Cock and ball(s)



The spa director, whom I'm increasingly picturing as a former primary-school teacher of mine, is hovering. Which is miIdly irritating as I’m eager to get in the sauna. To accelerate past the awkward silence preventing my entering, I decide to make conversation. “How long would you recommend I stay in for?” I enquire. I already know the answer. I’d popped my spa cherry a long, long time ago, don't you know. Way back in my teens. “As long as you feel comfortable”, she replies, peering at me over the top of her glasses.
Before launching into a spiel about how I should shower away all the oil on my body and towel myself skeleton-dry. “It’s also better if you go in nude,” she adds. “Naked?” I ask. “More authentic”, she insists. “I’ll get you some water”, she adds walking away whilst pointing me in the direction of the shower.
I do as I’m told. Making sure I cover myself sufficiently as I find her waiting for me. Otherwise any unwitting onlookers might come to the conclusion that they’ve stumbled onto a cfnm porn shoot.
“I’ll ensure you have absolute privacy”, the director says walking away once more. “The door will remain closed at all times”, she assures me. Off comes the towel, and in I go. Positioning myself on my favourite top-rung position I feel a bit uncomfortable. And it’s not only my burnished buttocks that are the source of my displeasure but the thought that the director’s promise might slip her mind.
Yet the towel remains off for my half-hour stay in which I also use the Jacuzzi and steam room. “She looks Scandinavian”, I reason to myself. “She should know about authentic saunas.”
Prior to leaving, I return to a state of fully-clothed. Red-faced for more reasons than one, I rush a thank you to the spa director. “Great tip about being naked: very liberating”, I blurt out.
Before exiting past a gym of exclusively female hotel guests who appear to break into laughter as I walk past. I sheepishly continue without looking up, but in the, what feels like nightly, nightmares that have followed I do gaze upwards. To see my stripped torso the star of the security-camera show appearing on the monitor above the heads of the now guffawing keep-fit enthusiasts.



M Hirtes

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