Summer’s last gasp was an eye popping one at Cherry Grove’s Belvedere Guest House–that sumptuous white palace of refinement and strewn condoms–where I cohosted Daniel Nardicio‘s Spartacus bash on Saturday.
The pool area and private deck were filled with guys upon guys (along with Nardicio and DJ Johnny Dynell) in Spartacus armor and/or skivvies, the occasional rain bursts only making their exposed sinews that much more glistening.
And some of them were acting even lustier than real Roman slaves.
At one point, I was innocently sitting in the pool shed and turned to my left and noticed three guys in some kind of revolving diorama of physical activity.
One would do something naughty to the other two, then they’d take turns, as if presenting an instructional workshop on the lost art of human interaction.
It was dir-tay!
At the end of the deck, right on the water, there was a much larger cluster of nude and semi-nude men, and after some long observing, I deduced that they surely were playing Twister!
Eventually, the group started peeling off like an onion, one hot guy after another removing himself and taking off for the pool, which left the twinkly man on the bottom–a bald little vixen–grinning like he’d just had an early Christmas.
At the peak of the party, Nardicio conducted the Mr. Nude Belvedere contest between three randy contestants, two of which were boyfriends, but hardly afraid to compare schlongs.
After a quick introduction, the three guys were asked to fluff themselves in a corner hallway and come back onstage to flaunt their wares.
Well, I happened to be two inches away–wait, make that nine inches away–from where they ended up doing so, and let me tell you their idea of fluffing involved the three of them doing the same kind of revolving diorama of physical activity I’d seen before!
They were deeply involved!
A sleek and beautiful copyeditor named Zach won, and he could edit my galleys any time.