Thursday, December 29, 2005
|The bains in my backyard.|
Yesterday I discovered that there is a gay gym and sauna (read: bathhouse) no less than two blocks away from me: Les Bains d'Odessa.
Imagine my surprise at knowing that any one of these nights when I've sat, sexually unsatisfied, I could have gone, worked out, swam, steamed and baissered all without leaving the quartier.
I have to wonder what the other residents of this building think of having a gay bathhouse there. What must they say when friends come over for the first time and ask, "Did you know there's a bath in this building? What's it like? Is it expensive?" and they say, "Uhm... they aren't really those kinds of baths..."
I arrived just in time to catch the last five minutes of a porn with this guy. I guess he wasn't lying about being a porn actor. Nothing makes you feel quite like hot shit at a bathhouse as much as knowing that you've done the guy on the TV.
It was a nice place, very clean, very warm. The decor was a little too New Orleans Vampire Bordello for my tastes, but in a way it felt correct. I cruised and was cruised. Swam, floated, steamed, and showered. And I stopped the hottest guy there, a well toned and nicely built young North African-looking guy, as he was passing me for the second time, pressed him up against the wall, kissed the nape of his neck, the crook of his upraised arm, lightly but forcefully slid my lips over his erect nipples, grabbed him by the towel and led him into a private room, grabbed a few condoms from the self-help bowl on the way, and closed the door.
Yesterday I discovered that there is a gay gym and sauna (read: bathhouse) no less than two blocks away from me: Les Bains d'Odessa.
Imagine my surprise at knowing that any one of these nights when I've sat, sexually unsatisfied, I could have gone, worked out, swam, steamed and baissered all without leaving the quartier.
I have to wonder what the other residents of this building think of having a gay bathhouse there. What must they say when friends come over for the first time and ask, "Did you know there's a bath in this building? What's it like? Is it expensive?" and they say, "Uhm... they aren't really those kinds of baths..."
I arrived just in time to catch the last five minutes of a porn with this guy. I guess he wasn't lying about being a porn actor. Nothing makes you feel quite like hot shit at a bathhouse as much as knowing that you've done the guy on the TV.
It was a nice place, very clean, very warm. The decor was a little too New Orleans Vampire Bordello for my tastes, but in a way it felt correct. I cruised and was cruised. Swam, floated, steamed, and showered. And I stopped the hottest guy there, a well toned and nicely built young North African-looking guy, as he was passing me for the second time, pressed him up against the wall, kissed the nape of his neck, the crook of his upraised arm, lightly but forcefully slid my lips over his erect nipples, grabbed him by the towel and led him into a private room, grabbed a few condoms from the self-help bowl on the way, and closed the door.
promulgated by SWS2.1 at 18:39.
4 comments
4 Comments:
That sounds tres fun.
When are you going back?
;-)
By 
, at
9:38 PM
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!
I don't think that I will be going back, but I am glad that I went.
Reading this belatedly, admittedly.
But Holy Moley, your posts are hot!
By , at
11:03 AM
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