Rub a Dub Dub

An expected quiet fishing holiday turns out to be anything but a solitary vacation for Ben Baker. Quite the contrary; he finds himself going with the flow of a rather unorthodox group of new friends, both female and male. A fantasy holiday where Ben just lets himself go.

Chapter 1 -- the hot tub

The origin of nursery rhymes can be more intriguing than one would first suspect. We all know 'rub a dub dub, three men in a tub' and perhaps have even thought, by the time we are adult certainly, what on earth are three blokes doing together in a tub? Of course. in days when hot water did not simply come gushing out of the geyser, tap or faucet but had to be heated in a kettle then it was, no doubt, sensible for all to get in at the same time otherwise the last man to bathe, presumably the candlestick maker if the order of butcher, baker and candlestick maker is followed, was likely to get rather lukewarm bathwater. It would have to be quite a big tub though for all three.

Or was it simply the old version of the hot tub or jacuzzi? Nothing improper with sitting with your same sex friends in a hot tub, or with a mixed group, indeed; though normally you would all be clad in bathing costumes. Perhaps that rather depends on how friendly you are with your friends. But more about that later.

It does, though, still seem a bit odd, a bit gay and clearly jolly, to be three men together in a tub. Seemingly, though, the earliest versions of the nursery rhyme, as published, do differ rather significantly in their wording. Apparently the first recorded version, as long ago as 1798 in 'Christmas Box' published in London, has similar wording to that from a US publication of around 1825, 'Mother Goose's Quarto', published in Boston, Massachusetts. The US version ran:

Hey! rub-a-dub, ho! rub-a-dub, three maids in a tub,

And who do you think were there?

The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker,

And all of them gone to the fair.

Maids not men. Interesting! A rather more titillating idea, and perhaps having more propriety about it. Three men with their penises floating around in the tub does seem rather dodgy, but three maids? Surely perfectly fine; difficult to imagine anything inappropriate going on there: except the strong suspicion that what is described is not simply three girls having a bathe but some sort of sideshow at a fair, a peepshow, where reputable men might gaze upon the naked bodies of young women engaged in jolly bathing together... or perhaps rather more. Is it not a pleasing idea to imagine three maids soaping each other... or more? Not three erections waving around in the tub but very possibly three erections very present as the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker peep slyly at the maids.

So, it would seem, the move from voyeuring upon bathers to bathers alone was somewhat a sanitising of the rhyme -- and it is certainly one of the jolliest of the nursery rhymes. And seemingly not even the bathing remains sometimes, as a common version has them, the three men, not at the fair but 'And all of them out to sea,' as if in some way cast adrift, all three bobbing about on the briny in a wooden barrel. Would it be politically correct now to update the rhyme to include not one but both sexes (neither peeping, of course). Rub a dub dub three persons in a tub! Maybe - maybe not... and should it not be four persons to balance out the sexes. If four, then why not six?

Why not indeed?

Ben Baker was, indeed, in a tub, a hot tub with people he had met only very recently, but they were all on holiday and friendships are struck up pretty quickly on holiday. Perhaps the more so if in a tub together.

The tub seemed to have something of the sideshow at the fair about it. Not all was innocent, you see. On the contrary, it was proving rather naughty. A mixed group and it was, to Ben Baker's surprise, seemingly perfectly acceptable to fondle below the water though, unlike the sideshow perhaps, nothing must be seen above. All close enough, so no one had any idea whose hand it is touching or if anyone is touching anyone else. All you know is who you are touching and that someone is touching you. Is that big breasted Mary? Not that you could see her breasts below the waterline.

There had been nothing untoward - at first. Ben had not expected anything like that at all as they had chatted away in the warm swirling water, but then he felt a hand, not simply upon a leg but on his penis.

All of them so close. Was the hand he could feel on his cock the only one doing something improper or were all the others touching and feeling? He could see them all but only their heads and shoulders, nothing more; everything else was hidden below the water line.

The insistence of Mary that all removed their swimming things once in, had been strange despite her assurance that it was Scandinavian practice to be naked together: only she did not want to 'embarrass them, by all getting in like that.' Ben had rather thought by 'them' she had meant 'him.' It had been very peculiar seeing bits of bikini and swimming shorts tossed from the tub. He had, of course, been last but felt he had to do the same. So odd, so unlike anything he had done before to be sitting in a bath, a large, warm swirling bath naked with other people of both sexes. The tossing was odd: retrieval would be difficult -- or rather requiring full exposure. The coverings had been tossed well away. He had complied. He had gone with the flow. He had followed the group action.

Was it Mary, was it Liz, was it Felicity? The hand was most definitely stroking; were the other penises in the tub similarly being stroked, similarly made firm; were fingers already in vaginas or tickling nipples. Ben had no idea. His hands had most carefully not touched anyone but himself and, even then, he had most certainly not been touching his genitalia. He would not have thought... well probably not... of having a little stroke whilst in the water. A little stroke at the thought of being in that tub with the women all naked. No, probably not, certainly the thought of not being able to subside when it was time to get out distinctly worrying. Yet, he was erecting -- easily erecting -- under the guidance of this stranger's hand.

The conversation was going on as if nothing was happening. Was the hand on his penis the only hand doing something 'improper,' should he perhaps brush it away or, instead, should he take the clandestine opportunity to 'cop a feel.' Might he get an outraged reaction? If he touched Mary would she jump up as if touched by a red-hot poker and the whole easy, comfortable chat in the tub be completely spoilt? She was rather fine though.

It was the second hand slowly sliding up his thigh, stroking his balls and then taking over his penis that settled it for him. It was more than likely, an awful lot was going on that he could not see. As the newcomer, he did not know the rules at all -- his newfound friends had used the tub before, no doubt many times. As he talked, he reached out his hand, very tentatively, in Mary's direction, reaching not for her sex but her large breasts all below the water -- hands and breasts. Did he dare touch, just fingertips? Contact was made and then rather more contact. So smooth and full. He was actually looking at Liz as he did so, sure that his fingers were below the waterline, a rather pointless -- probably -- subterfuge. But there was no hand pushing him away or anything, rather he felt the breast being pushed into his open hand. Mary seemed not at all unhappy at the attention.

He even tried bouncing the breast in his hand, feeling it rise and then drop back. When his hand slid down over her stomach to find her curls in the depths of the bath -- if there were curls. He found a hand already there. It was immediately removed. Was the etiquette to give way to a new hand? Was there really an etiquette to what was happening in the tub? Mary's thighs were open as he gently stroked her fur before running his fingers down between them. So good to be feeling her, enough certainly to make him want to use his other hand upon his cock had someone else not already been stroking his foreskin up and down. He had just curled his fingers up into Mary, quite sure that it was not just the bath water making her slippery when he felt another hand touch his. He gave way to that but not before feeling and thinking the hand seemed very un-male. The fingernails long and the fingers themselves delicate. It did rather seem it was not just the men fingering the women. Other women or at least one woman seemingly had the same idea.

Talk flowed about where to eat that evening. Greg talking about a little place he knew and Liz saying she liked it as well, but perhaps, instead, a barbecue without the bother of driving somewhere.

Women touching other women. Such a kinky thought. And then it came to him that perhaps the hand on his penis was not female; or to use the positive -- was male. Did it matter? Certainly, he could imagine it female and would never know that it was not. Did it matter? But the thought was a bit of a surprise.

Jim looked around, agreeing that white wine would be the better choice and he did not mind Pinot Grigio, Sauvignon Blanc or a local grape, so long as it was chilled. Perhaps it was indeed a man holding his cock there under the water, stroking it as if it was his own. Ben had never held another man's erect cock before but now was the opportunity, a safe opportunity; he could do it completely without anyone knowing, with impunity indeed. Greg or Graham's. He had a choice. Perhaps it was Greg or Graham holding him now, perhaps those fingers curled around his swollen shaft and moving his skin were well experienced at doing just that to their own penis. Worse, he could probably hold both at once -- Greg and Graham's. They were there for the grasping. He had never really had a desire to touch another man, but given the opportunity, an opportunity with no one knowing...

It could just about be the other men were not touching other men, and the women were not touching other women, despite that hand coming between Mary's thighs seeming female. He just did not know, but equally nor would they. He could not see what anyone's hands were doing.

Decisions, decisions -- did he really want to touch another man's penis, touch an erect male organ, given the opportunity was there? Did he want to feel what another man's hard cock felt like? He reached and touched Felicity's rather smaller breasts. They reminded him of another girl long ago. Some good memories there. Gently he tweaked the nipples, pulling at them in the swirling, obscuring water. The woman was not even looking at him but talking to Greg. Did she think it was Greg playing with her nipples? His hand slipped lower and discovered, unlike Mary, a little girl's slit -- totally denuded -- his finger slid up and down the crack. And, as he did so, he felt another's hand upon his cock once more. Male or female? The hand grasped and gently rose up and then down the hidden fleshy pole, before the fingers walked a little further and gently fingered his floating, slack scrotum and his 'eggs.' He was being 'well examined.' A good thought that it might be Felicity, though the hand felt rather large. And then, and he tried not to express any surprise at all, but the fingers wandered further between his legs. His own fingers slid further down between Felicity's legs feeling a certain slipperiness which was not the water of the tub.

"Yes, I like the sound of that. Sounds a great place to eat." Ben spoke as the finger touched his anus, wiggled a bit and pushed slightly at it. His fingers, for their part, had just gone into Felicity and he was talking as if nothing at all was going on. Hardly nothing! A finger which could well be one of Greg's or Graham's rather than the hoped for Felicity, was touching his bottom. Within the hidden depths of the hot water his penis and balls were floating free whilst his sensitive anal opening was tickled. Erotic -- yes; pleasant -- yes; but it might be a man's finger with all the implications of that. Ben looked at Felicity hoping it was her finger. And it was easy enough to imagine it was. His penis, not for the moment being touched, felt so full -- so very hard.

How awfully embarrassing it would be if they all suddenly had to leave the tub. What if one of his new-found friends suggested they all went for a cooling dip in the lake? Would he decide to stay behind or stand with the other men and all expose their erections? That was, and it was an important assumption, assuming the other men were also erect.

Were they? They must be. But what if it was just him, Ben Baker. The thought of him standing with the others and being the only one stiff. Was that just an excuse? It did give him a reason to find out, other than just curiosity. Yes, a reason to touch another man's cock.

Yes, no? It was certainly very pleasant touching Felicity -- and, just possibly, it was her stroking his bottom hole. Ben swallowed and said something else about dinner as another hand grasped his penis once more. More than likely two different people were stimulating him. What an experience -- and all done with no one saying anything about it or giving any indication beneath the water mutual masturbation was the order of the day. So strange not knowing whose hand was touching, but you knew who you were touching.

'Just do it,' he thought and reached. Another hand moved and there, right there in his palm, his fingers curled automatically curling around, was Greg's penis. There was no question Greg was tumescent, no question if his new friend stood up, you would not see his cock as firm and hard as anything -- and it was big, a really big one. Ben's finger and thumb touched together when he encircled and stroked his own penis. It did not with Greg's. So strange to be touching the firm flesh, even stranger to slide his finger and thumb upwards seeking the smooth skin of the head and finding his fingers picking up the loose skin of Greg's foreskin along the way.

Interesting, yes, interesting and it would be rather rude to let go so quickly. His fingers found the smooth head. He was rolling the skin back and letting his fingers gently explore the 'coal scuttle' shape and pronounced splay of the man's penis head, even sliding the tip of his finger around to 'twang' the fraenum before letting his finger rise up and over the urethral opening. Another full grasp and he almost shook his head in disbelief at the length. Nine inches, perhaps? He could not but be impressed. The sudden thought of seeing that pushing at and then into Felicity's denuded slit. Ben would like to see that -- and do the same.

All at once other fingers over his own and he yielded possession of the big cock. Grateful, in a way, to have an excuse to let go. Should he now feel Graham -- or, go back to a woman; to Liz, tall, red headed Liz with her breasts almost showing above the waterline. Had he almost glimpsed a hand upon them, a hand nearly surfacing? He was sure Graham would be as erect as Greg. So, no real excuse to touch Graham's penis. Yet, yet, it would be good to know if Graham had a big cock like Greg or, rather, to be more precise and accurate as to his reasoning, it would be good to know that Graham's was smaller than Ben's own! A matter of masculine pride not to have the smallest cock in a group -- not that in any group before, had he in any way known if his was the smallest or biggest or somewhere in-between.

An easy matter of reaching out and touching -- holding -- the erect organ of a man he had only known for not even two days. The strange realisation he could, if he wished, reach and hold Greg's as well at the same time. A careful feel, an estimating of size as he wanked -- yes wanked -- Graham, sliding the man's foreskin -- almost without thinking. Wanking another man. It was not as big as his own. Definitely! A strange relief. His finger and thumb tips touched much more -- so the girth was less -- and he was sure it was not as long. Moreover, it had a very pronounced bend to it, a real curve. Would that look pleasing to the women? What did they admire in a cock?

Ben looked across the tub to Liz. What did she admire in a penis? Would she like his own? Would she like to suck it? The thought so pleasing, her full lips with orange lipstick opening a little as he imagined pushing the soft skin of his knob against and through them into her mouth.

Did her Veganism extend to not drinking semen? What a thought! Would she spit 'it' out? What about breast milk?

Ben reached across underwater and his hand touched Liz's knee and, surreptitiously, so she would not know it was him, slid forward up the soft thigh feeling for hoped for fur. He was not disappointed. She, for her part, caught him looking at her. He had to say something:

"When did you become a Vegan?"

A serious and detailed response came his way, despite her feeling a hand gently stroking her slit through her pubic hair and then fingers stroking her twin labia before sliding as easy as anything into her body. Would she know it was him?

Ben felt like asking the semen question. It was a perfectly reasonable one given the sexual activity going on all around them in the tub. Yet, it was unacknowledged sexual activity. Had they all been involved together like that before? Was this his introduction into the group, seeing if he was prepared to 'play.' Did they know collectively he was playing? How could they know if his hands had been busy? Perhaps each had reached out to him and therefore each knew he had not reacted adversely to their touch. But they would not know together. Would they compare notes later?

What a thing to be doing, sexually touching a lovely redhead, feeling her intimate areas. His finger moved and gently tickled the rather obvious 'button' he found. He had known where it would be, and it was not difficult to find. With his hand he reached for his own penis and gently wanked it marvelling at what he was doing to the lovely redhead with one hand and pleasuring himself with the other. Liz turned to say something to Felicity and Ben felt a hand touch his wanking hand and, as seemed etiquette, he yielded to the new hand. A strange thing to be yielding possession of his penis to another -- someone who was not his girlfriend. Perhaps it was Liz, but it might just as easily have been Mary or Felicity -- or Greg or Graham. Ben just did not know. No longer having his own penis to stroke he reached again for Graham's and found himself stroking the smooth skin of Liz's clitoris with the finger of one hand and the analogous and equally smooth skin of Graham's knob, his glans penis, with the other. Ben splayed out his fingers around the clitoris and drew up the skin. Was that perhaps a vestigial foreskin he was feeling? There was nothing vestigial about Graham's foreskin in his other hand. It was generous, more generous than his own. In a way it made him feel better, the idea of a penis as a rather enormous clit: not too gay then...

Another hand atop his own and he gave up Graham's cock and, instead, found his hand back between Mary's thighs. His fingers playing with two women at once as he sat there in the swirling water with his own foreskin being steadily tugged up and down by... someone.

He had done the rounds. Had everyone else?

A sudden trembling between Liz's thighs. A sudden pause in her speaking causing everyone to look at her. Yet almost immediately she resumed as if nothing had happened -- or was it still happening? Ben did not stop his stroking, delighted at the idea that he might just have made the redhead 'come.' He did not stop until his fingers were brushed aside, rather briskly. Was that, perhaps, Liz's hand pushing him away having suddenly become too sensitive? His hand moved under the water, resting momentarily on Greg's hairy thigh before moving up it just as he had done with Liz. But no longer did his hand close on a fleshy truncheon but upon a soft, floppy penis. It was not what it had been before. The man had presumably ejaculated; privately, secretly with no one knowing that all. It might even have been his own hand that had done the deed, it might have been Liz's or Mary's or Felicity's -- or, of course, Graham's or Greg's. Would you know if the penis you were wanking secretly underwater was coming? Would you know that the knob was projecting strands of white out into the swirling water? Greg had said nothing, not even grunted or sighed. Perhaps the owner of the hand that had finally caused the ejaculation had not known it was happening until the big penis began to lose its rigidity. It hadn't been him he was sure! Perhaps it had been Greg himself -- he would have known what his hand was doing!