The bathhouse was fairly empty this Wednesday afternoon, a reminder of different rhythms from the past.
Following the familiar routine, today with more space to undress than the case lately. The beer was quenchingly cool, and quickly finished.
Going upstairs, I walked towards the sling room, noticing a couple of men going different ways than my path.
However, something unusual occurred after having reached the end of the new booths, seeing that the room where I photographed my first male group sex was locked again. Turning back, a naked man was walking towards me. Taking a few steps closer, our hands brushed, and we quickly started groping.
This sort of completely open yet fully anonymous male encounter is unusual in my experience, at least in a hallway. Though enjoyable, both of us taking time while getting turned on, things did not quite go anywhere. He seemed interested in an encounter with different rules, as if he expected me to do what he wanted. Which is generally not what makes me likely to go along, to be honest. I'm easily seduced, but am uninterested in being directed.
After we parted, I went to the porn area, which was not very interesting, though one door was closed, indicating at least a couple of naked men enjoying themselves having sex.
Downstairs, I entered the whirlpool with one man already in the water. A second man joined us on the first man's side, but again nothing seemed to happen. And after the jets turned off, there was no question that nobody was playing.
By now, it seemed as if the baths were having one of those flat periods, leading me to think about leaving after maybe another hour if such mild action continued. There comes a point of diminishing returns, even if hope leads a horny cock on.
Entering the steambath, it appeared and remained fairly empty, with one brusque refusal being the only result after a couple of minutes inside. As the air inside was still warming up, it was possible to stay in the humid dimness for a while. Someone entered from the further side, and as he walked by, I moved out of the darkness subtly, brushing his hip as he went by. My hand slid over his ass, then lightly ran down his thigh.
He stopped, reaching out to explore, as we began to enjoy our not exactly coincidental encounter. The steam room is a reliable place for finding fantastic sex with a stranger - or more strangers. This fact likely explains why steambaths have such a long history involving naked men who know what delights can be found there. Most bathhouse visitors have long term experience - once acquainted with the pleasures so easily found in the sauna, it is so easy to just give in and visit regularly.
It did not take long before we were cock to cock, satisfying French tongue kissing accompanying our desires the entire time. I was the one using my desire as our guide, causing us to end up against the wall, humping while kissing him intimately. With a growing strength as my horny cock felt his, aware that he could not only handle me, but would not resist what I was doing to him.
Strength is more a masculine trait, one that both of us enjoyed now. Passive and active are probably better terms than dominant or submissive. This was not about weaker or stronger, but one doing and one letting it be done. Knowing that next time, the roles could be easily reversed, as the pleasure is equally attractive in either role.
Hard and intimately cock to cock, I lifted his arms by the wrists, then turned so he could lick under my arm, which he did wonderfully - on both sides, a rare treat. I soon returned the favor, and we both soon started playing nipple games with the other, licking and squeezing.
He reached his limit in the heat, even if he was basically unable to stop from being used, so he indicated a desire to leave, even if at first it was easily ignored. Men can turn into such sluts at the baths, and it made me hornier to manipulate his desires, keeping him close and turned on as we kept playing.
Nonetheless, my limit was also approaching, and we parted. Followed by my going upstairs to wander around after showering, enjoying a bit of soapy masturbation with no one around. The top floor was also still quite empty, with little interesting on offer.
About to go downstairs after leaving the deserted theater area and its uninteresting porn, I glimpsed someone wearing stockings and a corset near the stairs. This was my second time seeing a cross dresser here, or in a real sense, the first. And the thrill that went through me was incredible, as long held fantasies started to become more real.
That first experience had been an extremely memorable bathhouse encounter, one that has provided a number of orgasms in remembrance - and in anticipation. This person did not look quite the same as the one in memory, and in a sense was overdressed this time in stockings, panties, a bra, and something that was a cross between a corset and a bustier, with garter clips.
Approaching someone that seemed to be waiting for something to occur, in a place where sex is what occurs the most. I reached out to stroke a stocking covered thigh, casually pausing in my stride. This encounter was already promising, leading to a certain enjoyable daring, confident in my ability to satisfy such a partner. Along with already starting to enter an enticing fantasy world, one where anything could be imagined - and done. In its way, this was strangely like the fantasy of picking up a streetwalking slut, to get off together.
We were in pretty much exactly the same area used that first time, though without the whirlpool introduction of that initial encounter. This time, we were much more direct, adding to the swelling intensity when getting lost in another man's skills and desires. Though direct might not be quite correct for how gently we stroked and caressed each other, savoring an opportunity to have extended sex, neither of us needing to be concerned about a new partner's opinion concerning the attractions of cross dressing.
We soon drifted into the cabin, hands all over each other, though I concentrated more on his bra and panties. He was clearly enjoying such attention, particularly after my starting to concentrate on the bulge stretching his smooth satin panties. The amount of clothing he was wearing turned out to be unsuited to continuing to play on the bed, so he took off the bustier.
He also started to take off the bra, making me ask him to leave it on, because it was a turn on - knowing that he could not resist being seduced this way. We were both entering an imagined world, one anchored by how horny each of us was becoming while sharing kinky fantasies.
"Keep it on for now, bras are sexy to see and play with - especially hands going inside."
"Yes, I need to keep my bra on .. not get naked .. Or be taken advantage of .. by a stranger playing with my nipples."
"Sexy girlie nipples that love being touched, don't they, getting hard and horny - like now." Murmuring what a hot slut he was, playing with him in different ways - teasing and talking, fairly certain what he enjoyed, such as the nipple play happening under the bra, or a hand stroking a stocking covered inner thigh. His stroking of my willing length was addictive, adding to the pleasure of my tongue starting to go from his neck down over his bra covered nipples.
Going further, playing with one of his stocking covered feet, my face travelled nearer to his tight red panties. The scent from the panties was fantastic, and confirmed the likelihood that I was meeting that first crossdressing sex partner again, who had had such a beguilingly sexy scent, especially when sniffing his panties. That had been one of the most erotic experiences in my entire life, with circumstances seeming to be coming together in similar fashion now. My mind was simply being melted by the intoxicating smell.
"You smell so fucking sexy" I moaned, taking deep breaths, unable to control my desire. This second time just added to the guess that he never washed the panties he wore for sex. The scent seemed to have many entrancing layers, much like the round knobbed attachment of a married woman's vibrator, discovered decades ago and retaining the scents of many orgasms. The first time I had smelled her toy, it was fantastic - without any doubt that it had not been cleaned recently - but most certainly been used quite recently. The smell of sex can be irresistible, something he seemed pleased to have me enjoy at his crotch.
Our touching and kissing became hypnotic, sinking into the pleasure of willing sex with a stranger, but a stranger that knew how to play so good. With the added element of my own cross dressing fantasies, aware that he was likely to provide an opportunity for me to cross dress too.
A moment that finally arrived after he had removed his bra so I could suck his nipples, taking off his panties to free his hard cock, freed after being played with inside the tight smooth fabric. We were both fairly vocal, in the booth that is probably the must public in terms of hearing what is happening inside it. This just added to the fantasy element, and finally, I could no longer resist asking if he had more stockings to wear.
"I have something you'll like, I know" he said, reaching over to a clear bag, unlike the gym bag remembered from the last time. He took his time putting a stocking on each leg, tantalizingly kissing toes and feet, then sliding his lips along the nylon as it covered my leg. By now, fantasy and reality were impossible to distinguish, dressing up as a total slut after having played with a cross dressing stranger.
Finished getting dressed in thigh high stockings, cock addictively rigid, I finally asked about wearing the bra too - not quite begging, but clearly unable to stop from revealing my own kinky desires. Actually, it was more like moaning out such normally unspoken desires while playing with my cock and his at the same time. We were wonderfully aroused, sharing a certain kink that was becoming a real mutual turn on, feeling him stroke my black nylon covered legs and thighs.
