The club

When Mark walked into the club with his brother George I couldnt believe my eyes I had seen George a week earlier and he had said that Mark was visiting him soon and when he came down he would bring him into the looked alike but Mark was 3 years younger and it had been 3 years since I has seen was so had filled out into a great looking guy, full of confidence and not the Mark I had known 3 years gave a huge smile when he saw me took hold of my hand and shook real hard.. he was grinning from ear to ear and said how good it was to see me again and how well I looked..I was working behind the bar and he said his brother George had told him I worked there and he suggested they come down to see me. I told him it was so good to see him and asked him what he was drinking he and George asked for a couple of Lagers so I got them and told him no charge mate the drinks are on me it is so good to see you and again.. it was comng up to 11 30 when the bar closed and I called for last orders.. There werent too many people in there and they soon made their way to the door..

Mark asked if it was alright if they could stay for drinks after time and I said sure mate anything you said that he had to get up early for work and that if Mark wanted to stay it was ok Mark was staying at George’s so George said I’ll leave the door unlocked so come home when you said see you bro and George left..I followed George to the door and locked it behind I got back to the bar Mark was sitting in one of the booth seats and patted the seat and said come and sit down mate we got some catching up to do..

He was sat there with his legs wide open, he was wearing very tight jeans and I could see the outline of his cock straining against the tight jeans and although I had heard he had a big cock I had never had the nerve to make a move on him…I sat down and he said hey mate get closer we aint seen each other for a while and I wanna catch up with all you been doing..

I had been away from the village for 3 years and told him what I had been doing I could feel the heat from his leg which was nearly touching hand was resting in his crotch and when I looked down I could see his hand resting on his cock.I openned my legs and felt my knee touch his leg and moved it away said Hey mate we’re buddies aint we I dont mind if your knee touches me mate..I said ok mate and moved my knee so it ws pressing into his leg..I felt his leg move against my knee and he said thats better mate thats more cosy aint it..I coiuld feel my cock stirring in my tight black working trousers and looked down to see Mark pressing his right hand onto his cock and it made me feel so moved his hand to pick up his drink an I could see his cock had grown quite a bit probably because he had been resting his hand on it..

I saw his left hand move onto his upper leg almost touching my leg and pressed my knee further into his and felt him return the cock was beginning to get hard and was very prominent in my pants and saw Mark staring down at like you gotta problem mate he said your pants are gonna burst if that fucker grows any both laughed and he said always wanted to feel another guys cock and I always had a special thing about you mate would you mind if I felt your way I said you can do anything you want Mark ..

He moved his hand across and I felt him push down on my cock making it fully hard..I aint a small guy my cocks about 8 inches fully hard and quite thick ..jeeze he said you got a big fucker in there nearly as big as mine and openned his legs as wide as he could and I could see his huge cock straining against his tight have you mate I said he said have a feel mate I’m so fucking horny just sitting here next to you touching your dick.. I felt his hand grip it through my pants I rached across and felt his cock through his jeans and felt it throb when I touched me he said that feels so fucking good I like your hand on my dick mate but I think you’d better get the fucker out before I burst my fucking jeans.I felt his hand move up to my waist and unfasten my belt and start to unbutton my flies so I did the same to him..

Thats it mate get my fucking cock out and play with the fucker while I get yours out he said I gotta suck on it when I get it out is that ok with you mate I been wanting to suck you off for ages mate and I been wanking myself silly just thinking about what I’m doing right now Oh mate I love your hand on my the fucker out and wank me off while I lean over and suck you off I wanna feel you fucking my mouth till you come your load . His hand was really busy on my cock and I was so excited I knew it wasnt gonna be too long before I shot my load.. 

I watched as he bent over and took my cock into his mouth and felt his warm lips moving up and down my shaft making my cock harder than it had ever been.. It felt so great having this good looking guy sucking on my cock ..I was wanking him real fast and felt his mouth move faster on my cock and his tongue sucking on my shaft I knew I was gona come and reached down and tried to pull his head off it but he sucked all of my dick into his mouth and I felt his lips touch the base of my cock he was sucking the whole length and I knew I was gona explode I felt his big cock throb in my hand and and felt the warm juices running down my hand just as I started to shoot my come into his mouth..

He took his mouth off my cock and fucking hell mate I wanted to do that for such a long time it felt so good sucking on your cock and feeling you wanking me gonna do it again and again I want to suck you off again and feel you come in my mouth while you make me come gain… to be continued….

An erotic but strange encounter with a beautiful stranger leaves Jeremy with deep puzzling concerns…

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Everything You Need to Know Before Your First Gay Sex Party

This June, a particularly slut-shame-y meme made the rounds online, which claimed to espouse what pride “is.” it juxtaposed a black-and-white photo of an early Pride march with signs and fists raised, captioned “THIS IS PRIDE,” next to a photo of two men grinding each other on a float with speedos and rainbow flags, captioned “THIS IS BULLSHIT.”

Let’s get one thing straight: Pride may have started as a protest, and its function within the community may be in flux, but among other things, it has always been about sex. A sexual component has always underscored Pride’s history as a collective community defiance, an act of celebration and visibility. Queer sex is and always will be a middle finger to the hetero establishment, a threat to the dominant paradigm, and — for this queer man, at least — the most beautiful part of my life. My queer identity is tied immovably to the most intimate parts of my life; the men I fuck, the men I kiss and grind in public, my positive HIV status, my sex parties, my slutty nights.

Sex, in other words, is a key way we express ourselves as queer people, and we’re lucky enough to be part of a community at the vanguard of sexual expression. From open relationships to kink and BDSM and all manner of uninhibited, no-moral-bullshit sexual play in between, being queer means having a world of sexual exploration at your fingertips.

That exploration often takes place at sex parties and orgies, and summertime means that group fuck fests, orgies, and circuit parties with winding sex mazes will be hopping. Whether you’re new to queer sex or a seasoned pro, you should join in. Here are 15 tips to get you started, with a bunch to follow in part two of this guide.

The buddy system works at sex parties, too. Friends make orgies better. Whether you’re going to a private party in someone’s condo or an industrial sex dungeon with a coat check and pricey admittance fee, you’re probably going to be a little nervous and feel a little overwhelmed. Go with a friend — preferably one with benefits — and you’ll have a familiar face nearby in case you need one.

Tall socks (the fetish wear brand Nasty Pig sells a good collection) make for a perfect place to stash your ID, credit card, cash, lube, and other essentials when you shed the rest of your clothes. This rule of thumb really only applies to official venues — circuit parties, sex clubs, and so on — where you may be naked but keep your shoes and socks on. If you’re at a bathhouse or a private party, you should probably lose your shoes and socks, too.

Location makes a huge difference. Public venues (warehouses, sex clubs, bathhouses, et al.) may require a ticket or charge an admittance fee. House or apartment parties in private residences are usually free, but not always — larger ones may require a fee or have a suggested donation.

Sex parties in private residences are, well, private, and usually smaller, so the expectations of attendees are different. They may be invite-only, or you may need to “know a guy,” and there will sometimes be a host who you need to thank. You may be expected to play with everyone there, or at least not be obvious as to who you’re less interested in. Parties like these can be more personal than those at a public venue, but that comes with its own benefits and drawbacks, too.

On the other hand, there are virtually no expectations of attendees in public spaces or sex clubs. You can do what you want. You can watch, participate, play in a group, or tuck away to a semi-private space (if such spaces are available) for more one-on-one action.

That said, some private sex parties are massive, because some private residences are massive, with hundreds of attendees. While they may still be invite-only (or you may need to be on some sort of mailing list), the expectation to play with everyone doesn’t exist at these. You’re not superhuman.

Many sex parties require a specific dress code — jockstrap or nude only, for example. Others are gear-focused and require you to wear certain attire. Many are male-only, but some are mixed.

Some parties ask you to hide your features with a hood or mask. Some may feature drug use; others are exclusively sober. Many parties at public venues will prohibit the use of drugs, so if you’re curious about group sex or sex parties but wish to avoid drugs, your local bathhouse may be the best first step. Some parties are condom-friendly; others are bareback-only. Know what kind of party or venue you’re going to so you can be prepared to make choices within your comfort levels once you’re there.

Even if the host says lube or condoms (or whatever you need) will be available, it’s always best to bring your own. Don’t bring the largest, most expensive bottle of lube you own, in case it gets lost, left behind, or worse — shared. I’ve watched with frustration as my silky premium silicone lube got depleted and passed around by greedy party-goers. I’m too polite to ask them to stop. Don’t make my same mistake.

“Poppers” are small amber bottles filled with nitrates that, when inhaled, create a fleeting, “head rush” high. They exist on the grey market in America — they can’t be sold as a drug, but they can be sold under thinly-veiled alternative purposes, like “VHS cleaner.” They’re widely used during gay sex and at gay sex parties, one reason being because they relax smooth muscle tissue in the anus, making penetration easier.

While they’re not addictive, and they’re a relatively low-risk drug, they do come with potential side effects (certain kinds can damage your eyes, and if you have heart problems or conditions related to blood pressure, they can be dangerous). If you’re using Viagra, Cialis or another drug for erectile dysfunction, you should never do poppers, because the combination can lead to an unsafe drop in blood pressure.

Poppers are widely, recreationally used at gay sex parties (and anywhere gay men are gathered). Even if you don’t use them, they will be present at the next sex party you attend — unless, of course, you’re attending an explicitly sober sex party. If you like to use poppers, bring your own bottle, so that you know exactly what’s in them.

If you go to a bareback sex party and pull out condoms, you might be asked to leave. If the party is condom-only and you show up ready to play bare, you may also be asked to leave.

If you go to a sex venue, you’re usually free to do whatever you choose, although certain sex parties at certain venues cater exclusively to an all-bareback clientele. If it’s a private house party, find out beforehand what the condom policy is — never assume.

Some venues are required by state law to provide condoms and make them visible to visitors. Some even have signs saying you “must” use them. You can decide how seriously you want to treat these signs, but in either case, show up prepared.

Never assume there will be someplace for you to clean out at a sex party — while many make this an option, many more don’t. And while you don’t have to douche to bottom, if you feel like you need to, you should prepare beforehand.

I always try to be extra prepared if I’m going to a group sex party — regardless if it’s at a venue, bathhouse, or private home. I clean once, wait (up to an hour sometimes), and clean again. By this point I’ve also usually stopped eating for half a day or more. Remember that it can take more than a day for your body to process food and produce a bowel movement. These aren’t necessary steps for everyone, and not everyone douches — especially if you eat a high fiber diet — but if you do douche, douche before.

Easier said than done, right? There are few things in life more frustrating than preparing for an awesome party, arriving, seeing the sexy crowd, and realizing you’re not good to go. I know how crushing that can feel in the moment, but don’t let it ruin your weekend. There’s always another sex party. There’s probably another one happening somewhere right now.

If you’re not willing to top (it will be appreciated by bottoms present), enjoy oral sex, or simply watch and get off, go home and watch Netflix or cuddle with a friend and try not to beat yourself up. It happens to everyone — pros and novices alike. Every single man who has sex with men has been in that situation.

This is an amateur move; a good sex party host never reveals other invitees/attendees. The unspoken agreement you make when you arrive at most sex parties is one of complicity and anonymity. You’re there to have sex. Everyone else is, too. You’re in the same boat — equally implicated with everyone else in attendance.

My advice is to wear old clothes and go minimal. I wear gym shorts, jockstrap, socks, shoes, and a t-shirt. That’s it. Don’t wear your sexy clothes or your nice clothes, since no one will see them. Wear clothes you don’t mind stuffing into a locker that hasn’t been cleaned since the last person who used it, or clothes you wouldn’t mind getting soiled or stained.

If the party has a fetish gear dress code, you must wear fetish gear. A jockstrap and shoes likely won’t cut it. A jockstrap and harness might not even be enough. A true gear party will have doormen to evaluate if you’re wearing adequate attire, and they will turn you away if you’re not.

Also, if the party says “jockstrap or naked only,” yes, you will have to strip down to your jockstrap, if you’re wearing one, or go naked. I get irritated when I’m in a sex venue where everyone is naked or mostly-naked and one person is walking around fully dressed — many others do, too.

The coat/bag check will likely be cash-only. Most venues have coat/bag checks — or they’ll have lockers, which may or may not require cash to rent. This rule only applies to venues, although some hosts of private parties do provide space to put your stuff — something you should thank them for.

Keep in mind that many venues are entirely cash-only — including the membership fee, if there is one, and the fee to get in. Don’t assume an ATM will be present. Get cash ahead of time.

Some venues will require you to check your phone at the door. If you’re not having a good time, simply leave. Let everyone keep playing and step outside; get in your car, hop on the subway, call an Uber, and arrange plans somewhere else. Or go home. Don’t stay on your phone when people are in your vicinity and ready to play.

If it’s a bathhouse or sex club, you may have to purchase a club membership the first time you go. There are a variety of reasons why venues require this, but mostly it’s because some state laws outlaw sex clubs but allow “private clubs,” so by requiring attendees to purchase memberships, they meet the criteria of the latter. Some even give you a membership card, which you should hold on to if you plan on coming back.

In part two of this guide, we’ll cover more basics — sex party etiquette, how to navigate rejection, the risks of group sex, HIV/STIs — and more.

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Everything You Need to Know Before Your First Gay Sex Party

Why Straight Men Are Joining Masturbation Clubs

When Brandon* was in his early 20s and studying abroad, he went on a trip to Israel with his friends to hike in the Judean caves. At a certain point, they reached a part of the cave that was pitch-black. “It didn’t take long for someone to suggest we all jerk off in the darkness,” Brandon, now 35, says. “And so we did.” After they finished, they zipped themselves up and proceeded to continue meandering through the caves, as if nothing happened. They never spoke of it again.

Brandon self-identifies as straight. He had never masturbated in front of another man, let alone a group of other men, before in his life. Yet he says in retrospect, the weirdest thing about the incident was how not-weird it seemed at the time. “It was tame, fratty, kind of lame,” he said.

In truth, Brandon is absolutely right: his experience masturbating in front of other men is far from a singular one. Though there isn’t much data attesting to its exact prevalence, it’s far from uncommon for straight men to have had communal masturbatory experiences during adolescence, whether it’s beneath the alpaca blankets in their parents’ basement or behind the bleachers after gym class or in the bunks at sleepaway camp (or at John Lennon’s house). There’s even a term for it on Tumblr: “buddy bating.”

“We know it’s common for teenage boys to masturbate together or to instruct one another in how to do it,” says Dr. Jane Ward, author of the 2015 Not Gay: Sex Between Straight White Men, which coined the viral term “bro jobs” to describe straight men having sex with each other. Ward cites a 1981 report on male sexuality by sexologist Shere Hite, which suggested that nearly 20 percent of men had engaged in group masturbation during adolescence.

Most men who are willing to speak openly about experiences like this will do so with a certain measure of fondness, even nostalgia. “It’s a rite of passage and an essential part of the teenage male bonding ritual,” says Sean*, 31, who used to buddy bate with his friends when he was in his early teens. Sean came of age in the early aughts during the pre-Pornhub, post-Limewire era, when online porn was far less accessible than it is now, so he viewed communal masturbation more as a matter of convenience and less as a display of budding masculinity. But regardless of the impetus behind buddy bating, for some men, the urge to whip it out in front of your bros extends beyond adolescence, even though there are fewer options for them to dabble in that interest in adulthood.

In Seattle, for instance, there’s the Rain City Jacks, a jackoff club for men who wish to, per the website, “jack off openly and safely in a uniquely sex-positive, non-discriminating and mutually respectful community.” (They also have Mardi Gras-themed events, if you’re into that.) Every Sunday and Tuesday, the Rain City Jacks meet at an erotic art gallery in Seattle. The furniture is covered in canvas, and volunteers hand out small plastic cups of lube to guests. (“We try to be environmentally responsible, but people want their own clean lube,” Rain City Jacks founder and organizer Paul Rosenberg told me.) The lights are dimmed slightly and soft music plays while the men gather, either alone or in small clusters, and proceed to jerk off, all the while keeping conversation to a minimum to ensure everyone stays in the moment.

One of the terms I hear a lot is that this is the ultimate form of male bonding.

Most of the attendees at Rain City Jacks are gay men. But Rosenberg says it is not uncommon to see curious straight men at the club’s events. He conducts annual surveys of the group, and he says that while the majority of members are gay, about 10 percent of the Seattle Jacks’ 300 or so members self-identify as heterosexual, with 25 percent identifying as bisexual.

“You can sometimes tell a guy is straight because he’s not interested in kissing another guy,” says Rosenberg. “It’s easy for him to focus on the penis, but not to be physically affectionate.” Nonetheless, he says, they all get something out of it. “The straight men I’ve played with at my club want to evangelize it to other straight guys, because they enjoy it so much and they don’t feel threatened by it,” Rosenberg said. “They may feel no romantic attraction to other men, but we’ve given them a green light to experiment: to touch another man’s penis, to share pleasure with each other. One of the terms I hear a lot is that this is the ultimate form of male bonding.”

Coincidentally, the 10 percent figure Rosenberg reports also squares with data from BateWorld, a website featuring men uploading jackoff clips that has been referred to as “Facebook for masturbators.” According to a Slate piece on the phenomenon, approximately 10 percent of BateWorld’s users self-identify as straight, while 5 percent refused to self-identify either way—a number that pales in comparison to the more than 44,000 gay users of the site (50 percent of its audience; 30 percent identifies as bi, while 5 percent would “rather not say”), but is nonetheless significant. As Slate writer Kyle Mustain put it, “that’s a lot of not-gay dudes with profiles on a website for men who like to masturbate with other men.” And given the strict and arguably regressive codes governing male sexuality, which dictate that any man who so much as looks at another man has to be, if not gay, probably bisexual, it’s surprising that so many ostensibly straight men are interested in watching other guys touch themselves.

That said, for some straight guys who attend jackoff clubs, looking at or touching other penises may almost be beside the point. Ward, the author of Not Gay, says that some men with exhibitionistic tendencies jerk off in front of other men as a way to get validation—say, a compliment about the size of their genitals—that they may not necessarily get from their female partners. She said one man said he frequently attended jackoff clubs because he wanted to masturbate in front of his female partner, but she had no interest in watching him do so. To this man, jackoff clubs weren’t “much different than guys popping the hood and comparing engines. He said this was something he had a strong desire to share with other men.”

According to Dr. Gloria Brame, a sexologist, the psychology makes sense. „People always feel stronger in a group. Doing it with a bunch of other guys may give a shy man permission to be his own wild self and enjoy the pleasure of masturbation,“ she says. Alternatively, a masturbation club could offer a pressure-free opportunity to get off without the assistance of a partner. „For men who find it easier to come by hand rather than through penetration, it can be very freeing to be in a crowd with others who may be in the same place,“ says Dr. Brame, also noting the added thrill of exhibitionism the setting provides.

On its surface, the idea that a man might masturbate in front of other men as an assertion of heterosexuality might sound strange. But in truth, Ward points out, there’s not much of a distinction between the communal experience of a jackoff club and, say, going to a strip club and getting a lap dance at the same time as your friend, or having sex in the same room as your male roommate during college. Yes, presumably there are women present in those scenarios, but the result— communal arousal—is the same. While both of these experiences are not uncommon for men in their teens and twenties, they’re staunchly homoerotic nonetheless—and it’s also worth noting that there isn’t quite an equivalent for young women. “The norms of collective arousal for men are very different than they are for women,” Ward says. “It’s just common for men’s sexuality to express itself in a public way.”

For this reason, says Ward, jackoff clubs “may be a way [for straight men] to perhaps relive or reconnect with a kind of adolescent homosociality that men may have experienced.” In other words, much like going to a strip club, it’s a form of male bonding, albeit one that requires some heavy-duty cleanup afterwards. (Dawn, apparently, is the product of choice.)

Whether in ancient Judean caves or erotic art galleries, men have presumably been gathering for the express purpose of group masturbation for millennia (see: ancient Middle Eastern pagans gathering in a field to J.O. as part of a fertility rite, or pretty much any vase designed in ancient Greece). Yet formal jackoff clubs have been around since approximately the early 1980s, when the first known club, the New York Jacks, was founded, says Steve*, the 69-year-old current organizer of the NY Jacks. At first, the members were primarily openly gay men, mostly exhibitionists who “like public sex, but didn’t want to get involved in more hardcore stuff,” says Steve. But that changed a bit when the HIV/AIDS crisis hit in the early 1980s. Because the New York Jacks exclusively focused on solo and mutual masturbation, it was viewed by many in the gay community as a relatively risk-free alternative to bathhouses and sex clubs, which led to membership increasing. “What we do is pretty much as safe as you can get in a public sex situation,” Steve says.

With the advent of subreddits like r/jobuds and porn websites like BateWorld, jackoff clubs have since been somewhat on the decline. Yet for some, exchanging late-night snaps with other dudes on the internet doesn’t quite have the same appeal as IRL group masturbation. There are still a number of jackoff clubs across the country, which are increasingly attracting young, straight men. Steve says he gets “calls and letters all the time” from straight men interested in the club, who view it as a safe space to exercise their curiosity (if not their desire) about other men’s bodies. “Usually, I tell them it’s a perfect place for them because you don’t have to get romantically involved, you don’t have to touch anyone if you don’t want to,” he says. “You can just come and watch or participate at whatever your comfort level is.”

Because masturbation (whether solo or mutual) is often not culturally viewed as a form of sex, guys who are curious about sex with other men can dabble in it without feeling like they’ve gone “all the way.” That’s particularly true if they are married or in a relationship with someone who doesn’t know about their participation in jackoff clubs, says Rosenberg. For both gay and straight men in relationships, jackoff clubs “can be viewed as a way to justify infidelity, because it doesn’t ‘count’ as cheating,” he says.

In recent years, jackoff clubs have catered to an increasingly diverse, younger, and more sexually open clientele. “The younger the guys are, the more open they are,” says Steve. “The younger generation is so comfortable with gay people. They’ll play with another guy even though they prefer women.”

To a degree, this rise in interest among straight men parallels that of straight men in same-sex activity in general. Overall, more men are self-identifying as bisexual or bicurious than ever before: one 2018 YouGov survey suggests that 25 percent of people identify as something other than heterosexual, up 5 percent since 2015. Men in particular are also increasingly identifying as bisexual, with one 2016 Centers for Disease Control (CDC) study indicating that 2 percent of men (up from 1.4 percent of men in 2010) self-identified as bi.

The last few years have seen something of a shift in terms of male sexual fluidity becoming more culturally acceptable, as the idea that everyone’s sexuality exists on a spectrum has gained tractionNico Tortorella and Brendon Urie have come out as pansexual, and shows like and Schitt’s Creek feature male characters who are unapologetically attracted to people of all genders. But this shift has been marginal at best: there is still much more mainstream cultural representation of bisexual or pansexual women than men, in part because female sexuality is still considered inherently more fluid (despite a growing body of research indicating otherwise). While men tend to ignore or even actively encourage their female partners’ same-sex tendencies, that’s not the case for women: in fact, one 2016 survey from Glamour Magazine found that nearly two-thirds of women would not date a man who had sex with other men.

As a result of the lingering stigma surrounding guy-on-guy action, many straight men are reluctant to openly discuss same-sex experiences or desire of any kind. (It’s worth noting, for instance, that while I spoke to more than a dozen self-identified straight men for this piece about their own experiences with other men, they all only agreed to speak on the condition of anonymity.)

We have so much homophobia, so straight men feel cut off from experiencing physical affection with other men.

On occasion, such internalized homophobia can cause issues in jackoff clubs, especially if a member approaches another man who’s not interested in anything beyond looking. “There’s never been anything particularly violent, but there can be awkward moments between guys,” says Steve. “They’re few and far between, but it happens.”

It’s perhaps for this reason longtime jackoff club devotees like Rosenberg view the clubs as an escape from toxic masculinity, a way for men to enact their most taboo desires and self-love without fear of judgment. “We have so much homophobia, so straight men feel cut off from experiencing physical affection with other men,” Rosenberg says. “In my view, experiencing affection and connecting with other people physically is part of what we need to achieve happiness with another human being.” And while some might argue that a group of dudes masturbating on drop cloth-covered furniture doesn’t exactly constitute an emotional connection, taking an act that is as solitary and intimate and so traditionally laden with shame as masturbation and making it communal can be transformative.

“What happens in those circles is so affirming and so healing and so transforming for these guys,” says Jallen Rix, a sex therapist and longtime attendee of jackoff clubs, who hosts small Men’s Sacred Self-Pleasuring Circles in his living room in southern California. As an example, he cited one man who had attended a circle in Tennessee who said that he had been sexually abused as a child, and had thus developed a deeply ingrained fear of older men. “The circle had every shape and size, big, small, round, thin, hairy, smooth,” Rix said. “Somehow in that circle, his triggers went away. He could see they were accepting of him, and not out to get them.”

Or alternatively, perhaps the appeal is as simple as this: “most men, regardless of sexual orientation, really love their penises,” says Steve. “And they love to masturbate.” So why not have it all?

*Some names have been changed to protect subjects‘ privacy.

Since 1957, GQ has inspired men to look sharper and live smarter with its unparalleled coverage of style, culture, and beyond. From award-winning writing and photography to binge-ready videos to electric live events, GQ meets millions of modern men where they live, creating the moments that create conversations.

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Why Straight Men Are Joining Masturbation Clubs

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Nifty gay stories: Best gay erotic fiction

A gay couple kiss in Trafalgar Square after the annual Pride in London Parade 2015. (Photo by Rob Stothard/Getty Images)

Nifty is one of many erotic literature sites but it’s especially unique because it is focused on the LGBT community with Nifty gay stories as well as lesbian, bi, trans and more.

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My Visit to the Gay Sex Club

From the front, it looked like a nondescript shopfront in an industrial area of town normally overrun with tradesmen in their hi-visibility shirts through the day. But what you couldn’t see from the front was how far back the shop extended and what lay inside. The sun was out, the sky cloudless, mid afternoon on an unseasonably warm autumn day.

My accomplice and I were met at the front counter by Bruce, in his 40s, one of the owners. He had muscles like raw spaghetti. He informed us that the other owner, Karl, in his 70s, was waiting for us upstairs. Bruce and Karl were a committed couple. Bruce walked us through the sex shop at the front – shelves of DVDs, magazines, toys – and took us up a wooden staircase. Karl was sitting in a large, air-conditioned room with several desks haphazardly arranged, washing machines and dryers on full bore, and piles of hardcore VHS videocassettes, both straight and gay – which he explained he ‘couldn’t get rid of for love or money’. He had white Santa Claus hair and a nose like a rotten strawberry.

Karl took us back downstairs and started to show us the area beyond the sex shop. On a wall before a corridor, there were piles of fresh towels on several wooden racks. The locker room was further down the corridor. The lockers themselves looked like something a high school might’ve thrown out. The next room was long and narrow, tiled, with three showerheads; Karl explained that the room was intentionally narrow to facilitate interactions between those who were showering. ‘It’s hard to get to the end shower without bumping into someone showering at the first or second showerhead.’ There were no cubicles for the showers – it was just one open room. Next to the shower room was a single toilet. There were pink pump packs with hand soap on every wall, next to small sinks. Bowls full of condoms and boxes of tissues were also omnipresent.

We walked out of the showering area and started down another long corridor, this one darkened. Natural light disappeared behind us; the only light was artificial and came from a snack food vending machine on one side of the corridor and a display case on the other side. The display case had some of the more exclusive items on sale, all sparkling stainless steel. ‘Exquisite manufacturing,’ said Karl, ‘German.’ Cock rings of all sizes, anal plugs, chastity cages, something called a ‘humbler’, even apparatuses with electrical stimulation that Karl thought were ‘ridiculous’. The walls were covered with large posters of naked men, their muscles bulging, their cocks long and erect, their glares steely. It is then that I caught my first glimpse of a large man wearing only a towel. For a brief moment he appeared as if he’d leapt straight off the wall and into real life. I couldn’t say what he actually looked like because I found myself unable to look him in the eye as he casually walked past. Instead, I kept my eyes on his towel, making sure it stayed exactly where it was.

We were shown into a small lounge area, dimly lit, with a large TV in the corner playing a hardcore gay porno. ‘This is Bruce’s mother’s lounge,’ said Karl, pointing at the floral furniture. ‘He couldn’t bear to get rid of it.’ The coffee table was covered in magazines. On one side of the room, running the length of the wall, was a long desk with six networked computer monitors. ‘A lot of the men feel they can’t surf the net freely at home,’ Karl said, ‘so they come here where they can look at whatever they want. I would hasten a guess that seventy per cent of our clientele are married with children.’ There was a small bar fridge in the corner. We were offered tea and coffee.

The next room to which we were taken was a small cinema room. There were no seats, just three floor levels at varying heights. The entire wall nearest the entrance was taken up with a TV showing another porno. ‘That was once the most expensive TV in the world,’ Karl informed us, ‘it cost us $33,000.’ The room was so dark that I could barely see a thing, even with the TV flickering an enormous amount of synthetic blue light. I couldn’t tell how far back the room went or if anyone was in it. Before I could think further, a thin man with long hair cascading down his back entered the room wearing a bra and G-string. He lay luxuriantly on one of the levels and started playing with himself. I was suddenly very self-conscious, feeling as if I was interrupting him, like I was a stranger in his home.

Karl quickly escorted us into the next room, which was even bigger and darker. All the walls were painted black, the only light available was that creeping in from the corridor. I could hear noises but couldn’t see their source, my eyes continually adjusting to the darkness. It was then I realised they were human noises: several men grunting as if in pain, or overwhelmed with pleasure. ‘Oh I say,’ Karl said nonchalantly, ‘bit of a group enjoying themselves in here, what!’ More bodies appeared then disappeared into the shadows. Karl explained this was the orgy room, fitted with two king-sized beds. It smelt of stale sweat, like an old gymnasium. That I could only hear what was going on and only make out fuzzy, writhing silhouettes was more disconcerting than actually being able to see everything. My imagination ran wild, as did my fear, unable to see what was in front of me or behind. I lost sight of Karl who had raced off ahead, keen to show us something he called ‘the suckatorium’. My accomplice would later thank me for wearing a white T-shirt: in such a dark room, he always knew where I was. As Karl started calling – ‘Where are you guys, are you still here?’ – another man scooted past and lightly brushed my arm, as if introducing himself to me gently. I could not see his face and as quickly as he appeared, he was gone again.

My heart was racing. I felt like I was caught in a laser tag arena where people whizzed past and shot you dead with their computerised guns before you knew what happened.

Karl finally returned to find us, and my breathing and pulse rate slowly returned to baseline. He led us into a narrow passageway. ‘Here’s my pride and joy,’ he declared, ‘behold… the suckatorium!’ It was another black room that Karl illuminated with a small red lamp. There were wooden partitions against one wall much like would be seen in a bank, inviting each customer up to the teller’s window. Except there was no window. Instead, there was a long, rounded vertical slot cut into each wall. ‘You can’t quite appreciate it from here,’ Karl said. ‘Just wait here a second.’ He disappeared, leaving us alone, huddled in a dark corner with our claustrophobia. The air was thick, the muffled grunting continuing in the next room, people shuffling back and forth, adjusting and readjusting their positions. It took an eternity for the red lamp to appear again on the other side of the wall; it was Karl’s finger (thankfully) at the height of his groin, demonstrating how the elevated wall on the other side allowed for both the sucker and suckee to stand comfortably while the fellatio effortlessly took place. ‘We had to measure the heights,’ Karl explained. ‘I was once an engineer in the army, you know.’ Karl said that an associate was so impressed with the design that he returned to America and copied it in his own club. ‘We decided that a small glory hole was too restrictive,’ Karl said, fingering the slot. ‘With this long rounded slot, you just reach in to play with the other man’s balls, or reach around and easily finger his arsehole.’

Karl recounted a story of a man who once fell asleep in one of the partitions. The night staff manager who was locking up noticed the sleeping man and shook him awake. ‘Now if there’s one thing I learned in the army,’ Karl said, ‘it’s that you don’t wake a sleeping man by touching him.’ The sleeping man awoke and punched the night manager in the face, who promptly called the police. On arrival, the police found the customer staggering off into the night wearing a business shirt, tie, shoes, and no pants, and a distraught night manager who had to be talked out of pressing assault charges.

The darkness enveloped me, the spaces disorientating. I could not tell how big the establishment was or how far it extended as Karl led us from one darkened room to another. It momentarily occurred to me that I had no idea where the fire exits where, something that rarely concerned me. Out back, we finally emerged into an expansive open area flooded with natural light. There were planks of wood and sheets of plastic and power tools all over the floor, along with more piles of DVDs and an old massage table in the corner. ‘As you can see, this is a work-in-progress,’ Karl said. ‘We’re still thinking about what to do here. I’d like to put in a steam room, tiled, like an old school Turkish bathhouse, that we can hose out easily. We’re always having hygiene issues, there’s too much wood in the areas we have already. But we need to get some plumbing put in out here. At the moment, it’s all at the front of the shop, where the showers are. I’d love to put a small area out the back where we can have BBQs, where people can relax and smoke. But we’d need to enclose the area properly. Even today, we’ve got a neighbour, a curious Asian truck mechanic, who keeps peering over the fence. I’ve invited him to join us but he refuses.’

Karl finally led us up a darkened stairwell, lit only by a small rope of LED lights along each wall, as would be seen in a cinema. Catching his breath at the top of the stairs, Karl stood in a corridor revealing eight darkened doorways. Men were standing in the corridor, loitering, or disappearing in and out of rooms. Karl showed us into the first room on the right. He flicked on the dimmer button, illuminating the room slightly. A queen-sized bed swallowed almost the entire space. In the corner, a bowl of condoms and large box of tissues were on a small table. ‘See that bed?’ Karl asked. ‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Get on.’ I obeyed the directive and landed on the firmest mattress I had ever felt. ‘These beds are official “prison standard”,’ Karl announced. ‘You can feel the extra reinforcement in the mattress, can’t you?’ I couldn’t argue: it was harder than a pole vaulter’s calf muscles. ‘Of course, we need to ensure our beds can support all the activity that takes place upon them,’ Karl said. ‘And notice the coverings we’ve installed. That’s a heavy duty, synthetic material we can easily clean. If we had sheets or duvets, they would be ruined in an hour.’ Karl stood back proudly, admiring the room. ‘Yes, these heavy duty covers have proven an absolute godsend,’ he said. ‘You can imagine what it’s like with two men going at it sometimes. When one pulls out, they can frequently leave a deposit on the mattress, which depends on what they may have eaten before they came out to see us. We can’t control that… Would you do me a favour…?’ Karl asked. ‘Sure,’ I said. He pointed to my ear and said: ‘Hand me that condom wrapper, would you?’ I then realised what I was lying next to and carefully handed over the two small halves, which Karl disposed of in a nearby bin.

He walked us down the windowless corridor. I tried to keep my eyes straight ahead and not look at what was going on in each room. I felt awkward but also nervous, uncertain of what awaited us. The air was becoming stuffier, the black walls closed in. The only noise I could hear was troubling: another hardcore pornographic film blaring from the end of the corridor. ‘I want to show you the final two rooms,’ Karl said. The room on the right had an intricate series of wooden latticework on the ceiling, with long metal chains hanging down into the room. There was no bed. ‘This is for our more boisterous clients,’ Karl said, ‘and the same with the room opposite.’ That room contained another large TV with the feature film I’d heard grunting earlier. In the middle was a heavy leather sling stretched slung across the room like an enormous spider’s web in a dungeon. ‘Yes, I’ve enjoyed many an evening in here,’ Karl said fondly. ‘Sometimes I participate, sometimes I just watch. But we really must do something about the floor in here…’ I looked down to see the floor covering was chipboard and covered with all manner of stubborn stains that someone had unsuccessfully tried to remove.

We returned downstairs to the main corridor where several new men had appeared, wearing only white fluffy towels. They greeted us pleasantly; ‘Hi,’ I squeaked in reply. One man was leaning against a wall, watching a film on yet another TV screen. He was fully clothed, neat and tidy, as if he was about to go and play a round of golf. ‘This is our local chaplain,’ Karl informed us. The man laughed. ‘Don’t believe a word this old bastard says,’ he replied.

We returned to the front part of the shop where Bruce was sitting behind the counter looking bored. ‘How’d you go?’ he exhaled. We recounted our tales of heroic survival. Bruce smiled knowingly. ‘Glad you liked it,’ he said. ‘Come again anytime, as visitors or customers.’

With the tour over, we thanked our hosts and returned to the blinding natural light of the car park. As we emerged, it was only then I noticed the sheer number of tradesmen’s vehicles that were parked out front. Utes, trucks, vans, panel vans. I wouldn’t be able to look at macho guys in those hi-vis shirts quite the same again.

Peter Papathanasiou was born in a small village in northern Greece and adopted as a baby to an Australian family. His writing has been published by Fairfax Media, News Corporation, Caught by the River, and The Pigeonhole. His debut novel is being represented by Rogers, Coleridge & White literary agents. He divides his time between Australia, London, and a small village in northern Greece. Twitter: @peteplastic

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After seeing that someone’s jerking off in his direction, Kyle is more committed than ever to getting out of the club.

That is until he comes across an injured guy who bends over and asks Kyle to pull a rubber fist out of his bottom after getting it stuck.

‘This guy thinks I’m going to help pull it out?! Get the f*ck out of here!’

He eventually makes it to doors where he yells ‘YOU SICK B*STARD’ to the door man before hailing a cab and finally getting home.

‘That was my experience at the “world’s coolest night club”. I can handle a lot of stuff, but this place was WAY over the top.

Kyle’s post seems to have since been deleted from Yelp – but not before everyone had taken a screenshot.

THIS YELP REVIEW OF BERGHAIN IS ONE OF THE BEST THINGS I’VE EVER READ

Just to clarify, we think people can and should do what they want to do (as long as it’s consensual) in these sorts of places – particularly as Berghain isn’t exactly a mainstream, free-for-all, all-access club.

And Berghain isn’t actually a gay sex club – there are dark rooms, but there’s also a massive stage and dancing space. So maybe Kyle just freaked out before he got a chance to actually explore the club fully.

But either way, this sort of therapy-post is exactly what Yelp was made for.

MORE : Restaurant hits back at negative Yelp review by claiming customer sh*t her pants

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They’re basically no different from any other club, except that there’s usually way more guys, earsplitting EDM and better live performances.

But accidentally finding yourself in a gay sex dark room at a club is a different kettle of fish all together – as one straight guy from San Antonio found out to his surprise.

Kyle was on holiday in Berlin when he met two guys from London at his hotel bar.

Being a loose end, he asked them whether he could tag along for the evening. The trio ended up at Berghain – the infamous techno club synonymous with decadence and hedonism – and which has rooms reserved for all sorts of non-vanilla fun.

It is one of the most exclusive clubs in town, difficult to get into and with a strict no photos policy (for obvious reasons) – as well as an anything goes approach to sex, drugs and everything else.

And due the nature of the club, most people operate on a ‘what happens in Berghain, stays in Berghain’ basis.

Kyle decided to share/warn about his experiences via a hilariously/disturbingly honest one star Yelp review

First things first, Kyle wasn’t happy about the ‘super long line’ outside the building.

‘While we are standing there looking for the spot to cut, I take out my phone to check Facebook,’ he writes.

‘One of the London guys goes into a rage and starts cussing me out and grabs my phone yelling: “DON’T LOOK AT YOUR PHONE. DON’T USE IT! THEY WON’T LET US IN!”‘

‘On my way to grab a beer, I pass in disbelief, a bearded guy butt f*cking the crap out of another bearded dude. You could smell feces and sweat.

‘I take my eyes off of that situation and it only gets worse. There’s another guy, and I kid you not…he’s got his arm, almost to his elbow, up another guy’s ass! I thought it was a magic trick or an illusion. It WASN’T!’

Just as Kyle’s had enough for one night, he remembers that his phone is still with one of the London guys – so has to schlep back through to club to find him…

‘Now there are naked guys everywhere! Sucking each other off. Fisting each other. There was one dude that was riding another guy (cowgirl style) and yelling “Balles Tief!”… I ask the dude next to me, “What’s he screamin’?!” and he informs me “Balles Tief” is German for “Balls Deep”.

Someone then tries to inject him with something to ‘keep wake and make you high’ before the club explodes with sirens and whistles – marking the beginning of something called ‘Slip and Slide time’.

‘100s of guys, the ones who aren’t already naked, drop their pants and start masturbating on the dance floor.

‘Evidently, you are supposed to ejaculate on the floor and make it slippy and then naked guys go sliding through it!’