The dry sauna was empty. Two
tiered wooden benches on the right mirrored two layered benches on the left. I sat
on the right lower bench. I closed my eyes, lost in my thoughts, until someone
walked in. It was a smooth slim man who sat opposite me. A second punter joined
in: a grey haired man who took the left upper bench, above the first punter. He
was followed by an athletic hairy man in his 20s, Mediterranean looking. The
boy removed his towel, spread it on the bench above mine and sat on it with his
legs wide open. Despite my best efforts, however, I could not get a good view
of the boy’s genitalia: his knee was in the way and his arm cast a shadow. It was getting sweaty.
Then a bear walked in
and sat right next to the younger hairy man. Opposite the bear, on the lower
bench, appeared a middle aged punter
with a small blond moustache and receding hair. His gaze was focused on the hairy
boy’s crotch.
This boy was popular: a smooth blond jock took a seat on the lower
bench just below him and soon was his hand going up the boy’s leg, slowly
stroking his calf, his knee, his thigh, his thick pubic hair. Then his hand disappeared
between the boy’s legs, starting a rhythmic up and down movement. The glans of the
hairy boy’s penis appeared and disappeared between his thighs as he was
masturbated by the blond boy. Most punters minded their own business but the balding
moustachioed man’s stare was fixated on the boys. The hairy boy’s breathing pattern
changed, getting faster and faster, his hands tightly clutching the edge of the
bench. His upper body leaned forward and backward with jerky convulsions. As
his breathing got faster and louder, the moustachioed man shouted:
‘Are you
going to come?’
Everyone sat still. The blond boy pulled his hand away from the
hairy boy’s body.
‘Show some respect!’ the moustachioed man continued.
The boys kept quiet
but the bear bawled out: ‘What?’
The man with the moustache was relentless: ‘Aren't
you ashamed?’
Timidly, the grey haired punter muttered: ‘This is a gay sauna…’
The
reply was: ‘But you don’t have to do it in front of everyone! That’s what
cubicles are for.’
He kept addressing the younger men. ‘Show some decorum! How
can you possibly do this in front of everybody? ’
The dark haired boy
mumbled something in a French accent.
Mr. Moustache was outraged: ‘You’re not
even English!’
The bear was dismayed. He asked: ‘Are you gay?’
He replied:
‘Yes! But that doesn't mean I'm shameless. For fuck's sake! I have
self-respect. And respect for others’.
The bear stood up. ‘I give up,’ he said,
‘unbelievable’ and left.
Everyone disappeared, one by one. I was left on my own
again. I heard some shouting in the distance. When I got out, minutes later, the
moustached man was nowhere to be seen on the premises.
