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I was off in this dreamland, slowly toweling my thigh with one foot on
the bench, when my greatest adventure began. I had lost track of time, and
in my haze, all but a couple of patrons had deserted. I had the whole
locker room to myself, so I took my time. I was indulging my vanity when I
heard a couple of wet footsteps behind me. “Excuse me,” a low voice spoke,
and a warm, strong hand gripped my thigh. “My locker’s right through here,”
came the voice again, and before I could step aside, the man started past
me. His hand was clearly there to keep me from falling over, but it also
held me firmly in place as he inched by. His thigh touched my ass and I
tried to recoil, but the hand held firm and the body kept moving. There was
obviously no intent–the movements were those of a man squeezing into a
movie seat or on his way to the airplane lavatory. He was facing my
backside, and I felt his warm, hairy leg tickle my skin as it went past.