The Businessman's Urge for Men

The week had started much like any other. Work, work and more work. Juggling family with building a successful business had become increasingly demanding, not least emotionally. Yet the more he earned, the greater the pressures, the more he seemed to need his release, emotional release. He felt trapped, as if caught in a vicious, cruel snare. It tightening the more he struggled to free himself, clamping around him, frustrating his attempts to obtain true freedom. The freedom to be himself.

And so by Wednesday he'd become desperate. Desperate for a time out, for a break, to step off the treadmill, however brief, desperate to release the tension. After many years of living like this, as he'd married and built his business, he recognised the signs. At times like this, as his urge reached its peak, becoming a strong and irresistible force, he knew to survive was to surrender. Whether attending meetings, at the gym, out with friends or enjoying time at home with the family and visiting relatives, the urge dominated his every moment, both awake and in dream, like being run over by a speeding car. It knocked him off balance, ripping him out of his normal life.

And so he found himself at the steering wheel of his car; the drive a blur. Having left the office with a tired excuse of a sick relative, he drove as fast as he dare. Every traffic light, junction and traffic jam like a dagger through his heart. It ached as the seconds and minutes passed agonisingly by. The adrenaline coursed through his veins, thick and heavy, filling his body, heightening his senses, urging him forward. His hands, clammy, gripped the steering wheel tightly, twisting, fingers tensed, knuckles white, turning the leather in his vice like grip. His muscles spasmed and shook with nervous apprehension. The feeling of anticipation surged, ebbing and flowing, causing him to drift in and out of a trancelike state.

And so it was that less than an hour after having finished his presentation to his investors, having parked his car a little away from the entrance — as was his cautious routine on such occasions, the carpark much to open and conspicuous for his self-conscious — he scampered along the sidewalk, chin pressed to chest, hands pushed deep into pockets, covering the five hundred yards to the Sauna in seconds. He held down the buzzer, waited for the click signalling its release, pushed forward and stepped inside.

Perched on a high stool by the entrance, a slim, youthful man wearing tight-fitting sky-blue shorts and a white cropped top greeted him, "Welcome." His smooth bare legs, tanned, uncrossed themselves as he rose from the stool. "Is it your first time here, darling?"

"No," he replied. "I've been here before, a few times." He glanced over his shoulder as the buzzer accompanied another man through the door, then quickly looking away again, back to the attractive receptionist, "Although, it's been a little while."

"I understand." The receptionist smiled, holding his eyes for a moment longer than necessary, placing a neatly folded towel and a locker key onto the counter. "Well, it's the same as always, really. But it's crazy busy today, loads of girls, which is great. It's fourteen pounds for the day, please."

Struggling to hold his hands steady as the excitement built inside him, he handed the youthful man the entrance fee, grabbed the fluffy white towel and key attached to its pink-coloured rubber band and made his way to the changing room.

By now, his passions advanced toward fever pitch. He drank in the array of photographs of near-naked, muscular men in tight white pants that adorned the walls of the changing room. He strained to pick out the pleasure-filled groans that carried in the air mixed with the hum of techno-music and quiet chatter. The alluring scent of cheap perfume, aftershave and baby oil filled his nostrils, awakening his manhood. I doubted that anyone other than a sexually frivolous, gay man could quite understand the attraction of such a place. Undressed, he wrapped the towel around his waist, allowing his erect cock to hang between a gap at the front. Yes, an act of awful vulgarity, but that was the way of things here. Having secured the locker, he yanked the pink band over his ankle, and, ready for a unique variety of business, the businessman headed upstairs.

Lunchtime is peak-time at the city's gay sauna. Several men, some old, others younger, some large, others skinny, all naked aside from a skimpy white towel and pink rubber band, had gathered tightly in a semi-circle, cocks in hand, pleasuring themselves or each other, some furiously, others more gently, all watching another man, this one also naked, hairy and fully erect, eating the ass of a skinny 'girl' who had assumed a most welcoming position bent over with hands wrapped around ankles. It was scenes like this that brought him back here, the common interests of men with a strong often uncontrollable sexual attraction in other men dressed as girls.

But right now group fun wasn't what he fancied. No, he wanted the intimacy of a one-on-one liaison. The need for intimacy had developed in him more recently. While at first his urge sought only the joys of flesh, the taste of another man, it now needed more to gain satisfaction. He left the group and headed along a darkened corridor to the centre of the sauna. Doors on either side, leading to an open area with settees and rugs. He paused for a moment in front of a large mirror to adjust his towel and admire his body. Then he saw her.

Standing an entire head above those around her, her blonde hair tied in a bun atop her head, gracing her a with several inches more than necessary, she appeared to float above the crowd. She wore heavy make-up, clownish, thick on her ageing features; but she carried it with such grace and authority that his cock twitched furiously as his eyes swallowed her fineness. Dressed in a tight fitting faux-leather dress that revealed her boyish figure, like a giant drag queen, she left little to the over-aroused imaginations of her many admirers. Her hips slender, her body tight, firm behind and with the all important, albeit subtle, mound revealing her hidden secrets. A swarm of hungry admirers surrounded her, their mouths pouring out compliments, hands pawing at her body.

A reserved man, he'd learn the hard way that timidness went unrewarded in the sauna. Instead, sauna etiquette required he act fast and without hesitation or go without. With that in mind, he headed straight toward her, pushing past several other men to stand before her, smiling. She returned his smile with her own, and for a moment he thought he might wet himself, such was her beauty.

"Hello there," she said, her lips painted deep red, large and luscious, they moved teasingly as she spoke, revealing her brilliant white teeth across which she swept her pink tongue.

"I'm Dan," he said. Looking from side to side, he stepped closer and whispered, "I see you've attracted quite the following."

"Oh, I know. Aren't they adorable?" She laughed and gently pressed a painted finger against the dripping tip on a nearby admirer's throbbing cock. "They're all too much, I don't know where to begin. I want them all. Aren't I such a greedy girl?"

A flash of envy washed over him as he watched her gaze turn hungrily to the surrounding cocks. Not wanting to miss out on his chance, he gathered himself and said, "Well, you could start with me. I'm ever such an obedient boy, and I promise to take wonderful care of you."

Her eyes sparkled and a knowing smile broke across her face, "Yes, I'd like that. If you promise to take excellent care, that is"

He took her hand in his, and pushing the other men aside, signalling to the pack - she is mine and I'm not sharing - he led her to an empty booth. Easily, four inches taller than himself, she brushed passed him, her flowery scent mixed with the unmistakable aroma of alcohol and stale tobacco wafting over him. Lust threatening to overwhelm him completely, he closed the door and followed her to the bed.

She popped down on the edge of the bed, her tanned, silky smooth legs, slim, strong-looking and long, pushed out in front of her. "So, Dan. What shall we do now we're alone?"

"I'd like to kiss you if that's ok."

"It's more than ok, yes."

He pressed his lips firmly against hers, the softness of her mouth on his intoxicating, pulling him in as if magnetic. A faint smell of mint and the taste of alcohol, an infusion of sensuality, a the necessary hint of masculinity and danger. She parted her lips and his tongue rushed inside, probing, hunting, tasting, reaching. Her tongue, much bigger and stronger than his own, pushed back and held his in eager submission. Her spittle washed into his mouth and he drank it gratefully, thirstily returning again and again for more.

"You are passionate, Dan. I like a passionate man."

"You're gorgeous," he said, his brain working overtime to process the sensations of this wondrous object struggling to spare the capacity needed for words.

"Why thank you. It takes effort to look this good, dear. And it means ever so much when I get complimented by appreciative gentlemen."

Reaching, running his fingers across the hem of her dress, he asked, "May I?"

"Feel free. I'm all yours, babe."

Her legs parted. Kneeling, lifting her skirt to reveal her blank panties, the bulge of her cock, small but defined and extraordinarily cute, drew him to her. A silky wetness lay at its tip. He inhaled the muskiness of her body, eyes closed, sensing her aura. The truth of the matter is it's the unmistakable smell of a man filling his nostrils, the he yearned for. While dressed in silks and satins and adorned with jewels and make-up, his urge could only be tamed by the luscious firmness of a man's body. He pushed his face down into her crotch, the firm mound pressed against his nose. She groaned pleasurably and thrust her hips forward, strongly, into his face. He took her bulge gently in his mouth, biting down gently on the precious mound, tasting the juice sodden cotton of her panties. Her legs mounting his shoulders, he pulled aside her panties, revealing the smooth inviting raw opening between her legs. Now overwhelmed with lust, he pushed his tongue into her, probing into her man pussy, tasting her and teasing her.

"Oh, yes. That's it," she said, her long legs now wrapped tightly around his neck, locking him into position, high heels pinching the skin on his back. "Yes, yes. Fucking eat me, eat my ass."

Feeling both wholly wrong and entirely right, he spat at the darkness of her hole and massaged with his fingers, pushing them inside her, inviting her to open wider for him, readying her for him. As she wriggled and groaned, her cock straining against the thin softness of her panties, he again thrust his tongue into her, deeper this time, tasting more, reaching further into her. She tasted as blissful as fruit, natural to him, as if he driving his tongue into the hot hole of another man was an entirely normal, everyday activity. If only it were...

Panting, breathless, she whispered to him, her voice deep and lustrous, "Fuck me, Dan. Will you fuck me, hard?"

Unable to speak, driven only by his urges, he flipped her over onto her belly and pulled her panties down over her ankles. He held the moist black cotton against his face, breathing in their glorious scent. She lay spread, face down on the bed, her ass wet with his spit, beckoning him on and in. He lube his throbbing shaft, along and over its bulbous gland, fighting the urge to wank himself and hurl his seed onto her back. He lowered himself on top, he was like a small boy on her, her athletic body making him feeling inadequate and sloth-like; he brushed aside his inferiorities and pushed himself inside. At first there was a nothing, as if her cheeks had clenched down, preventing him from entering. Then, slowly, she opened for him, and his cock locked in place as he pushed firmly down, gratefully, thankful for he gift. Suddenly, without warming, she seemed to suck him inside, her smooth ass cheeks, damp, sticky against his thighs. He tensed, feeling her insides around his member, twitching, clinching him.

"Oh, yes. I love your cock in me. Your big fucking cock, deep inside my tight girly ass." She groaned again, a deep and manly moan. "Push yourself deeper, harder. I'm a dirty cock slut and I'm ready for daddy."

Soon he was thrusting himself inside her, pushing and pulling, her prostate pressing against his gland, her tight ass clenching and releasing him.

"Oh, baby. Baby," she cried. Her hand reaching behind, holding his hips as if to pull him inside even harder.

He would have liked to stay like this, inside her. Her groaning, him on the verge. But his orgasm was ready. It couldn't be held at bay for any longer. "Your so fucking sexy. So, so sexy. I could cry. I need to come."

"Don't come baby, not yet. Fuck me first. Fuck me like the hoar I am. Fuck me bowlegged. Just fuck me."

The urge to come inside her was more than he could resist. Lost to her, she'd defeated him. He would have gladly done anything she demanded, but he had to come. She wanted his cock, and in that hot, dark, seedy sauna, full with naked, horny men fucking and sucking and licking other men, he loved that she wanted him and that she'd given herself to him. His orgasm exploded from him with a such force he thought he'd pissed himself. Hot spunk shooting, pulsing, from his cock deep into her ass. Filling her, spilling from her as he pulled and pushed. She screamed a delighted roar as he dug his nails into her hips as if to tear her open. In that moment he knew he was fucking a guy, making love with another man, thrusting his cock into a guy's ass, and he loved it.

Her skin, ebony in the dark, glistened and sparkled in the red glow of the booth. She writhed on the mattress, her body twisting and turning, rubbing against the leather, sliding frictionless as if possessed. Dropping beside her, he wrapped his legs around hers and pressed his groin into the small of her back. The warmth from her body leeched into him and he felt a thrill of energy surge into him as what was her's transferred to him. When their lips finally met again, the kiss was full and passionate. Tongue groping for tongue, teeth clashing, spittle flowing. He licked her lips, tasting her, kissing her throat, a hard bulge moving in and out as she swallowed. He hugged her tightly, tying to crush her, and she groaned and let out a sigh.

She came. Her cock, sensitive and raw, shot forward clear gel-like cum, spurts of hot man-juice spayed onto bed. It dribbled from the tip, over her fingers and pooled in the black fur that circled her manhood. She shuddered, her body spasming and shaking as the organism ripped through her, threatening to rip her asunder. Then, suddenly, she fell limp, panting, eyes closed, letting her cock fall against her belly. She lay there, blissfully savouring the moment.

Later, as he drove home he felt a peaceful contentedness settle over him. The urge content and fulfilled, for now. He'd left her lying on that bed with his cum pooling around her ass, dripping down her legs onto her stockings. In that moment she looked every inch the man she was and he was filled with a surge of regret and shame. Now as he drove home, he contemplated his actions and engaged that part of his brain where such things could be easily compartmentalised and forgotten, at least for now.

Yet, he knew he'd be back, and very soon. Perhaps just a few days from now. He always came back. The tension and pressure of his life would coalesce and eventually he would have to act. He knew this to be his fate and he had accepted it. Yes, at times he hated himself for this weaknesses; but he'd learned to embrace it of late. "Who knows," he thought to himself as he pulled onto his driveway, "maybe one day I won't have to live this double life." He turned the engine off and looked up to his house. "Maybe one day I'll be open about who I am and what I need. One day."