Remember when I went with my husband to an event at a longtime-local-institution bar called Naked Night? Last night I went back again, again with my husband—and this time I actually got naked, and I played with a couple of guys in that small nook area in the middle of the back hallway.
You may recall that, when I went back in March, my husband got naked, but I did not. It was March, so I was not only dressed, but in layers: a regular outfit, a scarf, a pea coat. I saw guys making out and tugging on each other's cocks in random places around the bar, and even saw one guy getting sucked off in that back-hallway nook space, and still, quite naively, I thought I had the sense that that was about as crazy as it got. Boy was I wrong.
I saw multiple people straight up fucking in the bar last night, and not even just in that back hallway nook space. I'd have either fucked or been fucked myself if I had the chance, but instead I had two different guys suck my cock for extended periods of time. These both happened in the back hallway nook, with my husband there, which would make this the first time he and I have ever played with other people while we were together. And we have been together 21 years. He even bare fucked an incredibly hot young man with long, curly brown hair who was wearing a cock cage. It was kind of wrong, but incredibly hot. My husband had some difficulty staying hard, which he said was due to the angle: the guy was taller than him. But, my husband also has a long track record of varying degrees of erectile dysfunction. He even took five of his pills prescribed for this before we went out, he told me later.
I've covered this before on this blog, how widespread it seems to be that gay men I would love to fuck me can't keep an erection going. So many guys out there can't keep it up, and I kind of have the opposite problem: sometimes I can't keep it down. I even took a bit of strategic action around this yesterday, as I was afraid I would be rock hard the moment I took my shorts off at the bag check at the bar, for no other reason than this being a totally new experience and environment for me. Well, not totally new—but my first time getting naked in this environment, with tons of other naked men, many of them stunning, around me. Anyway, I jerked off in the bathroom while I was at work—watching a very effective video in which a dom ties the ends of an anal hook and a hook into the sub's nostrils toward each other, then pisses on him, all over his back and in his hair, then smears his face in the puddle—with the idea that maybe I wouldn't be too turned on too quickly at the bar.
So much for that! I mean, I actually did okay when we first took off our clothes and then checked our bags. My husband and I both had gotten free strap pouches at a booth at Pride, so we had something to carry our valuables with us even as we walked around otherwise nude. We got in line at the bar—where the bartenders were not nude, but they all had small briefs on, one of them in a thong—and my husband ordered himself a beer and he ordered me the Moscow Mule I asked for. As we stood in line, I could feel my cock getting into "semi" mode, and I did what I could to keep from getting a raging hard-on just standing in line. A couple of super hot guys were making out against the wall nearby, tugging on each other's cocks. How does everyone else just walk around flaccid in this environment? I must be a real anomaly, less than a year from 50 and actually struggling not to get an erection and not the other way around.
We got our drinks, and we did a loop around the bar. We stopped briefly by the back hallway nook for the first time, and a couple of people were getting sucked off. I started getting hard immediately. After a few minutes my husband suggested we walk around the bar again, and I was like: "Even if I'm so hard?" He said no one would care, and that it would go down quickly. I felt kind of strange walking around with a hard cock where no one was actually playing, but my husband was right about it going down within a few minutes. Well, mostly.
There's a slightly elevated section of the bar at its far north end, to the left right after you walk in the entrance. It's up maybe three steps, and there is bar seating you can sit at, and look over the crowd at the rest of the bar. We went up there, and as there were two empty stools at the closest end of the counter, I sat there with my drink.
This was where things got really interesting. There was a somewhat older guy, not even especially fit (not at all fat either though), sitting at a stool against the wall behind us—the wall was maybe four or five feet from the stools we were seated on—kind of holding court: over pups. As in, guys in pup-play gear, mostly leather pup masks. One or two of them had cock cages on (I saw a surprising number of cock cages there last night, actually). One of them was so well hung I could hardly believe it, and he wasn't even hard. A particular pup would spend extended stretches leaned against the older guy (their master? I haven't a clue), who was fingering the pup's hole as they faced each other, the pup resting his face on the guy's shoulder.
Naturally I got hard again. This was very hot to watch. As was the couple of times one of the pups would turn around and present their ass to the older guy, who would indeed oblige and fuck them. But other times, other guys passing by would casually fuck one of these pups for a minute or two. That happened at least two or three times.
After my visit in March, I assumed you'd only see sucking at this event. I also learned last night that some other bars have "Naked Nights" too, but how permissive they are about sexual activity seems to vary. This one, located in my city's historically queer neighborhood, clearly tolerates far more than just sucking, and not in the most secluded locations. To be fair (sort of?), I didn't see any really overt sex play out in the main floor area of the bar, at least not any more significant than making out while tugging cocks. The actual sucking and fucking, I only saw either on this raised area to the far north end of the bar, or in the back hallway nook space. A guy did tell me later, his name was Brandon (I'll get back to him), that there is another bar on the south end of town that has Naked Nights, but you might get kicked out of you start playing in the middle of the bar. "You have to have sex in the bathrooms there," he said.
I also had a conversation with Brandon about how often he comes to these Naked Nights, and it was clear he comes to a lot of them. I told him this was my first time getting naked at one, but I do go to the bathhouse a lot. He told me he's only been to a bathhouse once, and he found it to be like "low-rent Grindr" and that the other people around were too old. There's a lot more we could have gotten into there, but I can say this here: only one visit to a bathhouse is not enough to judge how well it's going to work for you in the long run—I love them, and even though last night was free except for the drinks (no cover charge!), which makes the bathhouse far more expensive, I still prefer having access to an actual room. Also, Brandon's one visit to a bathhouse was to the one I never go to, and which has a reputation for older clientele. He should go to Steamworks on a Friday or Saturday night. I'd say he might change his tune, but he clearly had his mind set on his opinion on bathhouses.
I will say this: condom use, while hardly universal, is far more prevalent at a bathhouse than at a bar. I didn't see a single condom last night.
I did have an interesting thing happen while I was sitting at the bar seating near the fuck-pups. While my husband had gone to do a loop on his own—with my blessing—a very attractive guy who had to have been in his early thirties came up to me, and asked me if I play video games. I do not, so I did not recognize the character when he told me I look like "Astarion" from Baldur's Gate. He pulled up photos on his phone. I could sort of see it, even though I'm not nearly as hot. It was definitely about the hair: I do have a very nice looking head of gray hair, at a similar length.
The guy told me the character is "a sexy vampire." Then he said, "So now you can go up to people and stab them in the face! I bet you've never had anyone say that to you in a bar." I agreed: "That is a new one."
I have no idea if the guy was into me otherwise. It was a very friendly exchange, but felt like that was the only point of it. He did introduce himself to me and I can't remember his name (Brian? maybe not), but he kind of bid me farewell and moved on.
Anyway. Last night took me a while to warm up, but next time I think I will get into the action a lot more quickly. When I wrote about this in March, I said this event goes very much under the radar—and I suppose it still does, but I learned it's consistently on the second Monday of every month. I'll have to mark my calendar. Apparently they do an extra one, on a Saturday, any time there is a fifth Saturday in a month. There's one of those next month! But we have dinner plans an hour outside of town that evening so it will be tricky.
My husband was back for a bit while I nursed my drink, then he wandered off again. This time I decided I would go back to that back-hallway nook as well. I wound up right behind my husband, and from this point forward we hung out, and played, in that nook space.
Two men were there who my husband knew from his monthly potlucks with The Olympians, the nudist group which meets at each other's homes and also have sex in other parts of their houses. This was how my own play participation started, actually: this guy with glasses and a large belly, who had just been introduced me, started tugging on my cock and said, "May I?" How polite. I said, "Mmmhmm," and he knelt down and sucked me off for a bit.
While we were later walking home my husband said, "Everybody loves your cock, they want you to fuck them." I quipped, "Yeah, it's my cross to bear." He knows full well I prefer to be fucked. Neither happened for me last night, I only got sucked. I'm not sure by exactly how many people. Three, maybe four. Only two for a long while. I had to contemplate this later: how to count how many people I "had sex" with at this event? I never came, and neither did anyone sucking me off, and that's usually my threshold for the official count. "Usually" is the operative word there, and two different guys spent such a long time sucking my cock that I think they both deserve to get counted. Plus, cum was at least part of the experience in one case: there was a tall, thin, young guy on his knees who spent so much time sucking every cock he could get into his mouth that I was in awe of him. He started this well before my husband and I even sat for a while at the raised bar seating, and once I came over to him, the guy gave my cock a lot of special attention. My mouth would never be able to take that kind of strain. This guy should be in the Cocksucking Olympics. Anyway, when my husband was ready, he jerked off until he came right on this guy's chest, and this was in the middle of the young guy going back and forth between sucking me off and sucking off Brandon.
After a while, the young guy finally needed a break and he stood up, revealing how tall he was. He was super cute too, with a thin line of smeared cum across one of his pecks—my husband's cum. It was incredibly hot.
It was before any of that even happened, though, that I had my first extended period of getting sucked off. I was standing to the right, where I had accidentally knocked over my cocktail on the counter there, which was a bit embarrassing. No one else seemed to pay it any mind at all. It did waste at least a third of my one cocktail, though, maybe half of it. Oh well. Anyway, this was around the time my husband was fucking the hot guy with light brown curly hair and a cock cage, on the other side of a couple of people from me. A short man with a close-cropped beard and a harness on slowly walked by in the hallway, and when he paused and I made eye contact, pretty quickly he came over to me.
I seem to have relative success with short guys. If you're hot, I truly don't care how tall you are, and it boggles my mind how many people think of shortness as a deal breaker. This guy had wonderful pecs, a beautiful face, short black hair—he was checking a lot of my boxes. His cock, while having less girth than mine (most do, especially if they are not any longer than mine), was quite nice. I'd have loved to suck it, but never quite got the chance to. There was a moment when my husband, quite unnecessarily and quite unsolicited, suggested I fuck the guy. "I'm not a bottom," he said. This gave me a flicker of hope, and then he said, "I just love sucking cock." I replied: "You're very good at it." Because he was.
The entire experience with this guy was hot as hell. I loved the way he would gently pull on my balls, the way he would look up at me while sucking, and especially when he looked up at me while I just grazed his tongue with the end of my cock, caressing his tongue and mouth with it. I was sucked off by this guy even longer than the much sluttier other guy did, but they both did spend a lot of time on my very popular cock.
God, I love sex. Have I mentioned that? Gay sex is the best. And to be free to be my authentically slutty self—that is the best of all. I envied that younger slut. He got a far greater head start at it than I ever did, having been deeply repressed until I lost my virginity to my husband at age 28, and then we opened our relationship when I was 34. That was 15 years ago. So with these two new guys added from last night, how many guys have I had sex with, officially? *checks notes* 282! (My total for anal sex is the same as it was before: 205. Still impressive! Maybe I can crack 1000 before I die.)
I actually tried to cum in the young slut's mouth, by the way. But, not being a top by nature, and having already cum earlier in the day, this was a challenge. I got about halfway there a couple of times but never got closer than that. Plus, my husband and I had already said we would head home around 9:45, and once he came, somewhat rudely I thought, he was all ready to go. He kept asking if I was ready to cum, which isn't as simple a question as it sounds. He also held up his phone to show that it was now 10:02, and this was actually fair because I had to work today and I am way too old to be out super late on a week night.
At this point, I was in the middle of a chat with the aforementioned Brandon, who had also sucked my cock a couple of different times. Now we were talking about bathhouses, and the age of the clientele. I said, "At the bathhouse I'm one of the older ones." He wouldn't have that, and didn't believe I was older. "How old do you think I am?" I asked. He said, "Thirties?" I laughed and said, "I love to hear that!" So then Brandon asked me how old I thought he was, and I also guessed in this thirties. He seemed younger to me—unlike me, for instance, he still had fully dark hair. (I was blond before, but you know what I mean.) When I guessed thirties for him, he said, "I love you!" and embraced me. I think he may have been a little drunk. Anyway so then I said, "Okay, maybe early forties?"
I was genuinely surprised when he said he was 47. He had a far better body than most men in their late forties. It was hardly perfect, but it had some solid muscle to it, particularly in the pecs. I told him I was 49, and he was kind of delighted: "We're in the same boat!"
It was around this time that my husband showed me the time, and I finally told Brandon, "I gotta go." He was in the middle of telling me how cute I am, everyone thinks I'm hot (clearly not even objectively true), blah blah blah. I had mentioned how lots of guys at bathhouses have no interest in me, and he acted like he couldn't believe it. I suppose it's fair to note, as I write this right now, how getting action seems to have been easier as of late. I don't know what changed though. I'm certainly "soft," as one other guy said to me about both my husband and me—"But in a sexy way," he said. Uh, thanks? That guy spent a couple of minutes tugging my hair while the slut was sucking me off and I loved it.
I finally pulled myself away from Brandon, who kept talking even more when I first said I had to go, and my husband and I went to get our bag with our clothes. And would you believe it, the most interesting thing of the entire evening happened at the bag check when we were leaving—the guy at the counter, a tall, hairy guy with a beard who looked pretty fit, flirted with me hard.
Any kind of flirting can often be lost on me, because I never assume anyone would be prone to flirting with me. But this guy was beyond obvious about it, though it still took a minute for me to register it. The first thing that happened was when he said, "May I?" or something to that effect—not to suck my cock in this case, but to take my hand and admire my long fingernails. He didn't even realize at first that they were real, and when he did realize that, he was even more impressed. He took my hand in his and was very kind of sensual about it.
He also noticed my ring. "That's a wedding ring," I said. "I got it from him!" And I pointed to my husband, who was on the other side of a small, narrow table stand that stood perpendicular to the bag check counter. The guy holding my hand registered my husband and said, "Oh, excuse me!" in a very apologetic tone. It was adorable, and I didn't see why he should even worry about it. What did he think we were there for?
We finished our exchange with the guy actually pulling my hand to his mouth and kissing it. It felt like kind of a strange place to experience such a deeply romantic gesture, but that was still what it felt like. It was deeply charming. He asked us both about our jobs while we slipped our underwear and shorts back on, so the friendly chatting continued for a bit. I'd have been happy continuing to talk to that guy under any other circumstance, but I needed to get home and get to bed.
My husband felt strongly that we should both take Doxy PEP when we got home. I never saw this, but my husband was certain he saw blood on Brandon's mouth at one point, and that there was some on his penis when he went into the bathroom to wash it off. I would have hoped my husband would take Doxy regardless, given his bareback fucking of the hot guy in the cock cage, but I mever think of just oral sex as "high risk." My husband was really worried about what he thought was blood, though, so we both took the pills when we got home.
There was a point during our time there, my husband introduced me to yet a third guy he knows from The Olympians. (Now that guy was older. Late fifties at least, I would guess.) This guy quipped, "I'm not sure there's any other place you can be where there are so many penises per square foot." I chuckled at him politely, but did not bother to mention Steamworks on a late Saturday night. This bar might still win out, especially by virtue of no one at the bar even wearing a towel, but Steamworks can be quite comparable in terms of crowds at the right time. The benefit of Naked Night at the bar, though, in addition to it having no entry fee, is that it's plenty crowded far earlier.
My husband and I did chat for a few minutes with a guy earlier in the evening at the elevated section to the side of the bar, who said he had arrived right around 7:00, when Naked Night officially begins. Most people there were still clothed, he said, and he gradually took clothes off over the next hour: just his shirt at first, then his pants, then the underwear. We got there around 9:00 in March and it was incredibly crowded; we got there shortly after 8:00 this time and it was barely less crowded. Maybe we should aim for 7:30 next time!
When we left, two guys walked in the door already buck naked. I was like: "Did they just walk here from home naked?" My husband assumed they did; our city does not criminalize public nudity. I do wonder if at the very least they live close by, as I have never seen anyone just casually strolling through town in the nude when it wasn't something like World Naked Bike Ride or whatever. There's something titillating about the idea of walking the distance there from home—0.8 miles—in the nude. But as much as my horizons have broadened, that will never happen. Checking clothes at the bar for five bucks is easier.
Anyway, we walked home, took the Doxy, and I got ready for bed. I never did get to cum while we were out, so even though I already had while at work earlier in the day, I got into bed and jerked off. I watched a video of a young twink getting bukkake and then making out with other guys with cum all over his mouth and face. That got me off pretty quick, and I came pretty hard. Finally gotten the moment of satisfactory release that I wanted, I zonked out.
