It was embarrassing.
I felt awkward, they felt awkward but the three of us all seemed to share the uncertainty of what to do next. The embarrassment was not helped by the fact that we were all nearly naked.
I had been enjoying a rare moment of peace, a taste of rare relaxation. Sat in my swimsuit with sweat pooling under my thighs I happily sweltered in the gymnasium steam room. Then they entered, two young fit male specimens of the human race. Tanned, tattooed, gloriously sexy and fifteen years my junior.
The perfect companions for the steam room in the gym…
Suddenly the heat electrified in the room and I became all too concious of my too tight costume with its four breast effect. I didn’t need a mirror to know mascara was smeared across my cheeks and I hated to consider the state of my bikini line.
They walked in laughing and then fell silent when they realised they were not alone.
Panic set in, I wanted to leave but I didn’t want them to think it was because of them and also I knew my swimsuit had crept up my arse and was sitting wedgie style waiting for me to perform the un graceful gesture of yanking it out.
I wanted to leave but was worried my silhouette when I opened the door would be magnified by the steam and the young men would charge past me screaming “elephant in the spa, elephant in the spa.”
So I sat…
Those boys had stamina, the heat wrapped round us all creating a sticky embrace and still they silently sat it out.
My body got hotter, the wedgie became tighter and I felt as if I were being sliced in two. The steam choked me, stinging my eyes, forcing me to take short panting breathes.
I could bear it no more.
Carefully I lifted a cheek hoping to rectify the wedge before I exposed myself to the boys.
Then it happened.
It wasn’t a fart but it sounded fartish,
The wet tearing of skin from plastic seat coupled with a bubbling echo that reverberated around the room.
It sounded like a fart, a great big fart.
I died a little inside.
As I tried to leave the room they men tried to leave with me, presumably for fear of an accompanying fake fart smell.
They saw my mascara drenched face.
I am leaving the gym.