Having a few days available this fall, and considering how easy it is to make online plans to visit a major city in another country, I took another step in my growing experience of bathhouses, recreating the 70s vibe to a fun extent, with weed, music, and poppers.
Though it did take a while to find the shop with a large selection of modern popper formulations. It was easy to buy several varieties of poppers, talking a bit about the sauna I planned to visit with the man behind the counter, who was quite helpful. After having the bottles bagged, the person that rang it up threw in a few condoms and a map into the black bag.
Saying goodbye, I went to the recommended nearby coffeeshop to enjoy a nice weed/hash blended joint, then took the metro to discover that the tram system was disrupted on the other side of the river due to construction. The bus replacement worked out with the help of a nicely tolerant woman, dealing with an obvious foreigner using an appropriate amount of amused good will.
Finding the actual sauna did take a bit of time, the area being a bit confusing, especially in my current state, including my half hard cock rubbing along my jeans, knowing that soon I would be in a male only sauna.
Finally discovering the address, I had to deal with the buzzer arrangement which seems to be universal at such places, though it has never been a barrier. The door unlocked, and after going inside, my glasses fogged instantly. Making it a bit difficult to see the bar area in front and to the right of me, a lounging area to my left, and the entrance to the locker area between the two. I took my glasses off while stepping up to the counter, noticing that towels were available behind the bar, as a older man greeted me, asking if I had ever been here.
'Not here, no' I answered, 'but several places like this one, though.' This didn't stop him from going through his accustomed introduction. Taking the key, I went to lockers, undressed, then returned to the bar.
A couple of other towel clad men were sitting there, chatting with each other as I drank my beer. The feeling was small scale, much like that of a bathhouse visited last spring in a much smaller town a good hour ride away. A realization that surprised me, this being the second largest city of the land. And yet, here was a bathhouse with an enjoyable local feel, as if men from other countries rarely visited.
Finishing the smallish glass of beer, I went towards the sauna area, a raised whirlpool to the right being the first thing seen after passing through the lockers. Showering, then entering the quite warm water, 3 men already relaxing in it. The nearest to me, and the youngest, maybe 25 if that, demonstrated how to turn the jets on. pressing a button behind him. As the bubbles rose, obscuring everything under the water, I felt him stroke me along my upper thigh. Returning the courtesy, we made each other hard, the other two men commenting about how my new partner's complaints concerning a lack of action were clearly no longer true.
The conversation was not really understandable, though part of that was my increasing focus on my hard cock. He had already pushed the button several times, and we had found a solid rhythm, our cocks close to cumming without any concern of actually orgasming. A basic bathhouse skill, and one that tends to be difficult for younger beginners to master, I'm sure.
The water was quite warm, and after the button being pressed numerous times, I had to leave. Further back, to the left, was a quite decently sized cold pool, which he jumped into, making waves splash onto the floor. I lowered myself in slowly, trying to deal with the coolness of the still sloshing water, much more hesitant. He turned towards me, a grin on his face. We were both half hard, and soon began rubbing cocks while kissing. Eventually, on the other side of the scale, the water simply became too cold for me to handle, even as our erect cocks pressed together perfectly. He made it difficult to leave, rubbing my cock as I used to the ladder to exit. Very slowly, unable to resist pausing as his hand gripped me, each step requiring a certain act of will.
Finally out of the water, I quickly showered in the area opposite of the pool, returning to the bar to have another beer, chatting a bit about bathhouses, one man remaking that the city's other gay sauna was more crowded, and 'intrusive.'
The second level was reached via a surprisingly grand staircase, which swept onto a large wall screen to the right, and 4 sofas to the left, obviously the porn area, though much of the space was empty, even with the furniture, that included side tables, and low tables in front of the sofas.
The section behind the staircase included some fairly small, not exactly private, booths in a central corridor, which opened onto a sling. One that was surprisingly uncomfortable and poorly made, the extended bolt ends rough and uncovered as I explored its disappointing potential in the empty space.
A disappointment easily balanced by the public gloryhole area, two panels in the darkness, one with two holes, the other 3. This made up for the disappointing sling - here were the first public gloryholes I had ever encountered, resembling ones seen in a picture from the late 70s in SF, with a man holding on to the holes to each side as he pressed his cock against the wall as deeply as possible, ass tight, obviously lost in pure male pleasure as a stranger got him off.
