Chapter 5
Chapter Five
A fter Thorsteinn Castle, we revisited the Black Forest. Roman and I did the zip-lining again, which was just as much fun as last time, but without the drama of Lydia. On day fourteen of our tour, we got up nice and early for our seven-hour drive to Berlin. Roman seemed to have snapped out of his brooding and everything was back to normal.
Except for my bloody ticking clock.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
We arrived in Berlin just after lunchtime, and I shifted straight into walking the streets of Berlin, showing all the major attractions to my group; the site where Hitler committed suicide, which was now a parking lot; a dozen important buildings that either survived the war or were rebuilt after it; and Checkpoint Charlie, which in my opinion was about as cheesy as a fondue.
My group had an hour to roam around the 2,711 slabs of concrete at the Holocaust Memorial, which was a powerful yet simple tribute to the Jews who died as a result of Hitler’s war. Finally, we headed to the Berlin Wall, and that was where I left them. They were free to do whatever they wanted for the rest of the evening.
I, however, was going to tick off something new.
On account of the Berlin tour being a walking one, I hadn’t seen Roman since he drove off to park the bus. And I didn’t really want to see him either. Not with what I had planned for the evening.
Tonight, I was going to do one of Zali’s out of my comfort zone choices. It wasn’t just out of my comfort zone; it was off the planet. But it was something that was unique to Europe.
So, it was now or probably never.
Back at the hotel, I successfully managed to avoid Roman as I quickly showered and headed out again.
The sun was hidden behind the clouds, casting an eerie gray glow over the city streets. And it was unseasonably cold—at least five degrees below expected. My breath misted with each exhale, and I kept my hands well and truly embedded in my coat pockets.
Berlin had seen its share of misery over the decades, but it’d bounced back. Street art was everywhere, as were bars, clubs, and restaurants that were thriving. Boutique brew houses were on almost every corner. Berliners were an eclectic mix of young people stamping their claim to individuality, and middle-aged couples who made bold choices with their appearances. It was fun to be out, and everywhere I looked there was something interesting to see.
By the time I reached my destination, my heart was thumping. Not from the forty-minute walk to get there. Nope, fortunately Berlin was very flat. It was because of what I was about to do.
Walking through the grand entrance was like stepping into an oasis in the Far East. A long, covered walkway lined with bamboo hedges, carved pillars, and lush vegetation, led me to the spa that Zali had said I ‘absolutely had to go to’.
But this was no ordinary day spa. This was over two hundred thousand square feet of relaxation bliss. The thing was, Vabali was a no-textile experience.
I was officially heading into a nudist society.
At the reception counter, I was greeted by a young German woman who spoke perfect English. Her skin glowed and her smile radiated. She explained the concept and processes, applied what looked like a plastic watch to my wrist, and directed me through the next doorway.
Yet another counter and yet another vibrant young woman, this time to hand over a bathrobe, towel, and slippers. Their professionalism was excellent. Every outlook was a delight to the senses. I’d walked into an island paradise in the middle of Berlin. It even smelled like heaven—tropical and fresh.
The second I walked into the communal locker room, my jaw dropped. I had walked into heaven. Right in front of me was a naked man. And not just any naked man. This guy was every raunchy woman’s wet dream. It was a wonder I didn’t trip over my tongue as I forced my eyes away from his glorious body and strolled about the locker room, trying to concentrate on the tiny numbers embossed into each locker door.
Around the corner was yet another man and four women—all naked. All stunning. They were chatting away like they were sitting at a bar having a few drinks, and not totally starkers.
The farther I walked, the more people I encountered. Not one of them tried to be discreet. Maybe it was a German thing. All their bits were hanging out. And, oh my Lord, some of those bits were mighty impressive .
I found my locker and opened the door. Placing my robe and towel on the wooden slatted bench seat behind me, I inhaled a slow and steady breath. I’d reached the point of no return.
I was about to get naked in front of what could potentially be hundreds of people.
Oh, God. What was I thinking?
I clutched the towel to my chest as if I was already topless. And as I verged on hyperventilating till I passed out, I snuck glances over my shoulder. Everyone was naked. But not a single person glanced at me.
It was like I was invisible. I liked being invisible.
Gradually the wave of panic that threatened to engulf me subsided, and I lowered the towel. I sat on the bench and took off my sneakers and socks. As I shoved them into my locker, a man who could be a contender for Porn-Stars-R-Us opened the locker beside me.
Right beside me.
He wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing and his schlong was long. Halfway-down-his-thigh long. That bad boy must’ve been slapping against his leg with every step he took.
He turned to me. And I had no fucking idea where to focus. I must’ve looked like a complete nutter as my eyes bounced from his jewels to his face and to my locker, and finally to my feet. My heart hit overload at how stunning he was—blond hair, blue eyes, chiseled jaw, built like a pro-footballer.
Good God, I have walked into heaven.
“Guten abend .“ His masculine voice, deep and dipped in molasses, matched his physique perfectly.
I glanced up. He was nodding at me. “Oh, hi.” I waved. I am such an idiot.
He cocked his head. “Australian?”
“Oh, that noticeable, huh? ”
When he grinned, the whole world lit up. “I work with an Australian. I can spot that accent anywhere.”
“Oh.” Fucking hell. One more ‘oh’ and he’d think I was the porn star.
“So, do you come here often?”
I cocked my head, blinking at him.
“Fuck, that sounded like a line.” He burst out laughing and my heart cartwheeled as his cock bounced up and down. Not that I was looking.
Okay, totally looking.
But for fuck’s sake, he was right there. Two feet away. Naked. I laughed with him, shaking my head and wondering if I was being punked. Maybe Roman and Zali had got into cahoots together somehow and set me up with Mr. Universe.
“So, do you?”
“Huh?”
“Do you come here often?”
“Well, ummm, no, actually. First time.”
His eyes lit up. “Would you like me to show you around?”
My breath shot in and out so fast I was going to pass out. I eased onto the bench seat.
“You okay?” He sat beside me.
Good lord. I fanned myself. Totally uncool.
He chuckled.
I looked around to see if I was being punked. Nope, it was just me and his holy hotness. “I’m sorry. It’s just.” I blew air out and cleared my throat. “I’m just not used to this naked thing.”
“Oh, right. Rebecca, my workmate—she was like that when I brought her here for the first time. I never knew Aussies were so square. I mean, you guys love to drink and party, but getting your gear off?” He shook his head. “Anyway, here we are.” He waved his hand over his cock, drawing my fucking attention. He had so much of my attention I was forgetting to breathe.
“You’ll get used to it. Come on. Get undressed. I haven’t met an Aussie yet who wasn’t fun. We’ll have a great time.”
I had to force my mouth closed. “Okay, but ummm, can you turn around?”
He chuckled again. “Sure. How about I meet you on the other side?”
I nodded like a bobblehead doll in an earthquake.
“Cool. Don’t go running away.” He winked at me and turned.
The bulge and flex of his ass stole my gaze as he crossed the room. Clutching my chest, I huffed out a few mammoth breaths.
What the fuck just happened?
People continued to stroll about the locker room and still nobody looked at me.
Come on, Daisy. You are here now.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
I can do this. I can do this.
I whipped off my clothes, and like an act in a magic show, I wrapped the robe around myself with lightning speed, drawing the belt so tight it was a wonder I didn’t cut myself in half.
I shoved everything into my locker, shut the door, and leaned against it for a couple of long, deep breaths before I pushed off. Forcing my feet to move, I shuffled my slippers toward the locker-room exit with a million thoughts whizzing through my brain.
I am fucking naked under here!
Who the hell is that guy?
I can’t wait to tell Zali about this one.
I stepped through the door and he was right there. He held his hand toward me. “I’m Jonas, by the way. ”
My hand disappeared into his. “Daisy.”
“Come on then. There’s a lot to see.”
The room I’d entered was enormous. It had very high ceilings, and in the center was a rectangular pool that was a glorious turquoise color. Buddha statues were dotted around it and hanging high above was what looked like a giant Turkish tea light.
People wandered around freely, some in robes or towels, but most were naked. Several were lying on deck chairs, reading books, sipping drinks, or chatting like they were sitting at a family barbeque. Well, not a family barbeque, ’cause that’d be weird, being naked and all.
It was strange not seeing anyone in a group this large on their phone. They were strictly prohibited. Thank God. I guessed there was nowhere to put them even if you wanted to bring one in. At least I didn’t have to worry about my tits ending up on some random clickbait thingy.
The variety of ages and body sizes was extraordinary. But it was the women’s tits that I had trouble skipping over. Other than my own breasts and Zali’s, I’d never seen another woman’s boobs in real life. The differences between them were astonishing. I mean, it was not like I didn’t know that all boobs were different. But seriously, all boobs were different. Different sizes. Different-colored areolas. Big and bulging. Rounded and full. Flat, and the absolutely nonexistent. Even the different directions the nipples faced—up and perky. Down and droopy. Aiming out to the sides.
I was verging on being a creepy voyeur. Maybe that’s why men were so fascinated. Boobs really were captivating.
I turned my attention to the men in the room, in particular. . . their dicks. Lordy. Lordy. It was a penis smorgasbord. Big. Really big. And then there were the small ones. One guy strutted past me with biceps so big he could’ve probably lifted a fridge with his bare hands, yet his cock was so tiny it had shriveled into a ball. Not that he seemed to care. He didn’t even have hair to hide it.
That was the other thing—I thought I’d be the only one with pubic hair. Nope. The Germans seemed to like a bit of bush.
I felt right at home. Sort of.
“You can hang your robe over here.” Jonas pointed at a rack of hooks.
I blinked at him. He blinked at me.
Oh, God. This was it.
Swallowing back the last of my inhibitions, I peeled off my robe. My heart was in my throat as I hung it on a spare hook.
I, Daisy Chayne, was standing naked in a room full of people.
Hoooooly shit! What the fuck am I doing?
Jonas had removed his slippers and draped his towel over his shoulder. And, copying his move, I did the same, discreetly adjusting the towel over my breasts.
“We’ll do a sauna first. You okay with that?”
“Sure.” Hell, sign me up for anything right now. I have clearly lost my marbles.
He directed my attention to a chalkboard. “Do you have a preference?”
I studied a list detailing the dozen or so saunas to choose from. Both dry and wet. Each one offered a different sensory experience. Different aromas. Different settings. Different temperatures. Different sounds too . . . Balinese, birds, waves at the beach. Even silence for those who wished to meditate. The options were overwhelming.
“I . . . I don’t know. Which one’s your favorite?”
“Don’t really have one.” He shrugged. “Let’s start around here.”
Walking at his side and trying not to peek at his cock flopping about, I arrived at a glass door. He opened it and guided me forward. The instant I entered, both heat and delightful scents of hot timber and oriental spices hit me. Six other people were in there and the guy right in front—bald, wrinkled, bulging belly, and seated with his legs wide apart—had his balls flopped onto his towel.
Good God!
I snapped my eyes away and they landed on Jonas, who was everything the other man was not. After folding his towel, he placed it onto the top row of seats, and when he climbed the rows, I was treated to a truly world-altering view of what a man’s ass should look like. At the top, he sat and patted the spot by his side.
Barely able to breathe, I followed him up the rows of seats, folded my towel over the wooden rungs, and sat.
Jonas glanced at me—at my eyes and not my tits, that was—and I was stunned by how blue his eyes were. Like a perfect summer sky. “Have you been in a sauna before?”
“No, actually. This is my first.” I was doing so many firsts right now my head was spinning.
“That’s what Rebecca had said too. Now she comes here all the time. Hey, if she comes tonight, I’ll introduce you. She’s just like you.”
“Really?” That’d be a first. Nobody was like me.
“Well, you know what I mean?”
The sauna’s dry heat made my eyeballs feel weird when I blinked at him. “Ummm, no.”
“You know—funny, spontaneous.”
Oh, jeez. Funny-weird maybe, but spontaneous? Hell no. I couldn’t even choose a meal without pondering all the choices. No, that was not me. Then again, I was sitting in a sauna with seven naked strangers. Two of whom were old enough to be grandparents.
“What part of Australia are you from? ”
I hated it when people asked me that. “Sydney,” I said the first city that popped into my head.
“Hey, so’s Rebecca. It’d be funny if you knew each other.”
“Yeah, that would be funny.” Fuck no. Not funny at all. Last thing I needed with my tits sitting on my knees was to run into anybody I knew.
The sweat beading on his skin enhanced his hairless chest even more. His thighs, too, glistened. It seemed weird that he hadn’t looked at my breasts. I mean, they were right there on full display. In fact, I hadn’t noticed anyone ogling. Except me. I couldn’t help it. Maybe having boobs on full display meant people didn’t feel the need to sneak glances anymore.
It was a weird revelation.
Grandma, opposite me, had boobs that were so flat she could probably roll them up like a yoga mat.
The breasts on the two young women below her were different again. The brunette had a figure that gold statues were made of and her tits were like perfect peaches freshly plucked from a tree. Her friend, however, forgot to put her hand up when God was giving out breast tissue. Her areolas though, were prominent, dusty-pink headlights.
The air was getting hotter and dryer by the minute, and the more we sat, the more sweat trickled down my body. Beneath my boobs. Down the small of my back. From my temples. Jonas tilted his head back, and I watched mesmerized as a bead of sweat dribbled down his neck, over the defined curve of his chest muscle, and got barricaded by his erect nipple. Jonas eased forward and I snapped my eyes away.
“Ready to try another one?”
“Uh-huh.” Hell yeah. I was in voyeuristic heaven. I could do this all night long.
In the back of my mind, I registered that we had a six o’clock departure in the morning. Usually, I’d make sure I went to bed early on this night.
Not tonight. Not when I was doing something new. This was way more important than sleep. And it was fun. And interesting. And eye-opening.
Besides, I could sleep on the bus tomorrow.
From the Bali-inspired dry sauna, we went to a wet sauna. This time it was just the two of us. As I settled onto a seat, I watched Jonas’s back muscles ripple as he tipped a ladle of water over the hot coals. They sizzled to life and steam clouded our wood-lined room.
Jonas sat beside me, propping one leg up onto the seat . . . steaming his balls.
Chuckling to myself, I forced my eyes to leave that spectacle. Although, without a doubt, it would be forever ingrained in my memory.
Feeling more comfortable with just the two of us, which was totally weird as I’d just met him, I stopped hunching my shoulders in what had been a lame attempt to minimize my bust and leaned back.
“It’s nice, huh?” When he smiled, a dimple appeared in each of his cheeks.
Holy hot cakes . Things really were heating up.
“Yes. Yes, it is. Very nice.” I inhaled the delightful scents of floral and something else—Juniper maybe, or star anise, or something just as exotic.
When Zali had suggested this spa, I’d made up every excuse why I’d never do it. Thank God for her sticking it to me—and that ticking clock—or I probably wouldn’t have.
Maybe there was something good to come from a hard deadline after all. It was forcing me to pull my finger out. And to step out of my comfort zone.
From the wet and dry saunas inside, we moved to the selection of pools and spas outside. People of all shapes and sizes were everywhere. There was no such thing as embarrassing bodies at Vabali.
I felt more at home than I did in my London flat.
It helped that not a single person seemed to notice me. Every step was utter exhilaration, and my nipples were so rigid they could have poked someone’s eyes out. It was weird though—normally that’d embarrass me. Not tonight, with me and my hot stranger taking a stroll together butt-naked . . . his cock flopping side to side like a giant sausage and my tits wobbling like fleshy airbags.
I had absolutely no idea why he’d offered to show me around. But I sure was grateful. Without him, I probably would’ve stayed in that first sauna until they’d scraped out my shriveled-up remains with a shovel.
The temperature outside seemed to have dropped a couple more degrees since I’d arrived, adding to my erect nipple status, and every breath emitted a plume of mist from my mouth. Steam from all the outdoor pools created a low cloud that hung over the ground, adding to the exotic setting.
“It’s cold out here. Come on.” Jonas sprinted ahead of me.
With my boobs doing that clap thing against my chest, I dashed after him, giggling like a silly schoolgirl. We raced along the paved path to the pool centered amongst the lush gardens.
Subtle blue lights had the water glowing like a tropical lagoon, and rising steam confirmed it would be heated. Jonas barged down the pool steps creating a wave of water. I wasn’t any more delicate, following him in until my shoulders were submerged.
The pool was built around a gazebo that was positioned in the middle and accessible only by an arched bridge that we swam beneath. Several people were resting on the deck chairs in the gazebo, and one couple, based on their open mouths and slack positions, looked to be asleep .
Candles flickered all around the bushes and subtle notes of music emanated from speakers hidden amongst the foliage.
Maybe I’d been hit by a truck on the way here, and I actually was in heaven?
For some reason, that thought didn’t bother me.
Jonas and I half swam, half walked to the opposite end. I hadn’t been swimming in a very long time—not since Zali and I were on the cruise ship. And that wasn’t really swimming—more bobbing with cocktails in our hands. But as much as that had been great, it wasn’t a patch on how good it felt to swim naked.
With my boobs pushing up into my armpits, I kicked my legs and tried not to giggle at the thought of my ass bobbing above the water. The freedom was electrifying. I felt so, so alive.
Woo hoo.
Jonas and I nestled our backs against one of the walls so our view encompassed the length of the pool. Our vantage point overlooked the sleeping couple in the gazebo, and through the vegetation I could just see the ice plunge pool. The squeals from the girls and some of the guys who jumped in then raced to get out again confirmed just how cold it was.
Jonas floated his body up to the surface and I nearly swallowed my tongue when he provided an unobstructed view of his groin. He lowered into the water but promptly did it again, bobbing up and down in the world’s best peep show. I didn’t think he was showing off. Nobody here seemed to be doing that. It was just that nudity was not taboo.
It was so different from Australia. Public nudity was reserved for only a few beaches, and just getting to them required army-like fitness.
With my heart thumping like a battle drum, I copied Jonas. Using my hands on the edge as support, I raised my body until my breasts bobbed to the surface. They came up and spread out like a couple of custard-filled balloons. The cool air teased my nipples, and they grew harder and more prominent each time I flashed my tits. It was so much fun I had to clamp my jaw so I didn’t start giggling.
Each time Jonas floated on top, giving me a world-class cock-and-balls show, I told myself to stop peeking, but they were right in front of me. Peek-a-boo.
I mean, what’s a girl to do?
He turned toward me, rolling his groin my way, and I snapped my eyes away. “How long are you staying in Berlin?”
“Oh, um, just tonight unfortunately.”
“What? One night?”
“Yeah.” As we took turns bobbing our bits to the surface, I told Jonas all about what I did for a living, how long I’d been doing it for, and finally, how long I had left in Europe.
“That sucks. So, what’re you going to do?”
I shrugged. “No idea.”
“Really? That’s so cool. You can go anywhere.”
Cool? That was a new one. “Not anywhere in Europe.”
“No, but everywhere else—Canada, Scotland, Brazil. Spin the globe. I wish I was in your shoes.”
I frowned at him. “What’s stopping you?”
He raised his hands above the water. “Everything. Nothing. No money. You know how it is.” With a splash, his arms fell back in.
I’d had dozens of people over the years say similar things. Many said they wanted to travel the world like me, but then they’d promptly declare that it would never happen. Maybe I was a little extraordinary after all. I had made it work for me.
“Okay,” I said. “If you were me, where would you go?”
Jonas’s face lit up. “South America.”
“Wow, you didn’t even have to think about it. So why don’t you go? ”
Blinking his stunning blue eyes at me, he shrugged.
I frowned at him. He was confident in so many ways, and yet he didn’t seem to have a plan for his future. Here I was thinking I was the only one with that kind of dilemma.
Maybe I didn’t need a place to call home after all. I could drift wherever the wind took me, settle in when I wanted, and keep going when I’d had enough. The world was there to be explored. I just needed the confidence to do it.
He suddenly stood, casting a surge of water at me. “Hey, Rebecca. Over here.” He waved at a woman near the steps.
She waved back. “There you are.”
Jonas was right about the Aussie accent being noticeable. Rebecca, too, was noticeable. She was short like me. She was also big-breasted like me, and Rebecca was big all over. The very definition of a plus-sized woman. Every glorious curve was on show, and she smiled like she didn’t have a care in the world.
She splashed into the pool and breast-stroked toward us, beaming with a huge grin. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”
She stood as she approached, and Jonas stepped forward. Rebecca wrapped her arms around his shoulders and they shared a kiss. This was no coworkers’ kiss that I’d ever seen before. Though if Roman wanted to give it a go, he’d get no objections from me. I glanced away, unsure what to do with myself.
When they parted, Jonas smiled at me. “I was just telling Daisy all about you. You’re both from Sydney.”
“Oh, really?” Her green eyes lit up. “Nice to meet you.” She held her hand forward.
I gripped her fingers in mine. “You too.”
“You here on holiday?”
Within seconds, the three of us struck up a conversation like long-lost friends. It seemed so normal and yet it was far from it. But they both made me feel comfortable and welcome, and soon, I forgot all about being totally naked.
“Hey, I booked in for the Schlammbad when I arrived. Are you keen?”
I had no idea what a Schlammbad was, but Rebecca’s energy was contagious. And before I knew it, I was following her abundant derriere along yet another paved walkway.
Her confidence was inspiring. I put my shoulders back and stuck my boobs out like they were lethal weapons. Damn, I felt good.
We passed a dozen spas positioned in amongst the foliage. All were full of people, laughing and smiling.
Rebecca led us back into the main building and we paused to grab our robes. They didn’t put theirs on, so I didn’t put mine on either. With our slippers on, we strolled side by side. We went past the turquoise pool—but my attention was on Jonas’s schlong, flopping about like one of those giant wacky waving inflatable tube men that car yards use.
We went up a set of large marble stairs that I hadn’t noticed when I’d first arrived, and at the top Rebecca approached a counter where two staff members were waiting. They were both fully clothed and looked about as relaxed as the lady who worked at Stinky Skunk Marijuana tea house in Amsterdam. Yet I doubted these two needed marijuana to be this stress-free. Maybe in my next career I’d be lucky enough to land a job this chilled.
Rebecca spoke to the staff in perfect German, making it impossible for me to follow the conversation, so I held back. I couldn’t help but admire her. She had to be the most confident person I’d ever met. Even Zali had her bouts of uncertainty.
A minute later, Rebecca returned to us. “It’s not ready yet, so”—her permanent grin grew even bigger— “let’s get a drink.” She toddled away and Jonas and I glanced at each other, smiled, then followed behind my new Aussie friend.
At the bar, I insisted it was my shout as a way to thank them for keeping me company. Using the gadget the receptionist had put on my wrist, I charged the drinks to my account, and the barman told us to take a seat as he’d bring our drinks over.
Sitting on our towels, we positioned ourselves at a long bench table overlooking the grounds and its abundant pools. Our drinks arrived, and as we sipped, we chatted about everything from what it was like to be an Aussie living in Germany—fucking amazing, according to Rebecca—to my job and the places I’d been to in Europe. Once I started, it surprised even me how many things I had seen.
Maybe I’ve been harsh on myself. Although I hadn’t seen as many icons as I’d wanted, I’d still visited more than most people did in their whole lifetime.
Rebecca had been so amazed by my achievements that a rare dose of pride flitted through me.
“So, you’ve only got until Christmas before you have to leave? That sucks.” Rebecca’s smile remained even when she was repeating bad news.
“Unfortunately. There is still so much I want to do.”
She clicked her fingers. “Have you tried a J?gertea?”
The excitement on her face had me cringing. “No. Do I want to?”
“Hell yes, you do. Sit right there. This one’s on me.” She trotted to the bar like she owned the place.
“I told you she was fun.” Jonas grinned and swigged his Canadian Club and dry.
“She sure is.” I returned my gaze to Rebecca. She was curvaceous and so, so sexy. Her hips and bust were in proportion, framing her distinct waist. She had one of those hourglass figures that the magazines raved about. Unlike most of my Aussie tourists, her skin was milky white. Like she’d never seen any sun in her life. Her dark hair was tied into a messy knot high on her head, adding a good three inches to her height.
Jonas and I made idle chitchat, and it was an interesting thing that I could have a conversation with a man whose cock was resting on his thigh in front of me. Then again, everything about this place was interesting. I couldn’t wait to tell Zali. Maybe I’d even tell Roman. That would shock the pants off him.
I liked that idea.
Telling him that was. Not shocking his pants off. Although . . .
Rebecca returned with three tumblers on a tray. The glasses contained a lush red liquid, and the rims were coated in what looked like brown sugar. We each took a glass, and I was surprised that the drink was warm.
“This is a traditional drink here,” she said. “It has J?germeister, mixed with red wine, plum brandy, spices, and juice.”
“Bloody hell.” I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m going to be off my face.”
“Yay.” Jonas laughed, and the three of us raised our glasses.
“I’ll drink to that,” she said.
Despite its potent ingredients, the flavors went together so well. It was delicious. Being warm made it as easy to drink as hot chocolate, and the second we finished, Jonas was ordering us another round.
By the time the staff member came to tell us our Schlammbad was ready, I’d finished my second J?gertea and felt all warm and fuzzy on the inside. I had no idea what a Schlammbad was, but the way my two new friends were grinning at me had me equally nervous and excited .
We hung our towels and robes outside a wooden door, and Rebecca handed me a bowl containing a dark paste.
“What is it?”
“Mud.” She opened the door.
“Oh, okay.” When in Germany . . .
The room was just big enough for the three of us to move around freely. The walls were all polished concrete, as were the seats that lined the edges. They set their bowls down and grabbed a hose each. I did the same.
Not wanting to look like a dork, I tried to copy everything they did. For starters, we unhooked the hoses and spent a minute or so wetting ourselves. The water was the perfect temperature—not too hot to make me sweat, and not too cold to make my nipples lethal weapons.
Rebecca squirted me.
I blinked at her and when she burst out laughing, my jaw dropped.
Right! Two could play at that game. I blasted her with my hose, and rather than turnabout, she faced me and wobbled her boobs. Pretending I was unfazed, I aimed my hose right at her nipples.
Jonas must’ve felt lonely cause he joined in. Maybe it was all that alcohol, or maybe it was my crazy new friends—probably both—but the next second, all three of us were blasting each other like a bunch of naughty schoolkids in a locker room. It was stupid and fun, and special. Straitjacket kind of special, but I didn’t care.
I was in Germany. I didn’t know anybody. And I would probably never speak to my new friends again. So, let’s do this.
Bring it on.
Rebecca and Jonas hooked up their hoses and reached for the bowls of mud. Copying them, I began pasting the mud onto myself. It was soft and smooth like a thick hand cream and felt so nice as I plastered it up my arms .
Jonas eased in behind me and began applying the mud to my back.
“Oh.”
Rebecca turned around in front of me. “Can you do my back please?”
“Oh, sure.” Damn it. My ohs have returned.
Jonas worked his magical hands over my skin, and I smoothed mud over Rebecca’s back. But when Jonas eased his rear toward Rebecca, completing our circle, my mind came to a screeching halt.
I was in a daisy chain.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Horror crawled through my brain like a dark stain. Ever since I’d learned what a daisy chain was, I’d been avoiding it like dog shit.
Jonas glided his hands on either side of my waist, and he was so soft and gentle that my crazy thoughts slammed from one opposing thought to the next.
Calm down. We are just putting mud on each other, for fuck’s sake.
I’m touching a woman, for fuck’s sake.
Oh, God.
I swear if this gets any kinkier, I’m going to run out that door and keep on going until I flop onto my bed, still covered in mud.
Daisy! Calm down. Breathe.
Next second, Rebecca turned around. Her smile was positively glowing. “Here you go.” She grabbed a blob of mud and began rubbing it onto my boobs. That damn breath trapped in my throat. I froze—literally could not move my hands, my feet. Even my jaw was wedged open.
Smiling like a sneaky assassin, Rebecca remained as calm as a therapist as she rubbed the mud over my breasts.
It’s okay. It’s just mud. Nothing sexual .
Yeah. But it was a fucking woman who was putting on the mud.
Maybe I shouldn’t have had the extra J?gertea?
It’s just a beauty treatment.
That’s right! Zali has probably done this to hundreds of boobs.
My mind was running rampant as my melons were being treated to the most sensual rubbing they’d ever had. Rebecca was as delicate as a butterfly, curling her fingers around my breasts and even lifting them one by one to cover that area beneath that never saw daylight.
“My turn.” Rebecca pulled her shoulders back and pushed her boobs at me.
“Oh.” Fucking oh . My. God. I swallowed so loud I heard it and maybe Rebecca did too, because she grabbed a blob of mud from my bowl and put it in my hand.
“Come on.”
With my heart hitting a million beats an hour, I spread mud across the top of her breasts. Her boobs were soft and squishy, just like mine. I swear I didn’t breathe again until her breasts were completely black.
“Okay, Jonas, your turn,” Rebecca said.
“’Bout time.” He stepped forward, wedging himself between the two of us, facing me. His cock was up, pointing right at me, and my eyes just about bulged out of my head.
Holyyyyyy fuck.
He sure was happy to see me.
My pussy throbbed out a heady beat.
Breathe. Just breathe.
With trembling fingers, I started at his shoulders and worked my way over his chest and down his waist. When I reached his belly button, he pulled his cock to the side.
Fuck me.
No, no. Don’t fuck me.
But faaaark .
My heart was pounding so hard it was a miracle I didn’t topple over. I smoothed the mud around his belly button and over that glorious ‘ V’ muscle that I’d never known existed until a few months ago.
Jonas propped his leg up onto the seat, and as I got close and personal with his jewels, it was impossible not to get a good look at everything Jonas had. His cock was enormous when he wasn’t excited. Now, though, it was world-record-worthy.
I rubbed mud over his muscular thighs and bending forward, I glided my muddy hands down his calf.
Next second, his hand curled over my ass. When it went between my crack, I gasped and jumped forward so fast my head hit the wall. “Owww. Bloody hell.”
“Oh, shit. Are you okay?” His hands were on my shoulders.
“Yeah. Yeah.” I rubbed the side of my head, squishing mud into my curls.
Oh, God. I am a fucking idiot. A blaze of embarrassment crawled up my neck.
My pulse pumped so fast; the room spun.
I was on the verge of crumbling into a muddy puddle when Rebecca turned to me. “What happened?” Her entire face was covered in mud.
A giggle burst from my throat.
It was exactly the distraction I needed.
She grinned, her white teeth flashing through the black mud. “What?”
Casting aside my rampant thoughts, and Jonas’s hand in my crack, and the fact that I was in a daisy chain, I let my giggles take over. “You look so funny.”
“I know.” She wiggled her body making all her glorious flesh wobble.
I stepped toward her. “Can you do my face please? ”
While Rebecca carefully applied the mud to my cheeks, nose, and chin, Jonas finished covering his other leg.
Once we were all covered, we sat on the warm concrete seats. Jonas reached up and twisted a dial near the door that I hadn’t noticed, and a gentle pine-scented mist drifted into the room adding to my already surreal experience.
Once again, our conversation flowed, and it made me realize that I truly had blown the whole thing out of proportion. Our Schlammbad moment was purely platonic. Just a couple of friends enjoying a naked mud bath together.
Damn it. Why hadn’t I reached that conclusion earlier? It would’ve made me much more relaxed.
I am so stupid sometimes. Maybe I was a prude like Jonas had said.
While the two of them discussed a work colleague who’d apparently had a total meltdown today, I dwelled on my body-image issues. I’d already worked out that Mother had started my body insecurity, convincing me that my bust made me freaky. And then William had exasperated that with his obvious distaste of my body. But being here with all these confident people, and especially Rebecca, had shown me that humans come in all shapes.
My big boobs and tiny hips made me unique, not a freak. It was exhilarating to admit that.
From now on, my body shape would not be a focal point in my life. I had much more important things to worry about. Like where I’d be living in three months’ time.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Soon the mud on our faces and bodies hardened and we couldn’t speak without our faces cracking. Giggling only made it worse.
Together we hosed off the mud, taking turns washing each other’s backs. After stepping from the mudroom, we went into individual showers. I used the supplied coconut- scented shampoo and conditioner to wash my hair, and the alpine-scented soap to make sure I’d removed all the mud from my crack.
By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, I felt like a new woman. I was clean, refreshed, and relaxed, and after spending a few hours with Rebecca—a young woman who broke every mold those rotten magazines bestowed upon women—I could honestly say I was much more confident in myself. Rebecca would forever be in my memory as the most self-assured, inspiring woman I’d ever met.
Jonas too would forever be remembered as the man who’d chosen me to spend an evening with him at the nudist spa.
I was the luckiest woman in the world.
This would be a good benchmark for me. I’d just done something that took me way out of my comfort zone and I’d loved it. I’d instigated it on my own too. Making friends with complete strangers was something I rarely did, and I’d had an amazing time that I could admit was totally titillating, but it hadn’t involved sex.
I didn’t need sex to have fun. Or a man. Or even friends. I could find my own company and make new friends whenever and wherever I wanted. A couple of complete strangers, who I’d met in a strange place, had made me feel . . . interesting.
Now that was a revelation I hadn’t seen coming.
We said goodbye at the front reception with a hug and kiss on each cheek. I just about burst with excitement when they asked me to do it all again when I returned next month. After we exchanged phone numbers, I felt an instant pang of loss as they walked along that bamboo-lined path toward the exit.
When I’d first met Rebecca and the two of them had shared that kiss, I’d thought they were a couple—or at least she’d wanted them to be. But as the night had rolled on, I’d revised that assessment. They were just really good friends. They were funny together and laughed with and at each other. Their incredible friendship allowed them to step out of their comfort zones. It wasn’t hard to be jealous of what they had.
It was the kind of relationship I’d like to have one day.
Oh my god.
I already have that.
With Roman.