It was a hot Saturday night in the summer of 1971 and the bathhouse was throbbing. A guy I knew from school at San Francisco State, had suggested the visit after we'd struck out with a couple of secretaries at Perry's Bar on Union Street. They'd teased us right up until closing time, then given us the slip. We found ourselves on the sidewalk as the bar closed, high and horny.
No big thing, though. This was San Francisco just as the gay revolution was beginning to fire on all cylinders. Like every other horny guy in the City, we knew we had options.
We smoked a fat joint as we walked the few blocks to the Geary Street Baths. We knew that once we got in, it wouldn't take long to find a guy willing to provide a high quality blow job. What we hadn't counted on was how busy the place would be. We would have had to wait for an hour or more to get in if my pal, Jeff, didn't know one of the guys working the reception desk.
Every one of the fifty private rooms was taken and we got the last two of the two hundred and fifty lockers available. The locker room is usually pretty quiet with just a few guys coming and going. Tonight, though, it was crowded and the action extended onto the benches facing the long rows of lockers. I had to edge past a guy kneeling on the floor giving a thorough, noisy, blow job to a guy standing with his back against the lockers. Watching made me even hornier. I changed out of my street clothes, wrapped a towel around myself and looked around for Jeff. He'd disappeared, so I made for the maze on my own.
Here is a little secret that a former girlfriend helped me discover: I like to get fucked. I remember the firecrackers that went of in my head when she stuck her finger up my ass while we screwed one night. Encouraged by my obvious pleasure in butt play, she got herself a dildo and did me with that. It was like a bomb going off. It wasn't much later, at a mixed party at somebody's house in the Castro, that I discovered that a guy's hard, hot cock was at least as good a pleasure delivery system as a plastic dildo. In the course of my sessions with guys I learned to like sucking cock. And I have to admit, that the average gay guy gives a better blow job than the average woman. So, stepping into the maze, I knew I was going to have fun of some kind.
It didn't take long. Turning a corner I found myself following a guy who's broad shoulders tapered to narrow hips. He was slim, and rather tall. "My type," I thought as I followed him, but in the back of my mind I was thinking that something seemed familiar about him. Which is why I was able to control my shock when he turned around and I recognized him.
It was Mr. Grigg, my favorite professor from school. He taught a history of culture class that was super interesting. We spent a lot of the class in heated discussions about situational ethics and their application in the real-world. I especially liked going one-on-one in arguments with him. He had the quickest mind I'd ever known, terrific command of an extremely broad range of topics and a devilish way of leading you to his point, despite your best efforts to find a chink in his logic.
He was also a good looking, very masculine guy, married to the co-chair of another department at the University. I knew that many of the women in my classes found him very attractive. I'd assumed that at least one of them, my friend Dana--the best looking woman in the class, by the way,--had gone to bed with him. So yeah, I was surprised to see him there. But pleased, too.
He was about 6'1, 185 lbs, very fit ,in his mid 50's and tonight, when he recognized me, he had that devilish, half mocking look on his face.
"I'd do him in heartbeat," I thought to myself.
I closed the few steps between us with a big grin on my face.
"Well Mr. Adams,' he said reaching out and gently tweaking my left nipple. "What a pleasant surprise it is to see you here tonight."
I felt a delicious jolt course through me and wasn't kidding at all when I sighed and said, "my pleasure."
I reached out a little and placed my hands on his belly, and slowly slid them up his torso. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the silk of his flesh, the heat. I felt a flush go through me, I felt myself surrendering to the sensuality of the moment, and, as I looked up into his eyes, I knew I'd do whatever he wanted as long as he gave me what I wantedβa hot, no-holds-barred man-sex session.
The glint in his eyes made me think he was reading my mind. He reached a hand behind my neck and pulled me into a kiss. I wasn't that in to man-kisses, until this one. This one just set my body on fire and I found myself returning it hungrily.
Time stopped. I'm not kidding. I don't know how long we stood there making out, I just know that my body was on fire and I was in the moment, loving the way his chest felt against mine, The way his hands pulled me close, the pressure of his crotch against mine.
"Come with me," he said, and I followed him to one of the private rooms. He let us in with his key, turned to face me and dropped his towel. The v of hair that ran down his belly ended in a trim thicket at the base of a long, thick, dark cock. I was extra turned on to see how big he was; I'd of been fine with a 5" dick, but it was better,--a lot better--to be looking at 7 or 8', half-hard. He was uncircumcised, a first for meβbut hey, I'd only been with like, three guys up to then.
I dropped my towel to let him get a look at me. No, actually, I was showing off. I've got an 8 1/2' dick with a big, fat helmet head and a shaft that's about as big around as a Red Bull can, and now it was curved up against my belly. I thrust my crotch forward, arched my back and stretched to my full 5'9". I knew I looked good--slim, muscular, and ripped from the gym, good genetics and the magic of being only 19 years old.
He looked me over appreciatively, then looked me back in the eyes. His wry smile was the same one he used in class. The one that acknowledged when I'd gotten in a good reposte to one of his arguments, but suggested that I shouldn't think I was going to come out ahead.
We'll see about that, I thought, and dropped to my knees. I reached out, wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and squeezed it firmly. Then I leaned forward and, making an O with my lips, sucked in his foreskin. Like I said, he was only half hard and the foreskin hadn't drawn back yet. I'd never played with foreskin before and knew that if I wanted to I'd have to do it before he got hard and it pulled back.
So I sucked on his foreskin and flicked it just a little with my tongue. He started to get hard almost immediately, so I only had a moment to slip my tongue between the foreskin and his cockhead, to enjoy the incredibly sexy taste of that hidden spot. I got a huge rush from it and I moaned, almost in frustration because it was so nasty but so transient. Then he was hard and I found myself licking up the underside of his long shaft, right up to his balls. I breathed deeply, savoring that sexy piss-sweat-man scent.
I had another big body rush from that and found myself thinking that even though his cock had swelled to maybe 9" long, it was slim enough that I ought to be able to take it all the way down my throat. And that's what I began to try to do.