Ali Baba Baths

Published on May 27, 2011

Gay

The Ali Baba Baths 4 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

While most of the members of the Ali Baba baths were sexually active and experienced, the atmosphere was relaxed and casual. In some ways, it was like an exclusive men's club made up of old friends. Rather than enjoying a hand of cards or reading the newspaper, we might fondle a friend's genitals, or help a man climax.

While sitting in the steam room it was perfectly acceptable to suck a friends cock as he talked with you. That might turn into a more intense episode, or might be simply friendly gesture. If he moved on, another friend might take his place. Other men in the room would carry on with their own conversations, barely noticing the sexual drama.

I do confess if you or your partner had a particularly loud and forceful orgasm, there might be polite applause. All this activity was public, but no one stuck his nose, or cock, where it wasn't wanted.

Following Gustav's advice, I sometimes made contact with men who climaxed and helped clean up any of the aftermath of the orgasm that might be drooling for his cock. When Gustav told me about this, I first thought he was joking. I soon found out that many men enjoyed some tenderness after a major climax. I also discovered that after even the most impressive orgasm, some men still have sperm reserves. Many men's organs will twitch and ooze more sperm. A surprising number of the men had full-scale ejaculations.

There were a number of men who were uneasy taking another man's load. They either didn't like it or simply couldn't do it. Omar understood. "Many men have limits," he said. "If you respect them, you may someday be able to expand their horizons.

Other men, such as Murad, were sperm pigs. They unabashedly loved the stuff. They craved it. I personally love pre cum, but was uneasy about sperm. Omar thought sperm, his seed, was the most personal gift a man could give you. This seemed to be an intellectual way to justify his craving for man seed.

As I became more familiar with the Baths, I began to come around to Omar's thinking. Certainly sharing one's most private parts with a friend was a most intimate act. I discovered that I loved and was more than willing to share my privates for mutual pleasure. The orgasm, of course, was the objective of that act, and necessarily, sperm was much involved. I made peace with semen. Soon I might say I more than made peace with semen. I discovered many men were pleased that some men appreciated their own special brew. I only liked the brew when I sucked it directly from the spewing cock, hot and steamy. I liked the twitching cock in my mouth.

The Ali Baba Bath members had ordinary lives similar to any other clubmen in New York except our lives were regularly punctuated by sexual passion and pleasure. I admit that exception is almost certainly most exceptional. That man sex was an ordinary part of our lives, made it easier for new men to adapt to our ways. Ordinary is the key word. No one made a big deal about sexual connections. It was a part of everyday life. No one was embarrassed by showing sexual interest; no one was shocked.

As far as I could tell, most men were brought up to believe intimacy, not to mention sex itself was sinful and evil. The quiet playful sexuality of the Ali Baba baths was obviously not sinful. It was too well accepted, too ordinary.

Omar called me aside one evening in December. "Walter, you have been a great addition to our happy band here," he said. "Both the members and I appreciate you. You are so friendly, available and willing."

"I love it here, but I have been afraid I may be too available," I replied.

Omar smiled. "From my point of view you can't be too available," he said. "You obviously enjoy it, as do your playmates. It is good for everyone. I have several friends I would like you to meet."

"They aren't members of the baths?"

"One or two are, but others are friends of friends," he replied.

"Of course I would like to meet them," I replied.

"No one at the baths could be correctly described as a prude, or is shy about sex," Omar said. "All of us have discovered the joy of man sex and are at peace with that knowledge. These guests are unable to be at peace, although they enjoy man sex as much as we do. The party would be correctly described as an orgy."

"An orgy?"

"I think you would agree that while sex at the bath is plentiful, it would not be described as an orgy? I think our sexual experiences can be most intense, but not an orgy," he continued. "These men feel more comfortable in wild sex party than in the more relaxed steam room. An orgy is just sex; we at the baths have affectionate sex."

"Why are they your guests?"

"They are good men in spite of their limitations. Several are most important men. They could be helpful in some delicate situations that we confront at the baths," he explained. "Several men are most attractive, and indeed, fine playmates. You would like them, but more importantly, they would love a young man such as yourself."

After more conversation, I agreed to attend. I found it hard to reject anything Omar proposed. I wasn't too enthusiastic, but I was willing. Omar told me the men were interested primarily in sex, so I should expect that. He fingered my asshole just in case I didn't understand.

The party was three days before Christmas and School was closed until after New Year's Day. It was in the afternoon at 1:30. The guests could get away from their jobs during the day. I saw several men I didn't know in the shower baths, but the party was in the pool. Murad decorated the pool with lights and greenery and looked quite festive. There were six men there with Omar. All were naked and partially aroused. I was the first guest from the bath, and the men looked non-platonically at me. I guessed what they wanted. I was uneasy, but later I discovered I wanted what they guessed.

Omar introduced me to them, but didn't give me their names. The three men from the shower joined us. I recognized the oldest of them, DeWitt Hamilton, the Police Commissioner. The two men with him were obviously policemen. DeWitt was a stocky, Bulldog like man. He was quite hairy and sported a compact set of balls. The man next to him was called Lefty. He looked like a boxer.

I recognized a second, tall, lanky man as Nigel Comstock, the son and heir of a well-known anti-vice campaigner. He was very pale and weak looking, but had an impressive white snake dangling between his legs. Several men from the baths entered just as I recognized Comstock. I had seen most of them around, but knew only Blackie. Comstock went to Blackie like iron filings to a magnet. I also noticed Lefty looked at the massive mason with longing.

When Blackie was naked, he was either fully or partially erect. Half-hard he was bigger than 80 percent of the men in the world. A minute later, everyone was erect.

I attracted Dewitt. "You're a good looking boy," he said as he sank to the floor to kiss my cock. He kissed it, but didn't suck. I felt his tongue flicking at my slit. I assumed he was hoping for precum. He was shivering in excitement. DeWitt was an unattractive man, but he was so nervous I held his head and patted it.

"That feels good," I said. "Can you take more of it?" apparently, he was waiting for an invitation. He swallowed my entire cock and began to suck with great vigor and considerable skill. "If you keep on doing that, you may end up with a mouthful of me cream," I added.

"If I take yours would you take mine?" he whispered.

I got down on my knees, was face to face with him, and fondled his cock. "I'd love to trade sperm with you," I said. I moved my hand to his balls and played with them. "Are you fully loaded?"

"Oh god, yes!" he whispered in reply. I got on the floor with him and he sucked me as I sucked him. His cock was thicker than it was long, and his ball juices were flowing like Niagara Falls. Somehow, as I sucked up the rich brew from his balls, he became less ugly and more masculine. Certainly, Mr. Gibson would never draw him in the company of one of his Gibson girls, but DeWitt was a strong, muscular man whose ugliness seemed to fade in comparison to his maleness. He was a gorilla of a man.

I knew he was a most politically powerful man, but that he was nervous and uneasy when we met I found attractive. I was quite sure he showed no trace of nervousness when confronting a malefactor or street thug.

We played for five or ten minutes when he flooded my mouth with his thick and steamy man seed. His orgasm induced my own and he greedily sucked up the cream spurting from my organ. He was not shy about that at all. After the main orgasm, he continued to suck to get any leftover semen from my balls. We pulled apart. "Could we get together again in an hour or so?" he asked. "I'd like to fuck you." I smiled at him and we parted.

Omar had been watching us with approval in his eyes. An older man came over to me; he was tall, slightly heavy set and distinguished looking. "You made DeWitt a happy man," he said in a notably deep voice. He put his arm around me. "He likes younger men, and has a hard time finding youth who are willing."

"He is a most masculine man," I said. "You are handsome. Is it easier for you to attract younger men?"

He smiled. "Indeed it is, almost too many," he said. "I am tempted, but the fear of scandal is too great for me to risk any casual dalliances. Omar's little parties are my only opportunity." He was in his sixties, but in good shape. He had an impressive, thick and long organ, well beyond half-staff. I stroked it.

"It is a beauty," I said.

"Can you take it?" he asked, `Some think it's oversized."

"I am sure it's oversized, but I am quite sure I can take it," I replied. Omar was next to us with a container of lubricant. He offered it to me. I coated the man's cock. The slippery coolness of the lubricant soon had him rock hard. There was a bench with pillows on it nearby. I got on the bench. He hoisted my legs on his shoulders, and nuzzled his cock head in my hole.

The man was gentle getting into my hole, but a crazed madman once he was in me. He pounded me like a battering ram, or steam engine going at full speed. I assumed he wouldn't last long. He pulled out suddenly, and another man exclaimed, "I'll fill in for you Bishop!" and took his place. He too was a wild one. Eventually, a third man joined the rotation.

This wasn't particularly enjoyable for me and I was getting uncomfortable. Only Omar and his container of lubricant made it acceptable. Fortunately, one of the men climaxed, and a short time later, the second man shot his load. I was now alone with the original man they called the Bishop.

He had calmed down and was taking his time. With two men's loads in my ass, I was more heavily lubricated and my ass seemed more tightly bonded to his cock. My sphincter seemed to caress his cock. As my sphincter grabbed his cock, he began to moan.

I had turned the tables on him. He had been fucking me, but now I had captured his cock for my own pleasure. Of course, he could have pulled out at any time, but from his moans, I guessed he wouldn't pull out until after he climaxed.

By now, I was having a good time. The Bishop suddenly began to cry as the juices in his balls struggled for release. I tightened my ass as much as possible, trying to trap his cock in my ass. That was a hopeless task. I had hoped to keep him for climaxing, by damming his juices in his balls. Of course, they broke through, but I could feel each ejaculatory spurt.

When he finally climaxed, Blackie and Nigel were at my side. Nigel possessed a long thin cock and he filled the void left by the bishop. The bishop was thick and had stretched my ass wide. Blackie told me later my ass was still gaping open when Nigel entered. It took a little while for my ass to close up around the new cock, so Nigel went deep without any problem. When I closed up, I realized he was deeper than anyone had been before.

A large mushroom crowned Nigel's cock. I could feel it exploring my ass, but I could barely feel the slender shaft. It was almost as if a sex-crazed mouse was frolicking in my ass. Nigel was a rather sour looking man, but he was quite playful. I got the strong feeling that his mushroom shaped cock head became more sensitive as he played. Of course, three men had already dumped their loads in me and my ass was smooth and slippery. Bu now, I had closed up completely so every inch of his cock was in contact with my rectum's linings.

DeWitt joined us for a little while and relieved Nigel for a few minutes. His stubby, thick cock slid into my sperm lubricated ass easily. He enjoyed it, but didn't last long. He had another orgasm. Nigel re entered me immediately, plowing DeWitt's hot and steamy sperm deeper into my ass. Nigel got more excited. He had a spectacular orgasm.

Afterwards I discussed Nigel with Omar and Blackie. I wondered why Nigel had responded so enthusiastically to fucking me with DeWitt's sperm in my ass. Omar said he suspected Nigel was attracted to DeWitt, but had no physical contact with the Police Commissioner. Blackie agreed. "Nigel isn't the sort of man that Dewitt likes, so his seed in your ass may be as close as he gets."

By now, the event had been going on for several hours and some men had to leave. This included the Bishop and DeWitt. Dewitt's two associates stayed. Lefty, the man who looked like a boxer and the other man named, Robby were different men after their boss left. Lefty seemed dour and somber, but became a cheerful and friendly man. Robby was smiling Irishman. They knew their boss, DeWitt, shared the same sexual interests, and had watched him having sex, but they couldn't relax until he was gone. A tall, red haired man named Stanford had been hanging around off to the side, but joined in the festivities when the other men left.

Stanford came over to me. "You have had quite the workout," he commented. "It looked a bit rough a few times. How are you doing?" As you would expect of a redhead, his skin was all peaches and cream with pink tits and a lavender cock head peaking out of his foreskin being the only color.

"All's well that ends well," I said. "Several men weren't particularly graceful, but it was fine."

"You aren't sore?" he asked. I shook my head. Stanford possessed impressive balls, but his cock was partially hidden in his copper colored bush and looked average. He leaned close to me and put his arm around my shoulders.

"I confess I am here out of curiosity more than desire," he whispered. "I am driven towards sex, but with young women. A friend thought that experimenting with sex with males might excite me. Thus I am here as an observer. I have a question. Did you or your partners enjoy it most? I noticed you didn't climax."

"I think we both did, eventually," I replied. "Were you offended at the display?" I didn't like the idea of a man just watching me.

"I didn't mean to offend you," he said. "At first I thought it was almost mechanical. It seemed to me your partners were just repeating an action to force an orgasm. Later it turned into a more attractive sexual exploration. Would you be offended if I said you are clearly skilled in the sexual arts? For some reason I think you inspired unexpected responses in your playmates." Since Stanford was naked, I watched his cock enlarge as he discussed sex. I had miss judged his cock. It grew to be an impressive organ.

"You seem to be a good judge of matters sexual," I said. "I had much the same opinion."

"Would you object to having one more cock in your ass?" he asked. "I've never been in a man's ass before. I will take my time."

"It may be messy. Four men have climaxed in me," I said.

Stanford smiled. "I was in an orgy in France with one woman and six men," he said. "I was the last one to enter her, and it was indeed messy, but the feelings were quite lovely. She was wild and very feminine, but filled with man seed. It was oddly exciting. My cock became ultra sensitive, I seemed to feel the excitement of the other men's orgasms" He went to a bench and lay down; I straddled him and sat on his lavender tipped organ.

Stanford was an unusual man. He was very polite and courteous in all things. Sexually he was an open book. He was responsive and appreciative and made no effort to hide his enjoyment. Stanford may have been uneasy at the first penetration, but he got quite enthusiastic and downright playful. Once he was in me the wanted to experiment and see what configurations or positions were most pleasurable. He was concerned about my feelings too and wanted to insure I was enjoying it too.

Once Stanford was sexually engaged, he lost all reserve. He obviously loved sex and was willing to do or try it all. His enthusiasm was contagious and Omar, Lefty, Robbie and Blackie became involved. Stanford's search for the best sexual position intrigued the other men. They traded stories and gave advice. I was afraid I was the only one in the group willing to bottom. Since the men's advice sometimes involved a demonstration I was a little worried I would get over used.

Stanford solved that problem. When I said he lost all reserve, I meant it. He was willing to share his cock, his sperm and his ass with the group. He was a leader of men and even Lefty and Robbie were willing to open their asses for their newfound playmates.

Stanford let Robbie into his ass and seemed to enjoy it. You can never guess or anticipate how a person will react to another person sexually. Later, Stanford eased his lavender knob into Lefty's ass and it was magic. Lefty loved it. The Policeman all but melted in ecstatic pleasure.

As Lefty moaned in pleasure, Omar took Lefty's cock into his mouth and milked the man juices generated by Stanford's pounding. Fortunately, Stanford was generous sexually. He returned to Lefty several times over the next hour or two. Each time, Lefty responded the same way.

Stanford also returned to me, and sucked me in a quite convincing way. He seemed to like my cock and when I climaxed he had no problem taking my seed. He told me he had never soen that before.

"If I had known, I could have given you warning," I said.

Stanford smiled. "It wasn't a problem," he replied. "It tastes just like my own. Would you like to try mine?" I, of course, agreed.

Next: Chapter 5


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