Important lessions about hot tubs

My previous encounters with hot tubs have been rather rushed affairs. You will be at some bash and suddenly someone mentions there is a hot tub and before you know it you are flailing away in bubbly water with strangers. Hurrah!

Maybe it was the element of pre-planning that threw me, or perhaps it was just the rather chilly spring evening but I think the main reason that I didn't go onto the tub last night is it was packed with boys.

Chaps were absolutely stuffed in thing like a hairy game of fleshy Tetris. There were four boys in the tub for every girl, and it was a fairly small tub. While the odds may be rather good fun for the girls it would have involved a bit too much manly thigh pressing for my tastes.

One of the girls really did enjoy it, she was some sort of 'glamma model' or at least that is what she insisted on informing us of every five minutes and when the tub contained just her and two other chaps they engaged in some erm, well. I went upstairs for a cocktail with a lovely Iranian girl at that point.

We shared a few more drinks, talked about extreme sports, doing dangerous things and how we met the hostess of the party. At about 3am my new chum scampered off, but before she left she said I should have her phone number and the gave it to me. Which I found rather charming. No mixed signals there.

Downstairs the antics in the hot tub had continued but they still weren't very tempting so I had a brandy for the road and then ambled off home. Home at way past the curfew so I'm probably going to get quite a telling off when I next bump into the flatmate.