WEIRD HOMO WETS BED AFTER DRUNKEN ORGY IN PORTLAND

by Phillip

PORTLAND, OREGON — I spent the last night of my Portland getaway at a certain trendy hotel on the city’s former gay strip, which used to house a leather bar, a strip club, and a bath-house. They’ve all moved to various locations around the city, leaving only a few gay bars behind. Some say development pushed them away, but others argue that spreading the gayness around is more progressive than forcing it all into one area. Either way, thank god that the gay strip club moved instead of ceasing to exist because it’s still as fun and trashy as ever. A group of friends gathered there to watch the ‘gay’ dancers shake their dicks for a few bucks. We drank a lot and, naturally, invited hotties back to the hotel room for an after-party.

A small group amassed, yelling ‘After party this way!!!’ to any sexy men on the street. Someone picked up a case of beer minutes before the liquor stores closed, we fled past the hotel’s front desk and into our room, then immediately began a rousing game of spin-the-bottle. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been at an after-party with this group of friends where spin-the-bottle wasn’t an option, and, with our special rule: the third time a spin connects the same two people they must go into the other room for ‘seven minutes in heaven.’ Yes, we revert to junior high-school party games. It breaks the ice.

After everyone made out with everyone and a few spent some time fondling each other in heaven we decided to throw beer cans at the two straight dudes who were sleeping in the extra beds. Not straight like you’re blowing them after a few beers, straight like they pass out when a group of fags are on the verge of an orgy. They didn’t wake up. Boring. Two boys started hooking up in the main bed, my friend who may or may not work at the hotel passed out next to one of the straights, and I started hooking up with this random dude with a beard who kept telling me that he ‘wanted me.’ Three beers ago I may have deemed him a creep, but after our seven minutes I decided he was gorgeous. The next thing you know he’s eating my ass and trying to fuck me, which I was not having. I swatted his dick away and told him to blow me. He obliged. It was hot for a second until he rolled over awaiting reciprocation and I suddenly realized I wasn’t that into it. Oops. I decided to be a good sport and suck him off for a few seconds, which seemed to suffice. He then requested two amazing things: one—he begged me to cum on his face, and two—he asked me to punch him.

The couple on the bed passed out mid-hand jobs and my friend and the two straights were snoring away in the corner, so I didn’t want to be too loud and punch this dude in the face… now that I’m writing this I don’t know why I cared. The others would have been envious, right? I somehow decided that a slight slap in the face followed by a forceful grab of the cheeks would fulfill his desire. I’m not sure if it worked for him but I felt pretty good about it, although hopefully the next time some straight-lookin’ bearded man asks me to hit him I can really give it a go, like, give him a black eye. Anyway, so then I came on his face, he jerked himself off, and we tried to sleep on the extremely uncomfortable floor together. The itchy decorative rug didn’t help much either.

I tossed and turned all night. I knew my early morning flight would be a nightmare if I couldn’t get some sleep. Somehow I passed out for a little while, then, was shaken awake by the guy who’s face I came on. ‘It’s weird and wet down here! Weird and wet!’ I had no fucking idea what he was talking about. ‘It’s weird and wet, did you wet the bed? Did you wet the bed?’ I realized that it was indeed weird and wet. The rug beneath us felt soaked with something, but how dare he accuse me of pissing our makeshift bed! I angrily responded, ‘I didn’t piss the floor you idiot, we must have spilled something, a can of beer or water or something.’ He kept asking me if I was sure I didn’t wet the bed in the most grating voice ever. I looked around at all the water cups and beer cans and told him it’s obviously a spill so shut the fuck up. I decided to sleep elsewhere, away from the wetness and accusations.

I stood up and noticed that the two straights joined forces in one tiny bed while my friend occupied the other, so I took off my wet underwear and crawled into bed with him. Once again I couldn’t sleep. I tried and tried to no avail, tossing and turning until I eventually ended up spooning my friend, which made me horny again. I ran my hand over his chest and down his pants and the next thing you know he’s awake and we’re jerking each other off. I remember wondering if the other guy could hear us. Would he be mad? I slapped him, came on him, then ditched his wet cuddle party for someone ten feet away. Oh, and they’re friends too. Whatever.

We both came then continued spooning. I finally fell asleep for a good half-hour or so, then woke up to discover that the bearded guy had left, and my alarm was beeping. I had an early flight. I shoved belongings into my bag, wandered around the room to make sure I didn’t leave anything behind, then stumbled upon the wet underwear I took off a few hours prior. I picked it up and took a whiff. To my surprise it smelled like… piss! Bearded dude was right. I totally pissed all over the place in my sleep. A first! Well, a first since elementary school. I looked to the rug, which revealed a four-foot diameter wet spot. Oh well. I tossed the wet undies into my bag, checked out, got a breakfast burrito to go, missed my train, and ended up cabbing to the airport. I felt like I’d been run over by a truck, and, the few hairs on my stomach kept pulling on my skin due to dried jizz.

I drank an overpriced margarita at the airport bar then hopped on my San Francisco-bound plane. It was gay pride weekend. I rushed from the airport to the festivities, making a brief stop to drop off my bags, wipe my stomach with a wet rag, and slam a beer. I felt fantastic once again. My apologies to the hotel rug.