Before I get into my second adventure in a sauna, I'll tell you about what happened after my first adventure. I had been thrilled to taste not one, but two cocks and swallowed two loads.
I was absolutely buzzing. I went back to my hotel room and lay in bed with the thoughts and images and recent memories flowing through my head in an erotic slide show. I remembered little detail like the second guy putting his hand on my head and pushing my face deeper into his bush and his cock deeper in my throat. I was hard as a rock, and I wanked and wanked. I thought that after the first time I came I would have that post nut guilt that I'd known when always jerking off to gay thoughts or with a finger in my ass. But, strangely, not. I just still felt horny. I was a little drunk (who doesn't have a little false courage before a first visit like that) but I think I tugged myself four or five times that night as I drifted in and out of sleep and in and out of erotic, gay, vivid dreams.
When I woke the next morning, after a very broken night, I still was just impressed with myself more than anything. I had done it. I had experimented and the results were positive. In the back of my mind was a little voice that told me I needed to never do it again. The itch had been scratched. I believed it for a bit.
I worked in London and stayed for another two nights before going home. I forgot about my adventure as I facetimed Cathy, which was easy and also helpful. Not that she could have expected anything, but it was not on my face or in my words. It turned out I could be a decent liar, which I was less impressed about. A decent liar and as it would appear a decent cocksucker.
I thought about that. All my life girls had struggled to get me off manually or orally. For me it pretty much always took vaginal (or anal) penetration and quite a lot of effort. Two guys had unloaded in my mouth inside ten minutes each. Wonderful. Impressed.
When I went home, I wondered, as I entered the house, how I would feel about my actions. I didn't consider them infidelity, which was a strange way to think. If I had so much as kissed another woman I would have been wracked with remorse and self-loathing. Without trying I had completely compartmentalised and had made peace with myself. Or had I? Was I just in denial? I don't know, probably, but it worked. I didn't feel like the asshole I was being. Lying isn't clever and I knew that. But I also knew the truth helped no-one. I found a peace in that.
It also wasn't long after entering the house that I entered Cathy. I fucked her hard and threw her about, moving position and left us both panting and sweating afterwards. She kissed me on the cheek as we lay and said she'd forgotten how it could be when I'd been away for a few days. That was a moment for me. That made what I had done more okay than anything. Was I so sexually wired I wanted every sexuality? Was I fucking to prove something? Was I just driven by the guilt I wasn't feeling? I don't know, but the enduring reality of the matter is that my married sex life has never been better. For Cathy. Oh, I enjoy it, and maybe that's being with my best friend, but when I think about sex I think about a whole different experience.
So, I thought I'd scratched the itch. I was wrong. If I had scratched all I'd done was spread the rash. I wanted back. I wanted the whole rush of changing, showering, watching, being watched, a hand on my ass, a cock against me, in my mouth or better giving me what I had thought about for what seemed like a lifetime. I had never fully understood why I wanted to be fucked but I knew that was the itch that really needed scratched. I knew I'd eventually go back.
It wasn't for a few months, but I did go back, and I did (sort of) get what I want. I also got more than I bargained for.
I was in London again and out for drinks with colleagues after a long day. We drank pints and gin and by 10.30 or so I was getting a little drunk. The group was breaking up and I told everyone I was also heading back to my hotel. One of the others suggested we share an uber, but I declined. I said I wanted a walk. That was true.
I was also walking a different direction.
I'd been in the toilets earlier and just looked at the guy beside me and then at his cock as he took it out. I don't know why but just seeing it, being a little pissed and knowing the Pleasuredome was maybe only a 30-minute walk from that pub in Covent Garden triggered something in me. As we sat drinking and laughing, I was aware that I was a little less engaged and a little withdrawn. I was thinking cock. I was also debating what I should do in my head. It was the old angel v devil debate. Don't, wife, itch scratched, work tomorrow, late, be good, you'll regret it if you do on one side and on the other... desire. Lust. Cock. Need. You'll regret it if you never. I was always going to.
I walked with the adrenaline buzz again. I walked past people in the street and loved thinking that my goal was to get naked and get fucked in my ass by some guy I had never met before, and they didn't know. It was a weird sexy secret and I felt my own cock stiffen in my trousers.
I arrived, paid, and went to the locker area. It was a Thursday night and a little busier than the first time. I drank it in. Men of all ages and shapes undressing, some dressing (presumably after some adventure of their own), and what hung in the air was an atmosphere of sexual anticipation. I loved it. I opened my locker and just stripped. I felt free. I wanted to be seen naked, and being there, with a smooth round and very pale, hairless bum, by someone who wanted to lust after by backside and get hard thinking what they would do. It was intoxicating to make myself so obscenely sexually available. I knew some looked at me, just as I looked at the range of cocks and bodies on show. Sure, some guys were better looking and there were fat and thin guys, but I didn't care. I was not going to discriminate on looks or size. I was turned on by turning on, and I didn't care who. So weird. So not my heterosexual very choosy when it came to looks life!
I showered and started to cruise.
Despite being horny to bursting, and it being late, I wanted to savour the whole thing. Sure, the place was slightly damp (sauna after all, and there was a sauna and a pool) ad it smelled of a whole bunch of male smells I only found this assault on my senses to be building my excitement. It was badly lit, and dark in places. This time I took in more of what was going on. I sat in a room and watched some porn with guys all stroking themselves slowly, eyes fixed on the screen. I just wanted to stroke everyone, but wondered what the etiquette was. I didn't, but I watched these two guys in the corner making out and playing with each other. One was clearly on top and was squeezing the other guy's cock as they kissed. That guy had his hands round the back of the first guy's head, pulling the kiss close. I enjoyed them for a few moments. Their intimacy turned me on.
I left and wandered. I stopped and watched a bit as I passed an alcove, sort of padded area where I could hear moaning from. The hatch to it was open so I looked in. One young skinny guy was on his knees on all fours with his back arched and his eyes closed, head back as an older guy with a round belly was slowing fucking him. I accidentally made eye contact with the older guy and he just looked at me and continued to move in and out slowly as younger moaned. I watched for a bit and moved on.
I heard other cabins with moaning. I saw a guy on his knees giving a blowjob in the corridor, and again I caught the eye of the guy getting it. He smiled and I smiled back in what felt like a weird "hi there".
I walked past a darkened room, the dark room as it aptly turned out and could see shapes writhing and moaning coming from it. I wanted to go in, but I drew the line at that. I wasn't brave enough for that. Yet.
I had seen enough. It was time for me to find something. How? Turned out it was easy.
