The sun had slipped behind the mountains by the time Martin and Daniel called the boys inside. The house glowed with warm light, candles flickering on low tables, the pool lit from beneath like liquid sapphire. Music hummed softly from hidden speakers, already building the mood.
In the guest suite, Martin laid two neatly folded garments on the bed. “Gentlemen,” he said with a smile, “these are for you. Consider them your uniforms for tonight. Guests will be arriving in about thirty minutes, so be dressed, ready, and at the door to welcome them.”
Jake and Skip leaned over the bed, eyes widening. The speedos were jet black with bold gold piping, the sides made from a sheer mesh that hinted at skin tone beneath. They were sleek, striking, and unapologetically designed to draw attention.
Skip shot Jake a wicked grin. “Well, these aren’t from Target.”
Martin chuckled, clearly amused by their reaction. “Let’s just say they’re… curated.”
When the men left them to change, the boys stood grinning at each other in the quiet room. Jake raised an eyebrow. “Enhancement?”
Skip winked. “Enhancement.”
They each dug into their bags, producing slim steel cock rings, sliding them on with practiced ease. “Nothing wrong with a little… edge,” Jake said, tugging the waistband into place.
Then they stepped into the new briefs, pulling the black-and-gold fabric snug. The mesh sides revealed just enough to tease, the contrast against their tan skin dramatic. They turned in the mirror, striking mock poses.
“Fuck yea,” Skip said, flexing with a laugh. “Show Time.”
Jake nodded, smoothing a hand down his hip. “Hosts of the year. Let’s do this.”
The sound of a car pulling into the drive floated through the open window. They exchanged one last grin, hearts pounding with anticipation, before stepping out toward the front entry—ready to welcome Palm Springs to a night no one would forget.
The first knock on the glass front door came just as Jake and Skip took their positions. They exchanged one last grin, then opened it wide with practiced charm.
A chic couple in linen and loafers stepped inside, greeted by warm smiles and trays of champagne already in hand.
“Welcome!” Jake said brightly, offering flutes.
“You look incredible,” Skip added with a grin, motioning them toward the patio where lanterns floated on the glowing pool.
Within minutes, another group arrived—three men in crisp desert casual, laughing as though they’d already had a few cocktails. The boys were quick to swoop in, shaking hands, complimenting ties, sliding glasses into waiting hands.
By the third wave of arrivals, the energy was buzzing. The house seemed to hum with conversation and music, light spilling out onto the patio where clusters of guests gathered around the bar and pool.
Jake and Skip moved like currents through water—circulating, topping off drinks, sparking conversations. Their black-and-gold briefs shimmered in the lights, catching more than a few admiring glances.
As the champagne flowed, so did the familiarity. Hands lingered longer on shoulders, compliments became bolder.
Skip found himself laughing with a trio near the bar when one of them, emboldened by rosé, gave his backside a quick squeeze.
Skip’s eyes went wide for dramatic effect before he smirked and swatted the man’s hand lightly. “Now you behave there, mister!” he said with mock sternness, sending the whole group into laughter.
Across the patio, Jake caught the moment and just shook his head with a grin, raising his glass in salute.
The boys kept moving, socializing with ease, their energy perfectly tuned—confident, playful, magnetic. Exactly what Martin and Daniel had envisioned: perfect host in every way.
Later in the evening, Martin and Daniel found themselves at the patio bar with a longtime couple they’d known for years. The men were both in pale linen, martinis in hand, leaning close to be heard over the music and laughter drifting across the pool.
“You two,” one of them said with a grin, “never fail. Every year, without exception—you throw the best parties in Palm Springs.”
Daniel chuckled, clinking glasses. “We do try.”
The other leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially as his gaze swept toward Jake and Skip, who were laughing with a group by the fire pit. The glow of the flames caught the sheen of their black-and-gold swimwear, making the fabric shimmer like stage costumes.
“And those two…” the guest continued, “…where on earth did you find them? Absolutely adorable and physically stunning. They look like they’ve stepped straight off a magazine spread. That tailoring—my god, those speedos, the sheer fabcic on the sides giving a hit of . .. . could cause a traffic jam on Palm Canyon Drive.”
Martin allowed himself a sly smile. “Let’s just say… curated talent.”
The first guest smirked, swirling his martini. “Any chance we’ll get a little… encore performance later in the evening? Perhaps a dip in the pool, or something that shows off those—what did someone call them?—cotton tails?”
Daniel raised his brows, feigning innocence. “Oh, I wouldn’t make any guarantees.” He let the words hang in the air for a beat before adding with a wink, “But if our young hosts decide to surprise us all with something… spirited… well, that’s entirely up to them.”
The two guests laughed, clearly delighted, exchanging knowing looks. “Splendid. Simply splendid.”
Across the patio, Jake caught Martin’s eye just then, as if sensing the conversation. Martin lifted his glass in a subtle toast. Jake responded with a grin that said he was more than ready to keep the night electric.
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