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Last Saturday was my birthday. I decided that rather than spend it alone at my house with the cat (a poor conversationalist) I would depart early for the Vapors bathhouse in Louisville and hope that some generous Top(s) would offer me loads of birthday presents, and basically fuck me in two. I planned to leave late in the afternoon, so eI burned a little time during the day watching Netflix, specifically an episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine in which members of the station crew accidentally travel to the Mirror Universe. I only mention this because a ) it seems to have set the theme for the evening that followed, and b ) I hope maybe it will entice some of you more geeky types to fuck me - it never hurts to try. I started out heading to the local ABS, 7 minutes from my house, to buy a new bottle of poppers, because mine seemed to have lost some of its jolt. When I got there, the packed parking lot made me think: Hm! Perhaps the hour's drive to Louisville is surplus to needs... So I put on my silver servicee collar, went in, bought my poppers and entered the theater. I went directly to the gay theater, stripped down in front of a dimly lit room full of six or seven seated men, who promptly... remained seated. Until they eventually left, and were replaced by men who sat in their places and did not shift. They watched the gay porn, which was playing with muted volume while the straight porn from the next room blasted its volume loud enough for both. Eventually I noticed one guy jerking himself slowly, occasionally glancing at me, so I got up and sat by him, and whispered in his ear, "Would you like some help with that?" "No," he said, "there's an audience." I stayed 45 minutes without so much as a nod-come-hither from any of those Woody Wallflowers, and then I got dressed and left for Louisville. Think of that as my tumble down the rabbit hole into the bizarre. When I got to Vapors, I had barely got into my room and undressed when a college-age guy of probably Indian/Pakistani descent came in. It was his first time at the bathhouse (he said) and he asked about what people did and what there was to do. I explained about the facilities and the rooms, and that basically guys got it on just about anywhere, and what did he like? He topped, he said (joy) and would I like to play around (no shit) so he climbed on my bed and we got to it. Magnificent cock - just beautiful - at least 9.5" and not too thick. A superb fucking instrument. My pulse quickened a little at the thought of feeling it shafted all the way to the root into my tight ass, and I was going to reward him so-o-o-o well. But not instantly; I wanted some tongue time with it first, and he let me have it, until he finally said, "Can I fuck you?" My dear boy, how many angels can you fit on the head of a pin? That's a question you simply don't bother to ask. Yes, fuck me infinitely, world without end, Amen. He got me on hands and knees, lined me up, stuck the head in - My ass spasmed. This happens with me often on the first fuck of the day/night/session/whatever. I'll get a spasm of pain on entry, and have the Top pull out, wait five seconds until it subsides, and then I can take whatever get shoved into me all night, no problem. This time, I asked him to pull out, I waited five seconds, then told him to come back in. I felt his cockhead rub across my wet pussy, but he didn't re-enter. After a minute, he said, "I'm sorry - I already came." He came from sticking the tip in and pulling it out. I invited him to return after he recharged, but he never did. He just left his load soaked into my sheets. After that, crickets. By now it was 10pm Eastern Time on a Saturday night, and there was no one around in a city bathhouse. It was cold out, but for pity's sake... I finally got up, took a solitary steam and soak in the whirlpool, and then went upstairs to see if anyone had encamped in the TV room. I did find one guy there - I almost overlooked him, seated with his back in the shadows, jacking off slowly to the porn on the screen. I just stood in the doorway for two or three minutes while the clip finished, and then the guy got up and headed toward the door and me. Suddenly he stopped, and said, "Oh! I didn't see you there." He reached out and started touching me immediately, saying, "Is this okay?" and within a minute and a half the one-sided conversation had escalated to "Would you like to come to my room?" Why the fuck not? He was grinning like a Cheshire Cat the whole time, from the moment he saw me, and I have to admit there was something charismatically chemical - or perhaps chemically charismatic - about him. I'm mildly autistic, so other people's charisma usually just bounces off me with no effect, but this guy had me from the word "ho". We got to his room and the making out began. Normally it takes a hell of a lot to get me honestly hard, but he had me performance-hard with just a few caresses, and within five minutes, he was lying on his back on his bed with his ass tilted up for me to fuck him, and I, total bottom who had not entered another man in over a dozen years, did. After some thrusting, he climbed on top and finished me, before jacking off to a shuddering orgasm that shot clear over my shoulder with me still inside him. Then we did it all over again. After I took my leave, I went back, cleaned off, and resumed my station. I did take one load from a rather modestly-dicked man, and then I looked over my shoulder to see a line of three more waiting. The next one came in, looked at me closely, then went back out. When I turned around a moment later, they were all gone, like someone had shouted, "Clean cup!" and everyone suddenly had to jump up and change to a different place altogether without any reason whatever. Then, more crickets for half an hour. At last, my CL notice announcing me as a bottom taking anon loads got a bite, a man who wanted to know if I could come to him, not far away. I though, well, it's one certain fuck-and-load, versus possibly nothing really satisfying the rest of the evening at the bathhouse, so I dressed, packed my things, and checked out. While I was checking out, a sudden influx of men began coming in, perhaps six or seven, mostly individual, mixed ages, making me wonder if I had just made a horrid mistake. But the deed was done, and I went off to get my one certain birthday fuck. I arrived ten minutes later at a darkened apartment in which my summoner sat naked on a hard wood floor, evidently wanting to take the 'anon' part very seriously. He asked if I had any poppers, and said he had only used the kind that I had in my old bottle, so I pulled that out for him. I asked him what he liked, and he said, "I like to be fucked." Oh. Shit. He hadn't understood the ad. But I'm a sexual service submissive, and once I answer a call I don't just walk out if I can serve in some capacity. And I had, after all, just fucked another man, twice. "I can't promise you I'll be able to fuck you in a way that will satisfy you," I said. "Well, maybe you could just fist me," he replied. Wh-whathe-forcrying- I had never been fisted before, much less fisted someone else. I've studied up on fisting because I've seriously considered allowing a Dom to do it to me before, and I still may, but I had had no actual practicum. I told him so. He went into the other room and returned shortly with a towel, a two-cup glass measuring container full of resonstituted powdered ass lube, several pair of latex gloves, and a huge spreading dildo that he had been using to gradually train himself open. I sighed. "Have you ever taken a fist before?" I asked. "No. I had a guy try once, but he wasn't any good." "Look at my hands," I said. "My hands aren't huge, but they aren't petite, either. I know the basic theory for fisting, and I am familiar with the anatomy involved, and know the principal things to be cautious about. I cannot promise you that you will succeed tonight, but if this is what you want to do, I will try." We went to his bedroom, and I realized that if I was going to have any hope of relaxing him enough for this, I was going to have to start with massage. I gave him the abridged version of what I call my "high-risk" massage - the one that is risky because if I give it I stand a fair chance of leaving the Top either too relaxed to function, or outright asleep. His back was like one of the Red Queen's playing card soldiers, stiff and unyielding, but I finally got him relaxed enough to begin, and I discovered that he must have been using that stretching dildo fairly regularly. Then, for some utterly bizarre and, to me, inexplicable reason, it suddenly occurred to me that what his ass needed to relax better was a good fucking. So, for the third time that night, I, a total bottom, fucked a man. I didn't cum this time, but I gave a performance that I would have appreciated myself had I been the recipient. After that, he had indeed opened further, and, long story short, after about 20 more slow, careful minutes and lots of incredibly messy lube, I was up to my wrist in his ass - his first fist, and a milestone for him. "You're just awesome," he told me afterward. By the time I was ready to leave Louisville it was 5:30am, time for Krispy Kreme Doughnuts to open, so I stopped there and got a dozen. When I came out, I felt oddly as though I had stepped back through the Fucking Glass into the real world. I have absolutely no desire to fuck anybody. I am the fuckee, the cunt, the bitch, the boy pussy. I love it that way. In that Mirror Universe I saw another me who lived another way, and his sex life fucking weirded me out. As for loading me up on my birthday, thanks for nothing, Louisville. (The guy I fucked twice, by the way, was visiting from Nashville.) As for the rest of you, especially you geeks like me, live long and prosper.