Anonymous Fuck Blog

4/17/2026

I was genuinely shocked by how busy the bathhouse was yesterday. I had gone home, cleaned out (a grosser than usual process, but I managed), and got to Steamworks at about 5:50 p.m.—ten minutes before the higher evening rate kicked in. I don't know if this was truly anomalous or just the fact that I was there closer to 6:00 than usual, but there were three people in line ahead of me when I arrived, and a guy came in right behind me as well. This part is definitely anomalous: there was someone working both windows. Usually there's just the one. The guy I checked in with even looked inside my backpack, something that I can't remember ever having had done before. Granted, the guy who runs the place is who usually checks me in, and he's seen me many times; this other guy probably didn't recognize me and that may be what made the difference.

I was there roughly four hours before I got even a modicum of action. This often seems to be the way when Steamworks is busy, and the other guys there have a lot more options to choose from. Or maybe I'm just searching for patterns where there really aren't any. It had been shockingly busy on New Year's day too, and I got plenty of action that day. It made me think maybe I should come back every New Year's Day. I should mark my calendar!

Anyway. I suppose it's worth noting that I turn 50 in 13 days, and I am feeling old. Old and fat. I've been doing this long enough to know there is little logic to feeling this way, and plenty of younger guys are into older guys, although I do think I have detected a pattern of younger guys being more into guys in their forties than guys in their fifties. But again, I have no hard data to back this up. I'm just pontificating.

And the experience last night just wasn't exactly a boost to my self-image. It felt like there was simply no one there with any interest in me. Well, except for the tall, much older guy who tried to come into my room yet again, and I had to say "no thank you" so he would leave. (I guess I'm a total hypocrite. Except that, well, I am feeling like I must be getting observed by the average guy at the bathhouse the same way I was observing that guy. But what the hell do I know? I also still have this pervasive inability to be more assertive, and it's entirely possible that plenty of guys who would have happily played with me never did only because neither of us had the confidence to initiate.)

I did get a couple instances of voyeurism so hot that it may have justified the time and money on its own. At one point I managed to get inside one of the gloryhole closets that are three in a line, and two guys were fucking in the next one over. The gloryhole opening is big enough that it falls just short of the width of my face; its so dark in there that it takes some time for vision to adjust, and even then what you can make out is often only the slight outline of a pair of legs. What made this so hot was mostly the sounds they were making. The bottom was super into it, breathing heavily and whispering indistinguishably but still clearly very horny. I nearly came right there just listening to it.

Thursdays are "Boys' Night," when anyone 29 and under gets in free. There wasn't a ton of young men there, but there was a noticeable few—two of whom could easily have been around 20 years old, and I witnessed them noticing each other for the first time, giving each other a sweetly lingering smile as one walked by. I later saw them making out and fondling each other in the common play room that will apparently be converted into a new actual-sauna in the coming months, and I was one of several guys who gathered around to watch. There was even another younger man, clearly a bit older than them but way younger than me, and I felt a little better seeing how he clearly wanted to join in my also didn't have the confidence, even though he was objectively fit (just not quite as much of a twink). I really hoped we would get to see the twinks fuck, but, no such luck. After a while they got up and wandered to find another place, and in their wake the gathered crowd of maybe six or seven men immediately scattered like sheets in the wind.

When I finally got some action, it actually was because I took some initiative. I was back over by the same row of three gloryhole closets. There's a pathway between their doors and the south wall, and at the west end of this sort of hallway is a small bench. I sat down at that, just listening to more sounds of sex in the gloryhole closets, all three of them occupied. Pretty hot looking guys kept walking past, sometimes lingering near me. Then a shorter guy, he could have been in his thirties and looked like maybe he was Latino, was standing near me for several seconds. I reached out and felt his butt, and he was immediately receptive.

Soon enough he was on his knees and sucking me off, and this was how I got off exactly the same way I did the last time I was there: cumming down someone's throat. I'd have much preferred getting fucked, but that clearly wasn't going to happen last night, and I didn't want to have to linger much longer. (Perhaps ironically, I might actually have gotten the kind of action I wanted had I stayed later, but as I've already established many times over, I'm just not a night owl, particularly on weeknights.) Much like the guy who sucked me off the last time I was there, this guy was pretty good at what he did. He even kept my cock in his mouth for a couple of minutes after I came, and was so gentle with my cock that even with the tenderness of being post-orgasm, I was not overstimulated by it. Another guy came up and fingered his asshole while he did this, and that was pretty hot as well.

3/7/2026

My visit to the bathhouse last night was relatively short, only a bit over two hours. And instead of letting it end a bust, I allowed an older man to come into my room and suck me off. He was pretty good at it, and it still counts as me being slutty, and that's what matters!

I'm pretty convinced I would have had better success on Thursday. But, my husband and I have taken to doing different neighborhood Art Walks in our city, and there was on for us to do that night. It had been too long since I went to the bathhouse—my last visits were the two in the first half of January, while my husband was out of town—and I wanted to pay for this trip with this current pay period paycheck, and I already have other plans next week. So that left Friday this week.

I'd say I should really just make it a point to avoid Fridays, but there was another factor last night, which I really think actually made an impact. This bathhouse is in the middle of a block in the gay neighborhood of my city, and there's a shop on the corner of the same block. There was a huge event happening there, with long lines in both directions from its entrance, including down the block the bathhouse is on. When I walked down there last night, I got close enough to that store to see what the big deal was: there was some kind of release party for Harry Styles's new album. 

The line stretched so far down the block that I had to cut through the line to get into the entrance to the bathhouse. I walked through the line again when I left a couple of hours later. I wondered if those people had any idea what kind of establishment they were standing next to. And how many others might be too self-conscious to walk through a crowd of people to get into a sex club?

Which is to say, it was pretty dead at Steamworks last night. Now, to be fair, it could easily have been as dead without that line blocking the entrance and exit, especially considering how early I got there, before 6:00 so I would not have to pay weekend rates. But, Steamworks has also been surprisingly busy all the other times I have been there recently, so I have a feeling there might have been more people there without that crowd.

There was a smattering of other people in there, but only one or two that I was attracted to. At one point when I was in my room with the door open and lying on my bed, a very tall, older guy came in who had to be either well into his fifties or sixties and I was absolutely not into him, walked in and started trying to close the door. Usually giving subtle signals makes people go away, but not this guy. I had to sit up, grab the door from being shut, and say, "No thank you." As he left he said, "Good luck." He wasn't snotty about it, but I still wondered if he thought I might not have any luck. I don't know.

I did see two guys fucking at one point, in one of the common spaces. It was relatively hot. I got mostly hot by watching the porn on the TV in my room, especially when I found a station showing piss play. That surprised me; they don't usually show fetish stuff on any of the available channels. But then that one ended and they showed guys in very revealing superhero costumes and that really didn't do it for me.

I have a feeling the crowd would have picked up later, if I had just been patient. But, I had been waiting around a good ninety minutes when the guy who worked well enough for me came in and started sucking my cock. Honestly, I thought about what it would be like if I could port myself into the head of someone sucking my cock. I actually think it would be fun to suck my cock. My cock is pretty great. It's the rest of my body I get self-conscious about.

I did spend a good half an hour before leaving home, on cleaning out. It took a bit more effort than usual, and left me slightly worried about any possible accident should I get fucked later—even though by the end, my fingers were coming out clean when I stuck them up my ass to test. The worry was all for moot in the end, as was the cleaning itself. Still better to be safe about it, I guess. I have never once had any kind of accident of this nature when getting fucked by my husband, but I have been pounded far harder the he ever does it by men at the bathhouse, and that can make a difference.

Still, there's something about an orgasm from getting head when the person knows what they're doing. It can be very different, a physiological sensation that cannot be achieved with any other kind of stimulation. It feels less like getting over a hard threshold, and a little closer to the sensation of urinating, but still a clearly defined orgasm. And it's very satisfying. The guy told me to have a good evening when he finished.

1/16/2026

I returned to Steamworks last night, the rare case of visiting the bathhouse only two weeks apart, and it was the most spectacular sexual experience I've had in recent memory. I got dicked down by two different guys in one night! When was the last time that happened? Hmm, let me check my records: August 7, 2019. Getting to be bottom-slutty with multiple cocks in one outing is among my all-time favorite things, but it's been six and a half years.

And here's the irony, part of the lesson I can never seem to learn about my own insecurities as an aging and soft-bodied person: I headed to Steamworks yesterday thinking to myself about how I'll probably have to resign to topping (I never did have to do that last night), that I'm aging out of being attractive to people, that I've gained a couple of pounds recently. And, get this, I went back to look at my post about that August 7, 2019 experience, and I actually wrote this six and a half years ago: "I had another great experience with no disappointments at the bathhouse! It was starting to feel like I'd never get another one again, making self-doubt creep back in. Am I getting too old? Too fat? Both long-ago established as stupid questions."

Christ, I must sound like a broken record. In my defense, I do think the break in bathhouse visits precipitated by the pandemic is a part of this. I suppose I might feel a little more naturally confident now had I been as consistent with my visits all along, but my final, pre-pandemic (technically it was well into the beginning of the pandemic) bathhouse was in March 2020, the very month everything shut down—it was a Sydney bathhouse, where I was fucked by an Irishman with a stellar ass. I did not return to a bathhouse again until June of 2021, 15 months later. And nearly five years after that, I have never returned to the same kind of regularity of visits I did pre-pandemic, when I would go typically once a month. It would appear that in the calendar year 2025, I went a total of four times. Now, I also had a new outlet a couple of times, "Naked Night" at a local bar, which my husband and I went to several times, though only two or three times did I get any action—including one instance in which I fucked and bred a guy bareback. Do I regret that? Well, I don't really believe in regret. But it's not something I should make a habit of, and I haven't fucked without a condom since.

On the upside, in my stats, I had sex with 16 people aside from my husband in 2025. That's a huge jump from any other year since the pandemic, during which the most I had sex with in any given year was 7. Still way more than most people, which I still love: being slutty is maybe my biggest turn-on. I fucking love it. You know how many people besides my husband that I had sex with in 2019, though? 29! Oh, what wonderful days. I'd probably have to get back to at least monthly bathhouse visits to even get close to that again. I'm not certain that's ever going to happen. On the upside, it's only two weeks into 2026 and I've already had sex with four different people, two each on two different nights. And the two I bottomed for were both last night, the best bathhouse night I've had in years.

Neither experience was fully perfect, but what is? The first guy was a middle-aged, pretty thin Asian man, who passed my open room door jerking off, and when he saw me immediately respond to him, he came into my room. He fondled me for a bit, sucked me off for a while, and I had no idea where it was headed. He asked me, "What do you want to do?" One of my favorite questions! "Are you willing to fuck me with a condom?" I asked.

He clearly wasn't crazy about the condom. "I can try, for a couple of minutes," he said. I'm pretty vocal when getting fucked, which I think can be a turn-on for some. He actually fucked me for several minutes. He had a fairly average sized cock, which was absolutely perfect, made it easy to take but big enough to be pleasurable. I was on my back, my ass facing the edge of the bed, and he stood fucking me. Maybe halfway through he revealed himself to have kind of a foot thing—which I know is probably the most common fetish by a long shot, and which I have never been able to wrap my brain around. (Funny, that: I've still never actually experienced piss play but I love it in porn; I totally get anyone who can't wrap their brain around that.) I lifted my legs up to his shoulders, and then while he fucked me, he pressed his face into my feet. I took that as a cue to lightly press my feet onto the sides of his face, which he seemed really into.

There was one moment when he even licked my left foot, and started sucking my toes. I know some people love this, are driven sex crazy bit it, but my feet are very ticklish and I started laughing. It was still a playful moment, though, nothing that ruined the mood.

He pulled out after a bit, and asked something to the effect of whether I like topping. "You want me to top you?" I asked. (I know that's not an answer to his question. And on rare occasions, I do like topping—if the bottom is insanely hot and moans a lot.) I did tell him I would only do it with a condom. The guy was clearly disappointed, although given my insistence that he use a condom it should hardly have been a surprise. (Granted, I bet there are plenty of instances where guys start with condoms and then just take them off, which is a little like wearing a face mask with it pulled below your nose: what's the point of wearing it at all?) He said, "I find it irritating," in a way that suggested it's physically irritating to his skin. Whatever. Although he did ask if my lube was water or silicone based, which was probably relevant to that consideration. (I use ID lube, which is silicone based. Also I used a lot of my bottle last night, I'm going to need to buy more soon.)

This encounter was quite unusually soon after I got there, by the way. I had been taken aback by how busy the bathhouse was on the 1st, but chalked that up to it being a holiday. Last night was just a regular Thursday, and I got there just before 6:00 so I could get the pre-evening price break. This usually means the place is somewhere between dead and slow for the next three hours, but last night was a different story. I've been there on Saturday nights that were slower. There was sex all over the place, all the time, so much hot stuff just to walk around and witness it was nuts. Two different guys were clearly trying to be evening cumdumps, sitting and waiting on the edge of a communal cot with their ass up and open to any takers. I was fascinated by how few takers there were, actually—well, until later, anyway. One was a young White guy in a backwards baseball cap and a jockstrap; I would bet anything he got in free as it was "Boys Night." The other was a fit, Asian guy who looked like he could be in his thirties. And trust me, I was tempted, especially after I had already gotten a nice fuck, but I never partook. It was too unclear to me whether they would insist on bareback, and I didn't want to have to have that conversation.

And it's just as well, because if I had fucked either of those guys, I'd never have gotten what came later, which was by far the best part of the evening. I was wandering around, looking for some action, until around 8:30 or so. A couple of guys fondled me briefly and then moved on. Two very hot guys went into one of the three gloryhole closets and fucked, and I wanted so badly to get inside one of the adjacent ones so I could just watch through the connecting hole, but they were also occupied, the doors shut and locked. I could hear them fucking though so it was still hot. And again: it's just as well, because I would have just cum on the floor listening to those guys fuck in the dark, and I would have missed what came next.

I was actually very close to just throwing in the towel (literally!) and going home. And then, as I was walking past the lockers from the large communal play room, I walked past a very young Black man whose attention was somehow caught by me. He stopped and so did I. He was shorter than I am, wore glasses, had long dreadlocks, and I didn't even see until a few minutes later how cute he actually was, because he was the only one I saw walking around with a face mask on. That fascinated me, as you almost never see it anymore. I totally respect it, but also between his mask and the house music pumping overhead at all times, I had somewhat of a hard time hearing him. He asked me if I was going to be around a while and I said, "I think I'm about to leave actually." But then we started feeling each other's bodies and I asked if he wanted to come to my room.

He said yes, but also: "Just so you know, I don't kiss." Later, in the room, after quite a while of fucking, he kissed me. "I thought you said you don't kiss?" I said. "You're just so hot," he said, which was a nice boost to my self-esteem. I considered asking how old he was but I never did. He could quite easily have been 25, which would make me literally twice his age. I suppose it's possible he was a little older. These things get harder to gauge when your own age is further and further away. Hell, for all I know he was 32.

This is what I do now: he was really into me. Only when we were done, probably close to an hour later, did I ask what his name was: Tyler. "I have a nephew named Tyler," I said, which was not actually true. It wasn't a lie either, because in the moment I believed it. I don't know what the hell happened there. Why did I think my nephew's name was Tyler? It's a different name but which also starts with a T.

Anyway. He took off his mask as soon as we got into my room. The first thing he did was drop his towel, and plop onto his back on my bed. He had a self-assured comfort with himself and his body that I found very attractive. I still had no idea what the expectation was, but he had a beautiful, huge cock that I immediately started lightly jerking. I decided to get on the bed and straddle him, jerking both our cocks together.

Then he said: "Are you clean?" Clearly if I had just said yes, he would have been willing to fuck bareback. Why would anyone think they can just take someone's word for it, especially in a place where cocks are moving from ass to mouth and back again all over the place? I replied, "I'll only fuck with a condom." And then he immediately picked up a condom and started opening it. I honestly had no idea which of our cocks he was going to put it on until he put it right on his own.

Jackpot!

I poured some lube onto it, and slowly slipped it into my ass. I rode him this way for a while, but he would often start pounding really hard and quickly and I would have to ask him to slow down. This was the part that was not quite perfect, even though in a way it was also sweet: this guy was so into me it was astonishing. He kept telling me I was hot, that he loved my ass, and asking things like "You like that dick, baby?" I do love a verbal top, like a lot. But I had to ask him to slow down several times. He would say things like, "Okay baby, you can take control," but after a few minutes he'd sort of lose himself and start pounding. And I said to him, "This is bigger than I'm used to." And this is saying a lot, because I have had roughly 130 cocks in my ass.

But, Tyler was very receptive when I did tell him to slow down, and any time I did something even a little different, he was super into it, and it seriously turned him on. I squeezed his cock with my ass; he loved that. I swirled my hole around his cock a bit; this delighted him. This guy was not hard to please, but it was largely because he was so, so into me.

I've said this before: this is has been especially common over the years with Black men. I often wonder what accounts for it. I was told once, by a Black woman, that it was because I was pretty, and "black men love White women." I guess I'm close enough? I don't feel as pretty as I used to be, especially considering I'll be turning 50 this year. And this guy didn't seem to look at me this way, though he did compliment my earrings (pretty simple, silver hoop earrings but whatever). He seemed to be just into me, and we moved to so many different positions during our time together that, when he was able to see my cock—rock hard, as always in these scenarios—he loved that too.

And he was considerate. After he asked me to get on my back so he could fuck me missionary style, he asked if his hair was bothering me, as his long dreadlocks were dangling and brushing me in the face. Nope; in fact it kind of smelled nice. A couple of times, though, I did grab his hair and pull it back to the back of his head and hold it there, so I could see his beautiful young face. He even seemed to love that. He loved it when I squeezed his ass. When I held him tight, he said, "Hold me tighter!"

He fucked me for so long that I started to get tired. An ass is not made for a pounding of this length. We separated for a couple of minutes. He seemed to get the sense that it was time to leave, but for a moment he was laying on the bed, and I lay down next to him. Within moments, we had our hands on each other's bodies again, and when I responded any time his hand got close to my hole, he stick his finger in it, and he fingered me for a couple of minutes. It was amazing.

So then he told me to stay there on my stomach, and, the condom still on his cock, he entered me yet again. By this time the experience was sort of in the space between pleasurable sex and an endurance test, but in the end I was super glad we got to this part. He was careful not to pound me too hard, and though he was thrusting fast he never went too deep. And this was what finally led him to cumming—another one of my favorite things that I rarely get to experience, a top cumming while fucking me. "Yeah, yeah, cum!" I said, and after a few moments, he did.

After this, we still lay on the bed in each other's arms for a bit. This is a rare thing that I also enjoy, honestly depending on how hot and/or charismatic the guy is. He took off the condom and tied it into a knot, something I did not notice until I found it on the shelf next to the bed after he left. He'd done it quickly and very well, leaving this little pouch full of his seed. Clearly he's experienced at this. I put it in the little garbage sack that hangs on a hook on the wall.

As he gathered his things to go—including the glasses he had taken off and set off to the side on the bed, alongside what appeared to be some kind of vape (he offered it to me and I declined)—this was when I asked his name, and I told him mine. He asked if I come there on Thursdays. "I don't come every Thursday," I said, "but I'm often here on Thursdays." We both agreed we'd like to do this again. There's so much randomness at bathhouses it seems unlikely that we'll see each other again—especially considering how much later he arrived—but I'd be delighted for it to happen.

I walked home feeling invigorated. I told Tyler at one point, "I'm so glad I stayed!" and he said he was too. It was like he was a plunger and my ass had been plunged. My hole felt cleansed.

I have a close friend who used to be a roommate, one I find super hot and who I've actually written about here when I listened at through the wall between our rooms when he had sex with someone. He was never into the idea of bathhouses, but just a couple of months ago, he messaged me to say he had finally tried one in Philadelphia—and he had a great time. He's actually 9 years younger than I am to the day, which means right now he's 40; even he's middle-aged now, but I am certain he's popular at any bathhouse. I was shocked by this turn of events, and he explained that he had missed a train back home and didn't want to spend the money on a hotel, so he gave the bathhouse a try. Now he's messaging me regularly about the fun he's having. It's hot just to think of him at a bathhouse. He's currently on a vacation to the Dominican Republic, and he even told me there was a bathhouse close to his hotel in Santo Domingo.

I'm just glad he's discovered the no-strings joys of bathhouses. He's had terrible luck trying to find a boyfriend, especially on Grindr, which he said he deleted. (Not that this means much; he's deleted it and re-added it many times over the years.) This guy is on the spectrum and probably not for everyone, personality-wise (I've always found him a warm, wonderful presence, but I guess not everyone does), which is sad for him and probably means he will never have a lasting relationship. This is where the usefulness of bathhouses comes in, because it's where you can get all the sexual satisfaction you need with none of the bullshit of navigating relationships. This is also why I love it: my husband and I are in an open relationship, but never in a million years would either of us be polyamorous. One relationship is exhausting enough! Keeping it only about sex is what makes it work for us, and hookup apps have never, ever worked for me. If I start to get to know a new guy at all, I want it to be while his dick is in my ass.

1/2/2026

https://thisvid.com/videos/fucking-a-guy-at-the-bathhouse/

Last night was my first foray at my local bathhouse for 2026. I deliberately waited until after the holidays so I would not risk catching a cold or something right around the time I had tons of holiday activities and gatherings going on. I did have a brief cold in November as it was, and I last went to Steamworks on November 7.

This go-round, I played with two guys. I rented a Standard Room as usual, though it cost me $47 as opposed to the expected $34 thanks to their charging weekend prices on a holiday. I wasn't sure whether they would do that, given that today remains a regular workday for many (including me), but whatever, I can deal. I got there around 5 p.m., at which time it's usually pretty dead on a Thursday, and I was taken aback by how busy it was—it was like a late evening on a Saturday. Convenient for a geezer like me, who likes to go to bed early! (I never understand why slutty people think being slutty has to happen late at night. There's plenty of dick and ass out there in the daylight.)

Interestingly, because it was a Thursday, they were still doing their weekly "Boys Night" event—men 29 and under get in free. I want to say no twinks played with me, but I have no idea how old the first guy I played with was. He had a spectacular body, a magnificent cock (albeit one he could not keep very hard), and I have no idea how old he was. I almost asked him, but then I never did. However, there were plenty of twinks walking around, and I got to see some insanely hot stuff amongst them last night, including two of them fucking in a standing position right next to me, in a section where there is a kind of shelf you can either lean or sit on.

Speaking of the first guy I played with, he told me he was bisexual, and that his girlfriend loves the idea of him having sex with men. He had a vibe that was somewhat hard to read; this could have been true, or he could have been telling me stories. I have no idea. He was clearly very turned on by the idea of being recorded, so that's how the video above happened. He talked as though his girlfriend would love to see such videos, and when we finally got around to me fucking him—even though I had told him I was a bottom—he asked me to record my dick going into his ass. So, I did.

I was the only one with a phone handy. After I recorded about three minutes, I stopped, and then he picked up my phone to watch the video as I fucked him some more. He was super into that. But, he never did ask me to send him a copy of the video. He did want me to cum on him, and I wasn't ready to cum; he hoped I would find him later when I was ready, but I later came in a far preferable circumstance. This guy even came back around to my room a while later, asking if I'd had any luck with anyone else. I got the sense that he hadn't yet either, which just goes to show: even fit young men can strike out at the bathhouse. I bet he played with someone else eventually, though.

This guy also spent a lot of time just jerking me off. He was a little rough about it, and when I said, "That hurts a little," he said, "My bad," and adjusted for me. After that, he actually stimulated my cock quite well. Anyway, after I had fucked him, he noted that my cock is not super long (a well-established fact; I'm roughly six inches) but it was thick, which was what he loved about it. I can't say it looks that thick in the video, but you can also kind of tell that he needed me to go slow.

I prepped before leaving as usual, but never got anything up my ass yesterday—alas. Sometimes I think I should just stop hoping for that, but it does still happen often enough; it did my last time there, after all. And I can just see someone wanting to fuck me the one time I go back there without douching first.

Speaking of which, this guy had a lot of fantasies. He said he'd loved to get fisted but had not fully cleaned out. He mentioned that again when I asked if he wanted me to fuck him, but I honestly wasn't that concerned about it—especially if you use condoms (which, as you can see in the video, I did), most of the time it's not even needed. Eventually this guy was so horny he totally went for having me fuck him, which I did for far longer than I really would have wanted, but oh well. he was super into it.

His cock was notably larger than mine. I'm not sure how easy that is to tell in the video, especially as he was never fully hard. That was the problem with the idea of him returning the favor: it he could get rock hard, I'd have been all over that cock. But, just like countless other men at the bathhouse, all he ever managed was semi-hard at best.

When I told him I needed a break, he wandered out of my room. For a period there, a couple was in the room next to mine, and they were very vocal, which was insanely hot. I tried to peek over the wall but I couldn't get leveral to see far enough over it. This was my first time in a room that had a small door with bars in it that could allow you to see in the neighboring room, and I suppose I could have knocked on the door to see if they'd open it, but I really didn't think they were exhibitionists. Otherwise, why go into their closed-door room to begin with? I'm not sure why they even bothered to install that little door in the wall there.

Eventually I just did more wandering myself. There is a corner of my local Steamworks that used to be a structure where half of it was basically little glory hole closets, and on the other side was a slightly raised platform where guys can stick their dicks through holes and others can suck cock from the lower level without having to get on their knees—that's all been renovated now. This was my first time seeing it as the new space, which was basically another open space, with a cot (which got a lot of use) and a sling. I never did anything in there.

The second guy I played with was on the other end of the path toward the exit, right next to the gloryhole closets that are still there; this is in a smaller, communal space with a small bench facing a sling. I got to see another young couple fucking here, the top wearing nothing but a mesh shirt, and it was hot as hell. I sat next to them as they fucked doggie style, the bottom standing but leaning forward with his hands against the wall behind the bench. They took a break and wandered off, but during this, an older but pretty fit guy got down and started sucking my cock.

And holy shit was he talented. What a tongue, which he knew how to use! Within minutes I was gripping around his back as I spasmed and came against the back of his throat. It was amazing. He leaned back and said, "That was so fucking hot." Indeed it was!

Now spent, I went back to the showers to clean myself up a bit, then back to my room to dress and go. It's rainy here now, so I had layers to put back on. I passed some very hot action between even more guys as I left, and even paused to take it in for a second. But I was not going to cum again for a couple of days after that, so I went along on my way.

11/8/2025

Okay, when did I last go to the bathhouse? It's been some time. It appears to have been late August —about three months ago. I've been to Naked Night twice since then; I posted about the first one on August 31; my husband and I went again on September 8.

I haven't posted about that visit until now. I actually wrote a bit about that one in my personal blog at the time. I'll share what I wrote then, here:

Last night was Naked Night at the club [my husband] and I like to go to [in our neighborhood] just for that event—this usually happens monthly on the second Monday, but we just went to one recently, because of the twice-annual bonus one they do on the fourth Saturday every time there is a fourth Saturday in a given month.

We had thought we might go on the second Monday in August (August 11), but we didn't feel like it that day. We figured we were good with skipping it since we were definitely going to go on Saturday, August 30.

We had previously gone on Monday, July 14. But then we didn't go again for a month and a half, the next one being August 30. But after that, we went again only nine days later—because the second Monday in September was September 8. Presumably this is what happens a lot with Fourth Saturday events, as the Fourth Saturday would typically be right at the end of the month, with the first Monday being only two or three days later—and the Second Monday being one week after that.

I have to say, the vibe was decidedly different between the August 30 event and the September 8 event last night. There was a little while there last night where [my husband] had wandered off on his own for a bit, and I just found an empty table to sit at by myself, in a small area miraculously not packed like sardines with naked men. I just nursed my rum and Coke there for a while, taking in the scenery. Then [my husband] came back and sat with me at that table, and [my husband] is much more inclined than I am to strike up conversations with people. This couple of young guys in pup gear, but with their pup hoods pulled off, came near us, and [my husband] struck up a conversation with them. After some discussion about how even younger Americans are less frequently circumcised anymore, the different vibe of the crowd last night was brought up as well. That was when the one named Sparky (presumably a "pup" nickname) said: "It's much more social, and less porny."

That was kind of an odd take, in my opinion, all things considered. The room was packed with naked gay men, after all, some of them making out, in varying states of arousal—pretty typical, I have learned, of this event. The key difference, I suppose, is the small room off the hallway in the back, where there are now signs posted that say "This is not a sex club, please do not treat it like one," and "No Loitering," among a few other things. It was printed on regular 8.5 x 11 paper, in a font only barely big enough—I had to lean in pretty close to be able to read it. I do wonder if it was a response to the August 30 event, when things did get a little wild back there. I also wonder if those signs will stay up long, and whether they will still be there the second Monday of October. I guess we'll see!

They have a clothing check just like a coat check, and they provide paper sacks for you to put your clothes in. They also provide pens for you to write your name on yourself; I wrote [my husband]'s name on his chest and he wrote my name on mine. Between these two "pup" guys, one had "Sparky" written on his chest and the other's name was "North." I really wondered if that was his real name. It might have been. Anyway, after they chatted with us for several minutes, they both put their pup hoods back on before entering the crowd to mingle some more.

There was one other guy I nearly forgot to tell you about, an older guy sitting at the bar, fully clothed, right next to where [my husband] and I, and several other naked men, were standing in line to order drinks. I was wearing my [earrings in the shape of my state] yesterday, and this guy leaned over, put his arm around my shoulder, and kind of shouted over the din, "You give me the confidence to get some earrings of my own!" I just kind of smiled at him. After a minute or two, he shouted again, gesturing to his ears, "I'll get two pansies!"

He was clearly trying to flirt with me. I really wasn't into him, though. Odd how even as I age myself, I manage still to get hit on by guys who feel way too old for me. Ironic for me to say that when I'm pushing 50. This guy actually smelled a little bit. Not oppressively so, but—well, noticeably so. And it was a peculiar body-odor-type smell. I spent much of the rest of our several minutes in that line right next to him trying to avoid any eye contact.

A bit later, when [my husband] was in another area with some other guy, I was standing with my drink next to the bar counter, about four bar seats down from that guy. I thought I was far enough away from him but he still managed to holler in my direction, "My god you're beautiful!" That's nice to hear, of course. It would be nice to get it from a svelte man ten or more years younger rather than older, but whatever. I just smiled and said thank you.

*    *    *    *    *

We actually didn't go to the October Naked Night event. We didn't go the second Monday of November, either—but, November also happens to have a fifth Saturday, so there's a fairly good chance we'll go again on November 29. I had no sex or sex play with anyone on that September 8 visit, incidentally.

Anyway, that would be one of two reasons it's been two and a half months since my last visit to the bathhouse. The other would be because my six-month membership expired, and I was waiting for my budget to be able to take both a renewal of the membership and the cost of a Standard Room rental. I went before 6pm on a Friday yesterday, so the total combined cost for this visit was $62.

Getting there before 6:00, of course, meant it was pretty dead in there for a couple of hours. I killed time in my room, roamed around sporadically, and spent a lot of time on the bed in my room with the door open but getting no attention.

In the end, though, I caught the eye of a guy in the large play room, both of us watching a hot couple fucking on one of the mats in a corner on the far end of the room closest to the lockers. It took several moments of making eye contact, but finally I scooted over to him, and we started fondling each other and making out. I'm certain he was younger than me, though exactly how much, I'm not sure. He could have been South Asian, but I was also unsure about that—he was certainly some flavor of brown. He had a close-cropped black beard that I actually kind of liked, even though I'm not usually into beards.

8/31/2025

Last night was Naked Night at the bar my husband and I like to go to, which is usually on the night of the second Monday of the month, but on the two times a year that it happens, they also do one on the fourth Saturday of the month. That was last night.

We had intended to go to the Naked Night event on Monday the 11th, but in the end neither of us felt like going out. And we felt better skipping it, knowing we planned to go on the 30th when it happened on a Saturday—even though the Monday ones never have a cover charge, but this Saturday one did. A whopping $5 a person!

I have mixed feelings about the Saturday one. I have no idea if this was an anomaly or if it's typical for these things to be different from what usually happens at the Monday Naked Night events, but there were detectable differences. Fewer people actually stripped fully naked. Don't get me wrong, there was still a lot of fully nude men there, but there was also a lot of guys wearing underwear or (far more commonly, if they kept anything on) jockstraps on. 

They had a DJ this time, which was different; they don't have a DJ Monday nights. They thus also had a dance floor, and I even went and danced a bit. In the nude. Another new experience for me: dancing in the nude at a gay bar. This would not be my only new experience last night. I will say of the DJ, though, that he was also nude—a stocky, bearded, hairy, bear type. A couple of times patrons were seen sucking the DJ's cock, when he'd come out from behind the little cubby area where he had his turntables. When I was playing with people in the back room later, there was a monitor on the wall that was a live shot of the DJ in that cubby area. At one point I looked up at that monitor and there was a Black guy in there with the DJ, standing behind him, fucking him. I didn't find the DJ himself particularly hot but the whole scenario was unbelievably hot. The Black guy was pretty hot.

Now is as good at time as any to say I got a little drunk last night. I wouldn't say I was wasted, I did not have a hangover this morning (thanks in large part to taking two Aleve with two full glasses of water before going to sleep), but I still got pretty significantly buzzed. I was therefore much drunker than I have been at any of these events thus far. We'll be getting back to that later, but for now I'll tell you what I had: my husband and I both had a rum and Coke at home before leaving; I put one shot of rum in his and two in mine. Once we were there, and we inevitably ordered a drink at the bar, I had another rum and Coke. Later I had yet another. I presume each of those had one shot of rum in them, but I don't know for sure and I don't know what kind. I only know that by the time I was fucking a different Black guy in the back room—without a condom—I was in control but pretty tipsy.

There was something else pretty peculiar about being at Naked Night last night: we ran into friends. You might consider this inevitable, but for some reason I never thought about this happening. And I have never run into friends at a function like this, with sex going on all around, before. An acquaintance, yes—I've mentioned the guy I know who I've run into multiple times at gasworks. And even these two guys last night, "friends" is kind of a strong word, but "acquaintance" is maybe a weak word given that we have history: my husband and I used to hang out with one of these guys, I'll call him Calvin, and his husband a lot, like 15 years ago. But that faded ages ago, and for the past good decade or more we typically occasionally run into Calvin and his new partner—the three of them were a triad for a while—at things like Pride events. But all of this was only ever as friends; I have never done anything sexual with friends before. Unless you want to count last night, and unless you want to count Calvin as a friend.

When we first saw him, the very start of it was an odd thing to me—another new experience: Calvin saw us and gave us both hugs. All of us were buck naked, except for the little pouch strapped around our chests. Calvin's partner was up the couple of steps in the back area where I saw pups fucking each other the last time I went to Naked Night, and he gave us hugs as well. It was always with a lean forward and only hugging with our arms and chests, so penises did not touch. We chatted with them for a bit and then we meandered our separate ways.

There was a lot of cock tugging, and some cock sucking, on the dance floor, which we went to after that, on the other end of the bar. I don't know why I bother getting self-conscious about how easily I get an erection, with all that going on around us. It's just that I never saw anyone else with an erection who was not actively playing in a sexual way with someone. My husband did notice and he tugged on my cock a bit. Later, in the back room, he even sucked me off a bit.

The crowd really seemed to thin out faster last night than it did the last time we were there, on a Monday. Then again, we got there a good hour later than the previous time. I generally didn't have as much luck getting action as I did the time before, except that in the end, I got even more action than I kind of bargained for. I would go into that back room, hang out a bit, roam around the bar, come back, repeat. I kind of wanted my husband to do his own thing and he kept coming back to me in that back room.

My last time in there, when I was easily the most buzzed, I found myself standing right next to Calvin, both of us leaning against the bar table that runs around the perimeter of the pretty small room. He pulled out some lube and tugged on my cock, lubing it up. Calvin is a Black man himself, a few years older than me I think, incredibly fit for his age, and he looks a lot younger. I truly never in a million years would have expected to do anything sexual with him. But, I passively let it happen, because more often than not that's just how I do sex.

And then—he basically guided my cock to the ass of another Black guy, not quite as fit but attractive enough, and I just went ahead and fucked him. My husband was playing with some other guy maybe three people over from us, sucking him off I think. But I fucked this guy for a good few minutes, until I came inside him. He pulled off of me when I was maybe three quarters of the way through the orgasm, and a few drops of cum fell to the floor.

I suppose I did find this really hot.

I had already seen another guy cum all over the floor next to me, before Calvin took his spot. That guy had fingered my ass and got me all hot, but then he fucled someone else—and he pulled out before cumming, so I guess I got to see it. I keep thinking of the bar staff who clean the floors after they close. Do they talk about the fact that they're mopping up a slop of spilled cocktails and cum?

I'd really like to blame poor judgment on being drunk, but that would be transparently delusional—especially to regular readers of this blog. I have openly had my access to DoxyPEP on my mind for a while. I think I'm kind of at a point where I'll use condoms if requested, but am open to not using condoms if not wanted. I'm not quite as religious about this anymore. We'll see how effective the DoxyPep is, I guess—I had two of those pills along with the Aleve I took when we got back home last night. By all accounts it's supposed to be highly effective against bacterial infections. 

My husband and I were walking through our neighborhood—the traditionally gay neighborhood of our city—and walked past a guy wearing a T-short that read "I ❤️ DoxyPEP." The heart was a rainbow in the shape of a heart. We were pretty amused by that

If I wind up with an STI regardless of the DoxyPEP usage, I will pivot right back to religious codom usage. Ironically, I actually brought a couple of condoms in my little chest-strap pouch. Unlike the bathhouse, though, I have never seen a single condom at Naked Night. I'm not sure why the difference. Maybe because the crowd at Naked Night skews a bit younger?

8/24/2205

My husband is part of a nudist group, which meets monthly at each other's houses in our region, where they have potlucks and play parties. He pays a monthly dues payment for membership, and it has never occurred to me to also join, mostly because I already pay enough for my membership as well as fees for each visit to Steamworks.

Well, even though it was a Saturday and thus it meant a higher weekend rate, I went to Steamworks last night, mostly because my husband was out of town for the nudist group—and one far enough away that he took a sleeping bag and a pillow and he spent the night. I took it as an opportunity to go to Steamworks, and I arrived shortly before 6:00, which meant paying $47 rather than the $62 it would have cost for a Standard Room after 6:00.

Basically I paid for that $15 in savings with nearly four hours of no action to speak of. This is typically how Saturdays work at the local gay bathhouse, and although historically I give up and go home after about four hours if I haven't gotten any real action, this time I stuck around longer because my husband wasn't home anyway.

I think this all may have started before hour five, but it was probably between hours four and five: last night I fucked one young Asian man in my room; got sucked off my a very fit middle-aged guy in my room until he jerked off onto my cock and belly; and had another guy come in and ride my cock for a few minutes before he then got off and fucked me for a few minutes. That third guy not only put condoms on both of us, but he left the door open to my room—which always turns me on—which allowed another guy from two doors down to come and watch for a bit from my doorway. When I got up to head to the showers, that guy was back standing in his own open doorway, and he said to me: "That was super hot. Good job."

That's the second time this year someone has watched me get fucked at Steamworks and then said "Good job" to me. Ha! It must be fun to watch me getting fucked.

I was sure glad to have that third guy come along—and I had been there longer than four hours at this point—which basically made the entire outing worth doing, even if the fucking itself didn't last all that long. I spent more time fucking the young Asian guy, who was wearing a black jockstrap that he did not take off, but that one was the least enjoyable play I've had at the bathhouse in some time. He kept insisting I fuck faster, and I obliged, and he seemed to get satisfaction out of it. I didn't, though; when he decided he needed a break and he moved on, all I could think about was how the whole endeavor just felt like a chore.

There was another guy I really wanted to do more with, with whom I did some mutual fondling on the long bench along the wall in the large play room. His cock was long enough but unusually thin, but that was still fine; what he had was a beautiful face, and we made out a bit while we fondled and pet each other. There was something about his stubble that made that especially hot. But, there was another guy who sat on the other side of him, and he was clearly more attracted to him. I had even asked if he wanted to come to my room and he declined, before the other guy even sat on the other side of him. I moved on soon enough, though I wound up sitting next to him again when returning to the play room later, sort of by accident. I had seen a hot looking young man further down the bench and I went to sit near him, only to realize right after sitting down that it was that same guy. As is typical, I would leave and return and leave and return again in both this and the smaller play rooms. Eventually I was on the long bench again, and that same young man was several feet down from me. I guess he decided he was done, so he jerked off and came onto his own chest, sitting right there on the bench. I had never seen that exact thing happen before, and it was pretty hot to watch.

After the guy who fucked me was done in my room later, though, I decided I was ready to come too. Should I do the same as the gorgeous young guy? Eventually I found myself in one of the dark gloryhole rooms, though, barely able to see two guys fucking in the gloryhole closet next to me, through the hole itself. I jerked off and came onto the floor in there. Someone else probably later came in and stepped in it. Oh well; I've stepped in so much cum over the years, turnabout is fair play!

8/4/2025

I went back to Steamworks on Friday—that was three days ago; it's Monday morning and I'm just now finding the time to write about it, even though there's not much to tell.

I really lucked out the past two times I went to the bathhouse, finding someone to top me. No such luck this time, mostly because it was totally dead—it may have picked up later, but probably not much; I suspect Saturday was a better bet. But, I wanted the weekday-before-6pm rate, and that's what I got: I only paid $32 this time, rather than $47 or $62.

I suppose it was worth it? I suspect I'd have had better luck on Thursday, as has been historically the case, and had I known this was how Friday was going to turn out, I indeed would have gone on Thursday instead. In fact, I initially had plans to see a movie on Thursday, but then I shifted that to Friday because the showtimes worked better for me after work. But then I asked my husband if he wanted to see the movie with me, and he did, but there was a leather event at a local bar he wanted to go to on Friday, so he suggested we go on Saturday. So then I decided I would go to the bathhouse on Friday. I should have gone on Thursday. Oh well.

It's not like Friday was a total strike-out. I got sucked off for a while in my room by two different guys, neither of whom was I super into, but both of whom were pretty good at it. The first guy was much older than I am, or at least he looked it; "much older" is starting to mean different things as I am pushing 50. To many, I am the "much older" guy. Anyway, this guy was very tall, had either white or gray hair (hard to decipher in the dim light of a bathhouse), and was a bit chunky. I even tried to indicate disinterest when he walked to my open door, but then he just walked in. I could have said "no, thanks," but given how dead it was I kind of thought: okay, whatever.

He sucked me off for a while. Then he put his knee on the bed and indicated for me to suck him off. This part was a bit odd, because he acted totally into it, even moaned, even though his penis was mostly flaccid. One more in the long line of guys who can't maintain an erection. I will say this: there was something about the way he put his hand on the back of my head, and caressed my scalp with his thumb, that I liked.

But, I didn't want to keep doing that, so I finally told him I needed a break. He thanked me, and even added: "You're so good looking. I've seen you before."

I ran across an old video I took of myself recently, I think I had recorded it in 2013, naked and inserting a prostate massager. It was something I had uploaded to my Xtube account (god, do I miss Xtube—it was so much better than ThisVid.com, which is the closest thing we have now). I did not think of myself as hot then, just as I don't particularly now (and aging complicates even the hope of getting there). But I was struck by how hot I found my body then, looking at it now. Time and distance always changes perspective. The experience did make it at least a little bit easier for me to imagine being horny for me even now. I don't care for the shape of my belly, though it's clearly not any kind of deterrent to countless men who have been into me; I especially hate what I find to be the relative shapelessness and lack of firmness to my ass, but whatever. None of this has kept me from wildly successful sluttery.

Anyway. There was another slight mistake I made when going to the bathhouse on Friday: I hadn't jerked off in three days. I should have at the very least jerked off on Wednesday. Not having done so since Tuesday, I was insanely horny all day on Friday. I was going to the bathroom to watch bits of porn every couple of hours. I was dying of horniness. This is always a recipe for cumming sooner than I'd really like to when I get to the bathhouse.

I went straight there from work. I have a new system for when I clean out at their douching station: I bring my douche bottle, lube, and my dildo. This way I can put a bit of lube on the dildo and stick it up my ass and pump it a bit and then make sure it comes out clean. This feels more reliable than just using my fingers. And I did not have to wash out that many times. Not that any of it matters in the end. No one came anywhere near my asshole on Friday, which was the disappointing part.

I walked around Steamworks a bit, and even found myself pretty turned on my happening upon a guy in the back gloryhole closet area, fisting another guy. I had never seen that in common areas before, and it was hot to watch. I sat down on the small bench near them to watch them, but then they stopped. The bottom started to suck me off, but I could smell the distinctive odor of his ass, which I wasn't into. It didn't smell like shit or anything, but it still smelled like the inside of a rectum. I'm not sure how else to put it. I have no idea what kind of cleaning out might have remedied that, but it did turn me off. So I moved on within a couple of minutes.

The second guy to suck me off also stood by my open room door while I lay naked on my bed. He stood there for a while. I had to fondle myself and stare intently at him for several minutes before he overcame his hesitation. He was definitely younger than the previous guy. Not exactly thin either, but thinner than the other guy. At this point I was just eager for play with someone who fit inside my somewhat malleable standards. I never did fully make out what his body or even his face looked like, though basically he looked fine.

And he was an excellent cocksucker. He had a thing for gently fondling my belly button while sucking me off, something that usually isn't my favorite, but he was so surprisingly subtle about it that this time I actually kind of liked it. And in an ideal world, I would have just let him suck me off for a good long while before I moved on. But, here was where my not having cum in three days did me in: in the end, I came, pretty substantially, in the back of his throat. And this was a different sort of orgasm, not the kind that involves a single intense pulse, but rather one that feels like the halfway point between cumming and peeing—it was still definitely cum, mind you, I'm just talking about the way it came out. It was extremely pleasurable, but different.

I even thought maybe it would mean I could stay horny and hang out for a while longer. Had the place been busier, I might have. but now it was maybe a quarter after 7:00, so about 75 mintues after the far higher weekend rates kicked in, and the place was almost totally emptied out—it was deader than when I had arrived. I'd probably have had to hang out another three hours for things to pick up again, if at all, and I didn't have the heart for that. So, I got dressed and went home.

Given that the only action I got was a couple of blowjobs, it's worth noting that "Naked Night" at the bar last month was a far better experience—no entry fee, hotter guys who were on average more into me, far better lighting, and on a Monday no less. That bar has their Naked Night on the second Monday of every month, which makes next Monday the next one. I actually hope to go.

The Free Sex Club

Remember when I went with my husband to an event at a longtime-local-institution bar called Naked Night? Last night I went back again, again with my husband—and this time I actually got naked, and I played with a couple of guys in that small nook area in the middle of the back hallway.

You may recall that, when I went back in March, my husband got naked, but I did not. It was March, so I was not only dressed, but in layers: a regular outfit, a scarf, a pea coat. I saw guys making out and tugging on each other's cocks in random places around the bar, and even saw one guy getting sucked off in that back-hallway nook space, and still, quite naively, I thought I had the sense that that was about as crazy as it got. Boy was I wrong.

I saw multiple people straight up fucking in the bar last night, and not even just in that back hallway nook space. I'd have either fucked or been fucked myself if I had the chance, but instead I had two different guys suck my cock for extended periods of time. These both happened in the back hallway nook, with my husband there, which would make this the first time he and I have ever played with other people while we were together. And we have been together 21 years. He even bare fucked an incredibly hot young man with long, curly brown hair who was wearing a cock cage. It was kind of wrong, but incredibly hot. My husband had some difficulty staying hard, which he said was due to the angle: the guy was taller than him. But, my husband also has a long track record of varying degrees of erectile dysfunction. He even took five of his pills prescribed for this before we went out, he told me later.

I've covered this before on this blog, how widespread it seems to be that gay men I would love to fuck me can't keep an erection going. So many guys out there can't keep it up, and I kind of have the opposite problem: sometimes I can't keep it down. I even took a bit of strategic action around this yesterday, as I was afraid I would be rock hard the moment I took my shorts off at the bag check at the bar, for no other reason than this being a totally new experience and environment for me. Well, not totally new—but my first time getting naked in this environment, with tons of other naked men, many of them stunning, around me. Anyway, I jerked off in the bathroom while I was at work—watching a very effective video in which a dom ties the ends of an anal hook and a hook into the sub's nostrils toward each other, then pisses on him, all over his back and in his hair, then smears his face in the puddle—with the idea that maybe I wouldn't be too turned on too quickly at the bar.

So much for that! I mean, I actually did okay when we first took off our clothes and then checked our bags. My husband and I both had gotten free strap pouches at a booth at Pride, so we had something to carry our valuables with us even as we walked around otherwise nude. We got in line at the bar—where the bartenders were not nude, but they all had small briefs on, one of them in a thong—and my husband ordered himself a beer and he ordered me the Moscow Mule I asked for. As we stood in line, I could feel my cock getting into "semi" mode, and I did what I could to keep from getting a raging hard-on just standing in line. A couple of super hot guys were making out against the wall nearby, tugging on each other's cocks. How does everyone else just walk around flaccid in this environment? I must be a real anomaly, less than a year from 50 and actually struggling not to get an erection and not the other way around.

We got our drinks, and we did a loop around the bar. We stopped briefly by the back hallway nook for the first time, and a couple of people were getting sucked off. I started getting hard immediately. After a few minutes my husband suggested we walk around the bar again, and I was like: "Even if I'm so hard?" He said no one would care, and that it would go down quickly. I felt kind of strange walking around with a hard cock where no one was actually playing, but my husband was right about it going down within a few minutes. Well, mostly.

There's a slightly elevated section of the bar at its far north end, to the left right after you walk in the entrance. It's up maybe three steps, and there is bar seating you can sit at, and look over the crowd at the rest of the bar. We went up there, and as there were two empty stools at the closest end of the counter, I sat there with my drink.

This was where things got really interesting. There was a somewhat older guy, not even especially fit (not at all fat either though), sitting at a stool against the wall behind us—the wall was maybe four or five feet from the stools we were seated on—kind of holding court: over pups. As in, guys in pup-play gear, mostly leather pup masks. One or two of them had cock cages on (I saw a surprising number of cock cages there last night, actually). One of them was so well hung I could hardly believe it, and he wasn't even hard. A particular pup would spend extended stretches leaned against the older guy (their master? I haven't a clue), who was fingering the pup's hole as they faced each other, the pup resting his face on the guy's shoulder.

Naturally I got hard again. This was very hot to watch. As was the couple of times one of the pups would turn around and present their ass to the older guy, who would indeed oblige and fuck them. But other times, other guys passing by would casually fuck one of these pups for a minute or two. That happened at least two or three times.

After my visit in March, I assumed you'd only see sucking at this event. I also learned last night that some other bars have "Naked Nights" too, but how permissive they are about sexual activity seems to vary. This one, located in my city's historically queer neighborhood, clearly tolerates far more than just sucking, and not in the most secluded locations. To be fair (sort of?), I didn't see any really overt sex play out in the main floor area of the bar, at least not any more significant than making out while tugging cocks. The actual sucking and fucking, I only saw either on this raised area to the far north end of the bar, or in the back hallway nook space. A guy did tell me later, his name was Brandon (I'll get back to him), that there is another bar on the south end of town that has Naked Nights, but you might get kicked out of you start playing in the middle of the bar. "You have to have sex in the bathrooms there," he said.

I also had a conversation with Brandon about how often he comes to these Naked Nights, and it was clear he comes to a lot of them. I told him this was my first time getting naked at one, but I do go to the bathhouse a lot. He told me he's only been to a bathhouse once, and he found it to be like "low-rent Grindr" and that the other people around were too old. There's a lot more we could have gotten into there, but I can say this here: only one visit to a bathhouse is not enough to judge how well it's going to work for you in the long run—I love them, and even though last night was free except for the drinks (no cover charge!), which makes the bathhouse far more expensive, I still prefer having access to an actual room. Also, Brandon's one visit to a bathhouse was to the one I never go to, and which has a reputation for older clientele. He should go to Steamworks on a Friday or Saturday night. I'd say he might change his tune, but he clearly had his mind set on his opinion on bathhouses.

I will say this: condom use, while hardly universal, is far more prevalent at a bathhouse than at a bar. I didn't see a single condom last night.

I did have an interesting thing happen while I was sitting at the bar seating near the fuck-pups. While my husband had gone to do a loop on his own—with my blessing—a very attractive guy who had to have been in his early thirties came up to me, and asked me if I play video games. I do not, so I did not recognize the character when he told me I look like "Astarion" from Baldur's Gate. He pulled up photos on his phone. I could sort of see it, even though I'm not nearly as hot. It was definitely about the hair: I do have a very nice looking head of gray hair, at a similar length.

The guy told me the character is "a sexy vampire." Then he said, "So now you can go up to people and stab them in the face! I bet you've never had anyone say that to you in a bar." I agreed: "That is a new one."

I have no idea if the guy was into me otherwise. It was a very friendly exchange, but felt like that was the only point of it. He did introduce himself to me and I can't remember his name (Brian? maybe not), but he kind of bid me farewell and moved on.

Anyway. Last night took me a while to warm up, but next time I think I will get into the action a lot more quickly. When I wrote about this in March, I said this event goes very much under the radar—and I suppose it still does, but I learned it's consistently on the second Monday of every month. I'll have to mark my calendar. Apparently they do an extra one, on a Saturday, any time there is a fifth Saturday in a month. There's one of those next month! But we have dinner plans an hour outside of town that evening so it will be tricky.

My husband was back for a bit while I nursed my drink, then he wandered off again. This time I decided I would go back to that back-hallway nook as well. I wound up right behind my husband, and from this point forward we hung out, and played, in that nook space.

Two men were there who my husband knew from his monthly potlucks with The Olympians, the nudist group which meets at each other's homes and also have sex in other parts of their houses. This was how my own play participation started, actually: this guy with glasses and a large belly, who had just been introduced me, started tugging on my cock and said, "May I?" How polite. I said, "Mmmhmm," and he knelt down and sucked me off for a bit.

While we were later walking home my husband said, "Everybody loves your cock, they want you to fuck them." I quipped, "Yeah, it's my cross to bear." He knows full well I prefer to be fucked. Neither happened for me last night, I only got sucked. I'm not sure by exactly how many people. Three, maybe four. Only two for a long while. I had to contemplate this later: how to count how many people I "had sex" with at this event? I never came, and neither did anyone sucking me off, and that's usually my threshold for the official count. "Usually" is the operative word there, and two different guys spent such a long time sucking my cock that I think they both deserve to get counted. Plus, cum was at least part of the experience in one case: there was a tall, thin, young guy on his knees who spent so much time sucking every cock he could get into his mouth that I was in awe of him. He started this well before my husband and I even sat for a while at the raised bar seating, and once I came over to him, the guy gave my cock a lot of special attention. My mouth would never be able to take that kind of strain. This guy should be in the Cocksucking Olympics. Anyway, when my husband was ready, he jerked off until he came right on this guy's chest, and this was in the middle of the young guy going back and forth between sucking me off and sucking off Brandon.

After a while, the young guy finally needed a break and he stood up, revealing how tall he was. He was super cute too, with a thin line of smeared cum across one of his pecks—my husband's cum. It was incredibly hot.

It was before any of that even happened, though, that I had my first extended period of getting sucked off. I was standing to the right, where I had accidentally knocked over my cocktail on the counter there, which was a bit embarrassing. No one else seemed to pay it any mind at all. It did waste at least a third of my one cocktail, though, maybe half of it. Oh well. Anyway, this was around the time my husband was fucking the hot guy with light brown curly hair and a cock cage, on the other side of a couple of people from me. A short man with a close-cropped beard and a harness on slowly walked by in the hallway, and when he paused and I made eye contact, pretty quickly he came over to me.

I seem to have relative success with short guys. If you're hot, I truly don't care how tall you are, and it boggles my mind how many people think of shortness as a deal breaker. This guy had wonderful pecs, a beautiful face, short black hair—he was checking a lot of my boxes. His cock, while having less girth than mine (most do, especially if they are not any longer than mine), was quite nice. I'd have loved to suck it, but never quite got the chance to. There was a moment when my husband, quite unnecessarily and quite unsolicited, suggested I fuck the guy. "I'm not a bottom," he said. This gave me a flicker of hope, and then he said, "I just love sucking cock." I replied: "You're very good at it." Because he was.

The entire experience with this guy was hot as hell. I loved the way he would gently pull on my balls, the way he would look up at me while sucking, and especially when he looked up at me while I just grazed his tongue with the end of my cock, caressing his tongue and mouth with it. I was sucked off by this guy even longer than the much sluttier other guy did, but they both did spend a lot of time on my very popular cock.

God, I love sex. Have I mentioned that? Gay sex is the best. And to be free to be my authentically slutty self—that is the best of all. I envied that younger slut. He got a far greater head start at it than I ever did, having been deeply repressed until I lost my virginity to my husband at age 28, and then we opened our relationship when I was 34. That was 15 years ago. So with these two new guys added from last night, how many guys have I had sex with, officially? *checks notes* 282! (My total for anal sex is the same as it was before: 205. Still impressive! Maybe I can crack 1000 before I die.)

I actually tried to cum in the young slut's mouth, by the way. But, not being a top by nature, and having already cum earlier in the day, this was a challenge. I got about halfway there a couple of times but never got closer than that. Plus, my husband and I had already said we would head home around 9:45, and once he came, somewhat rudely I thought, he was all ready to go. He kept asking if I was ready to cum, which isn't as simple a question as it sounds. He also held up his phone to show that it was now 10:02, and this was actually fair because I had to work today and I am way too old to be out super late on a week night.

At this point, I was in the middle of a chat with the aforementioned Brandon, who had also sucked my cock a couple of different times. Now we were talking about bathhouses, and the age of the clientele. I said, "At the bathhouse I'm one of the older ones." He wouldn't have that, and didn't believe I was older. "How old do you think I am?" I asked. He said, "Thirties?" I laughed and said, "I love to hear that!" So then Brandon asked me how old I thought he was, and I also guessed in this thirties. He seemed younger to me—unlike me, for instance, he still had fully dark hair. (I was blond before, but you know what I mean.) When I guessed thirties for him, he said, "I love you!" and embraced me. I think he may have been a little drunk. Anyway so then I said, "Okay, maybe early forties?"

I was genuinely surprised when he said he was 47. He had a far better body than most men in their late forties. It was hardly perfect, but it had some solid muscle to it, particularly in the pecs. I told him I was 49, and he was kind of delighted: "We're in the same boat!"

It was around this time that my husband showed me the time, and I finally told Brandon, "I gotta go." He was in the middle of telling me how cute I am, everyone thinks I'm hot (clearly not even objectively true), blah blah blah. I had mentioned how lots of guys at bathhouses have no interest in me, and he acted like he couldn't believe it. I suppose it's fair to note, as I write this right now, how getting action seems to have been easier as of late. I don't know what changed though. I'm certainly "soft," as one other guy said to me about both my husband and me—"But in a sexy way," he said. Uh, thanks? That guy spent a couple of minutes tugging my hair while the slut was sucking me off and I loved it.

I finally pulled myself away from Brandon, who kept talking even more when I first said I had to go, and my husband and I went to get our bag with our clothes. And would you believe it, the most interesting thing of the entire evening happened at the bag check when we were leaving—the guy at the counter, a tall, hairy guy with a beard who looked pretty fit, flirted with me hard.

Any kind of flirting can often be lost on me, because I never assume anyone would be prone to flirting with me. But this guy was beyond obvious about it, though it still took a minute for me to register it. The first thing that happened was when he said, "May I?" or something to that effect—not to suck my cock in this case, but to take my hand and admire my long fingernails. He didn't even realize at first that they were real, and when he did realize that, he was even more impressed. He took my hand in his and was very kind of sensual about it.

He also noticed my ring. "That's a wedding ring," I said. "I got it from him!" And I pointed to my husband, who was on the other side of a small, narrow table stand that stood perpendicular to the bag check counter. The guy holding my hand registered my husband and said, "Oh, excuse me!" in a very apologetic tone. It was adorable, and I didn't see why he should even worry about it. What did he think we were there for?

We finished our exchange with the guy actually pulling my hand to his mouth and kissing it. It felt like kind of a strange place to experience such a deeply romantic gesture, but that was still what it felt like. It was deeply charming. He asked us both about our jobs while we slipped our underwear and shorts back on, so the friendly chatting continued for a bit. I'd have been happy continuing to talk to that guy under any other circumstance, but I needed to get home and get to bed.

My husband felt strongly that we should both take Doxy PEP when we got home. I never saw this, but my husband was certain he saw blood on Brandon's mouth at one point, and that there was some on his penis when he went into the bathroom to wash it off. I would have hoped my husband would take Doxy regardless, given his bareback fucking of the hot guy in the cock cage, but I mever think of just oral sex as "high risk." My husband was really worried about what he thought was blood, though, so we both took the pills when we got home.

There was a point during our time there, my husband introduced me to yet a third guy he knows from The Olympians. (Now that guy was older. Late fifties at least, I would guess.) This guy quipped, "I'm not sure there's any other place you can be where there are so many penises per square foot." I chuckled at him politely, but did not bother to mention Steamworks on a late Saturday night. This bar might still win out, especially by virtue of no one at the bar even wearing a towel, but Steamworks can be quite comparable in terms of crowds at the right time. The benefit of Naked Night at the bar, though, in addition to it having no entry fee, is that it's plenty crowded far earlier.

My husband and I did chat for a few minutes with a guy earlier in the evening at the elevated section to the side of the bar, who said he had arrived right around 7:00, when Naked Night officially begins. Most people there were still clothed, he said, and he gradually took clothes off over the next hour: just his shirt at first, then his pants, then the underwear. We got there around 9:00 in March and it was incredibly crowded; we got there shortly after 8:00 this time and it was barely less crowded. Maybe we should aim for 7:30 next time!

When we left, two guys walked in the door already buck naked. I was like: "Did they just walk here from home naked?" My husband assumed they did; our city does not criminalize public nudity. I do wonder if at the very least they live close by, as I have never seen anyone just casually strolling through town in the nude when it wasn't something like World Naked Bike Ride or whatever. There's something titillating about the idea of walking the distance there from home—0.8 miles—in the nude. But as much as my horizons have broadened, that will never happen. Checking clothes at the bar for five bucks is easier.

7/5/2025

Did you miss me?

I went to the bathhouse tonight for the first time since March 15. It's been three and a half months. A month of PrEP, wasted! I'm kidding. Although it was halfway amusing to me that I still have to get a full spectrum of STI tests quarterly in order to stay on the prescription. I hadn't hooked up with anyone besides my husband since the last time I had the tests done. Granted, my husband had, and he doesn't always use condoms, so that's just as much reason to be on PrEP and to get tested.

Here's the other thing, about today specifically: I got some action astonishingly quickly. Seriously, I was in and out of there in about an hour. And I had to spend some extra time cleaning out in the douche station, which means I didn't even start looking for some action until shortly after 6 p.m.—and I had gotten there shortly before 6 p.m. so I could get the early weekend rate of $47 for a Standard Room rather than the $62 it would have cost me had I gotten there after 6:00. It would have been even cheaper had I managed to get there before 6:00 yesterday but yesterday was the 4th of July and of course I had other plans.

I have other plans next week, too—on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. I was really ready to finally go back to the bathhouse again, and today was the opening. I hate having to spend $47, and today it was for all of one hour, but whatever. It was pretty great to get some action so quickly.

I was getting pretty hot and bothered watching a guy get fucked on a bench in the main, large play room. I even moved over to the cot at the other end of the room, which was a bit closer to them. A guy in a jockstrap and a great body, who looked like he was maybe in his early thirties, was standing nearby, also watching. He kept glancing over at me, so I started fondling myself. Soon enough he was on his knees and sucking my cock.

He did this, very well, for a few minutes. Then he said: "Will you fuck me?"

I said: "Sure. You want to go to my room?" And so we did.

And I fucked him, for quite a while. Sometimes I can't tell really how well I'm doing as a top, but this guy was super into it. He moaned a lot. He also would often reach back between both our legs and either caress the inside of my thigh or fondle my balls. I really loved that.

I never came. nor did I want to. He just got tired after a while, saying he needed a break.He gave me a nice smile through his young bearded face (not too bushy a beard, thank god), and he moved on. 

I did consider paying for a locker instead of a Standard Room today, as my budget is super tight right now and this was putting me over budget. I'm really glad I still paid for the room, though. I opened my door and lay down on the bed, turned on the porn on the TV mounted on the wall, and waited to see if anyone approached me.

A guy did, within minutes. I want to say he was "older," but he could as easily have been in his forties as he could have been in his fifties. I have no idea. I just know he wore pretty non-trendy glasses and he had a pretty large belly, and it wasn't really doing it for me, but I let him fondle my cock anyway. He was pretty good at it, so I kind of thought: okay.

He closed the door, and worked my cock for a bit. When I responded to his finger going toward my hole, he paid a bit more attention to that area. After a few minutes, he took my hand an put it on his cock so I would fondle him as well, and get him harder. That was when I realized he was pretty well hung. And he went for my condom, grabbing a lube packet first: "That's lube," he said. And then he put on the condom.

I'll make a bit of a confession now. My husband has a prescription for Doxy-PEP, which is highly effective (though not foolproof) against bacterial STI infections after high-risk encounters. And even though it's not my prescription, I was very tempted to allow bareback sex today, and just take a couple of those pills after. I did a pretty good job of convincing myself otherwise, finding many reasons not to do that. My husband does not hook up with people who have sex with nearly as many people as I do, which makes my behavior far higher risk—some might take that to mean a better argument for using Doxy, but I think I'm probably better off remaining religious about condom use. I also thought about leading by example: probably most of the other men at the bathhouse do not have a Doxy prescription, and I don't want to be an active part of normalizing unprotected sex. That's maybe still a losing battle, but I don't care: we do what we can.

And? Still: I found myself thinking, if this guy wants to fuck me raw, I might let him. He was the one who got me out of that predicament, though. He reached for the condom on his own. In a way, I was relieved. 

He didn't fuck me for very long, but he sure did it well. I shifted on the bed in my room so he could fuck my ass right over the side. It was wonderful, and of course I never thought about how big his belly was—only how good he was at fucking me. And then he jerked me off until I came, with his cock in my ass, a rare gift of an orgasm scenario at the bathhouse. He smeared some of it on my chest. That part wasn't my favorite. At least I got to shower shortly after.

I spasmed a couple of times after cumming. He left the room, after telling me how great that was, and I said it was great too. I went and took a shower, to wash off the cum. I considered hanging out for a while longer, but I found myself just not interested at all. When I walked past a digital screen with information including the time, I was astonished to see it was all of 6:36. Damn! I mean, I guess now I can just go home and spend the rest of my evening on the couch with my husband. 

3/15/2025

Now, the not as great news: one of the guys I fucked, I spent some time finger fucking, and it turned out a little gross. At one point I pulled my fingers out, and I could feel something that was definitely not just lube between my fingertips. Yuck. Worse yet, I have washed my hands three times—for a full twenty seconds each time, something I have never stopped doing since covid came along—and still my fingers have a slightly detectable "butt smell" to them. In a weird way, my hands do smell clean, but I can still detect a sort of olfactory whiff of that guy's hole, which was definitely not fully cleaned out.

That guy was young, fairly lithe, and kind of cute. He also had a tiny cock, almost shockingly so, and once he was riding my cock on the bed in the room I had rented, he went to town long enough that he broke a sweat. And having my thighs covered in his sweat might have been more tolerable, except for, you know, that whole butt thing.

At least that experience was sandwiched by better ones. Well, except for the other guy before him who also had come into my room and sat on my cock within seconds. Mind you, in both cases I insisted on a condom—just as I had with the guy who topped me. In all cases, they all would have happily fucked bareback, but at least none of them balked at all when I said "Not without a condom." The tiny dicked guy, though, he also had something that felt like tiny skin tags of some sort on the backs of both thighs. Everything about him was kind of physically suspect.

The first guy I had sex with, though, was a fairly beefy Black guy with an African accent. I was in the small common play room by myself, and when he came in he said, "Do you want to play?" I said, "Maybe," mostly because I was taking a moment to decide if I was attracted to him. He had a bit of a belly but the kind that a guy can have when still fairly fit; he was bald; he seemed relatively young—younger than I am, for sure. He opened his towel immediately, though, and I must say, he had a great cock. It was in my mouth pretty soon, and damn, do I love to suck a good cock.

I wasn't even expecting this guy to fuck me, but after only maybe five minutes of him letting me tug on his cock and then having me suck it, he pulled me up to stand, and was making to fuck me. I said he needed a condom. Getting the condom on was easy, but I had just one packet of KY lube, and it was difficult to get it open. We finally got it done, and it wasn't quite enough, but we made it work.

This guy really pounded me, and for quite a while. It felt like a super long time but may have been something more like ten minutes. Several times, I had to press back against his thighs to get him to pound my ass a bit more gently. Still, there were moments when he was pounding me so hard that I felt almost on the verge of a hands-free orgasm, something I have never managed. But, it just kept becoming too uncomfortable. It would have worked a lot better if I had, say, an actual bottle of lube instead of just that one little packet. I actually thought about telling him I needed to go back to my room to get another lube packet, as I did have more there.

He turned me around and on my back, and pounded my ass hanging off the side of the cot in the middle of the room. Finally I actually said, "Ow, ow," and he actually registered it: "Does it hurt?" "A little," I said. We did manage to get a bit more lube pressed out of that packet, and that helped for a minute or two. Eventually he had me stand up and lean over the cot again, and as long as he pounded me with a good rhythm but not excessively hard, it was very satisfying. Honestly I was grateful just to be getting fucked again at all.

He finally stopped, and I could not tell if he came or not, even though he ended the fucking abruptly enough, and then I saw him moments later in the showers, all of which would suggest he came. I had slumped back onto the bench along the wall, completely out of breath, and kind of amusingly, the guy gave me a fist bump before exiting the room. After a few seconds, I got up to leave too, and the one guy who had stayed long enough to watch us finish actually said to me, "Good job!" That slightly cracked me up.

My husband has joined a local gay nudist group, where some sex also happens, along with a potluck. That was a nearly hour-long drive from home, and is the only reason I went to Steamworks on a Saturday yet again—just like I did last month, for the same reason. The difference was that I also had to renew my six-month membership this time, which meant I had to combine my $47, pre-6pm weekend standard room fee with the $30 six-month membership price, and I paid a total of $77 to go to Steamworks this time around. I'm pretty sure that's by a pretty wide margin the most I have ever paid to visit a gay bathhouse. I think next time I will aim for pre-6pm on either a Thursday (when there are more twinks, because 29-and-under get in free) or a Friday (when the start of the weekend means at least somewhat larger crowd, albeit not as large typically as Saturday nights). In either of those cases I can get in just renting a standard room for $32. That's less than half what I paid today, and 30% less than I'd have paid today had I not had to renew my membership.

Anyway, my husband thought I might be in and out of there in two hours, because that's what happened last time. "It really varies," I said. And indeed, at least I did not have to commit to the four hours I usually stay there before giving up, and hell, I got fucked within the first hour—but, I was still horny, and knew I could get an orgasm out of playing with someone else after that. I just wound up fucking two other guys who weren't that great first. The first guy I fucked in my room sat on my cock and then left maybe two minutes later, I suspect because my cock was too uncomfortable for him, maybe? The second guy, the sweaty guy with the tiny cock and skin tags, was very happy with my cock and told me I had a great one. Eventually, though, he asked if I wanted to continue fucking him or take a break, and I said I needed a break. I went to take a shower mostly to wash his sweat off of me, and in the shower I noticed a tiny piece of turd under one of my fingernails. As I said, I have thoroughly washed my hands three times since then. I washed them for twenty seconds while taking that shower, then again in the sinks outside the showers, and then yet again after I got home.

Once it was getting closer to 9:00, Steamworks was getting busier, and it was easier to walk around and see some other people getting action. In the large play room, one guy in a jock strap was perched over a bench, just letting guys make a train, taking turns fucking him. Some of the tops were hot, some not. The bottom was hot. It was overall super hot to watch.

I had sat on the bench along the wall near them just so I could get a good vantage point to watch. And then this guy in a baseball cap and a short beard, he must have been in his thirties, approached me and I let him tug on my cock. Moments later he spread my legs so he could kneel between them and suck my cock. This was the guy who sucked me off until I came. He really seemed to have a thing for me throwing my legs over his shoulders, and squeezing his head between my thighs.

3/11/2025

I did not go to the bathhouse this time. I went to a nude event that turned out to be pretty sexualized, but I didn't really participate. I went with my husband, who wanted to go, and I went along for a bit really just to humor him. I still can't really write about it in detail on my regular blog, though, so I'm writing about it here.

There's a bar in the city I live, one that has been around a long time—it opened in 1993. A major real estate development in 2010 forced them to close their longtime location on the edge of our gay neighborhood, but they reopened in a new location in 2011 about a mile away, and have been there ever since. It's too bad, because the original location was all of one block from where I live, but whatever. In any case, it remains a very old-school gay dive bar kind of place, with the kind of gay-porny decor you'd have expected of such a place thirty years ago.

By extension, they also have some pretty subversive events—more so than I even realized, until my husband told me about it. He recently joined our city's Men In Leather organization, so I suspect that was where he heard about it: on certain Monday nights, they host a "Naked Night." And don't get me wrong, I already knew that there were some seedier (in the best way) bars in town where some sexual depravity occurs. I just didn't realize this particular bar was one of them.

"Naked Night" clearly occurs very much under the radar, maybe because its legality is dubious. Hmm. Well, I guess it used to be: I just looked it up, and our state only last year repealed a "lewd conduct" law that prohibited lewd conduct in establishments with a liquor license. I know these events have been going on since before that occurred, though—I found a twitter post from someone last spring asking if anyone else was going to Naked Night that month. Still, when my husband and I walked there and went into the entrance, all the windows were covered in black so you could not see inside, and even the guy checking the ID was just outside a second doorway with black strips hanging that you had to walk through. And he made sure we knew what was going on: "You know this is Naked Night?"

Yep, it was precisely what my husband was there for. It should be noted that my husband loves being naked, whether it's in a sexual environment or not. He loves the nude beaches. He goes to nudist potlucks. And he was very interested in this event.

I had no idea what to expect, and was stunned when we walked in and the place was packed with naked men—some were clothed, so I didn't feel totally out of place. But, I couldn't have seen more than 10 guys in there with clothes on. I must admit I was titillated from the moment we walked in. There was a lot of hot guys, but the thing I was really stuck by, and which I genuinely think was a beautiful thing, was the broad variety—of body types, of penis sizes, of hairy or smooth, and particularly of age. My city is not the most diverse in the country in terms of race, but there was a visible minority of people of color in there, a few Black guys and several Asian guys. But by all the other measures, it was a shockingly diverse crowd. Even in terms of height.

The system they had in place was very organized and clearly well used. There's a sort of coat check area, where people go, take off all their clothes, and put them in a paper sack. I paid the five bucks using the Venmo QR code o a sign they had set up on the counter. They give you a ticket, but given the nakedness and obvious lack of pockets (although many men had pouches worn with a strap around their chest), people obviously lose them easily. They suggested everyone take a photo of their ticket.

My husband had brought a harness to wear, and was a little self-conscious about it when he couldn't tell if anyone else was wearing one. I spotted a guy who was wearing one, though, pointed him out, and so my husband went ahead and put the harness on. He wore that, a cock ring, and checked everything else.

Me being there was somewhat comical, I think: I never even took my pea coat off. I was wearing a scarf. I saw maybe one other person in there who was as fully covered up as I was. And this might seem surprising, my reticence given how often I go to the bathhouse which is a space designed for sex in all corners. Two things to say about that: First, this was a new context and therefore an unusual environment for me, although having been to it now, I may consider going another time and actually getting naked. I'm not sure how I'll get alerted to the event, unless someone shares the secret date with my husband—that changed law notwithstanding, this event is not listed on the bar's website or anywhere else I can find online. I'm actually kind of impressed by what an apparently well-kept secret it is. And second, it was a Monday night and I had to get up for work at 5:15 in the morning. I needed a quick exit when I was ready to go, and checking all my clothes was going to hinder that.

Anyway. They had pens available for people to write their names somewhere on their chest, usually just under a clavicle. I wrote my husband's name for him, between a harness strap and his right nipple.

We got in line for drinks at the bar. I took in the scenery. I kind of loved it. My husband bought me a Moscow Mule, himself a beer, and we meandered around the bar a bit.

I only stayed a little while, but long enough for me to take in the scenery—90% naked men, cocks out all over the place, packed in there largely, let's say, cheek to cheek. My husband and I kind of worked our way around the bar, and he stopped and chatted briefly with a couple of people, who I think he knew from his nude potlucks—where, I only learned a while after he started going, sex also happens (which I'm fine with). We walked down a narrow hallway in the back of the bar, in the middle of which was a small nook area where several guys were standing. This was where I saw one man on his knees, giving head to another guy. The guy standing was gently thrusting his cock in and out of that mouth.

We made our way to the opposite side of the bar, via that pathway along the back wall, and found a slightly open area to stand against another partial wall that was below a slightly elevated area with people in it. I looked to my left, and on the other side of a nearby table, I saw two guys, both of them pretty hot and with deliciously thick cocks, making out while gently jerking each other off.

I do find myself wondering if some actual fucking might have happened later in the evening. This is a regular bar and not a bathhouse, so is there different etiquette when it comes to bodily fluids? I did not see anyone cum, but those two guys making out were both rock hard and I really wondered how it would be dealt with if either of them came. I did love how easy it was to see, though: the bar still had standard lighting, not bright but certainly not dim the way bathhouses are. You could see everything crystal clear, a difference I always find frustrating in the dimness of Steamworks.

When I was much younger, this whole scenario would have seriously freaked me out. Even now, I wasn't ready to disrobe in this environment, my extensive exprience at bathhouses notwithstanding. Still, I was fine being there, and actually kind of loved it, just observing if not actively participating. There was even a moment, before our first meander round the bar, when a guy who hosted their last nude potluck location came up to my husband and, while they chatted, he gently tugged on my husband's cock. It was like a sexualized handshake, and I witnessed similar greetings between many other men in there.

I shudder to think about the passage of germs. I don't think I have even been to the bathhouse with it that crowded since before the pandemic. At about 9:30 I told my husband that I was going home, and I don't even know yet how long he stayed there. I'm guessing he engaged more physically with people after I left, having been freed of any concern for me. I'm sure I can ask him; I'm just at work while I write this, fantasizing about sucking cock in a crowded bar—a version of public sex, which is one of my biggest turn-ons. My favorite thing about this event is how underground and depraved it feels, sex in a place it is not normally expected to occur, without regard to who might be witnessing. Somewhat ironically, even though I went in and out without even taking off a single stitch of clothing, I'm glad I went. It's also making me much more inclined to go back to the bathhouse soon.

2/22/2025

It was a Saturday evening visit to Steamworks this time around—historically the night of the week that works out worst for me, but I've just been gettin kind of lucky every time I go lately, regardless of the day of the week. The last three visits have been, respectively, on a Thursday (December 26), a Friday (1/10) and a Saturday (2/22), and I've had good experiences all three times. I don't feel like anything in particular has changed, so maybe it's just random. It kind of always has been. Maybe I've been seeing patterns in past visits that weren't really there, I don't know.

As regular readers already know, the last two times I went were both while my husband was out of the country on a three-week trip visiting family. December 26 and January 10 were all of two weeks apart. This time, it's been six weeks since I last went. I last paid for a six-month membership on September 12, which means after March 12 I will have to re-up the membership. That's two and a half weeks away, and I should try and return before then so I can get at least one more visit under the current membership without having to fork over more money.

I already had to spend $47 for a standard room today. If I had gone yesterday instead, and arrived before 6 p.m., I'd only have had to pay $30. But, the timing was better tonight. My husband goes to a social group of nudists that apparently combine potlucks with sex parties—it's his thing; I've never gone. I'd rather stick with bathhouses, honestly, even though they cost me more. But you know what they don't cost me? Social capital. Social anxiety. Social effort. At a bathhouse I can play with multiple men and hardly say anything at all and I like it that way.

Two different guys not only played with me tonight, but seemed super into me. In the first instance, I sat on the long bench in the large common play room, not far from where a guy was getting his cock sucked, and a third guy was kind of inserting himself in between them. in a way that did not seem unwelcome. But, the third guy caught my eye, and as soon as we made eye contact, he walked right over to me. We immediately started making out. I'm not quite sure what got into me, but I made out with both guys tonight even though it's something I usually avoid. Hopefully I don't wind up with cold sores. Genital herpes is more than enough, I must say. Although I wonder if I have both HSV1 and HSV2 and perhaps the latter helps keep the former dormant? I have no idea.

Anyway. I didn't waste any time asking if this guy wanted to come to my room, and he said yes. He was a White guy with a relatively handsome face who looked like he was in his thirties. As soon as we got inside my door, he asked, "Are you a sub?" Okay, way to read me like a book, I guess? "Yeah," I said. He pulled my hair a few times and it was super hot. He kept wanting me to twist his nipples, though, and one time I did it a bit too hard and he asked me to take it easy. That didn't feel very dom-y to me but whatever.

He sucked my cock for a bit. I sucked on his nipples, which he clearly loved. They really stuck out, more than most. He seemed into it, but after several minutes, I was on my back on my bed, he ground himself against my chest a but, and then he suddenly stopped, thanked me, and left the room. There was a small wet spot on my sheet that I noticed later. Did he cum? Just that little bit? I don't really know what happened there, but I just hung out for a bit with my room's door open.

There was a young man who came in and fondled me for a moment. He opened his towel so I could fondle him, and he had boxer briefs on. I didn't quite understand that. His cock was not very big and it did not get very hard. He left after just a few short minutes.

I was at Steamworks only about two hours tonight. I got there shortly after 5:30, aiming to arrive before the 6:00 price hike. I thought about cleaning out at home first, but I didn't want to do that while my husband was still home—his event was about an hour later—and besides, it seemed safest to have cleaned out as recently as possible when I was ready to play. The setup is better at the Steamworks cleaning stations anyway, with a little pipe for filling douche bottles with water right next to the toilet. I was done with that right around 6:00. And given that I left by about 7:30, if you discard the half hour it took for me to get cleaned out, I hung out at Steamworks all of 90 minutes or so before I got off and had an incredible orgasm.

The second guy to come into my room, after my body language clearly indicated he was invited, could have been anywhere from 30 to 40. He could have been Black or Brown. He had a beard. He was somewhat thick, but still attractive enough. Most pertinently, he was incredibly skilled at cock sucking.

Most of our time together was spent with him sucking my cock. He did it very well. He also caressed much of the rest of my body sporadically while he did it, which was lovely. A couple of times, he took a break to bring his face up to mine and make out with me for a few moments. It was super sensual and erotic. He seemed to have no interest whatsoever in involving his own cock in the proceedings, which was slightly disappointing but whatever. 

I haven't managed to get fucked by anyone besides my husband since 2023. This is my least favorite thing about my current Bathhouse Era, but it's been more consistently satisfying otherwise so I suppose I can't complain. After a while with this guy tonight, he finally clocked that I was eager for anal stimulation, and he started sticking his finger in my hole. The thing is, after all that time cleaning out and now having tried, it wasn't quite as pleasant as it could have been—even while it did seriously turn me on. After a few minutes, I reached for my lube packet, opened it, and wiped some lube against my hole. He then inserted two fingers at once easily, and it was glorious. 

And a few minutes after that, this was how I climaxed: no longer on my back but now slightly on my side, my right leg lifted and wrapped around this man's body, his mouth swallowing my cock and his fingers up my ass. Guys sucking cock so often want my load down their throat, it's pretty predictable. Usually I don't want to cum that way, hoping to hold out for some ass fucking. But the fingers in my ass were really doing it for me, and he moved his fingers in and out while I thrust into his mouth. I came so hard that we both took a few moments to catch our breath when we were done. I had several body spasms in the wake of it. "Whoo!" he said, more than once, as though it were just as amazing for him. I told him it was amazing.

1/10/2025

Okay, well. I don't think visiting the bathhouse three times while my husband is out of town is going to happen. But, I did just manage my second time this evening—two weeks and one day after my last visit. 

I kind of feel like I got a deal, too. I noted in my last post that their standard room rates go up to $45 before 6pm on weekends, $60 after. It even says on their website: "Our 'weekend' begins at 6pm every Friday and ends at 6am every Monday. —Oh. Wait a minute. This just hit me. I was just thinking "Weekend" starts on Friday, so I'd be paying $45 if I got there before 6:00 tonight. I was surprised to find, when I got there, that it was still $30 just like on Thursdays. Now that I've correctly processed their definition of "weekend," that would indeed mean it's $30 before 6:00 on Fridays—and on that day alone, after 6:00 it doubles, to $60! Be careful what time you go to the bathhouse on Fridays if you are budget-conscious, guys.

I did not have high hopes that I would have an experience as spectacular the very next time I came back to the bathhouse. My experience on December 26 was shockingly incredible—and topping, to boot. And sure, it wasn't quite as great tonight, but it was still far better than average. I had great experiences with not one, not two, but three different guys.

None of them were especially hot. And neither am I! So totally in my league, I guess. A stupid thing to say considering how many guys I found insanely hot have also played with me. Here's what these three guys had that many of the hot ones didn't: they were actually good at sex. Well, okay, most of the time they were. 

Side note: I have a lesbian friend who heard my use of the word "top" and almost got confused. It seems lesbians have a very different common conception of "top" and "bottom," where it has far less to do with penetration and more to do with power play, something more akin to "dom" and "sub." Well, maybe it's just different with gay men. The common understanding has long been that the top is the penetrator and the bottom is the penetrated. Even though I already mentioned in my last post how a guy that came in to orally top the guy I was fucking effectively topped me as well. It was glorious.

But we don't need to rehash that! I was at Steamworks today for about three hours. I suppose the experience was something close to playing with one guy per hour. 

I rented a "Standard Room," as always. I had considered reverting to a locker rental just for today in order to save money, then decided against it. Finding out I would only have to pay $30 rather than $45 was just icing on the cake. I would not have gotten nearly as much action tonight without the rented room, either. And unlike most nights renting a room there, I had plenty of action in the room itself. In fact, this was indeed probably a first, playing with three different guys, all of them in my room rather than any in either their room or a common area.

The first two guys both went out of their way to introduce themselves to me. The first one, Jason, was the most unusual. He very definitely had a foot thing. Foot fetish is by far the most common fetish out there, and it is absolutely not for me. Not as a bottom, anyway. Keep your fucking feet away from me. But if someone wants to come to my open bathhouse room door and start massaging my feet? Sign me up!

Jason and I spent a lot of time together. Most of it was him giving me a massage. He was pretty subtle about it, but while he massaged my foot while holding up my lower leg slightly, he would also press his cock slightly into my foot. So I went ahead and pressed my foot into his cock, because why not? Not a big deal. I can do that. All three of tonight's guys were varying degrees of paunchy, and Jason had his underwear on with a bit of a belly hanging over the front. Honestly, with what little I could see in the dim light, I did not find him attractive at all. He seemed relatively young. He could have been 30. 

He asked me if I wanted a massage. Sure! People have given me a massage many times over the nearly 15 years I have now been going to bathhouses, but I can't even remember the last time it happened. It's been a long time. He motioned for me to turn over on my belly, and so I did. He massaged my neck, my shoulders, my back. He spent a lot of time doing this, and eventually made his way down to my legs, which he complimented several times. This guy loved my legs. I do have good legs; I'm a walker, and during the warm half of the month, I commute by bicycle. In terms of conventional beauty standards, my legs may actually be my greatest asset. Anyway Jason also massaged my butt a little a couple of times, but really did not focus on it. My legs and feet were the only body parts he truly lingered on.

Here's the most unusual thing about Jason. He never seemed to get fully hard, but I suppose that must have helped here: he would wedge his cock between my toes. I would squeeze, and he would get super turned on by it. Basically, Jason fucked my toes. I never had anyone fuck my toes before. "Fuck" might be too strong a word, though; it makes it easy to imagine him violently thrusting his cock through my toes. I guess you could say, more accurately, that Jason made love to my toes.

Eventually he asked me if I minded if he came on my feet. This is certainly not at the top of my bucket list, but I was good with giving Jason the kind of good time I can only assume not many people immediately indulge. I took a brief beat, then said, "That's fine." Then I kept thinking about how I knew I would want to have another guy in the room to play with after him, and how having my sheet wet with Jason's cum might complicate that. He never came, though. He continued massaging me for a good while, the entire time making it easy for me to just pay there, naked, totally relaxed. It was actually quite wonderful. He said more than once he hopes he can see me again, and I just told him I come there regularly. He also said what I did with my feet was "so hot," so I guess I'm happy to have been of service. Eventually he slipped back out of the room, and I returned to laying naked on my back, watching porn, stroking my cock with the door open.

Next was Cayden. This guy was both huskier and more fit than Jason. He had a beard, which I usually don't care for but this guy's was well groomed and made him handsome. I would guess he was younger than Jason. 

Cayden stopped by my door, and stepped in when I gazed upon him and continued stroking myself. He set upon sucking my cock pretty quickly. Then he sucked my nipple, and it was fantastic. Cayden made liberal use of his tongue. He kind of licked me all over, especially on my neck, which I loved. At one point, he straddled over me, and came very close to getting my bare cock into his ass, which I quickly moved away.

After a few minutes, and after he introduced himself to me, Cayden said, "See you round. Unless you want to do something else?" When I indicated I might, he asked, "Can I sit on it?" I said, "only with a condom." He said that was fine, I put the condom on, and he straddled me.

I will say this: once Cayden was fucking himself with my cock, he became less good at, let's say, mutual pleasure. Now it was just all about bouncing that thicc ass on my cock. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't that great either. He came within just a few short minutes. He actually said, "I'm sorry, I came." No need to apologize! I wasn't especially enjoying that part anyway—but  was happy to have another notch on my bedpost, so to speak. It's really more like a notch in a spreadsheet. Cayden was in and out much more quickly than Jason, and I had to go and wash off in the shower again.

I walked straight there from work, by the way, which got me there at about 5:15. This gave me plenty of time to spend one of the slower hours in the douche station, though my bowels are working very well today and therefore the process was mercifully much quicker than usual. Still, it felt like a good reason to go today rather than considering another day before my husband returns. I still prefer Thursdays, but I had other plans last night and will again on Thursday next week. 

All this to say, it was past 6:00 when I started getting my massage from Jason, and it must have been somewhere close to 7:00 when Cayden came in. And then, after returning to the room, it wasn't long before the third guy came in.

In the past, this was a guy I would have rejected immediately. I would guess he was 15 years older than I am at minimum, and I'm 48. He was possibly in better shape than the other two, at least for his age, and in spite of his own pudgy belly—probably about as pudgy as mine. This guy came in and first stroked my cock for a second, though, and then he started to suck it, and he was very good at it.

None of the three guys fucked me, but this guy was the one who made cleaning out worth the effort: after I responded in a way that made it clear my asshole was available for it, he did finger me. So, not only did he suck my cock really well, while also giving one of my nipples just the right amount of pinch, with his other hand he first tickled around my hole, but later stuck two fingers about as far into my ass as they could go. Occasionally he would take them out to spit/lick on them as a form of lube, and they would go back into my hole again. It was amazing.

This guy also had a beard, one I did not like as much, mostly because it made him look like an old man: the beard and the hair on his head—at least he wasn't bald, which I probably will be by the time I'm whatever this guy's age is—were white. But, again: that hardly mattered given how good he was at what he was doing.

I would guess that this guy and Cayden were with me for roughly the same amount of time. The older man was just far better at what he was doing, for the entire time he did it. And he very definitely wanted to ingest my cum, because when I finally blew my load with a singularly pleasurable and relatively long-lasting orgasm, he slurped it down without spilling a drop. He took a beat before very gently taking his fingers out of my ass, and then he thanked me. You're welcome! Bon appétit!

12/26/2024

Wha-ho! Emphasis on ho!

I truly cannot remember the last time I had such a spectacularly excellent experience at the bathhouse. And after every other time I've gone this year—all four of them—it was quite the delightful surprise, finally to get some action that actually makes it worth going. Certain worth the $30 I can pay for a "standard room" by getting in the door before 6 p.m. on a Thursday, anyway. After 6:00, that goes up to $40. On a weekend, it's $45 before 6:00 and $60 after. Their prices are out of control! I mean, prices go up, capitalism, inflation, etc, whatever.

Here's the real kicker: I didn't even bottom today. I topped. And it was spectacular! I honestly don't think I have ever been able to say that before. But, I'm learning to make the most of the opportunities that are more limited than what I want, especially at my age (48). I had a good ten years or so there where I looked so much younger than i actually was, in my thirties, that people assumed I was in my twenties. Those days are over. And people want to fuck twinks, they don't, on average at least, want to fuck middle-aged guys. They want to be fucked by them. Even if they're as girly as I am.

From the other side of that equation: I can confirm. If I have to be the top, I'd much rather fuck a svelte twink. And that's what I got today. This young man in his room, door ajar, blindfold on and perched on all fours on his bed, ass hanging over the side of it.

I walked past his room a few times, tempted but too chicken at first. I did think about it rationally: the guy's literally asking for it. But, I did not longer at the open doorway until I saw another guy fucking him. It was so hot I could hardly stand it.

I had already been voyeur to far hotter fucking than I even usually get to winess. There was a larger than normal number of young, fit men there tonight. Presumably this was because it was "Boys Night," where anyone under the age of 29 gets in for free. This has long been what makes Thursdays a better day for me, at least historically. I haven't quite aged out of the "older" bracket many young men fetishize, although I think I'm getting close. Not that I have any actual data to back up that claim, which probably just comes from my own insecurities.

I've also been steadily gaining weight over the holidays. Not a lot, but it's been inching upward and that makes me even more self-conscious about going to the bathhouse. Stupid, stupid. I had the best sex of the entire year tonight!

Anyway. I got to see several of these incredibly hot young men fucking in the smaller common room. There was that incredibly fit guy with a stunning body who I've seen there countless times now, he must be in his thirties, and sometimes he plays with me and sometimes he doesn't; it never goes anywhere and I find that annoying. When I walked in this time, there was a gorgeous dark-haired young man on his back on the cot in the middle of the room, fit-thirties-guy riding his cock. They switched positions a couple of times. That dark-haired guy left after a few minutes. Another dark-haired young man with sexy stubble and glasses had started playing with a young Asian guy, both of them standing next to the cot. Fit-thirties-guy moved over to them once the previous guy left the room. The guy with glasses fucked the Asian guy standing up, with fit-thirties-guy standing in front of the Asian bottom, kissing and caressing, etc. Eventually the guy with glasses and the Asian guy spent quite a while fucking, in several positions, on the cot.

I just sat on the bench, watching. It was incredibly hot, and I was beyond turned on. Eventually they finished and the small crowd that had gathered cleared out of the room, and so did I.

After that, I spent a small amount of time sitting on the bench in the large play room that used to be the sauna. I haven't been back to Steamworks in over three months, since September, and they have some new renovations since I was last there: the doorway between the large playroom and the shower area has been closed, with a giant LED TV screen showing gay porn now stands in front of it on the playroom side. As if to serve as a replacement for the doorway that used to go to the showers, one of the private rooms that used to be on the other side of the wall opposite the long bench has been converted into a small pathway into the large playroom. So now there are still entrances at either end of the playroom, just with one of them off to the side. I meandered through there several times while I was just killing time.

As I was killing time now, after watching all that hot fucking, I hadn't even cum or anything, but I went flaccid for a while. I only got hard again after that when I watched the guy before me fucking the blindfolded twink in his room. A few other guys gathered around me to watch as well. A South Asian guy started to fondle my cock, which was okay. But then he tried to just back his ass against my bare cock and so I backed away from him.

A large Black man was fucking the twink. It was very hot to watch. He finished, and the twink re-adjusted his blindfold and hung his ass over the bed again. Finally, I thought I would take advantage of this opportunity. The other guys who had gathered just moved on, but I wanted that ass. It was right there, begging to be taken. I mean literally. What use would there be in being self-conscious about this?

To be clear, I still would have far preferred getting fucked. Knowing it was unlikely, though, I gave myself a stellar orgasm just last night using a giant butt plug with three tapered heads, which I just fucked myself with like a dildo. I probably played with that for the best part of an hour, and I came a lot. It made me worry a little about being honry enough tonight, a rare Thursday I had free. I don't know what it was, but I was still plenty horny tonight. In any case, it might be a good game plan going forward to do it like this: dildo play at home one night, find a twink to fuck the next. It's a nice way to get the best of both worlds. This is not something I could often do with my husband around, but he's on a trip to India for three and a half weeks. I may just go ahead and repeat this process again next week.

I stick my finger in the twink's ass first. Without moving his blindfold, he leaned his head back and asked, "Are you okay with using a condom?" Nice! "It's what I prefer," I said. And I put the condom on, lubed my rock hard cock, and slid right into him.

Now, I should clarify that there was a lot of external factors that helped make this super hot for me, without which, I could probably just have fucked this guy indefinitely without ever getting hot enough to cum. As it was, people again gathered in the doorway to watch, and I do love being watched when I'm fucking. (I prefer being watched while getting fucked, but, you can't have everything.)

Even better was, after I was already fucking this guy for quite a while, another guy came in, and fed the twink his cock. By this point the twink had moved to lay lengthwise on his bed on his stomach, and I was fucking him from behind. I went slow or faster depending on the mood, and the twink seemed to love it all. If I must top someone, hearing them moan in pleasure is a great help. So is seeing the bottom suck another cock, which the top shoved into my mouth a couple of times as well. 

This top got a little rough. So fucking hot! I have taken to watching porn with really rough tops, some where the bottom is clearly into getting smacked around, sometimes pretty severely. This top wasn't overly rough, but he did slap the twink's face a couple of times while stuffing his mouth with his cock, and gagged him on it a couple of times. The twink loved it all. The top even pulled my hair briefly, which was heaven.

Another guy came in, and shut the door. For a bit there, we were a kind of foursome, althoufh I was the only one fucking. I never got out until I was done, and I couldn't tell you how long I fucked that buy but it had to have been somewhere between half an hour and an hour. Forty-five minutes, maybe? Perhaps closer to half an hour. I don't know! I didn't use a stop watch. I just know it was probably longer than I had fucked anyone in my life.

The twink really wanted me to cum while fucking him, and I could certainly relate. I totally get it! I probably would not have been able to cum at all were it not for that rough stuff, and I could hardly believe how long that twink could take my pounding. Finally, I began to cum. "Yes, yes," the twink said. "I can feel it!" This was still with the barrier of my condom, mind you. Even with a condom, sex is so much better when the top climaxes while still inside you.

That is my gift. I am a gift to twinks! Or bottoms everywhere. It was kind of interesting how that top could tell I was happy to be submissive even as I topped the twink. 

I had the kind of orgasm that elicited full-body spasms, which happened a couple of times after I pulled out of the twink and stood up, grabbing my towel. "You came?" the top asked. "Yeah," I said, sliding my hand on the twink's beautiful little butt.

I feel reassured, honestly. This is the first time I have discovered that topping can actually be deeply sexually fulfilling to me, circumstances depending. 

I had walked straight there after work, just to guarantee I could get in before 6:00. I had my douche nozzle in my backpack, and I did take about fifteen minutes in the douche station to clean myself out. I never even had to clean out last night, amazingly able to get that butt plug super far into me without painting it at all. I wouldn't have had the same luck tonight, so it's good I managed to clean out. Even though I never got fucked. But, the fourth guy that had come into the twink's room fingered my hole a little bit.

The top also stuck his fingers around the twink's hole while I was fucking it. He very nearly stuck his fingers in. This, again, just turned me on even more. 

I had gotten there shortly before 5:30. I was done within two hours. If only every bathhouse visit could be like this!

I know I've been going far less frequently than I used to, especially this year—five bathhouse visits total in 2024, only four of them even worth writing about, not a single one with any one fucking me—a first in all my years of bathhouse-going, in fact. I have either fucked or played to the point of orgasm with six people besides my husband this year, same as I did last year; only the pandemic year of 2020 had fewer (3). I also only had sex with my husband four times this year, compared to five each last year and the year before that; between that and how much less frequently I go to the bathhouse, you'd think I've started to grow out of my sexuality.

I'm not sure it's quite that, though, I still jerk off most days, and honestly, as a rule I give myself far better orgasms than I ever get at the bathhouse. Now, if I could have an experience like tonight every time I go, I would still be going a hell of a lot more often. Also, I just have a very active social life! I literally mark my calendar to make the time to go, you know, three months after the last time I went.

Well! I'm really hoping to take advantage of the time to myself these next three weeks. I should go back once more, if not twice more, before January 19 when my husband returns. Right now I'm looking at next week; I haven't even managed two visits in the same month since March 2022. The last time I went twice only two weeks apart was in March 2019, another time my husband was out of town.

9/13/2024

I'm going to keep this short today because although I went to Steamworks last night—first time since July—there just wasn't a whole lot to write home about. Or to write about here, specifically.

I was there for two and a half hours. I got almost no action at all, save for a pretty exceptional blowjob I got minutes after arriving. I was there at about 6:00 and the crowd was pretty thick for an early Thursday evening. And this guy, who was maybe within my decade age range and was in pretty good shape, came to suck my cock while I was sitting on the long bench that lines the wall in the large common play room that used to be the steam room, years ago. I still can't decide if I wish it were still a steam room. It's kind of ironic they even still call the place Steamworks when this one has neither baths nor a steam room; the only spots outside the regular bathrooms that even have running water are the communal showers.

Anyway, I actually thought to myself while the guy was giving me head: This guy is very good at his job. I don't normally want to cum this early in a visit to the bathhouse, but he was so good, I decided I was going to go with it. What ended up happening was something like a quasi-orgasm. I felt like something came out of my cock, to a certain degree, but there was definitely not the convulsive, conventional orgasm with a thick load.

So: do I count this in my statistics of people I have had sex with? I have decided to say yes. The guy himself got up and left openly satisfied, I can say that much. He even said "Thanks baby" right before he walked away. That makes him the 269th guy I have had sex with, though the number of guys with whom I have done anal still stands at 198.

That was really the extent of the action I got, though. I sat around in there for a while, and then decided I would go back to my room just because I didn't want to have wasted paying for one. (I had to renew my six-month membership, on top of renting a room, which combined cost me $55—and that's with the weekday, before-6:00-entry discount). There was one guy who came into my room a couple of times, and based on his look I'd have happily played with him, except that when he grabbed my cock he was very careless and jerky with it, no sense of sensuality whatsoever. What planet is this guy from? My cock is not a Shake Weight.

I had maybe three different people creep into my door and inquire in their different ways. I found none of them attractive and gave my subtle cues that I was not interested. I did encounter one guy with whom I clearly could have had some serious fucking: we passed in the hallway, he stopped, asked what I like to do. "I like bottoming," I said. "I'm dom top," he said, in some kind of European accent. "You want to come to my room?"

His immediate introduction as "I'm dom top" gave me pause. This could seriously turn me on, if it were the kind of domming I actually want, but how do I know he wouldn't be more rough than I wanted? I gave into my instinct in this moment and said, "Maybe later." And I really did think I might reconsider, but I never encountered him again.

Come to think of it, last night was kind of a night of instinctive decisions based on avoiding the possibility of anything regrettable. Later, the closest I got to some action was two incredibly hot guys fucking on the mat that's on the far wall in the large common play room, nestled into a corner created by the wall and two glory hole closets, with the holes opening to the bed side—I have gone into those closets many times to get a closer look at guys fucking on that mat, and I did for a bit last night as well. But in this instance, there was a White guy fucking a Brown guy while I watched from the end of the long bench that was closest to them.

And here we get to how small the queer community can be, and the sex club community even smaller: I see many of the same people there, and that's even these days when I only go once every few months. The White guy is someone who must be in his thirties, and who has played with me before—but, never more than foreplay type stuff, touching and stroking. He's hot enough I'd love to get fucked by him, or hell even fuck him, but that never happens with this guy.

Still, he kept looking over at me while he was fucking the Brown guy, being pretty obvious. I did not move until he nodded for me to come over. Oh my god, were both of them hot. I think the White guy was going a little flaccid, and he stopped fucking for a bit. The Brown guy stayed on his belly, ass up. I almost certainly could have just mounted him right there. I chose not to, because the Brown guy, although he definitely knew I was there—for a minute his foot was hanging off the edge of the bed between my legs, even touching one of them—never looked back at me, had no idea what I even looked like, and certainly never made any invitations of his own. I don't even care about the possibilities of what he may have found acceptable, without an enthusiastic yes, I might as well regard this guy as a "no."

There's something about the vibe of the White guy that I don't quite like anyway. Don't get me wrong, if he wanted to fuck I would absolutely have done so. But I don't think I lost out on much by not getting it; I felt somewhat toyed with by him in the past.

I was just looking over my stats, and it really makes me miss the days of more frequent bottoming. I have yet to get fucked my anyone this year besides my husband. I managed to bottom twice each year in 2023 and 2022. I bottomed once in 2021 (for obvious reasons, during continued pandemic restrictions) and three times in 2020. In 2019? Sixteen times. What a dream!

I have kind of shifted back into a sort of self-consciousness about this, unsure as to whether it's just been random luck (very possible) or the mix of my "dad bod" body type with a rather cushy belly—which was never much of a hindrance on its own, to be fair—and my increasing age. The dim lights really make it difficult to guess people's ages, but my hair has been somewhere in the space between gray and solid white for a few years now. I'm still girly, with eyeliner and long fingernails, but I don't get mistaken for a woman as often as I used to, because I'm transforming into an old man. I'll be 50 in a year and a half.

I need to let all that stuff go, probably, given the wide variety of body types I often see (and saw particularly during the July visit) getting plenty of action with conventionally hot ones. My biggest issue is probably just my inability to take initiative and make passes at people. That hot young Brown guy was so horned up that he probably would have let me fuck him if I had just made a direct ask, but I still didn't like only being there because the White guy had gestured for me to come over.

The night certainly could have been worse. It came along way too early, but I still got an exceptional blowjob out of it.

7/7/2024

I'm back! And I went back to Steamworks on Friday night, two nights ago.

I realize that to you I'm back for the first time since February, the last time I posted—a long break indeed. The truth is, I did go back to Steamworks in April, but I did not write anything about it because it was a total bust, no action whatsoever. And that was on a Thursday, the day of the week I usually go and a day that usually works relatively well or me.

It wasn't even especially more crowded on Friday night, but I did fuck one guy and sucked off another. I even swallowed his load, something I have done very few times. And honestly, that part wasn't the greatest. Even though I'm getting horny now thinking back on it. Funny how that can go. But I'll come back to that.

I'm going to share some sad news first. I had originally been planning on returning to Steamworks, for the first time in three months, on Thursday this coming week. I made a somewhat spontaneous decision to go this past Friday instead because my husband was at work, and I was restless in this depressingly empty condo: I don't know if I ever mentioned here that we had two cats, but they recently both died, only six weeks apart. The first one died at home while we were both away, and when I returned I found her body in a position that had to have been very awful to die in. She was declining rapidly and we knew she was about to go but It was a deeply traumatic experience. Then, the other one began to decline roughly a month later—something I really hoped wouldn't happen so soon, but they were litter mates, had both just turned 16 this year, and had the same genetics. At least with the second one we had more agency in the matter, took him to the vet and had him put down in a more controlled environment, where we could comfort him as he passed peacefully. That happened just last Monday.

Honestly, I went to Steamworks on Friday just to give myself something to do. Watching TV at home wasn't cutting it, I needed to go out, and I hadn't made any plans with friends. I generally avoid going to the bathhouse on weekends for a multitude of reasons, such as how much more crowded they get, but especially how much more expensive it is: literally twice the price for the same thing. I can get a room at a discounted rate of $30 on a Thursday, but if it's past 6 p.m. on a Friday, that exact same room costs $60. Fuck that. So, for the first time in ages, I downgraded back down to a locker—which costs $15 on a weeknight but $30 on the weekend. So, I spent the same amount I usually do, and just got less out of it. Unfortunately neither of the two guys I played with had rooms either.

That was kind of okay, though. I really get off on fucking with people around watching. Public sex is one of my biggest fetishes, especially if they are in environments not explicitly designed for it: a crowded beach, on a bus, or the few clips I can find of people butt fucking in the middle of a dance floor or at a bar really get me off. I've never done any of these things, but I would if I had the opportunity and thought I could get away with it (a generally elusive set of circumstances for me), and I really love watching them in porn. Fucking in common spaces at the bathhouse is kind of a "close enough" approximation for me.

I was only there on Friday for about two and a half hours, maybe. It was a bit past 7:00 when I arrived, as it didn't even occur to me to go until around 6:30, and I then needed to spend some time cleaning out—an increasingly useless gesture, but you never know and you want to be prepared. I could be off base here but I feel like I'm kind of aging out of the "older guy fetish" that for a few years cute twinks were indulging in with me: I think they're more into guys in their early forties rather than late forties (I'm now 48) on average. Some of them are still into me on occasion; I know there's not some hard line there, but I can also see where trends are going in my life. The few pounds I have put on may be a factor, or I could be projecting: I know younger people aren't nearly as obsessed with body type these days as they were when I was younger. To a large degree, as it has always been, the bathhouse experience is simply a crapshoot (I absolutely do not mean that literally, haha!).

And I don't have any idea how old the first guy I played with was, but he appeared to be Asian, or maybe multiracial-Asian, and definitely much younger than I am. Maybe not quite "twink" young, but still a large age gap. He was relatively average in build, I suppose adequate as far as my physical responses. He was immediately enamored with the thickness of my cock, so that aspect hasn't quite gone away. We were in the common room with the bench along one long wall, the three large screens of porn mounted on the opposite wall. He sucked me off for only a couple of minutes before he asked, "Can I sit on your dick?" Such a romantic!

I said okay, but only with a condom. I had a condom in my hand, as I always do when walking around the bathhouse, and so I opened that and put it on. This guy straddled me facing forward and bounced with my cock up his ass for a bit. Then he asked to move to the mat in the middle of the room, where we fucked for a short while, in multiple positions, while others occasionally walked by. No one really stopped to watch, but it still turned me on to be doing it in front of people. We actually did it long enough that the guy said he needed to take a break, and thanked me.

Here's the thing. Over the course of the rest of the time I was there, I saw that guy get fucked by at least three other people. On the one hand, I was super jealous: he was living the dream. He was happy to take it raw with any top who didn't want to use a condom, and one rather overweight guy fucked him two different times that way. People can make their own decisions, whatever, but my interest in someone wanes when I see the extent to which they are sexually reckless. Also, and I know this is a little dumb, but seeing him get fucked by anyone who wanted it made me feel a little less special. And sue me, I like to feel attractive!

The next guy I played with helped me feel more that way—a tall Black man, not super fit but relatively fit, nice pecks with a shallow, soft rug of hair across it. He stopped as we passed each other in a hallway, we caught each other's eyes, began to caress each other's torsos. He gently grabbed either side of me and guided me to a place he clearly wanted to play. There's a small room with heat lamps in it, and when we walked in there, thinking it was empty, another Black man in a towel was sitting on a bench in there, which made us stop and clearly consider whether to find another place. The other guy just very politely said, "You can have it!" and got up and left. It was very considerate.

So this very sensual Black guy and I spent several minutes with our arms around and all over each other, nuzzling into necks, fondling each other. It was quite lovely. To be honest, as I had been mentally preparing for the possibility that this would be another bus and I'd have spent $30 for nothing, even while I was fucking the first guy I thought to myself: This is worth thirty bucks, I guess. I did have fun fucking that guy, although by the time he said he needed a break he had asked me, "Are you close?" and I had to reply, quite honestly, "I'm not going to cum topping."

I'd have absolutely loved it if this Black guy had fucked me, but that never happened, and again, I had no idea whether he'd want to use a condom anyway. Still, eventually he guided me back out of that room, and over to the glory hole closets where you can lock the doors and play in darkness. He got slightly more rough in there, though not too much, and I kind of liked it, when, say, he'd press his whole body against mine to pin it against the wall. Otherwise it was just more of the sensual caressing, just notably hornier.

Eventually he pressed me down in a clear indication he wanted to put his cock in my mouth, and I obliged. I'm pretty sure he said, "You want my cum?" but what I thought I heard at first was, "You want to cum?" It was seconds before I figured out what he probably actually said, though, because he hardly gave me time to answer before he just went ahead and came, into the back of my mouth. I gagged slightly, but swallowed as quickly as best I could, intent on keeping the cum in the back of my throat where I wouldn't much taste it. Oddly, I think I'd have liked that whole experience better if he'd had an actually audible orgasm—something I love hearing when tops cum—but he made no vocal noises at all.

He took his cock out of my mouth and I caught my breath for a second, the viscous feeling of his cum still lingering at the back of my throat. He gently thanked me as he grabbed his towel and then left.

I hung around for a while after that, the feeling of there being any chance for any other action waning by the minute. The first guy asked later to fuck again but I declined. I did get to watch others fuck a few times, and that was relatively hot. At one point I found my way inside another glory hole closet, and thought maybe I could come from someone sucking me off through the hole in the wall to the compartment next door. I kept feeling his face to make sure it was a face, but then I'm pretty sure he actually pressed his asshole against my bare cock, and I pulled away instantly. None of that, and even pressing against it likely heightened the risk of an STI.

I would have liked to cum while still there, but eventually I decided to leave and go home to do that. For some reason, I guess because it sort of turned me on, I put my shorts I had been wearing back on without putting my underwear back on, which I just put into my backpack. I thought maybe I could find somewhere outside to jerk off through the hole in my shorts or something, but my place is only about 10 blocks from Steamworks and along a pretty major arterial; it was a Friday night and many people were out. I'd have had to go down a dark alley. I even considered jerking off in a stairwell in my building, but by the time I was there, I was too close to where I could use a dildo in my condo and I likes that idea better—I might as well find some way to make use of the fact that I had cleaned out.

Walking home freeballing, which I don't ever do, was an odd experience. When fully hard I could hide my erection by weding it under the waistband of my shorts. But then I would start to go flaccid, and my cock would not stay in position. At that point it was still a semi, so then it would rub against the fabric of my shorts and that stimulation would make me harder again. If I were really bold I'd have just walked that way without caring who saw, but I was not able to do that. I walked a lot of the way holding my shirt, pulling the bottom of it down and slightly out in an attempt to obscure my hard on.