By Mighty Mouth


As I usually state at the beginning of each episode, everything I wrote is true and not exaggerated. I was never a fan of bath houses and saunas. I have been to a few in scattered cities around the world, but they didn’t do it for me. My first was in Cincinnati when I was about twenty-one, while I was at U. of L. I went to that city with two friends to attend some concerts. They said, "There is a great bath house here, why don’t you try it?" I went with trepidation. I turned out to be the star of the night. With my muscular farm-boy’s body and good looks about six guys were all over me as soon as I lay down on a bed in the dorm. One immediately put his mouth to work, while the others caressed my body. With all of that attention, it didn’t take me long. Then another one took over, and I came a second time. One whispered in my ear AYou have such a fabulous body.@ I can’t remember when my ego got such a boost.

Louisville had one public steam bath, in a hotel downtown. I asked about it among friends. No one I knew I ever been there, so I decided it must not be worth it and never went to investigate. In New York I tried the Everard Baths (a.k.a. Ever Hard Baths) perhaps twice. I didn’t have the patience for the games people played there. By coincidence, one guy I did have sex with there I met later under what could have been embarrassing circumstances. The board of directors of my company was having a lunch meeting in New York’s University Club on 5th Avenue, one of the city’s swankiest. One of the waiters serving us was the guy from Everard’s Baths.  I pretended not to know him, and he did the same.

    The next sauna I visited was in Amsterdam on my 1964 trip to Europe. It had a more intimate setup than Everard, with a large living room where patrons could just chat, before or after visiting a private room. I met a German man there who said the world’s greatest bath house was in Mexico City. I filed this information away for future reference. I talked to an American guy for a while, but he didn’t interest me. I did manage to suck off a Dutch guy with a high prick, who promptly gave me his phone number in Rotterdam.

Years later, I went to the baths in New Orleans. There I ran into the American I saw in the Amsterdam bath. It turned out he lived in that city, another coincidence. When I eventually got to visit Mexico City I decided to verify the German’s rather extravagant statement in the Amsterdam sauna about the world’s best bathhouse I was the most disappointing of all. I thought, "If I could get hold of that guy, I would choke him with my dick."

    My experiences in saunas stopped at that point for thirty-three years.  About the year 2000, a friend took me to a sauna in São Paulo. São Paulo is probably in a class by itself. I don’t know how many saunas it has. I think they number in the dozens. They are divided by specialty. They range from cheap to expensive, and cater to every interest. My knowledge, with the exception of one, is limited to what I read in the gay guides. There are several that cater to older men chasing younger guys.

The one I know is like the eighth wonder of the world. There is no sign outside to identify the place. One simply needs to know it’s there. It is so sophisticated that it has car attendants, who park clients’ cars. There is just a doorbell, which one presses, and gets buzzed  in. The client is provided with a towel and bathrobe, and a key to a locker that one can put on one’s wrist, and  undress, which is optional. I usually do not put on a bathrobe, since I can easily suck a dick with my clothes on. When one walks into the main area, he is met by dozens of nude, young, muscular, and great-looking guys, all well-endowed. They are called boys using the English word. They are there strictly for use by the patrons, who are mostly older men. The boys outnumber the patrons by two to one, and that makes for a lot of competition among the boys. They are lower-level, but trustworthy hustlers. The going price is about US$57. The boys are trustworthy, because it is in the interest of the management to see there are no bad incidents. Any boy who breaks the rules is banned from the sauna. They have to pay a small amount to get in, about US$4.50. This is probably to discourage even lower-level hustlers from going there. Condoms are generously supplied by management. Curiously, the boys have their own separate entrance to get into the building generally known in Brazil as the servants’ entrance.

There is a sizeable swimming pool, an exercise room, a TV-watching room, a porno viewing room, a solarium, a bar/restaurant, and a massage room. There used to be a dark room, but management closed it. Perhaps because they wanted to prevent sex in the dark room and make money from rentals of their private rooms for sex, which cost extra, payed for by the client, needless to say. I prefer to sit in the bar/restaurant, where I can watch the parade. Some boys sit on the bar stools, nude and with a full erection. They must all be Viagara-loaded in other to maintain it hard all evening. I learned early-on not to glance at anyone except in the most oblique way, otherwise he would come running to my table. One wall of the restaurant is glass, allowing an unobstructed view into the shower room.

    I usually bided my time, examining the wares, before I would invite someone to sit at my table. Since the boys spend long hours there, they get hungry. Once seated with me, they would invariably ask me to buy them a snack from the restaurant, which charges exorbitant prices. It’s almost like a private club. Many of the boys and patrons know each other.  There are bingo nights, drag performance nights, and karaoke nights.

    Most of the boys claim to be straight or bi, either because they are still in the closet, or to please the patrons. One told me that he had a wife and kid at home.  I almost asked him why he was in a sauna and not with them. I suspect that most are just bull shitting.  It’s not called a gay sauna for nothing.

    One night I admired a young muscle-bound and good-looking guy, and beckoned him to my table. I liked him a lot. Instead of doing anything there, in order not to spend more money, I gave him my phone number. The very next day he phoned me.  I invited him for lunch and he got to meet my boyfriend, W. He shocked us by the amount of food that he could eat. I had prepared a big bowl of salad, which he proceeded to gobble down quickly. I then prepared another bowl of salad.  He would load everything on his heaving plate at one time, and then go back for seconds and thirds. He was a semi-professional weight lifter, and told us that he used steroids. He mentioned that he consumed eleven eggs for breakfast. We decided that he must raise hens in his back yard.

We decided to nickname him “porcão,” which means big pig in English. And he ate the same quantity of food every three hours!

    I usually went to the sauna on Sundays, and he came by my apartment once to go there with me. When we arrived at the sauna, its gay cleaning guy was near  the check-in desk.  Pointing to my friend, he blurted out, to no one in particular, “he’s a woman.” I expected Porção to be furious, but he displayed no reaction. That signified that he liked rear end action, since he was certainly not feminine. The next time he was at my apartment, I asked him why the guy had said that, and if it was so.  He replied, “of course, it’s natural, isn’t it?” I almost cracked up, but kept a straight face. I told W. and thus Porção acquired another nickname, namely “woman.” I stopped inviting him to lunch after a while, because he would eat, then run to my computer, to spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening there, instead of keeping me company. I usually had to throw him out about 9:00 pm. Besides, he didn’t have a big dick.

    I am told by others more experienced than I that only Brazil has saunas with such large numbers of available male flesh, and all over the country. Incidentally, if you are ever in São Paulo, the name of the Sauna is “Termos Lagoa.” I have no financial interest in it, but here is their web site:  You don’t need to understand Portuguese to appreciate it. The site has many pictures, and is half in English anyway.

    Another similar sauna is called Termas Fragata, located in the Pinheiros neighborhood. The boys there charge only US$ 29. I just met one of the boys who frequents the sauna through the internet, and he promised to bring other boys from the sauna to my apartment.  So I don’t even need to visit the place.

If anyone wants to read a free copy of my book, “Memoirs of a Gay Rights Maverick,” I’ll send it to you as an email attachment.  Advise me via email: [email protected]

Mighty Mouth


Mighty Mouth


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