History: Keeping the Bathhouses Busy

Keeping the Bathhouses Busy

Finishing up the 1990's.

It has been a bit since I’ve turned to writing up my sexual history, but I did want all those pieces about Zane to be published back-to-back.  So here we go...

 

Sex in the 1990’s for me was pretty much either oral sex with my partner, Rob, or condomed fucking at the bathhouse.  With the jury out of whether oral sex was safe or not, I perfected my fuck skills, always covered in latex.  I hadn’t found bookstores yet.  I hated bars.  Bathhouses were perfect—men ass up and ready, with only the occasional protest of someone wanting to be fucked bare.

The Midwest was blessed with a number of bathhouses.  I loved Man’s Country in Chicago—and went when I could.  I kept the Diplomat in Grand Rapids busy most weekends when Rob was working out of state—which was a lot. 

Probably the next bathhouse I visited was the Unicorn Club in Chicago.  It is now Steamworks.  I remember a steep staircase down to the wet area…and a neon unicorn on the wall.  I liked it and had fun.  But I loved the sleaze factor of Man’s Country’s older building and set up.  The Unicorn was trying hard to be a gym with extras.  MC was there for just one purpose.

I had to travel for work.  There was a massive audition in St. Louis I went to each year for hiring.  I pulled out my Damron Address Book.  Well, well…Club St. Louis was within walking distance from my hotel.  I walked over, late night.  It was clean and bright and at the time almost all the play was in the rented rooms.  I walked the circuit and found plenty of men to fuck.  But I also found a room tucked away just off the hall that was a semi dark room.  It had platforms for men to lie on that so the tops could stand and plow ass.  I used that room a lot.  One night I had two men who were making out with each other—and both asses were available.  I fucked one and started to change the condom.  “You don’t have to, just go back and forth,” the slightly older one told me.   I gasped—but did what he asked.  They moaned and held each other as I fucked the second man and then began a back and forth…

The Club in St. Louis now has a major play area—designed sometime in the 2000’s.  It is great fun.  I went yearly for 30 years. I need to get back.

Indianapolis was only a few hours away.  There were two bathhouses there.  I started with The Works.  In the 1990’s, they had a great wet area, and rooms.  I am sure there was a porn viewing area, too.  I made the circuit of the rooms with open doors—and always found men to fuck.  And with the extended rental hours—I could actually sleep there when I was spent—and do another fuck in the morning.

The recent new owners have invested in creating wonderful play areas there.

The Club in Indy was, well, fine.  Just like Unicorn/Steamworks vs Man’s Country, the generic bathhouse of the Club wasn’t as much fun as the Works for me. 

Flex in Cleveland was huge.  It was the bus station in the 1930’s.  I loved playing there.  I found it right at the end of this decade.  The only downside for me was that it was so large inside, that you could have a ton of men there—and it would feel like a small crowd.  With all the space, there were always play areas beyond the private rooms.

By the middle 1990’s, Rob and I were approaching 20 years together.  We were still good friends. Working apart, for over half the year, helped that.  We still had so many interests in common, but he was becoming fairly ambivalent about sex.  Not just with me, but with anyone.  I had matured enough, that I was no longer the blond 20-year-old with a big dick he had obsessed over.  I know he tried to suck off some of the young, hot company members—but he wasn’t successful very often, as they all knew we were partnered and I was their boss.  Once, I did walk into a rehearsal with him regaling the company with the facts of just how big my cock actually was as my 501’s didn’t hide much—and everyone wanted to know…  (Imagine that happening in today’s world!)

We still had sex.  Though I almost always had to initiate it.  He had found Nintendo and spent far too much time with it—often late into the early hours of the morning.

But there was a bigger problem.  Rob had always been a drinker.  He was fun and the life of the gathering in college and then those early years with other drinking actors. Now, it was becoming a constant habit.  He tried to hide it from me but I could hear the beer being cracked open while he was in the shower just before noon.

We stayed together.  The time apart worked for us.

And things were about to change on the sexual front. 

In 200l, science told us that the likelihood of catching HIV through oral sex was miniscule.

I read it.  And again.  I couldn’t wait for the next weekend…