History: Finding the Michigan Bathhouse
Early 1990’s.
I knew I needed to find a Michigan bathhouse. I had heard that the one in Detroit, the one
my brother had taken me to in 1977, had closed almost immediately after HIV hit
the gay community. I don’t know when it
closed, but it is not listed in my 1991 Damron’s Guide.
What was listed was the Diplomat. It was (and is) in Grand Rapids. That meant it was actually closer to me,
living on the west side of the state, than anything would have been in Detroit. I was currently living alone for a couple of
months, as Rob had a job in another state.
I decided to go up on a Saturday night.
It was actually quite easy to find and the there was
good neighborhood street parking. I know
now that it had opened in 1980. My fuck
bud Jake has mentioned it was a local dairy.
I was told by the 1990’s manager that vacuum cleaners were repaired and
sold there. Maybe both are true. By the time I walked in for the first time, it
was fairly dreary after a dozen years of operation. There was a smoking area with porn on the television
in a lounge downstairs. There was a
hallway of single rooms past that.
Around a bend was the locker room and larger rooms to rent. Showers and the sauna were also downstairs,
off the single room hallway. And a
staircase that went up to what looked like a black hole. A box hung on the wall at the base of the
stairs with free condoms.
I got a single room.
I remember it being very cheap—and it was good for 12 hours! I found my room and stripped. I had already figured out that a jock could become
my utility belt. I could have a small
bottle of lube, Magnums and, back then, a bottle of poppers all stuffed in the
waistband. Jake remembers meeting me in
boots—but I didn’t wear them in a bathhouse this early. (That happened later in the decade after
almost stepping on a used syringe left in the carpeted hallways of Man’s
Country. The boots, once added, and jock
instantly became my play uniform—with the towel over my shoulder, showing off
my well stuffed jock.) But that first night,
I am sure I had that towel tightly wrapped around my thin middle. After all, that’s what all the other men were
doing…
I went into the lounge. One man was stroking to the porn. A few others were smoking and chatting. I sat for a while. The men were friendly and said hello, but it
was obvious that these guys had known each other for a long time. Eventually, I made the rounds to see if there
were any open doors. There was one, with
a guy on all fours, but I was not ready to go in and fuck. I wanted to see what was upstairs.
First, I went into the sauna—which was right at the
bottom of the staircase. I sat alone,
enjoying the heat. But I could hear
people on the staircase as they went up or down. Finally, I stood up, went out and started up
the stairs. It was dark. There was a room right at the top. It held a barber’s chair and a sofa that had
seen better days. At the back of this landing,
there were rooms to the right and left.
I went to the right. It was the
orgy room with nothing but a stained mattress tossed on the floor. There were easily six to eight men dogpiled
on it. The action was mostly oral at
that moment, but for one bear of a man fucking a skinny college kid. I was both petrified and totally aroused. My cock tried to get hard under the fabric of
the jock. I saw used condoms on the
floor—but the guy currently fucking was doing it raw. That made me panic just a little.
I moved slowly away and went into the other alcove off
the main room. Another mattress—and a
man was sleeping on it. But this side was
larger—and there was a sling in the opposite corner. I stepped closer. The sling was occupied. A young man with a beautifully rounded ass. I came even closer.
“Fuck me,” the guy mumbled. “Need a condom?”
“I have my Magnums.”
“Fuck, yes, a big boy. Get that thing on…”
This was just what I needed. I lubed up, rolled it on and sank into his
wet hole. The guy was really very good
looking, right around my age (mid-30’s) and knew how to take dick. He treated me to a great fuck—both of us
using everything in our skill sets.
“I would love you to shoot on my stomach,” he panted
as he saw I was getting close. Soon
enough, I pulled out, ripped off the condom and covered him. He swiped a finger through my cum and tasted
it when he thought I wasn’t looking.
We talked a little.
I found out he was often here—and was the boyfriend of the manager. Both of them became good friends and regular fuck
buds.
I went down to my room. I slept and awoke around 3 am. I went upstairs and found a new man in the
sling. He didn’t care about condoms, but
I used mine. I fucked him hard and ripped
off the latex to cover his cock and balls with my load.
I slept and woke up just as my twelve-hour session was
ending. I went out for breakfast feeling
ravenous…
*
After my first trip there, I was going at least once a
month, often every weekend. Guys
respected my limits and put up with the latex to get my cock. Beyond Jake and the young man already
mentioned, I made a number of good fuck bud/friends there. We’d fuck until the wee hours, sleep and go
out to eat together. There were always
new men—and there was a seminary close by and those clean-cut young men were pigs
on that mattress.
I met Jake, my fisting bud, fairly early after my
becoming a regular. Fisting was another
great way for me to have intense sex and stay safe. I added latex gloves to the list of things in
my jock’s waistband. Jake was there often. He loved the fuck I would give him, but he
lived for my hand. I watched other men
use him and began to understand that I had some natural technique that other
men just didn’t possess when they used their hands on an ass. I can’t begin to compute how much sex Jake and
I must have had in those years—as he was there almost as much as I was.
I mostly used the sling, but I also was now very
comfortable going in and fucking a guy on all fours who’d left his door ajar. I really had my pick of the guys.
I was pretty much all about ass up at the Diplomat. In the early 90’s the jury was out about how
safe oral sex was, or even if it was. I
saved my mouth for my partner. I was really proud of the fact I could tell Rob
that I had played safely all the time he was gone. I just didn’t tell him how often I actually
went…
*
