A Male Whorehouse
Dec 1st, 2024 by Holiday
My ideal is marriage to a woman, with the freedom to enjoy an affair with a man. To be precise, I’d prefer that my wife and I enjoy the same male lover in an established triad. Of course most women can’t handle a bi-sexual male; this is no surprise.
I can’t easily explain my desire for sex with other men. According to society this is unnatural and taboo. On the surface this is just the way I am wired. More importantly, the desire is erratic. Some times the idea is foreign, other times I’m afflicted with an enthusiasm that demands immediate remedy.
Before we married, I was not honest with my wife about my dual nature. I should have told her, I know.When I finally revealed my tendencies, we had been married less than a month. I thought: well, if she really can’t handle this, we can bail out of this before we get in any deeper. This was horribly unfair, yet my wife accepted my disclosures in stride – at first.
In fact, my exposé – which included accounts of cruising the gay bath scene, excited her, though she professed disbelief that I actually participated in the sub-culture.For years, I resisted the allure of the gay bath scene. Club St. Louis – the most notable local choice, operated in the basement of the Washington Hotel on Kingshighway Boulevard. It seemed a dangerously seedy location.
Yet one summer I surrendered to temptation and visited regularly while involved with my live-in girlfriend. The idea of maintaining a proper facade, and taking a walk on the wild side, conspired to heighten a stimulating and forbidden sense of excitement.
My girlfriend had no idea of my depravity.
Of course a gay bath is nothing more than a male whorehouse. During this period, I checked out the scene from Chicago-to-Denver-to-San Diego. The routine was virtually the same everywhere.
Although there were many times when I stayed away from those dens of misbehavior, I experienced a lot of impious conduct – sometimes purely as a voyeur: steam rooms, private cubicles, pseudo-dungeons, glory-holes, and the notorious leather swing.
Perhaps the most outrageous episode was one Saturday afternoon at the Empire Baths in Denver.A group of aroused tops gathered in a small lounge, paired off with enthusiastic cocksucking bottoms, while a wholesome rerun of The Real McCoy’s, television’s first family-oriented, rural comedy, played on the overhead screen. The idea of Grandpappy Amos (Walter Brennan) talking to Luke (Richard Crenna) about all-American values, provided an incomparable backdrop for males giving head.
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i miss holiday, i liked the way he explained what wife swapping and the like are like.
this post quietly sums that up.