I had always been under the impression that a bath house was only utilized by gay or bisexual men looking for no strings attached sexual gratification from other gay or bisexual men. I'd seen porn videos of men walking around in towels, going off together into saunas and fondling one another, showering together and kissing, or giving each other anonymous oral sex at the glory holes. I felt like I had a pretty good idea of the ins and the outs (pun absolutely intended) of a bath house, given I'm a cis woman who would likely never see the inner sanctum of one and be left to only the conclusions my imagination and porn watching had left me.
I knew my boyfriend had visited a few local bath houses over the years and I'd asked him several times during sexy shenanigans about them, requesting to be told details about what goes on behind those closed doors, getting aroused at the idea of him being intimate with other men in this secret society. He described to me various activities he'd personally engaged in, which only served to further wet my appetite and that warm spot between my legs. During one of these candid conversations, I lamented that I wished I could have gone with him to see what it's like for myself, hungry to see him excited by the physical stimulation I'm unable to provide alone as a woman.
"Some of them have bi nights," he stated, in a subdued, quiet, matter of fact way that was in perfect juxtaposition to my own exuberant response of, "What?!? Seriously?!? And you're just now telling me this?!?" This wasn't a prospect I'd even remotely considered. I would never have thought to look it up because I would never have thought to DREAM it up. In my mind, a bath house was a club for "Boys Only, No Girls Allowed". I wasted no time after this revelation, doing research to find a bath house locally with an inclusive night. It became my MISSION to reach what had become in my mind the pinnacle of sexual feminine inclusion - being invited into a gay mens' bath house. It didn't take long and I'd found what I was looking for, an "Everybody, All Gender Inclusive" night at a local place - well local by Midwest United States standards, a 2 hour drive. My mission now had a planned date of implementation and I had a date as well, my boyfriend was eager to come along with me.
I'm not sure, of the two week wait from the time of the conversation about going to the date of the party or the two hour drive from our home to the bath house, which was longer. The build up to the day of was extraordinary and included some of the best sex I've ever had. My desire to tease and tempt and build the tension for him to make the final release, which I'd only allow to happen once we were in the confines of the bath house, was intoxicating. And tease and tempt I did, mercilessly. The night before, I made him make me cum, multiple times, by using his hand to rub my clit and between the lips of my pussy. Gently, just on the outside, just enough to feel how wet and warm and insatiable I was. I let him feel just enough to be aching for it, desperate to slide into my slippery warmness and find his release. And then I made him stop. I kissed him, told him I loved him, reminded him he'd get to cum tomorrow, and I rolled over and went to sleep. The next morning I got up early and left for work, coming home just in time for us to leave, giving no chance for us to slip into bed or get distracted on the couch. The whole ride we talked and sang along to music and laughed while I pretended not to know he was hoping we'd be discussing all the sexy schemes I had planned or that I'd at least be getting a little handsy with my excited anticipation. I could have played along with that, but keeping the tension high and the mystery brewing was too enticing to resist.
We walked in together, him leading the way as he'd been there before and knew where to go and what to expect. The place was not what I had expected, but I wasn't surprised either. I wanted to expect some swanky spa-like experience but with the reality of it being men in charge of creating a space for other men to go to get down and dirty - the place fit the stereotypes you'd fall prey to with those defining characteristics. It was run down, it was dark, it was dingy, it wasn't the cleanest, and the mattresses they had on the floors were in some of the worst shape I've seen mattresses in. At one point I did blurt out, "The things men will tolerate..." as I walked through the narrow hallways in my sheer purple plaid laced up lingerie. The hosts made up for any shortcomings in the ambiance though with their affectious personalities. They greeted us with welcoming demeanor and large white towels, "You can wear these, or not (with a coy little wink), and meet us upstairs in the event area. There's a larger space up there where we will all sit and play some games, eat some snacks, and drink some beer and wine. Here let's give you the tour on the way!"
