Ali Baba Baths 13
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com
I was shy when I first attended the Ali Baba Baths. I was new to New York City and independent for the first time in my life. My quiet life in rural Vermont was gone and I was in the greatest and largest city in the nation. The school was the only aspect of my life that was similar to my life in Vermont. My father taught, and in many ways, teaching was natural to me.
This was good. While I am not an aggressive man, I did have a clear understanding of what was required and expected. In some ways, the school demanded more than their meager salary justified, but that wasn't a problem for me. I had always been a good student and always excelled. That they paid me to do this was good enough for me.
The school gave me a good increase in pay after the first year. This combined with my modest inheritance allowed me to live well. I am not an extravagant person, and while I wasn't as frugal as my father was, I certainly wasn't squandering my money on luxuries.
Roscoe said sin is its own reward. It was a joke, but I came to realize sex was its own reward. My father's view of life involved working hard to achieve his goals. I fully subscribed to his theory. He had no interest in instant gratification. Indeed, wasting time on frivolous entertainments or unworthy pursuits was a sin in his view.
He was also much opposed to associating with wastrels and good time Johnnies. Frankly, I'm not sure he actually ever met a wastrel. He didn't move in those circles. Fortunately, my father was also a kind and generous man. He made exceptions and allowances and these softened the edges of his austere approach to life. He also admired the beauty of the written word and great thinkers. Plato, Cicero, Ovid, Shakespeare and Milton were his companions. The companionship was intellectual, and not physical, but it was companionship.
After I became accustomed to my work and life in New York, I began to think about my friends and companions. I got along with all of my fellow teachers, but did not become particularly close to any. The older teachers rarely associated with the younger men. The school catered to upper class boys and many of the teachers came from those ranks. Alden told me several were teaching until they inherited their father's fortunes. They wanted a respectable job until the funeral.
My friends from the baths were entirely different. At first, I thought only a few were interested in sex. The rest were there to get clean, relax and meet friends. As I came to know the men better, I understood sex was a more important part of the bath's allure. Eventually I realized everyone was there for the sex, including me.
Some men were more reserved, but even they just needed he right man to pull the trigger. While some liked to watch, Omar made sure everyone made a contribution to the general welfare. A few were almost exclusively watchers, but they had to be particularly nice men to do that. Omar had a small charity that helped the less prosperous of the Bath's patrons. Several older men had fallen on hard times, usually because of illness or infirmity. They always had a place to go at the Baths.
Roscoe was another sort of charity case. He wasn't particularly well equipped to deal with the modern world. He was most partial to sexual experiences and was more than willing to undertake explorations of men's sexual potential. He took odd jobs, but Omar helped him when he was short on cash at the end of the month.
My father would not have approved of the Baths. I doubt he could even conceive of the sexual activity. He would also have found relationships based purely on sex demeaning. When I joined the baths, it seemed there was a potential for men to use others only for their pleasure. I assumed a purely sexual relationship necessarily would be superficial.
As I came to know the men better, I discovered this was not a problem. I discovered knowing someone sexually can be a prelude to a friendship. Eventually I knew almost everyone at the baths and had either played with them or watched them playing with others. No one is more naked than when he is sexually excited. You can't hide anything; you can't put on airs or pretend you are only casually interested.
After a while, I came to know most of the personal preferences of the men, and they knew my interests. I liked to do it all. I may have been more sexually active than some of the men. I had a reputation as a good sport. In the baths, that was a compliment. When you met a new man, someone might whisper, "He loves to suck," or "He had a tight ass." That would give to a clue as to the man's preferences. I was uneasy when I first visited the baths. I could sense the sexual potential, but didn't know if it would develop. I suspected there were rules and I didn't know what they were. Several men helped me get accustomed to the place.
I am a teacher and I seem to slip into that role at any opportunity. Karl liked to play that role too. No one was shyer than he was, and he wanted to make it easier for new men to enjoy the newfound freedom of the baths. There were some men who like popping virgins, but that wasn't my objective. I remembered a man told me like liked to be the first, and asked me if I would mind. It was good and fun, but I didn't care if my cock was the first to enter a tight, virgin ass.
I do have one weakness. I do get excited when my ass accommodates another man's cock for the first time. I like to watch him react as his cock slips in my ass and he feels the excitement and thrill for the first time. They are unsure and it pleases me when they feel the warmth and tightness of my ass. You might think that this is most exciting when I am with a young man, but the greater thrill is with a mature man.
There are a surprising number or older virgins. I have played with several men in their forties and fifties who have never slipped into an ass. Most are shocked, pleasantly shocked. I also have discovered some married men who have never tried a manhole. Not only is the tight hole of a man good, several men have never had sex when their partner has enjoyed as much as they did. Some beliefs in our culture make it difficult for a woman to enjoy sexual coupling.
I met a middle-aged banker, Carlton, who wanted to pay me for my sexual services. I discovered he had assumed pleasure was feigned only because of the monetary reward. He was shocked when I told him it was indeed a pleasure for me and needed no reward.
When I talked with Carlton, he told me he knew he was an ugly man, and no one would have sex with him without pay. Carlton wasn't the type of dashing man about town one sees in the stylish magazines, but he wasn't ugly. He was built like a brick, but a substantial, well-made brick. He was quite muscular, and moderately hairy, but his chest, gut and hips were all the same width. He had a thick, black beard. It hid the only odd aspect of his body. Carlton appeared to have no neck.
As a banker and financier, Carlton was decisive and commanding. As a man, he was unsure of himself. We talked for a long while and eventually I sat on his cock. Carlton's cock was a thick solid tube and I wasn't sure I would enjoy it. After trying to cheer the man up, I was afraid it would be a letdown. His cock was graceless with the head the same size as the shaft. It also rammed my prostate head on and sent me to the moon.
I was taken back by my reaction. It was like an electric shock, if the shock was sexual. I quivered on the pole and could barely breathe. It was wonderful. Carlton looked happy too. After catching my breath a little, I bounced on it and then I squeezed my ass around his love pole. He moaned and then he began to shiver and shake. The organ began to twitch and I could feel his manly juices squirting into my ass. I gripped his cock tighter and he joined me on the moon. Eventually we broke apart and calmed down.
Later that night he came over to me again and asked if we could do it again. Of course, I said yes. This time he fucked me doggy style. That gave him more control. The sensations were very different, but just as effective. I spread my legs wide to give him easy access. It also gave his cock easy access to my prostate. By this time, my virgin days were well behind me and I hadn't expected the intensity of the emotions or sensations. Carlton was not socially skilled, but he told me he had never enjoyed himself so much.
Carlton became a different man once he came to enjoy sex more. Polite society either ignores sex or we snicker at it. When a man or a woman is unattractive or old, we assume they are too pathetic to have sexual needs and desires. The magazines are filled with pictures of Gibson Girls and the slim, elegant dandies who accompany them. They tend to glorify the fop and the fool, and real men and women feel inferior. It is easy to see human beings as caricatures, not as real persons.
Sex at the Ali Baba Baths wasn't always as successful as my interlude with Carlton. Fortunately, sex was so open and common, a poor experience wasn't much of a problem. There were other fish to fry. I came to understand the great variety in personalities. I tended to make friends and keep them for years. There were some men who seemed to have grand love affairs, or became deeply infatuated with another man. These affairs didn't last. They seemed to evaporate after a month or two. This wasn't a problem for the older members. They had seen it all and knew the type.
Once and a while Omar would come to me with a friend in need. Some men were too shy, or two afraid to join in. Omar said I was like an old shoe; everyone was comfortable with me. I didn't make anyone uncomfortable, and I was sexually open-minded. I could accommodate most men's needs or desires. One day he asked if I could visit early on a Saturday morning. That was a slow time at he baths and one could have the facility to oneself.
I get up early most days and I have no desire to sleep late on my days off. I feel I should get as much out of the day, rather than waste it on sleep. Sometimes I discover I have inherited some of my father's traits.
When I arrived at 5:30, Omar was at desk talking with an impressively large man. Omar introduced him as Timothy O'Rourke, a well-known boxer. Timothy was a mountain of a man, good five or six inches taller than I was. He was double my weight. All of the extra weight was muscle. On Saturday, the baths opened at 6:30 and patrons rarely arrived before 7:30. We had the baths to ourselves. Omar asked me to show Tim around the place. We went to the locker room and undressed. I explained everyone had to shower before entering the other facilities.
While Tim was huge, he was also very nervous. I was naked before he stripped. He was new to the New York. He was a farm boy who had been a boxing success in the Mid-west. New York was vastly larger and more sophisticated. I soon realized he was poorly educated and could barely read. The enter and exit signs were fine, but the "Turn down the steam when you leave the room" sign was too much for him.
"You must scare your opponents when you enter the ring," I said. "You are huge!"
"They are big too," he responded.
"You are built like an ancient god," I added. "You are a handsome figure of a man." he was smooth except for a thick bush. By now, he was wearing only underwear. I could tell he was somewhat erect. "Let's get under the water." I went into the shower room. Perhaps a minute later he joined me. He went to the other end of the room.
I showered and when he dropped the soap, I retrieved it. When I handed it to him, it slipped from his hand. When I went to my knees to get it, his cock was at eye level. I looked at it and then took it in my mouth. Timothy's member was meaty, but not overly so, at least when he was soft.
"Don't do that," he said. "It's dirty."
"You are in the showers, it's fine," I replied.
"You don't need to do that," he reiterated. I didn't think he was particularly sincere, so I kept on sucking. He didn't try to push me away. His cock seemed to welcome the attention.
"Does it feel good?" I asked.
"Oh yes," he whispered.
I returned to sucking his organ. It grew to become and impressive specimen. What I had thought was the cock, was mostly thick, puckered foreskin. The cock itself was telescoped in his body. It turned into a thick, curved member seven or eight inches long. While he was a big, brute of a man, his cock was sensitive and responsive. He shivered as my tongue licked the cock head.
"Let's go to the steam room where we can relax," I said.
"What if someone comes in?" he asked. "I'm naked!"
"You have nothing to be ashamed of being naked. Most men would love to have only half of what you are sporting," I said. We went to the steam room. It was already filled with steam and Timothy relaxed. The steam concealed us as we sat in the corner. I sucked him again. He wasn't very demonstrative, but his cock was enthusiastic. While he was a big brute of a man, his cock head was delicate and it twitched, oozed and drooled in response to my tongue.
Where the cock leads, the man follows. Tim was caressing my hair and directing my head to particularly good places on his cock.
Omar entered the room. Tim started, but when he saw Omar was naked and partially erect he relaxed some. Omar was all man and in control. "I see Walter has introduced you to some of the pleasure of the baths," he said. "Walter is a good man and a good guide to manly pleasures."
"Are you sure this is acceptable?" Tim asked.
Omar laughed. "I own the baths. If I say it is acceptable, it is acceptable. We are a group of congenial men. We are both a bath and sometimes we are more like a club for men," Omar explained. "Some manly pleasures are problematic outside our walls. In the baths, if it is enjoyable it is acceptable. The rules are very simple. If it is pleasurable it is good."
"Walter is very open," Tim said, "I don't think I could ever be that way."
"You enjoyed the attention?" Omar asked.
"I did," Timothy admitted.
"Let me tell you something that may seem odd," Omar said. "I come from a very hard working German family. We came here in 1849 with nothing except the clothes on our backs. My father was on the losing side of a revolution, and we left with nothing. When you send every moment working hard to survive, and make something of yourself, it is very hard to let yourself enjoy the good things of life. When you see life as a struggle it is hard to stop and listen to beautiful music or enjoy a close friend."
"Enjoyment can be as simple as admiring a beautiful sunset, or a fine dinner. It can be conversations with friends and colleagues," Omar continued. "Many see sex as an obligation, a part of their duty to a husband or wife. I think the most intense pleasures of life are sexual. Fools say you should save yourself to marriage. For many, marriage never comes and when it does, it is not a success. To enjoy sex as a simple human pleasure is a beautiful thing."
"Here at the Ali Baba baths everyone has permission to enjoy. You can share this joy with a friend, or with many friends. Men are very clever and inventive creatures. There are many ways for a man to enjoy and to give pleasure. Some pleasure is intellectual, some is sensual," Omar added. "Here pleasures tend to be sensual and sexual."
"I'm not sure I could do what Walter had done for me," Tim said.
"You enjoyed it greatly, did you not?" Omar asked. Tim nodded. "Well some time you will find a man with whom you want to share that pleasure. Nature will take its course." He reached over and stroked Timothy's cock. Timothy had been semi-hard. Omar's touch was enough to get him erect again.
"I know everyone here is new to you, but I can assure you every man here is willing to be your friend. You are among friends here, even though you may not know them," Omar said.
"As friendly as Walter?" Tim asked. Omar smiled and sank to his knees. His tongue worked its magic. After Timothy shot off for a second time, he left. He had to practice at a gymnasium. I wasn't sure he would come back. I thought I had been too forward.
In that respect, I misunderstood the male sexual drive. Several days later, Omar asked if I could get there early on the next Sunday. "Timmy is a nice boy, but he is so reserved. You were good for him," he explained.
When I arrived Sunday morning, Tim was there was another young man, Alonzo. If Timmy hadn't been there, Alonzo would have looked like a big man. Next to the huge boxer, he seemed small. Omar introduced us. Alonzo was a friend Tim met in his rooming house. He was a stevedore for one of the docks on the Hudson.
I think Alonzo was in his early twenties and he gave Tim a look of pure hero worship. We talked as I took them to the locker room. Alonzo was from a small village in Western Pennsylvania. He came to New York to avoid working in the mines. When we stripped Alonzo was clearly excited, but Tim and I pretended not to notice. In the showers, we went to opposite sides of the room. Alonzo was trying to hide his erection.
Alonzo's hard work at the docks resulted in a most muscular and impressive body. He had a hairy chest, with a trail of hair to his bush. His poor, working man's clothes concealed a beautiful body.
In the shower, my cock became firm, as did Tim's organ. When Alonzo noticed that, he relaxed. We moved closer. "You men seem really friendly," Alonzo said. "I've been lonely since I came to New York. I may sound stupid, but while I knew New York was big, I really didn't know what big was."
"It took some time for me to get use to it," I said. "Once you make friends, it is a friendly place. I come from a small town in Vermont. There I was always the schoolmaster's son. He I can be anyone I want, I was free to be what I wanted. In a small town, everyone is watching and has expectations. If I pissed behind a bush, someone would tell my father. Here there are too many people to watch or care. Here you are free." To emphasize that point I reached out and stroked both men's cocks. They were semi-erect when I reached out. Two strokes later, they were rock hard.
"What if someone walks in?" Alonzo asked.
"I smiled. "They will either ignore us or join us," I said. "This is a friendly place and it is more likely that they would join us." We went to the steam room. I wanted to suck a cock, but Alonzo beat me to it. He wanted Tim, and he was more forward than I had guessed.
Logically nudity is our natural state. We are born naked and we lake fur or feathers to cover ourselves. We created clothes when our ancestors moved from tropical and warm area into colder regions. In our culture, clothes acquired significance well beyond their actual function. They became symbols of status and rank. It is remarkable that being in our natural state, nude, is now regarded as a sin, or an affront at the very least.
After many months at the Ali Baba Baths, I noticed that naked men tend to become more primitive. Primitive may be the wrong word. Elemental or basic may be better words. Rank vanishes with the clothes. We see men as they are, not the way their clothes portray them. For the primitive man, the cock, our most despised and embarrassing organ must have been an object of extraordinary interest. The eyes, ears nose and mouth are all sensory organs, but the most beautiful view, the loveliest sound, the sweetest smells and the most delicious meal never approach the intensity of the cock as a creator of pleasure.