In the gay scene it doesn’t really matter if you’re top or bottom. Hunter or prey, that’s the question.
Some go to gay saunas to hunt. Others go there to be hunted.
The ones that hunt walk around through barely lit areas filled with the occasional sound of humping men. Then there are the ones that preystitute themselves in strategic positions, waiting for their hunter to make a move whilst rejecting hunters they don’t find attractive.
I’ve always been a hunter, a hunter blessed with one superpower: I can sense when someone is into me. In a heartbeat. All I need is one second and I can tell if a person wants to have sex with me or not. I can even sense how much they want it.
Occasionally I will meet someone who I know wants to have sex with me. This happens to people all the time, but I am always aware when it happens. Even in the darkness of a gay sauna I can see that twinkle in people’s eyes when they like what they see.
In the case of Guy #34 I found myself in a sauna cabin crowded with a dozen hunters and one prey sitting silently on the top bench, naked and silently aroused. I sat down just within his personal space. I moved quickly and conquered his entire personal space in less than a minute. Guy #34 showed no visible reaction, physical or emotional, to anything I was doing. His enthusiasm was like that of a dead bird caught in the mouth of a bigger bird.
While I was starting to grow disappointed with my catch the other dozen hunters became aware of what was happening and wanted in on the fun.
Soon the entire sauna was all over Guy #34 and I found myself awkwardly entertaining his epicenter. Quickly everyone was in everybody’s space. I was turned off by the greediness of it, the way every hunter claimed Guy #34 as his rightful meal. It should be noted me and Guy #34 were the only ones not in our fifties or older.
I decided I didn’t want to have any part in what was happening. I got up and walked away, leaving Guy #34 to the mercy of a dozen hungry vultures. He continued allowing everyone as passively as he had allowed me. As I left the room I got a good look at his face for the first time. It was as static as blow-up doll.
I hope for Guy #34 he was into older men.
When I came by again some 15 minutes later Guy #34 was gone. What was left was the same pack I had left behind, each member quietly minding his own space again. I looked around for Guy #34, but I never saw or heard from him again.
It wasn’t really a good night for me. I had been rejected from a threesome earlier and now I had accidentally fed Guy #34 to the council of elders.
It’s not always easy being a hunter. It’s a setup for frequent failure if I’m being honest. Sure, occasionally you catch something you never want to let go off, but you always do somehow.
That’s why I believe a hunter should have faith in himself no matter what. It’s not about the failures. It’s about that one prey that would hunt you too.
A hunter has to stay positive: I’m a hunter with a superpower. I can sense when someone is into me.
In a heartbeat.
Or after I’ve seen their face. Or after people walk out of a threesome with me. It all depends really.