I Wanna Sauna! – Part I: The Truth About Duluth

This is the first of a three part story about my recent visit to Duluth, MN.

I like Duluth, MN. A lot. I’ve been there several times now, and each time I discover something (or someone) new. This is just a weekend trip; two days to explore and experience the men of Duluth. Basically I’m helping out a friend of mine. He goes to Duluth each year for a convention where he’s a vendor. I help him unload, set-up, strike and load his stuff. While I have some time obligated, for the most part, during the day, I am on my own to do as I please.

This time, we stay at a hotel in the harbor district. I thought it would be a place that would be easy to find, easy to get to, and known to all. Unfortunately, there’s quite a bit of road work going on, so coming into the city from the south involves a lengthy delay for all. This will prove problematic during my first morning there. Arriving late on Friday, I help with unloading and the set-up, eat dinner, and then go to bed.

Up early the next day, I get on-line; using my usual venues, changing my profiles to suit my location and situation. I also place an ad on Craigslist. Along with my stats, talents and desires, I specify that I will be at the Family Sauna later that afternoon.

The Family Sauna is kind of a rarity in Minnesota. The upper floor is a legitimate sauna for males and females. It is a family-friendly place up there, so needless to say I have never ventured up those steps. It’s another kind of sauna in the basement. In this instance “Sauna” translates to “Bath House”, as in “Gay Bath House”. That said; this is not exactly an upscale bath house, like say, Steamworks in Chicago. No, this is more in line with what you might experience at Man Country in Chicago; in short? It is kind of a dump, but a dump that is not without its charms. Granted, you have to kind of blur your eyes and pretend it’s 1972, but there can be plenty to like found there.

The first few times I visited Duluth I was not aware of Family Sauna, nor did I have a laptop with wi-fi, so my early visits were rather fruitless; checking out the local public restrooms to absolutely no avail. The time previous to this, I still didn’t have a laptop, but I did do a little more research. So, on that trip I checked out not only Family Sauna, but also the adult bookstore/movie house up the hill from the sauna. The guy at the movie house wore a sneer on his face the entire time I looked at their selection of poppers and was really kind of rude when I asked to purchase tokens for the movie theatres. Besides the usual booths (minus glory holes, but featuring a large sign reminding one that two people are not allowed to share a booth), there were two actual mini-movie theatres; one gay, one straight. The tokens allow you to enter - one time only - through the doors to the theatre and then they seal electronically behind you. I went into the straight one, realized there wasn’t anyone under fifty or without a major gut and left. The gay one was empty, and I actually watched the movie for like twenty minutes before another guy entered. The guy was one of the fattest, ugliest men that I had seen in the straight theatre. I’d positioned myself in the far rear corner of the theatre. He chose to sit on the end of my row, which meant, in order to leave, I would have to go past him. The dude began playing with himself and I took that as my exit cue. Climbing over the row of seats in front of me, I made my way to the door at the back of the theater, careful to keep my eyes averted from whatever the fat man had in his hands. I never went back, and probably never will.

My first impression of Family Sauna was not that great either, but, after spending two afternoons there, I did manage to meet some nice guys (one each day). So, based on those experiences, I was looking forward to spending more time in that dank little hole, albeit with much more confidence than on my first two visits. After all, I’ve been working out for another whole year, and also, my quality standards have risen somewhat.

Having a laptop in Duluth with free wi-fi would prove to be… well, not all that helpful, really. I spend the morning on-line. On Adam4Adam, I believe there are about six people in the Duluth room, with only one that I have any interest in. Unfortunately, that individual (age 46) is only looking for boys under the age of 25, which, given that Duluth is a college town, he probably gets more than enough boys with daddy issues knocking on his door. The Craigslist ad yields only four leads, one of which is old enough to be my grandfather – which is to say, he is really, really, really old! One of the four is also on A4A and I’d already eliminated him from consideration, as he has only one headless pic of dubious quality and strikes me as someone I should do my best to avoid. But he is persistent, and apparently close by. I keep him at arms length as I pursue my one good leads: a full-bodied man ten years younger than me, with a hot goatee and an evil mind, makes it quite clear that he is a total dom top. I’m concerned that he might be a little on the flabby side, but, he titillates me with promises of subjugation and complete control and wins me over. Not only am I going to suck him hard and then take his dick up my ass until he cums, he’s then going to make me stay in bed with him while he worships my body and gets hard again, before providing me with a second load. Needless to say, he has me at hello!

We set up a time, 20 minutes from then. I gather the things I need and check my ass to make sure I’m good to go. Twenty minutes come and go and no dom top. I get a message from him via his cell phone: “Coming in from the south and traffic is backed up. Will be a bit later than promised.” Kind of disappointing. Well, I get on-line and begin looking around. I get hit on by this big guy – as in 6’6”, 280 lbs. He has a face pic, but that is it. He’s got a big round head and black, buzzed hair. His face is covered in a black, closely cropped beard, and while I am a little concerned that big in this case means fat, I was intrigued by what it might be like to have such a large dude crushing me under his full body. He claims to be a dom top, too, sporting a 7” dick. Well, since his peenie isn’t a weenie, I decide to go for it, and schedule him for an hour and a half after my other dom top is to arrive. What could go wrong, right?

Well, time marches on and not a word from Dom Top #1. The entire time I’m waiting that dude from A4A keeps hitting on me, telling me he’s only a few minutes away from my hotel. After waiting an hour for Dom Top #1 to show, I go ahead and invite the persistent dude with the headless dick pic over. Of course, the moment I do that, who do I get a text from? Dom Top #1. He’s almost there. I ask him if he would mind if someone joins us. His answer is vague, but he’s not opposed to the idea, so thinking everything might work out, I email Mr. Persistent and tell him to hold off for 30 minutes. He tells me, no problem.

Mr. Dom Top #1 shows up. He immediately takes control of the scene, ordering me to strip off what little I have on and get on my knees. I slurp on the outside of his jeans for awhile before being given permission to loosen his belt and unzip his fly. Then I soak the cup of the jock he’s wearing with my spit until he orders me to lick his balls. Mr. Dom Top #1 is a solid man, as in, big, but not an ounce of fat. It is all solid, healthy, and as firm as his dick. His pictures have not done him justice and as my hands explore while my mouth works magic on his six and a half inch cock, I am really regretting having invited someone else over. In no time, I have him stripped of his clothes and he’s ordering me to get my ass on the bed. I slip a condom on him and offer up my hole, but he wants it a different way. He has me lie on my back with my legs in the air. He wants constant eye contact and to kiss me while he fucks me. I’m hot for him and do as I’m told.

He’s fucking me for about ten minutes when there’s a knock on the door. That’s when Dom Top #1 starts getting pissy. He sighs and tells me to go answer the door. When he first got there we discussed the other dude coming and he seemed resigned to it. I open the door to my mystery date – and discover I got a dud. Dude is short, older than he claimed and kind of a pudge; one of those formless, hairless, round guys with stooped shoulders and a permanent string of drool running down the corner of his mouth. Another word for him? Goon. He pads in and Mr. Dom #1 heads immediately to the bathroom and begins cleaning up. The Goon proceeds to strip off all his clothes and is good to go. I keep trying to catch Mr. Dom #1’s eye, but no luck. Mr. Dom tells me, “I know this guy,” dresses, and exits in a huff. I’m crushed, but understand. It’ my fault.

The goon persuades me to get on the bed on all fours so he can eat my ass, which I allow him to do for about two seconds. “That’s it. I’m done.” I say, because I was – done. This doesn’t seem to faze The Goon and something tells me that this happens to him quite frequently. He exits, trying to persuade me to come over to his place later, but no dice.

I send an email to Dom Top #2 telling him I have to run and do something and apologize for my lack of planning. Truth is, the idea of another dude showing up at my hotel room isn’t working for me. I need to get out of that room and away from the memory of Dom Top #1’s hasty exit.

I look at the clock and figure it’s time to head over to the Family Sauna. I’m leaving early because there’s a little shopping I want to do on the way - I need some fresh poppers. I’d come across an ad for a head shop called The Last Place On Earth. They are currently suing the city of Duluth for passing an ordinance banning the sale of synthetic marijuana. The place is part porn/sex shop, part head shop. I bought a little pipe (because I could, not because I have anything to smoke with it) and a bottle of poppers. The staff is really friendly. The guy that sells me the poppers tells me that the good people who make Rush have gone out of business (rumor has it the owner of the company committed suicide). I pocket my stuff and head toward Family Sauna.

Walking into the lobby on the main floor one can’t help but notice the smell of stale smoke. It always reeks of cigarette smoke. There’s someone different behind the counter, a sprightly-acting, balding librarian sort who is very solicitous and a bit full-tilt giddy. I purchase a couple of bottles of water, grab my towels and key and head down into the basement. I have a full bag of “stuff” with me. Why? Because on previous trips I learned that there is nothing extra to be had at Family Sauna. No condoms, no lube. No food. There is a soda machine, and I know I will make good use of it, because I suddenly realize that I’ve not eaten since 7:00 am. I don’t like soda, much, but I really hate it when my blood sugar suddenly crashes.

Once my stuff is stored, I make my way to the bathroom – which is really just a concrete stall with a saloon style door that provides very little in the way of privacy. I have to douche. There was a time when the idea of cleaning out my ass in a public restroom with little privacy would have unnerved me, but I’ve gotten over it, so I just get down to business and do my thing. Once that’s done, I slip on a metal cock ring and decide it’s time to take in the sights. There was also a time when I would have walked around with a towel secured around my waist to hide my dick from prying eyes, but I’ve gotten over that as well. I know what everyone is here for, so why not just be upfront about it? Even if I’m not interested in fooling around with someone I figure I might as well allow them to get an eyeful and get their jollies. Not into me? Keep it to yourself.

Before I leave the locker area I look around me and count the number of locked lockers (8). That gives me an idea of the number of men trolling about. I first check out the sauna (empty). Then I proceed to the little video room (one white obese man plopped in a chair), the two bedrooms behind the video room (one empty, one occupied by some dude snoring, too dark to see) and eventually make my way to the TV room (one tall, dark-haired man, late 40’s with bushy mustache watching some true crime show). After that I make my way around the hallway where all the private rooms are. First one has one bed and is empty. The next has, for some reason, two beds, and is empty. The third, and this is the most prized room, has it’s door closed, which indicates that a little something something is taking place between those four walls. I walk along the back hall, past my favorite place to hang – a futon situated directly across from the soda machine – and turn left into a hallway where there are three more rooms (all empty). The tiny room next to the soda machine is my personal favorite.

I like the size of Family Sauna because not much can happen there without you knowing about it. If someone is there, you will eventually see them. That’s reassuring, which is why, this trip, I decide to plant myself on the futon and see who’s interested enough in what I got to cruise me. I circle back, through the TV Room and past the dark-haired mustached man. I don’t make eye contact, because, on first glance, I am not interested. As I head down the hallway, the door to the most-prized room opens and out walks what can only be described as my worse nightmare. I will call him Pony Boy. Pony Boy is not a boy. He has not been a boy for many, many years, but since he is a clueless mess (or should that be ‘meth’), he still carries himself as if he were. He was probably very attractive at one time, but years of drug use have left his once muscular, smooth body gaunt and stringy looking. His main of shoulder-length black curly hair, once his pride, is now sparse and lusterless. His ass still looks good – carried high and looking perky, but his face? His eyes are now sunken, beady black and bird-like, his cheekbones a bit too austere, and his skin… a roadmap of where not to travel.

He breezes past me, no eye contact. No doubt he’s on his way to clean out his ass. I walk past the open door and spy, lying on the bed, a reclining male body, his scrawny legs and arms resting on all sides of his protruding, round, distended belly. I don’t need to see his face to know his story; one of, what not to become. I do my best not to judge, but some observations cannot be trifled away. Sitting on one end of the futon, I try not to allow my own hopes and prospects to be dimmed by the reality of what I’ve just seen.

It isn’t long before Mr. Mustache makes his way past me. Hot on his heels is a short, white haired man with a strong jaw and a fairly nice hairless body, especially in light of his age. They both have their towels wrapped around their waists, but not me! I make eye contact with Mr. Mustache and give him a slight smile. He moves on. When the older man pauses before me and smiles at me with raised eyebrows, I look away and place my towel over my dick. Only then does he move on. I’m in no hurry, I tell myself. I have hours before I have to be anywhere and certainly better things will come along. I call to mind a beautiful Italian man that was arriving just as I was leaving the last time I visited Family Sauna. Quality men do come here.

One just needs to be patient.

End Part I
Next Week: Part II