A gay sex stories: Geoff and Chet Ch. 25 Chapter 25 New Orleans Race and the Riverboat Party.
Author’s note: All characters are over 18. All persons, places and events are fictional. Comments are always welcome. Copyright, 2023, All rights reserved.
Chet’s POV
We arrived about an hour before dinner and busied ourselves sorting through gear and checking our bikes. We had asked for a special room for the team dinner although we did use the hotel all-you-can-ear Cajun buffet which featured a variety of New Orleans specialties. The guys really loaded on carbs, possibly putting the hotel in the red for the weekend! As we finished, I provided details on the morning’s departure time and place. The bus will return here to the hotel after the meet—and you can load luggage into the bus that you don’t need here for the return to Houston on Sunday. The managers will get our gear and bikes into the vans. You’re free after that. The bus will leave the hotel for the riverboat at 6—but I have details available for anyone who wants to get there by other means. The boat “sails” at seven. It’ll return at around midnight, but the riverboat will be available for a shore side party for anyone who wishes to stay until 2 a.m.
“Every team member and our support staff will be given chits for the buffet dinner on board and drink tickets on the riverboat. They do accept credit cards beyond that. We are not responsible for gambling losses and the casino is not part of our charter. We strongly recommend using uber, taxi or walking. Please don’t plan to drive. Be careful. You’re on your own after we dock. The bus will leave from the hotel parking lot at 4 sharp Sunday. For those of you who have signed up to return here tomorrow night, you’ve been given a room number as we will be doing some consolidating. I know at least half of you have other plans.” There was a ripple of laughter and some remarks about dates. “The team manager will have room keys after the meet for those coming back here. You guys are great. Have a great race. It’s been a terrific year. Let’s make it worth celebrating. And thanks to Amazon for their support. And to my room mate, Geoff Peters for making the contacts with the river boat for us. He’s going to join us at the meet tomorrow morning.”
We left the dining room in high spirits. Most of us headed for our rooms. Curfew was only an hour away. But, a few met dates before turning in and I do think there may have been some room shuffling. Geoff was due to arrive around 11, but he was staying at a different hotel. He texted me when the flight arrived.
Meet day, the first Saturday in November, was bright, hot and humid. The course was historic—mostly a long ride along the Mississippi bayou, flat and pastoral with a start and finish on the Loyola campus and following city streets to the river above New Orleans—avoiding the busier Garden District and the French Quarter—even though at such an early time, most partiers would still be sleeping. Many streets were going to be shut temporarily and New Orleans police and Louisiana Highway Patrol would escort along the 104 mile course. Start time was scheduled for 8 a.m.—and the race would be over around lunch time. It was a very tough race for us. I couldn’t be sure how Pete and Reg would act as members of the team and I had premonitions of a loss. We drew first position and again employed the fast break strategy that had become our hallmark. In many ways, the conditions were typical to those we had experienced so often in Houston. And we did prevail. My time was once again the best I had posted for the year. Reg and Chet were predictably within tenths of the second. Apparently Reg was more concerned about his future than punishing Chet in any way. But the UMiami captain edged out Chet for third place. We took overall team time honors and two of the three spots on the winners’ podium. We were jubilant. My fears were unwarranted. We remained undefeated for the season for the first time in club history. It was time to party.
Most of us decided to change at the hotel to maximize our free time and thus skipped the gym lockers at Loyola. And so, right around lunch time, Geoff drove up in a yellow antique Cadillac convertible—from his cousin’s collection. He was in shorts and a polo. And there were two very hot young blondes in the car with him. I jumped into the back seat with Tiffany. She pushed her dark glasses up and hugged and congratulated me—acting for all as a long term girlfriend. Kimberley introduced herself from the front seat. Both were dressed in light sundresses, were deeply tanned, and had Louisiana drawls that made me feel like a northerner! I sure hope a team mate or two witnessed the pickup. And so we drove off to lunch.
We had a great afternoon touring and shopping in the French Quarter after a delicious “crawdaddy” lunch accompanied by champagne followed by a chilled chablis. Later we returned to Geoff’s suite at the Windsor. The ladies headed to the hotel spa for their Geoff-financed makeover while Geoff provided my personalized spa services. As usual my services included his meticulous massage of my sore gluteus muscles and my inner and front thigh muscles, followed by his massive insertion into my shaft and the expert massage of my prostate “muscle” as my cock squirmed in his tight lubed fist. We both reached satisfaction. We had checked another state off our sex list. Then, we showered and changed.
Both of us had brought appropriate party outfits—”big” white linen button up shirts, tight black jeans and straw boaters with Rice color ribbons. Minutes later the ladies emerged into the parlor of the suite with knockout sequined tops (one in lime green, the other in aqua) and white leather micro minis. They had spikey heels (which I guess they would lose within minutes of arrival on the river boat) and chunky Mardi Gras bracelets. Their long hair had been combed out and hung in long loose curls. The makeup was professional. Definitely head turners.
“We’re going to leave the car here and uber to the boat. It’s only a few blocks, but I can’t imagine you beautiful young ladies maneuvering on those brick sidewalks with those shoes!” We looped our arms in theirs to provide some stability and headed for the lobby.
We arrived at the boat just as the bus arrived with most of the team. Beau had reserved one of the smaller floors of the boat which also had an open air terrace. He had been invited to join us and greeted Geoff like a brother. “A’m really pleased to be with y’all tonight—champs, kin, and beauties. Welcome to my little town and my little boat.” Lights were already blazing and a Dixieland band greeted our arrival. Trays of champagne were at the ready. The guys and their dates had pulled out all the stops. Everyone was dressed and ready to party. In fact, it did appear that many had already started as several young ladies hung languidly on their proud dates. I hope the boat has some private spaces. I think we are going to need them.
Just as we were reaching the gangplank, a white stretch limo pulled up. The driver raced around to open the doors for Reg and his knockout date—later, we learned she was a former Miss Louisiana. She was gorgeous, of medium dark skin and with long straight black hair, large violet eyes, and a fashion model’s willowy figure—and full-lipped pout. But he was even more of a spectacle, as we had come to expect. He was in a white suit with a short “Eisenhower” jacket that fell just at the top of his bankable ass and focused eyes on the outline of his famous dick through the shear tight white fabric of the jean-cut pants. It almost appeared that he was wearing a football cup and jock on the outside because of contrast stitching! Was this to be CK’s next bombshell fashion must? (Not for me!) His translucent linen shirt was tied with a purple and yellow bow tie. He could have been the MC of a minstrel show.