Before and after work-out, these are the places to be.
Them rooms, where some live out their fantasies, while others imagine things that they fancy.
It's where everybody gets to see people in various stages of undress.
It's where everybody gets to see people naked.
It's where everybody gets to see people. Period.
The locker rooms often present opportunities for voyeurism. Men checking out men that interest them or men spying on gym rats who are undressing, the locker rooms are witnesses to such secret behaviour.
And by secret behaviour, I am referring to the act where men glance at the body of someone else who's unaware that he was gawked at. In the locker room, some men like to flaunt their stuff, walking along rows and rows of benches with nothing on but their confidence. While some linger in places where everyone could see them. You would often see these men standing in front of a huge mirror, or near a sink or at a corner where he could just dry himself off while secretly ogling on those who just rolled down their drawers or those who just unwrapped the towels from their waists.
I do get excited when I go to the locker room to change. But I fear locker rooms in a way because I know that there are several pairs of eyes that wander around to watch people do their thing. Vultures hide behind locker doors. They sometimes use wall mirrors and stare at reflections of naked bodies. When I undress, I always see to it that I'm nowhere near mirrors. I strip down to my undies only. I wrap a towel or go to an enclosed changing area when I needed to take of my drawers.
But in the locker rooms, sometimes a free live show comes around. Some men flash their muscular butts while walking from the shower to their lockers. There are some who strip in front of you and you could not help but stare at their members big, small and in various shape and sizes. And in the middle of the scanning, one could identify what religion these men belong. Most of those who strip without batting an eyelash are foreigners. Still, there are some who just tip the scale for a very long time so that other men would salivate as they watch him flex his muscles or flaunt his bulge.
The locker room is like a little flea market. A place where people exchange 'notes', examine the 'wares' and rencontre with 'meat' traders in their undies. It's a little nirvana for the straight-acting dude. A little piece of heaven if you may.
But people who just came from the flea market have plenty of stories to tell.
And I am going to tell you very very soon.