I had never been to a bath house before. I stood outside on the pavement, nervous. My heart raced with excitement, not just from the thrill of visiting a spa for the first time, but also from the thrill that I was about to meet him.
Who was he? His name was Trevor, but his profile name was Trix. We had been chatting online for several weeks. Everything about his profile drew me to him. He was handsome, fit and mature. He was some twenty five years older than me, but we shared a connection when we chatted. He had sent me several pictures of himself. He had a slim body, not particularly muscular, but something a man of 45 years could be proud of. He clearly worked on it. He was tanned, 6 feet. His chest was smooth and his pubic hair shaven. I looked once again at his photo on my phone. A photo of him posing in speedos, pulled down enough to see he was shaven, but not enough to see his cock. He was a tease like that. Whenever I asked about his cock he would reply "one day you will see it for yourself".
I wasn't sure when that day would be until this morning he sent me a message, "I think it's time for us to meet."
We couldn't meet at my place, my parents would be outraged. They knew I was gay, but there was no way they would allow me to host a man more than twice my age. I was nervous about meeting him anywhere else, I'd never met a man online before. It was then he suggested we meet at the bath house in the city.
My relationship with my boyfriend had recently ended. We'd been together a little over a year, but he was immature. I now longed for a man, not a boy. Someone who knew what they wanted and how to get it. That's when I met Trevor. I desired to meet him from day one, but was too shy to ask.
I glanced down at my phone again. A message from Trevor. "Level 4, at the bar."
I pushed open the door and walked inside. I fumbled around for the admission and headed to the locker room. I quickly undressed, my cock already semi hard, and wrapped a towel around my waist. I stood briefly in front of the mirror and looked at my reflection. I reassured myself, he will want me. I have a slim body, well defined and smooth. Surely 20 year old guys don't offer themselves to 45 year old men every day?
I entered the bar and there he was, in the corner sipping on his drink. He smiled and waved me over. He had a drink waiting for me.
"You're even better than your photos," he said.
His voice was deep, almost gravelly. He could be on radio with that voice. I was lost for words, just staring at his chest. His skin was tanned, his pecs defined. He had a flat stomach, no six pack, but I could tell he was fit. He could tell I was nervous.
"What do you say we finish these drinks and relax in the spa?" he said. I nodded quietly, still admiring his body.