When I entered the sauna, the others were already there. Mr. Jamison and Mr. Murphy were sitting on the upper tier of wooden benches across the wood-paneled room from where Mr. Jamison gestured me to go. They were both naked, sitting on their towels. Mr. Murphy had had his hand on Mr. Jamison’s dick when I came in and I think they had just kissed, but he moved his hand away when I came into the sauna. It was warm in there but not nearly as hot as I thought a sauna should be. Nobody was sweating. Charlie was moaning, but nobody was sweating.

Mr. Jamison extended his hands, palms down, and moved them to indicate I was to lay down on the bench and then rolled them when I went down on my belly. I turned over on my back and he smiled. I’d guessed right on what he wanted me to do. He gestured with both hands like he was opening a book, and I unknotted my towel and flipped it away from my pelvis in both directions. Mrs. Jamison smiled. So did Mr. Murphy. I’d guessed right again.

I was nervous and had been obsessed with what Charlie and I were here for today—what I was being paid $100 for. So, I was hard. It was standing straight up as I lay there on my back, and I was embarrassed that I could be seen being hard. I covered myself with a hand as best as I could, but Mr. Jamison frowned and bunched his hand into a fist and made a motion with it that I had no trouble figuring out. I didn’t respond immediately, but when he put his hand on his dick and started stroking it, I couldn’t pretend not to know what he wanted. With a sigh, I took my dick in my hand and started to slowly beat myself off. Both men smiled, turned their bodies to each other, each reaching for the dick of the other, and they kissed.

As I slow stroked my dick, I turned my face toward the other wall with benches and toward the moaning I’d heard coming from there and what I’d seen out of the corner of my eye when I entered the sauna. It already was happening over there and I shuddered and felt myself getting even harder. Charlie was on the bench on his hands and knees and our freshman gym teacher, Mr. Wong was crouched on top of him. Mr. Wong’s hands were gripping Charlie’s wrists and his face was buried in Charlie’s throat. His plump, but firm naked buttocks were flexing and moving up and down. When he raised up I could see the root of his dick in Charlie’s hole, but when he lowered it, it had disappeared inside Charlie. That’s when Charlie was moaning and gasping—when Mr. Wong had it all inside him. I moaned too. It was the first time I’d seen Charlie being fucked by a man. It was the first time I’d seen anyone being fucked by a man.

Charlie had told me there would be this part—that this was what the $100 each was for. He said it was time I crossed over and that I could make good money from it. I was nervous, though, thinking about what we were doing—what Charlie was already doing and what I’d be doing if I stayed here. Would Mr. Jamison be mad if I got up and left? Would he want the $100 back? Maybe I could keep some of it. Charlie and I had played badminton and a bocce game on the lawn for these men just in our Speedos for over an hour while they oogled us and talked to each other about us. That should be worth part of the money, I thought.

Charlie and I had started fooling around with each other at the beginning of our freshman year, attracted to each other because we were both small for our fourteen years and slim and what some said more pretty than handsome. We hadn’t progressed to doing that much yet, although we had jerked each other off a couple of times, and kissed, of course, and gotten the taste of each other’s dicks. But Charlie was doing much more by the time we were getting serious. I had known I would want to do it with men, and Charlie was doing it with men already. And he told me about it and assured me that the first few times would be a little rough but then it would get to being real nice.

More than that, he got paid for it. He told me that Mr. Wong, our gym teacher, did it, which certainly was news to me, and he said that there was a Mr. Jamison on Oak Street, not too young but good looking and in great shape who paid Charlie for it. And Mr. Jamison had friends who paid too, friends who liked doing it with a fourteen-year-old.

By the time Charlie had told me what and how he did it with men, I was ready to take the plunge—especially since they paid for it. He told me that Mr. Jamison had put a sauna in his house and had invited Charlie to come try it out—and to bring a friend. He’d pay $100 each.

I was that friend.

I looked across the sauna and Mr. Jamison and Mr. Murphy were still jerking each other off but their eyes were on me and my hand pulling on my dick. My thoughts went back to whether I was ready for this, whether I wanted to be here. But the time for thinking about that was over and I moved into thinking about what happened next and then after that, and after a while I was just thinking of the pain and then the pain-pleasure and then about when I’d be earning the next $100.

Mr. Jamison had moved to below me on the upper bench and Mr. Murphy to sitting on the bench below us, pulling on his dick, and watching us.

It started with Mr. Jamison touching my feet and rubbing them with his hands. I couldn’t help but give him a low moan.

“Go with me here, Brian,” Mr. Jamison murmured. “When I move you, stay there until I move you again. Do you understand, Brian?”

“Yes, Mr. Jamison.”

“You’ve taken the money. You have agreed to this.”

“Yes, Mr. Jamison.”

“And this is your first time, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Jamison.”

“I’ll do you right.”

Mr. Murphy muttered, “Sweet,” from the bench below.

Mr. Jamison gently took my ankles in his hands and moved them apart. He bent my legs, spread, and set my feet flat on the bench. “Jack, there’s a pillow over there. Bring it here.” Mr. Murphy moved off and returned with a vinyl-covered pillow.

“Raise your tail, Brian. Mr. Murphy is going to put this pillow under your lower back. Yes, roll your pelvis up, let us see your hole.”

I did so and the pillow went under my lower back. It was cold and I was trembling, but I wasn’t trembling because I was cold. I gasped as I felt his thumb touch me there—at my hole—and then tease the rim.”

“Would you look at that, Jack? Ever seen anything prettier? A virgin’s hole.”

“Sweet,” Mr. Murphy answered, his voice thicker now than before. “Can I... ?”

Apparently, he could, as I felt another thumb at my hole and the two worked together to pull the hole apart. I gasped again and moaned. Involuntarily, I pushed my hips up a bit, into the stroking thumbs.

“Easy there, Brian. All in good time,” Mr. Jamison murmured.

Time started to spin out endlessly into one move transcending into the next. Mr. Jamison placed the palm of a hand on my belly, pressing me down, and I gave a little cry as his thumb penetrated me and held, waiting for me to open to it.”

“Relax, Brian. Just relax for me. Open to me, baby. God, he’s tight.”

“Sweet,” Mr. Murphy murmured.

The thumb remained inside me, moving around. Panting, I worked hard at relaxing. Mr. Murphy’s thumb came up to my mouth and I opened my lips to it, taking it in, sucking his thumb, while Mr. Jamison worked to open me up with his thumb.

Trying to think of anything else but what was happening to me—what was being taken from me for $100—I turned my face toward where Charlie and Mr. Wong were. Charlie was small, like me—only fourteen, like me—and slim of body. Mr. Wong was a bodybuilder. He was big and muscular. Not fat, but I’m sure heavy, although he was supporting most of his weight on his feet a he held Charlie under him, his hands grasping Charlie’s waist. Charlie was writhing under Mr. Wong and crying out both for mercy from the punishing thrusts of the man on top of him but also begging for Mr. Wong to be good to him, to fuck him good.