Sasha was a week back from the women's retreat, and her body still tingled remembering the night in the hot tub with Sapphire and the anonymous couple watching them from a few feet away. She felt warm and satisfied with the memory, and comfortable the following day in the circle of women and exchanging a brief smile of mutual recognition with Sapphire, peacefully acknowledging their moments together but not feeling attached nor regretful nor yearning for more. It just was, and that was enough.
Back at her home on the Cape, in the humid, sweltering afternoon she bicycled down to Longnook Beach, descended the tall dune there with her bag and folding chair and umbrella, and walked south a couple hundred yards until she arrived at the nude section of the beach. There were mostly men there, single and in small gay groups, and a scattering of couples. She found a spot that felt far enough away from other people, set up her umbrella and chair and beach towel, and pulled her David Bowie t-shirt over her head. No bra -- it was too hot. She wiggled out of her light-weight jeans and thong, and picked up her sunscreen. As she rubbed it over her breasts and belly, two men walked by, completely tan, their swinging cocks hanging heavily brown, and gave her appreciating smiles.
"My honey, you look good," one said in a singsong voice. He held the other man's hand.
"Thanks," she called out. "But my upper arms have that thing starting up!" and she pinched a bit of flesh between her elbow and armpit, grinning. She squirted lotion on her legs and shoulders and ass, and rubbed it in, and laid her towel over her beach chair and then she sat down and put on her wide round straw hat and classic Ray-Bans, and picked up her book -- one of the books from the workshop's reading list. She was eating it up, highlighting almost ever section.
Every so often, she looked up at the gentle swell of the waves, dark blue and pulsing, as sweat ran in rivulets between her breasts and over her belly button and between her legs. She put her book down and walked down to the ocean, imagining Portugal in the distance, far beyond she could see. The water was frigid, as usual, and she walked in up to her waist, goose bumps on her legs, and then took a deep breath and dropped to her knees in the water, dunking completely, her hat floating on the water. She held her sunglasses in place, and then stood right up, streaming. She put her hat back on and noticed how the cold had made her nipples stand up hard, and she was pleased as she walked back to her chair, and picked up her Ogden book again, let her legs fall loosely apart, and flipped through the sections she had highlighted:
"I believe it is supremely important that we have images and role models for 'yes' as well as for 'no.' This book is centered around a variety of women who have found unique ways to feel the full spectrum of their sexual experience—body, mind, heart, and soul."
"... the double standard that says it's OK for men to love sex, but not OK for women."
"The problem is that much of what passes for fascinating sex is actually disconnected sex—physical sensation that is quite removed from our emotional and spiritual lives, and also from our partners. Or it is severely constricted by societal convention rather than our own inner guidance. Healthy sexuality is not a diversion, it is part of the whole story, integral to the quality of life, adding dimension and purpose."
"... we can all move toward defining sex for ourselves and creating a world in which women—and men—can safely choose to love sex. The kind of sex that nourishes and delights us and expands our spirits".
