Nancy Drew and the Mystery Poo

So I was sitting in the steam room ... minding my own business ... when in came these two guys. One was a tallish white guy, very cut, lots of lean muscle. The other was a shorter, stockier, Asian guy, also quite pumped. Both had pretty nice dicks. I could tell this because they were both very "excited," when they stepped through the door. That must have been one erotic rinse off. Talk about dynamic tension.

The tall guy sat on the upper bench while the shorter one took a convenient position between his legs on the bench below. Given my annoyance for those who drag things out in the steam room, I mentally applauded the fact that they wasted no time getting down to business. In no time at all, the little Asian dude was coughing and gagging on the other's cock. He soon moved up to an open seat next to the white guy who, like a true gentleman, returned the favor. As I left the steam room for a cooling shower, the last image was of the little muscle dude leaning back, legs askew, with the big white guy going to town.

Apparently he was quite good, because the two of them came out of the steam room just a few seconds before I entered for my second round. Their vacant seats had not yet been claimed, so I placed my foot on the bench in order to step up to the higher seat. And then I looked down. Just inches from my foot, in sharp contrast with the white tile, were a bunch of little brown flecks. Horrified and not trusting my eyes, I did a double take and peered through the steam for a closer look. Was it? No! It couldn't be. It wouldn't be. Could it actually be ... shit?

Well let me tell you, I will not sit in a steam room where there is the slight possibility of shit on the floor. Call me prissy. Call me what you will. But I can barely take some of the sweat funk I am assaulted with, much less the smell of shit. So I pulled a hasty retreat and commenced washing my foot for about five minutes straight. Still, I wondered if I could have been wrong. Surely to God I had misinterpreted something. I mean, that's just not possible.

Another guy who was in the steam room came out and began showering next to me. The two sex hounds had already left, so I discretely turned to him and said, "I know this is a bit of an odd question, but after I left the shower, were those two guys who were getting it on fucking?"

His eyes got a little bit wide. "Well, no," he said, "they didn't. Why?"

"Well," I said, in an even more hushed tone, "when I went back in, it looked like there was shit on the bench below, and I was just wondering."

He again assured me that there had been no fucking. I finished my shower and returned to the locker room.

As I was getting dressed, I noticed yet another guy from the steam room who had witnessed the sweaty twosome. With the mystery still churning in my head, I turned to him and asked quietly, "I know this is a bit of an odd question, but after I left the shower, were those two guys who were getting it on fucking?"

"No," he said. "I didn't see anything like that. Just blowjobs."

"Well," I said, still unable to let it go, "when I went back in, it looked like there was shit on the bench below, and I was just wondering."

That's when a guy piped up behind me. "Oh, the little guy was getting fingered. I was sitting right next to them. I saw the whole thing."

So now you know how little Nancy Drew solved the Mysterious Case of the Steam Room Poo. Although I was horrified, I did take some solace in my quick eye and keen observation skills. And even though it is a disgusting and depraved tale, as is often the case, there is a lesson to be learned. That lesson is: When you're in the steam room, don't drag out sex, and for Christ's sake, don't drag out anything else, either.