Millers' Town Baths
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, comments send them to bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com
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Millers' Town was originally a company town on the edge of Richmond. The Miller Company made ceramic jugs, then branched out into pipe and tiles. By 1890 it was a huge operation and Ambrose Miller built housing for his workers. These were simple homes, but they were well built, all brick and had tile roofs. Ambrose died in 1889 and his son, Ambrose Jr. ran the company.
Ambrose's Daughter, Alice, was kind hearted and generous. She wasn't particularly perceptive, but all admitted she meant well. She built a church, school and clinic for the neighborhood. The clinic was associated with a public bath. Ambrose seemed to think that bathing was just pandering to the workers. His houses did not include baths.
There was a women and children's bath and a separate men's building. Alice thought nudity was sinful, so both the Miller Bath Buildings had individual rooms for each tub or shower. The baths had hot water which was rare in the city at the time. City water reached the area in 1900, and houses were fitted with toilets and undersized tubs.
By 1925 most of the houses had hot water and added a real bathroom. The women's bath was demolished for an addition to the school. The men's facility remained. The men worked at kilns all day and the they needed to clean off before they went home.
By 1960 the factory relocated to the suburbs and Millers' Town declined. In the later 1960s hippies and artists moved into the area since the houses were inexpensive. Most of the original residents were either elderly or dead.
Many of the new residents were gay and discovered the still functioning baths. Alice Miller had died years earlier. She was not perceptive and hadn't considered that small, private rooms with lockable doors were well suited for intimate encounters between men. Even when gay activity was illegal, police couldn't get warrants to get in the private rooms.
They sent undercover men to checkout the place. The Police chief was not as perceptive as he could be and his agents were either gay, or just enjoyed a good blow job.
Once the new residents discovered the potential of the baths, the neighborhood revival took hold with a vengeance. Free thinkers, artists, musicians and arty types flocked to the area, as did some bikers. The medical clinic next door flourished. The baths suggested taking a medical exam before joining, and this greatly reduced some medical problems.
I am Carl Jones, one of the bath's managers. I rented an apartment in Miller Town when I was a student in 1980 and stayed there. It was small and economical. My apartment sort of had hot water and the heat was irregular. I spent long hours at the library and tended to get home late, after the hot water was used up.
I had a cold for most of a semester, so I went to the neighborhood clinic. There I met Doc Sullivan. He gave me a thorough exam and told me I was fine. My cold apartment and cold showers were a problem and he mentioned the baths. I had heard about them but never thought about using them. I told him my hours were late and irregular. He told me the baths were open all night. Since I was a neighborhood resident, the baths were free.
When I came home in a rain storm one night I decided to try the baths. I was freezing and I knew I wouldn't get warm at my apartment. I went in and found the place was unexpectedly busy. I went into one of the clusters of bathrooms and ran into Doc Sullivan waiting in the corridor. He was wearing a bathrobe. After a little while I realized he was wearing nothing under the robe. There were several men ahead of me, but when Sullivan got a shower cubical, he said he would be glad to share it. I was so cold I went with him. I was under the hot water a minute later and felt better. It was wonderful and I didn't notice a third man joined us.
Johnny was a neighbor I had seen around and was the Doctor's pal. Dr. Sullivan was a good-looking man. Johnny wasn't as good looking, but he was very muscular. He was a brick mason. They were sitting nude on a bench talking. I am not used to nudity, but one part of me liked it, much to my embarrassment. Johnny noticed it, winked at me but kept on talking to Sullivan.
They got up and joined me in the shower. I tried not to look but I could tell that while they weren't hard, they weren't exactly soft either. "Are you feeling better?" Sullivan asked.
"Its so nice to be warm," I said. "I'm sorry about the erection. I've never showered with other guys before."
"Don't worry. It happens to me sometimes," Johnny said. He smiled and then added, "When I get lucky."
"Johnny's just joking, he gets lucky a lot, as do I," Sullivan added. "We are old pals, intimate pals and playmates."
Both men were tall. I'm five-feet-three and felt as if I was at crotch level. I know that is just a feeling, but I noticed Sullivan's cock was getting firm. I don't know what got into me, but I leaned over and licked the tip of his cock.
"You're a mind reader. Don't be shy, everything is fine," Johnny said.
"It's more than fine for me," Sullivan said. It was wonderful for me too. I sucked Johnny for a while too, and then he gently picked me up so Sullivan could suck me. Sullivan was an enthusiastic sucker.
"I'm going to cum!" I cried. He took my load and then took me from Johnny so Johnny could suck my remaining drool. Things calmed down and I left Sullivan and Johnny for home. I was warm, comfortable and happy. I slept well.
I was shocked at my reaction. I had never remotely done anything like that before, but it seemed right. Three days later I returned to the baths. Johnny was there talking to a friend. Johnny moved over so there was a place between them for me to sit.
"Pete, this is Carl. He's new here, but I think he will fit in well," Johnny said. I said hello to Pete. He was a short, beefy, hairy plumber. Pete seemed pleasant. We talked a little: a shower cubical door opened, and we went to it. We stripped and Pete got in the shower immediately and lathered up paying special attention to his cock. Johnny and I joined him. Pete peeled back his foreskin exposing his lavender cock head.
"What a pretty color," I said. It seems that being naked with other men erased any trace of my normal shyness.
"It tastes better than it looks. Our pal his nicknamed Leaky Pete," Johnny said. "For your information that is a compliment, not an insult."
I dropped to my knees and stuck out my tongue to lick his slit. Pete was leaking a sweet goo. That was a turn on. I swallowed the entire cock. We did some of the things we had done before, but Pete liked the bottom. I didn't exactly know what that was, but I soon found out. It seemed odd that anyone would enjoy doing that, but I was 100% wrong about that. Johnny had a tube of lubricant and he coated my cock with it. Pete bent over and my cock glided into his ass. Pete loved it. Johnny liked watching. I had a hard time gathering my feelings, but I shot off in Pete and he liked that too. I asked Pete if I had to take his cock in my ass.
"No, you don't have to take it unless you want it," he said.
"I'm not sure I would ever want that," I said.
Pete smiled. "I wouldn't bet the ranch on that," he replied. I guess you could say my horizons were expanding. I sucked Johnny, and when he told me he was going to shoot off, I didn't pull away from his cock. Precum tasted better than sperm, but there was something exciting about sperm. I don't know if sexual ecstasy has a taste, but if there is a taste, it is in freshly spurted cum. After that I became a regular at the bath and eventually, I worked there.
A few weeks later, I was at the bath on Sunday morning. Sullivan was there with Johnny, Pete and several men I didn't know, but I recognized from the neighborhood. Johnny told me that they had reserved ten rooms for a private party. This was for the bath's Patron's Club.
I asked what that was. He explained that Sullivan founded it for some of the regulars. "We are guys who like sex but aren't night club types and are a bit picky. We are all Sullivan's patients and are in good health with no sexual diseases. That means we can have anxiety free sex," Johnny said.
"What exactly is anxiety free sex?" I asked.
"Bareback fucking and cum guzzling," he replied. I laughed and asked of those were medical terms.
"The Latin terms are too complicated," Johnny said. "You are a prospective member."
"Why do you think that?" I asked.
"You like what we have been doing, and you're seem accommodating. A good portion of the gay community comes here. They have never seen you in a bar or club. That is a plus. You are shy and have trouble finding friends. You are almost a virgin," he said. "Sullivan watched you come alive when his lips touched your cock the first time. He thinks you would like it, and he knows we will like you."
"What does it take to join the Patrons?" I asked.
"Just be friendly and pleasant," he explained. He held up a chain with a medallion attached. It had MTB engraved on it. "This identifies members. If you are interested, I will give you one." I said I would think about it.
I went in a room with a Redneck named Moses and a Black guy named Diesel. Both were big men and wore medallions. They were ordinary guys, Moses worked for the DPW, and Diesel was a truck mechanic. Both were friendly, mellow and sexually generous. Diesel asked if I had a problem with Black men. I said no. I might have had a problem with Rednecks, but Moses was such a good sucker I didn't have a chance to complain. I realized the usefulness of the medallion. I would never have connected with either man without the mark of approval.
All of that was three years ago. Now I am working at the baths. I tell people that I'm working on a novel. That seems to be taking more time than I thought. I usually handle the ten-to-six-night shift. One might think that would be the quiet time of the day. Restaurants tend to close at ten, night clubs at midnight. Some guys like a sperm night cap. I am on with Marty Smithson. He is a 250-pound biker who likes everyone to be quiet and polite. He is a member of the Patrons' Club. While he is quiet and pleasant, he has standards. He is helpful since I am 5'-3. No one is rowdy near Marty. There are jokes about that every day
The bath is Gothic on the outside and all glazed tile inside. The bath cubicles are on four corridors each with a waiting room and ten baths. The four waiting rooms are large and have an ornamental tile bench built into the walls. These were for the employees to wait for a bath to become available. One of the regulars, Dixon LeRoy calls the waiting rooms the beauty pageant. Marty calls them the meat racks. I think both names are inappropriate. Most of our bathers are neither beauties, nor just meat. Being friendly, affable and open minded are more important than attitude. You can't tell a person's class or economic status when they are naked.
I will admit our clientele is imaginative about what they wear in the waiting rooms. Kilts, rain coats, jock straps and thongs make appearances from time to time. In colder weather robes are preferred. In the summer, loose fitting shorts are common. It isn't as overt as it might sound, but if you glance at a guy long enough you may get to see the man's equipment.
If you complain about the long wait, someone might offer to share a cubical. You can lock the door if you want privacy. Some men leave the door slightly ajar. When you look in the occupant might invite you in. Some are exhibitionists and leave the door open. No means no, and all the regular visitors know that.
If you are drunk, you can't get in the bath area. There is a room next to the entrance which serves as a crash pad for those who shouldn't drive. They can sleep it off there.
The last cubical on the left in each corridor somehow acquired some hooks in the walls. If you happened to have a sling in your duffle bag, these hooks can be useful. As I said, the men were inventive and imaginative.
A small, academically oriented man like me is not a catch. Marty is experienced and seems to have taken me on as a project. I helped him out with some problems with the city building department. I had been a proof reader in a lawyer's office. I could understand the regulations and was able to show that Marty was in the right and pointed out several errors in the regulations.
A few men come daily. Other's come once or twice a week. We classify them as regulars. There are some who visit weekly and then we have guests who regularly visit Richmond. They usually come with a friend who is a regular patron.
Of course, we don't advertize at all, and since we are in an out to the way spot, we rarely have drop ins. I have been working the desk at the Baths for four years or so. I know just about all the men. I am not a gossip, but I am observant. I know who is shy and timid and seem to have an understanding what guys are looking for.
Calvin likes granddaddy types. Chester likes working men, especially construction workers. Max is into average Joes and Stan likes teachers and professors. I often suggest a corridor which has men who might be of interest.
Stan came with a new man, Lawrence, who dressed like a professor. It would be more correct to say he dressed like a professor in the 1940s. He wore a tweed coat, with leather patches on the elbows, a tie, and gray slacks. He was six feet three, bald and sported a well-groomed beard. He looked distinguished. He became a regular.
While he looked standoffish, he was pleasant, and we discussed my novel and his work. He was a historian. Stan liked him, but said his endowment was too big to have sex as enjoyable as it could be. He said sometimes there could be too much of a good thing.
One day, I was finishing my shift at 6:00 AM when Lawrence came in. I went to the baths and we were in the same waiting room. He winked at me and I joined him in a shower cubical. He was indeed big, but it was not too much of a good thing.
"I was hoping we would get together," he said. "Let me be frank. I am over sexed, and I was hoping for some play time. I hope that doesn't offend you?" I didn't answer, but I leaned over and sucked him. He took that as a yes. He was so tall it didn't need to lean over much. His cock immediately responded.
"I have a little confession to make. Stan told me you have a cock with an unusual bend. He said his prostate loved it, I am a bit curious," Lawrence said. "Now than I have said it, it sounds tacky and crude."
"I have no problem with that," I replied. "I am glad to be of service!" I knew my cock bent down rather than up when I was erect. I didn't know other guys had noticed it. My cock had a slight narrowing next to my body. This acted as a natural cock ring that gave me considerable stamina while fucking. Several men complimented me on that.
Lawrence's ass was receptive, and my cock seemed to greatly excite him. After about fifteen minutes Lawrence asked if I wanted to try him on for size. I told him I would try but asked that he take his time. He told me he was careful. That was an understatement.
What happened next surprised us both. I am a small man, but I seemed to have a generously scaled ass. He lubricated his cock and my ass. He had long fingers and he massaged my ass as he lubricated me. That included massaging and lubricating my sphincter. He pushed deeper and massaged my prostate. I was surprised at that, but my prostate seemed to like it.
"You like that?" he asked. I nodded. "My cock is going to visit some places that no one has visited before. Think of my cock as an explorer in a new territory. I'm hunting for long hidden treasure," he added.
"Gold?" I asked in a cynical tone.
"If you are lucky you will have a hands-free orgasm combined with a trip to the moon," he said as he slipped his monster tool into me. A few seconds later us cock head was at my prostate, and a second or two later, he was on the dark side.
"Tell me you want it all?" he demanded.
"Get it in me!" I managed to croak. It was tight, but his hips made a rotating movement, that stretched me and opened my ass more. It was tight but not too tight. It was good for me, but wonderful for Lawrence. My ass and rectum were in direct contact with every inch of his tool.
As I said, it was good for me, but it soon got better. I think his cock transmitted his excitement into me. Intense pleasure grew until he had a Fourth of July type grand finale. He left his cock in me until he had a final ejaculation. It was lovely.
He pulled out and we calmed down. "For a while there, I thought I was in love with you," he said. "The feeing vanished after I pulled out, but it was good."
"I didn't think it would fit," I said. "It was beautiful."
Lawrence and I connected every week or two, and the sex continued to get better. He had several major academic studies underway. He was not particularly computer literate and I showed him how to search for obscure information. He hired me as a research assistant. Since I could do that while working at the baths, it was a good arrangement.
He also knew of several men who had his problem. His friends were well hung and had trouble finding men who could take their cocks. The problem wasn't taking the oversized tools; it was enjoying it. I thought of them as Lawrence's students. They used his technique to enter a tight ass. The gay telegraph seemed to spread that information quickly. At first, I was worried that I was sort of a pet. A small man who liked big cocks.
I stopped worrying when I realized I enjoyed as much as they did.
There were several things I noticed about the Patrons. They were all either over-sexed, or totally sex crazed. The baths were ideal for them since many of the members were gay or straight, but willing. Sullivan thought the baths improved their mental state. They didn't need to prowl or even cruise. There were willing men everywhere. Sex was all fun with little stress.
It was hard to be jealous or possessive. True love was not the objective. This may sound odd, but I noticed that it was easier to find love when you are not looking for it. When a man is relaxed and not stressed, he seems to be more attractive. A laid back, relaxed man is more suited for a long-term relationship, than an overstressed, sex crazed man.