I wrote this story while I was horny and waiting for a delayed flight to visit a friend. If anyone reading this knows something similar, or has the means to make it happen, you have my full support.
I’ve never been to a speakeasy. You know, the secret bars behind the fake wall, that you need to access with a password. While there’s no real reason for their secrecy these days, not like in the prohibition era, I know they’ve become popular again for the idea of exclusivity that they provide. I know a lot of friends who have been and they say they’re cool.
Similarly, I’ve never been in an airport lounge. Like the business class or first class lounges. Big comfy chairs, food and drink, a shower if you need it. Luxury. Again, I’ve got friends who have been lucky enough to go. But again, I’ve never been.
My recent experience is something along those lines or between those lines, but unfortunately I can’t share it with most of my friends.
This occurred when I had an 6-hour layover in a major international airport. I’ve been sworn to secrecy as to which one it is. I’ve somehow ended up as a member of an exclusive international club, membership of which is very secretive and if I spill the beans I’m in serious trouble.
I’ve been chatting to a guy on Twitter, or X if you wanna call it that, for a few months. One of the more engaged followers of my pro-bator profile. This guy was following as much for the message as for the jerk off vids I regularly posted. We’ll call him Brent for the sake of secrecy. We’d messaged back and forth a few times about our bating but he had seemed really interested in my upcoming travels.
I had put up a post about travelling and how I had a long layover and was hoping I could find a place that had enough privacy for me to do a little writing, watch a little porn and then maybe find a bathroom quiet enough for a cruise or at least a wank in the bathroom stall.
Brent seemed to know the airport well and gave me a couple of tips of places to hang out and what to keep my eyes open for.
So once I landed I headed to the furthest end of Terminal 3 and found a reasonably comfortable chair to sit in. I opened my laptop and started to browse. A bit of X, a bit of Discord and a bit of catching up on chats with some of my online Bator friends. After a few hours of sitting confined and crowded on a plane, it didn’t take long for my loins to start to warm up.
I’d just started to move from twitchy into semi territory when a message popped up from Brent.
Bro. Are you there yet? He asked.
Just started my layover. Only 5 hours to go. I replied.
That’s what I meant. You’re in the airport right?
I agreed.
Great. Hang out down the end of Terminal 3. I got a surprise for you.
This was totally unexpected. I thought for a moment he might be there. Somehow he’d arranged to be in the airport at the same time as me and was planning a meet up. A rather odd place for a meet up and pretty unexpected, we hadn’t talked about getting together in real life. It also would have cost him a fortune, just to meet up in an airport where we couldn’t really have a proper bate session anyway.
Then I started to feel a bit of pride. My following and my Bator influencer status could be getting to the point where I had genuine fans who wanted to follow me and meet me. Was I ready for that?
As thoughts of Bator stardom ran through my head a man in a black suit sat opposite me. He was tall, slim and fairly good looking, but had a customer service air about him. Then I spotted the name badge. His name was Joel and the logo appeared to two hands interlocking, similar to a handshake.
“Good evening sir. Have you been sent here by Brent?” He asked with a vaguely international accent.
“Uh. Yes I have.”
He responded with my X handle and Brent’s X handle to confirm this. I was more than a little confused but at the same time a little turned on. I wondered what Brent was up to in arranging for this guy to meet me here.
“Brent has arranged for you to receive a guest pass to our exclusive lounge.” Joel continued. “It is highly exclusive, open by invitation only and usually requires a substantial financial commitment. However, Brent is one of our Platinum Members and has invited you to partake in a pass to use our facilities.”
The confusion must have been clear on my face as Joel smiled politely, slid a card across the table and stood up. “Everything you need to know can be found by scanning the code, bring the card to our reception once you find it and we will be more than happy to accommodate you.”
Joel left the card in the middle of the table and walked away. I looked around, just in case this was some sort of prank, although how it would be I didn’t know.
I pulled out my phone and scanned the card. The first question was whether I was over 18 years of age. Interesting. Then it asked me for the X handle of my host. I put Brent’s in and the main page opened up.
The two-handed logo that was on Joel’s name badge was at the top of the page. Beneath it were the words International Bators Lounge above a series of provocative pictures of men that were just sexy enough so that you knew what they were doing but not too sexy that someone glancing at your screen would know you were looking at porn.
I read down the page. Apparently with the recent failure of a major international airline, a lot of business and first class lounges in big airports were empty. One of the investors in that failed airline had seen an opportunity and IBL was born. Now, by exclusive and selective entry, bators around the world had access to a place to relax, unwind and jerk off on layovers or while waiting for their flight.
Holy shit. I thought. Now the privileges of the rich were moving through the Bator community.
I quickly got over my fuck the 1% thought as my dick responded to the idea of sitting and relaxing with my cock in my hand. Ordinarily I would sit around mentally edging for a while, I’d scroll twitter or send a few dirty messages back and forth until I was so worked up that I’d find a bathroom in a quieter area of the airport and spend 15 minutes in a stall. I rarely cruised airports, even though I knew others did, but I would often find a place to enjoy myself and release my load before boarding. Nothing worse than sitting next to a stranger on a flight having to work to keep my bulge from showing.
I clicked through to the location tab on the website for the IBL and found a list of airports. A long list. This guy clearly had plenty of money if he had managed to put a lounge in so many places. I clicked on the airport I was in and the page showed some details. Terminal 3. Upstairs from gate 45. I looked around. I was in terminal 3 and sitting opposite gate 35. It wasn’t far away.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and started walking. I moved quickly. I still had over 4 hours until my flight but if I could, I wanted to spend as much of that time bating as possible.
Opposite gate 45 there was an escalator. The airport was busy and people were continually walking past, but in the couple of minutes I took to survey the location, only one guy rode it to the top. As I walked up I saw a stand with the two-handed logo and the word Lounge beneath it. No more information. This was definitely an ‘if you know you know’ situation. I pulled the card from my pocket, ready to present it wherever I needed and stepped onto the escalator.
At the top of the escalator was a small desk, behind that desk was a young man. Not surprisingly he was dressed the same as Joel who had brought me the card. But he also looked very similar. I wondered whether that was a coincidence or if this lounge had a particular look in mind as part of their hiring policy. He smiled as I approached.
“Good afternoon sir. Do you have your card?” The assumption that I wouldn’t have approached this bench without a card added to the idea that this was very much an invite-only space. They didn’t seem to expect members of the public to show up to this little desk.
I handed over my card and he flipped it over in his hands. He punched a few keys on his keyboard, seeming to have found a number on the card that I hadn’t previously noticed. He looked up from his screen and smiled again.
“Welcome Mr Williams,” he said. “One of our founding members has granted you a pass for today as his guest. Enjoy the facilities.”
He handed me another small card and a rubber wristband. “If you scan the code on this card you will get the information on the facilities available inside as well as information on joining the club if you are interested in the future. The wristband will grant you access through the facilities and add any charges to your bill, which, don’t worry, is being covered by your host today.”
“Thank you.” I tried to hide the sudden nervousness I was feeling. I had been to a bate lounge before. A few in different cities around the world. But this one seemed different. I’d never been greeted by a man in a suit before. I’d never had my visit paid for by a fan before. I slipped the band around my wrist and scanned the code on the card as I walked past the desk and through the door.
A short hallway led to a locker room. The website loaded and the first instruction was how to choose and operate a locker. I sat on the bench as I read. As expected. Strip as much as you want. Leave your stuff in a locker and grab a towel. I did that, leaving my briefs on and choosing the smaller of the two towels. I draped that over my shoudler as I read the rest of the instructions.
I was glad to read that there were a number of rules in place. Similar to other bate clubs it was a hands only establishment. They stressed the need for consent also. The information also included a map of the rooms in there. A separate room for gay and straight porn was a new one for me and I was pleased to see that this club catered for the increasing number of straight bators that I had noticed in my online escapades.
As I read the instructions, rules and locations my dick began to swell in my briefs. I thought for a moment about removing them but decided to keep them on and tease myself a little bit. I liked the feeling of my hard cock pushing against the fabric. It signalled the start of the build-up but also held me back. I checked my watch. I had two hours until boarding. Enough time to enjoy this and still grab a drink in the bar before my flight.
I stood from the bench, aware that my bulge was protruding. Unfortunately, there was no one in the locker room, no one to see it yet. I slid my phone and my clothes into the locker and used my wristband to lock it. I took a deep breath and stepped towards the door. My wristband unlocked the latch and I walked through.
I noticed how dim the lighting was as soon as I entered. It was dim enough to create a vibe but not too dark so as to make the vibe too sleazy. There was light music playing in the hallway and I felt the soft carpet under my feet. Mixed in with the music I could hear the faint sounds of the porn playing in the different rooms. I looked to my left and noticed the entrance to the bar. I could hear faint voices from there and, although my plan had been to have a couple of drinks at the airport, the swelling in my briefs required my attention first. I peeked into the opening on my right and saw the glory hole setup. Four open booths on this side and another entrance to the ‘anonymous’ other side just up the hall. Two of the booths were occupied and I could see the bare asses of the guys who had their cocks stuck through the wall. I also heard the soft moaning that was the result of the pleasure being provided to them. I wondered if that was a space where the hands-only rule might slip slightly. Hot. But not my thing.
Stepping back into the main corridor, I remembered the map had the porn theatres located at the end of the hall. That seemed like as good a place as any to start. I looked in that direction and saw two doors, presumably one for gay porn and one for straight, as the information mentioned.
I started down the hall, walking slowly and occasionally sliding a finger across my hardness in my briefs. The hall leading to the theatres was lined with several doors that were close together. I assumed these were for those wanting to enjoy a more private session. The first couple of doors were closed and next to the handle was the little engaged sign, like you’d see on a toilet cubicle door. From behind them, I heard the familiar sounds of some erotic material as well as the occasional moan of pleasure from the man inside. Those moans of pleasure spurred my arousal and my dick remained rigid beneath my teasing fingers.
The next two doors were open and I peeked into one of the booths. Inside was a single comfy chair, a flat-screen TV and a wall-mounted dispenser, presumably filled with lube. The screen was divided into four sections, each showing a different type of porn. A menu for the occupant to choose from for their session. The classiness of the venue was reflected in their porn choices and I slid my hand into my underwear as my eyes roamed the four different scenes, each as hot as the other. I slowly slid my hand along my length, slightly increasing the teasing level. My dick responded and I felt my wet tip with my thumb as I moved up. I knew that the wet patch would be obvious to anyone who saw me at this point.
Through the next open door, I noticed the feet of an occupant inside. I could hear the slick sounds of his cock being worked as I approached the doorway. With one more step, he came fully into view. The man sat with the chair turned slightly towards the door, an all-twink orgy was playing on the screen. He appeared to be a similar age to myself, with a short, solid body and a matching uncut cock in his hand. The position of the chair, and the fact that he didn’t turn to greet me despite my obvious presence, meant that this guy wanted to be watched, not interacted with.
I stood leaning against the doorway and watched as he stroked his cock. He picked up the pace and a grunt of pleasure escaped his lips. The muscles in his arm tensed as he stroked and I watched his slick skin slide over his swollen head. The size and colour of that head was an indication that he had been here for a while, slowly stroking and enjoying himself, seeking an audience.
My hand remained in my briefs as I watched, but the pace of my stroking was slow and deliberate. I wanted to make the most of this time and this experience. I felt the familiar tingling in my balls that I knew was the beginning of an edge. I wasn’t surprised that I was there already. I was intensely aroused by the idea that outside this space there were thousands of people, moving through the airport, unaware that a bunch of guys were stroking themselves to intense orgasms while they rushed onto crowded aircraft.
My attention was taken from the man in the booth as I heard footsteps behind me. A young lean man walked down the hall from the entrance. He was completely nude, his smooth body totally on show and his hard dick sticking out from his body. He seemed to be completely hairless but as he approached I noticed the light blonde fuzz that covered his arms and legs. Though the area around his rigid 7-inch cut cock was freshly shaved. This guy had either prepared for this trip or this venue. I couldn’t hide my appreciation and I got the feeling he was happy to be appreciated. He walked past me, heading directly towards the theatre doors. As he passed my eyes followed. His ass moved as he walked and for a moment I was disappointed that I was a bator in a bate-only venue.
He looked over his shoulder back at me and I shifted my feet to follow.
“Wait.” A hoarse whisper came from the guy in the booth.
I turned back towards the bator who was now furiously tugging on his dick. His legs were stretched straight out in front of him and his breathing was deep and heavy. He grunted as I watched and his body tensed even further.
“Fuuuuck.” A long drawn-out sigh and a noticeable shiver ran over his body before his legs went rigid and his cock throbbed.
The first shot fired hard and high, landing on his shoulder. The next fired directly onto his sternum. With each shot, a loud grunt escaped him and through it all he beat his dick intensely. His cock throbbed and shot and in moments his belly and hand were coated in his load. Another shudder passed over him as I watched the last of his cum flow from his slit. Then his head flopped back over the couch and he whispered his thanks before he reached back and pushed the door closed.
My briefs now almost soaked in precum I turned from the door and walked towards the theatre. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice which of the doors the young slender man had walked into and as I approached I realised there was no clear indication as to which door would present which form of content.
I stepped up to the door on the right and opened it. I could tell right away from the sounds that came from the room that I had chosen incorrectly. Out of curiosity, I peeked in anyway. While the action on the screen in that room was nothing that interested me, I was pleased to see a couple of guys on couches enjoying themselves. They weren’t engaging with each other, but I was glad that the space was available to them.
I closed the door and turned back to the door on the left. I opened it and stepped straight in. My eyes were immediately drawn to a large screen along the back wall. It was the biggest TV I had ever seen and it was full of men. Naked, sweaty men fucking on a beachside balcony.
My already hard dick twitched at the sight of it and it took me a moment to notice the occupants of the leather couches in the room. At the front of the room, two men sat with their arms around each other’s shoulders. I couldn’t see from my position but I took a well-educated guess about where their other arm was located. Those guys hadn’t noticed my arrival, such was their enjoyment of each other. In the back corner, a guy was on his knees between two men who stood. The kneeling man had a hard dick in each hand and smiled in pleasure while the standing men watched him work.
The two other men in the room had noticed my entrance. Each of them was seated on their own and I felt their eyes wander up and down my body. One was the young guy I had noticed in the hall, stroking his long, cut dick between his fingers. He looked my way and, contrary to what I had thought in the hall, his appraisal of me had clearly left him disappointed and he quickly turned not only his face but his body as well. The other was a slightly older guy, with a similar build to mine and a thick but short uncut dick in his hand. His appraisal lasted a little longer. I smiled politely and he smiled in return before locking his eyes on my cock.
I stepped further into the room and stood against the wall, slowly sliding my hand inside my briefs. His eyes followed me and I felt the appreciation of his gaze. I stepped into the row where this man sat. I took my position on the couch next to him and his hand immediately moved onto the leaking bulge in my briefs. His hand remained on his own cock though, indicating that he was happy to stroke me without expectation of reciprocation.
My cock was throbbing now with the build-up of so much arousal around me and as much as I wanted to ride this edge, I knew I wasn’t going to last. I slid my fingers into my waistband and opened my briefs. The man’s hand moved quickly and his fingers wrapped around my cock and began to stroke. I lifted my hips slightly, allowing my briefs to slide down my legs. He moaned in response, taking in my six thick inches and immediately spreading my built-up precum around my head, slicking it up before beginning to stroke with purpose.
My balls rose instantly. I dropped my head back onto the couch and breathed deeply, sinking into the pleasure that this man’s experienced hand was providing me. For a few moments, I just sat and enjoyed the sensations of his fingers working my shaft and my slick head. He knew what he was doing, switching between working my length, sliding a finger around my ridge and running his thumb over that sensitive spot just beneath my head.
The volume of the action on the screen picked up and I realised the video was likely getting towards the money shots. I opened my eyes just as one of the tops withdrew his cock from a bent-over bottom and fired a thick load over his back. My dick twitched in the stranger’s hand and he quickened his pace in response, sensing that I was close.
The camera switched on the screen and a bottom bounced on a thick cock on a banana lounge. He stroked furiously and with a loud grunt, painted the chest of his appreciative top.
“Fuck yeah,” I muttered, my balls beginning to rise.
The top in the video, his chest hair now matted with his bottom’s cum, didn’t slow his pace. The man working my dick didn’t slow either. The top held his bottom’s hips in place as he hammered his cock into him. My legs tensed as my cock was worked with equal speed and intent. Somehow this man knew that that top was the one I wanted to cum with.
My dick pulsed and my balls rose. I felt another hand slide across my thigh and tug at my balls. I was right on the edge, breathing heavy and loud, without a care that anyone in the room knew I was about to blow. I could hear the other moans of the men working their dicks in the room. They all faded into the background as pleasure overtook me.
The top on the screen dug his fingers into the bottom’s hips and buried his cock deep. He let out a loud, animal groan and I knew he was firing his load deep inside this guy. The camera switched again and I watched the guy’s taint throb as he unloaded. That was the shot that sent me over the edge and a loud grunt accompanied the first shot of cum that fired from my cock. My thick load pulsed from my dick as my body shook. I moaned and cursed as my load spewed forth, coating the fingers of the man who had worked me to an intense climax.
The last of my seed sent a shudder through my body and I dropped my head back again, panting as I felt fingers squeeze the last drops of cum out of me.
“Fuck,” the man said next to me. “What a load.”
“Thanks.” I muttered. “I needed that.”
I lifted my head and realised that two other men stood at the end of the row and had watched me shoot. I smiled before grabbing my towel and wiping myself down.
Now it was time for that drink.
I hope you enjoyed this gay bator story. If you did try out Bator At The Sauna.
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