Another Hour to Fuck

Grand Rapids--November, 2011

It had been a busy week--the Halloween bookstore fuck, the motel five-way, the surprise visit by Dean. I had spoken with a fuck bud I had not seen in several years, though we’d talked a lot online. He wanted to get seeded on Saturday night. He suggested we meet up where we had initially met, at the bathhouse in Grand Rapids. It had been awhile since he’d been fucked, so he wanted to get some cock in his hole before he took me on. Anyone who’s been reading any of these entries, know how much I despise sloppy thirds. Yeah, right. It sounded like a great plan. “And we turn the clocks back tonight, I reminded him. We have another hour to fuck.”　

I arrive on time. It’s been almost a year since I’ve been here. The bathhouse is definitely showing it’s age. It’s had some new paint on the walls, covering the worst of the 1970’s color scheme. I walk down the carpet that needs a good shampooing. That’s right. It was here that I got into the habit of leaving my boots on for sex in the tubs. I have a quick flash of memory--this was my first bathhouse, my first sling, my first group bigger than a three-way. Downstairs is a TV lounge, a series of small rooms, showers, sauna and restrooms. Larger rooms are down another corridor. Upstairs is where the action happens--at least for me--the sling, more porn, a series of couches and mattresses for public play and a glory hole area.

I strip down in my room. I add the usual jock, wristband and get those boots back on. Harry is here. He’s late 30’s or early 40’s. A shaved head, decently muscled and with more tattoos than anyone I know this side of Chris Neal. His ink is not all related, but it seems to be by the same artist, so it really works for him and as a whole.

“No one is here!” He is not pleased. There are a few guys around, but nothing like the crowd we were used to when we met. We go up the stairs but we are met by a good looking young man coming down. I continue up, but Harry does a u-turn and follows the meat. I look around at all the play areas. No one is doing anything. Two men are half heartedly jerking to the porn on the TV upstairs. I sit on one of the couches, making sure the towel I’ve draped on my shoulder comes down for me to sit on. Neither seem to even register that I’m there. I wait around, knead my cock thru the jock, and eventually head downstairs. I check into the lounge. Eventually I’m joined by Harry on the couch there.

“I just got fucked by that straight guy.”

“The one…” My hand makes a vague gesture toward the stairs.

“Yeah. He opened me up. But no cum.”

He begins playing with my cock. A bell must have gone off somewhere announcing someone was having public sex. An older man that Harry knows comes over and sticks his cock in Harry’s mouth. Another guy who’d been lounging get up and jerks. He eventually offers me his dick to suck. I lean forward. He just gets it into my mouth before he shoots. He smiles wanly and leaves for the night. The older man is now feeling up Harry’s hole. He slides his cock in and fucks Harry a few strokes, holding his legs high in the air.

“Let’s go to my room.”

The three of us troop off to Harry’s double bed. The man barely waits until I get the door closed before he bends Harry over the bed and is plowing him in earnest. I hold on to Harry, kneeling on the bed. He tries to suck me, but he is only thinking of his hole. Soon I’m on my back. The man pulls out, Harry moves to sit on my face. He knows just what I like. His hole tastes great after the two cocks. He moves down so he can sit on me. To his surprise, he sinks to the hilt.

“Shit. I’m looser than I thought.” I start to fuck. “Let’s go up to the sling.” So I stop after three thrusts.

And we head upstairs. Once securely in place, the older man slips his sizable cock back into Harry. He fucks. I clean his cock and lick Harry‘s hole. I fuck. We attract a crowd. I’m finally getting a chance to have sex. Harry calls a break.

He heads off. I get some poor head from one of the onlookers. It hurts. I stop him.

I watch porn. Harry returns. “I need to get out of here.” We’ve been there an hour and a half of our potential 13 hours. The “straight” guy is fucking someone I can’t see on one of the mattresses. I suggest we fuck next to them, thinking there might be some trade off. I get him on all fours, right next to the other couple. The top looks pleased. The bottom looks panicked. We fuck. Harry wants to ride me again. As I lay down, the bottom whispers something in the straight top‘s ear. They leave. Harry slides on my cock. He is loose now. So loose I can barely feel his ass. But he shoots a nice puddle of cum on my chest. He’s gone in less than two hours. Food winning over sex.

In the next 11 hours:

I give some fun head. The guy wants to be fucked. I take him to the sling. I go to rim---I can’t even get near his ass. I quietly suggest a shower and a cleanout. And never see him again.

I get some head from another. Fine, nothing earth shattering. He stops after 2 minutes, complaining I haven’t cum yet.

I sit in the sauna.

I look into a room. A tall thin guy beckons me in. We exchange blowjobs. He’s as long as I am, and can cut off my air when I deep throat him. He can just choke me down. He is insistent he is going to fuck me. I deflect him by eating his ass. He will not leave my hole alone with his bony fingers. I finally have to leave his room.

I know I should go home. But I don’t want to make the drive.

I watch porn. Stroking.

I watch porn. Not stroking.

I see a couple in the sling. I’m instantly hard. The top waves me to come on over. I get close enough for the bottom to grab my cock, wrench it out of my hand and pull it so forcefully towards his mouth I grunt in pain. And leave.

I find a man who’s idea of head is to get his teeth behind the helmet head of my cock, and pull it out of his mouth, his teeth raking my cock.

I go to my room and sleep.

I wake, groggily make it to the sauna and lie down on one of the benches.

A large man watches me and opens his towel as he stares at my bulge. I wait. Closing my eyes. And wait. Shit, he’s going to leave…No. A tentative hand on my thigh. I grunt. He opens the jock. My blueballed cock springs up. He runs his tongue over it. Nice. He sucks it, leaning over the bench. He’s great--even in that awkward position. I am pretty sure I can give him a load.

And he stops. Thanks me. And is out the door before I can sit up enough to say something.
Yup, it was one of those nights. The only bathhouse I know with a twelve hour limit. And tonight an extra hour to fuck-----no one….