Monday, March 21, 2011

Friday at the Baths: Steam Room Bear

I usually judge the prospective activity of the local bathhouse by the number of cars I see parked in its two lots. It's not unusual for the back lot to be more empty. There’s a bit of a trek to the door from around the back of the building, in that industrial neighborhood. If the lot closest to the front door is abandoned, however, I'll usually make the U-turn that would take me around to the bathhouse's fenced enclosure, and continue on back to the highway.

Friday, the lot was packed. I pulled in, parked my car, grabbed my flip-flops and the bottle of lube I keep in the glove compartment, and headed inside.

I don't hit the baths all that often. When was the last time? Eight months ago? But the guy who works the daytime shift at the counter recognized me. From behind his glasses he stared at me, then nodded. "Hey," I grinned at him, and then slipped my twenty beneath the glass for a regular room. He handed me a paper to sign, took my membership card, and buzzed me in. Only once I was inside the darkness, waiting at the counter for him to pass me my room key and towel, did he open his thickly-goateed mouth. "Enjoy yourself, now," he growled in a deep bass. Then he chuckled. "I know they'll enjoy you."

He's a flirt, that desk clerk. But he always gives me a choice room—this time, at the intersection of three heavily-trafficked hallways.

The baths are a hit-or-miss affair. So much depends on the crowd, and the mixture of the crowd is always a matter of timing, chance, and the whims of the locals. If it's a miserable day of rain or snow or ice, it could swing either way—people might be looking for a refuge from the weather and come for a day of sex with strangers, or they might equally be tempted to stay at home, warm and dry and alone. Fine weather might draw people out of their homes, but they could be inclined to head to the mall or the riverfront, as to the bathhouse. National holidays tend to be good—even Thanksgiving. Guys are off work, and guys get bored and mischievous, then. I was hoping that Friday, right around lunchtime, might attract a certain mature crowd looking to play before the start of the weekend. Or at least some hot unemployed men.

But still, it's always tough to tell what you'll get on any particular day at the bathhouse. You could have the time of your life. Or you could sit around for hours, diddling yourself and wondering why you came, when it's PERFECTLY OBVIOUS that everyone finds you OUTRAGEOUSLY UGLY and GROSSLY OBESE and RUNS at the sight of you.

Luckily, Friday was one of the former.

After laying out the sheet on my mattress in my room, then disrobing and slipping on my rubber cock rings and wrapping my threadbare towel around my midsection, I slipped out of the door and clopped down the hall in my flip-flops to the steam room. The steam room at this particular bath is large, and tiled from floor to ceiling, and divided into two roughly enclosures. I moved into the room's foggy far side, and climbed onto the upper shelf to wait. An older gentleman sat nearby; he didn't look at me when I took my place upon the tiles, removed my towel, and settled into a position with my legs spread and my forearms balanced upon the knees. I'd passed several guys in the hallway who'd given me the eyeball when I'd walked by. Several of them trailed in after me.

One was an older guy in his sixties with an enviably athletic build and a shaved head. Without asking, and without any resistance from me, he removed his towel and set it on the lower shelf, then knelt upon it and began to suck my dick. I hardened between his lips, then let him move his mouth up and down the shaft as he got it wetter and more rigid. The two men who had trailed in after him watched from nearby. One was another senior whose features I couldn't make out through the dense fog that was ramping up as the steamer pumped out clouds of vapor. He was tall, though, and definitely as old, or older than the man working on my dick. The other was a big, burly bear. Five-foot-nine and two-hundred-and-eighty pounds of very furry, masculine, bearded bear.

I found the bear instantly attractive in a god I want that one! kind of way. However much I find many of them attractive, though, bears don't tend to go for me. Or if they do, they certainly don't act upon it in person. As a matter of fact, when in my presence they manage to hide any interest pretty damned well. I kept trying to give this one the eye, and to invite him to come over and join in, but he sat down at a fair distance and watched, just like everyone else.

The older gent who'd been present in the room when I'd entered gathered his towel and left. My cocksucker rose, gave me a deep kiss, then grabbed his towel and did the same. By way of apology, he comically mimed wiping sweat off his forehead. It was getting warm in there; the boiler was at its peak, and I couldn't see more than two or three feet in front of me. Still rock hard and wanting a mouth on my meat, I pulled myself to the edge of the upper ledge and positioned myself so that I was sitting directly above the bear. He watched as I played with my nipples and masturbated myself lasciviously for him.

Finally, when I spread my legs invitingly as wide as they could possibly go, he stood up and positioned himself between them. Now that I could see him more clearly, I could tell how fucking cute the guy really was. He had to me about my age, but he had the impish eyes and cherry cheeks of a little boy. His beard was bushy, full, and dark. His chest was furry, though his round belly was perfectly smooth. From the bush of his pubes rose a stubby penis, fat, full, hard, and short.

I grabbed him by the dick and pulled him in. His mouth landed on mine; I found my lips surrounded by his mouth. His beard scratched my face, pleasantly. I inhaled his sweet scent of mouthwash and coffee traces as the breath from our lungs mingled. He groaned when I pinched and pulled at his nipples. Then I ran my right hand through his curly hair and pushed him down so that his face was at his dick. He opened his mouth, and engulfed it.

The older gentleman had done a really good job of sucking me. He was nothing, however, compared to the bear. My hips buckled at the feel of his mouth as he took me to the root. His mouth was so wide open that I thought he'd slurp in my balls, as well. When finally he backed off, the combination of the heat and the blow job left my head spinning. "You wanna fuck me?" he wanted to know.

Did I! "Yeah," I grunted. "Want to go back to my room?"

I didn't have to ask twice. I was streaming water when we left the steam room. I didn't even bother to wait to get back; I removed my town and walked, hard-on bouncing painfully, down the hallway as I dried off my shoulders and back. Several men watched as we disappeared into the darkness of the little cubicle with the number 50 on its door.

"Gawd," said the bear. "You’ve got the perfect dick, fucker." He sat heavily on the bed and grabbed it, pulling me to him. "The perfect dick. It's fucking big, too. How long is it?" I told him, and he shook his head. "I want it in me."

I leaned down for another of his kisses. I loved the feel of his beard against mine. "I was hoping I would get with you," I told him, quite honestly. "I saw you walk in that room, and I thought to myself, I've gotta get some of that."

"No shit? I'm just a furry fat dude." He seemed incredulous, despite my assertion that he was far more than a furry fat dude. "You clean?" I told him I was. ""Because I'm thinking I want you to sperm me up."

"You want it bareback?" I asked.

"Only done it that way with one other buddy," he said. "But yeah. I don't wanna pass up this shot. You wanna bareback me?"

Again, he didn't have to ask twice. I had been turning him onto his knees as he spoke. He lay face down on the bed, clutched the pauper's pillow between his arms to prop up his chin, and groaned as I fingered some lube into his butt. When I pushed between those big, furry cheeks, he grabbed for his bottle of poppers and inhaled deeply. I could feel his muscles relax to admit me as I slid deeper. "Oh fuck," he said, over and over again. "Oh fuck. I've never had one this big. Fucking amazing."

I was all the way in. As he told me how rarely he'd been fucked—apparently the last time had been eight months prior—I was a little surprised how elastic and smooth he was. He didn't clench down, or resist my thrusts, or betray any discomfort when I increased the depth with which I'd pull out and shove back in. He didn't seem to feel pain when I would hold myself in him at the deepest point, and swell my dick by clamping down on the floor of my pelvis. All he did was hold one of my hands like a lifeline, breath heavily, and moan with pleasure.

"You like it, don't you, stud?" I growled in his ear.

"Yes," he cried. "You don't know how long I've needed this, buddy. You don't know how bad. Where are you from?" he asked, suddenly. I told him, still keeping up the rhythm of my thrusting, and asked where he lived. He was from Ohio, he told me. An hour and a half away. "But if you could ever host, or meet me here, I would totally drive up for more of this—anytime. An-y-time," he repeated, drawing out each syllable. He sounded, quite honestly, so happy at the way my dick was making him feel that he was close to tears.

"Then I'll have to give you my number," I told him. "Because I find you so fucking attractive that I'd love to see more of you."

The news pleased him. It pleased him so much that he clamped down on my meat like a pair of hands and began to milk it. I wasn't going to last much longer. "Let me sit on it," he suggested.

Anything to extend the pleasure. I got on my back. He mounted me, putting his considerable weight on my midsection as his hole grabbed onto my dick. I like a guy's weight on me. I particularly love a bear's weight on me—it makes me feel tiny, and compact, which is something that an ungainly, long-limbed fellow like me rarely gets to experience. His fat dick rubbed against my stomach as he rode me. I could tell that the feelings for him were even more intense in this position than they had been when I'd been ramming into him. "I'm going to shoot," he warned me.

"Do it," I commanded.

He continued to ride back and forth and up and down, more and more vigorously. His excitement tickled mine. I found myself very much on the edge as he rode closer and closer to orgasm. When he came, it was without having touched himself once; he shot a blast of cum squarely into my face. That alone pushed me over. I began to unload into him, loudly, as he continued to groan and squirm on top of me. Finally, wary of opening my eyes while his copious sperm was still dripping down my face, I let him wipe me off before I looked at him. "Holy fuck," he said.

"Holy fuck," I agreed. "Shit!"

He didn't stay on me long. When he stood up, I lay on my stomach on the mattress and took his still-hard cock in my mouth, cleaning off the rest of the sperm that was lingering there. His back slammed against the cubicle door. He rested there for long minutes while I nursed at his dick, enjoying the way it filled my mouth. Like most big men, he was actually much bigger than he appeared. I felt guilty for thinking of him as stubby and short, when it was obvious that he had a good seven inches on him.

When I pulled off his dick, finally, he pushed me back and ran his hand through my steam-wet, long hair. “I didn’t expect to come here and rob the cradle today,” he said, pulling my face against his extended, rotund belly in a way that made my dick sit up and take notice. “You don’t mind being with an older guy? How old are you, son? Thirty-one? Thirty-two?”

I might’ve thought he was teasing, or attempting to flatter me, but his tone was completely serious. I was flattered, though. Very flattered. Still, I snorted. “I’m forty-seven.”

He seemed genuinely stunned. Once again he rattled the door in its frame as he leaned back against it. “Holy shit. Are you serious? I’m forty-eight. You look like, twenty years younger than me. Are you really that old?”

I admitted I was, but that I certainly didn’t mind him calling me son. Blushing prettily, I opened the door for him and we stepped outside. The half-dozen men who’d been hanging around, listening to the fucking and waiting to see who eventually emerged, scattered into the darkness like rats.

Usually at the baths I'm there for variety; I don't like to be pinned down to one guy, or feel as if I'm being monopolized. Likewise, I'm wary about taking up any guy's afternoon by keeping him in my company when he might want to be out and about, sampling other meat. With the bear, though, we formed a companionable partnership that afternoon. After we toweled off the sperm that seemed to be everywhere, we stuck together for a couple of more hours. While he showered, I filled out a slip of paper with my name and my email and phone number.

We then made out and sucked each other in the shower room while guys drifted in and out. I let him piss on my head there, in front of a crowd of a half-dozen, and then let him soap me up and lather me clean under the running shower head. He invited me back to his larger room, where we talked for a while, and made out, and fucked again. He placed me on my stomach and gave me an amazing and skilled deep-tissue massage that left me (literally, and embarrassingly) drooling.

And more importantly, we made some tentative plans to connect again when he gets back from a business trip.

Ah, the bears. Usually they tend to ignore me, like I said. But when I trap one, I'm a very happy man.


  1. This story has me utterly boned! No small thing given that I've had hardly a single erection for days due to my head hurting so bad. I miss the baths so much, and especially the steam rooms. Saunas don't do it for me at all. I used to hit the baths in NYC and spend lots of time in the steam just for the pleasure of the wet heat.

    Bears are hell of fun! Wonderful to trap and play with.

  2. RedPhillip,

    I am not looking forward to moving to a region where the baths are few and far between. I don't go a lot, but it's great to have the option.

  3. if you're in eastern ct, there's two in Providence- and they can both be great places.

  4. 11:17 Anonymous,

    Yeah, I'd heard that the ones in Providence were the only baths in all of New England.

  5. As a bear (5'11", 365), this story gives me great hope. I only live a few hours from Detroit, but I'd love to make it up there sometime to "get trapped"!

  6. 11:29 Anonymous,

    I know you bears are always all over each other. I'm sure you've got a whole little coterie of cubs tagging after you. :-) But if you're ever in the area....

  7. Anonymous here again.

    lol. I'm glad that you think I've got a ton of guys coming after me, but in all honestly, i haven't been fucked in probably 8 or 9 months. Most gay guys around here aren't interested in bigger guys. And I've also had several instances where guys' cocks just simply big enough to fuck me because of my big ass. They keep falling out and half the time they don't even realize it.

    btw, I understand why the bears don't appear to be interested in you. I get very intimidated by the hot, sexy, thin guys with "perfect" bodies and huge cocks. You're everything we want to be. Trust me, it's not you, it's our insecurities getting the best of us.

    Yea, I'm working on 'em, but sometimes it takes time... lol.


  8. You may know of my fondness of steamrooms, so the setting was perfect! I love the way you tell a story. I hope you reconnect.

  9. ErieBear,

    Location has a lot to do with it, I will concede. I'm glad for the compliments you gave me, though I have far from a perfect body. It's just skinnier than many.

    And I totally get that insecurities will keep a bear from approaching a guy (or honestly, any guy from approaching another he finds attractive), but it's kind of frustrating for non-bears when you guys club together in big groups that on the surface seem to be intolerant of other body types.

    Admittedly, I'm making a huge, broad generalization based on bar behavior in this area. Don't get all postal on me, readers!

  10. NoBeLoadLover,

    I have another steam room tale for tomorrow, too.

  11. The bears arent into you? YOu must be meeting the lesbian bears, cause this bear would be on his knees for you in a NY Second!

    Shit Rob, don't tell me these things!


  12. I know it's not technically New England, but there is a baths in Troy, NY, just across the river from Albany, the River Street Club. It's one of a handful of remnants from the old Club Baths chain.

    From where I live now, Troy is slightly closer than Providence. One of these days I'll hijack a buddy to take me to either city for some bathhouse slutting. Since 1984/85 was the last time I went to a baths, my nostalgia for it is enormous.

    Given where you'll be once you're here in CT, Providence will be far more convenient if you get the itch for some steamy play.

  13. The baths can be a funny place. When I was about 40 I was in Seattle for business. I had decided to stay over the weekend for personal time, so Friday night I headed to one of the baths. I walked around for a bit and spotted this GORGEOUS muscled blond, no towel on, and buns of steel. "Fuck"", I thought, "what I would give to get a piece of that ass". I figured that I had no chance, however, since he was at least 15 years younger than I (turns out he was 18 years younger). I continued walking around when suddenly a hand reached out from the darkness and grabbed my arm. It was my young Adonis! Well, it turned out that he LOVED to be fucked and after the first couple of times I invited him back to my hotel room to spend the night and fuck a couple of more times. Saturday morning we fucked around until about noon, when I asked him if I could photograph him. He was not modest at all and I shot a couple of rolls of him, some artistic shots and lots of pornographis ones.

    It turned out that he was a student at a large university a couple of hours north of Seattle. We spent the rest of Saturday and Sunday together, until I had to catch my plance back east. I got his details and flew him down to LA a couple of months later when I wa going to be on a business trip out there. That summer I flew him back east to spend a week with me. Ultimately I convinced him to go to law school and saw him a few more times after that when I was in Seattle. Ultimately I lost contact with him after he received his JD, but I think he still lives out there somewhere in the great northwest.

    Michael, if you read this, I still think of you and I've jerked off to those pictures tons of times.

    Yep, you can never tell what might happen at the baths!

  14. Man that is so sexy and wild. I'm glad that you had a great time and a lot of fun when you tought that you would have just an ordinary day. I hope that you will see him soon for another round of pleasure.
    Have a great evening my sexy friend.


  15. You know how insanely turned I am by this post.

    Among other places, you & I will have to meet up in Providence at some point...


  16. Great post Rob, and you reveal once again your genuine appreciation for a wide range of male body types, and your ability to put yourself in lots of different positions. What sexual fun and what pleasure! You have inspired me to finally delve into some of the famous northern CA baths.

  17. and i quote "And I totally get that insecurities will keep a bear from approaching a guy (or honestly, any guy from approaching another he finds attractive), but it's kind of frustrating for non-bears when you guys club together in big groups that on the surface seem to be intolerant of other body types." be fair, what do you think it looks like to any bear, cub, chubby guy who walks into the average gay bar (outside of a lether/bear bar) in america?

    Looks like a bunch of skinny cute guys clubbed together in big groups that on the surface seem to be intolerant of any other body type

    im just saying (in a huge generalization based on bar behavior in several areas) that its probably pretty easy to trap a bear if you just talk to it...we just usually have no idea why you are staring/making eye contact. it may sound like low self esteem, and it probably is, but they honestly usually probably think your judging them.

    food for thought

  18. Buck Wild,

    Will it make you sad and convince you to come ravish me? Huh?

  19. RedPhillip,

    Thanks for the information about Troy. I didn't know that!

  20. Rahinpa,

    I've learned never to try to guess what particular guys will and won't do in a bathhouse situation. The ones you think would be stand-offish and aloof often turn out to be the biggest pigs, in those all-male spaces with the dark lighting.

    Of course, a lot of the times they're stand-offish and aloof, too.

  21. Yves,

    I hope you had a great evening too!

  22. M.B.,

    Which part turns you on, the slutty baths bit, or the bear bit?

  23. Jayson,

    You might feel intimidated on your first visit, but don't. Everyone's there for the same reason as you. I hope you might get adventurous and take that step!

  24. Anonymous 2:54,

    You seem to be under the assumption that I hang out in twink dance bars. I live in the midwest. Just about every bar is a bear bar.

    My experience last week at the neighborhood gay bar where I hang out consisted of trying to squeeze back and forth between packs of bears standing around on their iPhones, making fun of men's photos on Grindr. And then, when I stopped to compliment one of them on his singing and to smile at the rest of his group, being patted on the stomach and being told, "You can come back and talk to us when you've gained another fifty pounds, son." Only to have another in the group laugh and exclaim, "Seventy-five!"

    If they thought I was judging them, well . . . sounds to me more like I was the judged. Food for thought.

  25. I would have loved watching those bears standing on their iPhones. :)

  26. To the Breeder: You are right, you can NEVER tell what a guy might be into at the baths. On my first trip to the baths, a tall, muscled, blond adonis came and stood next to me. I'm a 6' 2" 215 lb. average looking black guy, the kind of guy Adonis here in Atl would NEVER even glance at publicly.

    I couldn't figure out why Mr. Adonis came and stood next to me and chatted me up. I'm a bottom and thought maybe I'd get to suck his dick.

    Turns out he wanted MY dick. He sucked it a little and next thing I knew, my fat black dick was in that muscled ass raw! Fucked him like a pro.

    Never saw that coming. You just never know!

  27. anonymous 2:15 here

    maybe i need to move to the midwest ;-)

  28. Yes :)

    Re-reading this one, it also particularly struck home (ahem) that you like having a big bear on top of you...


  29. Hawt damn! This is not unsurprising a reaction from you. And I am so looking to get my bear self in front of you! And behind you. And all over you. Oh, yeah.
    I can't speak for anyone else, least of all the bear community, but you are one hella attractive man in so many ways. To any one, not only to non-bears.
    P.S. It seems we all can get the 'not interested' vibe in too many instances, whether it is actually being sent or not. In this case, I will apologize for the bear community (in which I have no standing) or at least that group's response to your quite amiable gambit. Idiots, them!