travels the world searching for sensual delights to share with his readers. He also writes about and creates homo-erotic art. He is Urplaypal on Squirt.org, and you can email him at andy.oh@hotmail.com
