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I Know What I Want in Brussels

by Slipslave


The best part of being 52 years old is that you know what you want, and you know how to get it.

Whenever I travel to Brussels, I try and stay in a particular business hotel near the city center. The rooms are fine, but the real attraction is swimming pool and sauna on the top floor. After a cold wet winter day, there’s nothing better than some heat. Plus you get to see some skin. After being covered up in heavy clothes, coats, hats and gloves all day, the sight of bare flesh is somehow just that much more appealing.

After nearly a week of being in Brussels and the typical winter weather, an evening at the pool was definitely on the agenda.

I thought I’d start out with swimming a few laps in the pool. My military background instilled a work ethic in me and I liked to keep in shape. Over the years I’ve found a firm body helps you get what you want when it comes to man-to-man sex, and I’m all man - bald head, brown eyes, heavy beard stubble, hairy chest and legs, well-defined pecs, flat stomach, standing just under 6 feet tall and a solid 175 pounds.

Passing through the locker room, there didn’t seem to be much happening. I surveyed the scene at the pool – a single man about my age fully clothed lying on a lounge chair reading a paper, a slightly younger couple swimming in the pool, and a young female pool attendant straightening up chairs and picking up towels. None of what I was looking for.

I swam a few laps in the warm water thinking over my day at work and forgetting about the cold. After twenty minutes I stopped the laps and floated around relaxing. Then he walked in – a young guy, early to mid 20s with short wavy dark hair and brown eyes, smooth all over, a bit thin and gangly, and with an innocent face. He took a tentative look around the pool. Wearing a snug black boxer brief style swimsuit, he had one of those short stubby dicks that points out in an obvious way but there is no way to hide it or rearrange it without it popping back into place straight out in front.

This was getting interesting, just what I wanted. I like men young, half my age, inexperienced and full of testosterone. Gay, bi, straight, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that they’re curious and hard up to get off. I can handle the rest.

As he selected a chair to sit on, I pulled myself out of the pool, grabbed my towel, and repositioned myself on the opposite side. I gave him a couple minute show of drying off my tight fuzzy body. Showing him every angle, but avoiding eye contact. I laid out my towel and sat down on the lounge chair.

I was wearing loose fitting navy blue shorts with a bright yellow thong underneath. Looking away, I casually spread my legs apart and brought one knee up so that the packed pouch of my thong was clearly visible and hanging out the leg opening of my shorts. The water had made the thong mostly translucent so I knew without looking that my cut dick head and heavy balls were clearly visible. Earlier I chose the bright yellow thong for just this moment because I knew it would contrast sharply against the blue of my shorts, and was sure to get attention even from across the pool. From the corner of my eye, I could see his wide eyed stare. Like I said, I know what I want and I know how to get it.

My little man stood up and took a quick dive into the pool, mostly I suspect to hide his growing stiffy. I picked up a magazine and leafed through it, so as not to frighten the guy or come on too strong. Part of the game was to make him think it was all his choice, not that an older man was seducing him and his raging hormones. As he swam back and forth he’d take a look at my yellow bulge, available for his eyes only while shielded by my legs from the others still present on the pool deck. After a few more laps and a few more long looks, I casually shifted, exposing more flesh. I knew from experience that he had a clear view of an ass cheek and my thong strap disappearing up my crack. Now he had something more to think about and ponder. He swam close by the edge of the pool, drinking in all he could with his eyes as I continued to read my magazine.

This was really starting to turn me on. I knew I needed to shift into the next phase soon, before I went fully hard and had an erection pop out of my thong right there. He wasn’t ready for that yet. After a few more passes by in the pool, and an increasingly stretched thong, I put the magazine down and collected up my things. I headed over to the locker room to wait. I knew he’d follow me. Horny boys always want another look. Check you out in the shower or changing clothes. Steal a few glances at your masculine assets to compare against their own later as they jack off. I knew he was curious and horny, a perfect combination, and I was ready to play my part. Little did he know he was going to get more than a quick look.

Inside the locker room on the immediate left is a small room with a couple of massage tables. I’ve never seen a masseur or anyone ever getting a massage in here, but the room has a door and will work perfectly. I stood over by the wall of windows with a view out over the city, facing the door, and waiting; waiting for his erection to go down; waiting for his curiosity to increase. Waiting for him to hurriedly dry off and collect his things.

As if on cue, the door leading in from the pool opens and it’s him. He enters, takes a look around and stops, giving me a startled look, not expecting to see me there, waiting for him. I immediately tell him “Come here” and motion for him to come into the massage room. I’m not sure what language he speaks (this being Brussels), so I motion again and then turn to look out the window and watch his reflection in the glass. He takes a step towards the doorway and stops, not sure what to do. I stand still, not moving so he doesn’t feel threatened. After some delay, he walks over to the windows and looks out as well. I tell him “Wait” and move to shut the door before he can escape.

Now as I turn back towards him, he has a frightened look on his face. He’s so innocent and so sexy with his stubby dick still pointing out from his black boxer brief swim suit. I take his right hand. It’s trembling slightly. I raise it up and place it on my furry chest. He can feel my heart beating underneath the fur and thick muscles. He begins to calm down and slowly starts to explore my chest with his hand. Playing with the fur he will never have. Learning what a real man feels like. Feeling my chest, stomach, and chest again, tugging at my fur. I moan lightly and offer no resistance, letting him know he’s free to explore. Once he places his second hand on my chest and steps closer, I know I have won.

I slide my navy shorts down to my ankles, leaving my yellow thong in place, bulging and stretched, barely constraining my throbbing dick. I take his roaming right hand and slide it down to my pouch, moving his hand along the head of my cock, my thick shaft and heavy balls. I moan louder to let him know he’s doing the right thing. He’s young and needs to be trained. He continues, tentatively jacking my dick through the fabric, curious strokes and explorations.

I put my hands on his hips, feeling his shiny tight bathing suit for the first time, pulling him towards me, until our bulges touch, sending electric shivers through us both. He closes his eyes as I continue to pull us together until my hairy chest is pressed into his smooth creamy skin. We grind our hips together; his stubby dick poking and prodding my yellow bulge. It’s like a dry fuck as he grabs my hips and pumps harder, his testosterone taking over. Our dicks in a mating dance. I play with his ass through his swim suit. It’s bony and lean and hot to the touch. I scrape my beard stubble across his face, wanting him to experience every part of a man. He thrusts and grabs, driven mad by the beard and fur and feel of a man.

I knew that keeping his cock happy, would cause his hormones to do the thinking and not his brain. He had no chance. My plan was working perfectly as I held his ass and ground our dicks together. His hands moved to my head, massaging my baldness and beard stubble, and then turn my head so that our mouths line up. His lips meet mine, tasting a real man, probably for the first time. His innocent exterior couldn’t hide the passion of his kisses, his naked lust and yearning for sex - tongues and lips and saliva and hurried breaths.

After several minutes I reluctantly push away, separating our sweaty bodies. There is still a lesson he needs to learn today – how to love to satisfy a real man. I place my hands on his shoulders and urge him down. I want him to get a good look at what lured him into this in the first place. He understands my pressure, and starts to kneel. His face now inches from my yellow bulge. His hands reach out to touch my cock and balls, but I push them away.

I grab his head and hold it steady, bringing my bulging thong to his face, pressing the fleshy contents into one cheek and then the other. Moving it around, adjusting the pressure, teasing him, letting him smell my manly scent. I position my cock head at his lips. He opens up, tasting the slippery precum with the tip of his tongue. He opens further, allowing a sizeable chunk of dick into his mouth, as he jacks his own cock in his swim suit.

Suddenly there are noises outside in the main locker room. He pauses and looks up at me, afraid we will be discovered. I take his head and put it back on my dick. He needs to focus. My cock is the only thing he needs to worry about. Soon he’s back to work, licking and nibbling me, and stroking his own dick as the noises continue. This is just what I wanted, a horny little man overcome with testosterone who will do anything.

The foreplay has gone on long enough. I pull my dick out the side of the thong and let him have his first true taste. I let his hands explore my hairy stomach, chest and ass while he devours my cock with his amateur blow job. He’s young and has time for improvement. I start to stroke in and out, slowly encouraging him to swallow more. He plays with my ass, pulling on my thong strap, grabbing my ass flesh, pulling me further into his mouth. As my balls start to slap his chin, I know he’s done well for his first time.

This is the end. I know I’m going to explode with many days worth of pent up spunk. I start to pull out, letting my first fantastic blast land squarely on his tongue. I pull out further, letting the next blasts land on his cheeks and lips. He suddenly gasps as he explodes into his swim suit while I continue to rub my spunk around his face with my softening dick.

Looking down at my conquered little man, his rapid breathes start to wane and I see him take an awkward swallow, unsure of his first taste of salty cum, but with no alternative. He will learn to love it.

I slip my spent cock back into my thong and pull up my shorts. I tell him “Wait” and go to the door. “Someone’s out there.” I open the door a crack and slip out, shutting it behind me. No one is in the main locker room, but I already knew that. I just wanted to leave him in there alone to savor the spunk in his mouth and dripping off his face, and let him realize what he had done and how much he loved it.

I quickly get dressed and pull out a business card. Write my room number on the back of it, and slip it under the massage room door.

Like I said, I know what I want and I know how to get it. I also knew that tomorrow there would be a knock on my door.

slipslave@gmail.com

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6 Gay Erotic Stories from Slipslave

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I Know What I Want in Brussels

The best part of being 52 years old is that you know what you want, and you know how to get it. Whenever I travel to Brussels, I try and stay in a particular business hotel near the city center. The rooms are fine, but the real attraction is swimming pool and sauna on the top floor. After a cold wet winter day, there’s nothing better than some heat. Plus you get to see some skin. After

I Know What I Want in Brussels, Part 2

Back in my hotel room, I had just finished showering off the scent of chlorine and sex when I hear a knock at the door. Boy that was quick. My little man just couldn’t wait for more dick. Usually they wait a few hours, a day at most. I wrap a towel around my flat waist, check my muscled body in the mirror and open the door slightly. Standing in the hallway is an overweight 20 something year

Latvian Customer Service, part 1

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A major software upgrade for our Latvian customer meant advance planning meetings were necessary, and I got to be part of the team that traveled to Riga, Latvia for two days of meetings. It also meant I would get the chance to see Andris and Inars again. The last time I saw Andris, he shot a load of his thick cum into my eager mouth. With this visit I was anticipating the possibility of more

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