The hot weather had only recently broken, tempting me into making the first trip to the bathhouse in several weeks. Arriving a bit later than usual, having first enjoyed some organic smoke, it was good to see several other visitors already there.
The quickly finished cold beer added its own note to my growing anticipation. Downstairs, the whirlpool water was cool, and neither man in it seemed to have any interest in playing. Upstairs, I discovered that a new darkroom had been created, while the old one was blocked off for renovation. Such changes have happened before, when the smaller middle floor steamroom had been replaced by a much larger basement one.
The new padded platform was smaller, with a left corner door sized opening to the dead-end corridor that ran parallel to the platform's wall. The space was empty during my very hesitant initial exploration of the extremely dim room, making it easier to get a feel for its dimensions.
Leaving slowly, eyes still not adapted to the blackness, I wandered around upstairs before entering the porn theater area just as another man left. Turning at the end of the wall to look at the benches, I saw a second man, who picked up his towel and went past me, straight into the booth opposite the porn room's entrance.
A booth with a still opened door. Leading me to approach it, then stand at the entrance, only marginally more interested in the porn playing there than in the theater. But it quickly became apparent neither he nor I were interested in porn when there was the chance to have easy sex with a stranger.
He unwrapped his towel and began to touch himself. My right hand drifted down to my towel, allowing the opportunity for fingers to slide underneath the cloth, signalling my own desire - and increasing it. Both growing harder, he moved back on the platform, prompting me to step inside and remove my towel.
Gasping when he touched my cock, standing at the platform's edge, the door was still open as we began to get intimately involved. Privacy means little to me at the baths, where public sex is part of the attraction. And where essentially all the visitors are there to have straightforward sex with other men. That reality can become extremely addictive, as it is a very rare bathhouse visit that does not lead to satisfying man on man encounters. Much like this one was becoming, the bowl I'd smoked and the beer merging perfectly into the sensations flowing into and from my now exposed cock.
Reaching down a bit to fondle his cock with my left hand, after a wonderful interval of mutual jerking off, I moved into the room, laying out my towel behind him, getting the poppers bottle and condoms out of my bag. Stretching out on the towel, we embraced, hands sliding over nipples and cocks and balls, tongues tasting the other's skin.
We began kissing, cocks stiff, getting ever more turned on, unconcerned that anyone walking by could see what we were doing. Leaning against the wall as his tongue found my nipple while he kept stroking my stiff length, a man walked by. Knowing that my raised and spread legs offered a public view of my cock being jacked off by another man, horniness growing to the point of moaning.
The man beyond the door moved away, returned, but he never joined in, leaving after a few moments. Shifting positions, I closed the door, grabbing and then opening a condom. Going down on him, unrolling the condom as he moaned, his hands found my head. And were unable to do anything but rest, fingers spread, the passage of my downward sliding mouth entrancing him completely.
Soon, using all the skill I've acquired over the years of visiting male only saunas and gloryholes, he quickly turned into a total slut. Just as I had in all my recent visits here, too many of them having passed without giving head to a horny stranger. This lack of recent opportunity to suck cock, of having my mouth filled with a man's sexy length, led to a sexy greediness. Stroking myself the entire time, again reminded of how giving head is one of the more surprising turn ons when having sex with another man. Something discovered years - and many cocks - ago.
"Go slower" he panted, "go slower."
"OK" I said, fully sympathetic to such pleading to not cum, but to stretch the pleasure out. Sympathetic is not the same as not taking advantage of him, having my mouth move as slowly as possible from the base of his cock to just over his flared cockhead, before returning just as slowly.
After doing this several times, feeling him shudder and gasp each time my lips reached his cockhead, I asked "Slow enough?," knowing that he'd just been tortured in the most satisfying way imaginable. He was apparently unable to form words, leading me to return to my earlier rhythm, confident that he would not cum too quickly after getting so aroused.
Following some long interval, including a stretch where he deliciously played with my nipple, we shifted positions. My back returned to pressing against the wall, fist sliding over my length, letting him play with a nipple or lightly stroke under my balls and along my ass crack. This remains one of my most passionate weaknesses, being a total slut for nipple play. Especially when in such a turned on state, organic smoke and beer enhancing the experience of male sex in wonderful combination.
