Soaked To the Skin Pt. 01

"Err, I, yes that would be nice."

It was awful. Even with the embarrassment her eyes kept being drawn to it - to his cock. It was not as if it was erect or anything like it. What could - or should - she have done had it been? Grabbed it and tried to make it come before he did anything to her? But there was not the slightest indication of arousal. It just hung down and swung - and that was the problem - it did not keep still. As the man moved about filling the kettle, washing out the mugs and filling the teapot it swung with his movements; and not just the penis - evidently he had got warm in the hut and his scrotum had slackened so his balls, and she could not miss their egg shapes, swung with his penis in their wrinkled, rather hairy sack. Her eyes kept catching the movement and looking at it.

The tea was made.

"I think, whilst it is brewing I shall do the same as you and nip around the back. Back in a jiffy."

Briefly the door was open letting in a cold draught and then it shut leaving Hannah alone for a moment or two. She breathed out slowly. What a predicament. Stuck with wet clothes, naked in a workman's hut, naked with a gentleman, waiting for a train which would not get her to the interview on time. She felt her clothes and re-arranged them. She had hoped her panties would be dry - they were not. It would have been so good to have been able at least to put them on. She turned them over on the radiator and managed to knock the man's green striped boxers onto the floor. Why had he chosen of all places to put them next to her panties? Bending she reached for them. The cotton was still very wet.

Just as her hand closed on the cotton the door behind her opened. "Noooo!" she thought as she jerked her body upright, but knowing it was too late, and whirled around. At least it was not the workmen returning but even so the man would have seen, would have been presented with the sight, as he opened the door, not simply of her naked behind but, bent over as she was, the sight of her exposed sex and probably even her bottom hole - all illuminated by the daylight coming in behind him from the doorway. "Fuck," she thought, "he's seen everything now."

Certainly he looked surprised and then she realised she had his boxer shorts in one hand.

"I knocked them off... by mistake... I'll put them back." It did not come out well. But at least she had not, in her confusion, asked him whether he had had 'a good leak.'

"It's still raining hard and freezing. Wet again! But isn't it so cosy in here. Warm as toast."

Certainly the man was covered in rain drops and his scrotum had drawn up. She was cross with herself for noticing the detail.

"I should have taken my umbrella."

The image was amusing and she laughed. His eyebrow rose.

"You standing there in the rain with nothing on, an umbrella in one hand and ..." She realised what she had been about to say.

"Not your everyday sight, I agree, but an umbrella would have been very practical! Do take it if you need to go out again."

Such a strange casual conversation about micturition and umbrellas between two naked people of the opposite sex.

He busied himself pouring the tea and Hannah watched the fresh rain drops running down his back and between his bottom cheeks - that would be annoying. If only she had a towel but what was she thinking of - what would he think if she was suddenly drying his back and bottom?

It was good to be sitting down again, the two of them separately, with mugs of tea. Somehow it seemed less sexual, more ordinary like that; the safety of a mug of tea in their laps but best not spilt!

There was a strong gust of wind thrusting the rain hard against the concrete walls of the hut and all of a sudden the door to the hut banged open. Hannah almost had a heart attack as she expected a troop of day-glo orange clad workmen to come trooping in. But it was only the wind. The man got up and shut the door; shutting out the rain, the cold wind and the prospect of company.

Her breasts were rising and falling as her heart raced and she breathed again. "Oh, I thought... for an awful moment I thought the workmen had come back and would see me like this."

"Would that matter? Perhaps they are also enthusiasts of the Freikörperkultur like us." He was smiling. He did not really mean it. "Then we would all be sitting around drinking tea and eating chocolate digestives as warm as toast in the all together."

"I wouldn't feel at all comfortable."

"You and six or seven naked men? Of course in Germany or Austria the naked sauna is not uncommon. Men and women, strangers to each other, sitting naked. It seems odd to us English people but not to them."

"I'd be worried they would want to do... things."

Immediately she had said that she regretted it. Why did she keep saying the wrong things? It was she who had first made the allusion to sex.

"No, that doesn't happen. The automatic association of nudity and sex is very Anglo-Saxon. It is all so very innocent... like us."

"Well, yes."

"Just because we two happen to be sitting naked in this hut does not mean we automatically develop sexual feelings. We are not simply animals, 'mere beasts' as Shakespeare said. Mere nudity does not automatically result in the urge to rut."

"No, of course not."

I mean there has to be attraction and I might not find you attractive and I could not imagine you would find me attractive... in a sexual sense as opposed to being a pleasant sort of gentleman to talk to, of course!"

She laughed. "No indeed." He was indeed entertaining.

"In Germany nudity is so much less a concern, rather it seems a national passion, whether it is sunbathing in the Tiergarten in Berlin or sitting in the often mixed sauna."

"Mixed sauna?"

"Yes, very often mixed; even mixed changing rooms but not the swimming pool. Costumes are worn there. There is a whole etiquette around the sauna and when you do or not go covered up. Two towels for the sauna: one to sit on and one to dry with from the shower. You enter the sauna naked and sit on your towel; even your feet go on the towel so the oils from your body, apparently, do not damage the wood of the benches; and there you sit enjoying the heat with perhaps dozens of naked Germans of both sexes around you."

"I don't know that I could..."

"Little different from now really - just probably many more men around."

"You've been?"

"Many times. So pleasant to sit quietly in the sauna - you don't talk - it really is a place for contemplation. All taken very seriously by the Germans particularly when the Bademeister does the infusion, the Aufgas, pouring scented water on the coals. A ritual really. There is often a rush of people in before the Badameister enters, often naked himself, to pour the water and then waft the scent, it may be all sorts of different scents, around the sauna with a towel. Polite applause afterwards. You should try it."

"Oh, I don't know. I'd be embarrassed, all those naked men, all those..." She left the word unsaid - she had almost said 'penises.' She did not want to draw attention to sexual 'bits.' Better to stick to nudity in the generality.

"Those magazines," she indicated them strewn across the Formica of the table, "do men really like them?"

"Ah, well that crosses the divide between naturism, mere nudity, and the possibly erotic. Despite what I have said about nakedness being unremarkable, ordinary and not something to get all worked up about: it is of course something men, and women, do get worked up about. Men do find pictures of naked women erotic, particularly if the pose is suggestive - or, of course, downright pornographic. Do you like pictures of naked men? There are such magazines and not just for the gay at heart."

She should not have asked. She had tipped the conversation from nudity to sex.

"I suppose..." What could she say? 'No' would be the easiest thing to say but it was simply not true. It was not as if she bought those sort of magazines but... "Yes, a good looking bloke is a good looking bloke naked as well as clothed." She had said nothing really.

The man smiled and nodded. It was evident he expected more. "Yes, but your attitude is different from men no doubt. Men are more visual I suspect, more inclined to find pictures stimulating."

"Oh, I don't know. I could be turned on by a picture of a good looking man." Had she said a little too much?

"But not enough to buy the magazines?"

"No," she laughed, "certainly not. I remember finding my younger brother's stash once and being quite shocked. But as you say boys will be boys and like to look at them and..." She was doing it again - saying what she shouldn't.

"Wank." He finished for her.

"Quite. Of course it's not as if..." She was doing it again. Implying that she had masturbated. What was she doing talking of such things to a stranger and a man, a naked man as well?

"Girls are no doubt more cerebral - I mean I would not know - all in the mind I suppose rather than looking at pictures." His eyes twinkled with amusement. "The mind being the real sexual organ, of course, and not something on display with Freikörperkultur. Your body may be on display, your genitalia on display, but one keeps ones fantasises to oneself."

What he said was clearly true, even with pictures it was the mind that was aroused, or not, by them. "Yes, I suppose you are right. I think women are less interested in the visual - pictures as you say or seeing naked men in the flesh - and more interested by what is said and in touching." The conversation was getting deep and going where she did not want to go.

"Ah, love and the tactile."

"Yes, I think it is more about being in a relationship than simply sex for its own sake." A thought came to her and she said it without thinking. "And you are wrong about the mind not being on display. I mean, particularly with men you can often enough see if they are thinking about sex - and with naked men, well, it's very clear!"

Crikey. What had she done? She was talking about erections.

"Ah yes. Point taken - a very clear barometer."

Had she imagined it or had his penis got a little bigger? It was still resting on his right thigh. Not that she was particularly looking but she could not help seeing it when she talked to him.

Hannah needed to keep the conversation off sex. She needed to change the subject. "That must be a problem with Freikörperkultur or at naturist camps."

"Yes, on occasion, the done thing is to ignore the natural phenomenon and expect it to go away."

"Well, something for the more visual girls anyway!" What a stupid thing to say.

"Yes, indeed, but not you."

"Depends on the bloke. I did not say..."

"Ah ha!" He smiled. "So not totally cerebral then. You could give a more than cursory glance at a picture of the right naked bloke with an erection?"

What had she led him to? "Maybe."

"And what of the pornographic film? Films of intercourse and so on? No, no I pry too deeply. Let us change the subject. What are your hobbies may I ask?"

Hannah was relieved. The conversation had been going into quite inappropriate areas - not that it had been anything but a proper discussion.

"I ride, I'm a keen horsewoman."

"Gymkhanas, shows, hunting. That sort of thing?"

"Yeah, all of that. Since I was a li'l girl. I've always been around horses. Yeah the mucking out, plaiting the mane - all the girl things but unlike a lot of my friends I haven't lost the passion. I love riding. Of course, you know, horses can be just as embarrassing as people. I mean when a stallion gets a stiffy you know about it!" Why had she said that? She was drawing the conversation back: not he.

"Oh yes, big lads!"

She coloured. But it was her who had mentioned the size of erections. She could not be sure but had his penis just lifted a little off his thigh?

"So does size matter?"

This was ridiculous. She was discussing penile size with a stranger, naked and alone in a hut and, if she was not careful, there was going to be an erection in the room with them. "Does to men I believe: I think the correct, and polite, comment is to say it is not the size but what you do with it that matters!"

It was a good response but... And his penis had moved, her eyes had followed it as it had got up from one thigh and swung across to the other. It was not erect but not as 'soft' as it had been.

"Ha! Yes, back to your 'tactile' point. Yes, indeed. So, no importance on size?"

"Well visually; it's got to be more impressive the bigger it is. I don't think I can deny that!"

"An unusual contest"

"What, judging a row of naked men on the size of their erections!"

"Yes, I am intrigued, would you enjoy wielding the tape measure?"

She gaped. What a question to ask!

"What, points for length, girth and overall appearance?"

His eyes twinkled again. He was clearly amused. "And perhaps for angle of stand as well." His penis was not simply lying down and was definitely looking fatter.

She laughed. It was an amusing idea. "And sustainability - knowing men." Oh no, she had revealed sexual experience as well.

"Well, perhaps enough of that conversation. More tea?"

"Please."

He got up to make more tea. Hannah's eyes dropped to his penis. It was not above the horizontal so was it really technically an erection? But there certainly was a lot more than there had been.

It was funny seeing a man walking around doing normal things with almost an erection. He seemed unconcerned but he saw where her eyes were looking. Hannah reddened. She needed to explain herself.

"They don't stay still do they? Must be so odd having something like that hanging around." Why had she said that?

"Sorry about this," he waved in the general direction of his penis. The man filled the kettle and walked back with his penis showing no sign of getting any smaller. In fact, and Hannah could not stop watching it, the thing was getting near to the horizontal.

"Not a problem you ladies have except, perhaps, if you don't mind me mentioning it, for nipples which too can have a life of their own. Both respond to temperature, hiding away when it is cold and, of course, both respond to various other stimulae. The penis, as you say, does seem to change its shape or size a lot during the day - and that is ignoring full tumescence. It was a problem in the past for the ladies' equivalent of lads' magazines - but with naked men of course - as to what was or what was not an erection. Was the naked man simply warm and well endowered or was that an erection? The publishers could not show erections but..."

"I could suggest my, how can I put it - change of shape - was a need to go around the back of the hut again but, alas that would not be true. The rather stupid discussion I started had an effect; you see I have a thing about horse riding women. Had you not mentioned that and my subconscious not pictured you on a horse I would have been quite all right! Still let's pretend it's not really there and, as we said about Freikörperkultur, just ignore it and it will hopefully go away."

It did not however go away. On the contrary it got bigger as the foreskin rolled fully back all on its own exposing the shiny purple head. There was something about the retraction which seemed dangerously sexual. Hannah told herself not to look: but it was difficult as its motion drew the eye and the way the foreskin peeled back all of itself had such a strong erotic imagery.

"Oh dear," said the man, "the ancient Greeks would not have approved at all."

It was a penis that would not disgrace the man in the contest they had been discussing earlier. It was now at full stand. There was no way Hannah could pretend it was not an erection. She was indeed in a workman's hut by the railway with a naked man sporting a full erection - and, incidentally, making her a mug of tea.

Why would the ancient Greeks not have approved? He was standing in profile looking at the kettle, the head of his penis almost touching his stomach. Not only was the penis large but it would score highly in the 'angle' category. Hannah swallowed. What was she thinking and why were her nipples getting a little less flat? Surely she was not too responding to the stupid talk about erections and sex? Surely he would not notice her own little erections? She had to say something.

"What do you mean?"

He turned to her. His penis was pointing in her direction - all hard with its shiny bulbous purple head so prominent.

"Ah, you see the Greeks did not regard the naked body as something to be ashamed of or to be hidden as a matter of modesty. Yes a bit like the Freikörperkultur. Far from it, indeed their athletes ran and wrestled naked. That said what they did regard as I suppose obscene was a man's glans, the bell end under the foreskin. Athletes used to tie a string or leather thong around the foreskin to stop it retracting and embarrassing them - the kynodesme. It kept that all hidden away. I am sorry but I am anything but hidden away!"

The man poured the water from the kettle. So strange to see a man doing this ordinary act with a full blown erection. It was not subsiding.

He walked towards her carrying the mug of tea. It was the most bizarre thing; a naked man with a really big erection bringing her a mug of tea in a workman's hut. It was not as if it was in her face; sitting down it was a little below that; though probably the head was level with her chin, but it was close and her eyes flicked from it to the proffered mug of tea and back again. It was there in all its detail - up close and personal. She took the tea. Had she been inclined she could, with very little movement, have engulfed the thing with her mouth and fellated it as she played with his hanging testicles. The whole thing was ridiculous but she had been almost tempted. It certainly was a very attractive penis and she felt not a little turned on.

"Thank you."

"I'm really sorry about this."

Was he?

"I think I'll go outside and see if walking around a bit has the cold shower effect."

"Should you? I mean, don't be seen like that. Should I come with you? No, I don't suppose that will be much help at all."

"A kind offer, but no point in you getting cold yourself."

The door opened and closed. She was alone. Quickly Hannah put the tea down and went over to her clothes but her hope that they were now dry was dashed just as quickly. It was worth rearranging them and turning them over. Perhaps her blouse would not look too crumpled when it was dry. Slowly she walked back to her seat. What was she doing in this hut with this man? Had she been told that very morning she would be sitting naked in a workman's hut with a naked, erect stranger and feeling aroused herself she would not for one moment have believed it. She was after all meant to be on the train to London. Her hand stole to her breasts - yes her nipples were hard like peas. She opened her thighs and dropped the other hand to touch - yes she was wet alright and the touch of her fingers on her clit made her bite her lip. Had she been alone then...?

And suddenly she was not alone; the door opened again and the man came back in dripping with rain to see her sitting there with one hand to her breast and the other very obviously touching her sex.

His erection had subsided somewhat but as she sat there like a rabbit caught in the headlights she could see it start to pump up again.

The man frowned, "Not you as well!"

What could she say? He could see her hard nipples as well as she could see his erection. Her legs clamped shut but he had seen where her hand was and, more than likely in the fluorescent light, seen the wet sheen of her aroused sex.

He sat back down on his bench. His erection as strong as before.

"Still raining, still horrible out there. Nobody around."

"You didn't walk up to the station?" She could not imagine he had - like that.