Confidence at the bath house

By eric patrick

Published on Jun 16, 2015

Gay

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This is my third story to nifty. I enjoy writing these stories, and if you have happened to have read my other submissions, you'll know I write about true events. Not only have I been lucky enough to actually live these encounters, but we are ALL lucky to have a forum like Nifty to share these stories on. Please donate, and again, safe sex and cautionary statements about gay sex in certain jurisdictions...

My name is Eric, and right now my heart felt as if it was going to leap through my throat. I was full of jittery anticipation and nervousness as I paid for my parking spot in Seattle's Capitol Hill area. It was a gorgeous spring day, nearly summer and the temperatures proved it. University of Washington students lounged in outdoor tables and chairs at coffee shops and bistros, the girls wearing sexy sundresses that showed off tattoos and beautiful curves.

I slapped the pay sticker on my window and started walking downhill to my destination: my first trip to the Gay Bathhouse, Steam works. I had never been there before, and my anxiety made me feel like every pair of eyes anywhere near me looked at me, and judged me, somehow instantly knowing that I was going to a notorious cavern of anonymous gay sex.

As I walked, I knew I shouldn't be nervous of the imagined stares. I always owned my personality. With confidence, I straightened my button up shirt and walked proudly. If these afternoon-coffee connoisseurs even knew I was going to the bath house, even straight, they would be jealous that I'm about to live out a sexual fantasy. I walked past the discreet door to the building and circled the block, again out of anxiety and to make sure this is really what I wanted...needed. I walked in and found the little lobby dark with black painted walls. The man took my ID and my money, and gave me a key for the lockers upstairs. He smiled and bobbed his head to the right, signaling the door I take to go upstairs. I grinned a thank you, and my nervousness must have been obvious, the man smiled back and said, "Relax, you're going to love it!"

I walked up the stairs, still surrounded in darkness and berated by techno music. Rounding the corner, I still hadn't seen anybody, and so I found my locker and changed, slipping into their undersized towels and my own sandals. My cock was hard now in the anticipation of living out my fantasy. Slamming my locker shut, it was time to show off. Confidence is sexy, I thought, and being in a place like this, where literally every guy here is here specifically to engage in an act of gay sex, I have nothing to lose! My athletic wrestlers build with tattoos was something to be proud of, and my hard cock poking against my short towel would be the invitation. I looked around, and started wandering the hallways. They were lined with doors to the private booths and rooms, which I had declined; any fucking I was going to do today, would be in public so everybody could see me.

Behind a few of the doors I could hear moaning and slapping sounds, and behind others, slurping sounds and grunts. This was so hot, my mind was reeling! I leaned against a corner and stared at the tv set up high on the wall, two young twinks in a 69. I absent mindedly started stroking my cock, surprising myself with how comfortable I already was with such a vulgar display in a relatively open place. I stroked my cock for a few minutes and then continued my exploration of the bathhouse. I finally rounded a corner into a corner room with a line of couches against a wall. On the opposite wall was a giant screen showing a gay orgy on film. The couches held four or five men, all involved in their own pleasures, towels open, legs spread wide and playing with their hard cocks.

I had never seen so many hard cocks in a single place, and my mouth instinctively watered at the prospect. This is exactly what I was looking for, and I sat down on one of the empty seats and quickly threw open my own towel and played with mine too. At 8 inches and shaven smooth, it was on the large side compared to the others in the room. I started slowly, playing with the drop of clear precum that had crowned the top of my dick. I started a rhythm, and slowly up and down I spread the cum up and down my shaft. My other hand started strumming up and down my abs and my chest, pausing to pinch my nipples. I stared intently at the screen we were all watching, but really all my attention was on myself. I was aiming to put on a better show than what was on the wall. I continued to stroke and started to spread my legs and run my hand more fervently from my nipples, now dipping to my asshole. It was all a show.

I wanted these strangers, these men who didn't know me to see me, to watch me and to want me. I wanted them to start jerking their cocks to the scene that I gave them. This is exactly what I was after. To be watched, to be desired, to be held as an object. I didn't know any of these men, and they didn't know the first thing about me. They didn't need to know how successful I am in the real world, or what my profession is. All they needed to give me was their physical adoration, their appreciation of being a piece of meat for their obscene entertainment. I had always seen the women in porn, and I loved what they do. As a matter of fact, I'm decidedly bisexual. I could never date a man, but I'm absolutely addicted to getting men off. I love the feel of cock. I love the warm saltiness of cum in my mouth, and the hard muscular thrusting into my ass. And with that in mind, the porn starlets online were perfect. They have amazing bodies, tight wet pussies, willing mouths and asses. Gorgeous. And, they got to be the object of desire for countless men. Unending cocks were stroked to cumming watching these girls be dirty sluts. And that's exactly what I needed to be.

As I sat with the other men on the couches, I felt eyes turn to me. I was moaning softly as I played with my body. I looked around as subtly as I could, and saw that indeed, three men were staring right at me and not the screen. Eventually, I stood up and leaned against the door frame, still able to watch the screen but now standing over and facing the other voyeurs. I sunk my shoulders back against the frame and posted my hips out, highlighting my abs and my hip flexors, showing off my "V" shape and slowly starting thrusting my cock through my fist. This was a good position I thought, and let my head fall back to enjoy the pleasure on my cock, and the pleasure of their eyes on me.

After a moment though, I felt a hot wet mouth engulf my cock. I was startled and looked down in surprise. Kneeling before me was a college age kid, looking up at me with big light blue eyes. He was pale, with blond hair. I didn't move, but was staring in surprise at the kid. He was looking straight up into my own blue eyes and slowly smiled around my cock. I grunted a little as his tongue slithered around my head. I slowly nodded, realizing the opportunity this blond twink had given me. I nodded meekly at first, then with confidence. And finally, I grunted out, loud enough for every cock-stroker in the room to hear,

"Suck my big cock, bitch!"

This was the time to put on a really good show...

Blondie started to bob up and down on my cock, kneeling with his hands tucked almost politely seeming on his knees. I stood up with my legs spread wide, my hands behind my hips to push them farther forward. After a few minutes of his eager and polite blowjob, I put my hands behind my head, showing off more of my body. Minutes later, blondie finally came off my cock. The whole time he had had his eyes closed and his mouth had maintained that wet seal on my flesh. When he finally came off for air, he was looking up at me with those big eyes, strands of his spit draped from his mouth to my shiny wet cock. He gasped a few breaths, "Is that good, Daddy?"

I had never been called that before. Honestly, I had usually been the one to ask that very question to my hung dominant partners that I was humiliating myself to please, so that when I did ask tht question, `is that good, Daddy', I'd get an answer "Yes, boy," or "yes, slut". Now though, it was him asking me, and I was the muscular, powerful, sexually dominant "daddy". His question and being called "Daddy" was an invitation.

"Almost, little boy" I grunted, again loud enough for our audience, which now included a few naked men watching in the hallway. I grabbed my cocksuckers head with both hands and tilted it up to look straight at me. I bended over and got close to him licked at his open mouth. He stared at me with his wide open eyes and he stuck out his tongue. Holding his head in place, I spat into his mouth, adding to the wetness already from having sucked cock already. I took hold of his throat and gripped his hair tighter, and with a thrust of my hips, my cock slid into his wide open waiting mouth. I left it in him for a few seconds, feeling the heat and the spit, looking at his pale blue eyes slowly start to water as they stared up at his daddy. By his hair, I pulled him off of me and after a quick swallow, blondie stuck his tongue back out for me. I was getting into this: "Say thank you, you little cock sucking slut!"

My slut kept his mouth gaped open, but I saw his eyes squint in a smile, and again I shoved my cock into his mouth, farther this time and harder, with more of that masculine dominance that I had always craved. The boy was a tryer, and even though his eyes were watering he kept staring right up at me. After a few extra seconds, his hands found their way to my waist, and held onto my hip bones. I could feel his petite fingernails against my hard flesh. I yanked him back off my cock again, and this time he gasped for breath and without missing a beat, he gasped out

"Thank you! Thank you sir!"

Him and I played this game for a while, I'd facefuck him and pull him off, more and more spit and saliva and pre-cum connecting his face with my big cock. Dominating him, owning his throat and his face and being the object of his adoration and his desires. I loved it. I loved being the single thing in his world. Nothing else mattered to him except his master, and right now, that was me, or maybe more appropriately it was my 8 inch, pre-cum leaking cock. I know exactly what he was thinking, the physical sensations and the emotional because I had been there in his place so many times before. This time though, I chose to be the master. I was going to be a good daddy to this little slut, and I had an amazing opportunity to do to him what he probably doesn't get often.

I pulled him off my cock one more time, and I bent down again, spitting into his sloppy tear and spit covered face. With a fistful of his hair I spat on him again and twisted his hair to turn him around. Around him was an audience of nearly a dozen men. They were all different ages, races, sizes. Twinks, bears, jocks, everybody. My slut and I weren't the only ones playing, but we were the center of attention. Everybody was watching this sloppy little bitch get dominated by a complete stranger.

"They're all watching you, you fucking slut! Look at them, they're stroking their big cocks watching you suck my big cock and make you my little bitch!" I was growling at him and he started nodding his head, understanding that what I was saying was absolutely true. "Are you my little bitch, boy?" I asked. He gasped out "Fuck, yes I am, I'm your little bitch!" I kept playing games with him like that, the back and forth dialogue to constantly defied who is who in this relationship, to completely own him physically, but facefucking him, and mentally by making him admit and say willingly that he is my little cock sucking slut. I did to him all the things that I have fantasied about and what I would want when its my turn to be on my knees as an object to use.

All of this stimulation was taking a toll on my cock. The boy in front of me, the men surrounding both of us and getting off to us, and my sudden and absolute dominance of the situation. His mouth was well used by now, and it was more a matter of me fucking his face than him having a choice and an opportunity to suck my cock. I was starting to get close, and it was time for the finale to my show.

"I'm going to cum, slut, beg me for it!" I howled out, louder than ever before. Blondie pulled off my cock and started begging, "shoot for me, I want you cum!" My balls tightened as he moaned and while he was still begging I shoved my cock in his mouth for a few last thrusts. Every muscle in my body tensed and flexed as my cock completely erupted in cum. I've always shot huge loads, and as soon as I felt the first ropes of my thick white cum shoot, I pulled out and started cumming all over his face. Blondie closed his eyes just as rope after rope of me spilled out and covered him. His tears, all of his slobber and spit, all of my slobber and spit on him, all of it was already coating his face, and now nearly a dozen thick ropes of cum covered him from his hair to his chin. I grunted and clenched my teeth through my orgasm, and as soon as I finished cumming I thrust my cock through his lips one last time, and buried my cock balls deep in his throat. I held it there, feeling the warm cum against the base of my cock. As soon as the slut gagged, I through him off my cock, and pulled him by his hair into a sitting on his ass on the filthy cum stained floor in front of me. He was catching his breath, his eyes closed and caked over with my cum.

It was my last moment as his daddy. If he was anything like me, the daddy figure would be replaced in a matter of minutes. "Say thank you boy!" I said loudly and authoritatively, so all the studs in the room and the dark hallway could here.

Still catching his breath, I heard a meek "Thank you!"

"Louder, slut!"

He found his voice, and his soft words called out louder this time "Thank you sir!"

"Thank you for what, you little slut!"

Finally, blondie opened a single eye and looked at me, a smile on his sloppy lips "Thank you for fucking my face and cumming all over me, Daddy!"

I smirked, and ended the show: "Good, boy, good boy."

I grabbed my towel and ambled down the hallway. Already my cock was chubby again, still turned on by the entire idea and the show I had just given so many strange men. At the corner to the lockers, I stopped and looked back at the crowd gathered around the boy who had just been my personal fuck toy. Already, I could see the telltale bobbing motion down low behind some thighs. That blondie really was a fucking slut, I thought. Already the men in that group were using and abusing his face and throat just like I had.

A few minutes later I felt refreshed and showered, squeaky clean. I exited the bath house and stepped into the late evening twilight of Capitol Hill. Only paces from the door was a nice bistro, and throwing my gym bag down at an outside table, I ordered a coffee and a snack. I'm confident the other customers had seen me leave the thick wooden door plastered over with ads for "DILF Night" and other overtly gay events. But, as I sat there and enjoyed my drink, I had a big smile on my face and couldn't care less if the other customers knew. They could come right up and ask if I had just left, and with a grin, and a confidence voice, I would respond, "hell yes, I did".

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