Arriving near the bathhouse entrance around 3:45pm on a wonderful Sunday afternoon (a day much like today - and the temptation to take another short ride to enjoy myself is exerting a growing force), anticipation creating the familiar feeling centered around the middle of my body, a strangely addicting sense of building tension, through and through sexual. It was more spring than February, and a good day to ride, as a motorcycle requires regular use to keep the battery in good condition, along with the need to let the oil spread over the parts that may no longer be covered in the motor. The weather allowed me to visit my bi-friend's apartment, where she was cooking lunch with another woman - gnocchi, spinach, small balls of mozzarella, a bit of fresh garlic, ground pepper, other spices, topped with eggs at the pan's corners.
Having already eaten, and aware of my unannounced presence, it was simple to politely decline several invitations to join them, two spaced between the start and end of mixing a cake dough (8 minutes to mix the basic ingredients, then a half minute for each of the 8 eggs - layered with two bars of dark chocolate). They worked together in an interesting fashion in the tight space of the kitchen, but not one that conclusively answered any of my speculations. They worked well together, certainly, but that isn't the same as being intimate partners, though it also tends to indicate a certain familiarity.
The other woman seemed in her mid-20s, about 10 years younger than my friend, who in turn is 10 years younger than me. It even had a certain bathhouse feel that way (since I reasonably assumed that my friend would have enjoyed herself at least the night before, though I didn't get the feeling they had just met), a bath house being a place where a broad range of ages interact, in a number of explicitly sexual ways. Each of us in the small kitchen were separated by 10 years, with a total span of 20 years between youngest and oldest. And yes, I'll admit to speculating about how the two enjoyed each other sexually, since at least two of us were bi, and the other either bi(-curious) or lesbian.
We did briefly talk about a few things while their late lunch baked in the oven, but the combination of wanting to visit the bathhouse to get off combined with the need for politeness in terms of not making a misstep with a new (certainly to me) person in my friend's life had me leaving later than expected, though the bath house is just around the corner. And to be honest, there was just the tiniest idea that a threesome in the future was not exactly impossible, though that was something requiring much more than a simple wish. I have come to agree that men and women are different (though it may still be based on how we are raised) when it comes to casual group sex, and find the simplicity of group sex with men to be a very attractive part of going to a male only sauna, seemingly without restrictions on enjoying being surrounded by naked strangers who share similar interests.
Entering, the bathhouse was quite busy, unsurprisingly - the spring feeling weather just added to the urge to enjoy the day somewhere. Unlike most visits, a slower pace was required when undressing, due to the number of other men dressing and undressing, lockers open everywhere. This extended to bar service, though by this point, I couldn't stop from drinking my beer quickly - not only due to simple lust, but also due to the need to leave in a reasonable period of time to explain my absence. My wife knows of some of my interests, even sucking me off the first time I mustered the necessary mixture of horniness and courage to tell her what happened at an adult theater while stroking myself erect watching a video of two men getting hard and cock sucking while playing with each other's nipples - something she knows makes me completely slutty, being so skilled herself in turning me on that way.
Telling her about this sort of male only association would be a much more difficult step, though my bi friend does know about it. And also has agreed to provide whatever necessary cover may arise - such as being home, though often, when I stop by, she isn't. She has several lovers in the broad region, and is often driving between one and home, or spending the weekend at a lover's place. And my wife would not be completely wrong in her anxiety of disease - really, with rare exceptions, no else is using condoms there, much less using them consistently.
Thus making my first visit, more than a year ago, to what could be also described as a Turkish sauna, unusual in several ways - till now, both being the only time I was gloriously rimmed, with an especially kinky gay pleasure when sucking off another stranger in the dark after a glorious eternity of getting rimmed - this wasn't exactly my first gay group sex, but it was definitely the first time we were all completely naked in the warm dark. That he used a condom allowed me to easily go down on him, since after hearing the sounds of him opening and putting on a condom, there was no reason not to fill my mouth and enjoy getting a stranger off, knowing that he would be as incapable as I about resisting the temptation. And with a few recent experiences at gloryholes, condoms definitely no longer tasted the same as in the late 1970s.
I understand - oh, do I understand - the desires of an uncovered cock, and wanting to pleasure an uncovered cock. And I know why most men don't bother with condoms (I never taken off my wedding ring, nor have I ever looked for wedding rings on the naked men I have sex with, but years of marriage can accustom one to not needing a condom), but still - when you have sex with 5 unknown men in an hour, and then go back to enjoy a couple more (as I certainly have, more than once in the past year), following a pause in a jacuzzi or showering with other naked men, condoms are just a good idea, especially for current and future sexual partners.
The beer gleefully added its liquid note to my already extended buzz as I watched the monitor playing gay porn behind the bar. This being followed by the logical step to go upstairs to do a hit of Rush, a delightfully proven course in many past visits. At the top of the round staircase, a naked man was sitting in one of the chairs, his publicly displayed cock half erect in the unconcealing dimness. Walking back towards the theater area, noticing a man stroking himself in the first mirrored video booth, I looked in at the porn on the room sized screen. Not being too interested in what was playing, I reversed direction towards the dark area, hearing a couple enjoying themselves in a section of the corridor with 4 booths, leading to a slowing pace. The booths across from that one were empty, making this a perfect time to do my first hit of poppers.
I closed the door, took the brown bottle out of my cloth bag, and did a deep hit, my hand quickly encircling my growing cock, listening to the sex occurring so close by. Though a bit embarrassing to say even now, being a voyeur can get me really horny. Though in the dark of the booth pr theater, 'voyeur' is often just one step on the path to full participation in another location, as a group of horny naked men get each other off. Often first beginning with just a glance at the equipment available, quickly followed with just a second direct glance, or a light touch of skin, an easily recognized sign of interest, also easily ignored when matching interest is not there.
