I Was the Communal Cock at VACAYA's Floating Red Light District

You wanted my dick? It was all yours.

Illustration by Eric Lesh (@edldraws)

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As y’all know, I recently partnered with VACAYA and attended their LBGTQ+ takeover in Puerto Vallarta over Halloween. The all-inclusive resort had everything: a spa, pool, clothing-optional sky deck (my peen was out), beach access, open bars, gym (which I did not use once), 24-hour room service (which I used daily), and the like.

But I’m not here to talk about all the elaborate dinners and parties VACAYA threw; I’m here to talk about the Redlight District. Every night, VACAYA chartered a BDSM double-decker catamaran, where I—how do I put this delicately—got some mad bussy.

Here’s what happened on my first evening out at sea.

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I was lying on the beach, looking at the evening horizon—where the dark blue water meets the black sky—when I saw a ghostship. She was a few hundred feet in the distance, rocking back and forth on the wavy sea. Her bright red lights cut through the evening fog, and I could hear the faint sounds of dark German techno pumping from her deck. 

I had been patiently awaiting her arrival. Soon, she wouldn’t be a ghostship. Soon, she’s been full of horny queers, sucking and fucking. Grabbing ass. Stroking cock. An open hole for free use in the sex sling.

That is why I was on the playa in Puerto Vallarta. I wasn’t entering my Romanticism era, navel-gazing in nature, contemplating solutions to the problems that plague mankind. I was just waiting to fuck. In fact, that’s why VACAYA invited me to join them on this trip. They wanted me to experience the “Red Light District” for myself. 

Now, to get to the double-decker catamaran, aka the Red Light District, aka the RLD, you needed to take a tender boat (i.e., a smaller motorized vessel that takes you to the larger ship). 

So, with my leather boots in my hand, I headed into the water and boarded the tender. I sat next to two men wearing matching crop tops that said “SLUT” in pink rhinestones. I am with my people, I thought as I watched the hotel fade into the distance. After four minutes, we had arrived. 

The tender pulled up flush to the ghostship, momentarily docking beside it. A man reached out for me; I grabbed his hand, and he pulled me onto the catamaran. I checked my clothing at the counter, letting my twig and berries hang free. I did, however, throw on my leather boots. I wanted to be Daddy for the evening. 

I was there on the earlier side, a little after 10 pm, right as the RLD opened, but there were already boys. It rained for hours beforehand, so the ghostship was rocky, and I didn’t yet have my sea legs. 

FYI, this isn’t and will not be an issue with other VACAYA destinations. On their massive cruises, they have a large room converted into the RLD. (The cruise ship is so big you don’t feel it rocking.) And their 2024 Mexico takeover is at another hotel, which will allow the RLD to take place on the actual premises. But I kinda liked the rockiness. I liked that you had to take a tender to get to the fuck ship. It made the RLD an entire experience.

Still, the rockiness was frightening at first. The last thing I wanted to do was slip and break a bone on my first night in Mexico. But fear is just a hop, skip, and jump away from arousal. So when I saw a man on the second floor with his stomach flat on a pommel horse getting plowed from behind, I thought, All right, I can do this. 

It was a funny image, seeing this man on the ship's bow, getting slammed in doggy style. The only other couple I’d ever seen intimate on the bow of a vessel was Jack and Rose—and their intimate moment was slightly different. 

I entered the “room” with the sling. Three men were sitting next to each other, stroking each other off. I walked up to the three men sitting and waggled my dick near their faces like bait, seeing who would bite suck. 

Man 1 grabbed my cock and pulled me closer to him. I held onto two (actual) poles above me to stabilize myself as the ship rocked. Please don’t bite my dick, please don’t bite my dick, please don’t bite my dick, I thought. Not only was he not biting my dick, but the ship’s rocking added more motion to his BJ—a little back and forth that you usually don’t get. The second man grabbed my testicles, and the moment M1 took a breath, M2 swirled his tongue around my head. Apparently, I was community dick for all to share. M3 just grabbed my hand and pulled me away. I turned to see he was wearing a black thong that his tanned, smooth ass was bursting out of. He was on my tender boat over, one of the boys wearing the SLUT shirt. 

He pulled me to another bench, away from the scavengers, to have a moment to me all alone. He turned around, grabbed the pole in front of him with one hand, and pulled his thong to the side with the other. His husband, who wore the matching crop, lubed up my cock, and M3, with his fat ass, sat on my dick. I watched as his booty bounced. I grabbed his hips and held him against me, letting the rocking of the boat do the fucking. I didn’t even need to thrust. 

But when he said, “Fuck me harder,” I gripped the bench with both my hands, arched my back, clenched my cheeks, and thrusted with the power of almighty Zeus. “Fuck yes,” he screamed as the waves crashed against the boat.

Eventually, he slipped out, and his husband took his position. His husband’s ass was the exact opposite—hairy and light-skinned. I loved being able to fuck both of them. I felt I was getting close to busting, but I couldn’t yet, because— for the love of God—I took a boat to get to this orgy. I didn’t want my night to end. I quickly told him to hop off. 

“I’m going to grab some water,” I said, heading downstairs to the bar. 

I spotted a twunk with the same body as Mark Wahlberg in his 1992 Calvin’s ad. Only, being gay, this twunk did more squats, so his booty was far meatier. His eyes were big and green, and his blond pornstash matched the short hair on his head. Was it love at first sight? No, but I knew I’d be cumming in him that evening. 

I approached with my dick still hard from fucking upstairs. 

“Well, hello there,” he said, not looking at my face.

“Hi, handsome,” I replied. I watched as his eyes wandered upwards. He noticed my mug wasn’t half bad either. We held eye contact for three long seconds—the universal gay code for being DTF. 

“Do you want to fuck?” I asked. 

“Yeah, but where?”

“Right here,” I said. “Lie down on the bench and prop your ass up in the air.” He lay on the bench, his chest flat against the surface. His arms and legs were draped on each side. I straddled the bench behind him and spat directly onto his hole before gently massaging his rim. 

“Oh, shit,” he said. 

I slipped a finger in. That twunk was tight. I must have been his first fuck of the evening. “Anyone have lube and poppers?” I shouted into the void. Like apparitions, three (wise) men appeared holding various travel-sized bottles of lube and Rush. (You gotta love the gays. They want to help other boys fuck just as much as they want to fuck themselves.)

I rubbed some lube onto my hard cock and directly onto his hole while a hirsute angel fed him poppers. I spread his muscular yet supple cheeks to the side and stared at his hole, which miraculously had the same porcelain color as the rest of his skin. I slid my dick inside. 

“Ow,” he said, and I pulled out. I paused, my dick gently kissing his hole. 

“Should I try again?” I asked. He was fed another hit of poppers. I saw him nod and inched my head inside him. “Ooohh,” he said. I just held my dick there. “I’m going to thrust a little deeper, okay baby?”

“Yes, I can take it,” he replied. Half of my dick disappeared inside his hole, and I paused. “Almost there, baby. Ready for all of it.” He took a deep breath. 

“Ready,” he said, and I gave him all of me. My entire length lost inside his insides. “That’s a good boy,” I said. 

I then pulled out and thrusted back in. “I’m going to loosen you up,” I said.

“Yes, Daddy,” he replied. A switch flipped in my brain, and suddenly, I was the Terminator—the Bussy Destroyer, the Asshole Annhilater. His ass was just so smooth, so breedable. I grabbed his hips and propelled my cock into his hole while he shouted out in pleasure. An audience started to form, and onlookers began to fuck nearby. I saw a man kneeling, blowing a cub in a leather harness. I saw an otter holding onto the railing. A bear was eating his ass while jerking him off from behind. 

I spanked my twunk’s ass cheek, leaving a nice red handprint that looked like a turkey. I squeezed his other cheek and sped up my thrusts. 

“Ready to get filled?” 

“Breed me,” he shouted. My cum flew out of me, so much I nearly fainted. Yes, I just had my vasectomy, but I was still sure I got him pregnant. I had that much build-up just waiting to be released. 

I collapsed onto him and watched the debauchery all around me—sexual expression from people of all ages, races, shapes, and sizes. We breathed life into the ghostship, and the outcome was unadulterated pleasure.