Ben Is Searching for Sex

I'd just polished off my plate of bacon and eggs when my Uncle Don spoke up from behind his newspaper.

"Listen to this Bennie. They went to all that trouble to make them homosexuals legal, and now the poofs are making a nuisance of themselves in gentlemen's saunas all over London. It says so, right here in the Sunday Express. Disgusting, I call it."

Thankfully, before I had to say anything about it, Aunt Doris appeared from the kitchen with the tea pot in her hand.

"For heaven's sake, what are you reading that nasty stuff for? You don't usually get past the football results and the cricket scores. How about another cup of tea, Ben dear? And finish off that last piece of toast, my luv; a growing lad like you needs to eat up."

"You know Auntie, I'm almost twenty one, I'm pretty sure I've stopped growing."

I grinned at her while spreading marmalade on the toast, praying that the subject of homosexuals-behaving-badly had been dropped. But as she came around to sit beside my uncle, my aunt glanced at the paper in his hands.

"I don't know what they should do about those poor boys. If they can't find a nice girl to sort them out, maybe the government should put them somewhere to cure them. But still, I don't want to be talking about them on a nice morning like this, and neither does my favourite nephew."

She was right about me not wanting to talk about the subject; after all, there was no way I was going to admit to being one of those "poor boys" she wanted to be sent off to be cured!

"Come on Auntie, the only reason I'm your favourite nephew is because I'm the only one you've got! All the others are nieces."

As I hoped, that steered her off the dangerous topic of homosexuality and onto to the safe topic of my sisters and my female cousins.

I was staying with one of my Mum's sisters and her husband for a quiet week's holiday in the seaside resort of Bournemouth before returning for my second year at university. What I daren't tell my middle-aged aunt was what had happened during my first year. I'd been introduced to the wonders of man-to-man sex; and not just to the delights of sucking and fucking; but to the overwhelming excitement of being mastered and dominated.

In contrast to what my innocent Aunt Doris thought about homosexuality, I was certain that the last thing I needed was a cure. The reason I couldn't tell my aunt and uncle the truth about myself, even though they were two of my favourite people, was that this was happening in 1971, when gay liberation was mostly a fantasy in the minds of a few idealistic men and women. All an average person ever heard about gay men came in the form of hostile trash like the "investigative journalism" Don had just been reading. I was able to share my reality with them some years later, but in the meantime I had to tread carefully with talk of the "nice girls" I'd met at college.

Listening with half an ear to Aunt Doris nattering on about my Cousin Jacqueline's new baby, I waited for the moment Uncle Don would put down the paper and head upstairs to the bathroom for his morning "sit-down". Thankfully I didn't have to wait long, and while Doris cleared the table, refusing my help as always, I disappeared into their sitting room with the Sunday Express under my arm.

The thing is, I'd run out of available partners back at the small city where my university was situated. A law passed four years previously had decriminalized homosexual activity between two men, but not for those under twenty one. My twenty-first birthday wasn't for another six months, which was particularly maddening whenever I was forced to listen to straight classmates boast about banging their sixteen year old girlfriends.

Most of the guys I'd had sex with in the past year had been strangers in town who hadn't worried too much about being caught with an eager young bloke. But since there'd been some police activity concerning teenagers and because I looked my age, most of the regulars at the weekly gay night at a local pub had been keeping their distance. Meanwhile I was afraid to approach fellow students at the university; worried I might give myself away to a potential homophobe.

A summer of nothing but law-enforced celibacy and bedtime wanking while at home with my parents got me thinking about a trip to the big city, where I might find a masterful stranger to take me in hand. Getting up to London was easy enough, but where should I look for men once I got there? Was the answer in the Sunday Express?

I turned to the "sauna disgrace" story and raced through its pages looking for helpful hints. Full of staged, phony photos, loaded language and hostile opinionating, the story was short on facts and vague on details. The only thing it told me was what my Uncle Don had already said; saunas were good places to find other gay men. I knew of no such establishments in my small university city, so I promised myself, right there in Don and Doris's sitting room, that I'd find one in London the first chance I got.

Luckily for me, the way my classes worked out in the new term meant that I was free every second Friday. Since it was only an hour and a half by train to London, I immediately began planning my first trip. This was well before the time that railway companies began charging sky-high prices, so a ticket to Charring Cross Station on British Rail was easily affordable even to a cash-strapped student like me. I checked business directories and phone books for Central London and found the address of a sauna on St Martin's Lane, smack dab in the middle of the theatre district and close enough to the station that I could stay late and still get back in time for the last train.

When the first week of November came round, I prepared by living on soup and broth for three days, and gave myself an enema just before leaving for the first train on Friday morning. The plan was to devote the day to sight-seeing and arrive at the sauna in the late afternoon, stay for the evening, scratch my sex itch and catch the late train home.

I spent a lovely day walking along Regent Street, Oxford Street, Charring Cross Road and the Strand, checking out Trafalgar Square, the National Gallery and Whitehall, and more, obsessing the whole time about the sauna and who I'd meet there. By six o'clock I was as ready as I'd ever be and after hesitating outside for a long time, picked up my courage and walked up to the booth to pay the entrance fee. A prissy attendant gave me a thorough looking-over and asked if I'd been there before. When I admitted that this was my first time, he gave me a withering look, showed me where to find the towels, lockers and showers, and turned back to his evening paper.

I headed for the lockers, took off my clothes, showered, wrapped a towel around me and wandered around, looking the place over. It was quite impressive, seemingly having been built in the nineteen twenties or thirties, with a swimming pool on the lower level and dry, wet saunas and steam rooms upstairs.

The other customers were a pretty nondescript crowd, and none of them resembled the kind of sexy mature man I was looking for. Opening the door to the dry sauna, I found three badly overweight older men, with massive stomachs that hid their genitals from view. When I entered they dropped their discussion of the stock market and talked sports instead, with one staring so openly at me that even my untrained gaydar warned me that I was being cruised.

Not to be too immodest, but it wasn't too surprising that he liked me. After all, I was at least thirty years younger than he was; I was tall and slim with wide shoulders and long legs, plenty of dark hair, bright blue eyes, big balls and a decent-sized uncut cock. Things he'd mostly lost over the years or never had in the first place!

While he stared at me with a smarmy grin on his face, his friends turned from discussing Arsenal's chances in the League that year to talking about the West Indian cricket team, repeating the worst kind of racist slurs. That pissed me off and I went to try my luck in the wet sauna instead. That was no better; no racist talk, just a bunch of dreary-looking business men sweating away on the benches. If any of them were gay, I didn't care.

Disappointed, I tried the steam room, figuring on one last try before giving up and heading for a final wander around town and an early train. The steam was thick and clingy, but through the wet haze I glimpsed a skinny older man down on his knees in front of a tall, slim body. Unfortunately, my arrival startled the cocksucker and he immediately scrambled to his feet and raced out of the room, hiding his face from me. After muttering "Ah, bugger it, the stupid old poofter", the tall, slim person strode out after him in a swirl of steam. I hung around for a few minutes, waiting for someone else to enter, but since I was already overheated from the time spent in the saunas, I soon began to feel faint.

Giving up on my steam room vigil, I headed for the shower room, where the slim-bodied younger man from the steam room was standing under the jets. He seemed to recognize me in turn, grinning in response to my nervous smile. Once he turned off the water and wrapped his towel back round his middle, I took the opportunity to apologize for interrupting things earlier. He just shook his head and smiled.

"No worries, mate; not your fault. It's these frightened old queens, they drive me up the wall. They're still scared of their own shadow. You'd never know homo sex is legal now; they still act like they're going to get nicked like Oscar bloody Wilde."

He told me the only reason he still turned up was because it was one of the few semi-safe places where you could meet guys and maybe make dates for later. When I admitted it was my first time, he asked if I was having fun and I said definitely not. Hearing that, he winked and said it was only because I hadn't met him yet. As we chatted I found myself flirting with someone my own age; something I'd never done before. The sauna experience had been very disappointing, but this guy was different. He stood out not only from everyone else in the place, but from any gay man I'd spent time with before. He was young, he was direct and funny and very sexy; and my intense attraction to him seemed to be matched by some interest on his part.

After we'd talked for a couple of minutes, he pulled the wet towel from around his waist, showing me the rest of his naked body and his half-hard and rising cock. He was not only my age; he was also roughly my height and body shape and also blue eyed, dark haired and clean shaven. Our bodies were very similar, though his was heavier and more muscular than mine. I very much liked what I saw, and I stood in silence, staring hungrily at his cock while it grew fully erect. When I looked up from staring at his crotch, the smug grin on his face showed that he could tell how impressed I was.

"Hey, mate, are you gonna stand there all night? You're supposed to be here for a shower. People will notice if you don't get wet. "

"Sorry", I gulped, hung up my towel and turned on the shower. As my soapy hands cleaned the sauna sweat off my body, my cock rose in response to what I'd just seen across the room. With us both aroused, the most important difference between us became crystal clear; of the two uncut cocks on display, his was the longer and thicker one. I wasn't too jealous, a bigger penis would have been nice, but I was comfortable with the one I had. I'd been around a number of cocks by this time and was comfortable knowing mine was far from the smallest I'd seen.

He stared at me while I showered and once I'd finished, he took a half-dozen steps across the room, grabbed me around the waist, drew my body against his and kissed me. I responded instantly, letting my tongue explore his mouth, hardly believing my luck. Unfortunately, this exciting moment was too good to last, and was cut short far too soon.

"Oi, cut it out, you two! Behave yourselves. Its troublemaking pricks like you that put the vice squad on our tails."

The prissy attendant from the front desk had walked in with an armful of clean towels and had caught us. While I was shocked and embarrassed, my new friend took it all in stride, calmly informing the bloke he could "bugger right off" since we were leaving anyway!

I'd paid the entrance fee less than an hour before, so I didn't really want to leave so soon, but passive and easily led as ever, I got carried away in my new friend's slipstream. Fifteen minutes later I found myself dry and dressed and standing alongside him in the pub across the street. As we waited, trying to gain the barmaid's attention, I glanced at a large mirror on the opposite wall, and got confirmation of what I'd first thought back in the shower room.

The image of us both in that mirror was a striking illustration of our physical similarity. As I'd noticed earlier, even though he was more muscular, our height, slim build and basic body shape were identical, along with our matching bright blue eyes, similar short haircuts and lack of facial hair. We were even dressed alike in blue jeans and long-sleeved denim shirts.

He was as struck by it as I was when I pointed it out and it became the topic of our conversation. After he'd joked that we must be long-lost brothers, we found ourselves giving each other the details of our families and our lives. His name was Chris; he was two years older than me, he lived with his widowed Mum in the East End of London, he had two older, married brothers and had recently earnt his electrician's union card. I told him about my parents who lived in a small town in the Midlands and about my two older sisters and my life as a college student.

I was already hopelessly in lust with this sexy beast, though there was nothing I could do about it in this packed and noisy pub on a busy Friday night. With people squeezed into every corner of the place we could easily be overheard, so we steered the conversation away from sex and the sauna, settling for "bloke talk" about football and the respective clubs we supported. When I said I was a Wolverhampton Wanderers fan, he told me he followed West Ham United, and pointed out something that I already knew; the two teams were scheduled to play the following afternoon at the Hammer's Upton Park stadium.

"Hey, mate, that's great. Our house is only a mile away from the Park and I'm going to the game. If you don't have plans, you can stay overnight and watch the Wolves get hammered! "

I could hardly believe my ears; if he was offering me a bed for the night, sex must be in cards, right? The thought of going home with him was almost too exciting to contemplate. I wanted to throw my arms around him and give him a kiss right there and then, but somehow managed to keep the excitement out of my reply.

"I'd been thinking about going to that match; it was one of the reasons I chose this weekend to come up to London. Are you sure it's OK?"

He reassured me that it more than OK and we grinned at each other, looking forward to the night's possibilities while avoiding talking about them in "mixed company"!

As we delved into football trivia, I eventually tore my eyes away from mooning at him and took a glance around the room. I soon noticed something unusual about our fellow customers; there were very few women and nearly all the men were coupled-off, like us. I was still new to the gay scene, but a lot of the guys seemed pretty gay to me! When I whispered this observation to Chris, he whispered back that that he'd wondered how long it would take me to notice.

"We're in the middle of the West End, mate, the Theatre District; Shaftesbury Avenue, Leicester Square and all that. I've come in here before, and every time it's been full of out-of-work actors, chorus boys, dressers, and hairdressers, plus customers from the sauna across the street. Didn't you see them cruise us when we walked in?"

He was right, and the only defense for my blindness was that I'd been paying attention to him at the expense of everyone else around us. Now, as I glanced around at all the actor/model/waiters he asked if I'd noticed anything else.

"A lot of the guys cruising us have been looking from me to you and back again. I'll bet they're wondering if we're brothers or maybe even twins. Lots of blokes have fantasies about making out with twins. If one of them asks we should say we are and give them a thrill."

"That won't work. The minute we open our mouths, it'll give the game away. If I attempt a cockney accent, they'll know it's phony. And you'll have the same trouble with my Midlands accent. They'll know we're not brothers right away."

"You're right, but it was a good idea while it lasted."

We compared our reactions to some of the men in the pub for a few minutes, and then he drew my attention to two men on the other side of the room.

"Hey Ben, you see those two blokes in the opposite corner, one skinny and one tubby? They were doing laps in the pool before you arrived. Last time I was there, I saw Mr. Tubby give a fantastic blow job in the steam room to a guy with a real big one. He took it all the way down, no problem, and had the bloke moaning like a little girl. He got him to cum and then swallowed every last morsel. That's one champion cock sucker."

Happening to glance in that direction a few minutes later I found myself staring straight into the "champion cock sucker's" eyes. His friend must have left, since "Mr. Tubby" nodded at me and began to squeeze his way through the crows towards us. He said hello, asked our names said his was Trevor, and began a friendly conversation. A good two decades older and appreciably heavier than either of us, he had thinning blonde hair, brown eyes, and a small mustache.

We chatted about this and that, until Chris made a point of saying that he'd seen him a couple of times at the sauna, including earlier that evening. With the cards fully on the table, he proceeded to prove Chris right about the "looking like brothers business".

"When I saw you two from across the room, you looked so alike that I thought you were twins."

Chris flashed me an "I told you so" smile.

"I know; we're not related, but it's like we're identical; same height, same weight, same hair, same blue eyes. Mind you, there's one difference you only get to see if we're naked and excited."

Realizing what that implied, Trevor looked from me to Chris with a smirk on his face.

"Well, that sounds interesting. You mean one of you has a bigger one than the other? I'd like to get a tape measure out and see what the difference is."

"A tape measure's all well and good, but you'd have to get up really close to properly appreciate the difference."

"Well, speaking of close, my flat's just around the corner."

I think that up to that point he imagined all this was just a joke, since he seemed truly shocked when Chris suggested we go around to his flat to check things out. But, after getting a smile and a nod from me, he agreed. After all, it wasn't every day that even a "champion cock sucker" got the chance to make out with two well-built boys twenty years his junior, one of whom had just been boasting about his cock size!

In the meantime, even though I'd nodded my agreement to him, I was feeling a little disappointed at the way things were turning out. Even if it was going to be with a "champion cock sucker", the prospect of a threesome felt like a poor substitute for an evening alone with Chris.

Consoling myself with the prospect of the sex to come, I followed Chris's lead, something that turned out to be the recurrent theme of my entire weekend.

Trevor hadn't exaggerated. His second floor flat really was just around the corner, and five minutes later the three of us were standing in his living room and he was asking us if we'd like a drink. Chris shook his head and suggested he take his clothes off instead.

When Chris said that, I saw an apprehensive look cross Trevor's face. I figured he'd suddenly become aware of having invited two younger and bigger strangers into his home with no guarantee that he wouldn't end up being harmed. He started undressing very slowly at first, only speeding up when he saw Chris and me getting naked too. Once he saw our hard-ons pointing at him, the "champion cock sucker" knelt down, lunging at Chris's big one first, beginning some serious deep-throating.

Up to now, I'd almost always been the one on my knees with a cock in my mouth, submissively happy serving more dominant men. So it came as an exciting change to stand alongside Chris, staring down at another cock sucker. When Trevor eventually changed over and took my dick in his wet, warm mouth, I couldn't help whimpering with delight, since he proved to be just as skillful as Chris had promised. He took my balls into his warm mouth, licked under my foreskin, rolled his tongue along the length of my shaft, and finally swallowed my entire length to the back of his open throat, doing such a fabulous job that it was hard to stop myself from cumming.

After making me happy, he turned back to Chris, taking him down his throat again while using his hand to gently wank my eager dick. He spent the next few minutes alternating between sucking and wanking each of us in turn, keeping us both highly aroused. At one point, while sucking Chris, he let go of my cock and began rubbing his index finger along my taint and up into my hole. Hearing me gasp with arousal, Chris turned sideways and grabbed hold of my nipples. I answered his questioning eyebrows with an eager "Yes, please" and he immediately began squeezing and twisting both tits. Like most guys, my nipples are wired directly to my cock, so my reactions encouraged him to squeeze really hard!

The next few minutes were electric, with my tits on fire while Trevor simultaneously fingered my hole and sucked Chris's dick. Eventually, there came a moment when Trevor had got three fingers in me and Chris was biting down hard on a nipple that I grabbed hold of my cock, desperate to get myself off. But before I got very far, Chris pulled my hand away and shook his head.

"Calm down brother, don't be stupid. You'll need that cock hard if you want to fuck Trevor. That's what you want, ain't it Trev?"

Trevor grinned, mumbled his agreement and scrambled off to fetch some lube. By the time he'd returned from the bathroom, Chris had me sitting on the couch and told him to get down on all fours in front of me. Once my cock was firmly lodged back down the eager cock sucker's throat, Chris jammed a greasy finger into his bum-hole, making his entire body tremble with excitement. He was more and more aroused as two more fingers and then Chris's big cock entered him.

At one point while he was fucking Trevor, Chris leant forward and pulled me towards him for a long lingering kiss. That reduced me to a state of lusty helplessness, made worse as I watched Chris's cock go in and out of Trevor's arse, wishing it were mine being pummeled that hard. Hearing Trevor's ecstatic moans at having both holes filled with young cock did nothing to calm me down, and I got so excited that I only just managed to keep myself from coming down his throat.

To my surprise Chris beat me to the punch, shuddering with orgasmic excitement as he coated Trevor's insides with blasts of cum. His orgasm was a shock to all concerned, and I wasn't ready to follow suit quite yet, which was OK, since Chris said we should swop places.

"Trev's all greased up and loose, so you'll slide right in. And you still want some more, eh Trev? "

Hearing a muffled, "yes please, fuck me", I got off the couch, saw him lick Chris's cock clean and take it in his mouth once more, then pointed my own cock at the sloppy, cum-filled hole winking at me. Not wanting to hurt him, I intended to ease in gradually, but his hole was so loose after the battering Chris had given it, that my thinner dick glided straight on in. Trevor landed on Cloud Nine, moaning ecstatically at having two hard young dicks filling his holes once again.

After a few minutes, Chris change things around once more. Pulling out of Trevor's mouth, he rose up off the couch, knelt behind me, and slid his wet (courtesy of the super sucker) cock up and down the crack of my ass. Moving his hips in unison with mine while I fucked Trevor, he reached for the jar of Vaseline, and spent time fingering my hole, preparing me to take the cock I'd been thinking about seeing it in the showers.

Since this was what I'd been waiting for all night, I tried to keep my ass muscles relaxed as his entire length slowly but persistently worked its way into me. He was big enough that it hurt going in, but I was so eager for it that it didn't matter, and once he'd located my prostate the pain turned to pure pleasure.

Once Trevor realised his fucker was being fucked and his cock was transmitting the force of Chris's hard thrusts into him got him just as excited as I was.

We were all keen to delay the inevitable, but it wasn't long before "happy endings" began to occur. Trevor was the first to go over the edge, squirting a mess of cum onto the carpet underneath him, an orgasm so massive that his interior muscles clamped down on my cock, forcing an equal amount of my cum into his stretched-out colon. Chris had already cum inside Trevor less than fifteen minutes before, so he didn't cum this time, just kept on plundering me for a few minutes before pulling out and collapsing on my back.

The three of us lay in an exhausted pile for a while, waiting for our breath and heart rates to return to normal, before disentangling ourselves and staggering to our feet, exhausted but happy. Trevor didn't bother to put his clothes on, just dragged his tired body up onto the couch and watched us getting dressed, telling us he was ready for a repeat anytime.

Once out on the street I tagged along at Chris' side, wondering if he remembered his offer to let me stay over at his place. I began to worry when he'd said nothing about it until we were standing at the entrance to the nearest Tube station. But then he turned to me and said,

"Getting our rocks off with Trevor was fun, but I hope it's just the start of our evening. You're going to stick around, right? Not buggering off somewhere else?"

I was in heaven! He still wanted me around! Of course I wasn't buggering off anywhere! I managed to squeak out an answer.

"Oh no, please, I don't have anything else to do tonight."

I followed him onto a District Line train heading east. It was late enough in the evening that we were able to sit in a quiet corner where we wouldn't be overheard. He still spoke softly but got down to business.

"So tell me mate, it looked like you were having fun fucking Trevor just now, but, tell me if I'm wrong, you really got excited once you got fucked. Am I right?"

"Yea, it was fun to be on top for once but it did feel kind of weird. It's kind of obvious; I'm really a bottom. "

"Well, bottom boy, enjoy that memory, 'cos there's one thing you can bet on; you won't be fucking me tonight, that's for sure. Plus, you should know that I recover real quick. By the time we get home tonight I'll be raring to go. You going to be ready for me?"

"Oh yes, please."

"You really got off on tit work just now. What else do you like?"

"Anything you want to try with me. I won't object, Sir."

Smiling when I used the word Sir, he stared into my eyes, and whispered,

"It sounds like we're going to have a lot of fun. Just don't complain if you wake up bruised and sore in the morning."

Just as he said that, our train drew into Upton Park. Walking out of the station beside him, I was both super excited and very nervous. It sounded like the evening of my dreams was about to unfold. How would things go? What did he have planned? Would I please him?

These thoughts filled my brain; thankfully I didn't have to wait long for my answer.

To be continued....