1 comments/ 14074 views/ 3 favorites Bathhouse Travel Ch. 01 By: glory_first Spring has arrived, and due to an unexpected confluence of events, my afternoon was free to ride to another, fairly old, bathhouse, an hour away and on the fringes of a city in another state, over the natural border formed by a river. It was a Saturday, just missing the two days a week this bathhouse allows women admittance. A fact I've mentioned to my wife, who has a truly minimal interest in driving an hour to visit anything resembling a sauna, as several are close to where we live. Checking it out before putting any effort into having my wife with me at a bathhouse was a simple requirement to meet. The nearby bathhouse I regularly visit is a truly nice sauna, but it does not allow women, even though the occasional woman expresses interest on the sauna's Internet guestbook. Only to be told this a male only establishment, to their general disappointment. Which I actually understand - the bathhouse is a great place for anonymous male sex, which is not precisely a reason to exclude women, at least from some perspectives. Such as women also being curious to experience what group sex with a like minded group of strangers is. 'Fantastic' being a recurrent bathhouse answer, one that distinguishes a good bathhouse from so many other places to enjoy sex. Arriving just around opening on a Saturday, I parked the bike and walked a bit, found the address, rang the buzzer, becoming basically the first visitor of the day. The changing area was essentially utilitarian, without appeal, more like a worn athletic locker, and the lack of anywhere to sit or put clothing was a definite step down from the two other similar establishments which I have enjoyed. Tightening my towel, I walked around to the small counter area, and then ordered a beer. Which was freshly tapped, not bottled as at my regular bathhouse, though the foam running down the side of the glass was not something I particularly appreciate - unlike some people, who prefer their beer a bit more straightforwardly presented. Sitting, drinking cold beer at the small bar, a couple of other visitors arrived in the time it took me to drain the glass. I stood, and began to explore the area, walking into a section of divided rooms, a small video area, and a rear area for smokers. Which was a bit of a surprise, as it was fairly dark and discrete, though the fact it was against an outdoor building wall was the simple explanation for why it was there. Tobacco has never appealed to me, so I didn't bother to explore further before looking for the saunas. Which were downstairs. The Finnish sauna was small, with a glass panelled wall. There was a decent sized shower space, with three showerheads, and a door on the other far side, which I was certain led to the steam bath. However, the layout took a bit of work to unpuzzle. Turning left after entering the dim space, it was warm, and somewhat inviting, but the not what I would really consider a steam bath, especially as the space lacked anywhere to sit. I left, going back upstairs to see what I missed on my first round, and pretty much determined that I had seen pretty much everything available. The other visitors were not in evidence, though there was no escaping the truth that this bathhouse place was definitely on a smaller scale, and more worn. Not uncomfortable, just lacking in any particular charm. Though definitely a bathhouse, even if on a smaller and older scale, with several men my age having arrived in the meantime. The porn was not particularly interesting, and I decided to make a final, thorough round before riding back home. Going down the stairs, my eyes adapted to the lower light level. I hung my towel, and placed my glasses and bag on a narrow ledge that was barely adequate for the purpose. Naked, I went to the shower space, and pressed. The water was hot, bordering on too hot to deal with, but the space was large, with frosted glass panels separating it from the passages between the two sauna areas. Entering the steam bath area, the temperature had not changed at all, but details I hadn't noticed before became more apparent, including a door handle on the right. The space to the left was still a bit hard to explain, though it did have a certain darkroom vibe. I entered the steam room, which was quite hot, and explored for a bit, finding a bench against the opposite wall. Sitting down, there were no obvious signs of other men, though their towels were hung up on the wall outside. Getting used to the steamy conditions, I spread my legs and began to play with my cock. A blast of steam filled the room, followed by the sound of a heater working. Slowly, it became dimly apparent that a man was standing near the door, along with the reality that this steambath was on the hotter end of the scale. The other man left the steambath, and I heard a shower start almost immediately. After getting harder and jacking for a bit, I left, not caring about my swelled cock. I took a shower in the larger area, the water quite hot. Returning to the steamroom, I explored the outer darkened area a bit more. Apparently, at least part of the space I had first wandered in was for a shower, most likely cold. Returning, sitting and stroking myself, my thoughts were slow. The place was not bad on its own terms, but it fell far short of the sort of sauna to even try to get my wife to visit. Another or the same man was near the door, his presence more obvious this time. This time, I decided a not precisely specific invitation was in order if I wanted to enjoy some man to man sex on this visit. Standing, then taking a couple of steps, I paused at the opened door, my hand slowly moving to gently touch his right thigh, then as he stood still, lowering my arm to meet his cock. His hand rose to my chest, quickly finding my nipple, making me snake my hand down to my cock, already hard. His cock grew stiff quickly as I played with it, and it was clear that we both enjoyed male only bathhouse steamrooms for their particular brand of anonymous sex with willing strangers. Naked, hard and horny, we moved closer as I pulled the door closed, knowing that if anyone came in, they would see us getting off - another erotic attraction of a bathhouse, where watching and being watched is part of the pleasure of male sex. Stroking each other, we alternated our attention, tongues beginning to slide along sweaty skin, rubbing nipple to opposite nipple, hands roaming. At one point, after making him wonderfully hard, the thought of getting him off turned me on, lengthening my stroking over his pre-cum lubricated shaft. He moaned he didn't want to cum yet after I began kissing his nipple, so I shifted my attention back to his ear and neck, biting lightly as my hand held the root of his cock, teasing him, knowing he was essentially helpless in my grasp. Just like I have been so many times in the past years of men getting me off. Men definitely understand a male body, and quickly learn what that means when having sex with another talented man - extraordinary orgasms. But I understood the point of this being the very beginning of a Saturday visit, with many other men to enjoy, though when he repeated his desire not to cum in barely understandable gasps, I was surprised to see how far I had brought him to the edge. From this point, the game became a challenge - to push him as far as he could take, knowing that my hard cock was the perfect tool to measure his state, his hand clasping or loosening or growing limp. When he finally regained the upper hand, my jutting cock happily surrendering to his sliding hand, he asked whether I wanted to cum. At that point, I said no, as it was truly time to be going home, We began to prepare ourselves to leave the Turkish bath, a few last caresses, then we showered, still both half hard. Leaving, the visit had been pleasant enough, but this too was a place which did not need a return visit. Bathhouse Travel Ch. 02 My other recent bathhouse travel experience was to a male only sauna in a much larger and more international city considerably north of where we live. I had read about it on the net, and after doing a bit of something resembling research, had a grasp of changed details within a familiar setting. Like fees for private rooms - the sort of spaces freely available at the bathhouses and porn complexes I have visited required payment here. Or how Thursdays, women were allowed in. Something that became at least possible for me to experience if I spent another night away from my wife, which would be easy. I even told her about potentially extending my trip, without mentioning a precise reason. Though after reading a bit more about how those Thursdays seemed to work, which was not that attractive - a few women, at best, and far too many men. Male only sex means there can never be too many men, while couples seems the best way with men and women in a place where public sex occurs. At least for my general inclinations. Arriving a day before my planned meeting, finding the bathhouse was simple, quite convenient to my hotel using the subway. The entrance area was actually smaller than what existed at home, and it took a couple of minutes for the attendant to buzz open the door. The dressing area was fairly large, with benches to use, the lockers more than decently sized. I returned to the extensive bar area near the entrance, drinking a bottled beer, after having been asked if I wanted a glass with it or not. The rear space was filled with small tables and round cushioned chairs, a selection of reading material, and just a couple of men. All of us wearing nothing but towels. The number of new arrivals was minimal, but I knew that being near opening time in the early afternoon is often like this. I went back through the locker area, and found the saunas - one steam, the other Finnish - along with a hot tub, and an open space with three showers. Deciding to enjoy the jacuzzi first, I showered, then walked up the steps until descending into the water. The circular hot tub was empty, and quite warm - the perfect place to relax in after sitting in the train for hours. That it remained empty was a bit of a surprise, though not one I minded. It was certainly not larger than the one at the bathhouse I visit regularly, and its molded plastic construction was considerably less enticing than the tiled octagon I'm familiar with. On the plus side of the balance, it did not have an overly energetic fountaining phase. After soaking for a good quarter hour, I stood up, and went into the steambath, which was lit with a red fluorescent light against one wall. A couple of men were in the damp space, that I briefly explored. The room only had a couple of fairly small bench spaces, one facing the red light, the other on the opposite side of the shared wall, in shadow. While wandering through the unlit walled spaces, none very dark as the top of the dividers were roughly head height, a man brushed my cock, making me stop moving and draw my breath in anticipation, letting him slide his hand against my thigh, over my sack, touching my eager cock again as it grew. I reached for his cock, finding it already half hard as my fingers began to play with it. We both got hard quickly, and when his tongue found my lips, I couldn't resist meeting it as we kissed, each playing with a stranger's hardening and horny cock. Both of us knowing exactly how good what we were doing felt, overwhelming any concerns about enjoying pure male sex, especially knowing that here was a place intended exactly for men like us. When his finger found my nipple, I leaned against him, completely enthralled. Another man approached us from my left, his cock hard when my hand began to stroke it. The first man's hand began sliding over, and then delightfully between, my ass cheeks, making me moan. And then turn slightly, to give him a better position to reach my balls as his hand kept pumping my cock, pre-cum already working its familiar magic. But when the other man began to slide his uncovered cock over my skin, it was clearly time to firmly set a border of what I do freely and what I don't let any stranger do merely because they want to. It was a slight surprise how much effort it was to first simply stop what I did not desire in the least, as I had no condoms with me at this point. Whose use is a very basic rule I follow very strictly in what remains a clearly uncertain environment. Exactly the same as always riding with a helmet is a fixed rule. Finally breaking free from what turned out to be unwanted attention from both of them, not quite forceful, I left the steamroom, showering the sweat off before exploring downstairs. Much like the bathhouse I visited last year in the next, larger city to the north along the highway, the feeling was a bit different from my normal standards - pushier, essentially. Downstairs was essentially empty, having several rooms without doors along the wall facing the staircase, and two corridors running back. One side included two slings, a porn room, three open gloryholes, all dim but not truly dark. The slings were sturdy, of well worn leather hanging from solid chain. I stretched out in the first one I discovered, towel still covering my middle. The sling was very solid, different from another sling I had been sucked off at a porn shop-laid years ago, when first discovering the simple joys of male sex. This led to recalling of someone complaining on a forum about a woman's flesh somehow spoiling the manliness of 'his' sling at this bathhouse, which has admitted women since something like 2009 on Thursdays and Fridays. Reading it, the entire text seemed a bit silly, if not overtly stereotypical somehow. On the other hand, having now experienced its actual touch, though the opinion was still silly, it was at least somewhat understandable - this sling had the feeling of being made for men by men, black leather and gleaming metal. Walking further, exploring the other corridor, it was clear that something like a third of the space at this level was devoted to private spaces, those requiring payment. Blank and uninteresting, in large part because the reality of public group sex is what makes a bathhouse so irresistible to me - till now, I have never gotten off with a man in a private space at one. Admittedly, the first time I kissed a man was in a private space at a porn complex, but that experience has not really been repeated - Peter was the first man I kissed, and enjoying the experience without distraction was part of its perfection. Though the cock to cock rubbing we had done in public, watching gay porn, was part of the prelude to reaching the point where he asked if I wanted to go to a room with him. Agreeing, he led me by cock to a room with a couple of screens playing porn, and a bench against the far wall in an L shape. The space could easily have handled 8 men having sex, and being alone in it with a stranger made for a delightful encounter. Today, in this quite large and only slowly filling sauna, certain stereotypical differences between those living in a large city and those who don't appeared true - the directness and the anonymity were apparent. Along with a certain decadence, the music more driving and more men mixing in the larger space. This bathhouse could hold probably five times as many people as the one I normally visit, meaning the amount and variety of sex going on would be almost impossible to imagine. A very tempting awareness grew, now recognizing the reality of something that had always been fantasy. In its way, the bathhouse I regularly visit is discrete in a tasteful fashion, but here was a place where clearly many men went to get off, making sex essentially always available. Returning to the first corridor, going into each gloryhole booth, it became clear there was nowhere to actually put my towel or the black bag filled with various condoms. I'd read one could ask for condoms, but there was no indication that condoms were even slightly accommodated - such as nowhere to dispose of one, a not completely trivial point when being polite. A bit more of a concern was where to put my towel to keep it from getting dirty. Towels were a slight difference - the percentage of men walking around without towels was essentially the same I was accustomed to, but the larger number of men meant the opportunity to see cock became that much more common. The men with towels often seemed quite unaccustomed to nudity, which is another point entirely, and one that was not exactly a surprise - several comments from others had remarked on this northern reserve. Leaving the empty gloryhole row, I walked into a largish room, with the second swing. A man was sprawled on it, his towel covering his face. Approaching, determined to experience a sling's glories, my right hand covered his half-erect cock. Playing with cock always turns me on, something he began to help out with as his hand floated over my thigh, followed by fluid exploration of my bush, teasing my pubic hair. And really teasing my cock as I kept playing with his. I took off the towel, holding it up in my left hand, near the outer wall. The wall between the corridor and inside - for some reason I still cannot imagine - had a gap between the ceiling and wall, with the flat part of the wall having barbed wire on top of it. His hands began weaving a rhythm against my stiffening cock, one that pulled me closer. His intent did not require much thought to analyze, even if it did require a certain mindfulness - I paused briefly to get a condom from the bag, holding it my again upraised left arm. This was going as fast as any fantasy, the thrill of riding like this was something I'd fantasized about for decades. By the time my wanting cockhead was touching his smoothly inviting asshole, wanting to sink deeper without thought, I knew it was time to put on the condom. Pausing again, it took little time to slip the latex down my shaft, starting to move against him again as a very familiar smell filled the air, followed by a long sigh, turning into a stream of sexy words as the Rush spread through his body. 'Fuck me .. cock fuck hard .. ass fuck cock .. deep .. deep cock fuck,' words that melded perfectly with my own increasing interest as the fumes rose from the open bottle. This would be my first time sharing Rush with a man, getting off with a horny stranger, a scene from a fantasy I used to enjoy alone. A fantasy helped along by the sliding of a dildo into my ass, cumming after doing hit after hit of Rush, knowing how good it was to get fucked that way while looking at hardcore gay porn, almost always involving threesomes or more. He bent a bit, doing another big hit. My cock knew when its effects reached him, my cockhead pushing into a pulsing paradise. Before breathing out, he moved the towel, exhaling into my waiting face. I inhaled deeply, a trick familiar from several girlfriends in the past, already beyond any self control, my hot cock expanding into his willing body, enjoying the utter decadence of fucking a stranger, suspended perfectly for me to move against. I put my hands up to feel the chains, to see what motions were possible as I leaned against him, making the sling's pressure increase and decrease as it moved, my universe beginning to focus on the center of our connection. The Rush was already beginning to make me want to cum, pulling me on as it began to spread through my being. As he moaned, words like 'hard fuck .. hard .. fuck cock .. fuck hard' filled the air, making me respond in kind after we shared a hit. I held my breath as long as possible, but when he began to exhale, I followed, then rapidly we inhaled again, doing in effect a second hit. The sensations of music and words and primal ass fucking continued as an unstoppable wave, one that had both of us powerless against it. One which also came too soon, in its way, my orgasm overwhelming any self control. Fucking him was so good that having it continue would have been delightful, but my desire for orgasm had already started becoming reality. A desire being satisfied, my balls starting to pump hot cum, feeling it rise and flow deep inside his ass. It was an unbelievable sensation, the swing rocking as he repeated 'fuck yeah .. deeper .. fuck yeah.' At some point, the pleasure of orgasm was replaced by the pleasure of my half hard cock in his gripping ass, the condom full of my hot fluids, creating different sensations. Ones that I wanted to enjoy for as long as practical, because here I didn't care in the least if my cum leaked out while still inside someone else. Letting my hands down until they held his thighs, I kept him spread and accessible, starting a rhythm against my turned-on cock, letting the swing move along an elliptical path, its farthest point at the very flare of my glans, it closest pressing him against me, my cock deep within his smooth ass. He did another hit of Rush, and still inside him, I could feel the effects spreading through him again, as he again moaned about my cock fucking his hot hole. 'Harder .. fuck yeah .. harder' he demanded, able to at least partially meet his desire. However, it was becoming clear that I peaked far too fast, lost in the oblivion of orgasm. In a way that made me feel young, unable to balance various elements of timing, simply having my mind flooded with pure animal lust, unconcerned about anything but its own needs. A very dangerous animal, but one that I had mastered this time. As my cock finally shrank, the motion of the swing became less enjoyable. The other man was still asking to get fucked, but I had reached a kind of limit, including the amount of Rush now filling the space. Slowly, stroking his thighs, I withdrew, without any idea where to put my condom. Turning, I saw that three men had been behind me, almost as if in a line, all in towels, at least one hard, and another one with his hand clearly playing with his barely concealed cock. The sight reassured me that the man in the sling was likely to continue to enjoy his afternoon, without any lack of partners. It was a certain honor to have been his first cock of the day - it had taken me more than 3 decades to finally get off with another man as we both enjoyed the extra rush provided by poppers. Bathhouse Travel Ch. 02.5 Note - this is really more a bisexual perspective, but the site lacks that category Stories tell only a part, written or spoken. This is the story first heard by wife, now shared, of a recent bathhouse experience. And though the events occurred in a straight line, they didn't feel that way at the time, making the recounting of them become a series of discrete events. In all honesty, the lack of condoms and the use of anal sex enhancing drugs there was a real surprise, one I have no problem telling my wife, agreeing that it is crazy to act that way, without condoms. And since she also knows just how much I get off using Rush, there is a certain context, though my wife has never used it herself. My shared experience with Rush is almost exclusively heterosexual, and I particularly enjoy tit fucking with my cockhead being sucked and licked, looking at what is happening, dirty words flowing from my lips. Of course, in the past, with my first three girlfriends, straight fucking when we both took a big hit was fabulous, as was pure cock sucking - my cock feeling infinite in size as it was engulfed by her hot mouth. This was particularly enticing when matched with hot porn. Something just as true when just jacking off alone, often to gay group sex porn, often playing with my ass, loving the feeling as the Rush reached my horny hole as a lubed dildo slid deeper. Over the years, my wife has also occasionally participated in such things, being familiar with part of its effects on me, sucking me off as I watch gay porn, or her finger sliding into my ass. She does not know how I've also fucked men using Rush, including my latest trip to a big city bathhouse, taking a deep hit before sliding my covered cockhead past his smooth asshole, feeling the sling move in perfect balance, the music pulsating, living a late 70s fantasy. In that recent experience, I came far too fast in one sense, but in another, it seemed to last forever, as he did a couple of more hits. Knowing that I was assfucking a man, overwhelmed at experiencing such a fantasy, several men watching us fuck, my control was shredded. Then after orgasming, spending several incredible minutes moving my cock in and around his ass, condom full of my hot cum, his hands pulling at my ass, telling me to keep fucking, two naked sluts thoroughly enjoying themselves in a room full of the powerful scent of Rush. My wife has a very simplistic mid-80s view of how sex spreads problems, but it is not actually wrong. Trying to teach her current knowledge is not that simple, considering how reductionist she can be. So at this point, I pretty much avoid discussing the subject, though always staying well within her safer boundaries. Though it is still sex with men that have sex with other men, meaning that risks of sex with strangers are always present. Waking up this Saturday, I slowly realised that my wife was already awake. Being a bit horny, pride playing no role at this point in our relationship, I asked her to play with my nipples, having already stroked her smooth ass, lightly using my nails on her back, cock growing as she sighed. This has become a more or less weekly ritual since she began working full time again. Waiting those intervening weekdays make the sensations that much more intense, creating fantastic orgasms week after week, ones that have me completely captivated. Nipple play has me as thoroughly in grip as her toy has her, a fact she is well aware of. 'Anything happen on your trip?' she asked as my hand started playing with my now growing cock. 'Well .. that's so fucking good .. there was the woman that entered my room,' I replied. 'What?' 'She opened .. fuck that is good .. the door .. her keycard. I was just watching TV .. nothing embarrassing .. about 35 .. nice smile.' My wife then asked 'did you do anything?' 'No .. she was sexy .. long hair .. nice breasts .. just coincidence .. kind of clichéd.' Then I added, 'Besides, I'd been somewhere that afternoon.' 'Where?' The feeling from her finger allowed me to take the plunge, describing what it was like to visit a major city bathhouse. 'I had gone to a .. fuck, don't stop .. I'm such a nipple slut .. gay men do that .. it is so fucking good .. bathhouse.' 'A bathhouse?' 'A male only sauna,' I said, 'a place for men to have anonymous .. sex .. hot sex .. with other men.' 'How did you find out about it?' 'Reading .. and from the past .. they were all closed .. but .. that is so good on my nipple .. I always wanted to visit one .. like that video.' 'That I laughed at, with its crazy jacuzzi kissing?' 'The one you that made you sopping wet .. with all the men in the jacuzzi sucking and kissing and fucking.' She slowed her finger, saying, 'I remember you were hard watching them kiss.' 'Yes .. and you .. had your eyes fixed .. on the screen .. cumming .. fuck toy .. ass fucking .. you cumming.' She shifted her body, lifting a thigh, her foot sliding along the inside of my leg, purring that she did not mind watching porn, 'gay, group, straight' with her toy, 'sometimes.' 'Oh god, keep talking,' I moaned, 'make me slutty .. fuck my nipple.' Some things are only easily talked about when really turned on, a reality my wife is intimately familiar with. 'What did you do?' 'Sat in the jacuzzi .. alone .. then went .. went into . into the .. the steam bath.' 'See anything? .. tell me what you saw' she demanded in a sexy tone, noticing how I had begun to stroke my cock harder, working up the necessary arousal to let the words pour out. 'I sat .. on a bench .. the darker part .. a divider wall .. the other was red lit .. saw a man .. at the end .. another man .. walked by .. touched his thigh.' 'What did they do?' she asked, her finger now flicking against my erect nipple, filling me with pure sexual pleasure as I recounted what happened. 'Don't stop .. oh god .. so fucking .. fucking good.' 'What did they do?,' she repeated, 'tell me. Tell me as you play with your cock.' 'Oh fuck .. don't stop .. I saw .. saw them .. naked .. my age .. touch.' 'What did you do?' was her next question, before she began to kiss my neck, wet tongue sliding against my extremely sensitive skin, adding another dimension to the pleasure I was sinking into, telling her about my visit to a bathhouse. 'They played with each .. each other's cocks .. then he .. he started playing .. started touching .. nipples.' 'Were they hard like you?' 'Oh fuck yes .. nipples are so good .. he kissed the other man's nipple .. and .. and I think he made the other man .. made him cum.' 'Did you cum then?' 'No .. I left the steambath .. wandered around .. to see other things.' By now, she was manipulating my erect nipple with her fingertip, sending waves of pure sexual delight throughout my body, making it easier for me to keep talking. 'I saw .. saw .. group .. men fucking .. in a room .. big platform.' When she said 'Did they ask you to join?,' the shock made it a bit easier to speak coherently. 'No - everyone was really quiet, no words in the sauna or the room. And no condoms, which is crazy.' Explained about walking by several times - embarrassed, even here, a place that men go to to have sex, to watch people. Though each time before moving away again from the entrance, I stayed longer, absorbing what was happening, including the distinct aroma of Rush filling the air. 'So what did you see?' and by the time the last syllable left her lips, her tongue was running along my neck again. My cock felt heavy and stiff, in the best state to talk about such things, weaving past and present, sharing fantasies and memories. 'I .. fuck .. orgy .. don't stop .. oh fuck .. sucking strangers .. so hard .. don't stop.' By now, memories and words were mixing, telling my wife about stroking my hard cock while looking at a real gay orgy, men with hard cocks fucking and sucking each other. The sort of sex that was such a fantasy of mine when in my early 20s, looking at gay group sex porn, doing hits of Rush while a dildo slid into my ass, cumming so good. Her spoken words provided a bit of focus; 'Did you see any cock sucking?' 'God yes .. hard cock sucking cocks .. cocksucker .. getting rimmed.' 'Rimmed?' 'Getting his .. hot ass .. ass licked .. another man sucking .. hard cock sucking.' 'Were they fucking?' 'Oh God .. yes .. don't stop .. hot fucking .. they were .. were using .. Rush .. spread legged .. flat .. open bottle .. breathing in .. playing with cock .. watching .. so horny .. public sex .. hot fuck sex.' Her fingers were working their special magic, her words becoming a spell. 'What else happened?' she asked, pressing more of her naked skin against me, her lips touching my ear. 'Don't stop ... fuck my nipple .. nipple slut .. don't stop' were about the last semi-coherent words I remember, mixing words as the memories flashed, of Rush, of strangers fucking, and knowing how easy it would be to part of something like that - if I lived a lot closer to true big city decadence. Telling her about hot male sex had brought me over the edge, surrendering to the thrill of sharing such personal sexual secrets, revealing how a more than 3 decade old fantasy came true. The thought of that pure male group sex filled my mind, my wife rubbing my nipple in unstoppable waves, pressing her body tight, making me cum so good as reality, memory, and fantasy swirled. And so long, wave after wave, her finger flicking against my sensitive skin. Though drained, my cock remained horny, only slowly subsiding as she let her hand rest on my chest. 'A lot of those men are married' she noted, in a tone of distant disquiet, which she was quite entitled to. So many men not using condoms simply ensures the further spread of various problems, generally to those completely unaware of their partner's activities. 'I think it likely - and it is crazy that no one was using condoms - though the attraction is undeniable .. and it is not just fantasy.' At which point, our murmurings began to turn to the day's schedules, as neither my wife nor female bi-friend grasp, or have any interest in, the fundamental male attraction of unlimited sex with unlimited partners, sharing cocks and mouths and balls and nipples and tongues and hands ....