The bass line kicked in, deep and sultry, sending a ripple of excitement through the patio. Lights from the pool shimmered against the palms, casting everything in a desert glow.
Jake and Skip stepped forward like pros, grins wide, shoulders loose, every move exaggerated for the crowd. Skip gave a mock runway strut, swinging his hips just enough to send laughter and cheers soaring. Jake spun into a playful dance step, reaching out to clap a guest’s hand before twirling away.
The energy fed on itself—guests whistled, clapped in rhythm, and waved bills in the air like it was a glamorous cabaret. The boys leaned into it, moving from group to group, spinning, flexing, and throwing winks like confetti.
A guest slipped a crisp twenty into Skip’s armband, and the patio howled with delight. Another guest tucked a bill neatly at Jake’s hip, and he made a show of giving a mock gasp before flashing a grin and moving on. The playful exchange became part of the performance itself.
Then Martin, grinning ear to ear, stepped forward with Daniel beside him. Both men raised their glasses in salute before leaning in, each tucking generous bills—fifties and hundreds—deep into the front of the boys speedos with a flair, confirming that both were wearing cock rings and that made the crowd roar.
Jake laughed, throwing his arms wide like a showman. “Guess we’re officially part of the tradition now!” he shouted over the music.
Skip winked, shimmying past Daniel with a laugh. “And we’re just getting started!”
The boys danced on, weaving through the guests, arms over shoulders, moving to the beat, while the patio erupted into applause and laughter. By the time the track ended, their armbands and waistbands were decorated with bills, and the air buzzed with pure party magic.
As the music faded, the crowd erupted into cheers, champagne glasses raised high. The boys bowed dramatically, catching their breath, grins plastered across their faces.
The chant started again, softer this time, but filled with glee: “Cotton tails, cotton tails…”
Jake shot Skip a look, both of them laughing, glowing in the spotlight of it all.
A Martin slipped the boys a sleek leather bag, motioning for them to tuck their haul safely inside. Jake and Skip stuffed the bills in with a laugh, still buzzing from the cheers, while the chant of “Cotton tails, cotton tails…” rose again, louder, rhythmic now, pulsing with the beat of the party.
Skip glanced at Jake, eyes twinkling with mischief. And whispered into Jakes ear
“I’ve got an idea…”
He tugged Jake’s arm, and together they wove through the crowd, playful and deliberate, until they reached the edge of the pool. The glowing water reflected gold and sapphire from the lights strung overhead, a perfect stage.
Skip turned back to the crowd, raising his hand high. “Alright, count it down with me!”
“FIVE!” he shouted.
The crowd echoed, glasses in the air: “FIVE!”
“FOUR!”
They were laughing now, catching the rhythm, stamping feet, clapping hands.
“THREE!”
The chant was thunderous, filling the warm desert night.
“ONE!”
Jake and Skip exchanged a wink—just a flash of secret communication between them—they grabbed the waist bands of their speedos, and in one fluid motion, pulled them to their ankles, kicked them behind them, giving the everyone a perfect view of their crisp white gym built 20 year old cotton tails, before leaping together in a clean, synchronized dive.
The pool exploded with a splash of glittering water, sending waves across the patio. Guests roared, applauded, and leaned closer to the pool’s edge as the boys surfaced, slick hair shining under the lights, grinning like they owned the night.
The chant dissolved into laughter and applause, voices overlapping— “Only in Palm Springs!” … “That was fabulous!” … “Best anniversary party yet!”
Martin leaned toward Daniel, chuckling as he raised his champagne flute.
“Darling,” he said, eyes on the boys climbing back out of the water, “I do believe we chose perfectly.”
Daniel smiled. “Oh, without question.”
“Best show yet!” someone shouted.
“Only in Palm Springs!” another added.
Skip surfaced first, slicking his hair back, while Jake popped up nearby, both of them laughing, adrenaline buzzing through their veins. They paddled lazily through the glowing water, looking up at the crowd gathered poolside.
Jake nudged Skip with his elbow, smirking. “Okay… we gave them the tease. Now what do you think happens next?”
Skip shrugged, treading water, eyes scanning the sea of delighted faces above. “Guess we’ll find out. Feels like the night’s just getting started.”
The applause still rippled across the patio as Martin and Daniel, smiling like kings surveying their court, raised their glasses again. The boys swam in slow circles, water shimmering around them, waiting to see just how far Palm Springs tradition would carry them.
Jake and Skip climbed out of the pool, dripping, water gleaming on their shoulders. Jake looked around and called out, “Hey—any chance we can get a towel?”
Before Martin or Daniel could answer, a guest near the bar raised his glass with a wicked grin. “Nope! Cotton tails air dry!”
The crowd burst out laughing, clapping in agreement. Jake and Skip exchanged a look, shrugged, and then laughed right along with everyone else. They padded across the patio barefoot, water trailing behind them, their speedo tan lines, now on full display, the center of conversation.
From there, the boys leaned into it—mingling, fetching drinks, posing for SFW photos, and even dancing a little more when the music swelled again. If anything, the playful twist only added to their charm.
As the night wound down and the guests began to drift out, Skip and Jake took on the role of perfect hosts, showing people to the door, offering hugs, handshakes, and a cheerful: “Thanks for coming, drive safe!” The last few laughs and whistles followed them as the desert night grew quiet again.
Finally, with the patio lights dimmed and only the sound of the pool filters humming, Martin and Daniel approached the boys. Both men were smiling, glasses of champagne in hand.
“Gentlemen,” Martin said warmly, “you were everything we hoped for and more. Stunning, charming, and perfectly willing to play along with the cotton tail tradition. Our friends are going to be talking about tonight for years.”
Daniel nodded. “A job very well done. Now, if you want to throw something on and hit a club, please do. Palm Springs is still buzzing at this hour. As for us…” He raised his glass in salute. “We’re calling it a night.”
The boys grinned, still damp, still glowing with energy. Skip leaned toward Jake and whispered, “What do you think—hit the town, or crash here?”
Jake smirked. “After a night like this? Kinda feels like we can do anything.”
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