Everybody Dance Now
Wow, was I glad I brought the suitcase! Turns out that naked weekend in the fall is more like barely-dressed-in-vampy-clothes weekend. It was a little chilly in the mornings, so most people wore robes to the pool. It did become crystal clear to me why aquatic pursuits are the key activities at a naked place – buoyancy. At 4:30 on Saturday afternoon, when you scanned the pool, it was a sea of floating orbs just at the water line.
My big fun was that I discovered my inner-stripper. Not that I pole danced, although one was available. There is no way I have the upper body strength to do some of those upside tricks I saw women do at the strip club. But, I did dance in a cage with another woman while being serenaded. Funny thing, that did not feel very take-it-off. More Laugh-In. Maybe it was because I was wearing cowgirl boots and a short dress. I kept picturing Goldie Hawn in all her go-go glory. I did not take any clothes off while dancing, so it was not really stripping. But, I did perfect a sexy hip roll which I had been practicing in my den with my ipod on when I could not sleep at 3 in the morning for years. So for the first time ever – this move was unveiled in public, and performed very close to another person (only my spouse). He was impressed. Very impressed. And I was, too. Often in the den, this move is partnered with tripping, and there was none of that. He wants to make sure we find opportunities to dance again soon. Or he says he does. I often suggest dancing as a date night activity, only to get trumped by a good dinner. Now that the stripper moves are in the mix, maybe it shall become a reality. We will have to choose our venues with some care. These R-rated maneuvers should stay in the bag at G-rated weddings.
I also discovered that sex in public for me loses some of its charm if it is expected. Part of the fun of a car in a dark parking lot is that you might be caught. If you walk in the door at a room filled with beds where people are already rolling around in different combinations and permutations, getting caught is not a problem. Carving out a space where there is no accidental butt-bumping was top on the list of my priorities.
We were pretty tentative opening the door to this love shack. When my eyes adjusted to the dim “mood” lighting, I saw 3 couches and 4 beds, with people writhing about on most surfaces. It was very quiet. Like, eerily quiet. I appreciate that my only observations of sex are my own and a few porn flicks, but when 7 couples are having sex, I expect some noise. Not bring-down-the-house-rafter noise, but moans or something. And occasional loud outbursts would not have surprised me. I guess this was an etiquette thing in the sex room, so that you did not disturb others. Or, everybody in the room totally sucked at getting their partners off. Can’t you just see the Saturday Night Live skit – a couple stumbles into a swingers group where everyone is dreadful at the mechanics. Rocky Horror Picture show with the un-adept.
Our sex was fun, but odd. Imagine a movie theater where you are afraid to even whisper, “Pass the popcorn, please,” for fear of disturbing others. Now, imagine that you are dreaming of position #127b in the playbook, while your true love is focused on #17. No speech allowed, apparently. And not much room to maneuver without bumping into others. We had no idea we needed to devise some kind of touch code “4 taps means my turn on top.” “No, that was not taps, my hand was asleep.” It was a bit of a challenge to get in the zone with that many silent distractions all around.
Over-all report: dancing – fabulous, over the moon fun; sex – better at a hotel. A really nice hotel. With fabulous sheets and blackout curtains. I think I see our next get-away weekend taking shape.
My big fun was that I discovered my inner-stripper. Not that I pole danced, although one was available. There is no way I have the upper body strength to do some of those upside tricks I saw women do at the strip club. But, I did dance in a cage with another woman while being serenaded. Funny thing, that did not feel very take-it-off. More Laugh-In. Maybe it was because I was wearing cowgirl boots and a short dress. I kept picturing Goldie Hawn in all her go-go glory. I did not take any clothes off while dancing, so it was not really stripping. But, I did perfect a sexy hip roll which I had been practicing in my den with my ipod on when I could not sleep at 3 in the morning for years. So for the first time ever – this move was unveiled in public, and performed very close to another person (only my spouse). He was impressed. Very impressed. And I was, too. Often in the den, this move is partnered with tripping, and there was none of that. He wants to make sure we find opportunities to dance again soon. Or he says he does. I often suggest dancing as a date night activity, only to get trumped by a good dinner. Now that the stripper moves are in the mix, maybe it shall become a reality. We will have to choose our venues with some care. These R-rated maneuvers should stay in the bag at G-rated weddings.
I also discovered that sex in public for me loses some of its charm if it is expected. Part of the fun of a car in a dark parking lot is that you might be caught. If you walk in the door at a room filled with beds where people are already rolling around in different combinations and permutations, getting caught is not a problem. Carving out a space where there is no accidental butt-bumping was top on the list of my priorities.
We were pretty tentative opening the door to this love shack. When my eyes adjusted to the dim “mood” lighting, I saw 3 couches and 4 beds, with people writhing about on most surfaces. It was very quiet. Like, eerily quiet. I appreciate that my only observations of sex are my own and a few porn flicks, but when 7 couples are having sex, I expect some noise. Not bring-down-the-house-rafter noise, but moans or something. And occasional loud outbursts would not have surprised me. I guess this was an etiquette thing in the sex room, so that you did not disturb others. Or, everybody in the room totally sucked at getting their partners off. Can’t you just see the Saturday Night Live skit – a couple stumbles into a swingers group where everyone is dreadful at the mechanics. Rocky Horror Picture show with the un-adept.
Our sex was fun, but odd. Imagine a movie theater where you are afraid to even whisper, “Pass the popcorn, please,” for fear of disturbing others. Now, imagine that you are dreaming of position #127b in the playbook, while your true love is focused on #17. No speech allowed, apparently. And not much room to maneuver without bumping into others. We had no idea we needed to devise some kind of touch code “4 taps means my turn on top.” “No, that was not taps, my hand was asleep.” It was a bit of a challenge to get in the zone with that many silent distractions all around.
Over-all report: dancing – fabulous, over the moon fun; sex – better at a hotel. A really nice hotel. With fabulous sheets and blackout curtains. I think I see our next get-away weekend taking shape.
Prom Queen
2 Comments
Reader Comments (2)
Well........thank you for deflating all my orgy fantasies!
Honestly, how did you and hubby refrain from giggling, or at least offering whispered critiques and advice, amidst all that silent flesh? "Psstt! I think she wants you to aim a little to the left. No, her left, not yours! Do i need to draw it for you?"
Awww.......Tom, don't let me stop you! After all, your mileage may vary. I am sure it would be different if one were going for the "everybody dance" room of the love shack. I feel sure there were spaces which were more interactive. But we had enough during our time in Oz, so we did not continue to explore. However, I do love the idea of a Tim Russert-style white board to illustrate helpful hints.