Back To California: Palm Springs

A year passed since I left California, as I took three and a half days to drive the distance from Fresno to Norfolk, Virginia, thinking of Eddie the entire ride.

"Wish we could've linked up once before I slid east. Guess things weren't meant to be," I texted him once I crossed over into Arizona in my pickup, overlooking the Colorado River as I was southbound, then driving along via I-40.

I was living in Fresno for four years, as I'm an electrician and took a temporary, high priority gig for an independent company outsourced by my company in Virginia. The money was great, and I had no one I was attached to so I could roam freely in and out of bedrooms, or would often throw out via the hookup apps that I could host in my three bedroom home, but rarely received any suitors in the Central Valley. In my four year tenure I managed to speak to and meet up with one guy, Eddie, a burly, older, gray, curly haired businessman that called Calabasas and Palm Springs home, but between his busy schedules, and of course being partnered to a guy, we only kissed twice, and never got down and dirty despite the videos we exchanged: one of him getting railed by another big, black dick, and of course mine when I had a fat sheriff riding me until he shot his load all over my truck seat, and me breeding him. The year passed and I hit up Eddie out of the blue.

"What you up to, hot stuff," I asked over the phone.

"Hey there. Just working, living life. How goes it? How's my favorite guy on the east coast," he said.

"You sure know how to flatter, you probably got a few of us," I told him.

I could hear him blushing as he claimed he only messed with guys from the midwest and

California.

"I can tell you right now the only guy I'd want to play with lives in Virginia. I'd been thinking about you," he said. "Kinda glad you hit me out the blue like this."

Eddie in his 59-year-old lively character didn't have to entertain my call, as at that moment he happened to be in Palm Springs, living life.

"I'm all alone in the desert right now. Should be here for a couple of months. I could use some company," he told me.

I was thinking for a moment that he and his partner split, but he killed that notion and just stated he'd been on his best behavior.

"Ain't had no dick in a while, or a meaningful dinner to share with the guy attached to it. I should've sucked you dry before you left, and maybe you wouldn't have left," he said.

That made us both laugh as we knew that wasn't possible, but Eddie, despite us never being intimate besides our lips meeting, had a thing about him that made me want nothing more but to give him the dick down he deserved.

"Come meet me out here in Palm Springs for a weekend," he said to me.

"You make it sound so easy," I told him, as I thought about the moves I needed to make at work in order for some quality time off.

"May not be easy, but its damn sure worth it. Come naked in the pool with me," he said.

"Come out here and let me drain you dry."

He said that last statement and I was stone hard, rubbing myself in my shorts and as my crotch turned greasy. I booked a flight for the following weekend, leaving out of Dulles on a Friday morning and landing in Palm Springs in the mid afternoon the same day.

"Bring daddy that cock so daddy can take care of you finally," he said.

I put in for time off by texting my boss the same day I was on the phone with Eddie, and she approved it, and the next Thursday I drove up north to park my crash and park my ride at a friend's place just 20 minutes from Dulles International. I made a video of me jerking off in the bedroom I slept in, then sent it to Eddie.

"So you're gonna waste all that cum," he said to me the next morning as I boarded the plane. "You better save me some."

He didn't need to fret as I'm one who busts pretty easily even at 40, and I shoot in abundance when enticed the way Eddie was capable of doing. I had a connecting flight in Chicago, then would land in Palm Springs at 2 p.m. local time, with him waiting for me in the airport lobby, smiling, donning a Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts and shades as he was looking the most scrumptious.

"Welcome to the desert, baby," he said to me as he kissed me in the open, as in Palm Springs amongst gay men there were almost no taboos.

He played gentleman and even grabbed my bag, then we briskly walked to his Cadillac, which was parked on the curb outside.

"You just do what you want," I told him as we entered the car.

"I do, including you," he said as he entered the car, taking off his shades then reaching over the middle console to give me tongue action. "My hole is bouncing with joy right now."

We hurried to his place in Palm Desert, a little suburb of the actual Palm Springs as he damned near ran the red lights while his right hand caressing my dick as I had it out. We kept it casual, him looking forward, determined with his blue eyes while I looked out the side of the passenger window, trying to pretend like I wasn't on the verge of shooting.

"I'm going to mangle this dick the entire weekend you're here," he said, as he started slowly stroking me.

We'd hit a traffic jam of sorts and he continued rubbing my tip despite us stopping.

"Eddie you might want to stop that," I told him.

"Stop what? I ain't stopping ever, this is my fat, black cock," he said to me.

I couldn't keep my composure as much as at first, leaning the seat back and closing my eyes as that played right into his hands.

"That's it, relax baby, and let daddy get load number one out of you," he said.

He claimed he wish he had three hands as the other would've rubbed my balls while he gave the handjob. He mentioned this was the first time in months he'd done something like this, as it was some business partner of his and they didn't even touch, they simply jerked off in a room while sitting across from each other.

"You're gonna make me mess up my outfit," I said.

"So what. That's what the washing machine is for. Shoot that nut," he said so subtly. "Shoot it."

He started rubbing me harder and had me sweating, me moaning in such an embarrassing manner that I didn't want him to hear.

"Let that cock spit out so daddy can taste," he said to me.

I was squirming, my feet pressed against the floor of the Cadillac as he had me on the brink, I opened my eyes as we started moving slow, and noticed to my right a lifted pickup truck, with an older, tattooed white guy staring and smiling behind shades.

"Buddy wants to see you blow, too, baby," Eddie said. "Shoot it."

I let loose, screaming to the top of my lungs as Eddie kept stroking and cheering me on like a mad man. The spunk splashed upward, with some landing on the dash, on my shorts, and of course on my belly and chest, and Eddie looking at me, smiling, saying that he wished he could lick it all up. Instead he licked his hand, and I opened my eyes again to see the other guy in the pickup smiling and nodding, before he sped off.

"I hope you're ready," he told me. "That dick is gonna be shriveled when you leave."

That relaxed me, and had me ready for whatever was to come.