Arriving at the local baths just after 3pm on a Friday, the lack of visitors was surprising. Possibly due to the fact that the following Monday was a holiday, or possibly due to how summer had recently arrived.
Downstairs, one man was in the whirlpool, prompting me to shower before joining him. After sitting close, my foot promptly sliding over his under the pretense of settling in. Letting my sole rise, toes running over his inner thighs before reaching up against his still rod. I moved closer, his hand reaching between my thighs, making me sigh as he began to play with my balls.
Soon, we were intimately involved, touching each other's cocks and nipples, rapidly falling into a rising spiral of horniness, as happens so easily at the baths. Experienced visitors have a breadth of knowledge about getting off with other men that no woman can easily match.
Becoming more entwined, he began to wrap me in his arms, then started kissing. Or trying to, as I had no interest in such a blunt approach. A lack that seemingly made no impression on him, as he used his arm to keep my face pressed against his. I resisted such a graceless approach, until he seemed to understand that his will was not dominant, causing him to leave. Such boorish attempts have been mercifully rare, seeing as how they don't arouse me, but everyone has different tastes.
Going upstairs, I entered an open cabin at the end of a row of 3 booths, with a couple having sex in the middle one, knowing that just be able to hear men have sex would be erotic at a voyeuristic level which a bathhouse is perfectly suited in accommodating.
With the end of the corridor temporarily blocked for interior work, the booths were somewhat less trafficked than usual. Soon though, a man walked back and forth, and seeing my stroking, did not wander far before getting a better look, his hand rubbing over the front of his towel. After extended eye contact, he came in finally. It became mild fun, each of us playing with the other's erection. We played with each other's nipples, him standing at the end of the platform, door still open, neither of us apparently concerned about observers or additional participants.
At some point, he stepped completely into the room, closing the door behind him, perfectly positioned for me to begin to lick his nipple. His response was unsurprising, so I began to run my tongue down his front as I got condoms out of my bag, ready to go down on his hard cock.
His response to that action was very surprising, however - "Where did you get them?"
Replying "I brought them," he turned to open the door and left, quite abruptly. I still have no absolutely no idea why he left, still hard - the condoms and lube packages available for free at the counter are definitely no better than what was at hand. Though a number of potential partners here have rejected using condoms categorically, this was something considerably stranger. Sex with or without a condom is an understandable choice - summarily rejecting getting a blow job with someone that brought their own condoms to use is simply incomprehensible.
For the next half hour, walking around, essentially nothing happening beyond the reality of a couple of closed doors where strangers were undoubtedly getting off. Only one person was downstairs, in the dry sauna. The bathhouse was truly empty in a way I've only rarely experienced over the years, on extremely hot and sunny days, or later on a week day evening.
Sometime after 4pm, having wandered through the various empty spaces, I went back for a second time to the video room. The porn appeared uninteresting, offering no reason to enter the space. Nonetheless, it made sense to at least check if anything was happening. Slowly reaching the end of the wall, eyes wandering after stopping and turning towards the broad rows.
It took a bit of time for my eyes to adapt, though the presence of at least one man was clear from the sandals in front of the draped towel at the bottom of the first row. Allowing my attention to focus upwards, a scene of group sex slowly resolved itself. The man on the lowest bench level was playing with the cock of the man at the middle, who was sucking the cock of the reclining man at the top level.
The combination provided enough free space for me to move to the far side of the middle row, in comfortable visual range of the action. Paying attention to the blow job, I noticed a familiar brown bottle being used by the cock sucker. He took several deep hits before his mouth covered a naked wetly glistening rod, handing the bottle to the man beneath him, whose own hand was between his thighs.
Quickly shifting up to the top row, spreading the towel, taking out my own little brown bottle, seeing how the man on the lowest level had started to blow the cock sucker's hard dick. Settling next to the man who hadn't done a hit, I opened the poppers under his nose, letting him do several hits before doing a deep one myself. Closing the bottle, beginning to jack off, I fondled his nipple, joining a group of poppered sluts in public sex.
The scene grew entrancing, particularly after breathing out. Catching the eye of the middle cock sucker, displaying my hard length, I made the decision to remain more or less a jerking off observer. One who planned to indulge in poppers the entire time, already finding watching such animal group sex growing increasingly addictive. Still a participant in gay group sex, but wanting to enjoy being a close up voyeur of several hard cocks, echoing the sort of games I used to play with a high school friend - and sometimes, with another friend of his.
Those masturbation sessions, sometimes inside, sometimes outdoors, were my very first introduction to having group sex. We would read and look at the late 70s Penthouses, Playboys, Clubs, Gallery until our cocks swelled, opening our pants, getting even hornier after touching ourselves, pulling down our pants, giving in to the seductive temptation of letting others see you turned on, knowing that the same was happening with them. Watching each other cum, looking at cocks and faces, unable to stop.
Much like what was happening here, in a much more adult fashion, without long ago restraints about no physical contact. Virgins tend to be shy, after all. Bathhouse sluts aren't shy, one of the more appealing aspects of visiting a male only sauna. Especially sluts using poppers, something I never experimented with my friend, only reading about 'locker room scent' in a Playboy column at the back of one of those magazines, near the time of getting sexually involved with my first girlfriend, around high school graduation (yes, near enough cliche but true - my first blow job was at the end of my high school prom, at her parent's house).
Watching naked men sucking each other was erotic in a way that I've grown to love. An eroticism that particularly grew after exchanging bottles, as he handed his bottle up to the man he was sucking, and I handed my bottle down to him. When the man next to me did a hit, I licked his nipple before starting to use my teeth, hearing the man below open my bottle and do his own hits. A bottle appeared under my nose, letting me inhale the magical scent a couple of times.
Inhibition disappeared as my left hand went down to the sucked man's cock, feeling the wetness of soft lips surrounding a stiff shaft, covered in taut, soft skin. It returned when he bent down, bringing his face closer to my dick, causing me to shift its position a bit. A change rewarded by the middle man's hand sliding over my inner thigh, as the lowest man moved himself in front of me.
He began to lick my foot, playing with himself, letting me indulge in male group sex without crossing any personally set boundaries. Looking at the other horny cocks, jacking off, my balls being played with, the liquid pleasure of my toes being sucked, a finger rubbing over a nipple, poppers flowing through all of our bodies, dominating willing minds through its extravagantly unleashed sexual energy.
I've been doing poppers with partners for more than three decades, starting with my first girlfriend. Who used to turn into a grinding fuck animal when we shared them face to face - and even more of an animal when being fucked on her hands and knees. I've done them in group settings at a couple of bathhouses over the last few years, but this was the first time being involved so straightforwardly with 3 other men, all of us openly using rush at the same time.
The bottles were passed around again, though I didn't indulge, being far too horny to dare another hit, wanting to see just how slutty they became under that special aroma's power. Creating an addictive transformation, a transformation that really turns me on to see occur. Intently observing just how completely a partner's cock or pussy rides that wave of distilled lust, pushing them deeper into primal sensations, seeing the transformation in how their expressions fully reflect their beautifully mindless state.
The cock sucker pressed a bottle into my left hand, his own hand rising on my shaft, freeing me to share the rush. First, I gave the sucked man the chance to do another hit, then held the bottle under the nose of the man rubbing my foot, before doing one myself, fairly confident that orgasm was no longer imminent.
The lowest man moved away, starting to go down on the cock sucker again, who moaned around the dick filling his mouth. Moans echoed by the man being sucked, his hand roughly jerking my cock. I was playing with the nipples of the pair next to me, looking down at both blow jobs, so much hotter than porn, part of a turned on group of strangers having fantastic anonymous sex in a dim room with gay porn playing.
