Tracey Parker is an urban explorer, based in Mexico City, who discovers and presents unique gay cultures around the world; after sharing with Squirt members the steamy hookups in places like Medellin, Colombia and his last piece on the hot cruising spot and gay campground, Oneida Campground, in Milford, Pennsylvania, where the fucking is aplenty.
I’ve always loved the simplicity of Club H&J, a simple space on the 4th floor of a commercial office building in a chaotic, busy neighborhood in Mexico City.
There are taco restaurants on either side of the stairwell doorway, and on your way up the stairs, you pass a dental office and another sex club called Antifaz on the second floor.
But inside this simple space, sexual fantasies are created as well as a laid-back social atmosphere to hang out and relax among anonymous friends and a few beers.
Last week, I paid a visit to this club, and not much had changed. I entered a living room area which doubles as a bar and a reception desk. There is an eclectic collection of sofas that make a horseshoe around the other three walls. There is a door with a curtain into the other room of the two-room club.
The other room is a simple, or classic, gay darkroom with an even more eclectic collection of sofas and mattresses. There is a speaker that plays dance music perfect for fucking, and soft neon lighting.
Upon entering, I noticed a few young Mexican millennials sitting on the couches in their underwear, socks, and tennis shoes, scrolling through their phones. Each of them was wearing some black mesh fanny pack, which usually contained the same items: poppers, condoms, lube, and a cellphone when it wasn’t in use.
It was quiet. It was around 5 PM. The cover was reduced if you arrived before 6, and that usually guaranteed that the club would fill up quickly.
Not too many came today, though. There were a few more guys in the dark room, but each was sitting down alone, just relaxing. There was an energy inside the place that felt like something was about to happen.
I took my seat in the first room so I could watch as people walked in. You would hear the doorbell ring, and the attendant would put his phone down, push aside the curtain, and let in whoever was waiting. They would then both reenter together.
The guy who came in this time was my type. He was tall, slim, and young, an office worker looking for a little after-work hookup fun. He had a plain face that revealed nothing.
His plain face made me start to wonder about him. The attendant at the desk reached below the desk and retrieved a shoebox containing all the poppers for sale.
The club has a promotion: buy poppers and get your admission free. I took this as a sign that this guy was here to play hard.
The living room doubled as a changing room. When Office Boy finished paying, he set his backpack down right next to me and began taking off his clothes.
First, he removed his shirt, revealing his soft, brown, slim, hairless body. A faint scent of laundry, body heat, and soap came off his body as he removed his clothes.
He unbuckled his belt and took off his pants in a very nonchalant way. He was performing, but there was nothing showy about what he was doing. He let what was happening be the entire show.
He was wearing red mesh underwear, which fit his slim body loosely and carried his low-hanging bulge snugly. Black hairs grew out in an organized, tame manner in all directions. He folded each item of clothing and, one by one, put each in his backpack.
We began to make eye contact, and by this time, both of us knew that we were going to destroy each other on the other side of the curtain.
He checked his bag and gave it to the attendant, and disappeared into the solo bathroom. I got up and took my place inside the dark room and waited for my prey to arrive so I could feast on him.
It took him a while to come in. The private bathroom, like many gay sex clubs or for-sex facilities, allows for some douching for NSA play, so you can be prepared for what awaits you.
Once he did come in, he walked around the dark room once before making eye contact with me.
He stood in front of me and grabbed my cock right away. My cock wasn’t hard yet. I put my hands on his body, which had fascinated me so much out in the changing room. I let my hands explore all over him. I touched his face tenderly, felt the 5 o’clock shadow that was growing against my skin, grazed his lips, and felt my cock getting harder in his hands.
I reached the top of his head and gently pushed it down so he could start sucking me off.
He pulled down my underwear and began to go down on my cock. It was growing larger and larger inside his mouth. I pulled his hair, letting him know who was in charge.
Some of the other guys in the club began to surround us. Fortunately, his ass was inaccessible to them because he was on his knees with my cock in his mouth.
I decided to lead him over to one of the couches so I could have him to myself. Instead of sitting down, he stood over the couch, placed his hands on the wall, and spread his legs.
My cock was hard and bulging, and I spat down onto it. I took some of the loogie and dabbed it onto Office Boy’s hole, fingering the tight, eager ass. I could tell he had already placed lube on it. He was ready for me, and I just stuck myself inside while he yelped out in pleasure.
His screams got lost in the techno music, and I could only hear him faintly, but his sounds enticed me to go wild on him.
I fucked him as long as I could in this position and then took him over to a mattress in the middle of the room so I could lie him down and get further inside of him.
There was now a small crowd in the club, and men were pacing around the dark room. Some were fucking on other mattresses and sofas, others stood close to us and watched what we were doing.
I lay him on his back and slid right into him with his legs up in the air. Under the light, he looked like a young guy I had seen in a porno video, whom I had assumed was out of my league. And here I was pounding the life out of him on a Tuesday afternoon after he got off work.
I was fucking him so hard that he kept moving back on the mattress, so eventually I had to get onto the mattress myself. I turned him onto his side and started pounding him sideways. I could feel I was deeper inside of him than I had been before. He was moaning and asking me not to stop.
We transitioned from doggy-style, missionary again, then to a bunch of other gay sex positions I don’t know the names for; we tried everything, trying to get ourselves arranged precisely on the mattress and fucking. We’d get a little tired and lie down beside each other and catch our breath, and then go at it again.
Eventually, I was about to cum inside of him, my eyes showing a near “O” face that the Office Boy must have picked up on; he nodded with eagerness, but then gestured for me to pull out, slowing sliding off my cock and getting on his knees and ready to take my load all over his face.
The eagerness for a gay facial was either that he didn’t want me to cum in him, or he was eager to take my load all over his face. I didn’t argue and as I jerked my cock to completion, shooting a big ass cumshot all over his cute face, allowing the jizz to dripple down his lips into that adorable facial stubble, his reaction gave me the impression that it was more the latter: he was a cum whore that loved the feeling of spunk all over him, making him a messy little slut.
I got up and gave him a little kiss, getting a little bit of myself on my face; soon, Office Boy disappeared, probably to clean himself up.
I wasn’t as messy as I thought I’d be, with most of my cum landing on my hookup trick. I eventually found a napkin or tissue to clean up a bit, and then made my way back to the living room area.
Once there, I saw the attendant now had a friend present who was chatting with him. I liked his friend, but he was in full street clothes, so I knew he was just here to chat. He curiously walked around the club when he wanted to look, but he didn’t talk or look at anybody but the attendant.
I retrieved my phone and began going through my messages, pondering this place and its unusualness, and how I had never encountered anything like it outside of Mexico City. The nonchalant attitude about sex, the sexual intensity juxtaposed with socializing. I usually don’t see those two things go together that often.
Once a month, they have a party on Friday night. There are party favors like weed brownies, or things like that. The crowd is so eclectic; it’s a mix of working men, young twinks and horny femboys, office workers, and everything in between. The monthly parties run until early morning, but most other nights they are open from 4:00 PM until 10:00 PM.
I was expecting the guy I had fucked to come out of the dark room and talk to me. Maybe I could get us both a beer? But after a while, I realized what was probably happening was that somebody else was fucking him in the dark room now.
I went back in and sure enough somebody else was fucking him and he was sucking off another. I would say “you snooze you lose,” but given I got my “desired result,” I couldn’t blame the guy for wanting to get some more fun for himself soon, finally emptying that load in that beautiful dick into someone else who wanted a taste of their own.
I took a seat by myself and jerked myself off as I was watching this hot three-way; another load was possible, but a little more forced than I wanted to be.
I sat and watched them a little longer until I realized it was time for me to go. I went back out to the living room and asked for my checked things. They handed them to me in a laundry bag with a number 3 on it.
I chatted with the attendant and his friend a little before saying goodbye. They told me about the different theme nights they had, including Bear Night, 2×1 Night, and others.
I reentered the street and began to walk among the normal people, feeling vastly different from them in light of what had just happened a few floors above us. My naughty secret that slowly dissipated as I reentered the street and made my way back, the sexy feeling floating off me into the evening air until it was just another memory.
