My Sauna Adventures 1

This is my story. It's all true.

My name is Chris. I am a married man of 49 years old. My wife, Cathy, and I never had children, not through choice, but careers just got in the way. Careers, holidays, life, really. We don't regret it. I work as a management consultant, and before you judge me for that, it's just a job. Actually, I'm a partner, so it's worked well. I travel a lot with work, which you will see comes in handy for me. We live in Yorkshire, but I spend a lot of time in London. At the weekend I play golf, or watch my beloved Sheffield Utd. I have a lot of friends. My marriage is happy.

I've kept myself in good shape. I'm six foot tall, a little belly (I live a good life) but broad and muscular enough around the shoulders. I started thinning on top, so shaved my head and grew a beard. It works for me, dark with flecks of grey in it. I get looks from women when I go out, and occasionally men. However, I'm usually with Cathy, so nothing ever happens. I am faithful. Sort of faithful.

We still have an active sex life. I'm good in bed, apparently. Cathy and indeed every girlfriend before her have enjoyed many satisfying moments. I enjoy my sex life, but I always knew something was missing. I am very dominant in the marital bedroom -- Cathy loves it. I know I'm either compensating for something or I just have the most massive switched up sexual identity. I thought about it for a while when my adventures started, but not anymore. It is what it is, and I am what I am. Who cares about labels?

See, the thing is I absolutely crave cock. You saw that coming, didn't you?

It started about five years ago when I succumbed one night when drunk and went to a sauna in London when I was there. Pleasuredome, I think. Actually, I think it started about 30 years ago one drunken night with a friend, but I'm not sure that counts. I'll tell you about that in a moment anyway. It was sort of sweet and horny and eye opening.

Anyway, five years ago I plucked up the courage to revisit my urges and visited the Pleasuredome. I spent about two hours inside and came out absolutely buzzing. I can still remember the erotic rush I felt even just handing the money over at the entrance. I was so nervous, but didn't quite believe I was there and excited to be so. The guy asked if I wanted a tour and I declined. Not sure why, I wandered about lost for about half an hour. I think I was shy. Imagine. With what was in my mind? Shy?

Getting undressed and wrapping myself in the little towel that first time was almost worth the entrance. I was so ridiculously buzzed and horny. I recall there was one other guy and I watched him undress and fold his clothes and put them carefully in the locker. He was an older guy, not at all good looking and carrying a bit of weight, but I wondered if I would be having sex with him later. He wrapped himself in his towel, turned round, we avoided eye contact, and he went into the main part of the complex. My heart was pounding as I was stood there naked, but for the towel that I had to hold up to stop it falling to the floor. It wasn't too long before I didn't bother holding it and just draped it over my shoulder. I like to be looked at.

I should explain the 'being looked at'. My own cock is nothing spectacular. I would say it's definitely a grower and Cathy has always moaned on it suitably. I would say average. It's not that I am particularly interested in guys looking at however. I want them to like my ass.

When I played rugby at school I was always embarrassed about my bum, well actually my whole body. Other boys were seemingly shaving and had these hairy arses at about fifteen or so, but mine was always smooth. Smooth and round. I hid it as much as I could (ironically often with a towel) and stayed out of the showers. I knew my bum looked like a girls and I hated that. To this day, it is still smooth, white, and round. Now, I love it. It appears there is a certain type of man who just really gets off on my sort of backside, and that's what I want. Funny, so many girlfriends loved it too. I had one who would always joke that she wanted to get a strap on and fuck me, my ass was so pretty. I really wanted her to, but, you know, didn't want to seem gay. As an aside, I did fuck her in the ass many times, and she was a big fan of that.

Now is probably a good time to tell you about the starting sweet moment with a friend. We were drunk, went back to my room in halls of residence and drank more. We shared a spliff and sat on my bed. It's fair to say I was confused. I had the whole expectation in family and friends and my own that I would have loads of girlfriends and eventually stay with one as a wife, but I thought about boys as much as girls. Well, we started talking about sexuality and my friend said pretty much the same. We talked about "Would you kiss a boy"? "Would you suck?" "Would you give or take?" I said I would kiss, but lied and said I wouldn't suck, and I would definitely give. Both lies but I didn't want to seem, well, gay.

We kissed. It was nice and I was hard very quickly. I unbuttoned my jeans (button up jeans -- Levi 501s no doubt) and he pulled his down and for the first time we both touched another man's cock. I remember it well, as that was my wank bank go-to for a long time. We kissed and we awkwardly tugged at each other. It was lovely.

It was lovely until he came. It didn't take long and he shot all over my hand, leg and his hand and my cock. He immediately pulled his hand away from me, denying me the same release and started to pull his jeans up. "Fuck." He said a few times. Then mumbled that he gotta go. He left my room with his cum still warm on my hand. I was stunned and embarrassed, but I still licked it. That memory gets me my money shot these days still. We never spoke about it, and he started avoiding me and became a bit of an asshole to me. And I thought I did denial. He's married now with a million kids. I wonder if I'll ever bump into him in a sauna someday.

So, my story is that I have lived in denial for my whole adult life and bar that one drunken fumble my entire sexual experience has been with women. I'm largely okay with that and I have been satisfied, but as I said at the start something has been missing and eventually, I needed to scratch that itch. Scratching made it worse, however, and I now find myself living a double life. One that I never expected. Happily married, and I mean that, most of the time and a bit of a slut in saunas, or steamrooms when I am travelling with work and can get away from the endless dinners. I do not regret it and I have worked through my guilt. She will never find out and I will never leave her. This works. Except for one thing and that brings me to you.

I need someone to talk to about this. Apart from that one moment in a university dorm no one I know has the faintest idea about this and I need to talk about how it makes me feel and what I want. I need to tell someone about my desires and how strangers sometimes sate them and sometimes can be very unsatisfying. I need you to be my friend in the pub, my mate, maybe even a lover who I have settled with and can talk about a former sex life. Whatever, I need to talk about this and when I found Literotica, I thought, this is the place. I also liked a couple of the stories. Gay and lesbian do it for me, by the way.

So who are you? I wonder. Are you like me. Possibly with a wife upstairs as you scroll gay sex stories on your phone. Are you maybe a woman who enjoys men with men. Perhaps you are a fully-fledged out there gay man, married or dating or celibate or living your best hoe life. I would love to know. If you feel like telling me, I think you can in the comments or even email. I my mind there is a little fantasy that someone reads my story, sends me a message and we hit it off and somewhere down the line become occasional lovers. He encourages me to express myself more and more so he can read about it... You get the drift.

Back to that first night in the Pleasuredome. I hope after all that intro and build up you aren't expecting that I was suddenly involved in some hot and heavy gang bang. I wasn't, but it gave me a taster (pun absolutely intended) and I knew I would be back.

I left the changing room and showered. A young guy was also in the shower, but he wasn't interested in me. He had a lovely body and say me watching him. He was toned and soapy and it was all gay porn for a second. He stretched and washed his cock a lot. I causally soaped my body and made sure he could see my ass. He dried himself and left, giving me a smile that said "nice for an old guy, but I can get whatever I want". I also dried and walked around.

First, I found the bar and had a needed gin. I was shaking and pumped with adrenaline, and I loved the feeling. I felt naughty and curious and new and oh so excited. A TV was on, showing the news, and I sipped my drink among a few other men talking to each other. Absolutely no sign of anything erotic there.

I wandered deeper into a maze. The lights were dark, and I could hear grunting from behind cubicle doors. It felt seedy and erotic and animal. I brushed past a short bald tattooed guy, who felt my ass through the towel. (I hadn't got the stage of just carrying it quite yet). I felt a surge but walked on. I didn't think that was some sort of move or reason to stop. I went to the steam room and sat there as naked men also sat there, some talking but no sex. I left, slightly wondering how sex was ever instigated between strangers in this place. I was having fun though. I was getting off on the very idea that other men would see me and know that my presence there meant I was available for sex. And I was. Frankly I wanted someone to fuck me. And I wanted to put a cock in my mouth for the first time. The first didn't happen that night, but the second did two times.

I walked past an alcove place in the maze and made eye contact with a guy who was lying naked inside. I stopped and looked at him. He looked up and was stroking his cock. He was clearly just keeping it hard and I imagined was waiting for someone to join him. He was slim and hairy and about my age. Nice looking.

"Want some help with that?" I asked.

He nodded. I knelt to the left of him, put my towel to one side and reached my hand over as he removed his and put it around his cock. It was so hard, and I was dizzy with just touching it. I knew what I wanted to do, but had no idea if I could do it. I didn't even look at his face I just stared at his cock, vaguely aware of his breathing as I stroked.

I looked at him in the eye as I moved my mouth over him, after stroking for a minute or two. I wanted him to see me wanting to suck. I slid it between my lips slowly and savoured the taste. So very distinctive. So horny. I pushed my head down as far as I could and gagged a little. But even gagging felt good. I bobbed up and down, sliding my lips tight along the shaft. In a move an old girlfriend did on me, I wrapped my thumb and forfinger around the base of his shaft and moved it up and down with my mouth. On each descent I tried to push the cock further into my throat. Each time I succeeded and each time I gagged. I was loving it.

I dd that for a few moments. Lost in my desire to pleasure a strangers cock. It was a weird feeling -- I wanted him to cum very much, but I also wanted not to stop. He did, when he lifted my head in a surprising moment of tenderness.

"Where do you want me to cum?" he asked.

"My Mouth."

I returned to my work and a few strokes later her duly delivered. Only then I realised that he had his hand on my ass the whole time as he squeezed hard in his orgasm. He moaned and grunted loudly. I was bizarrely very pleased with myself. I stopped sucking and made my movements gentle, but ensured I could swallow every drop. I sat up on my heels and looked at him. He didn't run out of the room.

"Thank you." He said, a little awkwardly, but not weird. I smiled. Then I got up, draped the towel over my shoulder and walked back out into the maze. I hoped he was looking at me walking. I imagined he was and thinking that next time he would just do that.

I did the "want help" trick one more time. This time he was standing in a booth thing and playing with his semi. He was short and pretty fat and hairy, I think Turkish or middle eastern, and I got on my knees in front of him and sucked on his short but think, musty cock with my nose going into a thick bush of pubic hair on every bob. It was a very sordid thing and I was wanking myself as I was doing it. I knew what I loved to do and frankly I had realised quickly I didn't have any level of discernment when it came to cock sucking.

His load was thick and plentiful. I didn't realise there was such a difference, but this trickled down my chin when I had finished. You guessed it, I loved that too and wondered in that very moment as one man's cum was on my chin if I could ask someone to give me a facial. My transformation was happening quickly and I was in love with the new liberated, slutty me. We didn't speak when I finished. I just got up and left.

I wondered around a bit more, looking for a third, but it was late, and the place was quite empty. I was also tired. I walked past the middle eastern guy again and he was still there, still playing with a semi. I half considered a round two, but though better of it. I needed to get back to my hotel. I had work the next day.

That first night I didn't get the anal discovery I was craving, but I learned a lot. A lot that I liked. The discovery would come a little later.

That was my first adventure. I feel so much better for having shared it. Honestly, it was pretty horny to relive it and I'd like to think you enjoyed it.

I did feel guilty after that first night, but that subsided after a few days. At no point did I think confiding in Cathy was a good idea and I lay in bed beside her knowing I was going to lead that double life. It doesn't make me much of a better person, but I swore to myself I would be the best to her I possibly could. I decided the little things that I bickered about I would let go. Make me not an asshole? No, but my fate was set and I had to reconcile somehow.

My next adventure was not for another month...