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Some things provide such a reliable sensation that in essence, I have been addicted since experiencing them the first time. Particularly in the cases of poppers with my first girlfriend decades ago, or discovering the pleasures of the baths in one glorious evening. Visitors to a male only sauna often enter a type of paradise undreamed of before experiencing the reality, a place of unimagined sexual freedom. Assuming that a visitor is at least the slightest bit interested in what sex with men is like. And very few men are truly uninterested in knowing what it is like to have sex without any women around.

Or to bring a camera inside to try to capture the experience.

Decades ago, a married woman introduced me to getting stoned and feeling a coil vibrator run over my jeans, cock stiff along my thigh as I helplessly moaned, louder than the porn playing on the large screen, combining several earlier pleasures with a new sensation that was instantly captivating. Much the way poppers had been, the first time I used them, my first girlfriend and I stoned as she went down on my cock after taking a deep hit from the brown bottle, unbelievable sensations of becoming a hard cock filling the universe. Talking so dirty, amazed at how I had turned into a total suck slut, hands along the sides of her head, slowing her mouth’s motion into an eternity of sexual bliss.

Pornography in its many delightful forms is a constant thread through my sexual life, starting with the chance to grow up in a golden age of pornography, with its ever expanding boundaries as I grew older. By the early 80s, adult bookstores were full of a variety of porn, including gay orgies, and even the more occasional MMF porn.

The woman who had so successfully introduced me to the joy of vibrators was married to a man with a varied collection of porn, some of which I watched, at his wife’s sultry suggestion. The first eye opening experience involved his wife and I smoking a couple of her pipe’s generous bowls – for some people, weed is a true accessory to incredible sex. It certainly is true in my case, whether getting stoned with my bi friend naked at a local lake, or smoking a bowl before getting unstoppably poppered up at the bathhouse, involved in cock sucking, or playing with a vibrator while watching hot porn.

I had already experienced gay porn, including a magazine with a dildo using threesome whose memory remains a major turning point in my sexual life. But now, stoned and horny, I lay back on the wide basement sofa as his wife slid a VHS cartridge in, opening with a threesome, one that clearly turned both of us on as she reached for her not really hidden toy, rolling against me as she turned it on, sliding it over my already stiff cock. It was no secret by this point how much both of us loved what was actually her husband’s toy, as she had explained when introducing me to the cock cup attachment, different from the round multifingered attachment she used herself, which smelled so wonderfully of abandoned female orgasm.

Now though, watching a man suck another man’s cock as a naked woman touched herself onscreen was something at a different level, reaching late 70s decadence, getting really stoned and getting off on gay sex. A level that turned out to be just one further step on a continuing path of sexual discovery. Her husband only smoked hash, which had grown uncommon by the mid 80s, though in very rare instances, I was able to acquire small amounts, easily divided so he and his wife could indulge in kinky nostalgic pleasures. I know that they did, particularly after the first couple of times, as they left the door to their downstairs room open, allowing me to hear and jack off as they had sex. Unable to resist the voyeuristic attraction, turned on by the sound of people I knew getting each other off.

Including her sexy stoned begging for him to finally make her cum with the vibrator, then hearing her mindless moaning as her pussy and ass was buzzed with a ‘twig’ attachment, clearly satisfying her fantasies of double penetration. This toy attachment was reserved for his personal games to turn her into a total slut, an attachment that she had described just before introducing me to the cock cup, explaining how coil vibrators could be so versatile, and if I would be interested in experimenting more with one.

Even after many months of getting stoned and sharing porn and a toy with a married woman, it was shockingly dirty and exciting to discover their private pictures, encompassing several binders of Polaroids. And not only of them, but of a married friend of theirs, one I had often gotten stoned and drank beer with, who did not shave and rarely wore a bra – or even panties, depending on how hot the weather became in the humid summer. From that point on, my interest in creating porn was embedded, if only as fantasy. Involving memories of how good it felt to cum watching a man suck off another man, knowing it was another man’s favored porn, his sex toy feeling so good as canlı bahis I watched. Or jacking off to pictures of the two of them playing with the vibrator, including sexy cumshots, looking at her spread cunt as she played with her husband’s hot toy.

I have taken pictures of my first girlfriend, along with my natural and vibrator addicted wife, but working in public, so to speak, was something else. Creating an awareness of just how fantastically erotic it is to be involved creating anonymous hardcore gay porn with another horny man. Pictures, like the stories, that are shared, providing a look inside the life I lead as a true bathhouse slut.

Taking pictures is has also set deep hooks into my desires, particularly in terms of bathhouse experiences. I am not a very good fiction writer, to be honest, though placing real elements together with fictional ones is certainly within my talents. And even the stories written immediately after the experiences, enjoying a beer and a bowl, coming down from the intense intoxication that such total sexual bliss creates, are a melange of memories requiring a certain amount of work to be fit for reading.

Writing from pictures, even when only of maybe a third of a visit’s action, provides a certain check on reality. Especially after taking a 4 week pause from the baths, these pictures coming from my second to last visit, at the end of September, provide a welcome framework. Providing reminders of things that had faded, almost intentionally considering how tempting they remain when occurring. Such as how well he had cock teased me into rubbing my naked lubed cockhead over his willing ass, after having already finger fucked him more than once, taking his cock deep into my mouth as a slick finger played with his hole. The time stamps also provide a record of how long we’d had sex, providing a bit of scale when looking at more than a half hour’s worth of hot male sex, with 5 or 10 minutes missing at a time.

In this case, there had already been maybe a quarter of hour of explicit fun in the porn room. We met only a few minutes after opening, having had just enough time to drink a beer before heading upstairs. The porn was erotic, involving a threesome, prompting me to quickly spread my towel, starting to stroke on the top row. After a minute or so, starting to get harder, another man entered, looked up, and started to watch the porn, hand already under his towel.

My attention moved between the movie and him, approving as he exposed his extended length, soon followed by moving to sit near me. Sliding my right foot out, it was easy to find his leg and start to stroke it. He responded eagerly, hand sliding along my thigh as we began to move closer, already enjoying the sensations of getting truly hornier with another man.

It was at this point I began fumbling in my black bag, finally getting condoms and the poppers bottle out. My fumbling was not helped as he started to play with my cock, making my attempts to keep the camera discrete somewhat futile. We quickly entwined, jacking each other off, his tongue sliding over my neck as I began to play with his nipple.

At the baths, finding such a quickly satisfying sexual connection is one of the many irresistible reasons involved in becoming a regular patron, even when this cannot happen every visit. For example, the times I get sucked for at least a half hour until filling the cocksucker’s mouth with hot pumping cum, like the very last visit, involve something different than the sort of sexual connection which happens when you end up kissing passionately, cock to cock, filled with desire, pleasuring another man, enjoying the chance to share years of experience having passionate sex with other men, without ever cumming.

We were often completely focused on each other, but at times, I couldn’t resist watching the gay action playing in front of us, stroking myself as he pleasured me. Including sucking my cock more than once, so good that I didn’t dare use the poppers for fear of cumming, as he kept me so close to orgasm. The action onscreen having passed its climax, two of the three men having cum, he suggested going to a booth, right after taking his mouth off my glistening cock. One he called a “monster” in a certain fashion, one that just made me even hornier.

“Fuck yes” was about the only thing my mind was capable of saying to his suggestion, so we entered the porn booth opposite. Barely able to spread out towels before embracing, our lips and tongues re-exploring in abandon, grinding cocks together in moaning bliss. We continued this intimately horny re-introduction with the door still open, neither of us all that caring about privacy. Nonetheless, when he indicated a desire to close the door, I quickly agreed, already knowing what I wanted to happen next.

As he lay down, I bent over, and took the camera out of the bag, telling him that I really get off by having pictures taken of me having sex with other men. He agreed to make a set as I went down bahis siteleri on him, though the start was a bit hesitant, as he did not know where to press. I had planned to do a hit of rush first, but now was so close to cumming when starting to go down on his naked cock that for a second time, the prudent decision was to wait for a less tempting opportunity.

The flash let me know that he had discovered how the camera worked, making things harder for the photographer, using my mouth on his naked cock. Along with teabagging his shaved balls, my finger continuing its explorations of his pulsing ass, something first done while watching porn with him in the porn room. The picture timestamps show it taking two minutes or so to take 2/3 of his cock deep into my mouth.

At this point, he handed me the camera as he stroked his slippery cock. I was kneeling between his spread legs, cock hard as we began to enjoy some more male to male contact. Including rubbing our cockheads together, feeling the slipperiness of spit and pre-cum mixing into an intoxicating lubricant, one being shared as our cocks kept sliding. Soon, he reached up to play with a nipple as I rubbed my horny cock against his balls, dirty thoughts floating in the background as he jacked himself off.

“Do you want to fuck me?” I heard while burrowing my hard length into his sack, making me moan in helpless desire. I reached back and found the lube, handing it to him while saying “condom.” He opened the lube, spreading it along my shaft, making me moan, hearing him talk about how such a monster cock needed special treatment, getting lost in the slippery sensations as he played with my length. Surprisingly, I kept taking pictures, revealing just how far I let myself be tempted. And much like how after repeated exposure to so many willing strangers going down on my bare cock I now cannot even imagine using a condom, as the same process seems to be occurring in this decidedly riskier area too.

Nonetheless, the pictures stop for almost a 1/4 hour, a time during which orgasm remained tantalizing near, far too close to think about opening the poppers bottle. By this point, having located a condom, though still allowing myself to be seduced into rubbing my cockhead against his lubed hole, aware of how easy it would be to just start fucking him. Something he was apparently aware of, though when I managed to say “condom” while pulling back, he allowed me time to put it on over my lubed shaft.

In part because he really did seem concerned about the size of my cock, though in a definitely mixed fashion, talking about how I needed to go slow as he began guiding my cockhead past his tight ring, then moaning louder about how I needed to still go slow while he started to push against me, taking my waiting shaft deeper into his tight hole, his moaning no longer understandable as words, even as his actions revealed what a willing bottom he become.

Soon, fully inside him, it was amazing how good it felt to be fucking such a tight hole, listening to him moan about my monster cock as I fucked him, causing me to groan about how good it was to be fucking such a long hot ass with my big horny cock. We went through more than one cycle of me getting hard, almost cumming, then getting softer before starting to pound him again. I had become totally mindless, barely aware of how he poured some more lube on my cock before starting to pump him hard while playing with his slippery hanging cock.

Becoming his top, hands on his hips, using the camera, looking down at my cock being willingly taken by an experienced bottom, one who was now being fucked by a rod that had likely attracted him from the first time he saw it. I remain amazed at how many people seem to find my cock sexy, but now riding the man underneath me on his hands and knees, there was no question he was loving my length sliding back and forth in his tight ass, spreading his cheeks so I could go as deep as possible, thrusts pushing him forwards while I kept jerking him off, hearing his moans.

Finally, we stopped, both of us having reached a certain point of satisfaction, without cumming. This is one of the more interesting realities of sex at the baths, as experienced visitors know that orgasm tends to limit the potential fun. Balanced by the reality that there are a certain number of men who seemingly care nothing about their partner’s wishes, just wanting to make them cum as a way of apparently adding notches to their tally. Learning how to ride the waves at the bathhouse includes figuring out the best way to navigate such possibilities and alluring traps.

Yet, once one has mastered a certain level of bathhouse self-control, the pleasures just grow until they involve hours of male sex. Almost cumming is like any other form of intoxication – you just want more, even as your mind grows fogged, barely functioning. Barely needing to, as I put everything in the locker except the poppers and a couple of condoms, followed by going downstairs to the steamroom.

I bahis şirketleri showered, seeing that the time was after 4pm, meaning I had likely spent 3/4 hours upstairs watching porn and fucking before noticing the time. The number of towels in the cubbyholed wall against the steamroom was encouraging, but I decided to sit in the whirlpool for a while. As it turned out, I spent maybe a minute before the central jet began its irritating fountaining.

As the shower area was empty, it was simple to spend a pleasant interval soaping my cock, enjoying how it got hard with my slippery hand stroking it in public. By this point, having become fairly shameless, at a level that probably would have surprised me before my first bathhouse experiences. It is true, generally, that the showers are not a place for sex. On the other hand, they occasionally are, in part because of such uninhibited displays. I may have been sucked only a few times in the showers, but I have seen a decent number of hard cocks there over the years.

With maybe half of those cocks belonging to men that had recently left the steamroom. This is one of the true cruising areas, even if things get too hot. Unfortunately, that is not a joke, but one of the main problems with a Turkish bath – it is not possible to stay in it indefinitely, regardless of how good the sex is. Though depending on one’s luck, particularly when visiting near opening time, the temperature is not too high.

This steamy and discrete sauna is probably the most reliably enjoyed area of the baths, where group sex occurs frequently, as sweaty bodies slide against each other. Bodies responding irresistibly to circumstances, as any repeat bathhouse visitor knows. The steam room is probably the most mixed visitor area of a bathhouse, at least in my experience, with the broadest range of ages and bodies. Many of whom quickly become engaged with each other in the steamy anonymity.

This ranges from younger men just discovering how hot sex with other men can be to decades long married men who have been been visiting the baths for years. Husbands unable to resist getting off so good with other turned on men, indulging in a freedom their wives would likely not understand. An understanding easily shared by the men they meet, having hot sex with each other.

Entering the steam room, showered and three quarters hard, the sounds from the back area made it clear that the rear space was in full use, in just the way so many men who encounter it cannot resist. Taking the more direct path near the door, I quickly became involved in a foursome, drawn in by both welcoming hands and mouths, feeling my cock being grasped as a stranger bent slightly, his lips closing around my nipple. Surrendering fully and easily to the feel of a second man’s tongue swirling over my ear. Reaching out, both hands quickly encountered erect cocks, one being sucked, as the foursome turned out to be a fivesome, with a cocksucker on his knees, initially obscured by the low light and his position between the others.

However, he was certainly not the only man with a cock in his mouth in the back, and it took only a short time before his mouth began going down on my cock as I started kissing one of the man whose extended cock I’d begun stroking. Fingers easily replaced the mouth at my nipple, completing my surrender into fully entering the shared sexual paradise of the other men. The baths are by far the easiest way to find such male only orgies, knowledge clearly shared among all of us in the back of the steambath. Becoming ever more intricately involved in pleasuring each other, all of us obviously experienced in having delightful male only group sex, unconcerned about anything but getting off. The simple reality is that it is much easier to meet men at the baths who know what men cannot resist than it is to ever meet women who have any idea what such sexual freedom means to a man’s satisfaction.

Odd as it may sound, this is not really about gay sex, as such. Some men at the baths are certainly gay, while others, such as myself, are distinctly bi (I may not understand homo-eroticism, but a hard cock is really sexy). A number of other repeat visitors have simply discovered the freedom that comes when only men are allowed into a space devoted to normally hidden male pleasures. Which the steambath most certainly is, enjoying my slick cock now being held against another man’s, his hand grasping my length against his sexy rod, starting to mindlessly thrust in rhythm to his skilled stroking.

Someone’s tongue entered my mouth as the pleasure from feeling another man’s cock touching mine filled me with dirty thoughts of cumming so good and hard in a hot wet flood, surrounded by other naked men having hot sex. I rode the sensations, finally taking a hit from the poppers bottle when feeling a new stranger’s mouth begin to envelope my wanting cock as he bent down, joining the original cocksucker. It had taken me years to realize that no one in the steambath cared about whenever a poppers slut opened their bottle. Especially considering how many bathhouse visitors cannot resist the opportunity to indulge in using such an easy way to make male sex so much more intense.

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