Date: Fri, 5 Oct 2007 08:54:28 +1000
From: AF
Subject: Sauna Chronicles - Part I

Visiting an anonymous big city, in a foreign land, I thought to myself,
this upcoming business trip might just be the perfect time to act out my
fantasy of visiting a gay sauna. Ever since I had seen a raunchy sauna
scene portrayed in a film, I knew I had to give it a go; I just needed to
find the right opportunity. So, my trip to London was going to be the
chance of a lifetime for this American 'straight' Boy to lose his 'sauna
cherry.'

The business that I had in the U.K. took me to Manchester, so there was
little chance I would run into a professional acquaintance while visiting a
gay sauna in London. The excitement of my little excursion to London had me
excited for weeks. It was hard to focus on the business at hand, but
somehow when the time came, I was able to act professionally, and seal the
deal which I had been brought in to close. The fact that I handled the
negotiations in just two days, when five days were allocated, may have had
just a little to do with what I had planned for my time in London.

So, three days ahead of schedule with unchangeable return tickets to San
Diego in hand, meant I could really enjoy myself in London, and I wasted no
time. Upon leaving Victoria Station I quickly checked into my nearby hotel,
and changed clothes, stopping for only a minute at the newsagency to pick
up some rag called something like 'Gay London Today.' I had NEVER purchased
anything like this, and was amazed that the newsagent seemed like it was no
big deal. In my imagination, I had expected a disgusted look and an
embarrassing scene where my 'fag mag' was passed back to me, just as a
crowd of young street thugs waited behind me. Instead the gentlemen at the
newsagency was very discreet (obviously in retrospect; he was selling an
overpriced magazine for ten pounds, why would he want to try to embarrass
or humiliate me?), placed the magazine in a carrier bag, and let me know
that he had some other titles that I could look at my leisure. He handed me
a bound folder which contained plastic sleeved covers of a variety of gay
mags. I thanked him for his offer, but said I though I had all that I
needed. I went back to the hotel, threw my bags on the bed, and immediately
started flipping pages until I came across several advertisements for local
saunas. Armed with my London 'A-to-Z,' I quickly identified one sauna,
which seemed to have it all. A pool, saunas, and rooms I had not even
though about. I wrote down the address, hid the magazine under my mattress
(does paranoid come to mind?), and raced to the nearest tube
station. 'Chariots - Shoreditch' was the name of the Sauna, and I had a
thirty minute subway trip to get there. I think my dick never went soft
during the entire trip.

Upon exiting the tube station, I raced the ten blocks to the sauna, nearly
missing the rather discreet entrance. Of course the dark sunglasses and the
cap didn't help on this dreary gray London afternoon. ;)

As at the newsagency, I was totally put at ease upon entering the club. I
probably looked like a neurotic wreck, and until the last second wasn't
even sure if I would gather the courage to pay the entrance fee. The guy
behind the counter asked if 'we' were together; only then did I notice the
handsome gray haired gentleman that I had nearly knocked over on my way in
the door. The gentleman lisped, "Oh 'Chaaaales,' I only WISH my dear boy, I
only wish!"

"Well let's put you two at adjoining lockers, and pretend you are together
since it is 'Two for One Thursday.' That will be ten pounds each then," he
looked back at each of us.

"Oh Charles, I owe you a big one for this," winked my 'two for'
partner. "Can I offer my lips in payment, my handsome young stud?"

'Yeah, yeah, right Barry, I may just hold you to your promise matey," the
attendant coyly flirted back. Turning to me as he took my ten pound note,
he said, "Listen mate, you've got locker number 301, towel and condoms are
inside, but there are plenty of condoms throughout the building. If you
need anything at all just come back to us; we're here to
serve. Refreshments available, we can bill them to your key, and you can
settle up before you leave, when your key is required to leave the
building. This old queen can show you where the locker is. Barry, I've put
you at the bottom just under our American guest here (how he figured I was
an American I hadn't a clue as I had not opened my mouth since I arrived);
please give him the lay of the land."

"Oh Charles, you just knooooow how I love the bottom. Thanks again,
sweetie," teased Barry. Turning to me, he giggled, "Young man, you know I'm
'Barry, the Bottom,' and anything you need you can come to me," as he
wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "So, do you have a name young man?"

"Umm, yeah, umm, uh, the name is Barry (duh, what an idiot!), I mean, ummm,
uhh, Steve" I stuttered nervously.

"OK, then sweetheart, 'Barry, I mean Steve,' it is. Here we are then.

I hadn't imagined what would be happen next. All of my thoughts about this
adventure only had me getting to the sauna. Now standing in front of a
locker with this sweet old queen, I hadn't a clue what happens next. I
stared stupidly at the locker, and froze.

Seeing my utter confusion, Barry instructed me, "OK sweetie, I see this is
new for you. The idea here is you take off your clothes now, and place them
in the locker. You can walk around naked if you please, displaying that
lovely package in all its glory . . . oh please dear Lord God above . . .,"
he giggled. "Or you can discreetly cover yourself with a towel. Your
choice. A few more tips from an old sauna queen. Obviously, as fresh meat,
you'll find some old queens like me pawing at you. That's just our way of
saying welcome to the club. If some man grabs your cock or your arse, and
you are not interested, you simply push his hand gently to the side. If he
persists, be a bit more forceful. If he still persists, tell him, "NO MEANS
NO, YOU SILLY COW!" He'll get the idea quickly, and if he doesn't some big
butch fellow will likely hear your cries of distress, and come rescue you."

After Barry's theatrical monologue, there were now about six guys standing
at varying distances from me, checking out the (obviously) new guy. One guy
was totally hot, and my dick got even harder than it had been since I left
my hotel. I 'discreetly' tried to turn towards the locker, with the door
open, but as I soon learned, when a gay guy wants to see your cock, he is
pretty fucking obvious. I laugh now when I recall that I stripped to my
briefs, and wrapped myself in a towel, before sliding my briefs down. Barry
loved my blundering moves, and giggled away, as he whispered in my ear,
"Seriously, 'Barry, I mean Steve,' I would absolutely love to suck that
fine young cock of yours for the next fortnight, but I think this old queen
is out of his league. The offer is open though."

"In your travels around this little piece of man flesh heaven, have some
fun. Let yourself go, and don't do anything which makes you uncomfortable
. . .  unless of course you like a flogging, and then I'm sure some bloody
fool will accommodate." He laughed himself silly at his own joke, whispered
again in my ear, "Now as my way of welcoming you, let me be the first bloke
to grab that lovely arse." And with one smooth movement, he wrapped one arm
around the small of my back, the other cupped and pinched my ass, and he
gave me a sweet non-sexual, but not-exactly-fatherly, kiss on the
lips. "Now get yourself some beautiful boy and fuck your brains out," he
laughed as he released me from his grasp. Pointing me towards a darkened
doorway, he said, "Now you go through those doors, and up those steps, and
your adventure begins."

My head was spinning as I stumbled out of Barry's arms and headed up the
stairs. Barry was right. I wouldn't say he was out of my league, but he was
definitely not the guy I had fantasized about when dreaming up this little
adventure. Where was I going to find Hugh Grant anyway, I laughed to
myself. And with that I headed through the doorway . . .

 . . . TO BE CONTINUED . . .