"New Orleans is a marvelous environment for coincidences". That is a line from the movie "The Big Easy". I am not superstitious by nature but I soon became aware of a series of coincidences that occurred during my travel to New Orleans. My house number and my flight number were the same and my hotel room number and the number painted on the cab that took me to French Quarter were the same. I was wondering what fate had in store for me in the Pelican State.

I don't like large crowds or being with people who drink too much, so what was I doing in New Orleans during Mardi Gras? An adventure quest was part of it but the real reason was to be with a large number of gay men. I knew New Orleans was suppose to be gay friendly. If I found some romance there I would not mind that a bit. After I arrived in the "Big Easy" and got settled in at my hotel, I headed for Bourbon Street.

I was what you would call a loner for my first 25 years. I never had a boyfriend and the few times I had sex with a guy was limited to cuddling and jacking off. I came to Louisiana to break out of my old ways and to find someone special. Bourbon Street is not particularly romantic. It is bawdy, loud, and at times wild during Mardi Gras. I loved it for its novelty. I traversed the length of Bourbon Street to uncover its secrets. Most of the buildings are old and weathered. There are bars and restaurants of every type. There are sex shops and strip joints too. New Orleans is a tolerant city. I decided to join the merriment on my quest for beads and guys.

The only traffic on Bourbon street was hundreds of people on foot. Most were fortified with several drinks under their belts and most were carrying reenforcements. Alcohol was everywhere. Cocktails were even being sold off the backs of ice cream trucks. Hurricanes, hand grenades, shots, and beer flowed freely. The aim was having a good time and acquiring beads. My aim was to check out the male population. I traveled with the crowd until I arrived at a intersection of two gay bars. The bars were across the street from each other and both featured drinks, dancing, and male stripers. I found my home away from home in New Orleans. I figured the largest convergence of adult gay men would gather at this point during Mardi Gras. I was right.

I leaned against the side of one of the gay bars and watched the human parade pass before me. Four grown men clad only in diapers and carrying large containers of their favorite beverage were the first catch my attention. They were unashamed and marched happily down the street. I saw New York's famous "Naked Cowboy" pose for pictures. The cowboy wore a ten gallon hat, cared a guitar and was clad only in boots and white briefs. The balconies's of both bars were full of dancers and customers throwing beads down to the crowd below. The bead throwers were very selective in dispensing their prizes and searched the sea of men for that one cute guy or one that was willing to drop his pants and display his genitals. I spent hours watching and then I saw him. He was with three buddies. They looked like college students out cruising and looking for a good time. He was the most handsome of the group. He had a heart warming smile, blonde hair, green eyes, and he filled out his jeans both in the front and back. He lifted his t-shirt to display his beautiful chest. It was hard, smooth, and tan. His large brown nipples set off his washboard stomach. The moment he lifted his shirt, he and his group were bombarded with beads. Next he dropped his jeans to his ankles and a second barrage of beads came raining down on him. He was not wearing underpants. His cock and balls looked pretty large from where I was standing. I lusted for him. He struggled to get his pants pulled up then continued to walk down the street. I figured that would be the last I would ever see him but he would make great jack off material late at night when I was alone and fantasized on what might have been.

I walked into one of the gay bars, ordered a drink, and watched a half dozen handsome dancers. One was wearing a small orange thong, another a pair of jeans, and the guy I was most interested had on only a pair of tight fitting white briefs. A customer was fondling the striper's package contained in his Jockey shorts. All the doors of the bar were open so all this was in full view of the passersby on the street. The only things not on view were their cock and balls but the skimpy costumes left little to the imagination. For a dollar bill, one could reach in and cop a feel.

I soon established a routine. I would spend an hour stripper watching in one bar, go outside and watch the men walk by for an hour, and then spent an hour in the gay bar across street watching their strippers. Every few hours a group of four or five religious Mardi Gras protesters would stop in the middle of the street between the two gay bars. One carried a life sized cross, some held picket signs and one addressed the crowd with a portable PA system. "Don't serve the King of beers serve the King of Kings", the leader of the group told the crowd. I was surprised how polite and patient the crowd was with the protesters. They let them say what they wanted to say without interpreting them. Even when the leader asked the people perched on the balconies what would happen to their souls if the balconies would suddenly come tumbling to the ground. I have to admit I had a mischievous thought. If the balconies came down, then the gay men on them would be tops and the protesters would be bottoms. When the religious speeches were over, all the gay men applauded, cheered, and threw confetti.

As day turned into night the crowd grew. Both gay bars were full of guys wanting to have fun and perhaps hook up. One of the shirtless bartenders wore beads that were make up of little cocks that lite up. I was about to head back to my hotel when a young man came up to me and said "Hello, handsome." It was him. It was the guy that I lusted for, who had dropped his pants for the beads earlier. Before I could say or do anything, this heavenly body planted a full kiss on my lips and held me in a wonderful hug. It was obvious that he had a little too much to drink but he was horny as hell. He next put his hand inside my jeans and fondled me. When he got done, he grabbed my ass. He asked where I was staying and if he could spend the night with me. Before we left to find a cab, he had a couple more drinks and ordered the bartender to make him a "To go cup."

When we left the bar, he was not able to walk without my assistance. He held on to me as we walked the three blocks away from Bourbon street to find a cab. When I got him in the cab, he passed out. He looked so peaceful but I was worried about how I was going to get him up to my room. It took the cab driver, bellman, and me to get him into the elevator and safely in my room. I pointed him toward the bed. He fell backwards on the mattress and passed out. He was all mine, but at the same time he was useless. Being the gentleman I am, I decided I would not take advantage of the poor guy. I did want him to be comfortable so I removed his boots and socks. He had small feet. I took off his pants with some difficulty and saw that even at rest, he had a very big dick. It took several minutes to untangle all the beads around his neck and remove them. There were beads marks around his neck. I got his t-shirt off and then I looked at the sleeping body. It was beautiful. I wondered if he would be as happy to see me the next morning as he was in the bar.

As the sun poured into the hotel room the next morning, I saw that my nude bed mate had not moved. I picked up a single strand of beads and put it around his neck.. I placed another strand around his dick and balls. Then I thought of a song by Forrest Wright. I sang it in my head.

Baubles bangles hear how they ring ching-a-lingle

Baubles bangles bright shiny heads sparkles spangles

My heart will sing sing-a-linge

Wearing baubles bangles and beads

I glitter and gleam so make somebody dream

So that some day he may buy me

A ring a-ling a-ling a-ling a-ling

A-ling a-ling a-ling a-lingle

I've heard that's where it leads

Wearing baubles bangles and beads

He awoke, looked at me, and said, " Thank you, handsome, for taking care of me". He reached over planted a soft kiss on my cheek and said, "Boy am I horny. You want to fuck me?" "I would love to but first you might want to take a piss and then we can cuddle for a while." I was amazed that he showed no signs of a hangover. As he walked into the bathroom, I enjoyed checking out his bubble butt. Then a moment of panic set in. I had never fucked a guy before. Sure I have jacked off and cuddled but I had never had my dick in someone's ass. I had the necessary equipment. I had the hardon, the condom, the lube, and I was ready, willing and able. My dream man got back into bed. "Tell me one thing", I asked. "What is your first name?" "My name is Matthew but most people just call me Matt. What's yours?" Well you're not going to believe this, but my name is Matthew also," I answered. "No shit? Two big dicked Matts in bed together," he laughed.

Matt started out his love making with a long passionate kiss on my lips. He continued to plant small kisses all over my chest, stomach, and down to my cock. He kissed my cock head and them enveloped my manhood with his lips. He did everything he could to bring me pleasure. He sucked, licked, and stroked my cock while fondling my balls. He had control of my body and I loved it. My penis had never been so hard, long, and thick before. I could feel a new sensation deep inside by body. My dick was dripping with his salvia as he slipped a condom on my swollen member. He laid on his back and put his legs in the air. "I want you now Matt" he said.

This was new to me, but I knew what to do. I don't think he had much anal intercourse before because he was very tense and very tight. I tried to be very gentle. He relaxed and I went where this man had never gone before. He moaned and then I moaned. It was so personal and we became one. I did not fuck him in my hotel room in New Orleans, we made love. I hate the word fuck; it sounds like something you do to someone you dislike. What Matt and I had was more than sex. It was two people wanting to please each other.

After a day of love making, we told each other our life stories. It seems Matt and I took the same plane to New Orleans and he had been seated behind me. We both went to the same college and we lived less that 20 miles apart from each other. I don't know why all this surprised me because as you know: "New Orleans is a marvelous environment for coincidences". We spent the next three days together and when we got on the plane to go, I gave him a ring. My new soul mate was wearing his Baubles Bangles and Beads.

The End.