jushorny
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 20, 2004
- Posts
- 30,422
Last final of the semester finally was over. I hurried back to my room, opened a beer and grabbed my suitcase from the closet. Finally it was vacation time. It had been a difficult first semester to my third year of college and I was looking for some down time. All that was left was packing and heading off to a party vacation with my best friend from high school. I was stoked for some relaxation, drinking, fun, beach time and pussy.
It had been almost two years since I’ve seen the guy that had been next to me for over twelve years. He was my best friend and we had shared many a good times together. We had conversations about our sexual conquests, we’d seen each other naked, talked about the girls we dreamed about, the girls we had fucked, and about our goals in life.
While in high school we covered each other’s back. We both chose out of state colleges and haven’t been able to get together given our schedules. We texted or talked on the phone daily and still remained close. It was his idea we go somewhere to party together and I was all for it.
Given our budget, we booked a trip that sounded as if it would give us the biggest bang for the buck. Little did we know just how big of a bang it would provide.
The place catered to twenty-somethings and touted itself as a party palace. They advertised miles of sandy beaches and hiking trails. Photos showed luxurious accommodations, sunny pools with swim up bars, several restaurants, and promised a continuous party atmosphere. We decided to share a room with two queen beds, mini-bar, and balcony. We had talked endlessly the past few weeks about the pussy we’d score.
We both flew to New York and traveled together form there. Once through customs in Jamaica, we hopped on the bus that would take us to our hotel. We got a beer from the driver and scored some pot for later. We talked the entire bus ride to the resort, anxious to catch up on each other’s lives.
We were half buzzed when the bus dropped us of at our destination. I didn’t notice the wink the man at the reception desk gave us when he told us the only rooms available had one king size bed. I was too stoked to party, relax and have a good time to worry about sleeping arrangements.
My best friend seems a bit more nervous and concerned about the situation.
“C’mon dude, we can work it out. Its fucking Jamaica and party time.” I said giving him a fist to the shoulder before leaning in to whisper, “Plus we scored some really good weed, let’s just take the room and go get high, have drink in the room, and go check out the beach or go for a hike.”
As we walked to our room I noticed many guys walking around and began to think we might need to travel to find girls. Inside our room I cracked a beer for us, lit a joint and took a big hit. I passed it to you and began stripping to change into my suit.
It had been almost two years since I’ve seen the guy that had been next to me for over twelve years. He was my best friend and we had shared many a good times together. We had conversations about our sexual conquests, we’d seen each other naked, talked about the girls we dreamed about, the girls we had fucked, and about our goals in life.
While in high school we covered each other’s back. We both chose out of state colleges and haven’t been able to get together given our schedules. We texted or talked on the phone daily and still remained close. It was his idea we go somewhere to party together and I was all for it.
Given our budget, we booked a trip that sounded as if it would give us the biggest bang for the buck. Little did we know just how big of a bang it would provide.
The place catered to twenty-somethings and touted itself as a party palace. They advertised miles of sandy beaches and hiking trails. Photos showed luxurious accommodations, sunny pools with swim up bars, several restaurants, and promised a continuous party atmosphere. We decided to share a room with two queen beds, mini-bar, and balcony. We had talked endlessly the past few weeks about the pussy we’d score.
We both flew to New York and traveled together form there. Once through customs in Jamaica, we hopped on the bus that would take us to our hotel. We got a beer from the driver and scored some pot for later. We talked the entire bus ride to the resort, anxious to catch up on each other’s lives.
We were half buzzed when the bus dropped us of at our destination. I didn’t notice the wink the man at the reception desk gave us when he told us the only rooms available had one king size bed. I was too stoked to party, relax and have a good time to worry about sleeping arrangements.
My best friend seems a bit more nervous and concerned about the situation.
“C’mon dude, we can work it out. Its fucking Jamaica and party time.” I said giving him a fist to the shoulder before leaning in to whisper, “Plus we scored some really good weed, let’s just take the room and go get high, have drink in the room, and go check out the beach or go for a hike.”
As we walked to our room I noticed many guys walking around and began to think we might need to travel to find girls. Inside our room I cracked a beer for us, lit a joint and took a big hit. I passed it to you and began stripping to change into my suit.