On My Knees by Tristram La Roche Read Free Book Online Page A

in jeans, men in towels, and men in nothing at all. Old men, young men, and men about my age.
    Locker 26 was at the far end of the room, and I wound my way through the throng, tripping over discarded towels and sucking in my stomach to get round locker doors that hung open. I felt terribly overdressed in my raincoat and all but ripped off my clothes, threw them in the locker, and wrapped the towel around my waist.
    Men were coming and going through an arched opening between the last banks of lockers. I fastened the key band around my wrist and went with the flow. The gloom concealed a row of showers, laid out along one wall that had been clad with sheet metal. In fact, the whole place had an industrial look, from the metal flooring to the bare brick walls and the exposed service pipes that ran like arteries overhead. Beyond the showers I could see a wood cabin, the door of which opened and banged shut with regularity. Past this structure I could make out a long passageway leading to some area that cast an insipid light. There was clearly plenty to explore.
    I nipped under a vacant showerhead and rubbed myself with the gel provided. It was green and smelled cheap. As I rinsed away the reluctant lather, I felt something on my right buttock. Without turning, I craned my neck to see what it was. A man of about sixty-five stood next me, his hand touching me. I edged away.
    “Sexy,” he said. He smiled at me and winked, beckoning me to follow him.
    I fought back the urge to vomit, finished showering, grabbed my towel, and went in the opposite direction. I found myself at the foot of a staircase and climbed. At the top, a room lay directly under the viaduct, surrounded by small cabins big enough for two or three people and illuminated by a single red bulb. In the middle, a few larger cubicles could take maybe eight or ten. Mats covered the floors, rather like the ones at the gym, and each compartment came equipped with a waste bin and a box of tissues.
    I joined the promenade around the perimeter. It reminded me of some sort of market, everyone eyeing everyone else, walking this way then that. It seemed that nothing was really happening. Then, as I rounded the corner at the far end, a group of guys gathered around one of the central cubicles. I drew up behind them and stood on tiptoe to see in. I couldn’t count the number taking part in the orgy, but there were seven or eight for sure. The red light, blocked by those standing, failed to reach the back of the space. White towels draped over shoulders hinted at frantic movement. A flash of an eye and an arm caught in a rare reflection betrayed a cluster of kneeling figures in the far corner. I could feel the pressure against my towel.
    The guys in front of me blocked the way, so eager to watch that they blended into one immovable mass. I pushed and elbowed my way forward, determined to break through. I was cursed at as I crushed someone’s toe, but it didn’t stop me. The beat of the music drove me on. My heart raced and my head reeled. One last push and my skin slipped between sweaty flesh, and I fell into the cabin. Immediately, a hand wrapped around my cock.

 
     

Chapter Eight
     
    I steadied myself against the wall and grabbed at the hand under my towel. I squeezed the wrist and pushed it away. Whoever it was, he meant business. One hand tried to pry my fingers loose while the other strained to recapture my wilting cock.
    “Get off,” I said, shoving him away.
    I heard grumbling but he got the message and crawled back into the tangle of bodies. I hadn’t expected to be molested. Maybe I’d just leave. I felt my feet slide on the mat. It was a seedy place.
    The cubicle was now packed. There was no way to move without pressing myself between bodies like a sheet through a wringer. As I edged my way towards the doorway, I found myself thrust against a tall, toned body. His hard cock stood in my way like a railway barrier, reaching halfway across my hip. I looked up.