Bathhouse Steamroom Rush

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Two Thursdays ago, I’d almost been fucked, the thought intriguing me since. The man whose sexy cock I’d sucked off after much mutual delight said, among a number of things, he was a regular Thursday visitor. Meaning that for the first time in my years of enjoying anonymous gay sex, I was actually hoping to meet a man. Not that an actual date had been fixed, of course. Or that we could miss each, having sex with strangers in different areas of the sauna, as we were both sluts who loved sex with men.

I arrived several minutes early, with another man already standing at the door. He rang twice before asking me the time. Not having a watch, I said still a couple of minutes before three, based on the car’s clock and how long it took to walk to the sauna entrance. Another man was behind me when the door was opened, and we went in, paying in turn.

After changing quickly, I ordered a beer, then headed upstairs with my black bag. The level was completely empty, with uninteresting porn playing. My exploration even included the maze section, being extremely careful not to run into anything.

Going downstairs, I made sure the camera remained discrete on the lounger before going to the shower area. One man was in the Finnish sauna, but apart from him, no one was downstairs, apparently. This was starting to become a bit strange, considering the steady stream of visitors, even if apparent evidence showed that belief wrong.

Before putting the camera and poppers away in the locker, I went upstairs, finding it empty. An unfortunate circumstance, as the porn of three men rimming, two rimming the other in turn, was extremely exciting. Recalling that part of what had made my last visit so memorable was getting gloriously rimmed, in several positions. The porn portrayed a scene I’d never imagined, though it was seductively appealing seeing it happen on the screen, laying on a platform naked, playing with my extended cock, door open for any man to see or enter.

Without hearing even a step the entire time. After the rimming transitioned into fucking, I took up my towel. Wrapping it poorly, as generally customary, I went to my locker (and yes, I’d laughed a bit when I saw the number was ’69’), putting away everything but two condoms and a packet of lube.

Downstairs, at least a few towels were in evidence. A couple of men were sitting in the fountaining whirlpool, whose splashing seemed worse than normal.

Two men were in the dry Finnish sauna birch benches on their towels, with a couple of towels sitting in the cubbyholes. The steam room was quite hot, though comparatively dry, I noticed. One man was near the entrance, another on the left rear bench corner, with an almost couple in the middle. Heading towards the dark section, seeing a man at the entrance to the shower, the sounds of extremely explicit sex were coming from the back.

Cautiously entering the dim passage, the presence of male lust growing enticingly erotic. One if not two groups, apparently, figures resolving in my adapting sight. A pair, though motions and sounds continuing to make me believe a third man must have been involved. I walked around them, getting hard, slippery wet sounds still making me wonder about cock sucking.

Or fucking, though their darkly illuminated face to face stance made it unlikely, even if other forms of pleasure were easy to imagine. Both were fairly equal in height, matching my Çankaya Escort own. Touching my swelling cock, I swept an arm slowly through the dark corner. Finding no one, I began to watch from the blackness. The dim light let me see their kissing and thrusting, wrapped in steamy darkness. Returning approximately to where I’d started, deciding that truly, the two men were alone. Meaning that their sounding like 5 horny men getting off together was truly unusual.

Including its effect on me, moving coyly closer, shadowed bodies humping cock to cock. The man to my left easily reached out, quickly finding my cock. Sighing, moving a half step, left hand sliding over his chest, the space filling with an unusual scent, or its lack, different from the usual perfumed note of pine.

The man on the other side joined in, his hand running over my chest. My other hand began to fondle his smooth ass, soon going around his thigh, fingers feeling his sack. Both men were playing with my cock, the one on the right having licked his finger before centering it at the tip of my cock. The intense pleasure bordered on pain, until he spread pre-cum over my cock head, changing the sensations away from their sharp focus.

Stroking his cock along with the other man’s, feeling his hand withdraw, I heard the sound of someone inhaling. Followed by the first time I’ve ever noticed rush from smell alone. Admittedly, this was a poor environment, the heat and humidity taking a real toll on a bottle’s potency. Realizing that poppers could be used in the steamroom, my immediate response was to bring their stiff cocks together, knowing that no experienced poppers slut was going to do just one hit. And wanting to share.

My left hand rose to play with the nipples of the man with the bottle, as the other man stroked my length, his grip tightening in rhythm with his cock sliding between my fingers and a stranger’s hardness. Staying like this until the temptation to cum subsided enough to catch another wave, hearing the bottle being opened again.

For the first time in all my years visiting these baths, I was experiencing what it must have been like at a gay sauna in the late 70s. The same era I discovered rush with my first girlfriend, having read about ‘locker room aroma’ in Playboy. Overlaid with later learned attendant cautions and concerns, even if they were barely affecting my lust here. Though the two condoms in my left hand, and the wrist key, were starting to interfere a bit as we caressed each other, jacking off. Leading me to start sucking his nipple, hand roaming over his ass.

The other concern was whether poppers were allowed here at all, something as uncertain as using a camera. But much like taking pictures, not getting caught was a valid solution – and they weren’t my poppers anyways. Further, upstairs is a place where poppers are used everywhere, so it isn’t as if poppers themselves were a problem.

The man I’d been jacking off moved away, my free hand quickly finding the other man’s sexy cock. My fingers circled its shaft, guiding it towards an open mouth, feeling a stranger’s wet lips begin to go along another stranger’s rigid rod. My own cock was sliding over the sucked man’s sweaty thigh, impossible to resist as I lightly chewed at his nipple.

My hand had been pushed down pretty much the entire cock length, leaving just enough Keçiören Escort space for my circled thumb and forefinger to change the skin tension along the sucked man’s throbbing shaft.

Of course temptation overwhelmed him, ending my wait. Moving his left arm over a pressed head, I could hear and feel him twisting the cap off. He took several hits, and before he closed the bottle, I put my head near his, hand running from his nipple down his arm. Pausing, he shifted a bit, bringing the bottle down as I started licking his chest, only noticing it after starting to breathe in.

My decades old style of using poppers is to inhale once deeply, holding the hit in as long as possible. With the added option, shared with my first three girlfriends, to kiss the other person as they breathed in or out. Both individual large hits and kissing to share them tended to extend the lifespan of a bottle’s intensity. Along with preventing spillage, a relevant concern when fucking, rush being best when only inhaled, without liquid contact.

Here, part of a male threesome, taking a deep breath was impractical. The fact he held the bottle in place, even as his hips began to move, made it easy for me to follow apparent bathhouse custom, breathing in and out several times. As did he, again, both of us losing control at the same entrancing rate, utterly intimate and hot in that irresistible addictive style that rush creates between turned-on sluts, male or female.

We were jerking each other off in a triangle, cocks illuminated enough from the opening door to capture our attention, looking down at the sight. Enthralled by the obvious proof of just how much we loved getting off with other naked men in the baths. Past a certain point, it becomes impossible for a man to conceal his true state – and unquestionably in my experience, other men get turned on at the sight of an openly displayed erection.

The sexual intensity became thoroughly uninhibited, particularly as another set of hands began to touch me between my legs. I’d started finger fucking the pulsing ass of the man with the poppers, somewhat registering that a fourth man had approached us from the left, against the passage along the wall. I felt his length slide against my ass, making me turn a bit, opening a space for him to fill while indicating my complete lack of interest in getting fucked.

A fifth man joined on the other side, entering from the passage leading to the door. I saw how his shadow moved as he reached across, feeling a new hand close over my dick as someone else began caressing both nipples. By now, any resemblance of mindfulness was gone. That had been expected, but the intensity was a true shock. An intensity beyond surrender, indulging in gay group sex with poppers.

The rush bottle was being offered to, and used by, everyone. Its effects were incredible, a form of orgy juice delightfully beyond my comprehension. Watching how completely it took over sexually, seeing a couple becoming purely animal in their lust as the scent’s magic filled their lungs. Knowing that I was the same, finally enjoying steamy group sex with poppers.

Doing another hit, cock to cock with a stranger, a finger touching my hole, a mouth sucking a nipple, I knew that four other men shared the same state. Left hand playing with a cock, the condom package precariously held Etimesgut Escort away from his shaft, the other hand pressing down on the back of the cock sucker’s head, losing myself completely in male group sex.

The cock sucker’s head moved to my cock, though it was possible to distract his attention. My mind remained just functional enough to recognize situations, and to refuse to continue when boundaries were reached. Condoms remain pretty much mandatory for any slippery fun, at least when doing poppers. I’ve become to slip a bit when getting head, in turn making condom use even more important when really losing control, as we all were.

The man with the bottle had already enjoyed getting sucked, so I opened a condom, moving my mouth over it as his swelled cock head was covered. I could hear him doing several hits, but after getting maybe half way down, he moved back, forcefully enough to keep my wanting mouth from returning. In the shadows, it seemed as if he rolled the latex back up, but left it on – making me think that sucking him again would be a possibility.

In the steamy warmth, our games were ever more explicit, the scent bottle filling the space with its locker room aroma. Ass fucking just added to erotic scene, my hand gripping the thick cock of the man being fucked, bareback. No one was using condoms, seeing the man with the bottle getting licked, condom removed.

Following the third time – and definitely not more the the fifth – enjoying the bottle’s magic, I felt my cock being sucked by the fourth man. The man with the poppers sucked my nipple at the same time, slowing down any reaction but blissful acceptance as the pleasure enveloped me. After several moments of pure enjoyment, I finally resisted the delicious temptation in the end, even as the feel of a bent younger stranger’s mouth going down on my turned on length filled me with desire.

Hand stroking my slippery wet length, just on the safe edge of orgasm, the other right hand holding two cocks together, watching both men share the bottle. Feeling its effects overwhelm them as they moved against my hand, feeling pre-cum flow. Then wondering, as the pre-cum spread, whether at one least one man had cum. And if so, whether to keep playing with the other cock, slick with a stranger’s semen.

After my fourth or fifth hit (or six or seventh), I noticed the man with the poppers step away, slowly moving unsteadily out of the steambath. Prompting me, also somewhat unsteadily, to sit on the bench. By now, several other men had become involved, making taking a break seem reasonable. Especially while jacking off, observed, no longer needing to be concerned about losing control with my jutting cock.

Nonetheless, another younger man approached as the nearby group continued to swirl, hand reaching down to touch my shaft, before squatting a bit. He began to fondle my balls, spreading his legs to enclose mine, sinking down to sit on my rigid naked cock, wanting to be fucked. Undoubtedly, the rush was effecting him, as it continued to effect me. The soft skin of his yielding hole touched the tip of my erect cock as my left hand reached down to play with his hard length, only slowly recognizing this was truly a situation to avoid.

Able to resist the offered opportunity, I rose after rejecting his unspoken offer, returning upstairs to the theater benches.

Where I spent a good amount of time jacking another man while watching porn, without leading to any complicated situations involving thinking about the longer term. It had been a memorable visit, though not merely for the pleasure – understanding truly just how completely addictive such fun could be.

And barely able to wait to return to the steamroom with my own bottle of poppers.

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