Saturday, December 18, 2004

Story of a Skimpy Towel

He came after all the bigger towels were distributed, and had to walk around with a skimpy version that was only big enough to cover the essentials, which in Manatus’ definition, should not include the buttocks. A good thing though, coz they looked really firm and bubbly. An uncle managed to steal a pinch, he didn’t seem to mind.

While we were standing side by side against the wall in the steam room, I wanted to ask him what perfume was he wearing. Must be good stuff, coz it survived the heat and moisture. But then I guess it’s not a good place to start a conversation.

I couldn’t remember who started it, but soon we were holding hands, and then proceeded to some light kissing and hugging. At one point, I was just leaning against him while we were sitted. There were no hot passionate moments, no loud raunchy moans; just quiet, subtle emotions drown in a warm embrace (warmer then the steam in the room). Seemed like forever.

Managed to push away some intruding hands. Oh gosh, has the table turned?

We still didn’t talk. Not when it’s all over, or in the showers, or at the lockers. He was sitting at the counter, making a phonecall. We maintained eye contact as he walked (reluctantly?) towards the main door. The last glimpse of him, hands raised mid-air waving at me, light smile on his face (did you say ‘Thank you’?) before he disappeared into the night.

Will you ever find love in saunas?


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