Double Trouble

Back at Sweatbox for another adventure

I’m back in Sweatbox. It’s been maybe a few months since I was last here, slightly less since my last good fuck. I’ve just finished work, I’m horny, and I’m in the mood to be bent over and fucked raw.

Wandering the corridors of the steam room I pass guys I’ve never seen before and will likely never see again. Some try to catch my eye, silently pitching themselves. I meet their eyes briefly, recognising the attention, but continue on, a universal sign of either ‘I’ve just got here and I’m having a look around’ or ‘not interested.’

In alcoves and rooms there are men propped up on benches, legs spread wide, cocks dangling; some hard, some soft, some in the middle. Some men play with themselves as they watch men come and go, hoping to entice. One man is getting sucked off by someone on their knees in one room and another young guy is bent over being railed by a large, bald man in another. Welcome to Sweatbox.

Downstairs it’s cooler, darker, and more fun. You’re less aware of the sweat pouring out of you like in the steam room and can focus more on the options before you, the opportunities for tonight’s pleasure. In one space several men sit alone, all jacking off to the porn being played on a large TV screen. Next to that is one of two slings, this one occupied by a man ass up with his towel over his face, an open invitation. One step along from that is the dark room, the moans and squeals coming from behind the plastic sheet curtain telling everyone that it’s active.

People walk the cool corridors down here searching for someone. Some are picky, many aren’t. I have my preferences. I typically go for older guys. They don’t have to be in the best shape, but a hint of tone and definition gets my engine going. I also like shorter guys. Maybe it’s being 6’2” and wanting something I can’t have. But I often get it. If a guy’s got some stubble or a moustache, or the right amount of chest hair - not too much but not too little (call me a gay sexual Goldilocks) - then I’m in heaven. Basically, I’m looking for someone to stare up at from the floor as I suck the life out of them, who calls me a good boy before turning me around and fucking a load into me.

I’ve already done a couple of laps of the relatively small space. There’s a couple of guys I have my eye on and I’m hoping to cross their paths again on my next round, establish firmer eye contact and hope they follow me into one of the cubicles. As I turn a corner I see a couple walking towards me. They’re around the same height, must be 5’7, both quite stocky but muscular. One has a moustache and both have a light spread of chest hair. They’re both walking around naked, towels draped over shoulders unlike me with my towel wrapped around my waist, visible v lines drawing the eye down to my crotch.

I know immediately I want them to fuck me. Both of them, at the same time, one after the other, it doesn't matter. My cock, operating at a half chub, starts to grow more at the thought of being pleasured by these two. As we pass I smile, and say out aloud ‘Hi’ to which they respond in kind. We barely pass before I turn around. They do the same.