Page 5 of The Panther’s Edge

I found a spot in the corner where the shadows were deepest and let myself sink down until the water was up to my neck. Around me, I could hear the soft sounds of pleasure, the occasional moan or laugh. Someone was definitely fucking a few feet away, but I couldn’t see them clearly enough to feel like I was intruding or spying on them.

My hand found my cock under the water without any real decision on my part. It was already fully hard, had been since I’d watched those three men in the shower. I started stroking slowly, carefully, like I was testing whether this was actually happening or if I’d fallen asleep in my truck and this was just some fever dream my exhausted brain had conjured up.

A shadow moved in the water next to me. I froze for a second, but then I heard a voice, low and warm.

“Hey.”

I turned to see a man, maybe around my age, with dark skin and kind eyes. He was close enough that I could see him clearly despite the dim light. Not so close that he was invading my space, but close enough that the intention was clear.

“Hi,” I managed.

“We don’t usually do names here,” he said, and held out a hand.

“Oh. Okay,” I said, and shook it. His grip was firm, his skin warm. “Nice to meet you I guess.”

“First time?” he asked, and I nodded. “Yeah, I figured. You’ve got that look. Like you’re not sure if you’re allowed to be here.”

“I’m not sure I am,” I admitted.

He smiled. “You’re allowed. You’re here, you’re not hurting anyone, you’re being respectful. That’s all that matters.”

We floated there for a moment, and I realized I’d stopped stroking myself. My hand had gone still under the water, resting against my thigh.

“You don’t have to do anything,” the man said quietly. “We can just talk if you want. Or I can leave you alone. Whatever you need.”

I thought about Roz’s words. About needing to remember what it felt like to want something. About needing to feel alive again.

“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” I said honestly.

“Most people don’t, their first time,” he replied. “But you came anyway. That’s a start.”

He was right. I had come. I’d left my apartment, I’d driven across the city, I’d walked into this place despite every instinct telling me it was a mistake. And now I was standing in warm water with a man who was looking at me like he’d be happy to do whatever I asked of him.

“What if I’m not good at this?” I asked, and it came out more vulnerable than I intended.

“At what? Being here? Fucking?” he moved a little closer, his hand finding mine under the water. “You don’t have to be good at anything. Besides, some of us are just here to help others out, no reciprocation needed.”

The implication was clear.

“I… uh… I’m not very good at that,” I said, shaking my head. “Usually I’m the one helping the other person out.”

“Well, there’s glory holes upstairs if that’s more your vibe,” he nodded. “Or I’m sure there’s some guys here in the bath that would be willing to let you do that. How do you feel about everyone watching you?”

Anxiety bloomed in my chest. “Uh… not great.”

He smiled. “Maybe the glory holes then. Nobody will see you and you can service all the guys you want.” He pulled a hand out of the water, pointing toward a door on the far side of the pool. I noticed the intricate pattern of light and dark flesh curling down his arm. He had vitiligo. “Take that hallway to the first set of stairs on the left. At the top you’ll see a bunch of rooms. Pick any one you like and I’m sure you’ll get someone who’d love your help.” He gave me a wink. “Maybe you’ll see me there too.”

I nodded, my cheeks hot with embarrassment. “Y-Yeah. Thanks.”

“No problem, buddy. Enjoy the bathhouse.”

I made my way out of the pool, grabbing my towel and wrapping it around my waist as I climbed the wet steps. My heart was still hammering in my chest, a mix of anticipation and nerves that I hadn’t felt in years. The hallway the man had pointed to was dimly lit leading to a set of stairs. I took them up and just like he said, there was another long hall lined with doors on either side. Some were open just a crack, others sealed shut. I could hear sounds coming from behind a few of them, moans, the wet sounds of sex, someone calling out in ecstasy as god knows what was done to them.

I picked a door at random, number seven, and pushed it open.

The room was small, barely larger than a closet, with a bench seat against one wall and a hole cut into the wall at roughly waist height. It was lined with what looked like a rubber gasket to prevent splinters. The whole setup was clinical and efficient in a way that made sense for a place like this. Someone had to clean this place. I sat down on the bench and waited, my pulse still racing.

It didn’t take long. Within maybe thirty seconds, I heard movement on the other side of the wall. A shadow passed across the hole, and then a cock appeared, already half-hard and glistening with pre-cum.