This is the third and final part of a three part series about a recent trip to Duluth.
The Hunter and I end up sort of cuddling and kissing while standing up. My hands press his body into mine as his hands work both his own dick and mine. There’s some heat generated… I mean, come on – the dude is kind of a faggot’s wet dream with his stash, fur, compact, muscular body and camouflage cap. I never really get a sense of his dick, as it is quite dark in the room and he never allows my hands anywhere near it. With a sense of great relief and urgency he tells me he was going to cum. “Go for it, man.” He is a vision of manhood as sweat clings to his matted fur. I play cheerleader as his heavy load hits the linoleum with a satisfying splat. While he does ask if I want to get off, he doesn’t seem all that committed to seeing it through, so I pass. Before leaving the room, I kneel down and wipe up his cum with my towel. I wouldn’t want anyone slipping on it.
He hits the showers and I hit the sauna. I’m cruised quite a bit for the next hour, but it always seems to be by someone with a paunch or someone on the elderly side of life. So I spend a good hour sitting on the futon that afternoon, staring at the old, rough textured walls. Making a game of it, I try to discern faces and figures amidst the contrasting contours in the wall’s make-up. Walking around, I discover a few things that had escaped my notice. There is a peephole in one of the rooms that looks into the locker room. It seems rather pointless, but then, if there is something happening in the room and you’re on the other side, maybe you could watch some of the action. In retrospect, Family Sauna could use a lot more of both – peepholes and action. I also discover a glory hole of sorts. Two of the rooms near the front stairs share an adjoining door. I’m sitting in one, when suddenly a beckoning finger appears and that’s when I realize what that hole in the door, just below the door knob, is for. I don’t take advantage of it, because I know what the troll on the oth
er side looks like – he’d been chasing me on and off all day. Sometimes knowing takes away all the fun of it, and sometimes knowing is a good thing.
The white-haired man that had plopped down beside me on the futon earlier is still sitting on the futon when he isn’t sitting in the actual sauna. As the day progresses I also notice that his towel is revealing more and more each time he sits on the futon. I know he’s playing with himself, but he’s very shy about it whenever I pass by. I do find him attractive; his body’s good, and his face sharp and distinguished. What the hell, I think; nothing else is going on, so I plop my ass down next to him. We pass another ten minutes or so playing “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.” His dick is, like his face; classic, with a touch of prettiness. When he first reveals his full dick to me I’m quite awed by what accompanies it. His balls are wrapped in this big, heavy, chrome weight that serves as a ball stretcher. Recently I’ve been experimenting with the sensation of having my balls confined and stretched. There’s something really intense about it, and seeing this taken to the extreme this gentleman has taken it, I find myself really aroused. He lets me play with the weight a little. I can see the pleasure/pain that each bobble and pull causes him as it registers, not only on his face, but also in the texture, color and size of his dick. His dick seems to pulse with excitement, his pee hole opening as if it were gasping for air. Just as I’m leaning in for a taste of his cock, off it shoots with a great arching volley of jizz, followed by another and another… man, I think, this dude’s prostate must be in excellent condition.
It’s a kick and a half watching this man ejaculate. The combination of expressions that washed across his face – fear, pain, pleasure, joy, repeat, repeat – is totally hot to witness. After his eighth and final spurt, an embarrassed smile spreads across his face and he apologizes(!) profusely. “I’ve been playing with myself all day”, he says. I tell him that had I known that I would have stopped by to help him out sooner. Ah, my loss. We make some small talk as I continue to play with his balls and I asked him questions about where he purchased the chrome weight, is it difficult to put on, etc. He indulges me for a bit, then wrapping himself up off he goes to the sauna, chrome weight still in place. Relishing my experience, I stay put on the futon until a couple of unsavory types – an Asian dwarf type and an obese, hairless young man - start hitting on me. Then I go join the white-haired man with the chrome weight in the Sauna.
Sitting opposite him is a tall, thin man with a long beard. He looks like a biker, as in motorcycle gang. The condition of his body tells the rest of his story. He’s definitely the victim of some kind of wasting – probably HIV related. His arms and legs are all gnarly muscle, while his tummy area is a tad distended. Still, there’s something hot about him – probably having to do with my fantasy about him being a biker. Maybe it’s the beard. The white-haired man leaves, allowing The Biker and me some privacy. As I sit in the heat, my towel open, I cup my balls and dick with one hand and play with my hole with the other. He may have HIV, but I have condoms. My actions don’t go unnoticed and soon he reveals his dick. As I suspected, it’s long and thin – just like his face and nose. We watch each other intently until a gigantic, obese man rolls in and plops his ass between us. I’m up like a shot and hit the showers. The Biker doesn’t follow and I’m thinking, oh, well, maybe he’s just here for the Sauna. I dry myself, for the umpteenth time that day and head off for the futon. On the way, I stop, grab some quarters and treat myself to Coke. I drink the soda. Time passes, I’m bored. I get up and walk down the hall toward the front steps… when I catch sight of The Biker, standing in the room next to the main stairs.
Wasting no time, I walk right in, grab him by the front of his towel and plant a deep kiss on him. He returns m
y volley and it turns out he’s quite the kisser. Our towels fall away and we start grinding away on each other. Luxuriating in the sensation of fooling around with someone with a long, scraggly beard and who is taller than me, I lose myself in his arms. He whips out a bottle of poppers and presses it to my nose, closing the other nostril with his index finger. Inhaling deeply, I pause while he’s taking a hit and check out his dick. It’s a decent 7.5”, and on the thin side. Still, all I want is to have it buried deep in my hole. I crouch down and take his dick into my mouth as The Biker takes another long hit of poppers. I suck on him for a bit. Then he sits down on the end of the bed and sucks on my dick. He hands me the poppers and I, thinking I am about to get fucked by a biker dude, take two strong hits.
And that’s when the whole fantasy evaporates. The Biker grabs the poppers, lays back and in between hits asks me to fist fuck him.
Oops. Not going to happen. Now what? The fantasy in my head derailed, I try to think of a way out. The poppers! I go into a bit of a swoon, leaning against the frame of the doorway, claiming too many poppers have done me in. Begging off, I tell him I have to go lie down for a bit. He’s crestfallen, as am I, albeit for different reasons, but we both take it in stride. I leave him in the room and head toward the sauna again, where I sit until he joins me. There are other men in there, so it’s not all that awkward. Later, under the shower, I decide it’s time to pack up and go home. I open the door to the locker area… and my eyes lock onto a familiar figure.
He’s older than me by maybe ten years. I’m at least a foot taller than he is. His face is graced with a bushy, bushy, yellowing mustache that rivals Sam Elliot’s. Without an ounce of fat anywhere on his hairless, tight, taunt frame, he’s super thin and wiry. Our eyes meet and I know he knows I know him. And I do, but I can’t remember where. We’ve fucked before. A long time ago? The last time I was in Duluth? In Minneapolis? I’m not sure. He’s still fully clothed and opening his locker when I lay eyes on him; my plans to leave go right out the window. I stop at my locker to grab a bottle of water, say hello and hit the can. I want to make sure my hole is good and clean. While I’m cleaning up, Little Sam disrobes and walks off. My heart is racing and there is sense of urgency at hand. I need to get fucked. Please, let this be the one.
I get my poop in a group (so to speak) and grabbing what I need – poppers, condoms, and lube, make my way to the TV Room. There are other new arrivals, but I pay scant attention to them as all I want is Little Sam. I head down the hall, checking rooms as I go. Coming upon the most prized room, I stick my head in, and there he is, in the buff, all laid out… Little Sam. Only Little Sam is not so little, if you know what I mean. In his hands he holds a big old hard-on measuring on the long side of 9”. And as awesome as that is (and it is), when it comes to width Little Sam is truly blessed. Circumference-wise, Little Sam takes the prize at a hole-stretching, but still tenable 7.5”!
Walking in the room, I coyly ask, “Permission to climb aboard?” To which Little Sam
replied, “Fuck, yeah. Close the door.” And this brings us to just what is so prize-worthy about this particular room: the door locks from the inside. I do just that, drop my stuff on the little table that sits to the left of the bed, open my brand new bottle of poppers and take the biggest hit I can muster. Now considering that my heart is already racing and I am already gasping for breath at the mere thought of getting my hands, mouth and hole on this mans glorious appendage, it’s a struggle just to inhale. Needless to say, I set my butt on the edge of that bed and go down on him like a monkey on a cupcake. The poppers help me slide that big fat monster quite a way down my throat, but due to the angle and his size, I know there is no way I can accommodate it all. Something tells me Little Sam is used to this. The good thing is I have other holes that will have no trouble at all making adequate room.
Doing my best to slurp away on Little Sam’s rock hard dong, my hands keep busy checking out his arms, legs, ass, and back. Everything is as it should be. Then I make my move. I climb up and lay along the other side of his body. As I do, I also move in for a kiss. Little Sam is not big on kisses. I think the mushy stuff is a big turn-off for him. I pick up on this quick and straddling his waist, I line up the crack of my as with his cock. Relishing this moment, I scoot my ass back and forth along the length of his dick. The friction feels incredible and I can tell by the way Little Sam is raising his hips just slightly and catching my rhythm that he’s into it too.
Pausing just long enough to bend over and give him a kiss on the lips, I reach over for my lube. It’s time to bring this bad boy home. I squeeze lube onto my hole and then repeating the same back and forth motion, I lube up the one side of his dick. Once that’s accomplished I pause at the top of his dick to line up the head with my hole. I love this sensation. Pressing back just slightly, I savor the moment. Then, just as I’m about to reach over for the condoms sitting on the table, Little Sam starts to take a more active role by lifting my hips just enough so he can move the head of his cock through my sphincter. I light up like a pinball machine. The width of him causes me to lose my breath. Little Sam starts to rock underneath me and I take this as his way of telling me: no condoms. I want this fuck so badly, I concede instantly. Instead of grabbing the condoms, I grab the poppers, take a big hit and ease my hungry hole onto his dick. Each half inch is a special kind of agony and I find myself huffing poppers until I lose myself and am sitting with my ass smack dab onto his pelvis. After that I allow myself to be still, feeling all of him in all of me. My insides are throbbing as is his cock. I center my energy and will myself to rise slowly up the length of his pole. Sliding back down, I reposition my feet so they are flat, in front of me and on either side of his body. Taking a final hit of poppers, I rise up and with this newfound leverage work my way up and down his cock until I reach a fucking awesome momentum. This is what I wanted… this is what I needed to feel.
Suddenly the earth move beneath me. Little Sam is sitting up, and up and up. Before I know it, I’m on my back with my legs in the air with Little Sam between them. He slows things down at first and checks in to make sure I’m still on board. I reach for the poppers. This is different. This is hitting somewhere new. I need… to relax. I take a hit. Sam picks up speed and strength. Soon he’s pounding into me, a sensation that is not at all unpleasant. I start telling him in hushed tones how awesome it feels, to be owned by him.
Next, Little Sam takes it to a whole new level. He pushes forward, his dick still buried deep in my hole, and rolls me up onto my shoulders. He is now standing on the bed. Using my outstretched legs as a means of control and balance, he begins to pile drive my ass. My neck is bent and I’m a tad uncomfortable, but unable to deter Little Sam from assaulting me. I feel like I am being crushed into mush when Little Sam tells me he’s about to cum. With an evil shudder, he brings his whole weight down upon me and then holds still. I feel his organ expand and contract, filling me with his hot cum. I’d
been working my own dick the whole time and even though I am not fully hard, I manage to send my own juices spilling out, hitting me in the face, some of it dropping into my open mouth.
Spent, Little Sam climbs off of me and lies on the bed once more. I fall to my side and almost off the bed, before righting myself in order to get my bearings. Little Sam is not big on kisses. Little Sam is also not big on aftercare. I’m cool with that; I got what I came for. Gathering up my stuff, I lean over and give him a grateful embrace. He’s grinning from ear to ear. I tell him once more how wonderful that felt and then head to the locker area. Once I grab another bottle of water from my locker, I hit the bathroom: I got a lot of seed to expel, the sooner the better. I squeeze out what I can before douching and am a little in awe by the size of his load. After douching the first time, I go, fill the bottle and do a second douche, just to make sure. I’m doing my best to run a clean house here.
After that, even though I have a full hour and a half before I have to be at the convention center, I decide to shower, dress and leave. There’s an antique store down on the corner, at the bottom of that hill, and I will need something to show my friend in order to account for my time.
All I can say is… sure, Family Sauna is not for everyone, and the pickings can sure be slim; I have never had the opportunity to be there in the evening or on a weeknight. For me? It was time well spent. Will I be back?
Count on it.
He hits the showers and I hit the sauna. I’m cruised quite a bit for the next hour, but it always seems to be by someone with a paunch or someone on the elderly side of life. So I spend a good hour sitting on the futon that afternoon, staring at the old, rough textured walls. Making a game of it, I try to discern faces and figures amidst the contrasting contours in the wall’s make-up. Walking around, I discover a few things that had escaped my notice. There is a peephole in one of the rooms that looks into the locker room. It seems rather pointless, but then, if there is something happening in the room and you’re on the other side, maybe you could watch some of the action. In retrospect, Family Sauna could use a lot more of both – peepholes and action. I also discover a glory hole of sorts. Two of the rooms near the front stairs share an adjoining door. I’m sitting in one, when suddenly a beckoning finger appears and that’s when I realize what that hole in the door, just below the door knob, is for. I don’t take advantage of it, because I know what the troll on the oth
er side looks like – he’d been chasing me on and off all day. Sometimes knowing takes away all the fun of it, and sometimes knowing is a good thing.The white-haired man that had plopped down beside me on the futon earlier is still sitting on the futon when he isn’t sitting in the actual sauna. As the day progresses I also notice that his towel is revealing more and more each time he sits on the futon. I know he’s playing with himself, but he’s very shy about it whenever I pass by. I do find him attractive; his body’s good, and his face sharp and distinguished. What the hell, I think; nothing else is going on, so I plop my ass down next to him. We pass another ten minutes or so playing “I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours.” His dick is, like his face; classic, with a touch of prettiness. When he first reveals his full dick to me I’m quite awed by what accompanies it. His balls are wrapped in this big, heavy, chrome weight that serves as a ball stretcher. Recently I’ve been experimenting with the sensation of having my balls confined and stretched. There’s something really intense about it, and seeing this taken to the extreme this gentleman has taken it, I find myself really aroused. He lets me play with the weight a little. I can see the pleasure/pain that each bobble and pull causes him as it registers, not only on his face, but also in the texture, color and size of his dick. His dick seems to pulse with excitement, his pee hole opening as if it were gasping for air. Just as I’m leaning in for a taste of his cock, off it shoots with a great arching volley of jizz, followed by another and another… man, I think, this dude’s prostate must be in excellent condition.
It’s a kick and a half watching this man ejaculate. The combination of expressions that washed across his face – fear, pain, pleasure, joy, repeat, repeat – is totally hot to witness. After his eighth and final spurt, an embarrassed smile spreads across his face and he apologizes(!) profusely. “I’ve been playing with myself all day”, he says. I tell him that had I known that I would have stopped by to help him out sooner. Ah, my loss. We make some small talk as I continue to play with his balls and I asked him questions about where he purchased the chrome weight, is it difficult to put on, etc. He indulges me for a bit, then wrapping himself up off he goes to the sauna, chrome weight still in place. Relishing my experience, I stay put on the futon until a couple of unsavory types – an Asian dwarf type and an obese, hairless young man - start hitting on me. Then I go join the white-haired man with the chrome weight in the Sauna.
Sitting opposite him is a tall, thin man with a long beard. He looks like a biker, as in motorcycle gang. The condition of his body tells the rest of his story. He’s definitely the victim of some kind of wasting – probably HIV related. His arms and legs are all gnarly muscle, while his tummy area is a tad distended. Still, there’s something hot about him – probably having to do with my fantasy about him being a biker. Maybe it’s the beard. The white-haired man leaves, allowing The Biker and me some privacy. As I sit in the heat, my towel open, I cup my balls and dick with one hand and play with my hole with the other. He may have HIV, but I have condoms. My actions don’t go unnoticed and soon he reveals his dick. As I suspected, it’s long and thin – just like his face and nose. We watch each other intently until a gigantic, obese man rolls in and plops his ass between us. I’m up like a shot and hit the showers. The Biker doesn’t follow and I’m thinking, oh, well, maybe he’s just here for the Sauna. I dry myself, for the umpteenth time that day and head off for the futon. On the way, I stop, grab some quarters and treat myself to Coke. I drink the soda. Time passes, I’m bored. I get up and walk down the hall toward the front steps… when I catch sight of The Biker, standing in the room next to the main stairs.
Wasting no time, I walk right in, grab him by the front of his towel and plant a deep kiss on him. He returns m
y volley and it turns out he’s quite the kisser. Our towels fall away and we start grinding away on each other. Luxuriating in the sensation of fooling around with someone with a long, scraggly beard and who is taller than me, I lose myself in his arms. He whips out a bottle of poppers and presses it to my nose, closing the other nostril with his index finger. Inhaling deeply, I pause while he’s taking a hit and check out his dick. It’s a decent 7.5”, and on the thin side. Still, all I want is to have it buried deep in my hole. I crouch down and take his dick into my mouth as The Biker takes another long hit of poppers. I suck on him for a bit. Then he sits down on the end of the bed and sucks on my dick. He hands me the poppers and I, thinking I am about to get fucked by a biker dude, take two strong hits.And that’s when the whole fantasy evaporates. The Biker grabs the poppers, lays back and in between hits asks me to fist fuck him.
Oops. Not going to happen. Now what? The fantasy in my head derailed, I try to think of a way out. The poppers! I go into a bit of a swoon, leaning against the frame of the doorway, claiming too many poppers have done me in. Begging off, I tell him I have to go lie down for a bit. He’s crestfallen, as am I, albeit for different reasons, but we both take it in stride. I leave him in the room and head toward the sauna again, where I sit until he joins me. There are other men in there, so it’s not all that awkward. Later, under the shower, I decide it’s time to pack up and go home. I open the door to the locker area… and my eyes lock onto a familiar figure.
He’s older than me by maybe ten years. I’m at least a foot taller than he is. His face is graced with a bushy, bushy, yellowing mustache that rivals Sam Elliot’s. Without an ounce of fat anywhere on his hairless, tight, taunt frame, he’s super thin and wiry. Our eyes meet and I know he knows I know him. And I do, but I can’t remember where. We’ve fucked before. A long time ago? The last time I was in Duluth? In Minneapolis? I’m not sure. He’s still fully clothed and opening his locker when I lay eyes on him; my plans to leave go right out the window. I stop at my locker to grab a bottle of water, say hello and hit the can. I want to make sure my hole is good and clean. While I’m cleaning up, Little Sam disrobes and walks off. My heart is racing and there is sense of urgency at hand. I need to get fucked. Please, let this be the one.
I get my poop in a group (so to speak) and grabbing what I need – poppers, condoms, and lube, make my way to the TV Room. There are other new arrivals, but I pay scant attention to them as all I want is Little Sam. I head down the hall, checking rooms as I go. Coming upon the most prized room, I stick my head in, and there he is, in the buff, all laid out… Little Sam. Only Little Sam is not so little, if you know what I mean. In his hands he holds a big old hard-on measuring on the long side of 9”. And as awesome as that is (and it is), when it comes to width Little Sam is truly blessed. Circumference-wise, Little Sam takes the prize at a hole-stretching, but still tenable 7.5”!
Walking in the room, I coyly ask, “Permission to climb aboard?” To which Little Sam
replied, “Fuck, yeah. Close the door.” And this brings us to just what is so prize-worthy about this particular room: the door locks from the inside. I do just that, drop my stuff on the little table that sits to the left of the bed, open my brand new bottle of poppers and take the biggest hit I can muster. Now considering that my heart is already racing and I am already gasping for breath at the mere thought of getting my hands, mouth and hole on this mans glorious appendage, it’s a struggle just to inhale. Needless to say, I set my butt on the edge of that bed and go down on him like a monkey on a cupcake. The poppers help me slide that big fat monster quite a way down my throat, but due to the angle and his size, I know there is no way I can accommodate it all. Something tells me Little Sam is used to this. The good thing is I have other holes that will have no trouble at all making adequate room.Doing my best to slurp away on Little Sam’s rock hard dong, my hands keep busy checking out his arms, legs, ass, and back. Everything is as it should be. Then I make my move. I climb up and lay along the other side of his body. As I do, I also move in for a kiss. Little Sam is not big on kisses. I think the mushy stuff is a big turn-off for him. I pick up on this quick and straddling his waist, I line up the crack of my as with his cock. Relishing this moment, I scoot my ass back and forth along the length of his dick. The friction feels incredible and I can tell by the way Little Sam is raising his hips just slightly and catching my rhythm that he’s into it too.
Pausing just long enough to bend over and give him a kiss on the lips, I reach over for my lube. It’s time to bring this bad boy home. I squeeze lube onto my hole and then repeating the same back and forth motion, I lube up the one side of his dick. Once that’s accomplished I pause at the top of his dick to line up the head with my hole. I love this sensation. Pressing back just slightly, I savor the moment. Then, just as I’m about to reach over for the condoms sitting on the table, Little Sam starts to take a more active role by lifting my hips just enough so he can move the head of his cock through my sphincter. I light up like a pinball machine. The width of him causes me to lose my breath. Little Sam starts to rock underneath me and I take this as his way of telling me: no condoms. I want this fuck so badly, I concede instantly. Instead of grabbing the condoms, I grab the poppers, take a big hit and ease my hungry hole onto his dick. Each half inch is a special kind of agony and I find myself huffing poppers until I lose myself and am sitting with my ass smack dab onto his pelvis. After that I allow myself to be still, feeling all of him in all of me. My insides are throbbing as is his cock. I center my energy and will myself to rise slowly up the length of his pole. Sliding back down, I reposition my feet so they are flat, in front of me and on either side of his body. Taking a final hit of poppers, I rise up and with this newfound leverage work my way up and down his cock until I reach a fucking awesome momentum. This is what I wanted… this is what I needed to feel.
Suddenly the earth move beneath me. Little Sam is sitting up, and up and up. Before I know it, I’m on my back with my legs in the air with Little Sam between them. He slows things down at first and checks in to make sure I’m still on board. I reach for the poppers. This is different. This is hitting somewhere new. I need… to relax. I take a hit. Sam picks up speed and strength. Soon he’s pounding into me, a sensation that is not at all unpleasant. I start telling him in hushed tones how awesome it feels, to be owned by him.
Next, Little Sam takes it to a whole new level. He pushes forward, his dick still buried deep in my hole, and rolls me up onto my shoulders. He is now standing on the bed. Using my outstretched legs as a means of control and balance, he begins to pile drive my ass. My neck is bent and I’m a tad uncomfortable, but unable to deter Little Sam from assaulting me. I feel like I am being crushed into mush when Little Sam tells me he’s about to cum. With an evil shudder, he brings his whole weight down upon me and then holds still. I feel his organ expand and contract, filling me with his hot cum. I’d
been working my own dick the whole time and even though I am not fully hard, I manage to send my own juices spilling out, hitting me in the face, some of it dropping into my open mouth.Spent, Little Sam climbs off of me and lies on the bed once more. I fall to my side and almost off the bed, before righting myself in order to get my bearings. Little Sam is not big on kisses. Little Sam is also not big on aftercare. I’m cool with that; I got what I came for. Gathering up my stuff, I lean over and give him a grateful embrace. He’s grinning from ear to ear. I tell him once more how wonderful that felt and then head to the locker area. Once I grab another bottle of water from my locker, I hit the bathroom: I got a lot of seed to expel, the sooner the better. I squeeze out what I can before douching and am a little in awe by the size of his load. After douching the first time, I go, fill the bottle and do a second douche, just to make sure. I’m doing my best to run a clean house here.
After that, even though I have a full hour and a half before I have to be at the convention center, I decide to shower, dress and leave. There’s an antique store down on the corner, at the bottom of that hill, and I will need something to show my friend in order to account for my time.
All I can say is… sure, Family Sauna is not for everyone, and the pickings can sure be slim; I have never had the opportunity to be there in the evening or on a weeknight. For me? It was time well spent. Will I be back?
Count on it.
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