Crossing the line - 6. Going Naked

A couple of Saturdays later we found ourselves queuing up at a railway arch in Vauxhall that housed a gay club called The Anvil. The men were mainly 20s and 30s, but some older, an interesting stylistic range from trendy to ageing leather daddy. It wasn’t the same arch as I had been used to when I went clubbing regularly, but the idea was similar. The entrance was just a plain brick façade, with a single door which, during the day, was covered with a grill. A single neon sign said, ‘The Anvil’ and that was it, you really had to know what it was.

To a casual observer, would it have screamed gay club? Maybe, but to me the queue of men was diverse enough not to really suggest anything. Neither Dan nor I were typical, but we didn’t exactly stand out either. The weather wasn’t exactly balmy, and some guys were dressed quite minimally, vest and shorts anyone. I wondered, but then some folk seemed to be able to withstand the cold. Dan and I were dressed quite normally, jacket, t-shirt and jeans, Dan had been quite firm in his intentions, he might be taking his clothes off inside the club, but outside he was staying fully dressed.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this!”

“You don’t have to, it’s not compulsory.”

He grinned, “All these guys are going to get naked and have sex.”

“Yes, to the first, maybe to the second. Some are just here to show off, to see what’s on offer, some have particular tastes, and if you fit then they’ll take you home. Not everyone is exhibitionist. Quite.”

We were both staring at a cute, 20-something guy slightly further ahead in the queue, whose jeans were ripped to within an inch of their life, Dan looked at me and his eyes sparkled. I nodded towards ripped-jeans-guy, “You should suggest the look to Mr. H.”

“Maybe he’ll be here?”

“Don’t,” I grinned, “stranger things have happened.”

“You reckon he likes slumming it?”

“Could you see him queuing with us, this place doesn’t offer guest lists or VIP entrance. And bloody hell it’s a few years since I’ve queue up like this.”

He laughed, “Me neither. Maybe Mr H would regard it as part of the experience.”

“Really?”

Dan shook his head, “Can’t see it myself, can you?”

“Frankly, no. He doesn’t look the type to me, scuzzy toilets and floors covered with human emissions don’t strike me as his scene.”

Dan nodded, “Suspect you’re right.”

The queue moved on, and we quickly paid, took our plastic bin bags (which served as clothes receptacles) and went in. There was a grubby so-called changing area with an array of guys stripping off. We found a corner and I tried to avoid the sight of a hairy arse winking at us as a bloke bent over. Oblivious or deliberate?

“Fucking hell”, said under his breath but Dan looked scared.

“You OK?”

“Can’t believe I’m doing this.”

I smiled, stripped off my t-shirt and responded, “It’s not compulsory.” I held up the shirt, as if to put it back on, “It’s not some bizarre ritual that you have to do to join the gay brethren.”

He grinned, nodded, “It’s just when I was a copper this’d be totally off limits. If you were caught wandering round bollock naked and having sex in public”, he made a chopping gesture.

“I can imagine the headlines in the Daily Mail”, we smiled. “I used to know an older bloke who had been around in the old, old days, entrapment, pretty policemen and such. Sending your lot to places like this to get so-called proof.”

Dan looked grim, “And God knows what the guys got up to when they were there. Enjoyed themselves a bit too much, sometimes; I heard a few stories.”

“Not like that now.”

“Well, not quite. Still a few dinosaurs around.”

“So, are we?”, and I motioned pulling my jeans down.

His smile returned, and I was aware that the burly security guy on door was eyeing us up warily.

“You bet.”

With that he dropped his jeans and let everything hang out. He was in a state that, in porn, they often refer to as ‘chubbed up’. The excitement getting to him despite the nerves.

The club was simply a couple of railway arches, rather basically fitted out. A rudimentary bar area near the door, the second arch filled by a metal gantry that enabled guys to walk around, show off on two separate levels.

“Changing rooms apart, this is the most naked guys I’ve seen in one place.”

I smiled, “Any cute ones?”

“Plenty”, and he gave my bum a discreet squeeze. “Quite a selection isn’t there”, said as we passed in quick succession a hairy, large-bellied bear, an average middle-aged guy who kept stroking his dick meaningfully, a couple of young trendy types with cutting edge hair and tattoos, another bear with some serious body piercings and a guy who was completely shaved with his bits crammed into a cock-ring.

“Bet that’s uncomfortable”, Dan looked meaningfully at the cock-ringed guy.

“Not as much as you think.”

“You’ve done that?”

“Yea, in my younger days, helps to create firmness and keep it”, I grinned.

“What do think I’d look like, shaved like that?”

“Sexy, but it’s a lot of investment.” He gave me a puzzled look, so I explained. “You wake up late, so you have two choices. Shave, and be late for work, or get to work on time and itch all day.”

“Ah, you tried it?”

“No, but I knew someone who did.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not quite. Saw him in clubs, sort of a fuck buddy, but he never wanted to go further or perhaps I didn’t.” I shook myself, to throw off the blue mood. But it’s odd, how the strangest of places can bring on confidences. There we were, in a club designed to show off everything, getting rather blue.

“The closest I came to a boyfriend was in the old job, another copper. It was a mistake; we were both paranoid.”

“Not a good start.”

He shook his head; the shaved guy glared at us and strode off. We both laughed. Dan glared at his retreating form, “Were we supposed to take the bait, or is he pissed we were staring, and him dressed like that.”

“It’s pretty much like any other gay meat market, lots of people looking to buy and not so many to sell.”

He smiled, “And the sellers are picky about who they sell to.”

“Yeah, a lack of mystery isn’t always a good thing.”

“You prefer mystery?”

I shrugged, “Sometimes, and then there’s the idea of doing it in full view.”

I led him away from the bar, to where the gloom was deeper, with just patches of light. Recesses contained guys already, though some were well placed to be spotlit. He grinned, “Well, I’ll say this. It’s very educational. You don’t see guys doing it close-up every day.”

Some had more esoteric requirements.

“That bloke?” Dan nodded at a man lurking in the gloom against the far wall.

“The one in the boots and the rubber apron?”

“Yeah, what’s he want?”

“Piss probably, looking to have a nice wet time with someone. You want to go over?”

“Not on your life, not me at all.”

“Nor me.”

After a degree of sightseeing, the obvious did happen, and in full view. I discovered that I’d not lost my taste for having an audience, and Dan clearly had a hidden side, who’d have guessed that a very proper ex-copper liked getting his end away in public.

“I enjoyed that; I hope you did?”, Dan was looking at me somewhat quizzically, uncertain after all that had happened. We were back at my place, having caught the night bus home, just two more weary revellers.

“Yes, I did. Surprised myself, I thought I’d done with such places. It was fun, showing you around.”

His eyes sparkled, “So, that’s what it’s called now, showing me around.” Then he looked a bit bashful, “I realised that, in the right company, I enjoy it, being naked and having an audience.”

“And I’m the right company?”, we were both grinning.

“You bet.”

There was a hug, and more.

“You want to do it again?”

“Are there other places?”

“I imagine so, always used to be a number that had such events.”

“Then perhaps you can show me around some more.”

“So, are you ready to put on a show for Heyward if he wants it?”

Dan guffawed, “I’m a security guard, not a performer but I reckon I could cope with doing me job wearing the minimum.”

“What’s the minimum?”

Another twinkle in his eye, “Maybe a cock ring?”

I could see I’d have to dig mine out.