Wednesday, June 01, 2011


I used to frequent a certain Bathhouse.  My heart would always be pounding and my blood rushing with excitement and anticipation as I drove there.  You bought a membership and you had to pay a fee to enter where you were given a locker key and a towel.  Once in, you changed out of your clothes and wrapped the towel around your waist or if you were especially endowed or an exhibitionist, you just threw the towel over your shoulder.  I always wrapped the towel around my waist, because I was neither of those.  I would first make a pass through the entire facility to check out my options.  What is always a given in these places is that your options always changes regularly, so you must be flexible and patient and aware that what may not look promising right now, could all change within minutes.  This place had a little jungle gym for cocksuckers.  You stepped up onto a platform and hung your dick out through a hole and just waited.  Sure enough, before long someone would be there to suck your johnson.  Depending on my mood I would either step up onto the platform or wait below.  One night as I was sucking this guy's cock he gave me my first snort of poppers.  I could have sucked the chrome off a car bumper it made me so horny.  Very smart man.  I've done it very few times, because I figure anything that good is eventually going to take it's toll and I always feel that I need as many brain cells as I can get and retain. 
There were also rooms that you could rent by the hour with a bed and guys would hang out either on their stomachs with their ass to the door or sit up stroking themselves waiting for your attention.  I had many wild encounters in those rooms.  There was a steam room where most of the action occurred.  One night I ended up with two dicks in my mouth and eventually a lot of cum on my shoulders and chest.  Back then, I rarely swallowed.  AIDS was too new and there was so much conflicting information going around.
There was also a video room where guys would just sit around and jack off or hook up.  It was carpeted and had different levels for you to choose to sit on.
The jacuzzi was also a fun place to fool around.  I love sex in water, so I always ended my night there, before the last shower.  I always drove away feeling cleaner and dirtier than I've ever felt.


harry said...

I loved this. It brought back so many memories. I think there is a story here - maybe a whole bunch of stories. What do you think, MM?

miracleman said...

Oh Harry,
You have no idea. I have stories galore. And I thank God everyday that I am still here to tell them.

Love, MM

André said...

Bathhouses and hammams: it brings so many memories, thank you! On my counter: 55 years of frequentation "and I'm still here" (says you and Sondheim). New York (in the Sixties), Key West, Bogota, L.A., San Francisco, HongKong, Beijing, Beyrouth, Jerusalem, Cairo, Istambul, Moscow (Sixties). Berlin, Munich, Amsterdam, London, Paris, Zurich, Geneva (my first time, the bathhouse was not "gay" but the clients yes) and in my hometown in 8 different establishments through the years. Now I'm amazed that the owners don't evict me.

Anonymous said...

i used to love bath houses. i went to college in a city and lunchtime could be wild. it was the tactility of it...all those hands and mouths and other body parts all over you. a total sense of abandonment. what's that song, "those were the days my friends." whew!

miracleman said...

Oh, the places you've been. What an amazing career. Ha! Take me with you.
Rugby, that song came to mind while I was writing the post. "We thought they'd never end." Steamworks in Berkeley is still running strong. Haven't been in years. The steamroom at Flex in Phoenix was a veritable orgy of sweaty orgasmic bodies. Yes, those were the days my friend.