Steamroom Rebels...

There aren't many things in life I enjoy in quite the same way I cherish my time in the steamroom at the gym. It's warm, dare I say "hot"? It's moist, dare I say "wet"? The dampened heat blankets my entire body like no bathtub I have ever found. It seeps in through my nostrils, gently coating my throat in loving moisture and makes its way into my lungs. I breathe shallow at first, getting used to the new sensation. Once my breaths are deeper I smile and relax into the darkness and think...or not. The only way I can explain the sensation is to say that it feels like an amazing hot bath for your insides as well as out. The sign warns to limit your time in the steamroom, but I rarely do. I'm just a rebel like that.
The steamroom in my gym is not coed, so the women tend to take some liberties I personally wish they'd rethink. To begin with, most women are entirely freer with their bodies than I ever will be. I am not so closed-minded that I think everyone should be as painfully modest as myself. I realize I am on the entire other end of that spectrum. I walk in with a towel around me, and I keep it there until I am in the shower, and then back on again until I am done changing in the little private changing room. Alright, so let's just leave my strange inhibitions out of this. Basically I am fine with the nude female form freely roaming about around me, though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't slightly baffled by their level of comfort. What I am not fine with, and what baffles me even more, are the ladies who freely flop their nakedness on the benches everyone sits on. It takes only moments being inside the room for every inch of your body to become as moist as the drops of water falling from the ceiling. Wouldn't you want to sit ON something? Yet there I sit in my towel, surrounded by women of every shape and size, lying all around me. Sometimes they splay themselves. Luckily it's often too steamy to really be affected by this. So there I sit, doing my best to stop contemplating why I am so damned shy, when someone walks in with loofa mitts on and she is now rubbing them all over her entire body. I can just picture her little skin flakes floating to the floor and sticking to the dampness. People come in there with lotions, and pumice, doing things they have NO business doing in a public steamroom! Before anyone out there is thinking this is, in any way, erotic, bare in mind this ain't no playboy mansion steamroom. There are rules that instruct women not to do any personal grooming in the steamroom. Evidently, like my staying in much longer than the limited time recommended, these women are rebels too. Tonight it was just one woman and myself. This woman lay splayed out, boobs sagging under her arms, and she hoists her foot up to her knee and starts sloughing. She sloughs and sloughs. I sit there, trying to think...or not think...and all I can think is how her fowl foot grime is just gonna be hanging out after she goes. I imagine it falling on her droopy boobs and wonder why she would even want to do that in here. All I can hear is the sloughing. Not only that, she is grunting and sighing. Don't get me wrong, I feel her...it feels damn good in there, worthy of a sigh or a groan if no one was there, but I can control myself. So she grunts, sighs, and sloughs. She continues this on the other foot, and then begins anew on the original foot. She may start to bleed all over the steamroom, for all the public sloughing she feels it necessary to do. I guess she'd feel fine with that too. Where do they draw the line? Let's cut our toenails together, and shave our legs...enema anyone? There are just some things that should be left at home. It isn't like you can't loofa away the top layer of your skin in the privacy of your own shower. Then you can rub and rub and rub to your hearts content, and I don't have to watch it. It is because of the rebellion of this "no personal grooming" rule that my own rebellion of lingering too long in the moistened air gets cut short. I try to remain as long as I can, but in the busier moments at the gym, I would just rather not have to deal with the other rebels.