Bathhouse Heaven

After dropping off a class's graded tests on a Sunday, I arrived at the bathhouse later than normal. The place was full, with more a social than sexual atmosphere, allowing for the fact that the baths are primarily a place for men to have easy sex with other men.

It took a while to get a beer, which was finished off quickly. I went downstairs to the whirlpool, but after a couple of minutes in it, there was no reason to keep sitting. For the first several years, the whirlpool had been a fairly consistent place for hot sex. During the last year, the hot tub has turned cold, so to speak. Now, no interaction was apparent, even after finding several feet to stroke.

The other reason to go was noticing that someone was sitting in the chair where my black bag and towel had been placed. Stepping down, I saw he had moved them to the window frame of the Finnish sauna, understandably, but considering that opportunity makes a thief, a certain sense of possession led me to go upstairs.

Along with my sense of horniness, increasing as the beer started to make its welcome presence felt in a setting where sex with strangers can be readily found. One of the first booths I walked past had a man on his stomach, causing me to pause before checking out the porn booths and theater area. As has become too common recently, only boring porn was playing, which did not really provide an explanation for why this whole section seemed empty.

Going to the other side, after again pausing to check out the bottom wanting to be fucked, sounds of activity seemed to be coming from the maze section. This being an area of the bathhouse which has been reliably uninteresting over the years, with maybe two uninteresting encounters having happened there.

Walking back, encountering a man leaving, both of us pausing for a quick fondle before going on our ways. Having reached the end of the first corridor, I turned left, aware both of several bodies in the entrance and the intriguing sounds of men having sex. Reaching out, right hand finding a nicely half hard cock, prompting me to step closer. The touched man moved back a half step, breaking contact as a hand began sliding over my chest.

The hand from a stranger in front of me soon found my nipple, causing me to move further into the darkness. Another hand went under my towel, running lightly over my sensitive inner thigh, teasing my ball sack. The entrance area was in motion as a man moved through, my hand only one of a couple that reached for his crotch. The hand between my legs remained in place while turning maybe 60° to make room.

The sudden sensation of a stranger's mouth taking me into paradise caused a gasp, overwhelmed by the delightful surprise of getting a blowjob after having just finished a beer. One of the rarer pleasures in my life is to be sucked to hardness, feeling how my cock grows to fill the mouth it is in. Today, that being the mouth of the man who had been kneeling in this section. My own sexual sounds began mixing with those of other men having sex as a stranger introduced himself intimately to an, or likely another, utterly willing cock.

Unwrapping the towel in a growing intoxicating haze, putting it on my left shoulder, it took a fair amount of time to get the brown bottle out of my bag. Left arm raised along the door frame, hand splayed against an edge, my body started to move back and force, helplessly horny. The sensations coming from my cock were spectacularly addictive, the gasped 'oh fuck yes' providing extra proof of just how turned-on my unknown cocksucker was making me, just inside the truly blackened maze space.

As the blow job continued, the hand that had been sliding underneath my balls and along my thighs now reached between them, starting to glide over my ass, creating a delightfully easy temptation to give in to, cock sinking ever deeper into a wetly welcoming mouth. He drew me in a bit more, into a small alcove, reducing the jostling and interruptions of several men moving through. This was paradise, a talented stranger on his knees sucking a now fully rigid length, a perfect combination of the growing buzz from the beer mixing in with the earlier smoked bowl as his hand continued ever more deeply caressing my crack.

It had taken around a quarter hour from parking the motorcycle to being orally serviced by a willing man in the darkness, providing yet further reinforcement of what has become most willing behavior on my part. Originally, I generally insisted on using a condom before getting head, but years of bathhouse visits have removed that hindrance. These days, as many men as wish can suck my naked rod, having willingly developed into a true bathhouse slut.

One unable to resist beginning to face fuck a man who knew just how thoroughly he was taking control, offering orgasm to someone unseen, without words. However, I did not want to cum yet, enjoyable as it would have been to just let go. Not cumming too fast was also the major reason for not yet doing a hit from the magic brown bottle. Bathhouse sexual games can last for hours, without orgasm, men sharing extended pleasure without needing it to end in glorious jets of hot cum.

But there is also a tension between those who practice such restraint, and cum sluts who want to get other men off. A finger had begun to probe my hole, but the touch was too forceful to become enticing, prompting me to reach down and hold his wrist several times before he understood that this unenjoyable. His cocksucking became more insistent in compensation, aware that he was taking me right to the edge of orgasm.

His hand returned to sliding between my cheeks, creating another series of incoherent moans about how good it felt to be sucked off by a man. After stopping my thrusting, his own motions more than made up for it. He took me ever deeper, his arm now between my legs, his splayed hand pressing against the small of my back to keep me in his wetly yielding mouth. His control became more explicit, creating a certain growing unwillingness to give in.

You can seduce me with pleasure, but when physically forced to follow someone's will, resistance is the natural reaction. To put it differently, I love sharing, but dislike when someone only tries to take what they want. Of course, power dynamics are part of sex between men, but as good as my cock felt, that a stranger wanted me to cum is not a good enough reason for it to happen.

Especially in a place where the ongoing sounds of sex remained part of what was going on. Men were moving around, my right hand having found more than one cock to explore while being sucked. At least one man had played with my nipple before moving on, and another man stopped next to me as I jacked him off. My cock had reached a certain plateau, the hand on my back no longer so forceful as his blow job slowed.

Offering the chance to finally open the poppers bottle and take a long hit, feeling my cock grow immense in his mouth before breathing out, saying 'oh fuck, go slow, cock suck slow.' A request he honored to perfection, making my length feel infinite as it went deeper before he reversed direction, his tongue running along my shaft until his lips reached the flared bottom of my cockhead. I could not stop moving my ass as his finger began to touch it more gently than before.

Words kept pouring out, things like 'fuck yes' and 'cocksucker' along with 'sex with men' and 'I love slow.' Like so many men at the baths, he was an expert cocksucker, a fact that my bi friend has asked about, when talking about the experiences of being sucked by several men during a visit, and how fantastically irresistible a stranger giving head can be. A friend who has deep throated me in the past, swallowing all the resulting load, allowing me to have at least a basis for comparison.

One reason is likely practice, I told her, along with the cliche that those of the same sex have a deeper insight about that sex's pleasures. She has possibly had oral sex with 30 women, starting with a woman twice her age, getting off repeatedly while straddling that first lover's face. And probably oral sex with twice as many men, leading to her experience based judgment that the best oral sex comes those most skilled in providing it, without a recognizable distinction between men and women. Which is fair enough, as my sample is much, much more skewed - 5 women, and literally uncounted men, though more than a hundred is likely an underestimate by a large margin.

Another true distinction between men and women, I did add, is that men can provide stronger suction, and that in my experience, all men swallow - and a number try to keep sucking even after that first orgasm. Of the women who gone down on me, only her and my first girlfriend seemed to enjoy cocksucking as much as a typical bathhouse visitor. Admittedly, we've never discussed poppers, which made a life long impression on me since using them with my first girlfriend.

In the baths, many men know exactly what poppers are like, providing an additional level of experience in creating pure lust between horny partners. Soon, my hands found his head, holding it steady as my cock started pumping into his beckoning mouth. An unlubricated finger began pressing too hard, causing me to shift position enough to make it obvious that I was not interested. Followed by a finger starting to slide over my nipple, making me moan "I fucking .. sex with men .. love." Hearing the words, and the broken grammar, made plain that my enveloped cock was in complete control.

Decades of experience have provided the ability needed to not cum during that deliriously delicious interval of pure sexual sensation, to stay on the edge as long as possible. However, this time, the cocksucker had returned his hand to the small of my back, preventing me from withdrawing. His strength provided a sufficient excuse to keep face fucking him, only slowly realizing the fingers caressing my nipple were from another man, still hidden in the dark.

The kneeling man began to fondle my balls, prompting me to put my right hand down to the base of my horny rod, moving it in his mouth, letting my circled thumb and finger ride up to his lips. As his fingers left my sack, I could not stop moaning as he touched the curly hairs underneath it. The sensations of hair being lightly stroked is exquisite, sinking into bliss as he continued to tease me with such pleasure, only slowly starting to concentrate on my hole.

However, his subsequent attempt to force his finger deeper was no less pleasant than the first time, prompting me to firmly grasp his wrist and move his hand away. By this point, making clear that I had no interest in experiencing what he wanted to do. Different people have different tastes, but not everyone at a bathhouse is a fast learner - or even interested in the other person's wishes at all. On the other hand, his cocksucking remained superb, making me decide not to do another hit as the sensations grew ever more seductive.

Another man passed by, prompting me to reach out to find a quite ready cock. After a bit of making him fully rigid, my sliding hand pulled his extended length near mine, offering a new temptation to the man who had brought me so close to cumming. A temptation he hungrily took advantage of, my fingers going to work on the new man's nipples, pinching and teasing them into hardness as the sounds of sucking between us grew louder.

Right hand going down to my still wet length, my tongue slid over the new man's ear. Stroking myself, it was easy to position a sensitive cockhead along the base of his shaft. Soon, I felt a familiar stranger's breath near my cockhead, moaning in contentment as his mouth returned to my rod. Possibly moaning too suggestively or loudly, feeling his hand again flatten against my back. This time, a voice came from the darkness, saying "just cum, fill his mouth, don't stop."

Which was more than just a bit irritating, in truth. Already quite ambivalent about the controlling hand, this led to a growing contrariness, together with the fact that I did not want this visit to be finished so promptly, nice though it was to get stoned, drink a beer, and let a talented stranger go down on me. When the same finger began to press my ass with the same lack of any finesse, it just sealed the decision to remove myself from further temptation. Seduction involving pleasure is enjoyable, but clumsily repeated attempts to get me off are unappreciated during a bathhouse visit.

Especially since in this case, 'removal' meant maybe a minute interval, involving a distance of maybe ten yards to the darkroom. No one was at the gloryholes, but my dark adapted eyes were able to make out a spreadeagled figure, face down in the center of the platform. I slid onto the platform between him and the gloryhole wall, poppers and condoms already out.

It took only a few seconds for my first tentative touch to grow into a mutually satisfying exploration of each other's naked flesh. I reached between his spread legs, hand searching for his cock. Encountering his sack first, I indulged in some teasing first, his hand continuing to move closer to my groin. Part of the thrill of the baths is getting hard with a stranger, connecting at a primal level.

As we did. His hand touched my waiting cock, lifting his hips to let me reach underneath his body, discovering a thick and more than half hard cock. A truly thick cock, as it turned out, after both of us grew fully hard. Among men possessing a certain persuasion, or at least experience, such games are always welcome. A group including basically all repeat visitors to a bathhouse, obviously. Like a man laying face down in the dark, clearly desiring to be fucked by any available cock, who today had encountered another repeat visitor interested in having sex with a stranger.

If not quite interested in fucking a man in the darkroom right now. There was no question we had already entered that mutually exciting state so easily shared among men. An enticing state that is a major reason for why bathhouses can be found in many places and times - a male only space where sex is virtually ensured. Often with a freedom and number of partners that people without experience of such pleasures cannot easily grasp.

As a bi male, I somewhat regret that woman are generally not welcome in the baths, though it is understandable enough. The baths represent a step beyond swinging, which is something many women find unattractive already. Even my bi friend, whose active fantasies include sucking multiple men off at a glory hole or being gang raped by six men, has a difficult time understanding the attraction of being sucked by 10 strangers over several hours, often in total darkness.

The complete lack of talking, the sheer bliss of feeling a stranger take your cock from the mouth of another man, kissing and stroking and licking whatever is available, existing in a haze of sexual satisfaction seems hard to understand for women, much less its total attraction to men, particularly those who have experienced it.

Now, having fallen into each other's intimate embrace, I felt his mouth surround my cock. I continued to play with him, until shifting myself 180°, letting my slick cock touch his. After a nice interval of jacking two cocks together, I change position, after first having found the little brown bottle. Now at right angles to him, right knee beside his hip, left leg stretched out, I took a hit. Closing the bottle, my hands went down to both cocks, bringing them together.

Being on top of a turned on man is always an added turn on - there is something to be said for the idea that top or bottom provides different thrills, ones which flow through sex. I was in total charge, using his cock to pleasure mine, desire filling me.

After a deliciously intense period, I needed to shift position again. Not having a schedule, it was easy to lay back and let him do as he wished. Feeling him kiss all over, licking my armpit or sucking a nipple while I played with myself, returning the favors whenever it was possible to think or move. Which was not often, as the sensual pleasure stretched on and on, with an added sexual layer due to a hard cock being involved, making the distinction less clear, but still real.

Finally, after numerous hits and peaks and extended periods of animal contentment, he left. I was completely worn out, in a most satisfying way. Leaving, I thought that it had easily been a half hour since entering the darkroom. Which made the discovery that it had been an hour and a half shocking. Time spent in paradise moves at a different rate, a reality I've begun learning.