I took off my black lacy bra and panties, and in the mirror I saw my nipples peaked and hard. I was more than a little turned on thinking about Kyle. He had broad shoulders and dark, tanned skin. His hair fell to his chin, and he tucked it behind his ears. He was only a few years older than me, but different women were always coming by the office to meet him for lunch or after-work drinks. He’d smile effortlessly at them, and I could imagine him pressing his soft lips against mine.
I grew hot thinking about him, my pussy wet as I imagined him pressing his strong hands around my back and pushing himself against me.
I closed my eyes and dipped a finger between the folds of myself, remembering at the last second to lock the door. I was so horny all of a sudden, and I realized it had been a long time since I’d gotten off.
I rubbed my clit in a circle with my fingers, fast, wishing I had brought my vibe in here so I could prop my leg against the closed toilet lid and open myself wider toward a climax.
That wasn’t going to happen now. I could never get myself to orgasm with my fingers alone. But I could imagine Kyle would be able to. He wouldn’t need any sort of battery-operated device to get my legs dripping wet.
Turning on the faucet, I washed my hands, looking at myself in the mirror as I did. My face had a sweetheart shape and I always appeared younger than I was, but I didn’t feel young right now; I felt hot and turned on. Licking my lips, I splashed cool water on my face. I slipped into my two-piece suit quickly, wanting to get the hell out of the cabin and feel the cold night air against my skin. My body needed to cool down, and a hot cabin wasn’t going to do that.
Leaving the bathroom—and any lingering thoughts of Kyle—behind, I pulled a bathrobe over my shoulders and cinched the belt tight before slipping my Uggs back on. When I reached the door, Callie and Willow reminded me to grab a flashlight.
“Thanks, girls, and be nice to one another,” I called out as I left, my voice full of innocence, without any hint of the hard nipples under my bikini top or my still-pulsing clit that hadn’t been satisfied.
The spa was a short walk away, but it was pitch dark out and I was grateful for the flashlight as I crossed the pebbled path. I pushed open the gate and crossed a small serenity garden filled with Adirondack chairs and large shrubs.
It was a low-key place, not some ritzy resort, and here anything seemed to go. A sign on the gate read “CLOTHING OPTIONAL AREA,” and the group of guys from the lobby were smoking a joint to the right of me. I looked around, my eyes wide, wondering why they weren’t scared of being caught. But then I relaxed, remembering that I wasn’t some teenager, and no one was here to tattle on anyone. And we were in Washington; pot was legal here. Damn, I needed to loosen up.
The guys, bare-chested, had wet hair and towels around their necks. I smiled as my earlier desire to know what was under their thermal shirts was realized. They were chiseled and smooth—six packs on all four of them. They’d probably just left the spa.
I didn’t usually smoke, but somehow out here in the wilderness, without my friends as chaperones, I felt liberated in a way I hadn’t in a long time. If I’d been braver, I’d have walk over and asked for a hit. The last time I had done something truly out of my comfort zone was my junior year in college, when I had sex in the shower with a guy. That was over a year ago, and I bit my lip feeling like it had been way too long since someone had touched me.
Way too long since I had let myself go.
“Hey, you look lost,” said the guy who had stopped to smile earlier. He had long hair like Kyle, but there were a few piercings in this guy’s ears, and his bare chest revealed more skin than I had ever seen of Kyle’s. The rugged, unshaved look worked for me, and I found my eyes grazing to the tanned, bare-skinned space above his shorts.
“No, I’m not lost, just headed to the sauna. The map said it was this way,” I said, pointing down the path.
“Want me to walk you there?” he asked. “You look like you could use a helping hand.” I flashed my light in his eyes, wondering if he was serious. I had no interest in cheese-balls. His eyes were red, and he was clearly stoned.