Already it feels like an age has passed since my trip to the naked spa with Napoleon.
I have ticked it off, on the ever-growing list of bat shit crazy things I seem to do, while waiting for my mid-life crisis to pass. At this rate I’m not sure I will make it out the other side?
So far ‘the journey’ has been a very stressful one. I have discovered there is nothing remotely relaxing about being at a naked spa, in fact it’s about as far from relaxing as you could possibly get, unless of course you are very used to hanging around with lots of people in the nude, which I am not. This is my first time!
Done? Ok. Moving on…
Napoleon and I are in the steam room. It is not as big as you would think and it’s steamy, I know, who’d have thought. I am not a fan of steam rooms, or steam in general actually, everything is hot to touch and quite apart from feeling like my chest might close at any moment, I can feel the spots erupting on my skin (apparently this is good but it’s not really. I still have one of them to this very day) the instant we close the door behind us.
Jesus Christ it is bloody hot in here!
I can only imagine what all this steam is doing to my hair? I can no longer feel any on my neck, so that must mean that is has coiled up, spring like, around my ears.
I put waterproof mascara on before we came but I can feel it sliding off my lashes as I sit here and wilt like a vegetable, my skin is bright pink and my freckles are joining up like a bad case of measles. Quite why I went to so much effort to look good is something I will contemplate for days no doubt, as it really wasn’t worth it.
As Napoleon and I sweat profusely in an effort to relieve our pores of all dirt and grime, we are among a small group of people (including hot bod) all following steam room regulations and sitting on our towels, not in them and wearing nothing but a smile. Well, more a grimace in my case. I am still having trouble knowing where to look especially as hot bod is directly opposite me. I can’t imagine what I look like in his eyes and I’m not sure I want to, but in my eyes he is just beautiful. I am subtly trying to compare his penis to Napoleons, if it is smaller I am going to suggest a trade. *laughingface
Would anyone be shocked by my suggestion? I doubt it.
How do you suggest a trade? It’s not like you can just throw your towel in, they are all the same bloody colour. God knows who you would end up with.
Am I getting used to being naked? NO! Will I? God knows, but right now a Vodka would definitely help.
Sadly, there is a no alcohol policy, in fact there are a lot of policies and rules here, most of which make perfect sense, apart from a few. I do completely get the no alcohol rule though. It would be bloody carnage in here if everyone was drinking. I haven’t been ‘upstairs’ yet but everyone is more than a little friendly on the tap water, I can only imagine the debauchery that would go on if anything stronger was available. I think probably better to hang on to some of my inhibitions for now.
I could still kill for a drink though.
Breaking my train of thought, which to be fair was all over the bloody shop and mostly centred on hot bod’s penis, Napoleon announces he is thirsty too. Shall we get a drink and cool down for a bit, he says. I wonder if now is my opportunity to mention swapping. I’m joking. My head is thinking it but I would never say it out loud, would I? Maybe next time. Next time! Next time? Is there going to be a next time?
I stand up and just for a moment I am tempted to put on a bit a show for hot bod. Jesus! What the hell has come over me? All of a sudden I want to bend over and scratch the itch that has suddenly arrived, it’s all this bloody steam. Napoleon asks if I’m OK. I nod, grab my towel and smile at him as he opens the door to let me out. We head up to the lounge, with me leading the way. I feel like I know my around now and am happy walking in front, we chat and say ‘Hi’ to all the naked people passing by and I try not to stop, turn around and have a look at the rear view as they go by. If I could just sit and people watch for an hour I would be more than happy.
Back in the lounge we have a drink and try not to stick to the leather sofas. It is busy now, everywhere you go there are couples milling about. I immediately spot a couple of extraordinarily hairy men and a couple who look like father and daughter, just as Napoleon spots a couple of ‘old friends‘.
I smile and say Hello, as I am introduced and wonder what the term ‘old friends‘ means in a place like this.
We chat politely for a few minutes, before Napoleon makes our excuses and leads me away, he wants to take me upstairs to have a look around. As we make our way out he tells me that Jack and Jill come here a lot. They are not married but they are a couple, as in they are in a relationship together, but they are both happy to indulge in a bit of partner swapping and/or sharing, when the opportunity arises. Oh right, I say as casually as I can muster. I feel like I should ask some questions at this point but I can’t form anything that would make any sense. I am guessing that Napoleon has swapped with them in the past and even though I don’t ask he confirms that he has ‘played’ with Jill.
My first thought about this is not HOLY SHIT! What a bastard. It is, well… if you think that I am ‘playing’ with Jack, you are out of your fucking mind.
You see my problem is this. Jill, is a very attractive forty something woman, with a nice face and from what I could see beyond the burgundy towel, a pretty good figure. However, Jack is a fifty something man with, it has to be said, not great looks and a bloody huge belly. He was not doing it for me. If I’m allowed to be so fussy? Napoleon reads my mind about Jack and laughingly tells me not to worry. You are allowed to say NO, he says. I tell him in no uncertain terms that we need to find a matching pair of lookers if he has any hope of swapping this evening and one with a slightly smaller penis. *winkyface
It is bizarre that Napoleon and I haven’t even slept together as a couple, yet here we are casually talking about swapping/mingling already? Napoleon’s ideal would be for us to ‘get it on’ and then join in with another couple, but as yet I haven’t seen another guy in this place who remotely makes me want to, with the exception of hot bod, who hasn’t been seen since the steam room, a whole other lifetime ago.
Our conversation is cut short as we arrive upstairs and another set of alarm bells are triggered.
The noises coming from up here are incredible. It is very obvious that people are in various stages of play. There are sounds coming at you from all directions, people talking, the moaning sounds of pleasure and the sound of skin on skin. As we walk through the corridor most of the doors are closed but some are open, if the door is open you can stand and watch (if you so desire) check out what is happening. The unwritten rule is – if the door is closed you do not open it but if it is open you can watch or go in, if you want to.
An open door is an invitation.
Jesus! I thought I was having trouble knowing where to look downstairs, I’m all over the place up here. I don’t know where to look first, there is so much going on. Clearly it is only me that needs alcohol to loosen up a bit as I can’t see a single inhibition anywhere up here. As I peek in to one room there is a couple having sex, in another there is a guy stood facing out, while a woman in on her knees in front of him. In the larger room at the end there are three couples all enjoying some touchy feely time with each other and everyone, including the spectators, seems to be having a great time.
Weirdly, I don’t feel like anything is wrong with any of this and I’m not sure if I should? There is a small part of me that wants to see, wants to watch other people and if they want people to watch them then it isn’t wrong, is it? But do I want to join in?
The reason that most of these people are here is because this is what they do, this is what they enjoy, the voyeurism, the group sex or partner swapping, whatever it is, it is fine here as long as everyone is willing and I’ll admit I find it completely fascinating. Some are happy to keep themselves to themselves and others are happy to join in with whatever is on offer.
I am not sure which category I fit in to, or even if I do, but as Napoleon and I went off to find somewhere to ‘lie down‘ I congratulated myself on actually remaining calm and not freaking the fuck out every five minutes like I thought I might. I have pretty much made it through the whole experience unscathed. Providing Napoleon’s gigantic penis doesn’t ruin me.
The room we choose is mirrored and for a few minutes we just lie back looking up at ourselves, talking. Napoleon is stroking my skin and as we chat you could almost be forgiving for thinking you are alone. It is quieter in here, the sounds from the rest of the rooms are muted, but you are still very much aware of the continuous foot fall passing by. It is so hard to relax and just enjoy the experience. Even harder when suddenly you realise THE DOOR IS OPEN and there are people watching us.
A moment of blind panic sets in as my brain tries to work out if this is OK? I decide it is. No one is more surprised about that than me but it is a little bit exciting, knowing that people are being excited by you.
For some reason this all seems very normal, after all this is the naked spa, this is what happens here, most of these people have been coming here for years and come to enjoy everything that is available. Napoleon did his job and looked after me, he encouraged me to be brave but protected me when necessary and was always mindful that I didn’t want to leave this experience scared for life. We, well I, was toe dipping, it was a taster, designed I suppose to see if it was something we would do together in the future.
Looking back on the whole experience, I can’t say wholeheartedly that I enjoyed it, I was too nervous to enjoy it. I couldn’t relax enough to let myself be myself. I’m not sure I am quite beyond the stage of always wondering what other people will think and that holds me back. The thought of sharing a fantasy out loud, never mind trying to realise it. Good heavens! What would people say?
There is of course that tiny part of me that wants to have done better. I worry that for Napoleon it wasn’t as exciting as he would have liked it to be and that if we went again I would be more relaxed, knowing now what to expect. I would be more confident perhaps, engaging with other people, sussing out situations. Who knows?
It was relatively easy visiting the naked spa with Napoleon as we are not attached, there are no feelings involved. Therefore, I wouldn’t have minded had he wanted to ‘put it about a bit‘ so to speak, but if we were a proper couple I don’t know. That changes things, does it? Feelings always change things, don’t they? Although it clearly works for some.
Not one for me to worry about though, as I don’t catch feels. *laughingface
Apparently there are sessions for single people at the naked spa…
One day, maybe.