Sauna on a Friday Night

So there we were, three grown men in a hot room, sitting, sweating, breathing deeply, and saying nothing to one another, on a Friday night. I had entered first and took my place, followed by a dark-brown skinned man with a cross hanging from his neck, and finally the third, white skinned and naked, cupping his cock and balls.

The beads of sweat that had been forming all over my body started dripping as soon as the naked man started breathing heavily, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He then started bending his body, testing his joints. I could hear splashes of water, which I couldn’t help but imagine were coming from him squeezing his cock and balls.

I had to lean forward, the intensity of the heat was becoming too much for me to bear. The smell of cedar was sticking to the insides of my nostrils.

As an exchange student in Finland, I was introduced to saunas. There, it was expected that you’d were naked in the coed saunas. At 18, it was something of a treat. That was my first real introduction to multiculturalism.

I distinctly remember one exchange student, Ryan, a fellow Canadian, getting uncomfortably excited about using the sauna during one of our exchange student retreats. There was a South African girl, called Storm, that was rather vocal about her discontent during dinner.  I took Ryan aside to explain to him that he was putting off the female members of our cohort. I had more game, and a flatter chest and stomach, then, but Ryan was ruining it for us guys.

Tonight, after about 20 minutes, the superintendent, whose wife is pregnant again after giving birth two months ago, came up to ask us to leave because he wanted to lock up for the night. He said we could take our time because he still had to check the women’s sauna.


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