4 comments/ 26565 views/ 7 favorites A Year at The Baths By: glory_first The weather mid-fall crisp and clear, parking just three car lengths from the entrance to the bathhouse almost precisely at 3pm, a full hour after the Saturday opening time, all good omens. Now, anticipation started growing into horny desire, considering how a month had passed since my last bathhouse visit. And it had been a year since my first visit - well, one year and three days since being introduced to the pleasures of a truly male only sauna. Yes, the date is really that important to me - and it also corresponds to the last time I was rimmed, unable to stop letting a man lick my horny asshole. The past year has been one of the most erotically varied times experienced in decades, in large part because visiting the bathhouse still feels so forbidden, while also becoming so natural. Not every visit has been worth remembering, much less describing, but the various experiences have combined into an irresistible part of what turns me on, offering a level of purely male ecstasy that is beyond even what my youthful fantasies had imagined, cumming to the group sex scenes in the gay porn mags I had bought just an hour or two before, after drinking a beer or two (or enjoying a hit or two) before purchasing them, hoping that 'just curious' was adequate cover for my interest in hard cocks getting off. Not having a helmet, jacket, or boots to deal with made undressing quicker, especially since upon entering, finished paying at the open counter that forms the rear of the bar area, I had observed several people already comfortable in their towels in the humid warmth of the common space of the first (or also ground) floor. Inside, I finished my beer quickly, the normal case, though sometimes, the porn playing on the small monitor at left corner of the bar can hold my attention, or even tempt me into ordering a second beer while watching. Today, unlike most visits, I went downstairs first, encountering a number of towels along the wall of the steambath. A couple of men were in the glass cubed, three benched level, dry sauna when I walked by it to look at the whirlpool, at least one hard, which was already a jolt, as such games are not common there at all. At the whirlpool, 2 men were sitting in the still water, making my heart begin to pound almost as quickly as the steps moving me to the shower area. Per the prominently displayed request, I quickly soaped and rinsed, then walked back to the stone/concrete/tile steps leading into the water, placing my towel over, and my small black bag at, the base of another of the bath house's oversized cast metal male torso sculptures. My hastily aroused suspicions concerning what had been going on were confirmed stepping into the truly invitingly warm water, small ripples barely disturbing the sight of a sexy hard cock being stroked. The man being stroked had his head back, eyes closed, clearly enjoying the sensations the other man was creating. He was maybe 30, with short dark hair, and settling myself down as soundlessly as possible in the water, my gaze centered on his crotch, my right hand reaching for my swelling cock. The man who was doing the stroking just glanced over, then returned his complete attention to the man next to him. Attention not being distracted by his own erection, obviously. The whirlpool is a tiled octagon, steps on one side, one direction outside and then leading down into it, creating a sort of temple effect with an inverted L of equal length, one leg leading into the water. An effect that the large aquarium with 3 large, grouper like, fish swimming lazily behind the broad glass - easily 3 yards on a side - adds to. Within the whirlpool, there are tiers, one to sit on, a lower and smaller one for feet to rest on, with the upper one covered with a thin sheet of water draining. The bottom area is quite small compared to the upper one, most of the lowest space taken up by the round metal of the central fountain and four smaller metal covers. Each section of the octagon, apart from the entry area, is easily large enough for two men to sit, without necessarily being in physical contact, though their feet would likely need careful positioning to avoid any contact. Or not, as the case may be. In the past, at least 3/4 of a year ago, I've seen two men play with the other's cock in the whirlpool, drifting in the still water, heads at each end of the whirlpool's length, feet and hands sliding along each other in almost trance like slowness, an occasional sigh matching the quivering reaction of an erect tip being touched, the 'eye' being lightly rubbed, or a foot being stroked. Of course, their fun pretty much ended when the powerful central water column became active. In subsequent visits, with one exception, the whirlpool has been devoid of activity, with the water's general coolness simply adding to my own cool reaction to its supposed attractions. Today, sitting comfortably in the wetness, warm water covering my nipples, my horniness floating in the buoyant sensation. Following many months of visiting a male only sauna, my hesitation to watch other men has changed. Of course, 'public' is a flexible concept, though by now, my reaction to what goes on has itself become enjoyably more public. The quickly finished beer of just a couple of minutes ago, along with a couple of tokes beforehand, were certainly helping me slide into a much more physical mood, helped along by the obvious pleasure of the man being jacked off in front of me. The underwater motions were gliding, almost ethereal, and I couldn't stop from sliding my own hand along my now hot length, no longer able to resist the attraction of jacking off. The man doing the stroking reached his other hand up to start playing with his partner's nipple, whose head sank back completely as he surrendered to the completely male bliss, one I am intimately addicted to. Considering that watching two men get off playing with each other's cocks and nipples is what had led me to first stroke myself in public at a porn theater, in quick turn leading to my first public blowjob - being from a man just adding to the already erotic thrill of enjoying something forbidden, this also being the first time ever stroking myself in public. And so obviously turned on by watching hot gay sex. The kinky feeling of experiencing my dirtiest and most secret fantasies about male sex made me initially helpless in the pleasure of my erect cock feeling a man's mouth slide down it, just like the man on the screen getting sucked while having his nipple stroked - one of the most memorable steps of the progression that had led me here, sitting naked in the still water, my cock leading me on in the warm wetness, enjoying the scene of two men playing with each other. A scene where getting involved was an inviting reality, even if my own stroking made such coherent thoughts difficult. Making me feel completely aroused at just thinking about it, I considered sliding my foot out. Just the idea made me harder, sliding circled fingers and thumb reaching the magic zone just under my cock head. Feeling a very gentle contact, an essentially floating, sliding touching of skin, a foot just beside, and then lightly on top, of mine. Shifting my attention to the faces above the water, noticing that the man whose warm skin was creating a reaction of pure sensual delight was looking at my crotch, making me stroke harder, knowing he could see. He looked up, smiling faintly. After that first touch, he turned his attention back to the man to his right, starting to slide his tongue along the other man's ear and neck. Then his tongue traced the slightly opened lips, quickly turning into a deeply passionate kiss. I sighed, letting my foot reach out, sliding it up along his leg. Not so accidentally, it exposed my own jacking off more clearly, even if the pair near me was completely entranced in their own games. The man in the middle spread his own leg as my toes continued to explore along the inside of his thigh, my foot advancing forward and then retreating partially, prolonging the moment until reaching his sexy cock. Shifting a bit, my back turned 45° against the straight edge of the section I was beginning to sprawl in. Sliding a bit forward, my flattened left palm lifted most my weight from off the bench. This allowed my foot sole to start pressing perfectly against his balls while he played with his own erect rod. Finally, I was enjoying getting off with a man in the water, surrendering to the pleasure of sex in water, much the same way the man he was still jacking off had surrendered to him. Completely and utterly willingly - a major attraction of the bathhouse, those not so rare times when everyone involved is interested in nothing but giving and sharing one another's total pleasure. It isn't always so, of course, but really good group sex is about sharing more than anything else, being the best way to increase everyone's enjoyment. The fully entranced pair kept kissing, passing into the sloppy style resulting from being too turned on to do anything more complex than sticking tongues in and meshing their motions, grinding lips together. I floated into a new position, my right leg now along the bench, slight bent to fit the angle, my left foot sliding along the length of his hard shaft. Till this point, the third man had done nothing but enjoy the attentions of the man my foot kept playing with, a man who seemed even more turned on than the one he was stroking. For reasons I completely understood, happy to contribute to them. We moved to the edge of orgasm, but none of us were tempted to the point of cumming uncontrollably, time stretching as the water made us almost weightless, each hair floating in the gentle currents, adding to the arousal. A state where sensual and sexual mean the same thing, inseparable. When the powerful central fountain started, it was less distracting than normal, its powerful currents adding a more primitive rhythm to my foot's grinding motion, and he responded by sagging a bit into the splashing water. This increased the force of our contact, making him start to move his whole body, concentrating within a narrow focus. But as has always been the case, the fountain was just too much, the third man leaving after a minute, his hard cock drawing my eyes to its jaunty bouncing motion as he walked out of the jacuzzi. The other man and I stayed a bit longer, but then I too climbed out. Cock hard, deciding to walk naked to the steambath entrance holding my towel and bag, I put my things away in the cubbyhole. I paused to grab a couple of condoms from my black cloth bag and take off my water streaked glasses - wearing them had contributed to the delightful whirlpool experience, as normally, they are put away with my towel in the wall alcove or at the bust in front of the steps going into the whirlpool. I like to do a hit or two of Rush before going inside the steamy space, based on many months of experience, but after spending such an enticing time in the water, the steamroom's offer of enveloping warmth, accompanied by the chance to get off with other men, provided a sensual and sexual lure, as especially the warmth would be welcome before going upstairs to see what was going on in the dark area, booths, and porn theater. Closing the door, my eyes took a while to even begin to penetrate the gloom. My ears, however, were providing a fine idea of what was going on before that, the sounds of cocksucking being plain enough. I moved slowly towards the far wall, where at least one man was playing with his half-erect dick. At least one pair was sitting on the bench, though it was not really possible to see what they were doing. Nearing the entrance area to both the shower inside the steam room and the dark areas towards the rear, new sounds were becoming clearer, the slapping rhythm of a man getting fucked, just underneath the sounds of cock being wetly sucked. Having almost cum several times in the jacuzzi, my cock was at best half hard, my interest was more cerebral than not. After all, it was a crisp fall Saturday afternoon outside, and the attractions of the bath house were just starting to find their season as outdoor alternatives, such as lakes to enjoy in the hot sun, became memories until next year, meaning that the number of men and opportunities could only grow as the day went on. Eyes adapting to the low, blue tinted, light, the dark area in rear revealed several pairs, and a couple of men slowly walking around. I stopped, a bit beyond the narrowest constriction of the path, and my hand naturally moved to touch my cock, simply enjoying the sounds and sights. The door opened and closed at least a couple of times, and the fucking pair split up, revealing that a third man had been kneeling down, pressed against the curving tile, a fact which went a ways to explain the sounds, even though there was at least one other pair enjoying sweaty oral sex in the heat. A taller and bigger man slid by me, his hand trailing behind, touching my thigh, then lightly sliding over my cock. As almost is always the case, my gasp betrayed my reaction, a reaction which remains difficult to suppress, since often, it leads to hot sex, making my efforts mixed at best - after all, when a naked stranger is touching your cock, the pleasure is generally understandable, especially when my own hand reaches for him. After a moment of mutual touching, he turned his back. He slid his ass first, and then his hand reaching for my cock, the same as mine was doing with his. After all, such fun was part of the reason we were both there, naked, among other men getting off with each other openly. Touching and rubbing, both of us easily 2/3 erect, he began to thrust his ass to grind my cock. The offer, as it became obvious that it was, included his hand trying to place my cock at his ass, was too abrupt - and not really something that interested me, even with condoms in hand, right then. This too is part of learning how to enjoy a true male only sauna - not every offer need be accepted. A lesson that applies far beyond the use of condoms, as simply not everyone gets off with everyone, a fact that applies to myself as well. Various offers of mine have been turned down, and learning to accept that with aplomb is one of the things which has marked the last year of visits, along with learning how to stare in a fixedly disinterested stare manner, a pose almost universally accepted without any unwanted advances. Of course, the opposite is also often true, and the watching has become a clear part of the process of getting really hot with other men. After a couple more moments of his trying to tempt me to fuck him, I left the steam, crossed the landing of the steps from upstairs, then turned on the nearest shower across the steps leading upstairs. The water from the rain style shower head was almost cold, leading to just a quick rinse. Personally, I have never really been a fan of the hot/cold contrast which many consider a necessary part of the sauna experience. After waiting, pressing the button resulted in water at least warm enough for soaping myself with the lightly orange scented soap. Several other naked men came out of the steam room, one hard and walking towards the loudly fountaining whirlpool. Rinsing off, I decided to at least check the whirlpool again, since at least I knew the water was invitingly warm today, in contrast to most previous visits. This time, walking up the steps to the platform leading down into the water, I had nothing to put away. Without glasses, it was hard to make out any detail of the man sitting against the opposite wall. The whirlpool was in its third mode, powerful jets on the seats making a ring of moving water, though I had heard nothing before leaving the shower area. Settling into the same area as 15 minutes before, with another man pretty much in the same area as before, the bubbling water along the bench was not quite as energetic as from the central fountain, but finding the right place to sit on or between jets made a difference to how the water splashed. The other man moved a bit closer, leading me to move my own legs wider, part of the wordless process of two strangers making contact in a bubbling jacuzzi. Though fairly confident it was not the same man as before, without glasses, it was hard to be certain. When we touched, my cock no longer cared about such trivial details, especially after he moved a still closer, our legs now lightly touching. His hand slid over my thigh, his fingers floating along closer to my now wanting cock, finally feeling his fingers closing around it. Again, the sound of my own desire escaped in response, making him start to slide his hand lower, making my cock stiffer as he turned a bit, bringing his other hand against my chest. Of course, the combination of being stroked and having my nipple played with was irresistible, my eyes closing as my head sank back, the stray thought arising that I probably now looked like the man I had seen before, for exactly the same reason, with the same complete lack of concern or shame. It didn't take long for the combination of bubbling warm water and a man's hot touch to bring me close to the edge of orgasm, and keep me there. After a year of essential disinterest in the whirlpool, I was finally discovering the truth of the first guest book comment I had read about this bathhouse, remarking on a very hot and crowded time in the whirlpool. Admittedly, this time wasn't crowded, suiting my own taste fine, as concentrating on not cumming was becoming a lot of effort even without any other enticements like other hands or mouths using me, or watching men getting sucked off, perched on the top of the whirlpool's top ledge. An effort becoming easier, at least sometimes, through the distraction of the splashing water, that occasionally bubbled onto my face. The chlorine content was quite high, especially when breathing in after water had reached my nose, or entered my often open and muttering mouth, incapable of stopping such words as 'oh yeah, fuck yeah ... fuck yeah ... oh yeah.' When in my eyes, the water wasn't particularly pleasant either, but in general, this was a minor distraction from the delightful skills of the man fondling my cock and balls, pinching my nipple lightly as his leg rubbed against mine. His tongue found my ear, bringing me near the final edge of orgasm again. As my right hand gripped his cock, I could hear his moaning in response. My left hand stopped his from moving along my turned on cock, leading him to squeeze and then loosen his grasp along my totally aroused length. I was suspended in ecstasy, and again, the intimate pleasure of sharing the whirlpool with another man was as crystal clear as just a few minutes, watching my foot play with another man's stiff rod, a personal introduction to the delights of getting hard in the jacuzzi with other men. However, this bubbling mode kept creating a fair amount of more than occasionally unpleasant splashing, noticeable even through the haze of being totally turned on. The distractions didn't stop, finally making me move a bit towards the steps, somewhat regretfully because without them, I'm certain there wouldn't have been any way to stop from cumming. I smiled at the other man before rising, gesturing at the water column, and he smiled back in seemingly sad understanding. A certain thought that I had seen him at least a couple of times over the last year, especially in the whirlpool, let me believe that I wasn't the only one that would enjoy the whirlpool programmed differently. By now, quite off my typical routine for the best of reasons, I dried and went upstairs. The dark area seemed empty again, and though one booth was in use, the others offered nothing but empty space. Reaching the porn area at the end of the hall, and the other end of the building, the scene being played on the wallscreen was alluring, a natural invitation to grab my cock through the ends of the towel. Rimming, like nipple play, really turns me on, and gay porn shows both styles, the hard cocks demonstrating just how unalone I am in that pleasure. A Year at The Baths Looking around the theater, with its soft, not really dim, lighting, I saw a man lying on his stomach on the top row, outer leg slightly drawn. There were also a couple men on the other two lower tiers. but the man on the top row was intriguing - several times, I have seen men lay like that, but I have never seen what happens, as all the other times involved booths, with generally quickly closed doors. Deciding to do at least one hit of Rush before the action on the screen grew even hotter, I stood there, hand now stroking my horny cock. A man went by, looked around, and then left. There being no reason to stop stroking myself watching sexy porn, actually leaving to do a hit became delayed. Not all gay porn disinterests me, and a man with a hard cock having his ass licked by another turned on man always makes me hard. Another towel clad man walked by, with an essentially shaved head, somewhat smaller and slimmer than I, with a smallish black bag slung over his shoulder. He took a couple of steps further in, then returned to stand next to me, glancing around. Observing him from the side of my vision, I saw his head scan the area, followed by moving on up to top of the back area. He sat down next to the lying man, a cue for me to leave. I quickly entered the empty booth at the other end of the corridor into the theater area, locked the door, and opened the little brown bottle, and took a deep hit. The feeling that spread holding my breath as long as possible, hammering my cock with a feeling of unstoppable immensity, was a perfect accompaniment to my thoughts of what happen, the feeling of my hand touching my cock as I rearranged my towel so that its slit was directly centered a further inducement to going back to the same place to observe what was going on. Hand within the folds of the towel, I walked back, the intensity of my desire wonderfully amplified by the Rush still making me feel so free. Rush is quite a dangerous thing - that feeling of complete freedom is not really accurate, even as the feeling of total sluttiness overwhelms any inhibitions. The scene made my cock stand out, reacting to the laying man being rimmed by a man he hadn't even seen before he started, a man playing with his own hard cock. My fist's motion settled into the same rhythm, now learning at least one variation of the games played with a man laying on his stomach in a bathhouse. A thought that just made my slutty stroking better, filing away that information in memory before settling in to just absorb the reality, completely enthralled by a living example of another of my favorite man to man activities, a reliable source of arousal, especially while jacking off. The rimming was followed by a finger circling the laying man's well lubricated asshole, then starting to slide in. This change offered enough of a break to leave and do another hit of Rush, living out the sort of fantasy which had first filled my thoughts with sexual longing in the early 80s, masturbating to gay porn, with the little brown bottle making it feel so perfect. My cock now really hard, the man with two fingers in the other moaning one's ass saw me re-enter and open my towel. He didn't seem to mind as he returned his attention to the other man, now raised up on his knees, his ass completely available, begging for more as a third finger began to join the other two. Riveted as the sitting man stopped playing with himself, I watched him pull out a bottle of lube from the bag. Opening it, he let some of the fluid fall onto his fingers and between the other man's ass cheeks. He again took his time spreading it around, and I could see how the bent over man was playing with his own hard cock, obviously enjoying the results of the other's foresight and talents. His moans became louder than the porn, still showing a man getting stroked and rimmed, when the fingers started to go deeper. I kept pumping my shaft, adding my own moaning to the mix, knowing that no one cared about such trivial things in here. Playing with myself, the finger fucking above me became more intense, at some point turning into true fucking, the thrusting fingers completely in control of the other man's pleasure. The moans being an obvious sign of the reaction the lubed fingers were creating, a result of his completely passive role, having his horny his ass being played with in public by the first stranger that had wanted it. A thought arose, making my wrapped hand move even faster - it could have been me, not that it mattered by now. Whenever the next chance arose, it was obvious that taking advantage of a laying man offering his ass to any stranger who wanted it was something to indulge in - especially if I made certain that some lube was in my own bag. An easily met condition, as the bathhouse also had lube available, in the same style of packet as condoms. The lube came from the same anti-AIDS source as the free condoms, and the packaging noted it was latex safe. I have actually jacked off at home using the lube, simply to see what it was like - neither as fantastic as Vaseline in terms of friction, nor as simple as KY in terms of clean up, it would certainly work well enough the next time an opportunity presented itself. A series of thoughts pushed my heavy cock close to cumming, fantasizing about the next chance, beyond hesitation from taking advantage of such a willing partner, having seen it happen it in public. Likely, I would leave the door to a booth open - being public adds its own thrill, a feeling of being in complete control, aware how it would add to the laying man's pleasure, knowing that anyone could see how he was getting off, his ass still open to anybody walking by. Like other thoughts over the years of enjoying gay porn, these seemed so much clearer and realistic after enjoying several deep hits from that magical brown bottle. My hard cock was dominating me completely, demanding release, not caring about cumming on the floor. Retaining a bit of calm in extending my fist's motion to cover the entire length of my cock, no longer caring if anybody saw just how turned on I was watching the pair at the back. The crest passed, in small but significant part because making a mess isn't really in keeping with how the bathhouse works. Riding down the other side, I decided to do a last hit, followed by a return to the steam room. Till now, much of my pleasure had been from watching and stroking, making it time to finally let myself go completely. Returning to the steambath, it was a surprise to see that 3/4 of an hour had passed, a period which likely covered at least a half hour of jacking off or being stroked. This too is one of the effects of the bathhouse - time as marked by a clock compared to the feeling of time passing consciously simply loses any felt connection. The time that had passed since noticing the time at the bar when drinking my beer had been filled with such intense pleasure that actually estimating how long I had sat in the whirlpool with a hard cock wasn't possible without some serious, and easily mistaken, effort. The passing time had seemed both very long and very short, including the realization that I had likely already played with at least 3 stranger's cocks, while at least two strangers had played with mine. A typical visit, apart from the new experience of the jacuzzi. At some point, it may be that the bathhouse will no longer offer unanticipated pleasures, but after a year, this hasn't been true. Near the entrance, I took off my towel and glasses, grabbed a couple of condoms from the cloth bag left handed, opened the door and re-entered the very familiar world of a male only steam bath, in particular the only one I have visited (apart from the older and now disused steam room one floor above) - over and over again. Sweaty naked men can make visiting a steambath a truly irresistible - at times, the more the merrier attitude is overwhelming. Once enjoyed in full, repeating the experience becomes the sort of easily achieved goal that rewards repeated indulgence. By now, the bathhouse had been open for a couple of hours on a Saturday afternoon, leading to a not unsurprising amount of business. A conclusion reinforced by the number of towels in the alcove. Entering the blue lit dimness, only one person was visible standing near the entrance glass door. My eyes weren't adapted to the gloom, a lack which didn't slow my step much while moving to my goal, the rear area, my cock already growing in anticipation. A play area that guarantees a certain direct simplicity in finding other naked men wanting sex. Walking on, a certain feeling was settling around my cock, spreading out towards my center, a flooding awareness of the coming opportunity to take full advantage of another bathhouse benefit, generally unadvertised but commonly known among repeat visitors. I was horny, especially after the whirlpool and the porn theater, confident knowing that in here, others were feeling exactly the same way, just waiting for the chance to get off. I decided to move to the rear area between the marginally lit open space and the even more marginally lit back section. I like being being able to see what is going on, at least in outline, when close enough to see in the dimness and without my glasses. In the truly black spaces, seeing is not a factor, but in general, I prefer watching while participating, seeing what is happening adding to the intensity - whenever my eyes are open, which is certainly not all the time, especially when the pleasure is so complete. Walking on, unable to stop my hand from reaching for my swelling cock, with only the barest of excuses - one couple was clearly entwined on the bench, even if precisely what they were doing with each other was more a matter of speculation than direct observation. Not that this made any difference, especially when glancing around, seeing at least one man with his hand on his cock to my right, almost across from the pair. Another man was sitting on the bench further on, his head turned towards the couple and his arm moving in a manner suggesting precisely what his hand was doing. Moving on, my hand sliding along my almost rigid shaft, I saw one man against the wall, both hands at his crotch, not quite covering and not quite exploring it. His head was also turned to see along the bench, and as the sounds of cock sucking started close behind me, his hand slid along his shaft, pressing it downwards against his thigh. I curved nearer to the section entrance, staying at an angle from the wall area occupied by the now jacking off man. Till now, I had not really been involved except as a minor distraction as he focused on the action, and my taste is more directed towards the contrast between dark and light, public and private when settling in to this area. Leaning a bit against the wall, a figure that had already moved in and out of my view when walking to this spot reappeared, his hand reaching most discretely towards my thigh, lightly and slowly sliding upwards, curving rearwards, adding just the hint of his desire to pull me closer. Something which became temporarily impossible to satisfy as I slumped against the wall when his other hand reached my nipple. I kept stroking my cock in total satisfaction, my left hand lazily reaching out until finding sweaty skin, then sliding on. The hand on my thigh loosened, moving higher, getting closer to my waiting balls while my own hand rubbed over his curly pubic hair. Continuing lower, fingers spread, covering his pubis, then turning, my hand met the root of his cock between my middle and ring finger, my fingers now lightly grasping his quite tight scrotum. After making this promising contact, full of male lust, I spared a last look around before focusing my attention completely on more direct matters. Other men were around, at least one pair fucking, and another pair orally involved, one man kneeling, hands on the hips of the other, who was leaning against the wall, close to the other entrance to this section of the steamroom. The lighting there allowed me to see a cocksucking performance, keeping my attention for a bit, though it became clear that the level of sounds surrounding us meant at least one other pair further away in the blackness was getting off that way too. When his hand reached my balls, I moaned, sliding split fingers outwards on his tautly velvet skin, gliding along his shaft until reaching his flared cock head. Making him moan in turn, place his hand over mine, stopping it on a downstroke, creating the chance to stroke me without any interference on my side. Keeping the tension perfect without moving, this stranger's hand started manipulating me into paradise. Leading me, in a dream like fashion, to try to return the favor, my hand curving around his cock, beginning to move along its hard length. In an equally dream like fashion, after some impossible to measure interval as he kept playing with my cock and nipple, my right hand travelled over his chest, looking for his nipple. Finding a hard nub, my fingers began playing with it, as my left hand started to jerk him off. Leading us to turn closer, taking up more of the space as we shifted position. Looking around again, I could see one threesome, a man getting sucked as he was fucked, a pair on the bench, and another pair standing maybe a yard away, against the same wall, but nearer the bench. Which, as I focused a bit, had a man sitting on it, stroking his cock as he licked the hard cock in front of him, sharing it with the third man's hand. Clearly, everyone else was involved in their games as we were, making it unlikely anyone would be moving any time soon, except closer to each other. Closing my eyes again, my right hand slid under his arm, then went upwards to feel his head, positioning it as I bent closer to his head, making it impossible for him to move without me reacting, and holding him in place. My first, almost innocent intention, was to just lick his ear, knowing that this sort of liquid motion felt as good as having one's nipple played with. At the first touch of my wet tongue, he moaned again, his sliding hand tempting me to continue exploring what was in reach, I couldn't stop, his scent and taste simply too tempting now, forcing me to run my tongue down his neck, then back upwards, tantalizingly close to his lips, before moving back to his ear, beginning to allow my teeth to slide along a stranger's skin, though with a certain restraint. A restraint that faded as he again began to jerk me harder, the motions on my cock becoming more tempting the harder my teeth pressed, moved, then tightened again. Unlike the last time, fucking a man's willing ass in almost the same place in the steamroom, we were definitely not the center of anyone's attention, which suited me perfectly, all my attention focusing on him. By now, it was clear we would be kissing, a still rare form of pleasure when shared with a man. His reactions and his body made it inevitable, making me horny enough to let myself give in to the inevitable. By this point in my life, I have likely played with at least 100 strangers' cocks, and the total could easily be 50% higher, as sometimes, simply losing track of where hands are straying and playing is part of the pleasure making counting irrelevant. Though easily inflated in the other direction, as a total, 100 remains a reliable enough number for comparison, at porn booth video gloryholes, bookstores, adult theaters, and here. Especially here, as generally, the experience is much more rewarding, though a gloryhole experience a few months ago reminded me of the exquisite pleasures of being against a flat surface, arms spread upwards, only my cock beyond the barrier, pumping hot cum past the unyielding wall into a man's totally yielding mouth or ass. Obviously, kissing a man is not possible at a gloryhole, a fact making my first experience of it at a porn complex so extraordinary - the older man, who called himself Peter, was an incredibly skilled kisser, who opened my horizons through our shared and undeniable enjoyment with our mouths pressed against the other's, hard cocks touching, making me reply in kind, my tongue deep in his mouth. And kissing him after he had sucked my cock was even hotter than any fantasy, tasting my own pre-cum in his mouth, my tongue's need to explore such sexual intimacy driving me deeper and harder against his open mouth, as my hand grasped both our cocks and stroked, enhancing the feeling we were creating. Compared to kissing, cocksucking has been far more common till now, though always with a condom, with only the occasional kiss on a man's shaft - especially during my first experience kissing a man. I love sucking cock now, accepting the mild disadvantages associated with a condom, ensuring that the experience is both less abandoned and more sequential. Though I have sucked two cocks off, one after the other, it has only occurred once - though sucking two or three cocks in a visit is not uncommon, it isn't really the same as being on your knees, and taking another cock as soon as the first one has cum. The same applies to two men sucking my covered cock, as till now, I have never sucked cock with another man at the same time. Having two men kneel like that is an incredible feeling on the receiving end, and one I would like to offer. Even when it is my cock being sucked, I try to make sure a condom is used, especially after seeing just how casual sex between men at the bathhouse is. I understand the reason why this is so, but that changes very little of the reality, even when another man's warm lips start to go down on my cock, making such thoughts very distant. Something that happens at least during 2 out of 3 visits, even if my record in stopping it and putting on a rubber is much better than that. In the present, though not really a coherent thought, the natural idea of teasing his cock further made me start to bite gently along his neck, growing closer to my final goal, recognizing that this time, there would be no stopping myself from kissing this sexy naked stranger, the one making my cock feel so good. A somewhat uncommon occurrence even at this stage, as my tongue has tasted and teased many more men than those who have kissed my wanting lips. Kissing is somehow another level, requiring a certain compatibility that is trickier to achieve than even sucking a hard cock off. Not impossible, by any means, but quite rare. Here and now, sharing this wonderful level with him, my tongue slid over his parted lips, his tongue sliding over mine in return, following it back, entering my mouth as we began rubbing cock to cock, enjoying a uniquely male pleasure. His tongue exploring as hungrily as mine, creating a connection more individual than any other I know, we both recognized the skills of the other, skills already leading us further. I finally broke the kiss, letting my tongue run down back down to his neck, our hands returning to each other's jutting cocks. By now, he was too close to cumming to stop himself, and I wouldn't have let him anyways, since making him cum was the only way to prevent him from making me cum first. A certain unavoidable sloppiness and distraction takes over the closer someone gets to cumming, even as your focus on them tightens, making your own orgasm recede a bit from the one that is beginning to dominate the other person under your control. This is true whether the other person is male or female - and the best players of this particular game know that there are never any losers. My left hand began playing again with his still hard nipple as my open mouth slid under his jaw, my own breathing heavy against his neck. My lips closed on his ear, feeling a small hard stud, my tongue lightly darting over the covered skin. He slumped and moaned, his hand unmoving on my cock, so close to cumming. Pumping his cock, I began kissing him again, my hand demanding that he surrender to my lust. His hand moved slightly on my aroused cock, causing my focus to waver for a bit, in the best way. A Year at The Baths Standing together much the same way as from that very first experience of kissing a man, it occurred to me that the largest change from then and now, we were completely public, at least to all the other men having sex around us. In a hazy but hot way, the realization arose that his cock was positioned perfectly to cum on me, adding a surprising last incentive to my efforts as I pulled him closer, feeling his cock swell in my circled grasp. I now fully understood why Peter had wanted me to cum on him then, begging while licking my ear, wanting the sexy proof of just where the game ends, achieving orgasm with another man's willing participation, knowing how I had surrendered to him then, a surrender impossible to resist, especially after being kissed so perfectly. Now, the hot jets reaching my sweaty skin, I knew just what a thrill my orgasm had been then to Peter. The path from the unknown to the known has been one filled with incredible surprises, and this was just another one. Feeling another man's semen splatter on me made me feel incredibly hot, now pulling him to my mouth, forcing my tongue past his barely resisting lips, his moaning an open sign of his pleasure as I kissed him deeply, his grasped cock becoming slippery as he kept pulsing, my fingers gliding over his cockhead, then returning to jacking his shaft, wanting still more of his cum, the same cum being spread over his still hard cock by my sliding hand. The thought of leaving the steambath as I was, hand and body having another man's cum on it, impossible to overlook, became almost unbearably erotic, a feeling that grew when his hand began moving again along my still rigid shaft, adding to the temptation of now distant fantasy. Remaining in the steam, the cum did not rapidly cool, a notable difference from decades of experience. Another surprise after the thought of how closely this had seemed to repeat my first time kissing and cumming with a man, with a reserved role. Discovering the depth of my desire for a man's cum on my skin as I jacked him off opened a new perspective, followed by the additional thrill of being seen like that. From the beginning of taking this path of sex outside the home, I have a certain, currently shrinking, reluctance to simply cumming, without caring about where my semen ends up afterwards. Here, I generally cum only with a condom on, allowing more than one problem to be avoided at a time. Glory holes were less fraught, since dealing with my cum was not a concern at all - a delightfully unchanging part of the experience as your entire being centers on the orgasm a stranger is creating. These thoughts scattered at the moment his cum erupted, some of it lubricating his rod. My fingers were reaching his balls, playing in his bush, moving against his inner thigh. In return, his hand renewed its stroking my cock, causing the idea of showing myself as I left to fade quickly into the background of more immediate needs. Now, he was the one taking charge, with my cock in complete agreement. However, he remained hard, the pleasure of stroking him just adding to my own growing passion. In my experience, most men don't stay hard after cumming, though it does occur with me, at least more often than I have encountered it with other men - something all of the women in a relationship I have ever fucked have helped to occur, though at times, the soreness afterwards on both sides proved that extended sexual satisfaction may have a few costs to be paid afterwards. Not that such memories made any difference while playing with a stranger's cock, advantage having passed firmly from me to him. An advantage that grew as his own skill returned, my efforts beginning to grow distracted as the pleasure spread from my cock. We were still kissing, but it was his tongue in my mouth that took charge, growing more demanding. Emphasized by his hand reaching my ass, beginning to pull me closer to his still erect cock. Knowing he was still hard, my hand rubbing his slippery semen, made it easier to give in, pretending as if he hadn't even cum yet. Giving in to his own desire made my own grow, especially as his own squeezing motion started to slide up to just under my flared and cut cockhead, its most sensitive place. Beginning to really jack me off, tongue deep in my mouth, then retreating, moving towards my neck, the minor change in sensation offered chance to open my eyes, to see other strangers near me getting off. As my head moved, the entire steam room was filled with naked men, all hard. Being one of them added to my own overwhelming need to cum, a need encouraged by the man I had already jacked off, his cum still so sexy on my skin, with a certain shimmer of pearl even in the cool low light. Cum which could be seen by any other man in here, a thought bringing orgasm closer, allowing anyone to see me cumming at a man's hand. His tongue reaching my ear, flicking over its length in confident certainty of my response, I could not stop from moaning, my hand slowing on his cock. In this round, he had the upper hand. When his words penetrated my mind, I was helpless - 'come, yeah.... yeah come now.... yeah.... cum on me.' At some point, my balls started their primal pumping, my cock matching the pulses without any hesitation as they each jet flew, my body surrendering and orgasming so good in public, hot cum hitting him as eagerly as his had hit me before. In bliss, his tongue entered my mouth, making me jerk him harder, increasing the intimate contract between us, both of us satisfied sluts - or just really horny men looking for release, something understood by virtually all bathhouse visitors. The simple pursuit of such completely male satisfaction is one of its enduring attractions, again obvious here, our cum on each other, with the other men still getting off with each other. Our kiss lingered, our cocks subsiding, we reluctantly parted, a bit of slowly growing space appearing. Opening my eyes to look downwards, I noticed he was doing the same thing, head moving slowly to let his eyes cover the skin area with our cum adhering to it. Seeing it, I moved my hands to his cheeks, positioning his mouth, placing my mouth on his, wanting to again kiss such a skilled partner. His response, equally passionate, sent his tongue twisting and sliding over mine, as we moved together, my cock pressed against his, then grinding, sliding together, rubbing, feeling the sliding lubrication spreading on our skin, mixed with sweat. After a couple moments of gentle caresses and movements, we returned to the distance between us before my grabbing him to kiss. The heat was starting to be noticeable, one of the things to truly pay attention to here - it is easy to lose track of time in the steamy pleasure. He began moving away, giving my ass a last pat before striding to the door. I slid back against the wall, still weak. And also giving in to my desire to keep watching and hearing the men around me getting off, right hand enclosing my cock's current full length, squeezing lightly, its length too short for my palm to slide along. Finally, having watched a sixsome develop near me, it was truly time to leave the heat. I went under the shower, which was cold - call me picky, but neither cold nor hot water showers appeal to me, especially after a while in the humid heat of the steamroom. It couple a minutes until the water temperature cycled through to something pleasant, though I had at least rinsed my sweaty in the cold stream of water - why this is supposed to de rigeur after a sauna escapes me. I rarely want to feel cold water at all, and though cooling down is a realistic requirement after being in a sauna's heat, warm water works just fine. I dried off, put on my glasses and wrapped my towel, went upstairs, and changed. Paying for me beer before leaving - the key number for the locker is used to keep track of the bar tab - the clock in the booth area indicated I had been there more than hour, most of it spent hard, in water or steam or watching porn, always with other naked men. Even after a year, it remains an undeniable fact that is one of the most delightful place catering to male needs I have ever enjoyed, while remaining both tasteful and erotic. And, the sort of place most women I have ever known are unable to comprehend its basic offer - complete freedom to enjoy getting off with any random partner, and the obvious reality of men wanting and achieving it.