Shower in the Sauna

By Jack Brighton

A gay sauna on a Saturday night is always a fun place to be. All that hot sweaty naked flesh, hungry for action, makes for a explosive scene.
Our hero takes a tour and checks it all out, playing in the dark room just to get in the mood. Then finally in the sauna he sets things alight and eventually demands a shower. And guess what! It's not water that this guy wants sprayed with; and there are plenty of men who are happy to help out and give him a shower to remember!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Firm Hand Books
• Release date: Oct 31, 2010
• ISBN: 9781458186430

Jack Brighton

Jack Brighton is a British author who specialises in M/M erotica - most of which, but by no means all, falls into the category of BDSM - a way of life that he has rich experience of. There are romantic overtones in some of his work, but you tend to get what it says on the label. All the books fall under the banner 'Flaming Hot Gay BDSM' or 'Flaming Hot Gay Erotica', so don't expect anything else. But do expect them to be flaming hot, with plenty of storyline and character development. A dry sense of humour also features, and a very vivid imagination. He is best known for his 'Tales from The Wild Side' series, where that imagination runs riot.Jack was brought up in a mining community in the west of Scotland, took his degree at Stirling, did a year's post- graduate in Edinburgh, then moved south to London, where he taught for a few years before moving into the finance sector, based in The City. Many of his stories draw on this background - as a gay man trying to find himself in what was more often than not a hostile environment.Having given up the rat race, Jack became a full time writer in 2010. He now lives in Brighton with his long term partner.Jack has also written mainstream fiction under the pen name J. K. Brighton.

Book preview

Shower in the Sauna

By Jack Brighton

Copyright Fergie Boy aka Jack Brighton, 2009

Published by Firm Hand Books at Smashwords

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Please note: this is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This ebook is for sale to adult audiences only. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store the material where it cannot be accessed by minors.

All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older. As a piece of erotic fantasy where licence can be taken, certain scenes involve unprotected sex. This has been done to enhance the story.

Table of Contents

Author’s Note

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Jack Brighton’s Flaming Hot Erotica Collection

Erotica Extract –Spanked at Last

Jack Brighton’s Flaming Hot BDSM Collection

BDSM Series Extract –The Rugby Cub

BDSM Book Extract –The Devil’s Mark

About the Author

Author’s Note

Shower in the Sauna was originally released under the name of Fergie Boy – a pen name which I used initially when writing specifically for Gay Boy Books. The relationship ended quite some time ago, but the name was taken forward. As many of the early ‘Fergie Boy’ books have been reworked, and new editions released, it felt like the right time to bring them under the Jack Brighton umbrella.

Please note that Shower in the Sauna would be classed a gay erotica, without any BDSM content.

Chapter 1

It was Saturday night and I was feeling a little jaded - the evening wasn’t going at all well.

I had gone through my normal ritual: met up with some friends for a drink and a gossip, and done some casual flirting with the sexier hunks in the bar – just for fun of course, as it was far too early to consider leaving with anyone. Then me and my mates headed off together for some full on fun at a club. And that’s where the problem reared its ugly head.

Now let’s get this straight - it wasn’t the club’s fault – it was a cracking night as normal for everyone else. The music was kicking - the DJ banging the sounds out, mixing tried and tested favourites with some innovative new stuff. The place was heaving, full as usual – the air hot and sultry, heavy with testosterone and sweat from the dance floor. And naturally for a gay club, most of the blokes were stripped to the waist, flaunting their goods as they danced on the floor or cruised around – most looking for a shag in a few hours time to round off their night with a bang so to speak. At face value it was all going to form, but sadly it wasn’t clicking for me.

Was it over-familiarity? Perhaps I was bored with the same old scene.

There was probably some justification in that, as I had been doing the clubbing thing for quite a few years now. There were times when I questioned the shallowness of it all, and I suppose that was happening more and more of late – this sense of something better being missing in my life – a chasm that was being masked but in no way filled. But Hey! I’m young, and clubbing is what we do. It’s a weekly ritual, and normally I cast all reservations aside and go out and have a blast – get into the mood, dance like a maniac; then as the night moves on, find myself a man or maybe more than one, setting things up for the next stage of the night which would involve some lengthy full-on sex. Who could get bored with any of that?

Yet I was feeling bored. Tonight at the club just didn’t feel right. It was all a cameo of how it should be.

Why?

Well, as I said – it wasn’t the club – it was me who was the cameo of my normal self. I know there are lads who can play it straight. And by that I don’t mean sexually – very few straight guys would feel comfortable in the sort of nightspots I tend to frequent! I mean straight at the club, using only alcohol, if anything at all, to fuel their party spirit. Booze can be expensive though, especially in a club, and alcohol is a downer which dampens your senses. Whereas me and my mates like to feel much more alive, so we prefer a different type of chemical assistance – a whole cocktail in fact, one that they don’t sell at the bar, but that you take in advance or discreetly in the club, out of sight of security whose job it is to discourage such things.

Yes! I mean drugs!

Oh don’t get too shocked for heaven’s sake, if you think that’s such a big issue. Most youngsters nowadays are popping something or other, and the choice is staggering. It’s what makes the club scene really buzz – and it makes the sex afterwards totally mind-blowing (although you can find it tricky to blow your balls, but that just makes it last for ages). And there lay the problem for this particular night – I was as clean as a whistle - not even any booze floating around in my system, all substances prohibited for the duration of one week due to the medication I was taking for some stupid ear infection.

Fuck! Clubbing without drugs! As I said, some lads can do it, but for me it was a disaster. I suppose once you get used to the buzz that drugs give, you need them or else it all feels flat. So instead of flying, in tune with the music and the guys around me, dancing away totally off my tits – I stood around with a soft drink in hand, watching it like a voyeur, but not taking part.

Oh it wasn’t a complete and utter bore - the men looked good – fit and sweaty, flashing their muscles, tight pert asses and bulging packets. But they seemed on a different level, existing in an alternate world - there to be seen like on a TV screen but totally disconnected from me. Other than the eye candy, it was a bit of a drag – the music was too loud and senseless to my sober brain. And there was no one sensible to talk to - even if I could shout above the noise, they were all off their faces and twittering gibberish. And whereas I normally like the crowded bustle, all those fit sweaty bodies rubbing against mine – tonight I thought there were too many people making it a trial to move around or to find some space to just stand still. The whole scene was a niggling annoyance - the shallowness was all too evident, and that last part especially bugged me no end – I didn’t want to be questioning such a fundamental part of my very existence.

No – it was a bad idea. I should have realised that clubbing wouldn’t work for me straight! But I had turned up and paid good money to get in, so I thought I should try and make the best of it. I gave it an hour, trying to get into things, but the longer I waited, the worse it became.

So – options!

Well, I ran through the obvious. Going home was out of the question – Saturday night was the big