A Visit to the Bathhouse

St. Louis---February, 2014

It was time for my annual business trip to St. Louis. I would have four nights to play after my long days of work.  I have always had good luck in this city.  I find the men ready to play and eager to meet new meat.  But on a Thursday night, no one was venturing out in the harsh February weather to come to my downtown hotel.  So I went to baths.

 

It was a long, cold walk.  I stripped out of my clothes, stowed them in the locker and went into the steam room to warm up.  It was early.  Not much crowd, but the gym boys were finishing up.  I sat in the remotest corner, wanting to get warm, not really ready to play.  But a big burly guy, taking his shower after his work out, had seen me go in and followed me into the swirling mist.  He stood in the steamy shadows and stroked himself obscenely, his towel over his shoulder.  He barely got his cock into my mouth before he exploded.  I guess he needed to get home to his partner’s waiting dinner…

I am in the play room of the bathhouse.  A sling is in an enclosed area, but not in use.  At least, not yet.  There are two booths with a gloryhole between.  There has been a change since my last visit.  The slurp ramp has been ripped out—and a large mattress on a platform has taken its place.  I am standing right behind it, in front of the booths, getting enthusiastic, if not superlative, head from a husky man on his knees.  His mouth is wet and sloppy.  And I’m enjoying showing off to the random men who check out the space.  A man of my age enters.  His head is cropped close, he’s been to the gym, and, like me is strutting around the bathhouse in a jock with the towel on his shoulder.  He has a chain around his neck—it’s gold and made up of incredibly tiny links.  He pulls his cock out of the pouch of his jock and offers it to the cocksucker, while at the same time pulling me into a kiss.  He’s great.  Everything I like in a kiss—a good back and forth, lots of spit and a slight battle for dominance...

The cocksucker is in heaven for the new comer’s cock is the equal of mine or damn close to it.  He goes back and forth on them and then gags as he tries to take both in his mouth at once.

“You want to get fucked?” the new guy asks the man on the floor.  “He has a nice ass,” he tells me.  The sucker gets up hurriedly and goes around the corner to the sling.  My kisser pulls me around by the shoulders and looks me square in the face.  “You fuck with that thing?”

My eyes meet his gaze.  Then drop as I mutter, “Yeah.  I do.”

“Follow me.”

He disappears into the sling room and is up the bottom before I can get there.  He fucks the man hard, then offers me a turn.  I slip in. I pump deeply twice.   And pull right out.  I sigh.  We all troop off to the bathroom to wash.

*****

My face is buried in a glorious ass.  He’s a young man.  Blond and trim and now sprawled on his narrow bed.  His ass is a true bubble.  I pull his cheeks even farther apart and stick my tongue deeper into him.

“Oh, Daddy.”

My cock drools as he calls me that with his slight Ozark drawl.  He’s visiting the city from Arkansas.  And I’m the man, out of all the others, he’s taken back to his room. 

He adjusts—his knees were almost off the tiny bed.  I spend what feels like hours slurping and spitting into his hole as he reaches back and under himself to stroke.   Finally, I suit up (yes, I’ve agreed to wear a condom—so you know he’s cute).  I push into him. 

“Damn,” he grunts.

“You okay?”

“Oh, yes.  Fuck me hard, Daddy.  FUCK me!”

I do—until he shoots all over the thin sheet under him.

He lies inert as I pull out and rip off the condom.  Than he swivels around and kisses me—a kiss that tells me exactly how much he loved our time together.

*****

I’m up another ass.  A leatherish guy.  He’s all armbands and cock rings and leather straps showing off his pecs.  But I can’t see them now.  I have him bent over the new bed in the playroom. 

“Fuck me, man.”

A professorial type is sitting on the bed, watching us and stroking.  I fuck the leather guy fast and loud.  I fuck until the spectator gets off and leaves.  The leather guy pulls off me and follows the spectator out of the room.  I never see him again.

*****

I’m sitting on the floor of the booth.  I have just taken a second load down my throat.  I have no idea who gave it to me.  We’d been trading blowjobs.  Until he began bucking into the wall and I swallowed him down.

The door of the other booth squeaks open.  I don’t look up, but I can sense the guy looking through the hole.  I expect the finger to caress the opening any moment now, signaling he wants to suck my throbbing cock.  It’s aching for release after all the action.  I finally look up.  It’s not a mouth on the other side of the hole.  He’s pressed his ass against the wall.  He’s arranged it so his hole is perfectly centered.  I stand up and plunge in.

He’s loaded in no time at all.

*****

It had to happen.  In all my years I’ve never seen anyone from the conference at the baths.  Well, this year during our first group lunch at the conference, I got a plate of food and sat at a table by myself.

“Mind if I join you?”  He sat before I could respond.  We introduced ourselves—and all I could see was the gold chain with the tiny links.

Others joined us.  There was no smirking.  No secret winks.  Neither of us let on we’d seen the other the night before—much less shared a husky bottom. 

If he even remembered me…