A Closed Open Relationship

I was in a private suite on the far side of Mount Morris Bath House where walk-in rooms are located. I insisted that Shawn go for a walk...

'Give me some time alone. Go find us a Puerto Rican to play with.'

'Do not let anyone else in here until I get back, Charles.'

'Alright. Just let me chill. I'm rolling right now. Go have some fun. Play around for a while. I belong to you. You know that.'

He insisted on kissing me before he ran to the other side of the underground bathhouse where most of the action inside of Mt. Morris takes place. Surely he didn't believe for one moment that I wasn't going to sneak in a quickie while he was getting off elsewhere. I knew while he was away he was going to get his ten- inch black tool sucked dry by all kinds of gaping holes. It really didn't matter to me. No longer was I worried about having my lover stolen from me. We were in a gay bathhouse after all. It was just sex. What harm is there in anonymous sex if both parties agree that monogamy is not worth the effort?

I'm no fool. I knew he wanted to have fun with the other guys too. He left for the far of the sauna where the rooms are darker.

Shawn thought I would remain his bitch while he was off romaing the musty, athlete's foot infested carpeted grounds. Perhaps he took serious the things I said to make him cum. Shawn thought of me as a loyal virgin; belonging to just him and permitted to fool around with others only when he was there to supervise the action. He liked to demonstrate how to properly poke the great abyss.

'He will cum if you fuck him on his back. Don't do that yet. If he busts you ain't gettin' no more. He will clamp his hole tight and you will not be able to get back in for at least twenty minutes. Here, do it like this first! See... take your time and go in deep.'

I'd just moan.

I learned to accept the fact that none of my men leave me despite how whorish I am in their presence. I needed time alone in Mt. Morris.

I felt guilty for leaving him on Saturday nights all the time. I didn't want him to be home by himself crying because I went out to get some strange again... such a big cry baby. I informed him on the day that we met that I love getting done my lots of men, especially all at once. Feeling sorry for him, I granted him the right to come with me to another ritualistic, sexual escapade in Harlem.

'That place really means nothing. It's just fun. Trust me, you will like it too. It's wild there. You are gonna love it, Big Daddy Kane. We can go just to watch the other people. Come with me, please. Get out of this house for a change. Stop feeling sorry for yourself simply because I am comfortable inside my insatiable skin.'

He laughed.

'That's exactly why I love you so fucking much, Sexy!'

He headed off to the heavy cruise area beyond the television room where re-runs of the HBO series OZ were shown to bored patrons. Tops sat with white towels over their private parts and watched an overhead television while bottoms waited for them, face down, on white sheets with little bottles of poppers laying next to their heads like visions of sugarplums.

He was gone for just two minutes. I opened the thin plywood door. A trainer I knew from Crunch Fitness was outside. He was a guy I had watched and lusted over for years in the free weight area of gym. He would show others how to get pumped and buff. I learned workout secrets from watching him so much. I could never afford a private trainer. If I could, I would have hired him in an instant.

He smiled.

I showed him my naked ass.

He came in and had me. We never spoke a word. Just deep quick thrusts. He busted in less than a minute.

I came too.

Shawn was standing outside the door.

I felt like such a slut.

'How could you do that? You swore to me you wouldn't.'

'Fuck you, Shawn. You said that. I only agreed, but never promised.'

I didn't realize that they knew each other. They were former lovers. Shawn was so angry with me that night.