Date: Fri, 21 Apr 2017 05:49:12 +0000
From: Starfish Prime <operation_dominic@outlook.com>
Subject: A Fun Night Out (Gay - Encounters)

I wasn't really lying: I had been invited to a colleague's birthday party.
It's just that I had another plan for my night out. A plan that I'd only
formed when I realised my wife would be having a night out too. Hers was a
work related function, some sort of thank you dinner or party put on by a
supplier. She wasn't going to go initially ("I'll hardly know anyone") but
when the delightful coincidence of my own party invitation arose I
encouraged her to go ("you'll have fun"). Because what I wanted was a night
to myself to do something I hadn't been able to do for some time, and here
was the perfect opportunity...

When I got back home from taking the children to my parents' house my wife
- having just showered - was lying naked on our bed, her long legs lewdly
splayed.

"Fancy a quickie?" she asked casually, in the way someone might ask another
if they wanted a drink.

"Oh, right. Um, well that would've been nice," I stuttered, "but I've
really got to jump in the shower and get myself ready, I'm already running
late. I didn't mean to take so long dropping the kids off."

"Well, we haven't had sex in ages. I thought you might like it, I'd quite
like one."

"Yes, I know we haven't done it for a while but you always ask at the most
awkward times. It's always such a rush. Why don't we do it when we both get
home tonight..."

"I'll probably be asleep by then," she huffed up off the bed, obviously
frustrated.

"... or we've got all morning tomorrow."

She came into the bathroom - wearing a little black dress she hadn't worn
for quite some time - as I was towelling off, to give me an almost chaste
peck on the cheek.

"You'll be cold in that," I joked.

"I'm wearing a coat over the top, silly. Well, bye then. Have a nice
night."

"Yeah, you too."

When I heard the door shut downstairs I knew it was really going to happen.
I wasn't going to talk myself out of it: I was going to go to the sauna.
How long was it now since my last visit? At least a year or more maybe? I
ate a light dinner in the kitchen, careful not to leave any traces of my
meal so as not to arouse any suspicions ("I thought you were eating out")
before bouncing back up the stairs to brush my teeth.

I parked down a residential side street, checking my mirrors unnecessarily
for anyone walking past, before getting out and heading up to the high
street. I turned left and walked past the darkened shopfronts. As I turned
sharply towards the anonymous-looking doorway a tram rumbled past shielding
me from the view of anybody on the other side of the street, not that there
were many people about.

My heart rate quickening I pushed open the stiff door with its electric
chime and trudged up the stairs. A youngish man I hadn't seen there before
appeared at the window grill. Not making complete eye contact with him I
handed over a $20 note and was slid back in return a small key on a
wristband. He buzzed me in and I headed over to my assigned locker in the
pokey changing area. It was warm and stuffy, so I was glad to be free of my
clothes. I wrapped the towel around my waste and went for a wander. One of
the two monitors opposite the locker area seemed to be out of action
("funny," I smiled to myself, "I could swear that was on the blink the last
time I was here."). An overweight man was hunched in front of the other
one, intently studying a soundless porn clip.

The place wasn't completely deserted but there didn't seem to be a lot
going on. ("Maybe I should've fucked my wife instead? As boring as it
would've been at least I would've got my rocks off instead of wasting my
time here," I thought. "Now, now," I chided myself, "don't think like
that. You've only just got here. Who knows what might happen...")

I poked my head into the video room. On the big screen some young tanned
studs were sucking and fucking. I ought to have been aroused by them but it
was hard to reconcile their energetic display with the general air of
torpor in the room. A handful of reclining limp-cocked elderly men toyed
with themselves under their towels. Not promising.

As I walked down the dim damp-floored corridor to the hot tub area I had
the sense of being watched from hidden figures in some of the darkened
cubicles. I gulped down a mouthful of chilled water from the drinking
fountain, hung my towel and key on a hook and pressed the big button to
start up the spa before clambering into the warm churning water.

I rested my head back against the side, lifting my face just high enough to
keep it out of the frothing bubbles. The jets needled my muscles and I
closed my eyes. I wondered what my wife was up to right now. Drinking, most
likely. The fact that she'd not taken her car and was intending to taxi it
home suggested that she was going to take full advantage of the corporate
largesse. She was one of those people who - for the vast majority of the
time - was responsible, reliable, professional, caring and all of those
things, but just once in a while when there was no work the next day, no
children to worry about, no car to drive home, would just let themselves
go.

A loop of best fucks played in my mind: my first, the older man I met in a
park when I was eighteen and invited home because my parents were away. I
couldn't bring myself to do it in my boyhood bedroom so I showed him
through to the neutral spare room. He fucked me hard into the low
well-upholstered armless chair as I moaned and oohed and aahed, and urged
him on like a girl in a porno. And then no sooner had I seen him off at the
front door my then-twenty year old sister came home unexpectedly early. The
thrill of almost being caught by her was inexplicably arousing: what better
way to shock a flirty exhibitionist nymphomaniac.

Then there was that impromptu orgy in some park toilets I stumbled into
once. The way one of the men grabbed at the bulge in my Lycra shorts - I'd
been out cycling - and yanking them down to gobble greedily on my cock. And
then to everyone's amazement turned and presented his bum to me - bottom
though I mostly was - before skewering himself on my fat cock, lubricated
only by his own saliva. Condom-less fucking? What was I doing? That put a
dent in my proclivities for a while: I was sure I'd caught something. (I
hadn't, as it turned out.)

And then some years later a couple of bareback semi-regular tops - one with
a cockring penchant - who overlapped into the beginning of my straight
life. I smiled to myself, remembering the rush of amyl, the pleasure of
being fucked to orgasm. It stopped for a while but then I couldn't help
myself. The rare pleasure of a trip to the nude beach: sucking off a
complete stranger while another stranger fucked me. And then the discovery
of this place, yes, there'd been some quiet times and disappointing let
downs but they were outweighed by the hot ones, like the time I was
mercilessly fucked in a sling, my heels digging into the man's buttocks as
he pounded me back and forth...

The bubbles stopped, had I been ten minutes already? I was about to hop out
and press the button again when a distinguished-looking man in late middle
age stopped me: "it's alright, I'll get it. You staying in?" His voice
sounded like he could've been a presenter on the ABC. He stepped up and
over into the spa which had noisily come to life again.

The door to the steam room on our right opened and an odd-looking man shot
us a look before disappearing into the sauna room on our left. "I've been
trying to avoid him," my new friend tried to whisper over the sound of the
bubbling water.

"Hmm, funny looking bloke," I agreed. "You get all types in here."

"You come here much?"

"No, not really. I haven't been here for at least a year, I hardly get the
chance. Anyway, tonight's my first opportunity in ages: my wife's out and
the children are having a sleepover."

"Ah, one of those married types, hey?" he smiled. "A lot of those in
here. I'm not judging, by the way."

"Mmm, this is nice," I took hold of his cock under the water. He was hard
now, not quite as big as me but still satisfyingly long and thick. Then, to
leave him with no doubt as to what I was after, I lifted myself off the
underwater bench and straddled his thighs, rubbing the head of his cock
against my hole. "Do you like to fuck?"

"Yes. Let's find a room."

We hopped out, grabbing our towels and keys - our cocks bobbing jauntily -
and rinsed the heavily-chlorinated water off in the showers opposite the
hot tub. Trudging up the darkened corridor with still partially-wet feet -
no wonder it was always damp there - we looked for a spare cubicle.

He slid the door open on one near the video room. "This one do?"

"Ooh, mirrors. I like it!"

He clipped the door behind us ("don't want that weird chap interrupting
us"). Because of the mirrors the room - bathed in a pinkish-orange light -
seemed much larger than it really was.

"How do you want to do this?"

"You lie down," I suggested.

I straddled his face and bent down to take his cock in my mouth. He tasted
faintly of pool water - but I didn't care, this was my first cock in over a
year and I was going to milk it for all it was worth. Besides, the rich,
salty but slightly sweet taste of pre-cum soon overpowered any chlorine
residue. He needed no hint to start furiously tonguing at my hole. I took
my mouth temporarily off his cock, "oh my God, that feels great!" I moaned.

I wanted this to go on for hours but I knew I wouldn't last long. I reached
forward towards the lubricant dispenser and pumped a glob in my hand and
worked it into onto cock - which was already quite slick from my saliva.
And then pulling myself off his face, I fingered another squib into my
already sloppy and loosening hole. I squatted forward over his cock -
enjoying the view of myself in the mirror - then slowly impaled myself on
it.

"Oh fuck," I sighed. He grabbed my hips and started to slowly guide me up
and down. Unfortunately - given my extreme pent-up horniness and the
excellence of his previous rimming - I couldn't last long. I picked up the
pace to slam down on him a few more times before my untouched cock exploded
violently. "Fuck, oh fuck!" I shot ropes of cum all over the black vinyl
floor mat and even onto the mirror. My bum spasmed around his cock until I
couldn't take it anymore and had to hop off.

"Oh man, sorry. I couldn't hold back. Sorry."

"No, it's alright. That was pretty crazy."

"But you haven't come yet." (At the same time - as I came back down to
earth from my orgasmic high - I was relieved that he hadn't shot his load
in my arse. "I really should've put a condom on that cock," I thought to
myself.) "Do you want me to blow you?"

I'd never done arse-to-mouth but figured that my bum had been clean and
empty and I couldn't see or smell anything yucky on his cock. In fact the
overpowering taste was of the synthetically-fruity lubricant.

"Oh yeah," he sighed as he held my head while I bobbed up and down on his
cock. It wasn't long before his balls tightened and his cock stiffened even
further as he pulsed inside my mouth. I swallowed some of it and let the
rest drip sluttishly down my chin.

"Mmm, yummy! Haven't had that in ages."

We both sat back against the cold, now fogged up mirrors to regather our
breath.

"Want to grab a beer?"

We went back to the showers and then towelled off walking back past "our"
cubicle to each get some cash from our respective lockers, I also took the
opportunity to check my phone - no messages thankfully.

There were a few others in the bar area sitting around in towels. I grabbed
the cold brown stubbie and took a swig. On the television a football match
was playing. Obviously in another city: it wasn't pouring with rain like
that here. It wasn't much of a spectacle but it was mesmerising all the
same - the players struggling to pick up the slippery ball, and even when
one managed to do so he was soon tackled and then the umpire would ball it
up and the whole sopping wet rolling maul would start again.

"So are you married, divorced, partnered, whatever?" I asked my new friend,
turning temporarily away from the big screen on the wall.

"I have a partner but he lets me play around sometimes. As long as I'm
careful..."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I really should've got you to wear a condom. I
just got so caught up in the excitement."

"I suppose so, but I know I'm clean. And I guessed, with you being married
and not doing this sort of thing much you would be too. But you're right,
one shouldn't make assumptions."

I took another swig of beer and glanced back at the television. A player
had soccered the ball clear of the congested pack to no one in particular.
It skidded along the sodden grass to a teammate who just fortuitously
happened to be open. He picked it up cleanly and ran with it, bending down
to touch it to the turf at the required regular intervals rather than risk
bouncing it in the wet. On he ran, an opponent closing in chase. He reached
the fifty metre arc and - about to be run down in a tackle - kicked the
ball towards the goals. It grubbed along the ground in the goal square
before bouncing and bobbling though for an unlikely goal. Then the
television went to a quick ad break. A man behind us cheered and banged the
table, obviously his team.

"How often does that happen: you know, one team's doing all the attacking
but they just can't seem to break through and then all of sudden the ball
spills clear and before you know it it's down the other end and the other
team scores. I'm sure there's a metaphor for life in there somewhere," I
observed.

"I don't really follow football," he replied, "but I can see your point.
Anyway, changing the subject, I've always wondered why men like you come
here."

"What do you mean like me?"

"Married. To a woman, I mean."

"Well, I can't speak for others but for me it's just about the sex. I mean
I couldn't imagine being in a romantic relationship with a guy."

"But what about a sexual relationship with a woman? Do you have sex with
your wife often? I bet she loves your cock. And you have a really nice body
too, I bet she likes that too."

"Hmm, not that often these days. I find it a bit boring to be honest. But
yes," I smirked boastfully, "she does appreciate my cock... when I allow
her to have it, that is. She wanted me to fuck her tonight before she went
out, actually. But I didn't want to take the edge of my horniness before I
came here. Maybe I should've? I would've lasted longer with you!" I
laughed, before asking, "have you ever had sex with a woman?"

"No, the thought of it has always struck me as unappealing. I mean I like
women, don't get me wrong. I enjoy their company and, yes, I can find some
women incredibly attractive in a non-sexual way but no, the idea of
actually having sex with one, no that's a bit yucky."

"Are you going to hang around here tonight much longer?"

"Maybe, I'll need a while to recharge the batteries if that's what you're
asking. I don't mind if you want to go and find another guy, I won't be at
all offended. Like you said, if you don't the get chance to come here often
you may as well get your fill of cock while you're here."

"I might just have to go and do exactly that! I'm starting to get horny
again. Maybe it's looking at all those footy players' bodies..."

"Is that where you got the inspiration for your hairless look? I mean they
all look as though they wax or shave everything off these days."

"Hey, I thought you didn't follow football!" I joked as we both stood up,
"but yeah, I've noticed that too. No, for me it's more to do with being in
the pool or on my bike a lot. My wife likes the way it sort of defines my
muscles more but then she complains that she doesn't like the feel of it, a
man should be more hairy or something, I don't know - women - you can't
please them!"

"Anyway, have a good night. If I see you later, I'll see you later." And
with that he gave me a friendly pat on my bottom and sauntered off.

He was right, I did want to get my fill. My post-orgasmic come down was
wearing off... I wanted - no, needed - more cock. I began to think that I
should have asked him whereabouts he lived, or got his phone number or
email address at least.

I headed back towards the spa but this time I went into the steam room,
grabbing a gulp of cold water from the fountain to wash the taste of beer
out of my mouth. I swung open the heavy door and adjusted my eyes: there
was barely any light. I could just make out a few towelled figures sat on
the benches. It was almost oppressively hot and steamy, I wasn't going to
stay long. I sat on the wet bench and leant back against the damp wall. I
toyed with my partially-engorged cock under my towel getting it hard
again. When I was almost painful erect I let my towel fall onto the bench
and stood naked in the middle of the room. The reader will by now have
established that I am - for the most part - a bottom but my cock always
gets me attention. Figures in the murky recesses of the room shifted an
adjusted their crotches. Two men approached me, flanking me one groped my
arse ("mmm, nice" he murmured) the other grabbed my cock then, crouching
down, took me in his mouth. I shuddered slightly, my cock almost
over-sensitised. I turned my head towards the man caressing my bum, "do you
guys want to get a room?"

They were a couple of sorts, in an "open relationship", both in their late
twenties or early thirties, I guessed. One was the designated top, the
other the bottom but could be "versatile". ("Good," I thought to myself,
"this might work.").

I found myself lying face down on another black vinyl mat (I didn't want to
think what might be on it) my legs closed. The top was straddling my bum,
his condom-sheathed erection probing at my hole. I had my face in the lap
of the bottom sitting cross-legged at my head end. A dark glass bottle of
poppers appeared from somewhere. I took a deep sniff - oh man - in the rush
I sucked furiously on his cock, holding him around his waist while his
friend ground his cock into my arse. He must've come at some point
previously because when he finally spurted in my mouth there wasn't a lot
of it, but it was cum all the same and I was grateful for the taste - and
even the slimy feel - of it in my mouth. He contorted himself to sit back
against the wall to take in the fuck his partner was giving me.

I took another snort from the the little bottle. "Oh that's so good, keep
fucking me," I moaned.

"Do you want to move up onto your elbows and knees? I'll be able to fuck
you better."

"I like it like this, but sure, yeah why not."

His friend took another hit from the bottle and played with his softened
cock, showing no signs of jealousy he looked as though he was enjoying the
show.

The top was really pounding into me now that we were in the classic
doggy-style position. The amyl rush had really got to me: "oh yeah... fuck
me... harder!" I implored him. His pelvis slapped against my buttocks as
the rhythm of the fuck took hold. I didn't care if I came or not from it, I
just wanted to be fucked hard.

"Oh man... fuck!" he groaned as he gave one final thrust and I felt the tip
of the condom fill up inside me. "Oh boy, fucking hell" he sighed, "man
that was intense!" He eased himself out of me and pulled off the condom,
throwing it into the little open bin next to the lubricant dispenser and
door latch. We were soaked in sweat.

"Did you come?" his friend asked me.

"No, almost though. Why?" I replied, trying to catch my breath back.

"I want you to fuck me with that big cock of yours."

"I dunno mate, I'm more of a bottom really. And I don't think I'll last
long. We can try, I guess."

I reached out towards the tray of wrapped condoms but he brushed my hand
away, "no, I want to feel you raw."

I squirted some lube on my cock and lined up with his reddish pink hole,
which he had already greased up. He squatted back on to me, forcing me
inside him - and I thought I was a greedy bottom!

"Fuck you're tight!" I exclaimed. "I haven't fucked a guy in years. So much
better than my wife's cunt." (I almost spat the word "cunt" out.)

"Oh yeah," he moaned. "I love it when straight guys compare me with their
wife or girlfriend."

I was trying to take it as gently as possible as I knew - unlike a porn
star - I wouldn't be able to fuck for more than a minute or so. "Mate, I'm
telling you, this is not going to last long. I'm going to blow any minute."

"He won't mind. He just wants your big fat straight cock in him, it's like
a trophy for him," his friend joked.

"Oh shut up," he laughed back, "don't listen to him and just fuck me hard."

"Okay, as you wish..." I picked up both the pace and intensity, and - as I
predicted - it wasn't long before I found myself shooting a load in his
arse. "Fuck, oh fuck... oh yeah!" I grunted. I had a moment of hesitation
before I pulled out, wondering if his standards of anal hygiene were as
high as mine, but I needn't have worried: though my cock was slicked with
cum and lubricant there was no shit on it thankfully.

"Thanks for that."

"Are you sure? You didn't come," I queried.

"Nah, you already blew me. I don't think I was going to come again in such
a short space of time."

"And you're cool about me not wearing a condom? I mean it's not something I
should be making a habit of. You are clean, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Nah, it's all good. I hardly ever bareback with other
guys at all. You just looked like the straight-laced married type. I
figured you'd be fine."

We talked for a bit. I was curious about the openness of their
relationship, saying that I wished that straight couples could be more like
that. They asked me about my sex life with my wife, expressing some disgust
when I described in detail the intricacies of female genitalia. ("Yuck! You
actually go down there with your mouth?!")

After showering yet again, I headed back to my locker to check my phone -
still no messages. I wondered whether or not to call it a night: I had come
twice, surely there was nothing more left in the tank?

I couldn't find my ABC presenter - as I decided to refer to him - from
earlier in the evening so I plonked myself down on one of the sofas and
watched some young hunks fuck on the big screen. A man in late middle age
sidled up beside me. Slightly overweight but not off-puttingly so, and the
bulge under his towel was promising...

I ended up on my back in one of the smallest cubicles, squashed under his
weight like a folded-up deck chair, my ankles over his shoulders as he
shagged me sweatily. He leaned in for a kiss - not something I normally did
with men - but with my head a blur of amyl again, there was something
intensely sexy about being roughly smooched by a stubbly face whilst being
deeply fucked.

"Oh yeah, go faster! Fuck me... harder! I'm almost there...!" I oohed and
aahed for him, as much for his benefit as for my play-acting own. I was
actually surprised when he did indeed fuck me to an orgasm - a small
dribbly one but an orgasm nonetheless, my third for the evening. And, like
the first one, requiring no direct stimulation of my own cock. That was the
trigger for him, blasting into the tip of the condom inside me, as he
almost collapsed on top of me.

Thankfully my wife still wasn't home when I got back to the house. I drank
a glass of water, brushed my teeth and slumped naked into bed. An hour or
two later I stirred when I heard a car door being slammed downstairs. Then
I heard the sound of keys fumbling at the lock, the door opening and then
banged shut, then heels being kicked off, a heavy coat discarded, and a bag
being flung on the side table. Then footsteps clumsily navigating the
stairs.

I pretended to be asleep when she entered the bedroom. Out of the corner of
my eye I could see her fiddling with her dress which soon ended up on the
floor, which was soon joined by her bra. But where were her knickers? She
collapsed face down on the bed beside me, naked save for the little gold
earrings she hadn't bothered to remove. I could smell alcohol.

After the exertions of my evening out I soon fell back to sleep. In the
morning as the light edged around the curtains I propped myself up on my
shoulder and studied the sleeping naked form of my wife. She was still
lying face down, her head turned to the side, her legs slightly splayed. I
toyed with the idea of retrieving the secret tube of KY from my bedside
table and then sitting on her, my legs bent either side of hers, and
fucking her arse. But before I did so I sniffed around, I could smell her
cunt. She had that fishy smell of having been fucked - without a condom -
the night before. The smell that's only produced when a man's cum mixes a
woman's secretions and then matures in her cunt for a few hours. "Oh my
God!" I thought to myself, "she's been fucked!"

I quietly leapt out of bed and tip-toed downstairs. There were her
kicked-off heels, her coat on the floor having missed the hook, and her
little black bag on the table. I looked inside: her rings (I wondered when
she had taken them off) and sure enough there were her knickers, scrunched
up and damp. I put them to my nose: cunt juice and cum. "Oh my, she really
did it, she cheated on me!" I thought to myself. Of course it would've been
extremely hypocritical of me to be angry, but I was a little shocked. I
tried to piece together the likely scenario. It wouldn't have been a
colleague or someone she knew - she was much too proper for that - it must
have been a man she'd only just met that night. She'd had a little too much
to drink, got a bit flirty, allowed herself to be chatted up by a -
presumably handsome - stranger. Perhaps she's quietly removed her rings by
this stage. She must've led him off somewhere quiet, dark and secluded. She
would've had his cock out of his trousers before he knew what was
happening. She would have turned to face away from him, hoiked up her
dress, pulled off her knickers, and clumsily guided his cock inside
her. Then when he'd come she would've grabbed at anything at hand - her
knickers obviously - to stem the flow of cum dripping out of her cunt. And
then later she would've come home in the taxi knickerless - I wondered if
she'd remembered to keep her legs closed together!

I put everything back how it was. So many questions: What did he look like?
And - more importantly - what was his cock like? Did she come too? I was
dying to ask her but I couldn't. I had a vision come into my head of her
and me going to a mixed night at the sauna. We go off on our own separate
ways. At one stage I walk past a room where a woman is riding a man,
another man kneels behind her and sticks his cock up her bum, and a third
man stands in front of her face and feeds her his cock.. Then I realise
that the woman is my wife. But I don't care because I am accompanied by two
big-cocked hunks and we're about to go off and have our own fun... then
another scene pops up, my wife and I are at some sort of health retreat,
being attended to on massage tables by two muscly well-endowed masseurs
each... and yet another scene, she's at work, she has a gap between
patients, she calls in her male receptionist (I don't even know if has a
male receptionist), he looks at her quizzically as she shuts the door
behind him, she puts her finger to her lips and then bends over the table
for him to fuck her, the phone rings mid-fuck, "don't answer it, don't you
dare answer it" she scolds him as she closes in, "yeah, come on that cock!"
he tells her...

I want to tell her about my night, how much cock I had. How I crave cock,
and that I really don't mind if she wants some extra-marital cock too. As
long as it's our little secret, no one has to know...

I went into the kitchen, my cock hard with the memories of the night before
and the discovery of what my wife got up to on her night out. I boiled the
kettle and made a pot of tea. The noise of the kettle must've woken her up
and I heard her shuffle down the stairs. Her tall naked frame appeared at
the kitchen doorway, this wasn't unusual: she often walked around without
clothes on when it was just the two of us. Her hair, though messily
slept-on, still had that styled look to it. I noticed that her little pink
nipples seemed erect. Then again, even with the heating on it wasn't
exactly warm.

"Big night?" I asked as I handed her her cup of tea.

"Er, yes. I think I drank a bit too much though," she replied sheepishly.
"How was yours?"

"Good, yeah really good actually." I smiled inwardly. "I couldn't drink too
much myself as I was driving."

Her eyes were drawn to my cock which was still quite engorged. In fact,
having an image of her being fucked by another man float once more into my
mind, plus thinking back over my adventures of the previous evening, my
cock rapidly re-inflated.

"Nice to know my body still has that effect on you," she giggled, before
adding more sultrily, "hey, want to fuck me on the table with that massive
thing of yours?"

"Hmm, maybe. I don't know. It's fun to just tease you with it sometimes..."
And with that I walked past her and out of the kitchen.


Postscript

A few weeks later my wife was fretting: her period was almost a week late.
"But how can you be pregnant? I've had the snip, and besides, we've hardly
had sex in the last month."

"Well, the tubes can reattach you know, it's very rare but it can happen.
Oh God, what if I am pregnant? I don't think I could go through all that
again."

I was genuinely concerned that she might indeed be pregnant but I knew it
wouldn't be my child. I had a smug sense of satisfaction that she would
have to deal with the repercussions of her little knee trembler at the work
do several weeks before hand.

As it turned out her period did come on a couple of days later. Her relief
was palpable. And when I went for my yearly check up and round of blood
tests I was completely free of any infection. But that, dear reader, was
one of my last visits to the sauna. I simply haven't had the chance to go
there recently, nor the nude beach. But when I next get the chance you can
be sure I'll write about it!