Tracey Parker is an urban explorer and gay cruising fanatic who travels around the world searching for and presenting alternative gay lifestyles and experiences. After sharing his recent visit to Cómplices Spa, and his hot erotic adventure at the gay male sauna Cabinas de Las 63 in Bogotá Colombia, he shares another gay sauna in Bogotá, Saint Moritz, where men can have a hot and horny good time.
Sauna St Moritz has a plain entrance: a staircase between two nondescript businesses on an unremarkable street in El Chapinero, Bogotá, Colombia.
Close by to Plaza Lourdes, which used to be a hotspot for gay cruising and gay hustlers, has also been recently cleaned up.
Like so many places in Latin America, there is a dark erotic energy that remains in Plaza Lourdes, even though the hustlers, trans girls, and cruisers are no longer there.
I walked up the Sauna St Moritz stairs and paid the front desk attendant.
As I was paying, a tall, handsome, muscular guy approached the counter, squeezed himself between me and the wall, and leaned back, showing himself off. He was shirtless, and his hairy chest had a delicious musty smell that came off of it.
He had a young smiling face and was very handsome. He was eager to connect with me while also being very respectful of what I was doing with the cashier. I ignored him. I had a good guess of what was happening and felt I would be running into this guy again.
Sauna St Moritz is a clean, comfortable, minimalist facility with plants and dim-colored lighting that gives it a sexy vibe. I came on a Wednesday when they offered a discount if you declined the towel and went in naked.
I noticed immediately that everybody, in typical Colombian modest fashion, chose to forgo the discount and pay extra for the towel. As I entered the facility, I felt a slight discomfort as I saw I was one of the few walking around completely naked. But nobody seemed to care, and I tried to move through the emotion.
The first floor had a nice area with a TV showing a soccer game involving the Colombian national team. There were sofas and plants, and it was a comfortable, chill environment. When I walked in, two guys were seated. It was obvious that they were massage guys. Unlike many North American gay bathhouses, European and South American gay saunas tend to have additional spa services, like massage boys and even tantric massage. Their eyes were looking around the club for clients.
Upstairs was a maze/steam room with a large jacuzzi in the middle. I love that the saunas in Colombia all seem to have jacuzzis; this is especially appropriate in Bogota, which is so high in altitude and where the weather is always chilly and often rainy.
I got in the jacuzzi and began talking to a guy around my age. We made small talk, and I was disappointed he didn’t have much to say. He wanted sex, but it seemed like he was waiting for me to make a move. I was open to something happening but had no desire to initiate. There was an awkward dynamic between us, and I was beginning to feel that the only way to eliminate it would have been for me to make a move. But I didn’t. Like many men looking for a gay hookup at the sauna, I was waiting for more, that specific spark.
Despite his weird flirting, I enjoyed being in the hot tub with my new friend. It was not a busy night, but a steady flow of guys remained wandering around the steamy maze. My seat in the hot tub gave me a great view of all of them. I really love the weekday vibe of the saunas in Bogota. They are way too crowded on the weekends, but on the weeknights, they are large enough to feel empty but crowded enough to guarantee finding some friends or whatever sex you’re looking for.
I was so content that I lost track of how hot I was. A hot tub inside a steam room was double the heat and the sweat. I told my friend I was going to get out. I showered beside some handsome guys. They weren’t talking to each other, but I could feel the energy between them. It felt like they had just fucked; they had said their goodbyes, they hadn’t planned to run into each other in the shower and neither knew what to say. I went down to the living room to watch the soccer game.
I sat down, and my sauna friend was already there. He was sitting beside me and not saying anything. I felt he was waiting for me to do something and I wasn’t trying to figure out what.
On my other side was a massage guy I saw watching the game when I arrived. He was flirting with me. He was staring, he was getting closer. He was sexy, and he quoted me $70K COP for a massage and $150K COP for servicio morbo additional.
That was a low price (that day, 150,000 Colombian Pesos was about $35 bucks USD), so I decided to go for it. Going with a guy who knew what he wanted was much preferable.
He showed me to a private room with a massage table inside. It was a cold room without the nice touches of plants or lighting that made the larger club so lovely.
He began the massage and was light to the touch. I shouldn’t expect an intense sports massage at the sauna, but it was nice, relaxing, and felt good, and the price was cheap as hell, so I just went with it.
I was enjoying his caress, and slowly he began to place my hands on his cock, and I began to jerk it off and make it hard. It felt amazing in my hands. It was so long that it curved, and I enjoyed the top part, which seemed to be the thickest part.
As much as I was enjoying his cock, he seemed to stop the massage once things turned sexual. He relocated himself so that his cock was right in front of my face. I opened my mouth, and he softly placed the tip on my tongue, and slowly, I began devouring him. I had brought some poppers in with me which I breathed in and began to lose myself in a trance around his beautiful organ.
I turned over onto my back and asked him to play with my cock, which he did obediently. This man was acting like an oversized sex toy, not acting unless I requested. He jerked me off with his slippery, oily hand while I continued to feast on his dick like a black hole of desire.
I opened my legs and waited for him to begin to play with my asshole. I asked him to finger me, but my Spanish was incomprehensible, with a cock inside of my mouth.
I removed this throbbing penis, and he asked me if I wanted him to feed me his milk. His mouth said one thing, but his eyes offered more; I could tell he relied on me to tell him what to do. I told him to finger me.
He smiled slightly, took his girthy finger, and began to play with my hole. He didn’t get very far inside. With the poppers still having a light buzz and my intent to take one large inhale again soon, I was pretty excited already. I put his cock back inside my mouth and began to suck.
Under the influence of the poppers, I imagined how good his cock would feel inside of me; his fingers and hairy, oily forearm felt so hot against my ass.
I wanted more; I wanted him to take control, flip me over, take that dick out of my mouth and plunge his meat deep inside my now very lubed hole. I imagined what this thick, girthy dick would do in me, how long he would last, how every last bit of cum would feel, painting the insides of me.
However, I also knew these promised “additional services” with the massage he mentioned were what we were doing right now, nothing more, nothing less. I returned to the reality of the situation.
I was fine taking care of myself from here while still gorging on a thick dick; I sucked hard and let the thick shaft and wet mushroom head tickle the back of my eager throat.
I reached around and finished myself off pretty quickly and returned to my dream scenario, eyes closed deep; a world where this very hot man raped my hole. I sucked harder, working every inch of the throbbing cock in my mouth, feeling it twitch, the masseuse moan and whisper words I couldn’t hear precisely. It wasn’t long until I was close, and without giving any warning, I came all over my oiled stomach.
Without much warning, I was pleasantly surprised to feel a hot load of cum spill out the side of my mouth; I choked on some of the hot jizz as I swallowed some down my throat. The masseuse was much closer to cumming than I thought he was; I guess in my poppers-daze, he got to feed his “man milk” to me in the end.
I put my hands behind my head and looked him in the eye, wondering what he would do next, but it was clear with both of us spent, this was the end of the “massage” session.
As he got dressed, we argued about the price. He miscommunicated the total, and I surprised him with my firm response to the agreed price. He relented. Even without a towel, buck naked, and feeling freshly drained and a little lightheaded from the poppers, I still had an understanding of what was happening. I wasn’t gonna let this hottie with a fat dick persuade me to pay more than what we agreed.
However, I did slink out of the room, feeling a little guilty, essentially stiffing this man (not in a good way) from his expected money. My braveness at the moment settled inside me, and I found myself heading back to the jacuzzi one more time, but the thought of the hot, hot heat when I was all lightweight from the poppers and the weekday crowd now smaller than before my massage session, I decided to check out for the evening.
I want to go back to Sauna Saint Moritz. The vibe was incredible, and I saw many other guys walking around who I would have loved to meet—next time.
