In this month of November 1981, hope was in power. This did not prevent the autumn showers from covering the streets of Paris with a rainy gray, not very conducive to lyrical flights.When I left Rennes station, I left behind my back the modernist priape, for the time, and I took rue Saint-Sulpice. On the mezzanine of a smoky bougnat, I discovered a hammam-sauna, as there were so many at the time and which have since disappeared. My curiosity was piqued and the idea of ​​finding myself naked in an overheated atmosphere made me leave the frost in the street, without regret. It was a first for me and I was far from imagining the atmosphere that reigned in these places. At the banal entrance of a second-class hotel, I was handed bath accessories and a locker room key. My ingenuity must have been read in the grim smile I saw on the face of the bath boy. I asked for the route. We were only supposed to receive regulars. And for now, they weren't there. I undressed and covered myself in the threadbare bathrobe I had been given. I then entered what must have been the sauna. Dark, only the exterior light came from the clogged windows that could give onto the interior courtyard, my eyes had difficulty in perceiving the state of the premises. The moist heat added to the feeling of disorientation. Tired by my long walks in the streets of the capital, I stretched out on a bench waiting for the expected sweating. I got used to the darkness and discovered that I was not alone: ​​several men were slumped on the benches around me. I closed my eyes and focused on relaxing my muscles. When I reopened them, some of my neighbors had risen, in their sixties, eighties, flabby flesh, bald heads, bellies, hairy, pale, I must have made them the effect of a beauty queen with my muscular ...

... Log in to read the end of this erotic story | 100% free registration