GAY EROTIC STORY
"Foreskin Fetish"

I love foreskin.There's nothing nicer than that luscious sheath that encloses the head of a penis, and often extends well beyond it. I only wish more men had uncut cocks. When I find a guy who's still got what he was born with, I want to suck his hood and nibble and stretch it. Then, when that succulent flesh is inside my mouth, when my lips are pressed tight against the hidden crown, just underneath, I like fondling the guy's testicles. As his cock swells, I like using my fingers to wrap that hood around my tongue, and licking the soft, juicy lining. Then I probe deeper and deeper, until my tongue touches the tip of his swelling erection, teasing it, coaxing it.

Yes, I probably have a foreskin fetish.

Once in a while, I get lucky and find uncut guys in showers, where their cocks are in full display. There's something really sexy about water running down a macho guy's body, streaming through his pubic hair and over his dick, and then flowing off the foreskin hanging from the tip. So I often visit steambaths, especially when I'm in unfamiliar turf, as I am this week.

I'm visiting my company's offices in two towns. The first place was a bust, with no sign of any gay life, let alone steambaths. Today, Thursday, after a long afternoon meeting in the second town, I drive back to the motel for a short snooze. But first I check the Yellow Pages. No steambaths. Damn! Wait a minute, this is the mid-west. Swedes. Finns. Saunas! – and sure enough, there's one listed, and I make a note of the address. I sleep for an hour, and when I wake, I dress casually – jeans and leather jacket – and then drive towards the downtown area in search of a meal. On the way, I pass a small college campus. Hmm, that's promising, I think.

I'm in my late twenties, with a fairly good build and a hairy body. Along with my uncut dick, I have low-hanging balls that almost match the length of my erection. The combination turns a lot of guys on. And when there's no potential foreskin action, I enjoy a eager cocksucker's skills. What man doesn't? Then I love fucking them. But the guys I like humping best are the men who go ballistic when I work on their hoods. They're usually surprised because they've assumed I'm a bottom. Young guys especially are like animals, craving more sex however it comes. "Fuck me. Please fuck me," they plead. And who am I to disappoint them?

When I enter the restaurant, I see a few college-age males. At the bar, when I order a drink, I show the bartender the address and ask him, "Do you have any idea where that is?"

"No," he says. "But I'm fairly new here. Let me ask Sam. He knows this town." And he goes to the other end of the bar and speaks to a good-looking guy who then walks towards me.

"Ken tells me you need directions. Where do you want to go?" Sam asks. He's got shaggy brown hair, a trim moustache and beard, and sensuous lips.

"I'm looking for the Finnish Sauna. It's listed at this address."

"I know the place," he says, his eyes twinkling. "Here, let me draw you a map, assuming you're driving."

"Yes, I am. And thanks. By the way, my name's Hunter."

"Hi! I'm Sam. Glad to meet you." He's got a mischievous grin.

"What's the sauna like?" I ask.

As he sketches the route on the back of the address, he says, "It's small but comfortable. There are wet and dry steam rooms and maybe a dozen benches in the locker-room."

"Would it be busy tonight?" I ask.

"Probably not," he says, looking at me, his brown eyes sparkling.

"Not much fun going alone. Care to join me?" I ask, deciding to cut to the chase.
He pauses for a moment, checking me out, then, "Sure. Why not? I don't have to teach till tomorrow afternoon."

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