Rich had called me earlier in the week. "I'm on my way down to Atlanta. Got a couple things planned. Want to join me one night for a scouting trip?"
He called me every time he came down south. I'd known Rich for better than nearly twenty years. I'd been messing around with my landlord at the time. He invited me to a house party one night. I didn't know anyone there except for him, so I was sitting on the patio with a beer when this guy came over and sat down next to me.
Rich and I talked for about two hours. We made a date for the following weekend to hang out.
Since then we've been friends. Not the closest mind you, just good friends.
Rich is part owner of a bathhouse back where I was living. It wasn't his 'passion' or anything, but he always enjoyed it. Every time he went anywhere, he'd visit a spa to see if there was anything he could incorporate into his back home.
I'd been to several with him. I'd seen him nude dozens of times. Never did anything with him. Our friendship, as peripherally filthy as it got on occasion, was platonic.
I put my car in the parking garage attached to the hotel and made my way up to his room. I knocked on the door and watched as it swung open. I didn't know the guy who opened the door, a kid in his early...early 20's. "Oh hey! You're Joe, right? Rich said to wait here for you. We're supposed to meet him down at the bar."
The kid was whip-thin, tall, with long brown hair at the top of his head, a razor fade on the sides and back with eyes that looked artificially light. He had a constant wry smile, like he was up to something. He shrugged a hoodie over a retro 'Guess' t-shirt and we made our way to the lobby.
Rich was at the bar in a pair of loose-fitting linen pants and an equally as loose button down shirt. His head was smooth as a bowling ball, a salt-and-pepper mustache and goatee on his chin. His brown eyes were behind gold-rimmed round glasses that looked a hair too small for his head.
His dad-bod figure had gotten more dad-bodish. He had a bit of a belly, but he was still strong. That strong from working every day of your life.
"Look who it is." He said, putting down some mixed drink or another, "You piece o'shit. You missed my birthday." He put on a pout, "I was...all alone."
The younger guy, Duane, countered, "You had a birthday party at the Pyramid club. There were over a hundred people there."
He waved him away, "Semantics. Our uber will be here in five." Not even enough time to get a drink.
We pulled up and were dropped off near the entry. Rich, since he was the host, paid for all three of us. The guy working the entry gave him a grin that was in no way subtle.
Rich rented two rooms adjacent and a locker. Duane would take the locker, but actually join Rich in his room. Their relationship seemed weird to me. There was friendship, but nothing that looked like affection.
I got into my barely-cublcle-sized room and stripped down, grabbing the supplied towel and wrapping it around my waist, sucking in my gut a little to make sure it had good purchase.
Just as I walked out Duane exited. He was still thin, but wiry, like a narrow swimmer. He was also utterly hairless from below his scalp. "Where you off to first?" His voice had that sort of dismissive quality. I didn't take offense, it's sort of a generational thing. I kind of get it.
"I'm gonna go shower. It's the least I can do." I grinned and walked down the corridor, down a flight of stairs and into the large shower area. I pulled the towel off and hung it on the hook, looking along the pool outside where Duane was on his way.
The shower was hot already, a nice change from the cool outside air. I put my head below the water and let it warm me to the bone. I grabbed two shots of the provided soap and lathered myself. I fully opened my eyes a second later and saw Duane had taken the next shower.
He was hairless behind the towel as well. I made no subterfuge while checking him out. He was too thin to have real 'washboard' abs, more like a smooth transition from his ribs to his groin.
His equipment was...it was pretty. He was narrower than what we'd consider 'average', slightly shorter as well, but he was also flaccid. His foreskin was almost perfectly run to just before the edge of his glans, a tiny bit of the pink-purple head poking out of the hood. It was like someone had taken a snapshot of the perfect cock, then painted it.
The sack below was a bit smaller than I might've thought.
I put the water out and grabbed the towel. I didn't put it on, instead opening an adjoining door leading to a steam room.
It was unsurvivable hot. I took a seat about ten feet in along the wall and leaned my head against the intensely hot tile.
There were two other people in the place, I could tell from the sounds. One guy directly across from where I sat, probably twelve feet or so. The other was to the right, maybe six feet or so. The guy across was relatively quiet. The guy to the right was shuffling a lot, moving. He sounded like an older guy.
The door opened and I cracked my lids. It was Rich. He took a seat near me on the left, "Kinda hot. How long you think you could stay in here, man?"
I shrugged, "Who knows? Twenty minutes? Long enough to get into trouble, maybe." I grinned and put my hand on his thigh in a sort of 'hey kiddo, how you doin' chaste way. "You?"
He nodded a bit, leaned forward, "About half an hour. Enough time to get in trouble a couple times." He reached down and tugged on himself a couple times. I felt him against my hand, wide as he'd always been and starting to get erect.
We sat there in silence for a few minutes. I heard the guy to my right stand and I opened my eyes to see him take two steps toward us, drop to his knees in front of Rich and spread his lips. He took some 3" of Rich into his mouth in a single shot.
One other thing about Rich. He's in that 1% of guys that's really, really hung. Thick and Long, with wide, raised veins coursing through it like gnarled roots. A somewhat jagged circumcision scar was back about an inch from the frenulum, it's virtually white shade a contrast from his dark tan shaft, lighter still than his brownish-purple head.
Seen it a lot. Never touched it. The guy on his knees next to me was very into it though. He was pretty heavyweight, his largish chin periodically hitting the tile seats. His breath came somewhat raggedly as he worked on Rich. He wasn't slowing down though. He reached below himself with his other hand...the hand he wasn't working on Rich, and was pumping himself almost painfully fast.
I glanced for another couple of minutes and stood, nodding to Rich as I walked towards the door. He nodded back with a kind of "meh" look on his face. Chances are the guy would work on him while working on himself, cum in a few minutes and Rich would mosey away to his next partner.
Rich would let guys work on him for ages. They'd sit on that extraordinary dick of his and ride until they came. Jack off until they came. Rich would have the stamina of a God. The only time he'd actually finish would be with someone pumping his ass full of jizz.
In fact, it was only during that last moment that Rich finally got his rocks off. Just fucking him wouldn't cut it. He needed that final few thrusts of a partner before he'd blow his load.
I'd seen it several times. This wasn't our first trip to a bathhouse, spa, or resort together.
I rinsed myself off again and went to the sauna.
The heavy door opened without much effort, letting the deep aroma of wood, heat, bodies fill my nostrils. The heat was less than the steam room, at least from the feeling. It was actually probably warmer.
I could hear flesh hitting flesh from around a blind corner. I passed the wooden wall and saw two older men. One was a thin, bald man probably in his early 60's. He was a bit taller than my 5'9", but not quite six feet. He had that older guy build, slight potbelly, thin in general. A trail of white hair on his chest down to his prick, currently shuttling in and out of the other man's ass.
The other man was thin and reasonably well built, a bit younger than the other man with a narrow ass. He had light grey hair, not much else anywhere. He was leaning on the wooden seat before him, easily taking the guy behind him with his eyes closed and a grin on his face. As I walked by them and saw, below the standing man's spread legs, a pair of pendulous balls swinging forward and back.
I took a seat somewhat away from the action, next to Duane. He was relaxed, not much phased by what was happening...except for his erection.
It WAS a grower. Not to the level of Rich, mind you, but pretty nice nonetheless. Just under seven inches and wide. His foreskin had pulled back as he'd gotten hard. He had somewhat less loose flesh than some uncut guys. Gorgeous setup though. His balls had even swollen a bit and were resting on the cedar boards beneath him.
Two other men occupied the room as well. A heavyset younger man in his early 20's, I'd guess, still wrapped in his towel but stroking an apparent bulge. The other was a black man in his 40's, watching while stroking a deep, dark still partially flaccid 7 or so inches.
I didn't say anything as we watched, but I got my first erection of the afternoon. It was thrumming. It'd come on quickly and I thought to myself about wanting to line up after the other guy was done.
I shook it off after a couple minutes and looked at Duane, "Think I'll head to other venues."
"Have fun" he said, grinning.
The place had an area on the main floor with several darkened rooms. They were connected through a set of passageways with small saloon doors on either side. These led to a few 'gloryhole' rooms which, to be honest, were my favorite spots. What can I say, I've got a pervy streak.
