My Out-of-Control Afternoon at the Downtown Gay Sauna

Marcos had been having one of those silly mornings when his body was craving trouble, and not the kind you get at the gym. His pores were crying out for sex, and no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the computer, nothing was sinking into his head.

At fifty, he considered himself a jack-of-all-trades. He was into men, women, young and old, and depending on the moment he adapted to whatever body was in front of him. Shaved head, neatly groomed gray beard, a little belly typical of his age, and an average build: medium height, broad shoulders without making a fuss. What he did have was a very well-proportioned cock, not some monstrous dangling thing but thick, with a beautiful glans and always uncovered.

That afternoon, hookup apps would only waste more hours for him, staring at profiles and getting worked up. So he decided to go straight to the point. He grabbed his keys, went down to the garage, and headed to the downtown sauna.

At reception he was met by a hairless kid, very handsome, with juicy lips that looked painted on. He handed over the towel, flip-flops, and locker key, winking at him. Marcos couldn’t tell whether it was personal flirting or part of the job, but inside, his other self started waking up inside his jeans. He smiled back and walked toward the changing room.

He undressed calmly, put his clothes in the locker, and with only the towel knotted at his waist, headed out for a first look around. First things first: a shower. Hygiene above all.

There he crossed paths with an old man. Seventy-something, bent over, with the dry body of someone who no longer gains weight. But the cock. The cock was enormous, a thick, long dick that didn’t seem to belong to that tiny body. The old guy kept his eyes on Marcos while soaping his pubes and shamelessly rubbing that massive cock of his.

Fuck, the old man really knows how to play it, Marcos thought. He took advantage of the shower to slide a couple of soapy fingers into his hole and leave it spotless, just in case the afternoon called for it. He finished washing up and headed for the dry sauna.

When he opened the door, three young guys made a dramatic fuss as if he’d caught them in the act. They moved apart and stared at the ceiling, pretending. Marcos smiled to himself. As if anyone was going to be surprised in here. He sat on the lower bench, waited five minutes, but the three of them were still frozen. His arrival had killed the mood. He stood up, gave them a knowing little gesture, and left them to it.

Next stop, the steam sauna. There were quite a few people inside, six or seven bodies scattered over the benches. Marcos breathed in that unmistakable smell — damp heat and other people’s sweat — and sat on the middle bench. Another burst of steam came out of the grate and wrapped everything in a thick, almost opaque fog. That was the signal. As soon as the outlines disappeared, things started moving.

A very young guy, almost a brat, dropped down from the top bench and put his arms around his neck. He gently turned Marcos’s head and went for his mouth. Their tongues tangled without introductions. Marcos was already hard, so he pulled the towel aside and let the kid see what he had downstairs.

Without breaking the kiss, the boy climbed down from the bench and sat on top of Marcos. His hands explored that small round ass, his fingers searching for the entrance. A soft moan in his ear and a nip on the earlobe were all the answer he needed. He lifted his hips, positioned himself over Marcos’s cock, and slowly impaled himself until it was all the way in.

—Aaah, daddy… you’re driving me crazy —the boy gasped against his neck.

The boy was bouncing up and down, and all around them the rest of the bodies were jerking off, watching like they were in a homemade porn theater. The kid’s moans flooded the room. Marcos was too hot to hold back. During one of the back-and-forth motions he pressed his groin against that tight ass and came, filling him completely. A couple more kisses and he left there, his cock still dripping.

***

He needed a moment of calm. He got under the hot shower and let the water loosen the tension in his shoulders. Then he went to the lounge, where a screen played porn on a loop. He stretched out on one of the sofas, covered with the towel, and from there kept an eye on the entrances and exits of the dark room.

Once he’d caught his breath, he wanted something else. Not to fuck anyone in particular. A bath of bodies. He left the towel on the sofa and went in naked to the den of dark depravity. He moved slowly so he wouldn’t bump into anyone. Hands were groping him everywhere, mouths were attaching themselves to his cock, his chest, his mouth, his hole. It was too much. They were going to devour him. He stroked other bodies, let himself be stroked, while a sea of moans sounded around him. Someone had opened a bottle of poppers and the whole room started spinning. He felt his heart racing, he was short of breath, and he headed for the exit, pushing his way through the swarm of men.

Outside, he took a deep breath, adjusted his towel, and took a stroll through the cubicle area. He noticed that a guy had been following him out of the dark room. Maybe he’s into me, he thought. He kept on cruising. Some stalls were closed, others had people fucking with the door left ajar as an invitation, and others were empty.

***

On his way back down the corridor he ran into the man who’d been following him. He was taller, maybe six-foot-one, very dark. Neither handsome nor ugly, with the hard face of someone who’d worked under the sun. Marcos guessed him to be a few years older, but not yet sixty. He had a chest covered in black-and-white hair and a sturdy belly that entered places before he did. Latino. He would later learn he was Cuban from the accent.

He blocked his way, resting a hand on the frame of an empty stall.

—Where you going? Stay with me and we’ll have a good time.

—Oh yeah? And what are you offering? —Marcos replied.

—To eat you up whole.

—Sounds good...

Marcos felt like letting himself be handled. He went into the booth and the Cuban —Rolando, he would learn later— closed the door behind him. Better that way, with no interruptions.

Standing face to face, they joined mouths slowly, like real lovers, calmly. Marcos loved that feeling. He had already gotten all the hurry out of his system with the kid in the steam sauna; now he wanted a different kind of pleasure, slower.

Rolando slid his tongue from his lips to Marcos’s neck and stopped at his left ear. That was enough to get him fully hard. He pulled away both towels, spread them over the cot, and while he kept licking his face, eyes, lips, and neck, Marcos’s muffled moans began escaping on their own. Marcos’s hands ran over the Cuban’s huge back and broad ass.

—Never had anyone eat you out? —Rolando murmured.

—Mmmm... not often, the way you do.

—The way I do it, I assure you, never.

With a small shove he laid him on his back on the cot and lifted his legs, taking his feet in his hands. He brought them to his mouth. He sucked the toes like they were little chicks, licked the spaces between the phalanges, ran his flat tongue over the whole sole.

—Ooohf... fuck, I like that —Marcos panted.

—Enjoy it. I love doing this and I’m barely getting started.

Marcos felt something new. His body was lighting up with every lick and his hair stood on end whenever the Cuban found a sensitive spot. From his feet, Rolando moved up the inside of his thighs to his groin. Marcos was so lost in the caresses that his cock had gone softish, neither hard nor flaccid, but throbbing in his groin.

The Cuban’s tongue reached his testicles. They hung enough to cover the entrance to his hole. Rolando sucked them skillfully, moved that curtain aside with his chin, and began to feast on the opening. Not a finger, just tongue. A thick, hot tongue that almost pushed its way into the stretched hole. Marcos writhed against the vinyl of the cot.

—Aaaah, I love it... fuck, you’re so good at this, don’t stop please.

Rolando opened that ass with his tongue until it was drooling. But he didn’t touch Marcos’s cock. Not yet. He moved from the ass to the balls, up the groin to one side, and stopped at the nipples, alternating tiny bites and long licks. He lifted one arm and buried his nose in the armpit, inhaling deeply, savoring the smell.

As they were positioned, Rolando was between Marcos’s legs, and Marcos was beyond reason now. He had surrendered to the Cuban without reservation. Something thick brushed his hole. Rolando’s cock, obviously: rather short but very thick. The head of that dick rubbed against his ass, searching for an entrance, and thanks to Marcos’s state —relaxed, lubricated, open— it slid in. With a little effort it went in all the way and drew out a deep moan.

—Oooghhh, shit... —Marcos huffed.

—There, there... there it is. It’s short, but it sure makes itself known, my love.

—Fuck if it makes itself known... wait, let me adjust a bit.

Rolando rested his belly on Marcos’s chest and leaned down to eat his mouth while he “adjusted.” The Cuban’s cock slipped out and went back in, charging again. Now he not only felt that thick, big-headed cock coming in and out: he also felt all of Rolando’s weight on top of him, crushing him. He was at his mercy. Exactly the plan he wanted. For a man to use him without asking permission.

The moans echoed in the booth so loudly that someone tried to open the door from outside and failed. Marcos was loving it. He had Rolando driving against the gate of his sex, now more than stretched enough. He pulled it all the way out and shoved it back in hard, concentrating all the pleasure on the ring and the head.

After a good while, Rolando flipped him over like he was a rag and put him on all fours. Marcos rested his head on the vinyl, arched his back, and stuck his ass out as far as he could. But he wanted to do something more. He wanted to suck that huge cock, which now carried all the flavor of his ass mixed with the Cuban’s. He turned around —to Rolando’s surprise— and took it into his mouth. He had to open his jaw wide. It tasted good, a mix of both of their fluids, and the Cuban’s cock was very sloppy, which made it even tastier.

Rolando would not leave his ass alone, pushing two and three fingers into him at once. Just when Marcos was about to come, he pulled out of Marcos’s mouth, turned around, and mounted a sixty-nine, planting that huge ass in his face while Marcos sucked his cock.

—Eat Cuban ass! Fuck, you’ve got a good cock on you.

—Mmm, mmm, uuhmmm... —was all Marcos could manage with his mouth full.

Like before, Marcos didn’t hold back and came into Rolando’s mouth, who savored every jet until he’d sucked his cock dry. As turned on as he was, the Cuban shoved his big dick into Marcos’s mouth and fucked it without mercy until he came too. He was unable to swallow that much cum. It ran out of the corners of his mouth. He gathered the rest with his fingers and put them back in his mouth so he wouldn’t lose any.

—Fuck, you’re a fountain... damn, that tastes so good! —Marcos panted.

—When a guy like you gets me this worked up, I’m a fountain, my love.

Exhausted by the fucking, they ended up sprawled on the cot like an old couple. Holding each other, Marcos leaning on the chest of the big man who had given him so much pleasure on some random Thursday afternoon.

—How about we take a shower? —Rolando suggested.

—Great, though I’m wiped out.

—Then we can relax in the jacuzzi.

—Oh, that sounds like a good plan.

***

They came out of the booth and crossed paths with several men. Rolando in front, Marcos behind. One of the guys waiting his turn slapped Marcos on the ass as he passed.

—You’ve really filled out, huh!

Marcos answered with a cheeky smile and kept walking.

They were alone in the showers. For a moment. One soaped up the other, enjoying the caresses and kisses. With his cock nicely lathered, Rolando shoved it into him again from behind. Marcos couldn’t tell him no. He had him subjugated; he could do whatever he wanted with him.

—I’m cleaning your hole from the inside like this —Rolando laughed.

—Ufff, fuck... do whatever you want, mmmm.

—No, that’s exactly what I’m doing. Take cock, take it!

At that moment the boy from the steam sauna and the old man from the first shower came in holding hands. They took the shower next to them as if nothing were going on.

—Well, look at you, you found yourself a good stud, huh? —the old man said to Marcos.

—Oh, ooooh, yes, mmm...

—Look at him —the boy laughed—. After drilling my ass, just look how much he likes getting it done to him. I left your hole ready for your big rod, old man.

—What a couple of sluts you are —the old man murmured, delighted.

—Here comes another Caribbean load! —Rolando announced, emptying himself into Marcos—. Anyone else want some?

“What? He just came and he’s already offering me up to the first guy who walks by,” Marcos thought. He didn’t have time to react. The old man, who must have had a little blue pill in him, was already sliding into him, that massive cock not fitting his body.

While the old man fucked him against the tiles, Rolando and the boy soaped themselves up in the next shower, like David and Goliath taking a bath. The two of them watched the show of the old man drilling Marcos as if they were at the movies.

—Bend over, slut. My cum isn’t wasted on just any ass —the old man ordered.

Marcos bent over and opened his mouth as wide as he could, sticking out his tongue. With two thrusts of that big rod, the old man dumped his load down his throat. After swallowing, he opened his mouth again so the old man could check that he’d swallowed every drop. He thanked him.

—Go on, wash that used hole of yours well. I’ll wait for you in the jacuzzi with the young guy —Rolando said as he was leaving—. And hurry up, because with that little ass of his, I can’t promise anything.

—Yeah, yeah, I’m coming now.

But Marcos had had enough. He knew that if he went to the jacuzzi, they’d fuck him again in front of everyone, and although the idea turned him on, he was exhausted from all the rough handling. He soaped himself up one last time, rinsed off well, and headed to the changing room without anyone seeing him slip away.

He dressed calmly, hiding from the looks. At reception, the hairless kid with the juicy lips was still behind the counter. Marcos handed back the locker key and, as he took the receipt slip, the boy brushed his fingers a little longer than necessary.

—Everything good in there? —the kid asked with a smile that no longer seemed like just part of the job.

—Better than good —Marcos replied.

He stepped out into the street and breathed in the afternoon air. Not a trace remained of the tension with which he had started the day.