I walked around Marais, the gayborhood in Paris. From gay bars, restaurants, adult stores to bath houses, Marais has it all. What really caught my attention was the Indian themed paintings on the double doors of “Sun City” on Blvd Sabastopool. Sun City has a bar, gym, pool, sauna, turkish bath, labyrinth and odes of men. If you have still not figured it out it is more than an orgy park, it is an orgy central. So should it be named Fun City?
The last time I walked into a sauna was in Boston, US in the year 2000. The place was dim, steamy and the bears scared the shit out of me and the sadly trip ended in a few minute. 10 years later here I am in Paris venturing into an orgy park after 10 PM. Along with me butterflies too sneaked into Sun City. The hallway was dark, damp, cold and Indian music buried the humming noise of the motors pumping the water and air-conditioning the place. The huge Indian sculptures of Gods and Goddesses made me feel at home and chased my butterflies.
I continued to walk as though I knew the place by the back of my hand, but in reality the only familiar one was the sound of sitar over the PA system. Like animals hiding behind the bush in the jungle, half a dozen men gazed at me without a speck of emotion on their face. Will their tongue intimidate, or entangle and entertain? It was Adrenalin vs Testosterone or Marina vs. Marais?
It was a weekday night and still the place had a crowd of more than 2 dozens. I locked my belongings and walked around the facility. Alain smiled at me as I ascended the stairs. A huge gym with a dozen treadmills and weight training machines filled with hunks and their chiseled chunks welcomed me. My wait had ended and my wish came true. All the men were bare-chested, some were running on the treadmill in their jockey and a few had a towel that precariously hung around their waist. I tightened my muscles and checked myself in the mirror, but I was in no comparison to the French men. French loafers and their hanging loaf made my heart pump more blood below my waist.
Some took the winding stairs that dumped them into swimming pool and Jacuzzi area. I followed them and watched them take a plunge into the swimming pool, while I settled for the Jacuzzi. The indoor pool was surrounded with resting benches occupied by big daddies. They looked like crocodiles basking in the sun.
Alain was the only other person with along with me in the Jacuzzi. We were naked and at opposite ends of the tub. The visibility was poor because of the distance and the high velocity water jet stream. Slowly Alain’s toe nudged mine, it is a move or a mistake? He didn’t apologize, but rather waited to gauge my reaction. I was not sure if the water pushed him my way. Since this was a gay hang out, I had no doubts about his sexuality, I wanted to give him another chance before I make the next move.
Alain finally came closer and without any weapons he captured the one-eyed water snake between my legs. There was no hissing or pissing, no struggle to escape or surrender, without any fit and frown my boy saluted the French man. As mark of respect, I ran my hands on his hairy chest and used my index finger and thumb to feel his nipples. Does Alphs run in France? Then I descended down his thighs. Not sure what message my fingers conveyed, he moved across swiftly and arrested my lower lip with his teeth.
Atlast the French kiss that I was waiting for was showered and showcased. His tongue was in my mouth, while my head trying to capture, process, and store the movements of his tongue. He massaged my gums and sculpted my teeth with his tongue and at times clenched my lips with his teeth as a mark of friendship. The acrobatics, dynamics, and stamina exhibited by the 2.5 inch muscle astonished me. Now I knew what it means when they refer to a “tongue twister” and “tongue tied”. I am finally FFF certified – French kissed by French in France.
I didn’t realize this trip of mine was going to set new records and test a few laws. We spent the next 45 minutes just repeating and rehearsing the act. This very kiss made my 20 year long sex life nothing. As the passion and hormones ascended I went down like a scuba driver looking to catch a glimpse of the underwater life. It was elementary and orgasmic. Every minute I came up to flush my lungs and stock up a fresh supply of oxygen.
Does water add to friction or does it act as a lubricant? I tested the Newton and Archimedes laws and validated them underwater. Why did I not run such experiments in the past? For the first time I had a complete erection underwater that lasted longer and underwater wanking was fun and frictionless.
Alain and I exchanged some basic personal information and our conversations were interrupted every now and then a few people came to the Jacuzzi. While some decided to gives us the privacy, some wanted to be a part of the fun. More the merrier!
Have you ever been in a situation where you had to court favors to make up for your country’s incompetency? I felt like an Indian Ambassador to France.I was making amends for all the bad publicity India had earned before the Common Wealth Games. My duty was to please and pleasure them. The French are indeed masters, specialists and experts when it comes to kissing, but what about FCUK?
Labyrinth and Sauna stories will continue….
