Bathhouses in Another Land

Having a few days available this fall, and considering how easy it is to make online plans to visit a major city in another country, I took another step in my growing experience of bathhouses, recreating the 70s vibe to a fun extent, with weed, music, and poppers.

Though it did take a while to find the shop with a large selection of modern popper formulations. It was easy to buy several varieties of poppers, talking a bit about the sauna I planned to visit with the man behind the counter, who was quite helpful. After having the bottles bagged, the person that rang it up threw in a few condoms and a map into the black bag.

Saying goodbye, I went to the recommended nearby coffeeshop to enjoy a nice weed/hash blended joint, then took the metro to discover that the tram system was disrupted on the other side of the river due to construction. The bus replacement worked out with the help of a nicely tolerant woman, dealing with an obvious foreigner using an appropriate amount of amused good will.

Finding the actual sauna did take a bit of time, the area being a bit confusing, especially in my current state, including my half hard cock rubbing along my jeans, knowing that soon I would be in a male only sauna.

Finally discovering the address, I had to deal with the buzzer arrangement which seems to be universal at such places, though it has never been a barrier. The door unlocked, and after going inside, my glasses fogged instantly. Making it a bit difficult to see the bar area in front and to the right of me, a lounging area to my left, and the entrance to the locker area between the two. I took my glasses off while stepping up to the counter, noticing that towels were available behind the bar, as a older man greeted me, asking if I had ever been here.

'Not here, no' I answered, 'but several places like this one, though.' This didn't stop him from going through his accustomed introduction. Taking the key, I went to lockers, undressed, then returned to the bar.

A couple of other towel clad men were sitting there, chatting with each other as I drank my beer. The feeling was small scale, much like that of a bathhouse visited last spring in a much smaller town a good hour ride away. A realization that surprised me, this being the second largest city of the land. And yet, here was a bathhouse with an enjoyable local feel, as if men from other countries rarely visited.

Finishing the smallish glass of beer, I went towards the sauna area, a raised whirlpool to the right being the first thing seen after passing through the lockers. Showering, then entering the quite warm water, 3 men already relaxing in it. The nearest to me, and the youngest, maybe 25 if that, demonstrated how to turn the jets on. pressing a button behind him. As the bubbles rose, obscuring everything under the water, I felt him stroke me along my upper thigh. Returning the courtesy, we made each other hard, the other two men commenting about how my new partner's complaints concerning a lack of action were clearly no longer true.

The conversation was not really understandable, though part of that was my increasing focus on my hard cock. He had already pushed the button several times, and we had found a solid rhythm, our cocks close to cumming without any concern of actually orgasming. A basic bathhouse skill, and one that tends to be difficult for younger beginners to master, I'm sure.

The water was quite warm, and after the button being pressed numerous times, I had to leave. Further back, to the left, was a quite decently sized cold pool, which he jumped into, making waves splash onto the floor. I lowered myself in slowly, trying to deal with the coolness of the still sloshing water, much more hesitant. He turned towards me, a grin on his face. We were both half hard, and soon began rubbing cocks while kissing. Eventually, on the other side of the scale, the water simply became too cold for me to handle, even as our erect cocks pressed together perfectly. He made it difficult to leave, rubbing my cock as I used to the ladder to exit. Very slowly, unable to resist pausing as his hand gripped me, each step requiring a certain act of will.

Finally out of the water, I quickly showered in the area opposite of the pool, returning to the bar to have another beer, chatting a bit about bathhouses, one man remaking that the city's other gay sauna was more crowded, and 'intrusive.'

The second level was reached via a surprisingly grand staircase, which swept onto a large wall screen to the right, and 4 sofas to the left, obviously the porn area, though much of the space was empty, even with the furniture, that included side tables, and low tables in front of the sofas.

The section behind the staircase included some fairly small, not exactly private, booths in a central corridor, which opened onto a sling. One that was surprisingly uncomfortable and poorly made, the extended bolt ends rough and uncovered as I explored its disappointing potential in the empty space.

A disappointment easily balanced by the public gloryhole area, two panels in the darkness, one with two holes, the other 3. This made up for the disappointing sling - here were the first public gloryholes I had ever encountered, resembling ones seen in a picture from the late 70s in SF, with a man holding on to the holes to each side as he pressed his cock against the wall as deeply as possible, ass tight, obviously lost in pure male pleasure as a stranger got him off.

Sadly, the entire area appeared empty. Doing a big hit of not exactly old fashioned Rush, breathing out, I walked back to the porn, finding a place on the sofa, noticing that the other two men in the space were rubbing their cocks, not quite hard.

The previous movie was ending, and what followed riveted my attention. For the first time, I was watching glory hole porn in public, even if the public bathroom setting was not exactly my kick. Private porn booths have provided all my gloryholes experiences, though I did have some hopes about tonight, though dimming in the reality of the small number of visitors at 9pm on a Friday.

The porn turned into a group sex scene, as the glory hole became just part of the action, the cameras recording several men enjoying the fantastic combination of unyielding wall with wanting cock, deep in an unknown man's skilled mouth. By this point, thoroughly turned on by the sexy scene and the jacking off going on to each side of me, I stood, cock jutting, walking to the back, holding my towel.

Going outside of the central corridor this time, there was a gym horse, obscured by netting on three sides. I still have no idea what it could be for, but it worked well enough as a place to put my bag and towel before taking another hit of rush before going to the glory holes. Walking out of the space, I noticed a man going along the side of the stair case, hand underneath his towel, obviously stroking himself. Our glances met before I went to the glory holes, positioning myself behind the first panel.

It only took a moment before his hand found my semi-hard cock, making it swell quickly, obviously rising though I couldn't see it. This is just part of the thrill of a gloryhole, the absolute division into two sides, with the unseen side the one getting off, beyond control. I felt his breath on my erect shaft, his lips brushing against my skin. Pulling back, I put on the already opened condom, then slid my cock through again, knowing he was already kneeling, waiting to suck a horny stranger off.

Soon, in paradise, my sluttiness obvious to the cocksucker on the other side of the fixed wood panel. My entire body pressed against the wood, hips alone thrusting into his willing mouth, lips pressed, sliding perfectly along the length of my dick. My turned cheek was against the wood, my moans obvious even in the ear pressing itself tightly against the barrier, wanting nothing but his mouth to take me deeper.

A glory hole combines extremes in a uniquely male fashion, being my first introduction to simple male sex. Excepting my experience jacking off with a friend (plus a few times with a friend of his) during the 70s, the true glory age of Penthouse, Playboy, Gallery, Club, and the other all too accessible porn mags, just before the dawn of the video cassette.

This bathhouse clearly understood a glory hole's attraction, a throwback to the past of public male sex. Soon, my cock was pumping in orgasm, making me weak in the face of such irresistible pleasure, realizing again just how good a gloryhole could be for orgasming.

My arms still luxuriously stretched above my head, he appeared at the edge of light and dark, his cock in his hand. I quickly turned from the sexy barrier, easily squatting to put my mouth at the level of his crotch as my hand felt his easily 3/4 erect cock.

'Use a condom,' he murmured with seeming authority, amusing considering I was opening one from my black bag, particularly in juxtaposition to the fact of my never sucking a stranger's cock without one. It was true that this was a rare demand, though an easy request to fulfill, fitting my own inclinations perfectly. Risks have not disappeared since my youth, after all, they are just better understood than in the early 80s, much less the late 70s.

My response was well practiced, placing the condom end over his cock tip, fingers unrolling the condom's ring, tantalizingly moving the condom down, lips following the latex down his extended length. His panting a clear indicator of just how turned on he was as my mouth slid down his cock, unable to stop my mouth from sucking him off.

I love cock sucking, and took full advantage of just how horny he likely was after making me cum so deep in his mouth. My skills are well practiced - it didn't take long to have him fully in my control, sucking his covered hot cock. His grunts started just a few seconds before his jets of cum passed my lips, my teeth still sliding along his covered rod as he softened between my lips, the condom's end full of his hot semen

Afterwards, he stepped back, apparently to deal with his now cum filled condom. Something we shared, as my own sheath hung heavily off my cock. Both of us obviously having enjoyed our time in a male only sauna, finding like minded men for a pleasant evening in the warmth of streightforward male sex.

I soon left the bathhouse, catching a bus at a different stop. Walking back to my hotel, I stopped at a bar, spending a few hours talking, feeling a bit nostalgic as people smoked cigarettes around me, the bar being one of the few places in the city that was intentionally breaking a recent no smoking ban. Things change over time, but it seems certain attractions and combinations remain universal, whether tobacco and alcohol in a bar, or weed and rush in a bathhouse.