Bathhouse Heaven Ch. 01

My cock was not exactly in control either, as sensations overwhelmed me. A wet finger sliding over my soft hole, a mouth on my nipples, playing with myself while getting teabagged, my body swirling in currents of gay group sex. No woman I have talked to about this understands the primal attraction of just letting go among a group of horny men, how perfectly male it feels to get off like this, among a group of naked strangers all having sex with each other.

However, the combination of heat, crowding, and resulting extended lack of movement finally prompted me to try to move away. This took several moments to start, trying to discover the outlines of several bodies, and where there were empty spaces. Such explorations often leading to distraction, in one case because another man wrapped his lips over my cockhead as I knelt, trying to figure out where to move next.

Carefully moving parallel to the cocksucker's body, my ass ended up essentially covering another man's head, though with the full intention to keep trying to leave. My possessions were gathered, including the soaked through towel, making it simple to surrender at the first touch of his willing tongue. My sighing providing a sure signal of my intentions, feeling his hand begin to pump the base of my slippery rod, causing me to settle deeper on his face.

Once or twice it was necessary to move a bit to keep from cramping, allowing him the chance to blow me, changing position a bit between sessions of rimming. Dark desires had been steadily rising the entire time, staying at the edge of my mind, even as my body surrendered to them. Positioning myself carefully, opening the bottle, letting my hole sink against his probing tongue, firmly closing the cover before starting to bend down, hands wrapping around his thighs to pull me downwards.

Poised just above his sexy smelling rod, knowing that I would be going down on him, he abruptly moved a hand to cover his naked cock. Oddly smug again at not breaking a very long held rule, my head sank between his legs, under his stiff and still hand covered cock. Breathing out, I began to rim his soft hole. Finding out in a moaning moment of pure bliss that rush makes rimming utterly addictively, my face burrowing deeper, sliding my own asshole back and forth over his mouth.

This was paradise, of a sort barely rumored about in my youth, generally by people opposed to such pleasures being shared among men. Pleasures they often seemed to simultaneously emphasize even while warning against them. Pleasures so easily found at the baths, especially for married men wishing to remain anonymous. In my 50s, I have realized that a number of married men have always looked for the sort of straightforward sex available at the baths, some of those men being the sort to talk in public about what goes on there in private. Whether to warn or entice becoming irrelevant after a man visits the baths for the first time, the exposure to pure male sex leading to a lifetime giving in to its attractions.

After adding beer, bowls, and poppers to mutual rimming, the decadent satisfaction was utterly rewarding. This was the variety of gay sex that had always filled my most secret imagination, purely physical sensations wending deeper, wiping out all thinking, tongue slathering over a man's hole as he did the same to me, knees spreading to allow his tongue total access to my willing ass.

In the background of my mind, there remained an odd mix of relief and disappointment at resisting sucking a bare cock, utterly lost in the intoxication of bathhouse sex. I did several more hits, each time putting my mouth at his ass before breathing out. He would wait until I became a helpless slut before pushing his tongue past my well lubricated ass ring, both of us becoming totally dedicated ass lickers.

After an indefinite interval filled with pure oral bliss, several things happened. The first was someone turning on the fan I'd unplugged. The second was noticing just how hot and sweaty I'd become. The third was seeing just how full the darkroom had become. The fourth being that the man I'd been sharing a rim job with moved and then left.

My cock was still hard, and the fan was doing a nice if noisy job of cooling the room, not to mention my wet skin. My eyes had adapted to the extremely low level of light, allowing the chance to see dim forms on the platform. Including a man likely to be one I'd already played with. Carefully, I moved parallel to the first man most likely encountered this afternoon, ass temptingly close to his face. A leg extended, hoping that this hint would be more than sufficient while pumping his stiff shaft as I bent over it.

Considering that it was likely he had known what had been happening next to him, the shiver of pleasure that ran through me as his tongue stretched out and touched my ass should not have been so surprising. Yet it was, as a third man began to rim me. A man whose cock smelled thoroughly enticing, causing me to breathe in more deeply while getting closer. A sexual perfume was enveloping me, almost fully capturing my attention.

The small part that wasn't sinking into a blissful state was concentrating on getting the rush bottle ready. Breathing in, waiting only long enough to firmly close and carefully position the bottle for further use. Feeling the rush grow with the reality of what was going to happen, approaching his cock with my open mouth, settling down on his ass licking face.

Starting to go down on a raw cock, amazed at how turned on it made me. Cock sucking with a condom is like fucking with a condom - there may be excellent reasons for the condom, but the experience is not the same. What I was experiencing was unbelievably slutty, surrendering to the desire to put my mouth around a man's sexy shaft. Breathing out, sliding a silky cock back and forth in my mouth, a hand touched my cock, leading me to soon return to rimming him.

Doing another hit, I returned to taking his cock into a no longer virgin mouth, amazed at how immensely large he felt, taking his rod as deep as possible, my hole was being bathed by his tongue. Turning into a sexual animal, burying my face between his legs again, sticking my questing tongue further past his quivering anal ring, while he did the same thing to me.

Though blur is not the right concept for how such intense sensations are experienced, it describes trying to recollect the mixture of poppers, rimming, ball licking, and cock sucking with detail. The platform was full, and the smell of poppers seemed to be coming from multiple places. I brought him to the very edge of cumming several times, discovering just how much I loved teabagging a man, moving my tongue from his ass to his balls, then back again, in ever widening distance, until finally my tongue was sliding from his yielding ass to his thrusting cockhead.

Other men would get involved in a minor way, sliding their hands over our bodies, but we mainly remained a pair, heads firmly fixed between each other's spread legs. At some point, his hand found mine holding the brown bottle of magic as I did a hit. Closing the bottle, it only occurred to me as I went down on his cock again that he might enjoy them too. After returning to some semblance of awareness, I felt his searching fingers. Taking another hit before giving them to him, hearing him open the bottle as I started tonguing his asshole.

I had never felt so perfectly depraved as now, licking cock, balls, and ass, feeling him pull my hole to his face, both of us sharing the same desires while satisfying them, a pair of bathhouse lovers. I heard him do another hit as a bottle reached my hands - someone else's, the larger size making it obvious.

Opening that bottle, getting off from sharing a stranger's poppers, feeling a hand on my cock, going down on a now familiar cock, ass being licked, in heaven at the baths.

Finally, the man underneath me moved, taking my cock into his mouth for a bit before leaving the darkroom. Even without cumming, I was completely worn, though the smell of a man's cock and ass remained delightful.

Gathering up everything, I though maybe it was as late as 5pm, and hopefully not raining yet. I weaved clumsily out of the space, feeling a sort of drunkenness only rarely enjoyed in the past.

The clock said 7:30pm, an incredible fact, meaning that I'd just spent at least four hours having sex. Yet, in certain distinct ways, it made sense, comparable to the only other time I'd had sex for that long, with many of the same sort of disjointed memories of licking pussy and toes and ass, fucking in several positions, and feeling like this at the end, amazed at the time that had passed.

It was raining as I left, with the smell remaining arousing for hours after coming home, as potent a reminder of what I'd enjoyed as the scent of any woman I'd eaten and rimmed. The last couple of bathhouse visits have shown just how powerfully sexy the smell of a man can be, after going down on one long enough, naturally.