The smell of chlorine as he walked through the glass double doors of the public pool had a curiously erotic quality for Van. It always had, ever since he took swim lessons here as a teenager. Back then, he was struck by the seeming improbability of the locker rooms and showers -- a space where he had permission to be naked among other men. Truth be told he was still struck today. His weekly visits to the pool for a few laps after a long day at the bakery were a treat.
The pool was quiet this autumn afternoon. Walking through the lobby, he said hello to the girl at the desk and swung open the door to the men's locker room. He was greeted by a wall of humid air, and with it a clean smell of shampoo, chlorine and all the associations they carried for Van: shared nakedness, nerves, curiosity, excitement, a subtle bond between men. He changed into his speedo and rinsed off without crossing paths with anyone.
The main hall echoed with splashes and footsteps, people talking over the lane lines at the far end. Van set his towel on a bench and lowered himself into the lukewarm water. The high ceiling was webbed with light off the water, and enough afternoon sun came through the upper windows to light up the floor-to-ceiling turquoise tile. The place hadn't changed since Van's school days. He slipped into a lane and began a steady breaststroke.
Van cut an unconventional figure in the water. He was barrel-chested with something of a belly, had a hairy chest and shoulders, strong arms and thighs, and wore his dark beard trimmed tidily. Compared to the average lithe, smooth-shaven swimmer, he looked robust and hearty, like a tugboat among sloops. His strokes were enthusiastic and practiced, more than making up for the drag. He felt great in the water.
After a few laps, he hauled himself out and towelled dry. Back in the locker room a few other men had arrived and were talking across the benches. Van stepped out of his speedo and wrung it over a drain. Naked, he hung his towel around his neck and set off for the showers on the far side of the maze-like space. Walking the length of the locker room naked gave him a thrill. Who would he encounter? Who would see him? He walked past the steam room and sauna, where two older men sat naked with knees spread in the heat. Past the toilets and sinks, where a guy his age was shaving in the mirror and nodded hello. Past more lockers and benches to the showers, where he could hear a few running. He hung his towel on a hook and ventured in.
The showers were split into alcoves of three. Often, on busy afternoons, he'd have to squeeze in wherever he could find an open space, but today he chose an alcove to himself. Once the water was warm he stepped under the spray, letting it cascade over his body. Van loved to swim, but this was probably his favourite part of visiting the pool -- showering communally among fellow naked men.
He soaped up and washed himself head to toe, pausing to give special attention to his penis, enjoying the slickness and softness in his hand. As he was washing his beard, another man stepped into the alcove and turned on the shower beside him, greeting Van with a nod and a curt "Hey there."
The man was shorter than Van, a few years further into middle age, fit, and -- Van couldn't help but notice as the man turned to rinse his back -- impressively hung. As the man soaped up, he likewise gave special attention to his lengthy flaccid penis and large balls. "Good swim today?" he asked.
"Yeah, not bad." Van replied, surprised but pleased at the small talk. "Kind of a quick one. You?"
