My first timein a gay sauna was February last year. I was in Leeds and I had a few hours to spare before my train to London. So I used my iPhone and found the Basement Complex Sauna, near the train station.
I remember it being a cold, grey day in the middle of the week. I didn’t think there would be anyone in the sauna – I just wanted to see what it was like. I ended up having a great experience.
Since then, I’ve been thinking off and on about gay saunas, in particular that one in Leeds. A year and a half went by and I didn’t visit any other; I suppose I was holding out for my “second time” to be in the Basement Complex again.
I was in Leeds yesterday and, again, with a few hours to spare before my train back to London. It was 6pm, people were streaming out of offices and heading for their trains home. I sat with a yogurt, my heart racing, watching many hot guys in suits and shorts walk by. I wondered if any of them were heading for the sauna, for a bit of sun after a glorious week of sunshine.
It was quiet near the Basement Complex and I had no trouble slipping in. A bald, muscular daddy type buzzed me in and warned me the sauna was quiet – did I really want to check in? I laughed and said I’d try my luck. But I had noticed a sign saying one of the sauna’s was closed down. “The dry one,” the receptionist said. “But it will be fixed tomorrow.”
There were two guys sitting in the lounge and another in the steam room. The guy in the steam room tried to start a conversation – it was his day off, he had done some marking and then come to the sauna to relax for the rest of the day. His glasses were hanging on a peg outside with his towel.
Upstairs, I sat down and watched porn for a while, trying to get hard. One of the guys I’d seen earlier in the lounge joined me and also started playing with himself. From slightly far away he seemed alright, with a hairless body, glasses and a nipple piercing. I showed him my erection and he came over to suck me off.
Up close, he had thinning hair, a body as soft as a girl’s. Up close, his muscles were rolls of feminine fat, his hips as wide as a woman’s. Up close, his kiss was like a girl puckering up her lips. I lost my erection.
The teacher from the steam room and a old chubby guy joined us and started playing with each other. An old fat guy walked by and decided to stop and watch. The five of us were the only people in the sauna. The guy sucking me off took hold of my hand and led me to a private cabin. As he walked in I whispered: “I’m going to get some water and I’ll be right back.”
I, of course, never came back.
I hid in the steam room for a bit, then I went into the lukewarm, turned off jacuzzi (just as he walked by, oblivious of me.) I wondered if I should find him and apologise: you’re not my type, I’d say… and I’m sorry! I did a quick walk around again and saw him in a room watching porn, but I kept walking. Took a shower and as I was drying my hair he walked by. He looked as embarrassed as me (or confused?)
All in all, I spent half an hour in the sauna. A good looking ginger businessman was standing outside as I stepped into the sunshine, smoking a cigarette. He pretended he didn’t see me; I wished he’d come inside while I was there. I got to the train station and one was departing for King’s Cross in ten minutes – finally a bit of luck!
Back in London, I dropped in at St Pancras’ toilets to take off my contact lenses. An idea struck me: what if I visited Liverpool St Station’s toilets for a final “cruise” before bed? For a chance to see at least one hot guy with his cock out?
There were four guys by the urinals at Liverpool St Station: two grey dads, a nerdy indian businessman and a short good looking guy. I stared at the short guy, with his curly brown hair and fuzzy beard, and a nice ass in blue shorts, and he looked back at me and shook his cock. He stared hard.
Outside, now carrying milk, bread and butter, I ran into him at the bus stop. He was smoking and still quite keen when he saw me. If my boyfriend weren’t at home I might have been tempted to invite him over. Or invite him to jump over Victoria Park’s fence and fuck in the bushes. Or find somewhere in Mile End Park’s shadows. But, instead, I climbed into my bus and went home. From my top floor window I saw him looking for me inside the bus.