I had been dating Jason for about two years when he suggested we have a threesome. Being a curious 22-year-old gay male, I was intrigued by the idea of having an erotic encounter with him and another man.
Jason was a few years older than me and had already experienced a menage a trois. Although I had been around the block several times, this was my first threesome, so I was in from the get-go. But I was unprepared for what came next.
Jason was an extrovert who loved sex. He wanted to go to a bathhouse. Don’t get me wrong—I love sex as much as the next guy, but I was still a bit conservative back then. Orgies were a turn on but I had never—ever—considered a bathhouse.
After much discussion, Jason and I left Hamilton one Friday evening and set off to have my first threesome. I was sick to my stomach. All I could imagine were old men chasing teenages—all of them naked—groping at each other in a dirty, old building.
What I saw wasn’t as bad as I imagined, but still scared me.
The bathhouse was at Yonge and Wellesley Streets. We were greeted by a cute, young boy behind a counter surrounded by a chicken wire fence. Jason told him we wanted a room and gave him $12 for an eight-hour rental. He gave us two towels, a key to our private room and buzzed us into a long, dimly lit corridor.
I prayed the men inside would be as cute and sexy as the receptionist.
The hallway was lined with doors leading into small rooms that looked like jail cells. Most doors were closed, but through the open ones I could see people lying down.
When my eyes adjusted to the dark I realized men were lying naked on their beds, waiting for someone to enter their rooms. Other couples were having sex with the door open so people could watch—having witnesses excited them.
We passed men of all ages dressed in nothing more than towels. There were beautifully built men and out-of-shape men, white collar and blue collar workers, all looking for the hottest sex they could get for $12. Or maybe they were looking for love.
We entered a room furnished with just a cot and locker and closed the door. Off came our clothes and we headed for the sauna, dressed in only our towels.
On our way to the shower room we could feel all eyes on us—we were being cruised by every horny man in sight. We were half-naked and fear melted away as I started to enjoy the attention.
In the shower area, the air was thick with hormones. All eyes turned to us as we dropped our towels. We were fresh meat. This was the best place to find a guy—a small room full of hot, naked men looking for sex.
After showering we found a third for our party. We told our new friend what we wanted and he said he was into it.
Back to our room we went.
Jason and I broke up a few years after that experience. We went back several more times and when I became single, I went a few times a month. If you couldn’t find someone at a bar, the bathhouse was a guaranteed way to get laid. As long as you play safe, it can be harmless fun.
Jerry, 29, is now looking for something more in a relationship.