A (not very funny) Comedy of Errors

Upstate New York—September, 2019

After finding really no one at the bookstore, I drove to Rochester through blinding rain.  It was coming down so hard I would have pulled off on the shoulder—if there had been one.  The worst of the storm hit right as I entered a construction zone where there was just a single lane of traffic and nowhere else to go.  I finally made it to my hotel and checked in.

And I was horned.  I knew Rochester had a bathhouse—one which I’d never visited.  I also knew it was a Monday night.  I vacillated.  I decided with my dick.  Surely there would be a couple of people there to play with…

It is a small building, right downtown.  I go in and the cute attendant happily checks me in.  I shuck my clothes in a locker and meander.  There seems to be one man watching Entertainment Tonight in the lounge.  He barely glances at me.

I find a porn room, so I sit and watch. 

I wander some more.  Lots of little rooms.  All closed up. 

Eventually, I find a stairway.  More rooms up here.  But also a playspace.  Glory holes.  Porn.   A sling.  I sit and view the porn.  An older gentleman, wrapped in a towel, finds me.  Stroking.  He gives me some excellent head.  He says he would like to get fucked in the sling.  He drops his towel.  I am willing to over look his pink lace panties for a fuck.  I help him into the sling.  I mention clean out.  He assures me he has…and at that moment all the excess water he left inside himself flows out and across his towel.  He is mortified and, not surprisingly, I never see him again.

I wait thirty minutes.

A man who looks like a truck driver appears.  He sits next to me and strokes to the porn along with me.

“That’s quite a cock,” he says.  “Can I suck it?”

“Sure.”

He unwraps a condom and tries to roll it down me.  He has it the wrong way around.  He goes to find another.  He does the same thing.  Then a third…It goes on and it is so tight…

He sucks me.  But honestly I can feel nothing. 

He stops.  He won’t let me do him….even with a condom on.

We go to the steam room.  We chat about my trip—and where I am going.  (To a theatre festival and then on into Toronto for Fukdto.)

Then apropos of nothing he says:  “If you are waiting for me to suck you again, that isn’t going to happen.”

We chat a little more before I beat a retreat and stroke one off in my motel room.