Different visits have different rhythms and different interactions, and this visit seemed to be straddling an unusual line.
Sometimes, there is a strange aloofness in the air, with nothing much sparking even as the baths get increasingly crowded. Generally, avoiding getting caught in such periods is avoidable, but it does happen.
The start of the visit had been promising enough, though possibly also providing a foretaste of much that followed.
Entering the porn area, a man was jacking off along the top row on the opposite wall. Going up to the same level, I spread my towel and dealt with condoms and poppers. The porn was not that interesting, but watching a man stroke his turned on cock were the way that I achieved my first orgasms shared with another person, and being able to enjoy the experience again while looking and touching a variety of cocks at the bathhouse remains a pleasant surprise.
Enjoyable though it was, the lack of returned contact most the time was notable. No question we were watching each other, and that our hands were moving at a rate that blurred vision, but after a while of pleasuring him without any contact in response, I left. Over the decades following those first shared orgasms, my standards have changed. Touching needs to be mutual at some point, at a minimum.
Yet there are times at the bathhouse where other men are simply not interested or engaged, even when hard. After that initial porn room experience, I spread out in the darkroom. A man entered and soon, my hand had found his stiffening cock. He got hard when being stroked, yet with zero response. This is always a bit bizarre to me, as playing together is always so satisfying, yet it does happen that your partner might as well not be there.
I let him enjoy himself for a good while, until it was obvious that he was completely self-absorbed.
The next period was spent wandering, including bit more time in the darkroom, enjoying a fleeting few minutes of gloryhole fun. Getting another man hard turned into a repeat of the first experience, something I decided to consider amusedly, recognizing how sometimes sequences just turn against you.
My first visit downstairs to the whirlpool and steambath became equally frustrating, in essence. As was returning upstairs and not really making any contact, though flickers of pleasure certainly tempted me to remain. It has been a long time since having a visit where those flickers were the only thing that happened, even after staying an hour longer than planned.
Finally deciding today to go back to the steamroom, and leave if nothing happened. The cubbyholes held a couple of towels, as the strange rhythms of the bathhouse continued to swirl - today was a full day, but the actual visitors were hard to find.
Entering the steambath with a pair of condoms and poppers, the heat was warmly pleasant, not excessive. In part because in the rest of the bathhouse, the heating had not kept up with the changing season. Here, the temperature was ideal, steamy but not hot. A couple of men were in the somewhat better lit front area, but in general, the back is the area that fun is found reliably.
Unsurprisingly, it happened that a stranger temptingly reached out for my cock when passing the end of the curved front entrance corridor, now at least somewhat in shadow. The touch was entrancing, making me pause and moan, followed by reaching out to find his horny cock, starting to jack it off as he did the same to me, both of us easily getting hard.