As I'm taking a few days out of town, I thought you might enjoy reading a little blast from the past - in this entry, I describe my first trip to Montreal a couple years ago and what happened when I wanted to relax in the hotel hot tub. Enjoy this sensual tale... - Will
WHAT TO DO WHEN TWO GUYS ARE SCREWING IN THE HOTEL HOT TUB
So there have been some parts of this year that have been incredible, wonderful, amazing. I’ve never laughed as hard or as long as I have this year.
But there’s also this other part to this past year that I would delicately describe as a prolonged ‘shit storm’. Family, web, Bingo, day job stuff has made me on edge and although I think I’ve been handling it OK (maybe not brilliantly but definitely OK) I realized a few days ago that I could go no further in addressing and solving the crisises without a vacation. A real vacation. The kind where, you know, you loaf around. And then you loaf around some more. And then, whoops, I’m sorry I can’t talk right now, I’m too busy loafing. That kind of vacation.
So I chose this weekend to go Montreal. I’ve heard how great it is for years but never had the time and money at the same time.. but Thanksgiving weekend created a perfect storm and so here I am.
I discovered one of the better gay b and b’s through some online research, made the reservations over the phone on the train on the way up and arrived in Montreal a half hour earlier than expected. Wow, that never happens!
Upon arrival I discovered a promoter friend from New York was also staying here by complete coincidence. After some walking St. Catherines (the big gay street here) for a bit and scoping out the area, I returned to the hotel to grab a little sleep.
The promoter friend and I went out later last night to the dance club Parking and found it to be a rather good crowd. I was surprised that the downstairs bar, Tunnel, has a back room. Have those returned everywhere but in the States? Not that they hold my interest … a lot of furtive groping and zero light.. that’s a turn on for some but for me, I’d rather know whose hoo hah I’m holding on to.
I eventually left to check out the Black Eagle, the local leather bar and made friends with the bartender and closed down the joint finding companionship in a piece of halfway but not completely decent pizza. I ended the evening sitting naked in the hotel’s hot tub incredibly relaxed and happy to feel the stress unload from my body. Or at least start to.
Today I spent the day loping around the city taking pictures and falling for this place. I love the old world architecture, the ultra modern clothes, the scruffy look of the people (even the women!) and the geniality that pervades the city.
But as fun as criss crossing the city all day today was, by the time I got back about a half hour ago I just wanted to sit in the hot tub for a few minutes before I took a nap in preparation for tonight’s club adventures (part 2).
Well, you can imagine my surprise when I approached the hot tub room and heard some grunting. There’s a weight room down the hall (which, incidentally has a big picture window open to the street) and I thought the sounds much be coming from there. But nope, there were two guys just about to start screwing while straddling the hot tub.
This is not a family hotel.
Now at this moment there’s a little pop up window that appeared in front of me in mid air that said “you have a couple different choices here, what do you want to do?”
Do you A. simply walk away and come back later (but uhm maybe not until the hot tub has regenerated itself a couple times) or I could B. enter and be all nerdy “Hi Guys, What are you doing!? How was your day?” This would be lots of fun because I think people who have sex in public rely on other people to be shocked and just go away rather than say something. Tapping them on the shoulder and asking in my most Midwestern twang “hey, I’m not interrupting you or anything AM I??” But I’m not that much of a dick. Really. (But it does sound pretty fun, doesn’t it?)
Option C. was to simply walk in and sit on the bench next to the hot tub and watch or, if I was really brazen simply choose option D. and get into the other end of the hot tub and pretend as if nothing is happening. Both of which could also be fun.
Naturally the final option, E., is to simply join in and hope that I’m interested in them and they’re interested in me. This last option happens all the time in the Porn Universe but doesn’t really happen all that often back here on Planet Earth.
After weighing the options, I ended up going down the hall to work out a little. I know it’s a dull choice but I knew if I went in and tried to join in, the bad porn music would be playing in my head and I wouldn’t be able to stop laughing. This is one of the many by products of being in and reviewing a lot of gay porn. Sexual situations like these tend to suddenly become ironic.
As I did a few chest presses, the fucking-grunting commenced and I found that I was getting turned on, at least a little.
Because my corneas were burnt out when I opened the door to see the sight that I saw, but I didn’t really get a good look at the guys and now, with the grunting and huffing and puffing, I got curious who they were, what they looked like... it sounded like the bottom was getting pounded but good and I wanted to walk in and say "I'll have what he's having"...
I pushed open the door ever so slightly and found that they had shifted positions: bigger of the two guys was draped face front over the side of the hot tub and his buddy, lover, husband, guy he picked up on the street 20 minutes ago (?) was fucking him royally from behind standing in the hot tub.
The top was a wiry guy of about 50 who noticed me staring and grinned and for some odd reason I can only chalk up to some buried down deep button that has to always react to uncomfortable things in a humorous way, I simply gave him a big toothy smile and two thumbs up. I guess that’s the non verbal version of the nerdy inquiry that I had thought of doing before.
The door closed, the grunting resumed, I came up to my room and realized that not only did I get a good laugh out of it thus reducing my stress, but I now have a new masterbation scene to play in my head. Who needs porn??