Traveling around the world for my work, spending endless nights in hotels, from the absolutely beautiful and impressive to low-end shit holes, I have encountered many people.
One of my encounters went like this.
I had spent the last few days in Budapest. It was mid-January and freezing cold. I was tired after three days of driving around the country meeting clients. Even though the highways were pretty good for an ex-Communist country, the local roads were terrible. It was snowing constantly which made driving difficult and slow. Also my local General Manager did most of the driving. To put it mildly, he was not very good at it. I hate it when other people act as back seat drivers when I am driving. So I try to avoid being one myself. However in his case it was a matter of personal survival to be constantly alert.
My GM dropped me off at my hotel. We said our goodbyes and he left. I would be going home the next day. I had an early afternoon flight and no more meetings in the morning. As usual I was staying in the NH Hotel in the city center. Hotels in Budapest were expensive and most of the local ones quite shitty. The NH had European management and provided a good level of service.
In my room, I took a quick shower and changed into jeans and a sweater. Even after the shower I was still feeling cold. I decided to stay in and ordered a room service dinner. Whilst waiting for the dinner to arrive I made myself a rum and coke from the mini bar. I like my drinks quite strong, so I mixed the rum and coke in equal parts. At least my stomach started to warm up. I turned on the television and watched the BBC news channel. Passive entertainment was just about all my brain could manage.
Dinner arrived and I made myself another drink. The annoying part of mini bars in hotels is that of each drink there is only one small bottle. I decided on the whiskey, knowing that the vodka and the cognac would also follow. It made me smile. Knowing I would drink all the booze in the mini bar made for an illusion of choice.
After finishing my dinner I put the tray in the corridor. I mixed another drink and continued watching television. The dinner and the booze had re-energized me. The idea of spending the rest of the evening in my room started to lose appeal. Also because at the rate I was drinking, the mini bar would be depleted very soon.
I switched on my laptop and got on the internet. I scanned the nightlife pages of several sites. One of them included a listing for gay bars in the city center. I suddenly felt hungry for cock. It had been a long time since I tasted cum. Or had a hard cock in my ass for that matter.
After reviewing the gay pages of several sites, I decided to go the Action Bar. I had never been there, but its promise of a cruising area and a large dark room appealed to me just fine.
Even though it was snowing again I decided to walk. According to the map I had found in my room, it should be an easy walk to get there with little chance of getting lost.
The cold outside cleared my head, reducing the effects of the alcohol. For a minute I had doubts if my plan was really as smart as I thought it was in my hotel room. However the swelling of my dick convinced me it was. Just the thought of a dark room full of hard cocks made me walk faster.
I found the Action Bar, went in and paid the entrance fee. There was a guarded cloakroom and I got rid of my coat. I walked down a few steps into the bar area. It was quite busy with probably thirty men inside. The interior looked like as if the owner had gotten a good deal on a truckload of cheap timber. The bar was made of wood, the walls were covered with and the barstools were wooden. Not really a trendy gay place at all. I had serious doubts if my choice had been the right one.
I walked over to the bar and ordered another rum and coke. Having walked thirty minutes in the cold and snow I decided that at least I deserved a couple. I had made the rookie mistake of not writing down the names and addresses of other gay bars in the city. And the only thing my hotel was promising was an empty mini bar and a hand job. So I decided to stay.
I took my drink and went looking for the cruising area and dark room. Another couple of steps down led me into another room, again everything made of and covered by wood. The room was dimly lit. A couple of TV screens were mounted on the walls showing cheap gay porn. On one side there were wooden cages for a lack of a better word. Small wooden cubicles without doors connected by large windows covered by steel bars. Inside the cubicles were barstools. In some of them, there must have been five or six in a row, were guys sitting with their legs open, looking invitingly.
On the other side was a big wooden wall with a small opening. I walked through and realized I had found the actual dark room. Obviously I couldn't’t see a thing, but I heard the distinct noises of some guys having sex. The room also smelled of sex. My cock reacted immediately on the sounds and smells. It erased any doubts I had about going to this place. This was exactly what I was looking for.
I went back upstairs to the bar and ordered another drink. There were still some thirty guys in the bar area. Some were standing alone, some were in groups of two or three. Listening to the language they spoke most of them were Hungarians. But I also heard some English and German being spoken.
I sat down at the bar and scanned the crowd. A few of the men gave me smiles which I returned. With men I am much more reluctant to make the first move then when I am chasing women. I have no idea why that is. Maybe it is because I am more bottom than top and like to be chased myself for a change. After a while a guy walked over and sat beside me at the bar. He smiled at me, said hi and told me his name was Frank. I smiled back and also introduced myself. Frank was an English businessman and like me on his last night in Budapest.
He was a little bit younger than me and very gay. He was a bit smaller and boyish. He had a nice open face and personality. I am six foot tall and broad-shouldered and pretty fit for my age. Our communication was immediately intimate. Frank told me about the very gay lifestyle he was leading back in his home city in the UK. He had been in a couple of relationships. However he told me he was suffering from the “new cock syndrome” which made being in a committed relationship impossible for him. I told him I was a bisexual, liking men as much as I do women. In my experience some gay men hate bisexuals. Traitors to the cause I imagine. Frank did not seem to mind and asked me to tell him of some of my bisexual experiences in the past.
Frank and I were both very physical whilst talking. Our legs touched, we put our hands on each other’s legs and arms when telling something funny. Frank and I were having a great time, truly enjoying each other’s company.
Our conversation became more and more sexual. Even though he could top, Frank was a real bottom. As well as a real slut. He liked to be fucked in his ass by as many men as possible.