Ali Baba Baths 5 By Bald Hairy Man
This is a story for adult men. It depicts gay sex. If this offends or bothers you, DO NOT READ IT. It is a fantasy and is not a sex manual, or a discussion of safe sex. If you have any comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com
Omar was a good businessman and hated any lull in the activity at the baths. The bath wasn't a major income source for him, but he didn't want to lose money on it either. The baths were always clean and he was opposed to prostitution. That practice could get him into trouble with the police. One of his bath attendants, Amir, seemed to have a nose for working boys. Amir worked with the boiler and hot water heater most of the time. When Omar found a suspicious visitor, Amir would leave the boiler room and prowl the upper floors. I never discovered his technique, but he had a knack for uncovering party boys and predators. Sexually we were a mutual aid society. Everything was free will and free from commercial considerations.
Omar's fee structure was flexible. For me the baths were almost free. I was young and sexually generous. Some businessmen paid as much as $50.00 a month to bathe. Omar also offered guest passes for a day to friends of friends. These men were often from out of town, or had a difficult time getting away. These men wore red bracelets to identify them as visitors.
I discovered these men were often enthusiastic and eager. Since they often had only a few hours, they could be generous in giving and receiving pleasure. The Ali Baba was a Turkish bath, but the social and sexual aspect was always present.
The slowest period at the baths was Sunday morning up to the middle of the afternoon. Church and family demands made it difficult for members to get to the baths. Eventually a group of men known as the Free Thinkers began to fill this time slot.
The Free Thinkers were men who had no church or family obligations. Some were socialists, others bohemian artists and some were plain old cranks or eccentrics. I didn't fit into any of these categories, but I was free on Sundays and Omar told me I might like some of the men.
I went to the baths at 9:30 on a Sunday morning and found an unexpected collection of men. I expected to find young men with wild hair and radical attitudes, and I found them. They tended to sit in the steam room and talk. I am neither wild nor radical, but their conversations interested me. Having never encountered it before, it was a window into a world I didn't know.
Some men were just crackpots, there were some labor leaders and socialists, some avant-guard artists and a man who thought the government was controlling his thought by using invisible telegraph waves. This man, named Roscoe, believed he was the only man that knew this and engaged in a letter writing campaign to Government officials in Washington to expose the plot. Curiously, he did not understand Morse code. He thought our minds were configured to understand the code from birth.
I admit some of the ideas these men talked about were silly, but others had merit. Some men had odd solutions for real problems, other were realists trying to improve the lot of their fellow men. When you read about the men in the newspapers some seemed merely eccentric; others seemed dangerous. When I saw them naked at the baths, I saw them as men. Wild theories about the world and society do not seem to affect the way a cock responds to excitement. Their minds may have been unconventional, but their cocks liked the same things a stockbroker's member did.
Sexual adventurism also seemed to be unrelated to social status or political beliefs. Some of the radicals were most conservative sexually. A few were concerned that they might be exploiting their friends for personal pleasure. Others were simply shy. I also found that while great thoughts by great men can be exciting, when you are naked, it is often the cock that attracts.
Roscoe was proof of the attractive powers of the cock. Roscoe was unimpressive physically. He was short, with a straggly beard and watery blue eyes. A quarter of his body weight was in his cock. It all but dragged on the floor. Roscoe was sexually timid, shy and uneasy. Two artists seem to have made him into a project. Kenbridge Wells and Maximilian Smith were strapping fellows who sculpted soldiers for Civil War monuments and espoused free love.
I had a strong feeling their interest in free love was based on a desire to exercise their own organs, more than for the welfare of the world in general. That being said, they were cheerful, hearty fellows and good company. They also were practical jokers. Both men were handsome, well endowed and much in demand, even by the anarchists.
Maximilian and Kenbridge began to cozy up to Roscoe, expressing interest in his telegraphic theories. Roscoe found few men willing to discuss his obsession, so he was pleased as punch. While Roscoe was shy and tended to conceal his sex organ, the artists were free and easy and while one would sit next to him, the other would stand in front. Thus, his cock was in Roscoe's face.
This made Roscoe uneasy, but he adapted quickly. Maximilian tended to get excited easily, so Roscoe often had a partially or fully erect organ inches from his nose. Kenbridge often had his arm around Roscoe's shoulders and the other on his leg. Of course, Roscoe got hard and both artists were effusive in their praise for his erect manhood. Praise was a new experience for Roscoe.
When I visited the bath the next weekend, Kenbridge had his cock in Roscoe's face and Maximilian stroked the monster cock. The organ began to ooze ball juices and Maximilian leaned over and licked them up. This induced a full-scale orgasm of impressive extent.
As far as I knew, Maximilian was more of a shooter than and sucker and I had never seen his take a load of man-seed before. I will say Maximilian took it like a man. They were in the corner of the room and Kenbridge's body provided some privacy. Often there would be polite applause for an orgasm, but Roscoe's climax passed without notice.
Maximilian and Kenbridge traded places. Much to my surprise Kenbridge sucked up the remains of Roscoe's orgasm. Roscoe leaned forward and licked Maximilian's cock. When his tongue touched the bloated cock head, Roscoe shivered and twitched. He spurted a final ejaculation into Kenbridge's mouth. Later I heard Roscoe telling the artists this had been the best day of his life.
The artists were sophisticated and handsome men of the world. They moved in a world of artists' models and distinguished artists. The interlude with Roscoe had been a lark, a joke to them. I was quite sure it wasn't a joke to Roscoe.
One rarely loses a bet by underestimating a man's ability to disappoint you. Men as handsome and self assured as Kenbridge and Maximilian can easily forget to treat the non self-assured and unattractive as human beings. My fears were unrealized. They liked and enjoyed Roscoe.
The artists were providers of sperm, and rarely took it. Later I found out Roscoe was the first to feed them his manly home brew directly from the spigot. While Roscoe was not an ideal masculine specimen, his genitals were impressive in the extreme and his balls were generously productive of man seed, juices and lubricants.
Maximilian and Kenbridge had dabbled in cock sucking and had sampled sperm of average men, but these modest spurts seemed dainty compared to Roscoe huge loads. Their lark with Roscoe turned into a voyage of sexual exploration.
I noticed many men are attracted to young men, sometimes very young men. I prefer mature men who are masculine and fully adult rather than effeminate. The chorus boys of the Great White Way had no attraction for me. The two artists seemed to share my tastes. Roscoe's ultra masculine genitals and sexual apparatus attracted Alonso and Kenbridge. They loved it and by extension him.
Roscoe not only came to experience regular sexual release with the artists, it seemed his obsession with telegraphic mind control vanished as he regularly began to drain his balls. Omar firmly believed stale, old sperm stored in balls was bad for you. That seemed to be the case for Roscoe. He looked better and made more sense as the sex with the artists increased.
The sex increased. The artists were explorers, interested in new experiences. I think Roscoe's organ exerted an almost hypnotic influence on them. During the week, sex at the baths tended to be quiet and refined. It was mostly one on one oral done in the misty shadows. Anal sex was mostly achieved by sitting on a hard cock or on someone's lap. One man liked to ease his cock in only deep enough to rub the prostate with his knob. This was effective, but the first few times I saw him do it, it was so subtle I was unaware of what he was doing.
Sex was constant and sometimes continuous at the baths, but the character of the sex varied depending on the time and a patrons present. It was always in public, since there were no nooks in which to hide. Some men were vocal and thus we all knew when they were having an orgasm, but most were discrete. Them might whisper encouragements or instructions, or cry out during the actual orgasm. While there might be ten or fifteen men in the steam room, some men would be chatting quietly as others might just as quietly experience the heights of sexual pleasure, observed but not disturbed.
On Saturday and Sunday, sex was more overt. It would be safe to say cocks undulated and rubbed during the week. They could pound on the weekend. While during the week some men clenched their asses, asses were relaxed and open on the weekend. Anal sex tended to be doggy style or spread eagled.
The Sunday morning men were not refined or quiet. They also preferred fucking to sucking and had no problem doing it openly. Kenbridge and Maximilian were tops who had a taste for longer sessions. As far as I knew they never bottomed, but lusty thoughts filled the air and Roscoe's cock had an allure. Omar thought a huge cock sometimes made the most confirmed top's ass itch.
Once Roscoe's huge, erect organ was on view and he was frolicking with the Artists, his popularity grew. So far, no one had taken the plunge and opened their ass for him. I knew there was interest. Kenbridge and Maximilian also seemed to have spread their wings. They had tended to select men who had potential to be artist's models. They were now easing their cocks into non-model types with considerable success for them and their playmates.
Oddly, I noted that political liberalism and indeed radicalism was not related to sexual attitudes. Ivan, a Russian revolutionary was shy sexually. He was a giant of a man, built like a Russian Hercules, but he tended to watch rather than participate in sexual situations. His massive beard made him look older, but he was barely in his thirties. Jan, an anti-Hapsburg agitator from Moravia, was much the same. He had spent some time in a Hapsburg jail and looked much older than his years.
Maximilian was proud of his body and sexual prowess. He liked to be watched and there was no shortage of men willing to bend over for him. I noticed that Ivan got a bit misty eyed when he saw Maximilian in action. I was standing next to him as he watched Maximilian massage a man's prostate. I saw Ivan's cock head emerge from his pubic bush. His knob had just parted the foreskin and I saw his moist slit for the first time.
I am not the most forward of persons, but I dropped to the floor and licked the slit. Ivan jumped, but didn't leave. My lips peeled back the skin and I took the entire head into my mouth. His knob was large, but as my tongue caressed it, he twitched and shivered in excitement. His head must have been very sensitive.
No one had seen Ivan sexually excited before, so there was considerable interest and several men came over to help. Some might snicker at the phrase to help. They wanted to have sex with the giant man, that is true, but many of the Sunday morning men were loners, single men who live in cheap rooms alone. Ivan avoided personal attachments in to avoid the Czarist police and to protect them against arrest. Of course, the Czarist police played no role in New York but a lifetime of fear does not vanish when you disembark from a steamer.
Jan and Roscoe joined us, as did Maximilian. Soon the Russian giant was fully erect. Ivan's organ was as thick as Roscoe's cock, but not as long. At first, I thought it was short and stubby, but it was so thick, you tended to underestimate the length. He possessed a battering ram style cock. I got up to take a breath and Maximilian replaced me sucking the beautiful man tool. Jan was short, thick and hairy. His cock also appeared so I sucked him too.
Poor Jan almost burst into tears. A second later, he filled my mouth with his steamy man seed. Jan had a vocal orgasm, and this pushed Ivan over the edge. Maximilian took it with enthusiasm. Maximilian didn't swallow and we traded sperm afterwards.
Max and I sat and talked. "I notice you are a most open minded man," he said. "I take it you enjoy taking a cock in your behind?"
"I didn't think I would enjoy it, but my ass is a better sport than my brain," I replied. "I took a cock the first time just to be polite. I liked it. It seems to me the more you do it, the better it gets."
"What is it like compared to sucking or topping? I've never done it."
"For me it's more intense," I said. "
"Did it hurt?" he asked. "Some of the men here are large."
"Well, it defiantly takes some getting used to," I replied. "It's easier here, where everyone is experienced and there is no need to rush. Men can take time to open you up and then have to time to let you get use to it. The first five or ten minutes can be tense."
"I find Roscoe very exciting." Maximilian said, "The huge organ almost mesmerizes me."
"You want to take that up your ass?" I asked. Maximilian nodded.
"I'm not sure Roscoe is well suited for a beginner," I said. "I would recommend a course of study and think some experimentation is in order."
"Would you like to be first?" he asked. It was my turn to nod.
"What does Kenbridge think about your new interest?" I asked. "Would he be offended if a stranger's cock was in you?"
Maximilian smiled. "He is quite enthusiastic. He has some of the same interests, but is more timid than I." The artist got on his hands and knees. As I guessed, the first ten minutes were uncomfortable. Maximilian was tight and apparently, his sphincter had not been consulted about his plans for it. While it wasn't easy, Maximilian was excited and encouraging. He asked me to slow down a few times, but once he got use to the invader in his ass, he wanted me to go deeper. Fortunately, his prostate overruled the sphincter when I rammed it.
I felt him react when my cock head rubbed his prostate. I worked the small gland until I felt his ass relax and felt him open. Maximilian surrendered. I had been in his position just a month or two earlier. I remembered the fear, confusion and excitement from when Gustav slipped his cock into my ass the first time.
Being a proper and conventional man I didn't know what I was supposed to feel. Was I being defiled or liberated? Was Gustav degrading me, or teaching me a new skill. Fortunately, while I was confused, my sexual organs were fully engaged and loved it. It is odd that your sexual brain can be so much more clear headed than your actual brain. It knew Gustav's cock opened a new world of pleasure for me.
I sensed Maximilian was reacting the same way. His ass was tight, so I didn't last long. I had an entirely satisfactory orgasm. Ivan had been watching and he took my place. The battering ram had no problem at all stretching Maximilian's ass wider. Ivan was enthusiastic, but gentle. He winded Maximilian, but soon the artist got into it and moaned in appreciation.
Ivan too had a spectacular orgasm and injected his load in Maximilian's quivering ass. I assumed Maximilian was done with his lessons for the day. I was amazed he could take Ivan's meat. Roscoe had a different plan. I found out later Roscoe knew Maximilian's desires.
Roscoe stepped up to the plate and eased his massive organ into the artist's ass. There was no way for Maximilian's well stretched and sperm filled hole to resist. It looked like a conjurer's tick and the huge organ vanished in Maximilian's hole.
I don't think either man expected it to be as good as it was. Maximilian was in a blissful trance; Roscoe looked as if he had just discovered the Holy Grail. It was lovely. Oddly, Roscoe looked almost handsome as he pumped his organ in the artist's ass. His cock, that was almost grotesquely large, was an object of beauty as it probed deeply.
Maximilian was sweaty and his ass puffy from hard use. The creamy remains of Ivan and my orgasms oozed from his ass as Roscoe filled the rectal void. It was as if there wasn't space for a single drop of our sperm when Roscoe's organ filled the void.
Kenbridge came over to watch. I wasn't sure how he would react. Roscoe pulled out, exposing his massive organ. Maximilian's ass remained open, still drooling sperm. Then it closed up. Roscoe's cock head touched the hole and Maximilian shivered in anticipation. He actually tried to open his ass to caress the invader. I have heard men talk about ass lips. Now I watched Max's ass lips caress each inch of Roscoe's love organ as it eased into his body. He shivered when it rubbed his prostate.
Sperm splattered on Roscoe and Maximilian's body. I looked and saw it was Kenbridge having a hands free orgasm. I wouldn't need to ask him if he approved of his friends sexual explorations.
This event changed Roscoe's life for the better. Once men realized his sexual potential, they came to see him as a man, not just a well-endowed crank. His cock didn't fit in everyone's ass, but it was good for some. Kenbridge couldn't take it, but he enjoyed watching Roscoe's organ vanish in Maximilian's ass so much, he shared the experience.
I did not expect to find older, grandfather types with wild hair and even more radical approaches to life in this group. I associated radicalism with youth. That was wrong. While I was too proper for some of the younger men, older men were more interesting to me, and they in turn were most interested in me.
The younger men tended to congregate in the steam room while the older men seemed to like the swimming pool. Unexpectedly the older men were less shy and more outgoing than the younger men were. The younger men told themselves they were there to meet and talk to friends and like spirits. They saw sexual release as an extra-added attraction.
For the older men it was the opposite. They wanted some sexual fun first. Any interesting conversation was good, but not essential. Many men kept towels covering their privates in the steam room. The swimming pool was entirely nude. There is no way for a man to hide his sexual interest when he is nude. I was not sure that any of the men in the pool had any desire to hide their interests anyway. When I entered the pool, they greeted me with rising cocks.
I had heard older men lost interest in sex as they aged. That didn't seem to be a problem here at all.