A Night at the Baths

Indianapolis--November, 2011

I had made it home from Chicago very late on Saturday night, showered the piss off me and slept fitfully, dreaming about packing the car for the trip to Nashville. Now it was packed: clothes, a book for every other day, and more movies (made before 1960) than I could possibly watch. Oh, yeah, and the stuff for work. I hit the road late in the day, deliberately after dinner. I was just going as far as Indianapolis, though I wondered if going to a bathhouse was wise on a Sunday night…
　
I am sitting in the steam room. There is no one anywhere. Maybe they are locked behind “dressing room” doors. Enough cars in the lot--so where are they?

I sit totally naked on the top shelf, my shoulders against the sweaty wall. My hand is absently kneading my crotch. Slowly men start filtering in. They look. They leave. This crowd seems to be the type that will only linger if sex is already happening. A young Hispanic, with the remnants of a faux hawk and carrying a little too much weight comes in. He stops and stares. He removes my hand and fists my cock. I erect. He sucks it, but only for a moment, before he is clambering up to my level. He rips open a condom package and snaps the tightest, most restrictive latex skin on me that I’ve ever worn. He gushes lube on it and sits. Instantly the place seems packed to watch him ride my cock. He is moaning like it’s splitting him in two. I don’t bother to tell him my cock has softened dramatically with the condom squeezing the life out of me. Finally, he gets too enthusiastic and bounces higher than he should and I fall out of his ass. I look at a shitty condom and head to the showers.

I have soaped and rinsed and am sitting back in the steam room. The crowd is gone. A few stragglers stroke or feel a neighbors cock through his towel. I sit on the bottom shelf. A beautiful young man comes in, clutching his towel tightly. Dark hair and eyes and the sexiest full eyebrows. There is a major tattoo across this shoulder blades of a tribal design. Our eyes lock. He comes to me and kneels. I have no towel, so my cock is out and showing off for him. He worships it, delicately, but with expert care. I pull him up and make him sit next to me. His towel opens. This gorgeous man has the smallest cock I’ve seen on an adult man. It’s my turn to slip to the floor and take him into my mouth. He looks at me in wonder. I eventually leave his cock and slip my tongue down his balls and then pulling him toward me and pushing him back, across his hole. He sighs. His hand flies to his dick. I have him. My tongue enters his hot, grasping hole.

“Fuck me.” I nod. “But not here.”

We are now in my room. He is on all fours on the cramped single bed. I’m on the floor. I can’t stop rimming him. He moans and reaches behind to stroke my shaved head. My tongue occasionally leaves his ass to twist and wet the ample fur on his butt. His crack is thick with slightly coarser hair. Finally I stand up. My lubed, bare cock slips in. Easily and to the hilt. But he’s not loose. Far from it. He just wants it. We fuck for a good ten minutes. Slow, long strokes. Then change up to a hard fast drive. He stops touching himself for fear he’ll shoot.

I flip him over onto his back. I eat his hole--reveling in how I have stretched him, and the delicious lube he has produced. My cock slips in. And he cums without warning. He spews everywhere. I stop fucking and bend to lick up every drop. We kiss. He accepts his cum on my tongue. He leaves with no other words spoken.

I leave the door open. Almost instantly I’m cruised by a husky, hairy, bald man with a prominent tattoo of a stylized heart over his heart. If I put him in overalls, he would look like the cable guy of your fantasies, who, on all fours, would be fussing with the connection at your house. He came in at my invitation and fell right to work sucking my cock. He didn’t seem to mind the boy’s sweet ass juice on it at all. Soon, he is sitting on my face, continuing to suck my cock as I eat his hairy ass. He’s been fucked tonight. He’s loose and ready. But I can’t taste any cum. He hands me the strangler condom provided by the management. I pull my bag over with my right hand and dig out a Magnum. He greases me, and expertly rolls it down on me. He sits. His ass is great--even with the latex. He rides with the assurance of getting fucked for the last twenty years. I see the wedding ring. I realize I have fucked him on other visits. He has an arrangement with his wife to come once a week to the bathhouse to get as much cock up his ass as he can. I look up at him--and he shoots all over me. I must have been his last cock before heading home…

I fuck another Latin boy in the steam room, with the ubiquitous latex. A much cuter Hispanic boy watches us and jerks, sweat caught by a massive amount of chest hair.

I wander into the dark sling room. There is a horde of bodies. Standing and kneeling. Barely discernable in the dim light. Countless hands feel me up and stroke me. A few dip and lick the head of my cock. Eventually a truly eager mouth finds me. I stroke his head. He’s good and I like the attention, pressed against the other men having furtive sex. My sucker stands. He’s a foot shorter than me. I tweak his nipples…and feel the chest hair. I’m almost sure it’s the Hispanic voyeur boy. He’s greasing my cock. He bends, reaches behind him and inserts it raw up his hole. I fuck. He moans. The sucking around us stops. There are hands on my ass. On my back and neck. An annoying one trying to go up my ass. There are hands stroking the boy’s shoulders and back and reaching below him. It’s so dark, I can’t even tell if he’s sucking someone while I fuck--but I don’t think so, since he’s so noisy. I am sure some one cums on the boy’s back. I fuck with strokes that smack against his ass and reverberate in the small space. He cums. I can feel his ass contract. I think I’m about to load him, but the moment is stolen from me by the hand, back on my hole--insistent I want his finger up me as I fuck.

The crowd disperses. I follow the boy to the shower. I’m right. We smile. I rinse and go to bed, twisting in my ear plugs.

I know I fuck someone raw in the early hours of the dawn. I’d jotted myself a note of “3 and 3.” But I can remember absolutely nothing about it--ah, the life of a whore….