Gay Temples

By: David Andrew
(© 2008 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 3

As I have told you the Baths were the place that I got into the gay scene. I had so many good times, I hope you will be interested in hearing more. I will try to avoid a blow by blow commentary, I’m sure you’ve had enough of it, I will just stick some of what to me were the highlights.

Having been sucked off once I couldn’t wait for my next visit. I’d had a lot of straight sex, now I was going to get as much of gay sex as I could. I really wanted to “do it” out in the open, not furtively in the darkened dormitory. I thought of the steam-room, but the steam was so thick that it was virtually doing it in the dark. I’d seen guys doing it in the TV room, even on the dance floor, completely ignoring the others who were watching. One couple in the disco got so carried away that they fucked in time to the music, right in the middle of the floor. I wanted to do something like that, to see the man who I was having sex with, to let him see me. They knew they were gay, most had probably felt that way all their lives. I now knew that I was bi-sexual, but for me it was such a new sensation that I had to prove it to myself, and to anyone who cared to watch. There was a problem, I still didn’t quite have the nerve. Either the opportunity didn’t arise, or else I didn’t take it when it did and I ended up cursing myself.

I spent a lot of time in the steam-room, there was usually a good crowd, plenty of groping, sucking and fucking. By now I was relaxed enough to enjoy being groped and sucked. Sometimes I was in there so long I’d feel quite light headed from the heat, so I’d take a dip in the pool. Often the crowd in the steam was so thick I had to push my way through. I realized how far I had come as I deliberately rubbed my cock and balls against all the bodies on the way to the exit. Just a few weeks before I would have cowered in a corner waiting until they’d moved off. Coming out of the heat and plunging naked into the pool was truly exciting.

Each time I was in New York I went back to the Continental Baths, there was no way I could have stayed away from the place. After several visits I decided that it was time to go into the dark end of the dormitory. I swore that I wouldn’t leave until I’d found out what went on in there, but I didn’t go straight in. I wandered around taking in the sights, naked bodies, lovely cocks, low hanging balls. As usual I spent quite a while in the steam-room, let quite a few guys suck my cock and balls while they worked a finger up my asshole. I no longer felt under pressure, I knew this was going to end in the Dormitory. Whatever happened before that was just playing around. One thing I really liked about the baths was that none of the guys got pissed off when I pulled away from them. They seemed to accept that it was good to get a hard cock to suck on even if they weren’t rewarded with a mouthful of cum. I never avoided being touched, fingered, or sucked, it was all good, so good. And being slim, in shape, and hard, I got a lot of attention. I was enjoying myself enormously, but it was getting late, I had to do it, I had sworn to do it, so I set off up the stairs.

I waited a while near the entrance, just watching the guys going in and coming out. As I had seen before, most of them were turning to the right as they went in. They all slipped off their towels, dropping them on a bunk bed, then disappeared naked into the darkness. Well, I had to go in, so I decided that I would do as the others did even if I wasn’t feeling very confident. I took the plunge, slipped off my towel and walked into the dark. It really was dark, pitch black in fact, like a photographic darkroom. The walls and ceiling must have painted matte black, there wasn’t even any reflected light from the door. Just three or four steps past the bed where the towels were draped I stumbled over the edge of a mattress laid on the floor. It’s bad enough tripping over something in the dark, but it is a strange feeling when you find yourself unexpectedly on a soft, yielding surface. It’s very difficult to regain your balance when you cannot see. I staggered forward two or three steps and before I had sorted myself out I felt about a dozen hands all over my body, fighting for possession, pushing each other off. There were hands on my tits, cock, balls, and searching for my asshole. It was wilder than anything I could have imagined at that time. They were fighting for the right to claim my body. As I stood there swaying on the soft surface, one guy who was kneeling in front of me, got his arms around my hips. My cock was pressed hard against his face as his hands worked furiously to remove other hands and establish ownership. This went on for a minute or two, not a word was spoken, just lots of groping hands. Eventually he managed to push the others away and drew me off to one side of the mattress.

He explored every inch of my body, seemed delighted, then did it all over again with his tongue. And I mean all over. I was rimmed by a man for the first time, just wonderful, my asshole was really alive, the most incredible sensations. I was in heaven. After a really good working over he asked me what I wanted him to do. This took me by surprise, I hadn’t thought of what I wanted him to do, I was only too happy to be having sex with a man, any man, any way. He asked again. I knew what it had to be, but was afraid to ask. Finally I managed to get it out.

“Will you fuck me,” I asked in a whisper. My reply certainly pleased him, he wanted to get straight into me, but I thought it best to warn him that I had never been fucked before. As you may imagine he was even more enthusiastic when he heard that. After the beautiful sensations his tongue had just produced, I wanted more, and I expected it to be even better with his penis. I tried to turn over to lie on my stomach so that he could fuck me from behind. It’s the position in which I’d always envisioned being fucked, but to my surprise he stopped me. Instead, he raised and spread my legs, bending them up over my body, then positioned himself behind my raised ass. He didn’t have any lubricant, but once again I felt his tongue, very wet this time. Soon the saliva was running down between the cheeks of my ass. He worked it in with his tongue and then further in with his finger. When I felt his cock-head pushing against my sphincter I just knew that this was going to be the best sex I had ever had in my life. The stab of pain came as a terrible shock, again and again, like a knife being thrust up my hole. I couldn’t believe it, not after the incredible sensations I had just experienced. He told me to relax, to push down, to let him in. He kept saying that it would be alright once he got past the sphinctre. He pushed and pushed, I gasped each time, but the more it hurt the more difficult it became for him to break through. He changed positions a few times, but only to bend my legs further or spread them wider. I ended up with my feet right up either side of my head. This didn’t feel right to me, it was awkward, uncomfortable, difficult to breathe. I wanted him to let me turn over, that seemed a more natural position in which to be fucked. I would have held my ass up so that he could have a straight thrust at my hole. He insisted that he could get more pressure in this folded position, but in the end he had to admit to defeat, his penis was bending, not penetrating. When he let my legs down he was still kneeling between them, his mouth dropped on to my cock and in just a matter of seconds he got the lot, he deserved it.

Well that was my first attempt to get fucked. I felt disappointed, but not ashamed of myself. I kept thinking of Pat’s dictum, “Don’t die wondering!” I’d seen so many men being fucked, and clearly they were enormously turned on by it. I wanted that experience too, I wanted to be thoroughly fucked. At least I hadn’t run away from it this time. I’d offered him my ass, really had tried to take his cock, but in the end he was the one who gave up. I learned something that night that was going to be proved over and over again in the coming months, I have a very tight ass. I also knew I was going to be fucked, that it would be painful, but somehow that made it more exciting.

I was always conscious of the possibility of picking up infections, most guys didn’t give a damn, to them a dose of clap was only a question of getting shots to clear it up. But for me it would have been much more of a problem if I had brought a venereal disease home. Many years ago I was told by a Navy doctor that if ever a man had sex without a condom, the next best form of protection was to go for a piss immediately afterwards. He said the trick was to hold the penis tightly while trying to piss, then letting it out in short, strong bursts. This would dislodge and flush out any organisms which might be in the urethra. Not perfect, but pretty effective he assured me. I suppose that this was good advice, certainly I never got a dose. When I started fucking in the baths this is what I did. Being sucked didn’t seem to be so risky, but I’d always take a piss, just in case. I sucked hundreds of cocks, but didn’t swallow that much cum. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to take the cum, but almost invariably the men wanted my stiff cock. I still remember some of the guys whose semen I did take. One Chinese guy for instance, who climbed on to a bunk I was resting on. He was astride my body, took my cock in his mouth then turned himself around so that his cock was right over my mouth. It was quite small, very small actually, as were his balls. I was able to take his cock all the way in, and work his balls with my nose. In no time he was moaning. Just a few seconds later he shot his load into my mouth. I was surprised, it was a big load considering the size of his balls. I was also surprised by the taste, quite peppery, distinctly peppery. I remember another guy, a big, powerful man, he had a really fat cock and truly massive balls. He was lying on a low bunk, almost at floor level. I watched him pulling on his cock for a while, wondered what it would be like to have such a massive dick. He saw me watching.

“Do you want to suck a real cock?” he asked. I had nothing to loose so I bent down to get into the bed.

“That really is amazing,” I said, taking the head into my mouth. It was enormous, the mushroom head alone filled my mouth. And his balls, they really were the size of goose eggs. I struggled to get just a bit of the shaft into my mouth, but I gagged. I lifted my head to tell him that I was still very new to this and just couldn’t take his magnificent cock, but a powerful hand clamped down on the back head.

“Go down on it boy... Take it all... Don’t play with it, suck it!” His voice was harsh. With this he thrust down harder ramming his cock deep into my throat. I gagged and struggled, but there was no escape. “And you work those balls. You hear? Those are real balls, not pigeon eggs like yours. Work them hard!”

His hips were thrusting upwards at the same time as his hand was pushing my head down. His cock went deeper than I would have believed possible. I knew that I wasn’t going to escape until he’d come so I dug my fingers into his nuts. I really tried to hurt him: he groaned in pleasure. A couple of years later I’d moan too when my balls were being tortured, but at that time I couldn’t believe that any man could take this sort of treatment. I suppose it didn’t take very long, but it seemed like an eternity at the time. When he came he was deep in my throat. I could feel the squirts, more and more and more. I swallowed and swallowed, but with his dick still pumping deep in my throat it wasn’t possible to swallow fast enough. His cum filled my throat, filled my mouth. Some escaped past my lips, that brought another outburst.

“You swallow every drop, cock sucker! You hear me? That’s the best you’ll ever get!”

I don’t have any way of knowing how much juice he pumped into me, it was a lot, the biggest load I ever took that’s for sure. It was perhaps the one exception to what I said about all the guys being gentle, this one was brutal. But you know it taught me a lesson, I could take a cock without choking. From then on I did manage to take cocks way down deep.

Some months after I started going to the Continental I got into conversation with a guy in the steam-room. He asked if I’d been to the Club. I told him of my experience of the time I’d been turned away because I wasn’t a member and knew no one who would sign me in. It puzzled him because he’d had no such problem. So, on my next trip to the city, I headed south on the subway ‘F’ train to try getting in to the Club. At the door I was ready for an argument, but there was none, I got the room I asked for, no mention of membership. When the restriction was lifted I don’t know, or there again it is possible that I just met the wrong guy at the desk first time I went.

The guy who told me to go again had been right, the Club was definitely a more attractive place. A magnificent building, marble staircase, marble tiles in the basement, fine Jacuzzi down there, a better dormitory than the Continental, with more action, and although I didn’t find it for quite some time, the orgy room was fantastic! I didn’t entirely switch my allegiance though, the Continental had a real pool, and the steam-room was much hotter in both senses, so I continued to use it from time to time.

For a start let me try to describe the layout of the basement in the Club. The staircase down to the basement was wide, maybe eight feet wide, and straight. Descending, one came down on the right side of the basement which spread out to your left; a big room, massive in fact, could have been about 50 feet long by 30 feet wide 12 or 15 feet high, white tiled, white marble floors, all brilliantly lit by numerous spot lights. At the bottom of the stairs was a 10 foot wide open space clear across the room. Once at the bottom the sauna was behind you to your left. An attractive structure in cedar, huge plate-glass window showing the interior also brilliantly lit. There were cedar decks, L-shaped, with plenty of room for 10 or more guys to lie full length if they chose to. Strangely I never saw any action in the sauna. (The one in the Continental had looked good too, looked like it would be a hot place to hang out in both senses, but nothing happened in there either. Plenty of guys went in, lovely looking gear hanging real loose in the heat, just no action. True it was hot in there, but so was the steam-room, yet the steam-room floor would be slippery with jism before the night was half through. The sauna was well lit, but so was the orgy room, and yet there must have been many pints of jism exchanged every night in the orgy room. So much sex, absolutely no limits, but the sauna was dry!) Maybe they were both just too well lit.

The Jacuzzi was close by the bottom of the stairs. Much bigger than the average Jacuzzi, about 10 feet square. There were the usual ledges to sit on around three sides, the other side being steps down into the water. Looking to the right from the bottom of the stairs there was a shower area, two quadruple showerheads with just plate-glass separating them from the rest of the basement. Several of the overhead spotlights were trained on this small space, so again no privacy whatsoever. Beyond the shower there was another open space on the right of which there was a stream-room, on the left a tepidarium (I think that is the term used for a room that is warm and wet rather than hot and steamy, but I may be wrong). Neither of these rooms had had any thought put into them. Each was just a long narrow glass-fronted room with a bench running the full length. Compared to the rest of the Club they were shoddy, compared to the steam-room in the Continental they were pathetic. And that wasn’t just my opinion, there were seldom more than a few guys sitting in a row looking glum!

So going back to the foot of the stairs… First thing naturally was to take a shower, didn’t matter that I was squeaky clean when I left the hotel, everyone went to the shower before going into the Jacuzzi, sauna or so-called steam-room. For me hanging up my towel and walking naked into the glass enclosure was an immensely exciting strain, took a bit of doing even when I’d been to the Club many times. Bad enough when there was no one else showering, much worse when half a dozen other guys were already in there. It wasn’t like taking a shower after a game of squash, or at a swimming pool. These guys had a sexual interest; they were sizing up my dick, checking out my balls, wondering about fucking my neat rounded butt maybe. This I found both exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. Coming out of the sprays there was the open space to cross before reaching the Jacuzzi. Most guys managed to look so cool, their cocks flopping from side to side, balls swinging between their legs. My cock was always waggling out front like an antenna, straight towards the guys who were already in the water, their bodies hidden by the swirling foam, just a row of heads, and eyes! Believe me there was nothing so obvious as the openly interested stares, it was visual groping. I swear I could almost feel it! Had the pool been the usual design where you sit on the edge then slip directly into the water to be covered in a second or two it would still have been daunting. But this pool had steps, each step down taking you closer to the eyes, four steps before the water mercifully closed over your balls, yet another before a rampant cock sank under the foam. Once I was safely hidden all eyes reverted to what I’d call the Jacuzzi Stare, which is to say they all concentrated on a spot on the far wall, up near the ceiling as though expecting something to appear. In time I learned that each area in the Club seemed to have its own etiquette, the Jacuzzi Stare was part of the routine for the pool. Let me explain…

If it was a quiet night guys coming into the half empty pool would choose his spot very carefully whilst avoiding any eye contact with the men already in the water. He would sit eight to ten inches from one of them, no further, no closer, then he too would settle in to the Jacuzzi Stare. Maybe a minute would go by, maybe two, then, if he’d chosen to sit close to me, I would feel his knee touch mine very lightly. The correct response I eventually discovered was to resist the pressure, just enough that he knew you knew and he could make the next move. After another pause fingers would brush lightly against the outside of my thigh while he continued to gaze into space. If I didn’t move, or worse, made the slightest movement away, it was total rejection. It was all or nothing in the Jacuzzi. If I moved my leg just a millimetre towards him it was an invitation to proceed. His hand would slide up over my leg and stroke the inside of my thigh. Again he’d wait for some indication as to whether this attention was desirable. At this point another slight movement of my leg, just parting them ever so slightly was enough to indicate that his attention was desirable. However, by this time ignoring his hand didn’t seem to amount to rejection because after some more inner thigh stroking he’d gradually move his hand further and further up until it brushed my genitals. He’d pause again, but unless there was some adverse response he’d soon go all the way and fondle the goodies. Once the ice was broken we could relax, reach for balls, cocks, ass-holes, but still there’d be only minimal eye contact, usually no eye contact at all. I never got to used to groping and being groped whist the two of us stared straight ahead. What was that all about? When you have your finger up some guy’s ass and he has your balls in his hand it’s hardly the time to be coy! Only very occasionally did I ever talk to anyone in the Jacuzzi, other places it was okay, but in the Jacuzzi for some strange reason guys just didn’t seem sufficiently at ease to talk as they fondled. As you can imagine it took a while to learn this “courtship routine.” When I was new to this I was constantly screwing up the connection. A guy’s hand would touch my leg, I’d wait for more. Suddenly he’d withdraw, all because I hadn’t responded properly. Sometimes I would turn towards the guy when his hand touched my leg, that always caused confusion. It was as though the routine was pre-programmed, and suddenly the program had crashed.

When the pool was busy the courtship dance was modified. As you approached the pool the visible heads would not be evenly spaced along the edges. Judging by the spacing it was possible to work out who was groping whom. Shoulders up to about six inches apart indicated that something was happening under water. A foot or more apart clearly meant the space was vacant; between those numbers was iffy. If the guys separated a bit further as you approached then you weren’t interrupting anything: if they closed the gap a bit then they were “already engaged.” Once you’d settled in with your butt gratefully on the underwater ledge everyone reverted to the correct form, Jacuzzi Stare set in. There’d be the usual pause, but it would be a lot shorter when the pool was busy. Indeed entering the water with an erection on a busy night there might be no pause, it was catch as catch can! And when the pool was busy the courtship was still carried out, but went into “fast forward.” In just seconds you’d feel the knee, the fingers followed on almost immediately, and in just a few more seconds there’d be the fingers of one hand probing from behind as my cock and balls were fondled by the other. I still screwed up from time to time, it just seemed so natural to turn towards the guy who had my cock in his hand, but it invariably caused confusion, broke a spell. Often he’d break contact, it was over. Sometimes he’d move away, or even leave the pool! No kidding! It was even worse if I reached for his cock without going through the introductory routine, that simply was not acceptable and he’d surely move away. I swear I was left puzzled on many occasions before I got it buttoned up!

I also discovered that it was possible to cause havoc by taking my place equidistant from two otherwise unoccupied guys. There’d be the customary pause followed almost simultaneously by pressure from two knees. Pressing back on one or the other allowed the introductory maneuvering to continue on one side, pressing back against both caused a problem. Picture the scene, three guys sitting in a row up to their necks in foam, all looking straight ahead, twelve o’clock high. The two outer guys both apply pressure, both get the come on, both get the impression that they’ve been offered the jewels, but when their fingers meet! Consternation. Sometimes both hands would withdraw instantly, other times there’d be a struggle for possession. Oh God it was so good, I just loved that struggle!

Once I discovered the joys of wearing a cock-ring I attracted even more attention. I used a bright steel ring, real tight, so tight in fact that I had to put it on before leaving the hotel. I’d take a shower, lather my cock and balls with plenty of soap, then slip the ring over my cock. The first testicle went in fairly easily, but by this time I’d have an erection and it would be a real struggle to get the second one in. There were times, when I was feeling particularly randy, that I couldn’t push the second nut through, it was so tight it was just too painful. I’d sit and watch TV, or try to read a book to relax, then pop the testicle through quickly when I softened a bit. Of course once the ring was on it was there for the evening, only bolt-cutters could have removed it, but it felt so good! And I know it sounds conceited, but I think it looked good too. My balls were held up high and out front, they got a lot of attention. I had always had a small patch of skin on my scrotum, about an inch across, that was hairless. It was so smooth, like silk, I loved the feel of it. When I started using the cock-ring the skin was stretched tight and this little bit felt even smoother. One day, just on an impulse before going to the baths, I decided to improve things. I shaved some hair, just a little, making the bald patch bigger. I could only shave a little, I couldn’t go home with a hairless scrotum.  However, it felt really good. I didn’t know it then but I had started something I’ve never stopped. In a couple of days the hairs grew again and felt like stubble, that didn’t feel good, so I tried plucking the stubble out with tweezers. I was surprised to find that there was no pain, the hairs just slipped out easy as could be. And when they eventually grew again they didn’t feel like stubble, they were just short, soft hairs. Little by little I plucked out more hairs, gradually increasing the size of the bald patch. I had to do it over a period of months because I was worried mostly that my wife would notice and wonder what was going on. But there were also my medical checks, three times a year. There were three doctors who carried out these checks, and one of them liked to have us strip off naked. I knew that he wasn’t in a position to make any comment on the fact that my scrotum was hairless, pilots are required to have certain things, like reasonable eye sight, and hearing too, a functioning heart, and for some reason I never could figure out they always checked for a hernia. You know, “cough” and the balls are supposed to bob up and down. There was however, no requirement to have any pubic hair. Still I was worried that the extra tension might affect my blood-pressure readings which was something that would have been taken seriously and it was a very real possibility. Over time I removed more and more hair, but I was always conscious of the medicals. I’d let the hair grow for a month or so before a check, that helped to disguise the nakedness of the scrotum to some extent without changing the feel too much. Then I’d remove even more over the next few weeks so that there was no sudden change in appearance. My initial ambition was to have no hair on the part of the sac that came through the ring. That took many months, and when I achieved it my sac felt fantastic, my partners in the baths loved it too. Several times guys sucked so long on my balls that I was in agony, had to beg them to bring me off to relieve the pressure. Later I decided that the hair on the inside of my thighs on each side of the sac were spoiling the effect. I wanted to feel skin, just skin, so I trimmed that hair short. By this time my balls really were pretty much bald, but because I’d done it gradually I’d gotten used to the look and feel. Once I’d accepted that the doctors were in no position to comment on my hairless scrotum I was even quite blasé at medicals, my blood-pressure was always commendably low. It wasn’t until I met up with one of our stewardesses whom I hadn’t seen for many months that I realized how much I’d changed my appearance.

“David!” she said as soon as I stripped. “What’s happened to your balls?” I was momentarily confused as to what to say.

“Come,” I said. “Let’s have a shower, then you can see how good they feel.” She liked the feel of them so much as she soaped them that she didn’t wait to get to bed before she had them in her mouth and she never again asked about how or why I had no pubes.

Now I no longer worry about it. I have gone still further, my pubes finish about a half inch above my cock, nothing at all below that right back to my ass-hole, strangely my wife has never commented on it.

So, to get back to the Jacuzzi…  There was the usual ledge to sit on, about thirty inches below the surface so that the hot, swirling water came up to shoulder height. There were also eight or ten water jets evenly spaced around the pool placed a couple of inches above the ledge, really powerful ones. I soon found that if I placed my hands on the ledge and lifted my ass up I could align the flow with my hole, very good, almost as good as being rimmed. Even better was to push my cock down between my tightly clamped legs, that forced my balls down as well. If I then lifted my ass a bit further the rushing water just skimmed beneath the cheeks of my ass and slammed into the back of my balls. It was so painful that at first I could only take it for a few seconds at a time, but the more time I spent in the Jacuzzi the longer I could bear it. When I was wearing the cock ring it made the water beating even better. I never came in the Jacuzzi but quite a few guys did. I remember one couple in particular. They came into the pool together, both of them already hard. They didn’t waste any time, one lay back holding on to the side of the bath with his arms spread out. He allowed his body to float up, full length, just under the surface with his fine curving cock sticking up out of the water. His partner positioned himself between the outstretched legs, his hands under the buns, then leaned forward to take the penis into his mouth. They did a sort of water-ballet, alternately submerging and rising over and over again. Sometimes when they came up the one who was doing the sucking lifted his partner way up and I could see that his fingers were deep in the hole. At other times I could see that he’d got a good grip around his partner’s scrotum and had pulled him to the surface by his balls. Eventually the one who was being sucked started to moan and toss his head from side to side. Occasionally the sucker lifted right off the long cock, then plunging down again. I could see that his thumbs were working hard on the balls, and I’m sure his fingers were well into the hole. Suddenly the suckee let out a real loud gasp, the sucker held the tip of the cock in his mouth while his thumbs continued to work on the testicles. I could see the shaft flexing with each spurt of juice being pumped straight to the waiting mouth. When there was no more to come the sucker slid up his partners body, their mouths met and they kissed for the longest time, a real wet, slippery kiss. It really was a virtuoso performance, just beautiful to watch.

Another area that had its own etiquette was the dormitory in the Club. In the dormitory there were some triple, and some quadruple-level bunk-beds. The bottom bunks were really low. This is where the cock-suckers would sit waiting for a likely looking dick to come within reach. ( In case you’re wondering that’s not a pejorative remark. I was sometimes a cock-sucker too.)

The second level would have been about four feet up, easy to get to by stepping up on to the first level and hoisting yourself up. I very soon found that stepping up on to the lowest bunk, and then lifting one leg up to climb on to the next one gave the suckers the perfect opportunity to move in and get my cock and balls with my legs wide apart. Just wonderful! Sometimes I never made it up. The second level bunks were for guys who wanted sex and wanted it now. On this level they were at just the right height to be checked out. The third level was usually occupied by guys who were taking a break. On a quiet night you’d seldom be molested on the third level, but if it was busy someone would surely climb up to check out the gear that was lying around unused. The top level bunks were used by guys who were recuperating from their exertions, or couples who really wanted to be left in peace to do their own thing.

So what was the etiquette of the dormitory? For the suckers on the lowest level bunks no introduction was needed, any guy who stood for a few seconds within reach would be sucked in to a waiting mouth. Most guys slipped off their towel as they came into the dormitory, although Latinos, of whom there were quite a few, seemed reluctant to strip naked. Towel or no towel, it made no difference to the suckers, they’d take anything within reach. Then, fondling the genitals they’d draw the guy in. His cock would be swallowed in one swift move, the hands would move around to the buttocks, massaging, gently easing them apart. A finger would probe, find the hole and massage until the sphinctre relaxed enough to take it. Now the hole would be spread wider and wider as the sucker really got into it. After a while he’d let the cock slip out and switch to the balls, nuzzling them with his nose and chin. If that seemed to go down well he’d take them in his mouth, roll them around, very gently at first to see how the guy took it. If they were thrust forward the sucker knew they were his, he suck them in and enjoy them. Most guys who let it go this far gave the suckers what they wanted, fresh, warm semen. Quite a lot of guys would remain standing as they were sucked, others would allow themselves to be drawn down into the dark recess of the bunk to be thoroughly drained. I must admit I seldom came when being sucked standing up. It felt good, especially once the sucker’s fingers were in my hole, but there was something lacking. I suppose just having to keep my balance as he got more and more enthusiastic was part of the problem. It was always better when I was lying down, I could let myself go and give him anything he wanted.

The second level bunks required a bit more etiquette. The absolutely invariable way of making contact was for a hand to brush very lightly against the inside of the ankle. The fingers would pause, barely touching the skin. The correct response was to move the ankle towards him very slightly, a fraction of an inch was sufficient: That amounted to: “Yes I like it, keep it coming.” I always lay face down, my butt was rounded and tight, men liked it, whereas the only exceptional thing about my cock was that it was hard. His hand would slide up the back of the leg, still being incredibly gentle. It would brush up and over my buns, continuing right up the back to the nape of the neck. Again a slight stirring indicated pleasure. He would slide his hand down again, over the butt, not probing, but sliding down the length of the crack before moving on down the inside of the thigh. The slightest parting of the legs at this stage was all that was required for encouragement. The hand would move up between my thighs to check out my balls. If I then lifted my hips slightly he’d reach under my body to find my cock. Finding a hard cock to go with the bubble butt would get him up on the bunk real fast. To me it was all so good, and so exciting, that once he was up I’d let him take charge. Very soon after I started going to the baths, not long after I’d been sucked off for the first time in fact, I decided that I would never refuse any man who wanted sex with me. I got a hell of a lot of attention, it would have been easy to develop a superiority complex, so many gays did. But I went for sex, with as many men as possible: white, black, brown or yellow. I reckoned that any man who climbed up to join me on my bunk was paying me a compliment. If he found me attractive and wanted my body, I gave it unconditionally, except for fucking, it was too painful, and in spite of trying it never got any easier. They could use my cock, balls, finger my ass hole, tits and mouth. I’d hold my balls up to be played with or sucked, spread my cheeks to be rimmed, open my mouth for their cock or their tongue. Of course I could only come for one man, or at most two, each night, but I was up-front about it. If I had already come and wasn’t ready for more, or if I had just arrived and didn’t want to come yet, I’d tell him. Not one of them ever left the bunk without giving both of us a lot of pleasure.

The third level was up out of reach from the floor. Guys went up there to rest, maybe even sleep, recuperate before joining the action again. On a quiet night it was possible to sleep on this level, but when the baths were jumping there was no peace even this far up. There were nights when I needed a rest too. If the flight out had been very rough, the weather bad, a full let-down to the limits in strong winds and rain or snow, that could leave me drained. Not so drained that I wouldn’t go to the baths: but after an hour or two, when it was getting very late by my body clock, I’d need to refresh myself. That’s when I climb to the third level. But on a busy night guys would climb up the ladders even to this height, reaching into the dark recesses to feel for bodies, like a snake checking out a burrow. If they found warm flesh they’d slide on in. Yes, there were times when I really needed a rest, an hour, even thirty minutes would have been great, but then I’d feel a hand on my ankle. I’d spread my legs and in a few seconds my cock would be in another warm, wet mouth.

The fourth level seemed to be reserved for those who wanted privacy. Not that it was exactly private, but up there a couple of guys could have sex and enjoy themselves without interruption. The top level was always occupied by men who came in together, they knew what they wanted, went straight up the ladder and got on with it. I don’t think I ever saw a man climb up there on his own, always in pairs. I met quite a few guys in the baths that I really liked. (One was a male nurse. I’d really like to be looked after by a gay male nurse if I had to go into hospital! I’d take a long time to recover.) With these men I would go to the top bunk, we could make love up there, as opposed to just sucking and fucking. The bunks were wide and long, there were the sights, sounds and smells of sex all around and the added excitement.

To be continued...

Posted: 02/27/09