Free House of Holes by Nicholson Baker

said.
    “Hello,” said Shandee. “Welcome to the House of Holes. I guess I’m supposed to spray you. Are you okay with that?”
    “Yes,” he said. He closed his eyes again, and she sprayed him all over with soapy water and then began scrubbing down his chest with her orange sponge mittens. She reached his genitals and scrubbed his short, thick penis, which lay against his stomach, lengthening, and his balls, which were warm and heavy and loose. Then she scrubbed down his legs and back up to his balls again, trying to maintain a professional frown. She noticed as she straightened that his penis was no longer lying back, but was now pointing diagonally at a corner of the room.
    She sprayed, rinsing it. And then, with a clink of dragger chains, the massage tables lurched into motion.
    “Bye,” she said.
    “Bye, thanks,” he said.
    Another man emerged through the flaps. She washed his penis. Then another. Most of the men lay quite still. One tried to grope her, and she said, “Oh, stop it,” and sprayed water in his face.
    More men to be washed. She was really starting to get into the rhythm of it. Just when she felt relaxed, Ruzty appeared. He was propped up on an elbow, looking around for her. When he came through the flaps he broke into a relieved beaming smile. He wasn’t quite so muscly as some—built more like a snowboarder than a bodybuilder—and he lay with one knee up. “I’m so lucky to see you,” he said.
    “I’m lucky to see you. I thought about you yesterday. I did rude things to an orange.”
    She gently put his knee down and washed his stomach. She washed his legs. She didn’t touch his cock, although it was the most beautiful cock she’d ever seen. It lay there.
    “This is pleasant,” he said. “I’m lying here while a woman scrubs me.”
    She scrubbed his calves and thighs.
    “Uh, would you mind also washing my private places?” he said.
    “Oh, I’d like to, but I’m afraid I can’t,” said Shandee.
    He looked at her with eyebrows raised.
    “If I start washing your private places,” Shandee explained, “I’ll get carried away and want to jerk you and watch you come, and you heard what Lila said—we’re not allowed to.”
    He made a whimpering sound. “Just look at my cock. Look at how bad it needs you. Is it really true that you don’t mind that it curves?”
    “Believe me, I don’t mind,” Shandee said. “Your cock is a revelation. Some have a hammer, and some have a sickle.” With this she pressed the spray pedal and drenched Ruzty’s body with warm soapy water. The cock still stood, hunched over, proud and pale and purple tipped. She sponged his forehead gently. “You poor thing,” she said. She hit the spray pedal again and drenched his balls with warm unsoapy water, watching them metamorphose. His mouth was open so she kissed it, and then she looked down at his cock again. She simply couldn’t stop staring at it.
    “Just hold it for one second, will you, please?” he said. “I’m quite desperate.”
    “Oh, okay,” she said. She held his cock in her orange sponge mittens. In a flash he grabbed a sprayer and sprayed her shirt.
    “You!” she said. She looked down. The dark buttons of her nipples were visible through the white fabric.
    “Watch what your nipples do to me,” he said, and he tightened his cock muscles so that his scythe squirmed and nodded like some strange plant.
    “Whooo!” said Shandee.
    “Take off the mittens and hold it, please, please!”
    “I’m going to get in trouble, but okay.” She pulled off her sponge mittens and held her hands under the soapy water till they were slippery. Then she took hold of Ruzty’s cock, which was as hard as a summer squash. She splayed her fingers and moved them over his balls and then over his stomach. She could see his thigh muscles tighten. His cock was straining, and she had to stroke it. She took it in her hand and felt its thickness and its sense of certainty. It was like the Arch of St.