The weathered road sign caught my eye immediately. Boyfriend Bang Beach? What a weird name for a village. I had been driving for days down US-1 with no specific destination in mind. My intuition would be my guide, like always, on this road trip. The journey had begun as a girl’s trip but I had lost my travel partner Rae somewhere near Boston. She met a nice big dick’d Irish guy at a pub and insisted that I just pick her back up on the way back to Brooklyn. Solo trips have always been more of my thing and I was happy to not have to share the aux cord with anyone so I didn’t protest her decision. The *ding-dong-ding* of my car diverts my attention away from the road and I realize I’m going to run out of gas soon..plus, I could use the opportunity to stretch my legs.
Thankfully I see the glory of a red, white and blue Marathon marquee ahead. I pull my black Audi A3 up to one of the pumps and wait for the attendant to come out. It was my favorite purchase of 2022, the first car that a man didn’t buy for me. This wait is taking forever but I turn my attention to the GPS, trying to locate Boyfriend Bang Beach on the map. It looks like it’s some type of resort but weirdly google isn’t providing much information. Suddenly I hear a voice over the loudspeaker calling for my attention.
I roll my eyes to myself, of course, it’s self-service. I’ve been driving most of this trip wearing only a thin spaghetti-strap sundress with no lingerie and wasn’t expecting to have physical interactions until it was time to check in to a hotel. For a moment, I consider grabbing at least a pair of panties from my luggage, but hey, this trip is all about having some thrills. Let’s give the locals a show.
My baby pink fingernails clank along the racks of Boyfriend Bang Beach-themed keychains. The name alone is hysterical, and it would be criminal not to pick up a few souvenirs for the gals back home. I gather up my prizes and a can of a sugar-free big can of Red Bull, then head to the checkout counter. A tanned couple meets my eyes and even in their branded uniforms, they are very attractive.
I’m caught off guard, not expecting such everyday model types to be behind the register. “You on the way to the resort?”, the female says with a queer smile. There’s a way that bi-sexual women will manage to silently send a message with their eyes. My gaze follows the curves of her body, “You tell me, should I be?”
It’s a tiki-themed couples-swapping resort where nudity and kink are encouraged. Sounds right up my fucking alley. Unicorn-ing is my passion and I’ve always wanted to be double penetrated. I should consider my accommodations for the night anyway. The male counterpart to this babe hasn’t said a word so far.
A quick glance over his package delights me, though. He’s half-hard but hung and not even fully swollen yet. It looks like I’ll be staying overnight in Boyfriend Bang Beach but only if these two can be my personal tour guides of sin. Finally, I get some names- Brit and Ben. The roadside signage piqued their interest after months of van-living on the way to Key West, and they opted never to leave.
Ben informs me that it’s time to close down the shop and offers for me to follow them to the resort. Brit rings the concierge and alerts the powers that be of my visit. No private rooms are available, but they insist I stay with them in their condo. Together we exit as they lock up for the evening. Meanwhile, I am simply daydreaming of the many positions I plan to find myself in throughout this layover. Her pussy in my mouth, his cock in my ass, all of our fingers all over the place. Before we drive off, I make it a point to place one of the Boyfriend Bang Beach keychains onto my keyring.
I knew this trip would be one for the memory books. Want to know what happened during my stay at Boyfriend Bang Beach? Give me a call on my phone sex line and be prepared for one of the craziest vacation stories you’ve ever heard.
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