Sauna Stories 4

Amsterdam

The steam in Amsterdam’s Thermos sauna enveloped the room like a lover’s breath, thick and hazy, carrying the earthy musk of sweat-soaked fur and the faint tang of poppers. Pieter, fifty-eight, a hulking Dutch bear with a barrel chest matted in silver-black curls that trailed down his gut to a nest of pubic hair framing his thick, uncut cock, slumped on the tiled bench. His skin glistened, beads of moisture tracing rivulets through his pelt. Across from him sat Bruno, fifty-five, an Italian expat built like a rugby prop—broad shoulders, furry pecs heaving with each breath, his belly protruding proudly over a cock already half-hard, foreskin slick and retracted to reveal a bulbous, veined head.

Their eyes met through the fog, a silent agreement forged in the heat. Pieter stood first, his heavy balls swinging as he crossed the narrow space. Bruno spread his thighs, inviting. The steam room wasn’t empty; shadows shifted on the benches—a half-dozen men, towels discarded, watched with hungry eyes, fists already pumping slowly on their own cocks.

Pieter dropped to his knees on the wet tiles, the heat biting into his skin. He buried his face in Bruno’s crotch, inhaling the ripe scent of balls and arse. His tongue lapped at the sweat-salted fur, then dove lower, rimming Bruno’s hairy hole with sloppy, probing strokes. Bruno groaned, a deep rumble, gripping Pieter’s salt-and-pepper hair as he spread wider, exposing the puckered ring matted with dark curls. Pieter’s beard scratched against the sensitive skin, his tongue thrusting in, tasting the musky depths while his own cock throbbed against his thigh, leaking pre-cum in sticky strings.