I Was Cowboyed In The Steam Room
Jan 26th, 2024 by Holiday
My wife and I once lived on the 12th floor of the Dorchester Apartments, on the western edge of Forest Park. From our balcony, we enjoyed an impressive view of the foremost grounds in St. Louis.
During this period, I was the chief copywriter for a medium-sized advertising agency in the downtown area. My wife worked as a secretary for a small, yet prestigious law firm. At the time we had no children. This was really for the best, since our lifestyle was not entirely conventional.
My wife was bisexual and occasionally slept with other women. I accepted her need for females; I loved women, too. Yet to her credit, my wife’s liaisons were discreet and usually occurred when I was at the office, working late.
One evening, when I was certain my wife already had plans with a current female lover, I pursued my own agenda. I decided to go bar-hopping along Euclid Avenue, in the Central West End.
The idea of bisexuality had a vague appeal. A half-dozen men approached me during college days, and performed oral sex on me. In those days, anyone who sucked my cock was an easy friend – female or male, but I wasn’t bisexual. I wasn’t a load-swallower, so I wasn’t queer, either.
However, this night I turned a page. Everyone recognizes the instance. A door opens, and one step over the threshold and there’s no going back.
I pub-crawled my way through three or four trendy watering holes, and then found myself at the edge of the chic neighborhood. What lay beyond was a world of derelict apartments and store-front tabernacles, where old Negro winos sat relegated like mice in the gaping doorways.
The Call of the Wild, the Lou Reed styled take a-walk-on-the-wild-side beat, emanated from Club St. Louis, located in the basement of the nearby seedy Washington Hotel, a favorite haunt for the city’s many inverts.
The Washington Hotel … how funny, in a way.
A beloved icon of our national myth: Commander in Chief of the Continental Army and first President under the U.S. Constitution, inspiration for the nation’s capitol, namesake of a state, countless streets, towns and counties – and, apparently, a flophouse hotel that offered gays a place to cruise for hot cock.
What would the Father of Our Country say about his deviant sons?
I stepped into this world with appropriate apprehension. I wanted to be here … but I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to face things about myself …. yet I really didn’t want to admit a certain truth.
I exchanged my street clothes for a skimpy white towel and began my education.
Tags: gay, sex