What Happens in Vegas...

Back in May of 2008 I was in Las Vegas, staying at Caesar’s Palace. I went and got a massage…like, a normal massage that I paid a lot of money for. Not some back-alley, Craigslist, wring your dick out like a wet-towel massage. Not the kind where they come to your room and lay down a layer of plastic over your mattress to catch the cum and the blood, preventing what would sure become the real version of the Metallica Load album cover art. It was a real massage from a real masseuse.

After the massage, I came back into the Men’s Spa and marveled at the amazing ambience surrounding me. There was an Arctic room, a Steam Room, a Sauna, Hot Tubs, Plunge Pools, and a lounge with Chaise Chairs. I walked into the Spa wearing just a robe after my massage, and I wanted to take advantage of all of the amenities made available to me. The catch is, you only have your robe on and nothing else. So, to use one of these pools or tubs, you need to go in naked.

At the time, I was the only person in the entire Spa, which boosted my confidence in using their facilities while in the buff. See, I don’t think I’m “small”, but I also don’t have what they call “Big Dick Bravado” where I come in puffy chested and swinging lumber. I’m more of a lights off, fuck through the pee-hole of my boxers kind of a guy. When I get out of the shower at the gym, I keep the towel wrapped around me while trying to shimmy my boxers on underneath it. Anytime I hear or see anybody in the vicinity of me I try to go faster, almost always resulting in the boxers getting stuck on my wet leg while I turn into Jeff Goldblum in the back of the Jeep in Jurassic Park: “Must go faster, must go faster, go, go, go, go, go!” Back at the spa, I delicately take off my robe like it’s prom night and I’m trying not to rip a dress. I make my way towards the hot tub and I put my foot in it first, because I’m a pussy, and it is WAY too fucking hot. I burn my foot, jump back, and let out a high-pitched squeal like a lobster going into a pot. This is boiling water and I have no idea how this could be fun or relaxing for anybody without frostbite. Nevertheless, I start gradually working my way into this hot tub, inch-by-inch, and I’m about down to my shin, when all of a sudden, I hear a door creak open.

I look up and in walks this tall, chiseled, square-jawed, good-looking guy. You can see the cut of his chest sticking through the robe that is barely able to be held together due to his muscles stretching it apart. He takes two steps forward and, in full confidence and stride, rips off his robe in one motion like a magician doing a cape twirl. And this guy…had the biggest Hog I have ever seen, on a white guy, in-person, in my life. It drew my eye immediately…I don’t know if you’ve ever been Starstruck before, but like a moth to a flame, I was sucked in. Before I knew it, there I was, almost hypnotized, staring at it, thinking to myself “That, is a beautiful dick.” It was captivating, like Ripley’s Believe it or Not…and I believed it, I was all in! It was mesmerizing, I was enthralled…

But, when you stare at a dick that long, you forget the fact that it’s attached to the body of someone with eyes, and their eyes are staring at you, staring at their dick. My eyes finally made my way back up his body and eventually locked eyes with him. He then tilted his head to the side and gave me half-a-smile, because he’s gay, and he thinks that we’re playing. And how could he NOT think we’re playing, I’ve given him no indication otherwise…I haven’t even said hi at this point. We gazed at each other and made strong eye contact for way too long. We didn’t say a word, but we spoke VOLUMES to each other. Just then, this guy makes his move towards the hot tub. And, as a power move, he didn’t exactly go in it, he more or less sat on the ledge of it, with his legs spread apart from each other, while his dick (sploosh) plopped right in the water. Because he likes his martinis stirred, not shaken, apparently. And now, I’ve got all of the awkward feels kicking in hard over here. I’m fumbling around, trying to tuck mine, and ‘Silence of the Lambs’ it to avoid the shame.

I didn’t know what else to do to avoid the embarrassment, so to end this awkward moment, I ended up jumping right into the hot tub. All the way in, just (Bloop, Bloop). My head went under the water, and you never want your head to go under the water in a hot tub. There’s no telling what type of dick dirt and ass sweat bouillabaisse you’re gargling on the way up. I bobbed back up out of that water in slow-motion like Fast Times at Ridgemont High, just glistening and glowing on a platter for this guy.

But now I’ve got another problem, the hot tub is still WAY too fucking hot, it feels like it’s starting to burn my skin off at this point, and I have to get out. The problem is, I didn’t get in on the side of the hot tub with stairs. HE was sitting on the stairs with his dick rolling down them like a red carpet welcoming him into the hot tub. I jumped off the ledge on the other side, which now presented me with quite the conundrum. I have to jump to get back out of the hot tub and I don’t know which way to face without sending up another Bat Signal telling this guy I want to fuck him! Do I go out facing him and just thrust my little limp, mushy, baby dick in his face as I’m leaping up? Or, do I go out facing backward, on my knees, and show him the lunch on the way out? I didn’t know what to do. Ultimately, what I decided on, was I just kind of slithered up on my belly, and spatchcocked my way across the floor, like a Thanksgiving Turkey. I stood up and started to walk away and he’s like “Hey, hey!” and I just got the fuck out of there.

I wish the story ended there, however, it’s time for the third act. I went into the shower, locked the door, and started playing back the crazy scenario I just left. I’m sitting there in the shower thinking to myself “what in the hell was that all about?” How did I get myself into this situation? And then, all of a sudden, I see a silhouette appear in front of the shower door. And I know that it’s this guy because of the shadow. I mean, it's either this guy or a tall guy riding a baby elephant. He knocked on the door and jiggled the handle. And I’m inside panicking like “I’m in here!!!, as if that was in question at his point. He knocks again, and I’m like “FUCK ME!”, which is also what he’s thinking. I want to come out and tell this guy that I don’t want to have sex, but I’m pretty sure that’s what everybody in prison says right before they have it! The longer I sat there, the more the hamster wheel started spinning, and after several more knocks, my brain started spiraling and I found myself thinking…“Maybe I really am gay??? Maybe it’s me?” I mean, I did stare at his dick for an awfully long time without saying ANYTHING. And then, when he put it in the water, I didn’t exactly leave, no, I dove HEAD FIRST into the water…like he was fly-fishing me in with his cock.

But then, the logical side of my brain started kicking in and I’m thinking to myself, “Even if I can wrap my head around doing this, THAT is NOT the guy I want to be starting with!!!” If anything, I’d want to work myself in gradually like a baseball glove. You don’t buy a new mitt and go right into the game, you rubberband a baseball into it in the offseason and let it collapse a little bit. Even when you pierce your ears, you use studs before you gauge them for Christ’s Sake. This right here is a square-peg-round-hole situation if there ever was one. I’m looking at his dick like I’m seeing the shark for the first time in Jaws, like “I’m gonna need a bigger boat”. He’d literally tear me a new asshole. I sat in that cold shower for over 85-minutes until I was certain that this guy was either gone or had finally cum. By that point, my asshole was shriveled up so tight, Memphis Raines couldn’t have broken into it. I came out of the shower, and that guy was gone, but the damage was done. He was out of my life, but not out of my mind. That happened back in 2008 and I still remember it like it was yesterday. I’ve thought about that guy off and on over the years at particular moments. Every time I go into a hot tub…anytime I need two hands to hold something…anytime I accidentally sit on the remote…there he is, knocking on the door, jiggling the handle in my head. I no longer have the ability to embellish or play along with a lie because of him. Anytime my wife and I are in bed and she’s like “You’re so big”, I’m like “I’ve seen bigger…”. “I’ve been to the mountaintop! I’ve seen the Promised Land. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!”

It’s been over 14 years since that event and I’ll tell you this... What happens in Vegas may stay in Vegas…but a big dick will follow you for the rest of your life! And that’s all I have to say about that.