What no one tells you about boyfriends and bathhouses, pt. 1

What no one tells you about boyfriends and bathhouses, pt. 1
Usually we’d start with some vague rhetorical question like, “Have you ever wanted to live out your sexual fantasy with you boyfriend?”  It’s a question to which we already know the answer, but ask just to grab your attention.  But this post is different so let’s start by saying this,

We fucked so much that my dick is literally raw…and I like it.

The last couple weeks have been rough for our relationship.  Jamel and I have asked each other our fair share of “why are you even with me?” and “do you even want to be together?”  In all the situations, I can admit that it was just tell-tale signs of my ego flaring.  I didn’t truly have any question on the intention behind our relationship, but the tax of life weighed a little heavy on my side of our partnership.

Needless to say, we’ve been in need of getting back to the basics of our union: subtle reminders of why we started dating in the first place, why we got together, and why we’re building a future with each other.  I don’t know if Jamel’s answers would be the same, but somewhere lining the foundation of this tower called our partnership is mind-blowing-earth-shattering-headboard-banging-neighbors-know-my-name kind of sex.

I used to run away from the idea that sex could be a foundation of a good relationship.  I bought into the rhetoric that says I want someone for more than just sex.  But as I’ve matured, I’ve started to care less about others’ perception of me and the things that I have and more about what those things truly mean to me.

While you may not know how beautiful Jamel is, when I first saw him, my body reacted.  I sat a little taller in my chair.  I smiled a little broader.  Laughed a little harder at his humor.  And, most importantly of the list, my dick stood at attention.  So now I can proudly say that, while we have so much more than just sex, my physical attraction to him is what sparked it for me.

Now to this trip to the bathhouse.  He sent me a text message for roughly 8:30 that was just an address and instructions to a game he called “ManHunt” (no relation to the hook-up app) where “if I could find him I could have him.”  Being new to the Atlanta gay scene, I had no clue where this address led me, but as I put it into navigation, I quickly discovered it was Flex.

When I arrived, the crowd was lackluster at best.  Lots of men many years older than me, many beers carried around their waists, and much to little melanin, but I played along.  I found one little brown boy who eventually sucked my dick as my Jamel ate his ass.  The head was alright.  There was nothing wrong with it, but had Jamel’s esophagus been the one I was feeling, it would have been better.

Then there was a random that I decided to stick my dick in.  Jamel completely consented to my exploits, but even as I was doing him, it felt forced.  Notwithstanding, his ass was tighter than my liking. But again, if it were Jamel’s walls gripping my dick, it would have been a lot smoother of a situation.

After a number of failed attempts at “a good nut”, I decided to try my luck at something unheard of: fucking the person I came with.  I shot off a quick text to Jamel saying, “I’ve found you four times, but when do I have you?” Like magic, when I stepped out of my room, there he was.  Melanin laden, jock strap adorned, with the light hitting all the features of his face.  He looked me up and down from the bottom of the stairs, turned around and walked into the sauna motioning me to follow him with his eyes.

To be continued…


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