This gay erotic fiction is based on a trip I made to a gay sauna here in Melbourne recently – where I learned a valuable lesson.
A gay bathhouse isn’t exactly the ideal spot for someone with low-to-mid self-esteem. Kinda like the hookup apps, it’s all about the visuals. You walk in, and it’s a parade of bare bodies of all shapes and sizes, flexing egos, and guys who know how to work a towel like it’s a damn art form. The setup’s different from the real world, too — new social cues, nothing like the texting dance on Grindr where you can hide behind a witty line or a blurry pic. I’m no Adonis myself: average build, a little soft around the middle, with messy brown hair that always looks like I just rolled out of bed. My hazel eyes catch the steam’s glow, but I’m not fooling anyone with the modest definition in my arms. Still, I can’t seem to stay away. There’s something about the horny buzz in the air, the fact that it’s a space packed with horny men. Men who are there to hook up, get off, and chase pleasure with other guys. It pulls me back every time, mid-self-esteem or not.
I usually start with a couple of laps when I visit, scoping out the options and sizing up the competition. The place is a maze. Lockers are clanking, steam hissing from the sauna, the faint slap of skin echoing from the open play areas, the louder moans coming from the private rooms and booths. I’ll usually see something I like in these early stages. There are always a couple of guys I’d love to play with, or some action that I’d love to join. And that’s always the hardest part for me. Making that first move. To be more specific it’s knowing how and when to make that first move. Polite eye contact versus interested eye contact. How do you even tell? How long does a glance need to linger before it’s a clear signal of intent? A touch as you pass someone. How much or where do you touch someone to signal intent? What if I make a move and the guy isn’t interested? I’ve spent hours overthinking it, watching hot action unfold while I hover on the sidelines, dick half-hard but feet glued to the floor. Last week, I learned my lesson.
On this occasion, I started with my regular laps around the place. Early on, I spotted a guy by the hot tub, his broad shoulders glistening with sweat, dark hair plastered to his forehead, a tribal tattoo curling around his bicep. I knew he was out of my league, but I gave him a lingering glance before moving on. The cruising area was a mix of lean runners and burly bears, but my eyes kept drifting to two guys who stood out. I saw them in the porn theatre and again in the hallway of the cruising area. The first has a scruffy beard framing a chiselled jaw, his dark hair cropped short, and a lean frame that moves with a predator’s gaze. His partner, shorter but solid, sports a buzz cut and a tattoo snaking down his arm; the ink is an eye-catching contrast to his tanned skin. They’re hot, also out of my league, and I feel a flush creep up my neck as I pass them.
After a couple of hours strolling around, peeking at porn playing on the TVs, catching glimpses of guys going at it in the open spaces, I realised I’d been too passive. I’d seen that couple again, the bearded one with a smirk that hinted at mischief, his hazel eyes locking on mine briefly, while the tattooed guy’s broad chest heaved as he laughed with his partner. They’d glanced my way a few times, and I’d nodded back, shy but hopeful, noticing them looking over their shoulders at me like they were testing the waters. I did a few more laps, sweating it out in the steam room’s darkness, my hand slipping beneath the hot tub’s surface to stroke myself, the warm water lapping at my chest. Then I headed back to the cruising area, wondering if anyone would make a move on me for once.
That’s when I saw them again, posted up in the hallway near the private rooms. The bearded one’s lips curled into a grin, his stubble glinting in the dim light, while the tattooed guy’s muscular arms flexed as he shifted. They spotted me passing, both turning to look, both smiling – small, knowing grins. As I stepped by, they glanced over their shoulders again. Our eyes locked, and something clicked. I stopped, heart hammering, and in seconds, they closed the gap. Hands were on me – groping my chest, sliding down my sides – the bearded one’s calloused fingers rough on my skin, the tattooed guy’s inked arms warm around me. Lips crashed against mine, a messy, eager kiss. The bearded one claimed my mouth, his tongue diving in with hunger, his breath minty and hot. The tattooed guy attacked my neck, sucking and licking, his buzz cut tickling my jaw.
“Private room,” the bearded one muttered, his deep voice rumbling against my skin as he guided us down another hall. We found an empty one and stumbled inside. It was small and dim, with a narrow bench and a lock. The action exploded as soon as that lock clicked shut. They pounced, the bearded one back onto my neck, his lips and tongue trailing my collarbone, while the tattooed one returned his mouth to mine, his full lips soft yet fierce. I felt their eagerness, their hard-ons pressing me as I reached out, brushing their cocks through the towels. The bearded one’s was thick, the tattooed guy’s longer and curving, both rock hard and electric.
“You’re so hot,” the bearded one whispered, nibbling my earlobe, his beard prickling my suddenly sensitive skin.
“Told you he’d be into us,” the tattooed guy growled, his dark eyes gleaming as he pulled back.
Guilt hit me – they’d been stalking me all night, and I’d appeared as the aloof hot guy, too good to engage. I’d felt that rejection before, and it stung. I had to make up for it. Yanking their towels off, I gripped their cocks and began jerking them slowly, relishing their hardness. The bearded one groaned, and his lean abs tightened. The tattooed guy’s thighs flexed as he thrust into my hand. They moaned, leaning in, and I moaned back, our sounds blending. Their hands roamed – groping my ass, my chest – the bearded one’s fingers digging into my hips, the tattooed one’s palm hot on my back, breaking the kiss to explore.
The tattooed guy dropped to his knees as he slipped my towel off my hips. His broad shoulders rolled as he took my length into his mouth, my cock quickly hitting his throat. I groaned, the wet heat intense, his buzz cut brushing me. He worked me with sloppy strokes, while the bearded one kissed me, his tongue sinking, his stubble rasping my chin. The cramped space amplified the moans that escaped our lips as one guy used his tongue on my rigid dick and the other used his in my open and eager mouth.
I grunted as the stocky sucker took me deep again, my hand gripped his head to hold him in place. His taller partner broke the kiss and looked down, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of his boyfriend with a mouthful of my dick. My body shuddered and I released him. He gagged a little before sitting back, gasping.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,” I panted, chest heaving.
“Us too,” the bearded one grinned, his hazel eyes softening. “Make it up to us.”
I smiled in return and quickly knelt on the floor. With a quick movement, I slipped my wet lips down the thickness of the panting, shorter man who was still sitting against the wall. I opened my throat and took him deep, returning the treatment that he had given me. As I worked his length in and out of my mouth, I felt the presence of his taller counterpart beside me. His hand ran down my arm before he guided my fingers around his dick. I willingly accepted the length, stroking it slowly. Shifting my legs, I quickly found a comfortable position. Now that I was pleasuring each of these hot men, I wanted to make sure they knew just how into them I was. I worked in sync, stroking one’s entire length as I deep-throated the other. Spurred on each time I felt one of them twitch, whenever a moan echoed off the walls. I felt their hands roam my body, occasionally moving to the back of my head and pushing me just a bit deeper.
Those hands moved quickly, and I suddenly felt myself being lifted from my prone position to stand again. As quickly as I could look down, both boys moved to take my cock between their lips. Two sets of lips and two wet tongues slid against my length. The sensation quickly heightened my arousal, as did the visual of two hot men worshipping me. I leant against the opposite wall, sighing as they continued to work my length.
“Fuck boys. I’ve been needing a threesome for so long,” I said quietly as I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling alone.
They both moaned in response before shifting. I felt one set of lips wrap around my head while I felt the other tongue run across my balls. As their mouths worked me over, their hands continued to roam, sliding over my thighs and groping my ass. My legs stiffened as the intensity of the feeling stepped up again. I looked down, and both of them looked up at me in unison, without slowing their pace. I reached down and ran a hand over their heads, feeling the buzz cut of one and the thick locks of the other, before slowly sliding myself back and down.
Now we were all on our knees. Without a word passing between us, we all moved forward and our lips met. A three-way kiss isn’t always easy, but these boys knew what they were doing. Our tongues battled for space between us, sliding over each other as our lips smacked together. I reached out and took a dick in each hand, squeezing as we made out.
From then on the movements were a whirlwind of pleasure. We swapped between intense kisses and deep blowjobs. There wasn’t a single moment where I didn’t have a cock in my hand or mouth and mine was never without some slicked-up attention. I knelt to suck the bigger guy and his partner quickly moved down as well, taking my dick in his hand and stroking me in time with my movements. I felt his fingers beneath my chin before he guided me back to his mouth. We kissed passionately while he stroked us both. Our kiss was interrupted by the tattooed guy sliding his thick cock between our lips.
The room was filled with the slick sounds of smacking lips, slurping mouths and sliding fingers. Our moans echoed off the walls and I knew they were being heard up and down the hallway.
I shifted again, swirling my tongue around the bearded one’s thick head, his chest vibrating with groans, then turning to take the tattooed guy’s longer shaft deep, his hips bucking. At one point, I had both tips in my mouth and looked up to see them making out, the bearded one’s hands tweaking his boyfriend’s nipples, their grunts loud and unashamed.
“I hope this is making it up to you guys.” I slowly stood again, allowing all of us a moment to catch our breath.
“Fuck you’re hot.” That was all the bearded guy said as they both stepped forward again.
I smirked as they placed their hands on my cock – a hot combination of rough and smooth fingers. They knelt, sucking me in turn, their mouths relentless. I ran fingers through their hair – the bearded one’s silky dark strands, the tattooed guy’s prickly buzz – encouraging them further. They locked eyes, stroking themselves, precum shining. I grabbed the tattooed guy’s hair, shoving my cock deep into his throat. He gagged, tears welling, but the bearded one pushed him.
“Take it. You can do better,” he growled.
Tingling hit my toes – I wouldn’t last if I kept this up.
I pulled him up, kissing hard, my tongue diving in, his beard scraping. His partner licked my cock slowly, tracing every vein, his tanned skin flushed. I thrust deep, he gagged, determined. The bearded one moaned, tweaking my nipple, jerking himself, his abs clenching. We were all on edge.
I pulled the tatted one up next, our lips meeting in a messy kiss, his stubble rough against my cheeks. Our hands found each other’s cocks, slick fingers moving fast, matching the rhythm of our quickening breaths. The room was thick with sweat and moans, the stench of impending orgasm hanging heavy in the air.
“I’m gonna cum,” I gasped into their mouths, the words tumbling out as my body tensed.
They nodded, their own climaxes close, their eyes locked on mine with a shared intensity. Their bodies stiffened against me. The bearded one’s lean frame trembling, his muscles quivering under my touch. The tattooed guy’s muscular arms flexed as he gripped my hips. Their cocks pulsed in my hands, the tattooed guy grunting as his load spilled over my fingers, hot and sticky, while the bearded one’s shot splattered against my feet, his groan echoing off the walls. My grip weakened as I followed, my orgasm hitting hard. Shot after shot arced out to hit the floor and splatter against their legs, the release leaving me dizzy.
“Fuck, you boys are fun,” I said, slumping back against the wall.
My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath. I watched them grab their towels, the bearded one’s lean back was glistening with sweat, the muscles of his spine shifting as he moved. His partner’s tattoo rippled across his tanned skin, the ink dancing with each step. They slowly wiped each other’s bodies down, removing the mix of cum that had hit them both. As they finished, they turned to me and smiled.
“Thanks,” they said together.
“Hope to see you again sometime,” I replied, my voice hoarse, a lazy grin spreading across my face.
The bearded boy reached out and gave my still hard cock another slow stroke. “Looks like you had a good time.”
“Next time, say something sooner,” the bearded one smiled, his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief as he turned to unlock the door. His stubble caught the dim light one last time, a rugged contrast to the softness in his gaze. They stepped out, leaving me spent, my legs giving way as I slid down to sit against the cool wall, the door clicking shut behind them. The room felt emptier now, the air still thick with the scent of sex, my body buzzing with aftershocks that twitched my dick that refused to go down.
I wondered if they’d meant it – the invitation to see them again. The bearded one’s smile had seemed genuine, his lean frame moving with a confidence that drew me in, while the tattooed guy’s muscular build promised more of that raw energy. Maybe next time, I wouldn’t hesitate. Maybe I’d spot them early, catch that first glance, and hold it long enough to signal intent. The thought sent a flicker of heat through me, my dick twitching despite the exhaustion. I thought about their hands, their mouths, the way the bearded one’s calloused fingers had gripped me, the tattooed guy’s smooth palms sliding over my skin. It had been intense, more than I’d expected when I’d first walked in, my self-esteem shaky but my desire driving me forward.
I licked the cum off my fingers, the salty taste lingering on my tongue before I wrapped my hand around myself again, stroking slowly. I knew they were watching me through the cracked door, their eyes on me as I chased a quick second orgasm. This was unusual for me. In fact, the whole situation was unexpected. An utterly hot threesome at the sauna. A pair of sexy men who still couldn’t keep their eyes off me. An intense orgasm that left me seeing stars. But my cock still rock hard in my hand was the biggest surprise.
I stroked a little more quickly now, urging another release. My legs shook, the muscles straining as I pushed myself to the edge, the tingling building until it smacked against my balls. They rose up, my cock pulsing in my grip, and I fired one last shot that landed squarely between where they had just been standing. I grunted as the rest of the cum that was left oozed over my fingers, coating my hand before dribbling down onto the floor between my thighs. I slumped fully, arms trembling beneath me, the exhaustion settling in.
“You’re a mess,” I muttered to myself, a chuckle escaping as I leaned my head back against the wall.
Standing was a struggle, my legs still weak, but I managed to push off the wall and head for the door. I grabbed my towel from the floor, the fabric damp and warm, and wrapped it around my waist, the weight a reminder of the night’s events. The hallway was quieter now, the earlier buzz of the bathhouse fading as the night wore on. I passed a few stragglers, their eyes flicking to me with mild curiosity, but I kept my head down, my mind replaying the encounter. The steam room called to me again, a chance to relax and clear my head, but I decided against it. I needed air, a moment outside to process.
I made my way to the locker room, the clatter of metal echoing as I found my spot. I dressed slowly, pulling on my jeans, the denim rough against my sensitive skin, and slipped into my shirt, the cotton sticking slightly to my still-damp back. My shoes felt heavy as I laced them up, each movement a reminder of the physical toll. I grabbed my bag, slinging it over my shoulder, and headed for the exit.
The night air hit me as I stepped outside, cool and crisp against the heat of the bathhouse. The alley was quiet, the neon sign of the entrance flickering above me, casting a pink glow on the pavement. I took a deep breath, the scent of the city mixing with the lingering musk on my skin. My phone buzzed in my pocket, a notification from Grindr popped up, but I ignored it. Tonight had been enough – more than enough – and I wasn’t ready to dive back in yet.
I started walking, the city lights blurring as my mind wandered. The bearded one’s hazel eyes flashed in my memory, the tattooed guy’s grin lingered. Next time, I told myself, I’d be bolder. I’d catch their gaze early, hold it, and let them know I was in. The thought warmed me, a promise to myself as I headed home. Next time, I’d remember – maybe I’d find them for another private session.
If you enjoy this gay erotic fiction set in a gay bathhouse, try Bator At The Sauna.
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