Back in my twenties, I’d been selected by an older woman, Evelyn, out of the half dozen young guys clustered around her in the pool at the club. The three young women at the other end of the pool, visibly pissed at being abandoned by their admirers, were understandably baffled at how a plump, grandmotherly, wrinkly “old lady“ (in her late 50’s) had managed put them in the shade.
Ev was like that… sweet, kind, and warm, she made you feel like a better, sexier version of yourself. She probably felt bad for the girls, so completely outclassed… an extra 35 years of experience teaches you a few thing about men, I guess.
Anyhow, after that weekend together, we stayed in touch, even though she lived two states away and had sons my age. She visited often, and her best local friend, at Ev’s recommendation, asked me into her bed… it was that kind of social circle I ran in at the time.
A couple years later, heading down to LA for a trade show that would leave me four days free between setup and takedown, I gave Ev a call, and she invited me to stay with her, and loaned me her spare car. One afternoon, she took me to Elysium Fields as her guest… and that’s where my story really starts.
Ev and I, and a half dozen other members/guests were soaking in the huge (more than 30 feet from end to end) cement hot tub, relaxing on the built in shelves. Jacuzzi jets were spaced around the interior, and I was enjoying the pulsating force of one on my lower back, when another woman climbed in across from Ev and I.
Probably in her mid thirties, dark haired, attractive and slim, clad in a fairly conservative navy bikini, she pointedly didn’t meet anyone’s eyes as she settled herself over the jet on her side, no more than six feet from me, and proceeded to have what was evidently a string of water jet induced orgasms, silently witnessed by a score of (I presume) strangers.
She started out staring into the distance over my head, but as I saw her nipples go erect (highly evident through her wet bikini top) she closed her eyes, rolled her hips, bit her lower lip, and shuddered for a few seconds. She gasped a quiet breath, and did the same again… positioned herself just right, bit her lip, tensed, held her breath… and shivered through another silent orgasm.. Then she did it again… and again… and again…
By this time I had torn my eyes away long enough to glance at the rest of the audience; everyone seemed as surprised as I was, though some seemed discomfited. I was just enthralled… I raised an eyebrow in question at Ev (speaking seemed inappropriate somehow, all conversation had come to a halt) she just shrugged.
If this had been one of the swingers clubs I visited in my home town, I would have offered my assistance, but this was a “clothing optional self actualization retreat”, and the rules about open sexuality were quite different… this sort of display would have got a man tossed out. No one seemed to feel that was the proper course of action in this case.
After about fifteen minutes, the lady in blue moved off the jet, breathed deeply for a few moments, eyes still closed… then opened her eyes, stood (still looking past us all) climbed out, and walked away.
If memory serves, there was a hint of unsteadiness in her stride. Not surprising, is it? If I spent a quarter hour in a state of nearly constant orgasm, I doubt I’d even be able to stand up, much less walk.