Monday, June 20, 2016

Bent Over at the Baths

St. Louis—February, 2016

The bookstore scene from the previous post was my last play for three weeks or more.  My life was all about Dad in the hospital, and then dealing with his death and the funeral.  I only mention all this again for I was aching for good anonymous sex when my job took me to St. Louis during the third week of February.  I went to the bathhouse—I didn’t want someone coming to my hotel room.

There were big changes there.  The last time I was in the place, there was a public sling, a public mattress and two booths with a glory hole between them tucked in a back corner.  They were all still there, but now the gleaming gym had been ripped out.  In its place was a wooden slurp ramp with several public gloryholes.  In front of that were a series of cubicles with countless gloryholes so you had access to the booth next to you in any direction.  The last new additions were a couple of  padded platforms where you could sit as you stroked to three big screen televisions—all showing different (and raw) porn.

My cock was aching for release, the moment I stripped and locked my locker.  I was in a fairly new jock sent to me by a reader.  (I was to get as much precum and ass juice on it as possible.) I tied my boots and tossed my towel over my shoulder.  It was a Thursday night.  And the place was much busier than last year—men must be liking the improvements…


I stroke on the new padded platform.  I suck a random daddy who stands next to me.  I’m hard.  So hard my cock ring feels smaller.  I tour the new area.  No one on the slurp ramp, but a cute college kid is in the hallway by the new cubicles.  He fumbles with his towel as I pass, tightening it around his waist.  He is close to 6 feet tall and nicely built.  His dark blond hair is damp from his shower.  A dense patch of curly hair covers most of his chest, too.  And he’s drunk. 

I sigh and continue my tour around into the older sling room.  But there is no one waiting in it.  I circle back.  The college kid has lost his towel.  He bends, showing me a glorious full butt, covered with the same dark blond curls.  I kneel and shove my tongue into his ass.  He grunts his appreciation and grabs for the wall to support himself.

“Eat me out,” he grunts.

I look up at him.  He has no idea who is rimming him.  My cock is out and I’m stroking as I tongue fuck his hole.  Finally, he looks around and sees who is in him.  He doesn’t pull away.  He grinds back on me.

“Eat me, Daddy.  Fuckin’ breed me with that big dick of yours.”

I just thrust my tongue deeper into him.  He groans.  Loudly.  Guys hearing us, fill our hallway to watch us.  Two stroke.  One tries to crawl under the bent over college kid to suck his dick.  My boy doesn’t want that.  He stands up and I think we’re done.

“Suck my dick,” I command.  “Get it wet for your ass.”

That keeps him there.  He gets shakily to his knees and gives me head.  It’s nothing special, but it doesn’t matter.  The watchers have swollen to a good dozen.  Most are stroking themselves or tweaking the nipple of the man next to them.  The would-be cock sucker, who nearly ended the scene, finds a dick to suck.

“Spit on it,” I tell my boy.  He does.  I pull him up by the forearms.  “Bend.”  He does—supporting himself on the wall.  “You want this dick in you?  You want it raw?”

“Fuck, yeah.  Knock me up.”

I roughly push into him.  He’s tight.  He grunts—and so do I.  But he sucks me into his guts.  I hold. 
The crowd surges forward.  “Fuck that fag boy,” someone tells me from behind my back. 

The boy may be no cock sucker, but his ass is heaven.  And he knows how to use it.  Even drunk.  He is milking my dick like crazy.  I am working up to speed—plowing into him.

“Give me your load,” he grunts out as he grinds back on me.  My hips are slamming into him.

“Jeez,” says a man in the crowd.  “Breed that boy for us.”

I slam home.  And my bottom boy starts shooting all over the floor.  His ass contracts with each spasm.  I don’t want to cum so fast…but I am shooting up him.  My face contorts and I grimace with each sweet spasm.

The boy slips off me and sinks to a pile on the floor, smearing his cum across his chest in the process.  My dick is dripping jizz for all to see.  I close my eyes and lean against the wall trying to breathe. 

When I open them—there is no one there.  No crowd and no boy.  I look down.  My cock is dripping—and I know I didn’t imagine it.


More to come…

2 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. I would love to do that guy again when he was sober...that is, if he can have hot man sex without alcohol...

      Delete