Bathhouses in Another Land

Waking up around 8am, the first thing I did was to enjoy several hits of the sticky black hash purchased yesterday, followed by taking a luxuriously hot shower. Back in the room, I took stock of, then resorted my supplies. Which included condoms, joints, cash, poppers, and a variety of maps.

The weather was grey, but dry and not too cold for late October - the previous night had been comfortable sitting near the entrance of a bar, allowing plenty of fresh air to push away all the tobacco smoke. Having plenty of time to explore the city before any bathhouse would, I looked through my collected information.

In particular, paying closer attention to the gay oriented map that had been put in my bag, along with a couple of free condoms, at the shop where I had purchased a selection of poppers. Which are perfectly legal to own, both here and at home (online ordering does not attract me in the least, however).

The map was more or less blue and pink, with a number of ads. Including an international section, with a large ad for the big city sauna I had visited last spring. A bathhouse which had introduced me to the pleasure of fucking a man in a leather sling while we shared hits from his bottle of rush, lost in the rhythm as my cock slid in and out of his hot ass.

Sprawled naked on the bed, studying the spread out map, I found the location of the more 'aggressive' sauna, ironically basically next door to my hotel. Very convenient compared to the efforts required last night, enjoyable as the evening in a new foreign city had turned out to be. This sauna opened at 1pm, giving me plenty of time to wander, eat lunch, followed by a bit of relaxation in a nearby coffeeshop before visiting my second bathhouse in two days.

Entering at the street level entrance, I saw a narrow staircase in front of me, a gate placed at a landing about 2/3 the way up. The fat joint I had smoked just a few minutes ago was starting to have its effects, so it took a moment to find an actual buzzer, then waiting before opening the gate and walking the rest of the way upstairs. Where a bit more waiting was required before the final door was opened.

This new bathhouse already had a different feel, much like the other big city one. However, the same question about having been here before needed to be answered before paying and getting a towel and key. After undressing, I took a quick shower, dried off, and returned to the bar. Talking a bit with the bartender/attendant, I commented how much easier here was to find compared to the other sauna. Also remarking how he seemed to be alone, which he chuckled at, replying that it probably violated a labor law or two.

The number and variety of visitors here was notably higher than at the other bathhouse, providing a certain international feeling that seemed more fitting for a large port city. Exploring after drinking my beer, I saw the sling - better, but only adequate, at best. The cabins were fairly large, facing each other in a short corridor, with a large darkroom behind them, filling half of the rear space. The other half was filled with a large porn area, with 4 or more broad levels to recline on, and a number of men sprawled around, though none close to another viewer.

Upstairs, there was a whirlpool, an L shaped lounging area with maybe a dozen recliners, and a steam room. Both the whirlpool and steam room were quite hot, with the steam room essentially a space with two plastic benches running its length, the least sexually inviting steambath I've encountered in a male only sauna.

I returned to the bar area for another beer, getting nicely buzzed as the conversation turned to discussing mixed saunas and bathhouses, and the differences between mixed and male only facilities. The man at the corner was interested about my experiences with my wife, including the quite real boundary between adults being naked, with an unavoidably sexual element, and actual sex. He appeared seemingly honestly unaware that a male/female sauna would not have things like darkrooms or slings, somewhat sheepishly confessing that his experiences had only been in male only spaces.

Admittedly, the country I was visiting, while not prudish, does not share the enthusiasm for public nudity (well, not exactly enthusiasm, but it is beyond tolerance, and appeals to a number of people as being natural) that tends to be a characteristic of where I live.

About to finish my beer, I saw two men walk in, one roughly my age, the other one younger and Asian. They collected their towels, after being asked about any previous visits. They answered in English, much as I had before. The stream of incoming visitors seemed consistent, with a certain mood already being shared, possibly because several of us were clearly stoned, most of us were drinking, and all of us were interested in sex with strangers.

Returning to the whirlpool, showering briefly, I stepped into the whirlpool, close to the single man sitting in it. He was roughly my age, distinctive, possibly Turkish or Iranian. The whirlpool was octagonal, with him in one section, and me sitting in the one 90° from his. I looked at his cock in the water, seeing the bush around it, looking at his face in profile before letting my body settle, legs spreading until my foot lightly touched his.

By now, I had begun to play with my cock. Getting hard, I looked over to see him doing the same thing, his eyes centered on my stroking. We watched each other for a while, both of us obviously enjoying the sight of sexy cock. Then his left hand moved to my thigh, first lightly caressing, and gradually becoming insistent in pressing my thigh to move it. Our feet still touching, I shifted my other foot to run softly along his leg.

Finally, his hand touched my cock, making me moan in release, and move my right hand to his jutting cock, looking closely at his reactions while exploring his horny dick, fingers gliding over his glans. Soon, we were jacking each other off in a mutual rhythm, the upstairs area still mainly empty.

We both turned our heads to watch the recently entered foreign pair walk up the steps, both men taking off their towels as they reached the top. Our expressions undoubtedly betrayed our interest, not to mention what our hands were doing, both of us being unable to resist looking at a couple of new swinging cocks as they passed by, adding to our whirlpool pleasures.

The water finally became too hot for me to tolerate, particularly after having almost cum several times, and being on the edge again. My cock was extended when I stepped out of the water, then showered in deliciously cold water, only slowly subsiding. I went into the steambath, whose entrance was just two steps apart from the open shower, and could barely see through the steam.

The space was even hotter than before, but it became easier to endure, at least in the short term, when I the apparently American couple inside, kissing, cock to cock. They seem unconcerned about being observed, but also uninterested in any group fun. I stroked myself a few times as they rubbed, holding each other tightly, grinding their hot cocks, then left, a bit overheated.

I showered again, took my towel from a recliner, dried off, then went downstairs to the porn area, naked, towel in hand. Several other men were in a similar state, naked and horny, something quite acceptable here. Something I certainly enjoyed, one of the reasons a bathhouse is such a delightful destination, as the variety of ages and types mixing so freely in mutual satisfaction gives lie to the idea that attractiveness is merely a matter of appearance.

A number of men were in the porn area. The movie was of a threesome, quite hot, making me decide to spread my towel on the lowest platform in the front, and enjoy the show for a while. Stroking myself hard slowly, I noticed several other men had done the same, though everyone remained separate. And no one seemed to be using poppers, something that beckoning me to indulge them. When the scene changed, I returned to the bar, drank another beer, and noticed that an hour and a half had already passed, though the interval had felt much shorter.

My mood reflected how easy it was to float in a sexual sea, noticing just how horny the other men at the bar were, not just myself. Especially the kissing pair, the one I could see with a jutting rod barely covered by his towel. There was also other less physical socializing at the bar, talking about saunas in general again.

A man exchanged his towel, prompting me to ask the attendant if that was routine. He said it was, asking if I wanted another towel. Considering how damp mine was, I said yes, then took it off at the bar, the cool breeze making my exposed cock stir. After putting on the new one, I explained that my customary bathhouse did not have such a custom, though I could imagine asking for a second towel. After spilling a beer, for example. Which I had noticed that people here carried pretty much everywhere, including the porn area

Another thing I had noticed were the mint bowls, something unrecognized at the other sauna (my guess had been stones for decoration in a large cut glass dish), though what they were became apparent after seeing a couple of men take and place a white disk in their mouth - something like King Pepermunt. Neither bathhouse offered any prepared food, but here, drinks were certainly being enjoyed in a steady flow, not just an occasional beer.

Now in a perfectly intoxicated state, I walked back to the sling, sitting down, stroking myself, then opening the bottle to take a deep hit of rush. No one came by, and after a couple of minutes, I walked through the apparently empty darkroom, entering the porn area. Sitting, I played with my cock for a bit, looking at the hard cocks around me, my towel still covering my mostly hard cock.

The porn simply wasn't that interesting. Walking out as I had entered, first through the darkroom. Followed by sitting in the sling again, getting hard while floating free, but never finding a really comfortable position. A cabin door closed, and as I sat in the sling, the sounds of male sex became obvious.

Horny, I left the sling, then walked past the occupied booth, where a thin gap between door and frame allowed me to see what the two naked strangers were doing. I stopped, hand going to my cock, watching how two men were getting each other hard. The fact that I was a voyeur was a turn-on. Especially as anyone looking at me saw a naked man playing with his hard cock, a man obviously aroused by increasingly obvious gay sex, making me an exhibitionist at the same time.

However, after a while, realizing I was also more or less blocking the crossway, it made sense to move into the cabin next to theirs, knowing that the younger Asian man was on his hands and knees, his cock hard as the older white man began to fuck him. Leaving the door open, I did another hit of rush, and took out a couple of condoms from my bag.

The sounds of sex were irresistible, and my cock was hard as I lay stretched, listening to, and also imagining, the sex going on so close to me. A man stepped down the corridor, stopping between the two booths, perfectly positioned to see into the both. I was stroking my cock, listening to the wonderful sound of slapping skin, knowing that the Asian man was being fucked.

In part because of his words - 'Fuck me Steve .. fuck me .. deeper .. fuck me .. fuck me Steve,' and in part because it fit well into my last view of their fucking. The man in the corridor shifted, coming to the entrance of my cabin, his hand reaching out to touch my eager cock as he put his knee on the edge of the platform.

He began to bend down as I watched, prompting me to put up a hand and say condom. Turning a bit, I opened a condom package, placing the lubricated latex against my cockhead, unrolling it. His mouth followed, and after the condom covered my cock, I reached for the rush bottle, cock sinking into a stranger's welcoming mouth while the pair next to us fucked.

The rush filled me with a sense of pure sexual energy, my cock being sucked so well by another man, whose stiff cock I was playing with. As the intense sexual wave from the poppers passed, I lifted my head to look at what was happening, and saw that a third man was stroking himself in the cabin directly across from us.

I heard the door of the cabin to the right open, uncaring that their fucking was over, at least for now. It was barely possible to resist cumming as I was sucked, but the change in atmosphere made it easier. When the man on the other side approached my cocksucking partner, naked hard cock in hand, the man sucking my cock shifted his attention to a more willing partner.

Truly, I was too close to the edge to continue, making this a perfect opportunity to shift location s I moved past a newly formed pair of horny men. Walking by the open booth, it was interesting to see the patterns on the platform, as the pair had clearly used some kind of oil during foreplay and their hot fucking.

I returned to the bar, even more surprised to see how much time had passed, drinking another beer before returning to the back area. I noticed that the cabin along the route to the ark area had a number of holes drilled in its outside wall, but no one responded to my signalling fingers as they walked by towards the darkroom space.

The door had been left open, as is my habit. I did another couple of hits of rush, making me feel extremely slutty. A passing man looked in, and seeing my cock being stroked, or perhaps attracted through the smell of the 'locker room' scent filling the space, he entered the cabin, shutting the door behind him. Though the gloryhole action had been a disappointment, getting sucked by a second stranger, after putting on one of the remaining condoms from my dwindling stock, was quite satisfying.

Especially playing with his cock after sharing a hit of rush with him, then shifting my position while opening a condom, following the latex down his shaft as my fingers moved it down his rigid length.

This was another confirmation of the universal attraction of a turned on cock in a Turkish bath. It has been a real revelation to recognize just how desirable a hard cock is, most definitely including mine. My bi friend had provided the first clue several years ago, when she asked about erections and age, something I had never thought about. My experiences since then show that a hard cock is something that others want to serve, and since my cock remaining easily aroused, probably due to my slutty nature, I have plenty of opportunities to indulge it.

The attraction of hard cocks is something I understand, of course, being equally under their spell, now starting to suck him off, as he took a hit from my well-used bottle, obviously experienced in its powerful charms. Making my decision to use a condom quite smart, as I knew just how tempting it can be to get off with another man without any concern of the future, lost in the pure bliss of the present. My memory of the early 80s, when bathhouses were being closed, remains fresh enough, for reasons that remain valid.

And yet, I can't resist enjoying the same fantastic mix of sex and drugs, even with the benefit of perspective. At least condoms are practical enough to prevent truly long term concerns, especially in connection with my wife, who more seriously terrified of AIDS than I, being 3 years younger, influenced by the reality of what happened in the wake of the fantastic freedom of the late 70s. Something I could almost experience, though it took decades before the opportunity of sex with other men presented itself.

Leaving the cabin, I returned to the bar, where the attendant/barkeep asked if I wanted another beer. I grinned, as did he, but I turned him down, before asking him about leaving and returning, something not possible at the first bathhouse I had visited. 'No problem,' he said, 'at least if you return before my shift ends.'

'Which is when?'

'Around 9,' he replied, making me laugh a bit, saying I was certain it wouldn't be longer than a half hour, the clock indicating 7pm, surprisingly late compared to my internal estimate. I had already spent 5 hours immersed in big city bathhouse life, enjoying the interplay of men, beer, porn, water, weed, sex, and poppers. Going down the steps after getting dressed, I knew that smoking another fat weed/hash joint at the nearby coffeeshop would be a perfect addition.

Leaving around 7pm, I returned to the coffeeshop, where I rolled a really big joint, enjoying the chance to smoke it without any concerns, feelings its effects fill me. An extremely small part of my mind was aware that this was becoming a true recreation of the 70s, with the pounding music in both the coffeeshop and the bathhouse adding another layer of enjoyment getting and becoming really stoned, ready to enjoy the male only company found in the bathhouse, filled with naked men as gloriously horny as me.