Ask the delivery guys what's next.
From Create Your Own Story
You start to strip. The blond wraps a towel around his waist, and leaves through the far doors. You shiver, and finish stripping, watching as the older delivery man pulls off his brown polyester shirt - he's built. He's definitely kept himself in shape, with a smooth muscular chest and thick arms, and a solid stomach. He watches you strip, smiling, and waits until you're naked and tucking your towel around your waist to take his pants off and reveal his long, cut cock. He wraps a towel around himself. The Italian strips as well, uncovering a wide chest and stomach covered in dark hair, and a thick uncut cock with hairy, low-hanging balls. He wraps his towel around himself, his towel already tenting. He closes the locker on all of your clothes, and smiles at you, picking up the keyring again.
"Next?" you ask, feeling a mix of arousal and a bit of fear.
"This way," the Italian says.
You pass through the far door into a hallway, which has numbered doors down one side, and two labeled doors on the other. The signs read: Steam Room, then Hot Tub, and then you see an open doorway with wet tiled floors you assume leads to the showers, given the noise of spraying water you hear. The Italian checks the keyring, and says "lucky number seven."
You pass doors one, two, and three, and then notice that door number four is open. You catch a brief glimpse of a man lying on a cot as you step by, and your eyes widen. He was built like a wrestler, with a huge chest, massive shoulders, and arms bigger than most men's thighs. He stared out into the hallway, meeting your gaze for a brief moment, and holding a massive dick in one hand, which he was leisurely stroking.
"That's Bull," the gray haired man says, and you blush that he caught you looking. "Strong like a bull. Smart like one, too." He grins.
"You can tell when he's fucking someone from the way the painful screams echo," the Italian says, and swats your ass.
You follow the men to room seven, which the Italian man unlocks. You step inside, and the two men press against you, the gray haired man's muscular chest against your own already a little damp with sweat in the heat of the building, and the Italian's rough hairy chest against your back. The gray haired man's tongue invades your mouth, his trim goatee rough against your chin, and then he pulls back. You look around. The room is pretty plain, small, with a wide cot-like bed, and a small table beside it. It's lit with fluorescent bulbs.
"Okay, one last question," the gray haired man says, with a wicked grin. "You want the door closed, or left open?" He reaches down and grabs your cock through the towel.
You...
