Gay Massage Mexico City

The following is a story about a gay massage in Mexico City which are offered in most of the steam rooms in Mexico City.

Gay Mexico City Bathhouse Reviews

I think it represents the type of massage experiences that are possible in Mexican Gay Bathhouses. But what actually happens for you will depend on many factors. If you’re looking for a local experience that will broaden your idea of gay sexuality, sample chapter 1 below.

Baños Tlalpan – Gay Massage Story

I had heard many times that Baños Rocío, in Colonia Portales, was a place where the young college guys liked to go on Thursdays. While this made me very interested, because I love college guys, I never went, because I always find plenty of college guys in any bathhouse that I go to no matter when or where. But later I joined a gay book club through the gay bookstore, Somos Voces, in Zona rosa. The first book we read, Hubo un Vez Antes del SIDA, by Pablo Leder, made specific mention of this same bathhouse being a favorite of college guys on Thursdays. The next afternoon when I found myself unable to write productively, I decided spontaneously to head over to Baños Rocío on Calzada del Tlalpan. 

Tracey Parker’s Guide to all the Gay Bars in Mexico City

Calzada del Tlalpan is a 6 lane highway that goes south from La Catedral Metropolitana in downtown Mexico City to Coyacan. Before the Spanish, when Downtown Mexico City was an island in the middle of a lake surrounded by mountains, Calzada del Tlalpan was a land bridge that connected the island to the shore. Anytime I make a trip down this road I am reminded of the majestic scene of the series Hernan, by Amazon prime, where Hernan Cortez and his army marched down this Calzada and discovered the ancient city of Tenochtitlan. Today, the lake has been filled-in to accommodate one of the largest cities in the world. The land bridge is now a 6 lane highway, three in each direction. There is a metro line that runs in the middle. Pedestrian bridges connect the metro stations in the middle of the highway to the sidewalks on the outside. Each side of the grand calzada is bursting with commerce. Tacos, magazines, and female prostitutes are sold in the streets while electronics and consumer goods, and restaurant food is sold behind the windows of the businesses. 

Nestled into all of this is the quiet and peaceful Baños Rocío. An old bath house facility with its own ancient history. Rows of private changing rooms greet you as you enter. After selecting a room and changing from your street clothes to a towel, you make your way into the showers. The shower room is rectangular and three of the 4 sides are lined with shower heads where men shower publicly. Frosted rectangular windows above the shower heads let the light in. The fourth side consists of a massage area and two doors on either side which lead to group steam rooms. 

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This is the layout of most of the bathhouses in Mexico City. The only thing that surprised me was the emphasis on massage. Several men offered me a massage on my way into the steam room. I declined simply by ignoring them. This is custom in Mexico. When I entered the shower area I saw that there were two massages already in progress. One of the masajistas was very young and handsome and he caught my eye. I wasn’t accustomed to seeing masajistas so young in the bathhouses. Normally I go to meet the young guys in the steam room and if I want a massage I usually go to older, strictly professional masajistas. The dynamic in most of the Mexico City bathhouses is that you flirt with the other customers and the people working there, including the masajistas, were ghosts who made the place run but rarely socialized with the clientele. Something was different here. 

I walked directly up to the handsome masajista who caught my eye and asked him if I could be the next in line. He kindly said yes and I told him I’d be in the steam room. He told me he’d call me when he was ready.  I spent some time in the steam room, stretched my legs and played around a little with the other guys there. When I came out to cool off the young masajista, who I later learned was named Juan, was finished with his previous client. He had already prepared the massage table for me and he was lying down on it himself talking to his friend who was giving a massage. 

The massage area had a cool kids table kind of vibe about it. The masajistas were handsome and young. But not handsome like you would see on the bill boards. While the world seemed to favor square angular skinny guys with cut muscles, these young men were round, but still slim and fit in their own way. Their hair was parted in the middle, as I had seen on many of the indigenous people, but rarely had I seen this style on the guys in Mexico City. 

Before the massage he pinched my nipple in a friendly flirty way. He asked me if I liked it when people touched me there. I told him yes. His friend who was giving a massage next to us chimed in in Spanish and made Juan laugh. Both of them laughed together and both of us clients began to laugh as well. Suddenly we were 4 male friends laughing together and talking about our bodies. 

Somehow Juan had found a way to cut through the sexual tension that seemed to develop between me and other male masajistas around the world. During most massages the sexual desire seems to build and build and build with no guarantee that satisfaction will result at the end. Even when it does it seems to be a dirty afterthought after a physical experience. Here they looked the sex right in the eye and laughed. Everything fell into place. I knew they were straight and they knew I was gay. They knew what was happening behind the doors of the steam rooms and they knew their place was outside. But still they connected with us through the desire we all felt. We commented as humans. 

They asked me where I was from and I told them I was from the United States but that I had lived here in Mexico City for 4 years. They complimented me on my Spanish and I asked them if they too were from Mexico City. They told me they were from a small pueblo in Oaxaca. This explained how they looked. They looked like Oaxaqueños, people from Oaxaca, another state in Mexico famous for maintaining its indigenous culture and language despite the Spanish conquest. I told them about the book I had read that talked about this very steam room and how the masajistas were from a pueblo in Oaxaca. They told me that the men from his town have been coming to work in this bathhouse for generations. 

They told me about their pueblo. How it was located on an island in the middle of a large lake. Quickly the conversation returned to a sexual place when they told me that everybody ‘fucks well’ in their pueblo. The idea of an entire town fucking well is very hard to transmit in English. Only the Spanish language can describe the low key and fun disposition toward sexual activity that existed in this town and to a larger extent in all of Mexico. I asked him to explain more but it wasn’t really something he had ever explained. It was just who he was. The best he could do is tell me that if you go down to the river at night you can find whatever you are looking for. Basically he was telling me about the cruising scene in his pueblo. I decided then that one day I would go there. 

After my massage was finished I spent a little more time in the steam room before I left. On my way out I saw that all of the employees were gathered together enjoying a meal. There was a large pot of leafy green vegetables in a chili tomato sauce with some type of meat. They were placing this ‘guisado’ on hot tortillas from a local store on Calzada del Tlalpan. When I opened the door from the shower area the youngest of the group, who I later learned was Juan’s little brother, jumped up to bring me a dry towel and unlock my private changing room. I changed with the door open and listened to my new friends enjoying their meal and smelled the delicious smells as they wafted across the room. My body felt invigorated and my mind so relaxed after enjoying the luxury of focusing on just my body, my breathing, and the experience around me for the past few hours. After saying goodbye, I walked along Calzada del Tlalpan, passed the prostitutes and taco stands and the thousands of other pedestrians. I felt so in-synch with the tides of history that wafted back and forth over this active land.

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Professional Male Masajistas Whom I Recommend

While the story above is hot and exciting, I imagine if you’re visiting Mexico City for a short visit you may want something more reliable and predictable. The following are a few professional masajistas who I have been to and I highly recommend.

Jeshua