The Furtive Nudist Exposed!

I was washing my hands in the Gents this morning when M***** G*******, who is known to me, entered the lavatory with a small towel folded over his arm. He simpered in discomfort at our encounter, with his customary blushing self-consciousness, before stepping into a cubicle, where he locked himself in.

Now, who needs a towel in a toilet? What was it for?

Is M******* G******* a compulsive nudist? Does he disrobe, and stand there with a towel draped over his forearm in the style of the practicing naturist?

Why? And for how long?

(Come to think of it: what are the nudists doing with those towels?)

However, M******* G******* has nothing to fear, as, due to a draconian court order (following a minor misunderstanding), my mirror-on-the-end-of-a-stick days are over, so we may never know what he is up to; but I'll never be able to see him in the same light again.

Sordid, the whole thing.