I guess I have always known I'm attracted to men.  At school, my friend Ronnie used to try to put his hand down my trousers on the school bus.  At the time I fought him off, but as I've aged I think back and wonder why.  As was usual for people in the sixties and seventies I grew into heterosexual relationships, got married and had children.  None of which I regret; I love my family dearly but I have often wondered how it might have been different.

As I got near to being fifty that curiosity grew; the sensations created by that skinny schoolboy when I was fifteen seemed more real than perhaps they ever were at the time.  I started to yearn for that touch, for the feel of another man's hand on me.  I started to watch porn and wonder what it would feel like to experience some of the things I witnessed on screen.

That inquisitive mindset came to a head when I had to spend three days away from home.  Alone, ensconced in a strange and characterless hotel, I could not only let my imagination run free, I had the opportunity to explore my fantasies.  When I searched online hoping to find a bar or club nearby I found that I was close a gay sauna/bathhouse.  At the time I had only a vague notion of what that might be, but it was sufficient an idea to rush having dinner and make the thirty minute walk on a rather cold, grey and wet evening.

If I said I was nervous walking in through the door, that would be the understatement of the century.  It brought back memories of being summoned to the headmasters office (thanks to Ronnie, that was something that happened frequently).  My heart was beating fast, my hands were clammy and when the nice man tried to engage me in conversation as he exchanged a key for my entrance fee, the best I could do was stammer unintelligibly.  It hadn't helped that the place was located at the end of a dark and lonely alleyway.

I did manage to relax a little when I reached the changing room.  It was still early evening and I had wondered whether this was the sort of place that wouldn't liven up until late.  There was, however, one or two other people glad to be changing out of rain soaked clothing.  Enough to give me some clue as to what to stuff into the too small locker (everything) and the appropriate dress code (nothing).

The locker came equipped with two towels, two condoms and a small sachet of KY jelly.  Nobody that I could see seemed to be bothering to carry any of these objects so, after showering for the second time that evening, I took the lubricant and spread it in the only place I could imagine it going.  I am not sure I had thought through at that point what I expected or what the implications might be, but somehow it seemed logical; if they provided it, they clearly expected it to be used.

That changing room was actually my first introduction to seeing gay 'action' in real life.  There were two men standing under one shower, arms wrapped round each other.  From where I stood it was initially impossible to see their cocks, but it was quite clear that one was jerking the other off.  I stood there washing myself down for far longer than necessary, entranced by the sight, wanting to see them climax.  Sadly they decided they needed more privacy or more comfort, and left.  

I suppose that was the turning point.  Seeing two lithe, wet, glistening bodies in close contact, catching a glimpse of two hard, thick, blood-engorged cocks, wondering where they were heading hand in hand, had me excited.  I am not sure that my heart was beating any less fast or that my hands felt any less clammy than when my nerves were getting the better of me, but this was now for very different reasons.  I was stepping into an unknown and wanted whatever was heading my way.

Downstairs from the changing room was a bar come lounge come .... well, I'm not sure how to name it.  There were subdued lights, several sun loungers, a large sunken hot tub, several doorways, corridors and a surprising number of men.  I decided to slip back to the locker to drape a dry towel around my waist.  I thought it might help fit into the crowd but even that seemed optional; nobody seemed to notice the bare buttocks and genitalia waving past their eye-line.  Nobody except me.  I couldn't take my eyes off of them.

I found myself a corner and sat and did what I do best; people watch.  It was a joy to sit and absorb the atmosphere and consider what people were thinking.  I have never been one for loud music, or for base beats that seem to vibrate through the soles of your feet, but there it seemed wholly appropriate and added to the excitement.  I know from just simply ordering a drink that it would have made conversation impossible but somehow that didn't seem to matter; no-one was there for a chat.

It wasn't long before intrigue got the better of me.  I had seen people disappear through some doorway or archway.  One or two were gone just a minute or two, as if they may have gone for a pee, but some seemed to vanish for ages.  There was nothing that seemed to be private or off-limits so I set off to explore.

There were all sorts of hidden delights; cubicles with glory-holes, lockable rooms with beds and a choice of Turkish and Swedish saunas.  The area that caught my attention however lay beyond a large and heavy door that completely silenced the noise and further subdued the lighting.  One direction led to some sort of dungeon with chains and contraptions that baffled my simple mind but that lay quiet and empty.  The other direction led down a long corridor.

It was more like following my instincts than any of my senses; there was no sound, the walls were painted black and bar a glimmer in front of me, no lights.  I couldn't imagine anyone was going to leave holes in the floor but nonetheless stepped warily and kept one hand against the wall in case I should lose my balance.  After about twenty tentative steps the corridor turned.  In front of me a glass door.

The door led to another steam room, dimly lit but bright enough to see several occupants.  I took the nearest seat next to an older gentleman.  I didn't particularly want to get my towel too damp so draped it around my neck rather than sit on a wet seat.  My neighbour took that as in invitation to reach over and touch my cock.  I didn't object.  After all the anticipation I might have been disappointed if he hadn't.

I confess I have not had a huge amount of sexual experience.  I was a rather shy youth and only had one serious girlfriend before getting married.  I could count the number of people who had ever held my cock in their hands ... well, on one hand.  Having someone new touch me was wonderful.  Having the dry, slightly rough skin of another man hold and rub me, ecstatic.

As the steam in the room cleared a little I could see I was not the only one enjoying themselves.  The man opposite me was busy wanking himself, his neighbour sucked off by what appeared to be a young boy.  I could really only see his head and arched back but he seemed to have perfectly smooth white skin.  

I sat there for a good five minutes, but after that the heat of the room started to become unbearable.  I didn't particularly want to leave but I did want to experience more.  I wanted to feel another man's body.  I wanted to be able to touch and hold another mans cock.  I felt sure my companion would not have objected but sadly what he had offer looked small and limp; I craved something bigger and knew from what I’d seen, they were to be had.

I returned back the way I had come, the same careful steps, the same holding the wall but this time discovered another opening hidden in the shadows.  Again there were no sounds and I had little idea what I was stepping into but that didn't stop me.  There were no walls beyond the opening so I had no sense of whether the space was a cupboard or cave.  I moved nervously on, then stopped.

It is the strangest of sensation being unable to see and as everything was so silent, it felt as if I couldn’t hear.  I have read that deprivation of one sense can enhance others.  In that strange space, it seemed as if the air was alive, that I could feel with every cell and every hair on my naked body.  Time stood still.

I had almost begun to believe I was alone when a hand brushed against my chest.  More a finger than hand; it really was the lightest of touch.  It was enough to make contact, enough to entice whoever was there.  The fingers became a hand, first on my shoulder, then down over my nipple.  Then further, slowly, until fingers reached between my legs.  I shuffled my feet trying to make things easier.

I felt the hand encircle my already hard penis, pulling on the foreskin, drawing it back over the head.  Then I felt lips, at first touching the tip as if kissing it, then parting as a hot wet mouth encircled me.  I felt teeth.  I think now I should have questioned what was going to happen, should have been more concerned but the sensations running through my body, the thoughts running through my mind, were in turmoil.  I am not sure I would have objected even if I had been bitten.

No sooner than the person at my front started wanking me and sucking the end of my cock than another hand grazed against my back.  Again the first touches were tentative, but as they grew more confident the hand slid down my back finding the crack of my buttocks.  It wasn’t long before it found my tight hole.

It was then I considered the impact of having spread lubricant on myself.  As the finger slid deep into me I was glad that I had made access easy and relatively painless.  When the finger was removed and a semi-hard cock tried to slide between my ass cheeks, I was conflicted.  Part of me wanted to know what it is was like to have a cock inside me but was I prepared to get fucked bareback by a complete stranger?

Having hands squeezing both my cock and my testicles limited my movement and I can only assume my lack of response deterred whoever was behind me.  After re-inserting one, then two fingers into my rectum, they vanished.  I would add that the knuckles of two fingers passing through the tight sphincter of my butt actually hurt, but that was something I would dwell on much later.

As the activity taking place at my rear stopped so did that at my front.  I sensed rather than heard movement.  My brain tried to process the sudden change, to question what I could do to engage one other person in some sort of activity when hands again touched my chest, this time confident and demanding.  They reached one onto each shoulder and pushed down.  I got the message and sank to my knees.

It took a moment to find this man’s penis but I managed.  As I gently clasped both hands around its length I realised it was considerably longer and thicker than mine.  It felt heavy and hot.  I could feel the blood being pumped through it.  I could tell the man had a foreskin but that was drawn back, the head of his penis swollen and hard.  With one hand gripping his shaft, the other reaching between his legs, I licked the tip.

I have licked the pre-cum off myself often enough to recognise the taste.  I could feel it sticking to my tongue.  I tentatively parted my lips, sucking gently, hoping to savour that sweet, sticky liquid but it became quickly clear someone wanted a lot more.  Hands grasped my head and with a push, this man's cock entered my mouth.  Other than perhaps squeeze the man's balls I made no movement, certainly nothing to suggest I wouldn’t comply.  I don’t think there was any conscious thought about what I wanted, or would tolerate.

A second, harder thrust and this man’s cock filled my mouth.  A third and it pushed against the back of my throat.  I thought I would have gagged but I simply adjusted my position to make it as easy as possible, trying hard to suck.  Again, no conscious decision.  Certainly no resistance.  I was being face fucked.

I started with my thumb pressed against the man’s perineum and my fingers against his ass hole but as his rhythm mounted, I had to put both hands behind me to keep my balance.  I had absolutely no control over what was happening but far from fill me with fear, it had me even more excited.  I could feel my own cock throb.   But then it stopped.  I sensed the man was about to cum, and he may well have done, but he let go of my head and withdrew from my mouth.  I felt nothing.

When it became obvious this man wasn't returning, I got back on my feet.  I stood in the silence of that room hoping, wanting, almost praying that someone else was close by.  I moved, finding a wet and sticky patch on the floor, presumably where my previous companion had ejaculated.  I waited for what felt like hours but nothing happened.

Assuming I had been left alone I found my way back to the corridor.  Thankfully my eyes had adjusted to the dark and I could just make out where the door was.  I considered returning to the steam room, wondering if someone there might jerk me to a climax, but I didn't think I could take the heat.  I turned back towards the exit.

Now if all that sounds anti-climactic and disappointing, it was, but I couldn't get the whirlwind of thoughts out of my head.  Would I have objected if that man had cum in my mouth?  No.  Would I have pulled away if he had ejaculated over my face and body?  No.  Would I have bent over and let someone fuck me earlier?  Most definitely.  My arousal had been piqued.  I was as horny as hell.

I made my way first to the shower then planned to make my way back to the cubicles and glory-holes thinking there were several men loitering there.  One the way however, I stopped for a pee and found myself with an intriguing audience.  Two older men, standing at the urinal, clearly just watching each other and not much else.

Now I have to confess that while I was no spring chicken, the idea of having some sort of sexual relationship with an older man appeals to me.  I had no choice but to stand in between them.  It quickly became obvious their attention was drawn to me.  Instead of being able to urinate I became hard again and started to rub myself.

It wasn't long before I was reliving all the thoughts and excitement of my time in that strange place, imagining all the things that might yet happen.  I reached a climax.  It was perhaps the longest and most explosive orgasm I had ever experienced,  Cum spurted from my cock, hitting the back of the urinal, and continued to spurt and dribble for several seconds.  

The man on my right reached over and grasped my now wet and throbbing cock wiping his fingers over the end, putting them into his mouth.  The man on my left reached over, took my hand and lay it against his semi limp cock.  I obliged by grasping him.  Now I have to say that I have large hands and with his rather large belly it was hard to hold him properly but what he lacked in length, he made up for in thickness.  

I assumed he wanted me to jerk him off but no sooner than I started to squeeze and move my hand he stopped me.  I was for a moment confused but happy to oblige.  All became clear when he started to urinate.  He had wanted me to hold him while he had a piss.  The way I was holding him most went over my hand but again, I didn't object. 

When he had finished his companion smiled at me and asked 'do I get a turn?'  After the pleasure they had afforded me I felt it would be churlish to refuse.  I turned towards him and got down on my knees.   He turned towards me and moved forward.  I managed to get my hand between us and hold his cock.  It was by then flat against my chest.  I felt a hot stream of piss run down my body, over my pubes, my penis and my thighs.

After some very affectionate thank-you's and yet another shower, I decided to leave and return to my hotel.  Laying in bed that night I toyed with the idea of going back.  I even considered whether I should have invited one or both of those men to spend the night.  While I had enjoyed wanking myself off, I missed the feel of cumming in or on another human being, being able to kiss and hold someone in that moment, being able to share that joy.  As it was I fell asleep and let those thoughts invade my dreams.  An invasion that has lasted to this day.