Gay Send-off with My Cousins: Sauna and Club

My father had arranged everything with Uncle Marcos before I even got to the village. That morning, sitting the three of us on the porch, they explained the split to me: he kept the farms closest to the ones he already tended, and the rest would go into my name. My father wanted to protect the assets before my mother and he signed the divorce they had been putting off for months.

—If your mother drags the estate into her lawsuits, there’ll be nothing left —he told me bluntly.

I asked whether he was sick. He wasn’t. It was a practical matter, cold, calculated with Uncle Marcos’s help. I signed everything that morning at the notary’s office, opened a bank account, and walked out with a wad of bills my father pressed into my hand when he learned that night I was planning to take my cousins out.

—It’s your send-off. Spare no expense.

***

Damián was the first to suggest the plan: sauna, dinner at a pizzeria, and a nightclub in the city. Mateo, who had Friday off, had already mapped out the route. His brother Hugo volunteered his car, which meant we’d be able to split up without being crammed together. Bruno, my guest for the week, had spent two days waiting for a night out like this.

I called Adrián. It took eight missed calls before he answered.

—I was out shopping with my mother —he said hurriedly—. What’s up?

—We’re going out this afternoon. Sauna, dinner, club. You’re coming.

—It’s just that I’m short on money, Iván.

—I’m not asking you to chip in. I’m inviting you. My father gave me enough for everyone.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Adrián’s voice changed.

—I can’t let you down.

—But I can fuck you.

He laughed. We agreed he’d sleep at my place that night. I told him to bring the bare minimum: shorts, a tank top, and nothing dressy. The club we were going to wasn’t fancy. It was something else.

***

Adrián showed up at five in a black tank top, white shorts, and a strand of fake amber pearls tucked in his pocket. He showed it to me, unsure whether to put it on. I told him yes. I put it on him myself, brushing the back of his neck with my fingers longer than necessary, then sliding my hand down his back and slipping it for a second inside his white shorts, palming his bare ass before giving him a sharp smack. Adrián let out a short moan and pressed himself against my bulge, rubbing his ass over my pants. I bit his shoulder and whispered in his ear that later I was going to ram his cunt full of cock, that he should behave. Bruno came down the stairs just as I was fastening the clasp, wearing a pair of my yellow shorts and a red-and-green tank top that pinched my chest but fit him perfectly.

I introduced them. Bruno extended his hand with the awkward formality of someone already thinking about something else, his eyes fixed on the bulge Adrián still hadn’t quite hidden.

Hugo and the others arrived in the two cars at five ten. We split up: Bruno with Damián and Mateo, Adrián and me with Hugo driving. The moment we pulled off, Hugo made the rules clear in that calm, serious way of his.

—Sex, whoever wants it. Alcohol too, except for the drivers. No drugs. I’m saying this for everyone.

We agreed. Adrián added that he didn’t drink much either and volunteered to be a backup mechanic if Hugo needed one. On the road, Hugo told us that at that club they keep pushing joints on you until anyone gives in. That was why he, who wasn’t gay but had spent years tagging along with his brother Damián and Mateo, had imposed the rule without asking permission.

—So you don’t dance, then —I asked him.

—I do dance. If Electro House comes on, I dance with my brother or with Mateo. Otherwise, I watch and drink gin and tonic without the gin.

—Tonic water, in other words —said Adrián.

—Exactly, exactly.

Hugo spoke without the slightest discomfort about our sex talk. He said everyone had their own thing, that in his house everything was fit for everyone, and that people were like islands that together made an archipelago. He meant it seriously, and it made us think while we left vineyard fields behind us.

***

The sauna was on the outskirts of a nearby village, isolated on a dirt road. I paid for all six tickets at the entrance and handed the wallet to Hugo so he could keep it, since he had deeper pockets. A guy at reception gave us towels, flip-flops, and a couple of condoms each. Inside the locker there were two more and some lubricant sachets.

We went down the eight steps to the pool area. Adrián and I had our towels over our shoulders; the others had wrapped theirs around their waists. On the wall, a sign listed the rules. The last one said: “Scat is not allowed.”

—What’s that? —Adrián asked.

—Sex with shit —I said.

—Well damn, that’s my favorite thing —Bruno said with a funeral face.

Everyone looked at him. I confirmed, without looking away, that Bruno did it very well but that it was a home thing, not something for there. Hugo ran a hand over his forehead and said it would be better if we all showered before getting into anything.

The showers had fixed spray heads. I got into one, Adrián came into mine without asking, Damián and Mateo shared another. Adrián dropped to his knees as soon as he shut the stall door, wet hair sticking to his forehead, and shoved his cock into my mouth with a hard motion. He sucked me quickly, without finesse, swallowing half my dick and breathing through his nose. I yanked his hair back.

—Not now, you prick. Save it for the jacuzzi.

He wiped the spit off with the back of his hand and smiled at me, mouth open, tongue still showing. I went straight out to the pool with my cock half-hard smacking against my thigh. I did eight lengths, slowly, feeling the others’ eyes on me. When I got back to the edge, Bruno and Adrián were already in the jacuzzi.

The six of us sat down in the hot water. We started telling jokes. Ten minutes later all the jokes were about sex, and after fifteen I was touching myself under the water without even thinking, squeezing my balls and stroking myself with two fingers while Adrián stared straight at me.

Adrián crouched in front of me and put his head under the water. He came up immediately, took a breath, and motioned with his eyes for me to sit on the edge. I did. Bruno came over from the other side. They started taking turns, first one, then the other. Adrián swallowed my cock in one go, squeezing the base with his hand and choking for a second before he came up to breathe. Bruno waited his turn with his mouth open and his tongue out, and when Adrián moved aside he lunged at me like his life depended on it. He licked my balls one by one, left them dripping wet, and then worked his way up the shaft with a slowness that made me clench my teeth. They kissed each other when they changed places, passing my taste from one mouth to the other, tongues out and a string of spit hanging from their chins. Under the water they touched each other’s cocks, alternating between theirs and mine with the coordination of a silent competition, measuring who was harder, who started leaking first.

—You two suck so well, fuck —I muttered with my head thrown back—. Suck me harder, take it all the way down.

Adrián answered by lifting his cock out of the water and spitting on it before putting it back in his mouth. Bruno ran a hand over his cousin’s neck and pushed him down to the bottom, holding him there for a couple of seconds. I could feel my balls tightening, my cock turning purple in Adrián’s mouth, and the thick vein underneath throbbing out of control.

Damián and Mateo were a meter away, joined at the waist, kissing as if time were running out on them. Mateo had his hand inside Damián’s shorts, his wrist moving slowly under the hot water. Hugo had crossed to the other side of the jacuzzi and was staring at the ceiling, though the curve of his shorts under the water said something else. When a big guy with a beard came up to him, Hugo said, without changing his voice:

—Leave me alone, I’m waiting my turn.

The guy got it and left. No one else came over.

I felt myself about to come, and I warned them with a gesture, fingers tightening in Bruno’s hair.

—I’m coming, I’m coming now, fuck, take it all.

As if they’d rehearsed it, the two of them took turns exactly with each spasm. Adrián swallowed the first load with my cock buried to the throat; the second shot landed on Bruno’s tongue, and he pulled his cousin’s cock out of his mouth just in time to catch it; the third and fourth they shared, pressing their tongues together and letting the semen spill between both mouths. Only a couple of drops hit the water, and Bruno drank them from below, ducking under for a second. I had never felt such pleasure with my feet in the water.

When they were done swallowing, I told them to climb onto the edge. They sat with their legs apart, cocks hard and pointing at my face, balls tight against their thighs. I got into the water in front of them and grabbed one in each hand, squeezing them at the base so the heads would swell more. Adrián had a long cock, curved upward, with a purplish tip; Bruno’s was thicker, shorter, with the veins standing out hard. I started with Adrián’s, taking it all in one shove until my nose buried itself in his pubic hair and he let out a broken moan. I licked his balls, worked my way up the shaft, held it in my throat for a while, and came up for air only to swallow Bruno’s with the same technique. I kept going back and forth without stopping my hand, squeezing, sliding up and down, spitting on both cocks so they’d slip better.

—Look at me, Bruno, don’t close your eyes —I told him with Adrián’s cock filling my mouth—. I want to see you come on my face.

Adrián came first. His thighs tightened, his stomach contracted, and he filled my mouth with a hot, thick spurt that slipped out the corners of my lips. I swallowed as much as I could, but I didn’t have time: the second burst hit my chin and dripped into the water. Bruno took a little longer, and Adrián jumped into the water to help me with his mouth too. We took turns, both sucking him together, tongues meeting on the head, giving wet kisses to the frenulum. Bruno growled, drove one hand into my neck, the other into Adrián’s, and pressed both our faces against his cock while he came. His cum mixed on my tongue with Adrián’s, sweet-and-sour and thick, running down our necks. The three of us hugged at the edge, cocks gone soft and hearts pounding, skin red from the hot water and semen still shining on our chins.

***

We went through the rest of the sauna. The dark room, the glory hole, the video booths. Adrián and I sat for a while in front of a screen with gay porn, but the looks from the guys waiting for a sign made us uncomfortable. We wrapped ourselves in towels and went to the bar.

I ordered a bourbon. Adrián, a tonic. The bartender wrote the drink on number 471 and told us we’d pay for everything at once on the way out. When the other four showed up wrapped in their towels, they all ordered tonic and water. We were tired, and it was only eight.

Hugo suggested we go to dinner. We paid 471, got dressed, and left. Mateo guided us to a pizzeria in the village. We ordered six different pizzas, cut into eight slices each, and rotated them plate by plate until we’d tried them all. Beer for the others. I drank little; beer makes me bloat.

***

At ten forty we arrived at the nightclub. Hugo bought the tickets, we went through the lockers, and got naked. The Naked Party had started. Damián put the money, condoms, and ID into a bag. A guy led us to a reserved corner table. Another waiter came to take our order. Hugo, Mateo, and Adrián ordered some weird colorful mixes. Damián and Bruno, gin and tonic. I ordered a bourbon, no ice, outside the drink package.

When the waiter came back, my glass was filled to the brim.

—Holy fucking shit, this is a triple —I said on the first sip.

—It’s twenty-three-year-old Pappy Van Winkle, just opened —the waiter answered, smiling—. Hugo ordered it.

—How the hell do you recognize a twenty-three-year-old Pappy? —Hugo asked.

—Because I don’t drink anything else.

The waiter, whose name was Sergio, was a friend of Hugo’s from the civil service exam they were preparing. That was why we had a corner table and why he had served me the whole bottle just for myself. It was agreed that the rest would be theirs at dawn and that next time I was the one being invited again. I thanked him.

Damián and Mateo spotted two guys at another table. From the gestures I knew what was going to happen before they even stood up. They came back half an hour later. Damián said, without lowering his voice, that he had fucked his guy twice on the floor of the dark hallway, that he had put his cock in the guy’s mouth first so he’d lubricate it well with spit and then had rammed him doggy-style without a condom until he came inside both times. Mateo had had worse luck: the kid got away crying before long, unable to take his full dick in his ass, and Mateo ended up grabbing him by the hair and shoving it into his mouth to shut him up, coming on his tongue without mercy.

—Sounds like rape to me —Hugo said, serious.

—They wanted it —Mateo replied, curtly—. We were just dancing. They were the ones who put their hands on us.

Damián turned to me.

—Same thing would happen to you, Iván. You fuck hard too and these guys would run from you.

I blushed. My face made it obvious that yes, it had already happened with everyone present, and none of them had run away, quite the opposite. Hugo raised an eyebrow, amused, without saying anything.

—I’m not getting out of that one —he laughed—. Well, yes I am. But I get the picture.

—I haven’t lost hope with you yet —I said.

Hugo moved his hand up and down, indicating he thought it was either nonsense or impossible. I preferred nonsense.

***

We danced in shifts. Hugo stayed at the table with one or another of us rotating to keep him company. The music was deafening and the DJ kept the energy up. At four in the morning it was all over. At the lockers, people were packed together, taking advantage of the crowd to grope other people’s asses and cocks.

A guy came up to me. He looked bad: puffy, lost-eyed, clearly high. He knew my name. He knew Bruno was my cousin. He tried to touch me. I pushed him away twice. He kept insisting.

The others arrived. Bruno planted himself in front of him.

—Leave my cousin alone, you asshole. I still remember that.

The guy left without arguing. I didn’t know what history Bruno had with him and I didn’t ask. I got dressed right there in the middle of everyone, and we went out into the cool dawn air.

Before we left, I went in with Hugo to say goodbye to Sergio. I found him tidying up, tired and dressed. I thanked him for the table, the bourbon, and told him, without thinking, that he was really handsome. Sergio returned the compliment and asked if I liked the village. He was from there. He worked two nights a week. We hugged before the other waiters came over to ask who “the bourbon guy” was.

***

At five thirty we were still awake. Hugo knew a churrería open at that hour in another village, half an hour away by road. We went. We had churros with chocolate for breakfast until our bellies couldn’t take any more, and by seven we were home. Uncle Marcos hadn’t gone to bed. He was waiting for us in the kitchen.

We went up to the room dragging our feet. Bruno, Adrián, and I looked at each other without needing to speak. We left our clothes on the floor, got into the shower the three of us, and lined up, first Adrián, then me, then Bruno. Adrián crouched down, bracing his hands against the tiles, his ass tilted up and his legs spread. I spit between his cheeks, ran two fingers over him, and drove my cock into him in one single thrust all the way in. He moaned, throwing his head back, and I started fucking him at the slow rhythm of someone who had spent the whole night waiting for that moment. Bruno pressed against my back the second after, spat in his hand, ran it over his cock, and shoved it into me. I felt my ass opening around his thick cock, the vein underneath standing out against my prostate, how every push from him drove me deeper into Adrián’s tight cunt.

—That’s it, cousin, fuck him hard, he takes it well —Bruno panted into my ear—. Tighten your ass, fuck, tighten it.

The chain moved in sync: Bruno pushed me, I pushed Adrián, Adrián held on to the taps so he wouldn’t slip. Hot water poured over us, washing away the sweat and old cum from the night. The three of us were breathing at the same pace, muscles taut, sliding on the tiles. Adrián started jerking off without letting go of the top grip, while still taking my cock with his hips pushed back.

—Come inside, assholes, I want you to leave me full —he begged, voice broken.

I bit his shoulder and sped up. Bruno was fucking me with short, hard thrusts, each one ripping a moan out of me that went straight to Adrián’s neck. When Bruno said he was close, we pulled apart for a second, clumsy, our cocks red and dripping, and the three of us got face to face, pressed together, shoulder to shoulder, stroking ourselves fast so we’d come together. I grabbed Adrián’s as well as my own; Bruno did the same with Adrián’s from the other side. We rubbed our cocks between six fists, our heads colliding, squeezing them against one another until it was impossible to tell whose hand was whose. I came first, with a long jet that splashed the tiles and Bruno’s stomach; Adrián let out a sharp moan and spilled over my hand and his own, one spurt after another staining his thighs; Bruno closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, and came last, a thick torrent hanging from his cock and mixing with the rest on the floor. It wasn’t exactly at the same time, but it was almost: one after another, the shower water washing everything away in an instant.

We dried off, got into bed with the sheet pulled up to our asses, and slowly curled together in a fetal position as the sun came in through the blinds. Bruno fell asleep first, his hand still on my hip.

I stayed awake for a while, thinking about the signature that morning, about my mother who knew nothing anymore, about the divorce to come. I was thinking that this send-off had been longer than I expected, and that Saturday still hadn’t begun.