What the resort offered wasn’t in the brochure

We had been waiting months for that trip. My parents were celebrating twenty-eight years of marriage and had decided the occasion deserved something big: a luxury resort in Punta Cana, premium-class flights, and two weeks of not thinking about anything. My older brother couldn’t come because of a work commitment, so I was lucky —or unlucky, depending on how you look at it— to go with my parents alone. Separate rooms, of course. Needless to say.

The flight was an endless torture. Nine hours that felt like twenty, with turbulence in the middle of the Atlantic and a baby crying two rows behind us. When we finally landed at Las Américas and got on the transfer, the Caribbean humidity hit me like a punch. I could barely keep my eyes open during the hour-long drive to the resort.

The first sight of the hotel left me breathless. It was enormous, a complex lost among palm trees and white paths. After check-in they introduced us to our personal butler, a detail I wasn’t used to. The idea of having someone keeping an eye on me at all times felt more awkward than comforting. He guided us through the exclusive area while a bellboy pushed our suitcases, pointing out the gym, the event rooms, the access to the private beach and the six restaurants in the complex.

At twenty-five, I still hadn’t traveled as much as I’d have liked, and I had never been anywhere with this level of service. I was determined to make the most of every inch of the place.

After recording the usual room video to send to my best friend, I took a quick shower and went down to dinner with my parents before the restaurants closed. The idea was to fill up and collapse into bed to fight the jet lag.

It worked. As soon as my head touched the pillow on that huge bed, I lost consciousness until seven the next morning.

I went out onto the terrace to watch the sunrise. Dozens of employees moved through the gardens getting everything ready: raking the sand, lining up the loungers, serving the first coffees. I met my parents at eight-thirty for breakfast.

After breakfast, they went to the main pool and I headed straight down to the beach. I chose a secluded lounger in an area where there was almost nobody, and stayed there looking at the horizon for a long while. The sun was starting to beat down and the thirst became unbearable. There was a little beach bar beside the palm grove and I walked over.

—Good morning —I said.

—Hello, amigo, how’s it going? What can I get you? —the bartender replied, a man with the most genuine smile I’d seen in days.

—Well, I don’t know… what do people order here?

—The very best, the pineapple. Anything with pineapple here turns out delicious, brother.

—A piña colada then.

—Coming right up. You go on and settle in, they’ll bring it to your lounger.

I went back to lying down with that strange feeling service gives you when you’re not used to it. I closed my eyes behind my sunglasses and let the sound of the sea lull me.

Less than five minutes had passed when a voice made me open my eyes.

—Sir, with pleasure. Your nice, cold piña colada.

It took me a moment to react. The waiter standing in front of me had to be around my age. Cinnamon skin, firm arms, a lean build, not very tall. The white uniform badge said “Mateo.”

—Uh, thanks. Thank you very much —I stammered.

—If you don’t mind, could I have the room number? It’s to confirm you’re in the exclusive area.

—Ten thousand seven hundred and thirty-one.

—All right. Everything’s in order. Anything you need, I’m around this area. At your service.

Mateo walked away and I turned as discreetly as I could to look at him from behind. The uniform emphasized his waist. When he reached the bar, I took a sip of the drink and almost let out a sigh. It was delicious. Too delicious, really: the alcohol could barely be tasted, but it was definitely stronger than it should have been.

I felt so comfortable that I dozed off again. Luckily, it was only for a few minutes before my phone vibrated on my towel. My parents were already at the restaurant waiting for me. I looked for Mateo before leaving, but I didn’t see him.

The three of us ate together, talking about the place, how well organized everything was, the heat. Then we went back to the room to rest and, as expected, the bed made me its prisoner again. I dropped dead into a two-hour nap.

I got up a little disoriented, with only one thought in mind: to get into the shower and wake myself up. My parents were wandering around the hotel. I was just about to step into the bathroom with the towel around my waist when someone knocked on the door.

It was the butler. He was asking whether I needed anything, whether everything was in order. With one hand I held the towel so it wouldn’t fall to the floor and with the other the door. An awkward, brief, formal conversation. When he finally left, I stepped under the warm water for a long ten minutes.

I had dinner with my parents, had a drink at the lobby bar, and went back to the room. Again, I slept straight through.

***

The second day started just like the first. I woke at seven, procrastinated a bit on my phone, had breakfast with my parents and went down to the beach. I chose the same secluded lounger again.

Less than five minutes had passed when that familiar voice startled me.

—Amigo, here’s your delicious pineapple so you don’t get too hot.

—But I didn’t order it.

—No problem. Everything here is included and my job is to make sure you have a good time.

—Well, I couldn’t be better off —I said without thinking.

—That’s how it should be. Enjoy it, and as soon as you finish it I’ll bring you another.

—Thanks, Mateo.

—At your service!

This second drink was even better than the one the day before. Less boozy, colder, more pineapple. I savored it slowly while spying on Mateo over the top of my sunglasses. I had noticed the way he joked with other guests, always with that same attentive smile. But when he looked at me, the smile had something different in it. Something I couldn’t read.

He came back before I finished it.

—Let’s see that glass —it’s warm already, right? Here’s the next one.

—You’re going to do me in.

—Here we do everything well, brother.

—I don’t doubt it.

—Anything else I can get you?

—I’m fine, thanks.

In my head, though, there was another answer. He could serve me in many other ways. He could serve me in my room, on my bed, for the rest of the afternoon.

I didn’t know if it was the sun, the two drinks in a row, or what was running through my mind, but I was starting to sweat in a strange way.

—That glass is very full. Don’t you like it? I can change it, no problem.

—It’s just that I don’t usually drink, and I think it’s already starting to hit me.

—Want a soda or some water, brother? Ask for whatever you need.

—Water, please.

He took less than two minutes to come back with a frozen bottle. I drank it almost in one gulp.

—Are you okay? Should I call someone?

—It’s the heat and the drink mixed together. It’s nothing.

—I’m going to run some errands and I’ll be back. If you feel bad, I’ll take you to the infirmary or wherever you want.

—I’m not keeping you. Go on.

I closed my eyes and tried to control the racing pulse. It wasn’t the alcohol, I knew that perfectly well. It was Mateo. It was that polite, service-minded tone that suddenly sounded like something else whenever he looked me straight in the eyes.

When my heartbeat settled, I sat up in the lounger. Mateo appeared a few seconds later.

—Feeling better, amigo?

—Much better.

—Good.

—I think I’m going back up to the room and get out of the sun for a while.

—Shall I walk you up?

—I’m fine, don’t worry. You’re very kind.

—Whatever you need, brother.

I went up to the room, washed my face, and lay on the bed with my phone. The air conditioning brought me back to life in five minutes. I was practically recovered when someone knocked on the door.

It was Mateo.

—Everything okay, right? I didn’t feel right about it, brother, in case you weren’t feeling well.

—Much better, the air helped.

At that very moment my phone rang on the nightstand.

—Come in for a second, don’t stand in the hallway, I’ll grab this.

Mateo came in and stayed right by the entrance, with the door slowly closing behind him. It was my parents, telling me they were on a catamaran activity and that we’d meet in an hour and a half for lunch. I hung up quickly.

—I was saying the cold air helped me. I hardly ever drink, so it goes straight to my head.

—You feel alcohol fast here. Especially the first few days. A lot of Americans drink themselves stupid and end up wrecked.

—I can imagine, you must see all kinds of things.

Only then did I realize I was in my boxers. I had taken off my swim trunks before lying down and had completely forgotten. A different kind of heat crawled up my neck.

—Sorry about the way I’m receiving you, look at me.

—You’re in your own house. It doesn’t bother me.

The tone shifted again. I looked at him. We held each other’s gaze in silence, not pretending otherwise. His eyes went from my face to my torso and back. Mine traced his short uniform, his cinnamon skin, the line of his jaw.

—Can I ask you something?

—Of course. At your service.

—When they say it’s all-inclusive, does that include you?

Mateo looked at me steadily for a few seconds. He didn’t move.

—I’m here to make sure you enjoy your stay, in everything I can offer.

—And what can you offer me?

—You ask.

—I want you to come closer.

He didn’t hesitate for an instant. He crossed the room and stopped a few centimeters from my face.

—Do you have time? I don’t want to get you in trouble.

—As much as it takes. You’re in charge.

—Can I take your clothes off?

He didn’t answer. He began unbuttoning his shirt with a calmness that made me nervous. When he was done, I pulled it off him without effort and dropped it on the chair. His torso was completely tanned, the abs defined, the shoulders rounded. I wrapped my hands around his waist, pulled him toward me, and went for his mouth without any preamble.

The kiss was immediate, hungry. He tasted like mint, probably from chewing gum. Our teeth bumped at some point in the rush to find each other. My cock was already hard and, when I brought my hand down to feel him through his pants, his was hard too. Very hard.

I pulled back a little and started kissing his neck, his collarbone, his pecs, his nipple, his abdomen. I went down slowly, working him over with my mouth, until I was kneeling in front of him.

He held my head gently. I unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down. A patch of neatly trimmed black hair appeared and, just beneath it, something I hadn’t expected.

When the pants reached his ankles, what was in front of me was easily twenty-two centimeters, and no slender little thing. He was by far the most well-endowed guy I’d ever been with. I took the base in one hand and started stroking him slowly, watching his breathing change and his lower lip disappear between his teeth.

He was hot, throbbing, and the dark head was begging for my mouth. I closed my eyes and went in. I took him between my lips and worked down as far as I could. Mateo didn’t let go of my head, but at first he let me set the rhythm. I went up and down slowly, covering him in saliva. Because of the size, barely more than half fit in my mouth. Little by little he took over and started fucking my mouth carefully, measuring every thrust. I clenched my lips and worked him with my tongue as much as I could.

After a few minutes like that, I pulled away.

—Fuck me, please.

—Are you sure?

—Please.

—Get on the bed. No clothes.

I did, with the absurd embarrassment of taking off the last garment in front of him. I felt self-conscious about my body after having seen his, but that was what was next.

—Get on all fours.

I obeyed. I stuck my ass up and he came closer without wasting a second. He started eating my hole with an intensity I hadn’t expected. His tongue moved fast, hard, opening me little by little, while one finger went in and out slowly to help stretch me. He knew perfectly well what was coming next and I thanked every minute of that preparation.

After five minutes like that, he stopped. I rested my head on the sheet and turned my face. I saw him grip his rock-hard cock with his hand and guide it toward my entrance. I closed my eyes.

—Relax, here it comes.

—Do it.

He started pushing the tip in. It hurt. I held on, but he stayed there long enough for me to breathe. When he advanced another centimeter, I couldn’t help complaining.

—I’m going to get some lube.

He came back in seconds with the moisturizing cream from the bathroom. He coated his cock generously and squirted a good amount on me, helping with his fingers to spread it inside. He positioned himself again and pushed. The first half went in almost without me noticing. After that I could still feel it, but it was bearable. He did everything very slowly, very patiently, until after a long quarter of an hour he was all the way inside.

—Is that all of it?

—All of it, baby. And now comes the best part.

I didn’t have time to answer. He started moving slowly and pounding without stopping, with a perfect rhythm. I let myself fall onto my forearms and gave him my ass completely. I have no idea how long he stayed like that. He pulled it all the way out and drove it back in without hesitation; then he switched to short, fast thrusts; then started again. It was by far the best fucking of my life, and I was having it in the middle of the Caribbean without even looking for it.

—I’m just about to finish.

—Wait. Can it be in another position?

—Of course. Which one?

—Lie on your back.

He lay down instantly, his cock throbbing toward the ceiling. I climbed on top, braced myself on his thighs, and lowered myself slowly. He went in with no resistance. We looked into each other’s eyes in silence while I sat down all the way and he held my hips to guide me. I had never had anything so deep inside me.

I started riding him. He moved with my hips from below. A few minutes later I closed my eyes and felt the contractions. I was going to come without needing to touch myself.

—I’m going to come, keep going, keep going…

Mateo sat up just enough to bring his mouth to my cock and let my load fill his lips without flinching. Meanwhile, he sped up his thrusts from below. The contractions of my sphincter around him did the rest. He let out a contained growl and emptied himself inside me. I counted at least five hot spurts.

We stayed still for a few seconds, trying to breathe. We were soaked, the room smelled of sweat and sex. I got up carefully, covered myself with my hand out of reflex, and went straight to the bathroom.

—Do you want to shower?

—No, brother, I don’t have time. I’ll steal some water, though, you left me nice and dry.

—No problem.

Mateo dried himself with one of my towels, dressed in thirty seconds, and left the room as if nothing had happened.

I got in the shower and let the water wash me clean, inside and out. My parents were waiting for me to have lunch.

During lunch they asked if I wanted to go into the city the next day, sightseeing. I turned down the invitation without thinking. I preferred to stay at the hotel.

I took a nap. Mateo’s scent was still in my bed and, just thinking about what had happened there a few hours earlier, I got hard again. I tried to calm myself down. I needed to rest.

What I didn’t know was that the next day was going to be even better.