Proper worship

TERRY: 
I arrive at the bathhouse and get myself sorted out, and walk out the door of my room. I immediately run into an attractive guy, and he wants to go to his room and "put it in." I tell him I just arrived and I want to walk around; I'm really hoping that he'll walk around with me, that we can play some in the play spaces, and that we'll get to know one another a little. He's frustrated that I'm not ready to skip the tour and go immediately to pound town, and tells me to go do my thing and catch up with him later. I see him heading to a room with another guy within a few minutes. I wanted to play, but I really need a few minutes to orient myself, walk through the space, take a shower and a piss. I'm sad to miss out on him because he seemed hot, but that's how it goes at the baths - it's more relaxed than a one-on-one hookup, but also a lot more liable to swift change. You miss one, and another one comes along. 

I wander through the building. There aren't a lot of guys here yet this evening; I see a few in the pool outdoors, a couple in the showers, a guy in the sauna. I walk into the video room, and there are two guys leaning against the wall, stroking their dicks as they watch the video. I like the look of one of them, a handsome middle-aged man with curly brown hair and a goatee, and I stand next to where he's sitting on the bench, idly stroking my cock. I'm looking at him more so than the video screens. I like this particular move, partly because it violates expectations and makes guys uncomfortable - but mostly because it works. There seems to be a behavioral norm that says that everyone should stare slack-jawed at the screen and blindly grope their separate genitals; you do see some action in this space, but the hypnotic power of the glass teat (thank you Harlan Ellison! ) is intense, and you can occasionally see guys leaning around a genuine human being right in front of them, just to watch the screen. 

He reaches out and takes my cock in his hand. He seems surprised that it starts to swell immediately; I tell him of course it's waking up, he's paying attention to it. I pointedly lean toward him, my body language indicating that it's time for him to suck my dick now. I love negotiating physically like this - letting the energy of the situation make the connection for me - refraining from using my voice makes me much more sensitive to the nuances of body angles and eye contact, facial expressions and gestures. There's a dance to it. He sucks. I push into him, and he gags. He pulls off. We repeat this a few times, and I explain that the gagging is my favorite - and I tell him a little about why I enjoy it so much, how the throat tightens around the glans of my dick, the amazing sensation of all that throat slime. I tell him how to tap my leg to get me to pull out. I get the impression that even though he's neither young nor inexperienced, he's never had anybody do this to him before. We play around, and it's hot; he is enjoying himself, but clearly he's close to being over his limit. After a bit, I stop, and he sits back, making it clear that he's done sucking for now. I tell him how much I enjoyed it, and he says he had fun and he learned something new. I tell him I'm up for more if he wants more, and he says, "No, thank you" - he's had enough for the time being. He and I and the other guy sitting on the bench laugh a little. I tell him that I know I'm a lot to handle sometimes. 

HANK: 

I wander around. Another round of shower and a piss, a circuit of the outdoor pool, a path through the maze. When I go into the sauna, there's a tall lanky guy that I recognize from years back - he's been in Dallas I think as long as I have, and we've never been friends, but we used to go to the same bars. He's got a big mustache and his hair is shaved up the sides but floppy-long on top. I stand against one of the walls for a bit, and then he moves from the top bench to the bottom bench - a convenient place to suck dick - and I walk over to stand in front of him. 

He reaches out and tenderly kisses my cock, affectionately making out with it. He's in no hurry. I am... taken away. I find myself totally focused on the interaction of my cock and his mouth; he sucks, he licks, he nuzzles and tongues. I thrust, rocking my hips, stroking his hair and his shoulders with my hands. I close my eyes, and it doesn't matter where I am. I don't usually get this much intense disconnection from reality from sex, but I love it when I do. I am so often in a position of breaking in someone to do a new thing, teaching or explaining as I go, having to be super careful and very conscious of what's going on, that it's awesome to just relax and let a past master do his work. I keep pushing toward his throat, and I realize that he's expertly dodging - he does a thing with his hand and his mouth that makes it FEEL like I'm fucking him in the throat, but I can tell when I pay close attention, that my cock is just at the back of his mouth, and he's massaging it with his tongue, pressing it so that it navigates a tight space between his tongue and his palate. I express my delight - "You win the prize for 'Boy who does the best job of making it feel like I'm fucking your throat, without me actually fucking you in the throat.' " His skill and artistry is amazing. I keep wanting to shove it all the way in, and I keep pushing, and he keeps making these artful dodges. I'm almost more turned on by the way he's dancing with my cock like a bullfighter avoiding getting brutally gored, than I am by the sensations he's delivering to my penis - almost, but it's a close, fun race. 

I keep grinding; he keeps sucking. I hit my poppers, and offer him some, and we just keep going. I usually don't manage to get off in the sauna - so often, I get physically overheated before my sex timer is up, but I feel the orgasm starting to rumble up my body, and I shake and hold his shoulders as I cum. He keeps going... and I'm not sure whether to say that I cum for a minute and a half, or to say that I cum again... but there's another volley. I pull out, and he continues to gently massage my cock, giving it sweet little kisses and nuzzling it, then sucking more. I tell him that I certainly don't want to stop him doing what he's doing, but I've just cum, whether I'm counting it as once or twice, and it's really hot in the sauna, and I want for us to go to my room where we can lie down on a padded surface and keep going. He agrees. 

I lie back, and he gets back to work. We talk a little; I recognize him from many years back, from back when you could get a blowjob on the balcony at the Eagle. He and I never hooked up, but we prowled the same section of savannah. I've always had the impression that he was another lion - another sensitive, intense guy who walks around purposefully and makes things happen - I didn't expect him to make love to my cock for an hour like it was the center of his world. He pulls off from time to time, leaning his head back so he can get a good look; he praises it, telling me how fine and thick it looks, how good it feels. I'm not mad about this. Guys toss around terms like "cock worship" and "oral service" - but this man definitely makes love to my cock. He says as much more than once. I have left the door deliberately open, because I love putting on a show; a couple of times other guys wander in, but honestly I'm so focused on what's going on between his mouth and my crotch that I pay them little heed. One handsome muscular daddy-type guy comes in and spends a while with us, rubbing my chest and pinching my nipples as Hank works my cock and balls; I stroke his long dick. Eventually, he leans over half on top of me, and I have another little nonejaculatory orgasm, shuddering and sparkling as I deep-breathe my way through the sensations. I've learned to use the tantric energy work in situations like this - where the sensations are being delivered smoothly and I can relax and play with energy and breath, knowing that my cock is in good hands... and in very, very good mouth.

We spend a lot of time in a flow state - that place where you're focused, but relaxed, and the thing you're doing is beautiful and smooth. "A unique mental state of effortless engagement." Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, a psychologist, came up with the term and wrote the book on it - I highly recommend it. This video gives a very good brief overview.  

At one point, he pulls out and shakes his head, I'm guessing to clear his vision and get the sweat off his brow; I laugh, and he checks in, worried that he's done something wrong. I explain that it's just sheer delight - when he pulled off and shook his head, the long hair on top flicked sideways and brushed gently across the length of my cock all at once, like a swift kiss from a bird's wing. He presses the flat knuckles of his hand into my perineum, holding pressure against my prostate as he works the head of my dick as he sucks. Occasionally I check in with him, asking how he's doing a specific thing that feels awesome, or requesting something I want him to do. I get the feeling in the moment that there's not much I can do that would bother him; we're both having an awesome time chasing pleasant sensations through my body, and he's utterly devoted to my bliss. 

He has been playing around with my prostate through the perineum, rubbing and stroking the area at the base of my cock; I tell him point blank that he's welcome to put a finger or two up inside me, that I love having my prostate massaged from the inside as well. This begins a whole new round of awesome, with him stroking, rubbing, thumping, and thrusting while he continues to lick, suckle, and kiss. I do manage to talk him into letting me thrust into his throat some; it's not his favorite thing, clearly, or a thing that he does much - he gags and hacks, his throat squeezing my cock. Because I've cum already and I've had quite a bit of poppers, my cock is half-hard, it goes into his throat easily, and I tell him about how much I enjoy it, although I limit how much of that I ask for because it clearly is rough on him. I take over stroking my cock while he licks my balls and around where my asshole is stretched by his fingers. I hadn't thought it was going to happen, but another orgasm finally flashes in the distance, and then it's upon me, and I've been doing so much of the tantric deep-breathing and breath-holding that I must look like I'm having a gran mal seizure, my legs trembling and my body bucking as the cum squirts out on my belly and chest. He licks it up, using his fingers to get the little gobbets. This whole time, he's been leaning over the edge of the platform bed; I pull him up next to me and we lie quietly together for a while in the afterglow. I look up, and there's a beautiful body in a Doberman mask... it's Baxter. 

BAXTER: 

I introduce the two men, and we spend some time running our hands over one another, getting familiar. I suggest that Hank demonstrate some of his oral skills for Baxter, and he does. I tell him that he ought to put a finger in... no, wait, *I* am going to put a finger inside Baxter while he sucks. I massage his prostate in circles, back and forth, hard and fast, gently and wide. We do this for a while, and Baxter spends some considerable time being very, very close to orgasm but he keeps pulling back before he goes over the edge. I suck him a little too, and then he needs a break. I also need a break, a drink, a shower... Hell, I practically feel like I need to be soaked up with a sponge and squeezed into a bottle. I feel deliciously, bonelessly relaxed, sexually sated, drained, happy. Hank offers to join me in the shower and scrub my back, which I gladly accept because I love that kind of intimate body service - and to my delight it's an awesome soapy massage with his strong craftsman's hands, and I towel off in much better condition, feeling like getting back into mischief. 

I walk around, thinking I'll find Baxter right off, but he's nowhere to be seen. As relaxed and peaceful as I feel, I have no problem just wandering around. Eventually, I do run into him again - the dog mask makes him hard to miss - and he takes me to his room. He explains that he fucked Hank for a while; I am a little chagrined, mostly because I wish they'd invited me to join in or at least watch, but that quickly fades. We talk, and I remain puzzled that I don't know who he is. The hair on his legs is coarse and nearly black; on his belly and chest, it's finer and light brown. His cock is strong and straight with a big head; I suck on it and play with his body. He shows me scars from an abdominal surgery - I think at first it's the same one I had, but it's a different GI procedure, and I KNOW that I should remember who this is now, because you don't run into that kind of thing often, and I remember talking with SOMEONE about it.. but who? He explains that "all this" (pinching the soft skin over his hard belly) is actually swelling - it should go down soon, the doctor says. Once he explains, I can what he's talking about. His underwear-model body is tight and solid, the scars strong and distinct. He presses my finger into his abdomen with his hand to show me where an internal suture is taking its sweet time dissolving. 

I talk with him a little about Hank; about how awesome the preceding hour has been, about the intense and beautiful orgasms. There are guys who seem to feel like having your asshole penetrated unmans you as a top, but I am always delighted when I find a cocksucker who understands how to massage my prostate, without trying to make me feel like a bottom. It's a fine line. I do LIKE bottoming... but with Hank, I was still in a definite top mode, I was just also getting my butt-nut stroked. I tell Baxter that if he wants, I'm willing to switch things up, and bottom... for him. 

He wants. 

With all the conversation we've had (and we talked a lot) he's not rock-hard and ready to fuck. I kneel down and show him that I know how to DO all the things that I make the boys do - massaging his cockhead with my soft palate, swallowing repeatedly as I hold him in my throat, pushing myself down on him until I gag and spit up the thick ropy slime. He warms back up quickly, and I flip onto my back on the edge of the little platform bed. With the fact that my balls have been exhaustively drained, I have no urgency whatsoever - but it feels very pleasant to take him into my body. It's easy. Although I haven't been fucked yet tonight, the fingers Hank put up inside me have me loose and lubricated, and his cock slides home in a couple of strokes, and then strums across my prostate as he rocks back and forth. I have my feet up on his shoulders, and it's a bit jarring and surreal to look up and see the handsome but slightly sinister Doberman face looming above as he thrusts into me. We fuck like this for a while. It's leisurely, unhurried, and entirely pleasant. There are no painful or awkward moments. He strokes my thighs with his hands; I reach up and run my fingers along his muscular chest and lean belly. I've given up on worrying or trying to figure out who Baxter is, and I'm just enjoying the fuck. I lift my hips up by pulling down with my ankles, and I feel my pelvic floor shift and tighten on his cock. I rock my hips side to side, and then grind down hard against his groin. It's like taking what we used to call a Sunday drive - there's no destination, it's just delightful to be here, enjoying the ride. We're having fun making each other feel good. He's a fun and friendly fuck. After a while, I start to feel his pace quicken, his body draw taut, and he grunts and shoves as he unloads inside me. 

VERTIS: 

I wander around, get another round of shower and piss and fresh towel. I see Terry sitting in the little lounge by the door to the wet area with a couple of other guys, and I stop to talk. I ask him for permission to write about our experience, because the time hadn't been right earlier. There's another guy here, a strawberry blond, he has a look that might be German or might be Irish - a light red-gold beard, furry pale skin. He says that he's bored here a lot; he complains that he hardly ever gets any action. I tell him that the reason I get so much play, is that I go after it and make it happen; he doesn't seem willing to believe me, he thinks it's because... and he gestures at me, pointedly taking in my face and my dick along the way. We talk for a while. He says he's always found me hot but intimidating, which I find flattering, but it can make it difficult to figure out what to say next. He asks, quite respectfully, if he can touch my dick; I let him handle it as we stand there visiting. He talks about how massive my balls are, and asks if it's all natural; I tell him it's entirely natural, but not entirely normal; I explain about the hydrocele, and the three of us stand there playing with my scrotum like I'm an anatomy teaching dummy. I have Terry turn on the flashlight of his cell phone and show them how it transilluminates. Terry explains that he lives close to a hotel-bathhouse in Oklahoma, and he gets sex practically daily. Vertis is gobsmacked; he says that he tries and tries, but gets turned down, ghosted, ignored. He's never been properly fucked. I've seen him here - he's one of the guys who comes in and lies down on the bed in his little room, waiting for guys while he jerks his dick. I don't usually play with these guys; I have difficulty breaking in and making the connection, and a lot of them want to be fucked immediately without any cocksucking or warmup, which is difficult for me. So, I know I've definitely ignored him, and I explain to him why, how he can make it easier to connect. Vertis is a big guy; he towers over me by at least a couple of inches, but I notice that he often makes himself small, pulling his head down toward his shoulders, collapsing his chest and acting like he's going to get in trouble. He is heavy, but carries it fairly balanced over his body, so that the main impression is that he'd look hot on Game of Thrones; a big, bearish guy. I recognize what he's doing, posture-wise; he's taking up less space, he's doing his best not to impose. It makes me a little sad, because he's naturally built to be imposing. He doesn't seem comfortable owning his body. He tells me that he makes the occasional connection here when somebody sucks his dick, but he rarely gets any action. He's sad when Hank stops by on his way out and we have a good long hug and a kiss to say goodbye, because Hank is often one of the guys who will stop in at his room and suck him off. Baxter stops by as well, on his way out - now that he's gotten off, he is done and ready to go. I tell him that I would say I was sorry if I was sorry, but that was awesome, and he agrees, hugs me and heads out. I make a decision, and I invite Vertis back to my room. 

I start by properly introducing him to my dick. I put him on his knees, and show him how I like it sucked - he gags and splutters as I fuck his mouth, but he learns fairly quickly. He has some difficulty taking it as deep in his throat as I want it, but that's not uncommon for guys who haven't done this before. I tell him, as he's kneeling at my feet with me gripping him by the skull, that this is advertising - do it with the door open. Suck dick where everybody can see. Make sure guys know you give good head, that you can take it in your throat, that you're keen. Part of my goal here with him, is to help him bust through that pattern of not getting any play, and the biggest part of that is being bold and audacious. I ask him if I can smack his ass, and with his permission I put a bright handprint on his butt cheek. 

I have him lie back on the bed, and I work on his ass. I get the impression that not only has he not been properly fucked, he may well not have been properly fingered. I start with one finger, stretching out his butthole with lube, massaging his prostate. He hisses with indrawn breath, his eyes shut tight; it looks like the sensation is new for him, and he's having to adjust. I work on his prostate for a while. He likes it, and asks me to do it again, and I do. I move so that he can grasp my cock, and then put three of my fingers into his hand, explaining that I've got what I call a three-finger dick; if I can get three fingers into him, I know he's ready for my cock. I suck him as I work the fingers into him, echoing the way that Hank sucked me, although he's nervous and it seems a little more like he's going through a scary amusement-park ride with a lot of surprise jump scares, like he never knows quite what I'm going to do next. I tell him about the tantric trick of moving energy up from the groin to the chest and the head; he's panting and writhing as I work on his cock and his asshole at the same time. He's self-conscious about his dick, which is short when it's soft; it looks like almost just the head lying against his crotch. He says he usually just lays on his bed and jerks it so that it's hard, so guys can see how big it gets; he says it gets to six or seven inches. Because of all the sensations and the mentally challenging situation, he doesn't get quite that big, but he definitely hardens in my throat to at least half-mast. I ask him if he's thought about just walking around the building with a brazen erection; it works for me. He seems somewhere between intrigued and baffled, but I can see the gears working in his head. I teach him about gag reflex and where it sits on his tongue; he's a very easy gagger, and he'll have to work on that if he wants to be a throat goat. I take two of his fingers and slide them into my own throat, swallowing so that my soft palate wrings itself across his fingertips like a warm wet washcloth. I had kind of hoped to get him off, but my real goal here was for him to have fun and experience a variety of intense sensations, and I think I've done a good job with that. Eventually it's time for me to go, and I send him on his way and pack up and head home.