In The Dark

I often spend my time thinking about sex. Browsing dating sites, going on to Grindr or Scruff and trying to find guys to hookup with. However, as much as my fantasy run wild in my mind, when I am in front of a guy, and things are getting hot, I start getting second thoughts, which often leads to second-guessing, then guilt and the fun stops. Some days I am a work and I can't stop thinking about sex. Every spreadsheet brings me back to my legs open wide and every cell on the grind is like my empty hole waiting to be filled with hot cum. 

One day I couldn't take it anymore. It was noon. I left work and decided to head to the bathhouse. It wasn't my first time; I had been here often but not in the middle of the day. I wasn't expecting much; some middle age guys or an empty space. I just wanted to spend some time in the sauna and feel the steam on my body, the sweat slide down my chest and relax. 

I walk into the building. The scent perks my senses; I wonder if every bathhouse has the same smell - a mix of sweat, sex and men. I undress and leave my glasses in the locker. It looks like no one is there at least as far as I can see - which isn't much. I walk down to the steam room, carefully, and  rinse myself. 

The water feels cold at first and warms ups. My hands work around my chest, arms, groin. I let the water run down my back and I let myself take in the sound of the shower hitting the cement. There is the usual pop music mix being played. I take in a few words. The sound of the door closing bring me back and I turn around. Everything is just a slight blur.

I grab my towel and head into the room. My body senses the rise in the temperature and my eyes adjust to the dark dim space. Steam, along with my eyes, makes it difficult to make out anything. I just head over to the nearest bench and sit down. 

It looks like I am alone. I close my eyes and breathe. The steam feels good. The heat feels good. My body feels good. Soon I hear the sound of keys moving closer to me. It must be someone else in here and my heart races with excitement, nervousness and dread. 

A hand runs over my leg. It feels rough and I let it linger and move up my leg. I keep my eyes closed. I don't care who this is. His touch feels good. He moves up to my chest and nipples. I moan. His hands stay and work up my areola and the skin near by. I lean back and give me more room and an invitation to come close, do more. 

I feel the warm tongue take me by surprise on my other nipple. His tongue is wet and soft like velvet, moving up my chest, my neck, to my ears. I am absorbed in the dark and my heart is getting louder. I open my mouth and he is inside me. We are talking silently and our tongues reach out to each other like blind men in the dark. 

All this time the heat is rising; the steam, the sweat, the intensity of our passion. I feel the pull of my mind to get a handle on this and control what is happening, but I put that voice in the closet and try to sink into this pleasure. 

The man with the velvet tongue and rough hands moves my head lower to this nipples and they are firm, perky. I taste the salt in his sweat, whiff his scent, feel the hair rub against my cheek. He moans; its the only time he has said anything. His moan is deep with an echo that lingers in the space like a Tibetan bell. 

His hands come on my shoulders and gently nudge me lower and I feel his hard cock pulling me towards it. Soon I open my mouth and taste familiar salty precum; the head is massive, and the girth, substantial. My hole perks up. 

His hands are in my hair, holding me. I give up resistance and let him slide in and out of my mouth. I want to gag but I want him to tell me when to stop. I want this pleasure as much for him as it is for me. 

(To be continued)