I am a middle-aged married man with wide sexual tastes. Because of the constraints of my life, most of my male/male activities have been hot, brief encounters, in steam rooms, saunas and bath houses.
These stories are reminiscences of my hottest encounters, written in the hope that readers will relate to the experiences, and enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed the writing.
This was one of the best times at the baths, in a West Coast city. I was wandering past the gym area. No one's ever there. Who goes to the baths to work out? But this time an attractive young man was sitting at the lat machine. Short, dark, curly hair, hairy chest, nice build. Just what I like. I go over, reach down to massage his chest.
He says something like, "Wow. That's nice. Everyone else just grabs for you here." Well, I sort of did, too. But I guess he needed the gentle touch. That's me. He fondles my crotch, and I invite him to my room. He follows, no question. This is already hot. He's in his 30's, sexy, dark, 5 o'clock shadow, just what I like.
In the room, I close the door. We immediately go at it, sixty-nine. Each of us knows just what he wants. I'm on bottom, with my legs leaning against the far wall. He's on top, and his balls hang down. Beautiful balls. Not too hairy, not too big. They maintain their heft as his dick gets hard, without pulling up towards his body. His balls turn me on. Nice cock, too. Average, great length. Beautifully formed. He's tonguing mine like mad. He likes this too. A great fit.
He says, "Lick my balls. That's how I'm gonna come." As if I needed an invitation. I love them. Perfect. They keep hanging low, no matter how hot he gets--and he's already pretty hot. I lick them, then the flat area behind, which he really likes. Then suck his cock. I'm in heaven. I want this to last forever. He's sucking on me like there's no tomorrow. I love this. I get to suck on him, lick everything I like, and get serviced in return. We need each other, please each other. Physically great. Emotionally deep.
And it goes on and on. I feel his firm, round ass, his tight chest, his toned arms. Because I'm sucking his cock, not his ballls, he doesn't come. Once in while, for a treat, I go down to tongue his balls. But not enough to drive him over the edge. He warned me about this himself, after all. And besides, I love sucking his cock.
One of the best half hours of my life. Of course, eventually it's over. I'm seduced by those balls, and spend just a little too much time on them. He comes while I lick the skin just behind them. I come right after that, shooting across the room, as usual.
We cuddle and talk. He's short, a jock, beautifully proportioned. From at town just north of the big city. I've been there, but only on the way to someplace else. He's a soccer player, on a team. Mexican family, but very American. Slight charming accent. He comes down here once in a while, has his fun, goes home and plays soccer. Then talk runs out. We don't talk, just hold each other, feel warm and close. This is great. Eventually, we break apart. He leaves.
Later, I'm soaking in the Jacuzzi, from where you can see everyone passing in and out of the club. He's leaving, with a red jock's bag. Dressed like a soccer player, he jauntily waves goodbye.
Wow.
Later, the same night. I'm hard again, and looking. I wander over to the platform where you can stand and get sucked. But I'm not at the edge, not at the railing. I'm in the middle, looking around. What should I do next?
The decision is taken out of my hands. A guy comes out of nowhere and kneels down fast, like sliding into second base. He takes my cock in his mouth. Suddenly, he's sucking like it's the last cock on earth, and I'm loving it. Where did this come from? I don't care. It's very, very hot.
I hold his head. There are cubicles behind me, where someone can stand on a lower level and suck cocks through a hole. Out of one of the holes comes a hand, then another hand, grabs my ass and caresses, while I'm being sucked. That's great, but nothing I want to follow up on. I'm too taken by the second-base guy.
I can't see him very well, because he's kneeling down below me. He's got hair. I can't tell if it's grey or what. But nice. He's busy on me, loves it. He doesn't give me a chance to reach down, to reciprocate, even to find out what he's like. OK. I'll go with it. He loves my cock, I love that.
So I ask him to my room. He says yes. On the way I get a look at him. Looks younger than I, 40's, tall, in good shape, hairy chest.
We get to my room, He sits on the bed and goes for my cock. He only wants one thing around here. No small talk, no fondling. I want more, of course. So I get into a 69 position, and tongue his cock. It's soft.
He says, "Careful. There's a hernia down there."
I'm not sure exactly what he means, but I say, "I'll be careful. I'll be gentle." He holds his hand in a certain place on his balls, and I continue to lick. Nice cock, nice balls. But he never gets hard--never.
I don't care. I love this, just for what it is. And he's going crazy on my dick. I don't know what's going to happen. I've just come, 30 minutes ago.
But then suddenly I do know what's going to happen. Surprisingly, a familiar warm sensation begins in my crotch, in my balls. I'm going to have an orgasm, less than an hour after the previous one. Pretty soon, there's no stopping. I'm going to come. He sucks harder, or at least faster. He wants it, and he wants it in his mouth.
I say, "Gotta be safe," and pull out. The stuff pumps out of me, hits the mirror, hits the wall. My usual long shot, the second of the night.
Then we cuddle, watching the porn on the TV. Neither of us like the guy sticking things up his urethra, so I change it. He forgets he's in my room, thinks we're in his, and that I should be leaving. But little of this is spoken, and we're cuddling. I love this.
"Where you from?" I tell him. He's from a town on the north coast, where a classic movie was made. I mention that I know about it. He's surprised. A little naive, but a nice guy. He asks me how old I am. He's thinking: How could I know about that film if I don't remember the first run? Turns out, we're about the same age. He's got two kids, I tell him about mine. His kids don't talk to him. He's had problems in his life. Drugs. Amphetamines. That's why he can't come, maybe. Or maybe he's a bottom. Wouldn't have taken him for a bottom: good looking, ruggedly handsome, well built, blondish, nice. But of course you never know. Anyway, he never indicated that he wanted me to top him.
We hug, and he leaves.
This was a great night, but I'm done. As I get ready to leave, an older muscled guy smiles at me. Nice body. He had seen me before, but wanted better. Well, too late now. He'll have to find someone else. Well, that's the baths.