The Sauna & The Chad
. . . Insert Foot
“Okay,” I agree and step in front of him to lead the way. He grabs my hand as I pass by him. A smile creeps up on my lips but I don’t want to make a big deal about it, so without comment or look or gesture; I just pull him across the room. I stop at the small bathroom and retrieve another towel before taking him into the sauna. When we get inside, he messes with the switches and controls then moves to the corner, removes his towel from around his waist, folds it in half and lays it on the wooden bench. He sits down and turns sideways, stretching his long legs out in front of him and leaning up against the back.
I take my robe off, fold my towel like he did and place it on the bench by his feet then sit down and lean back. He bends one leg out to the side and pulls the other one up so it’s bent at the knee and resting against the back. His legs are spread open and I’m trying not to look, but I’m still sporting an incredibly hard hard-on from the blowjob and it’s making it really difficult to not take a peek.
We see each other naked all the time and for the most part it’s no big deal. It’s just natural and comfortable. But there are other times, like right now, when the nudity is a major turn-on. “Come here,” he says in a voice that sends chills running down my spine.
I huff a little and smile then scoot down near him. He turns me around and leans me up against his chest. I bend my knees in front of me and his leg that was bent outward slides underneath my legs. He wraps his arms around me and my head falls back onto his shoulder. And that’s how we spend the next hour… some small talk about school, my classes and current projects; about his current prospects, this place included and his plan to try to woo some meatier clients; there’s some moments of silence and listening to each other breathe; some light banter about the porn in the cabinet and the need to call for better condoms before we watch them; then some heavier talk about our pseudo family and the current drama – Hunter, Ted, Mel, Michael and the new baby; some more silence. It’s nice. It’s us.
“Brian?” I ask breaking the intimate silence.
“Hmmm?” He’s drawing circles on my chest with his finger outlining my nipples, round and round.
“Do you think this is how straight people spend part of their honeymoon? Just sitting here together and relaxing and talking or do you think they spend the whole time having sex?” The finger circles stop.
He pushes me up. “We’ve been in here too long and I need to go over those brochures. This is a business trip after all.” And he’s out the door before I can even register what just happened. I have no idea why I asked that, it just came out.
Who cares what straight people do on their honeymoons? We’re not straight and we’re not married and this is not a real honeymoon. I guess I was just caught up in… something… I don’t know. What we have just seems to be so unique to me, so special, so wonderful. I can’t imagine that anybody else in the world has what we have.
I shake my head; grab my towel and head out, turning off all the switches as I go.
When I get upstairs, he’s got his jeans on already and he’s sitting at the dining room table leafing through the folder that they’d given him at the front desk. I stand there silent; I don’t know what to say. I think he knows because he stops turning the papers and lets out a sigh. He looks up at me then back down at the table. “You gonna call about those condoms?” he asks with a straight face, not looking at me.
“Yeah,” I answer with a smile knowing this comment was his way of telling me that he wasn’t making a big deal out of my question and that he probably overreacted. I would have to agree.
“While you’re at it, why don’t you ask them to come get you and take you to the car. There’s a tube of lube in the glove compartment.”
I walk over to him, snake my arms around his neck and drape them over his chest, rubbing my hands over his pecs. I kiss his cheek then rest my chin on his shoulder. “Don’t you ever think about anything else besides sex?” I ask him with a chuckle.
“Nope.” And he laughs too. “And neither do you, you nympho, so don’t deny it.” Of course, we both know that the last hour in the sauna already proved that’s not true of either one of us.
“I won’t deny it, especially not this weekend.” I say and he turns his head to look at me, questioning why. “’Cause we’re on our honeymoon.” I add to answer his inquisitive glance.
He groans in dramatic exasperation. I knew that’d get him. I laugh, lightly slap his face with a playful tap then move towards the phone to call the front desk. “You’re so easy sometimes, Brian.”
“And sometimes, you’re a twat,” he says pulling my towel from around my waist as I walk away.
“Yeah, yeah.” I turn around and hold my hands out. He tosses me back my towel with a smirk.
So I pull on some sweats and a t-shirt, slip on my shoes, not bothering with any socks and go out the door to wait for my ride. The golf cart pulls up; it’s Mr. Cute Guy again. Come to find out, his name’s Chad. Figures. He looks like a Chad. He reminds me of that guy that Brian used for the Poole Boy ads… only straight.
We make small talk on the way back to the main building. He asks me what I think of the place and I tell him that I love it. He tells me about some of the other themed suites…Jungle Adventures. Tarzan and Jane images enter my mind. Swinging on vines over swamps and things. Maybe mud baths.
… Decadent Dungeon, which I’d love to see. I turn to look at him with interest.
“Yep,” he says nodding his head. I smile in perfect understanding.
… Barbie’s Playhouse and I cock an eyebrow. Must be that horrid pink one that I saw earlier.
“Don’t ask,” he tells me with a laugh. Believe me, I have no intention to.
He says it’s all in the brochures so I know that as I’m being told about them, Brian is reading about them. Wonder if he’s thinking about coming back here sometime to check out the dungeon one with me. Might be fun. I squirm a little in my seat and rub my wrists. We played with handcuffs once. The cold metal against my skin and the feeling of helplessness was rather exciting. I know this dungeon thing would probably be more than a few sets of handcuffs, but still…
We pull up to the main building, Chad jumps out and goes over to the valet desk to retrieve our keys then jumps back in and drives me over to the ‘vette.
“Nice ride,” he says as we come to a stop.
“You think so?” I ask, wrinkling my nose. But I don’t elaborate as to why I’m not so impressed with it. I don’t tell him about the rule or that there’s just no comfortable way to fuck in it. And believe me, Brian and I have tried every way we can think of. One of us always ends up with the most painful leg cramp. It’s just not worth it.
“Yeah, it’s a classic,” he answers, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I guess so,” I say with a shrug. Cars aren’t really my thing… classic or otherwise. They’re just a means of transportation to me. A way to get from point A to point B. He hands me the keys and I get out. I unlock the passenger door and reach in to open the glove compartment. The lube is there as well as a couple of condoms. I grab them then realize I don’t have pockets in these sweats. Shit.
I look back at Chad. He seems to understand that we’re obviously gay and since this is a sex retreat, I’m sure he’s assuming that we’re having sex. And I’m sure he’s seen it all and has probably been well versed to not be judgmental, but still, I feel kind of weird getting back into the golf cart with lube and condoms so clearly in my hands. It’d be like taking out an ad… ‘Yes, we fuck in the ass.’ It’s one thing to know and another thing to know, you know?
I leave them on the seat and move to the trunk, hoping I’ll find something that I can use to conceal them. I luck out. Brian’s gym bag is in the trunk; I grab it and go back to the passenger door. I unzip it to put them inside and find more lube and more condoms.
I’m not quite sure how I’m feeling about that, but I do take pause, albeit just for a second. I mean, I know, but seeing this is like really knowing. For-sure knowing. I shrug it off. That has nothing to do with me… or us.
With my secret sex supplies tucked away in Brian’s gym bag with the rest of Brian’s sex supplies, I grab the bag, lock the door and jump back in the golf cart.
“Get everything?” Chad asks innocently.
“Um, yeah. Brian can’t work out without his gym stuff.” I lie. “He’s kind of anal about stuff like that. Has to have his favorite shirt, his most comfortable pair of shorts. It’s really pathetic.” Chad laughs and now I feel sick. Why the fuck did I just say all that? All to hide the fact that I needed to get some lube so my partner could fuck me into the mattress? …Do waterbeds even have a mattress? Whatever. I’m so pathetic.
We drive back in silence; I’m too scared to open my mouth. Who knows what will come out. It’s safer to just be quiet, I think. He stops, I get out. “Thanks,” I say with a weak smile. I’m just glad this little scavenger hunt is over.
“No problem,” he answers.
I’m halfway to the door when he calls out to me. “Oh, hey, I almost forgot.”
I turn around and he’s digging through the little compartment between the seats. I walk back out of curiosity.
“You asked for these.” And he holds out a plain black box. The condoms I’d asked the front desk to get for us.
Heat rushes over my face. Fuck. “Oh, right,” I tell him, trying to act like it’s no big deal. I take the box from him and now I’m feeling really stupid. I went to great lengths to conceal what I got out of the car, completely forgetting that I’d ordered a box like I was ordering a pizza or something. But he made no strange gesture, gave no disapproving look so that feeling like I just want to die eases up a bit.
“Are they the right kind?” he asks.
“Yeah, they are. Thanks again.”
“Okay, great. You guys have fun. If there’s anything else you need, just call,” he says nonchalantly. Like professionally. I can’t help but laugh as he drives away… I’d queened out for no reason at all. I’m so not telling Brian.
