Standard disclaimer: The following post contains
blatant
sexual content that some readers might find offensive. The characters and events described are all a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons or places, real or fake, are merely a coincidence. Except for Santa. He's real and depicted with his consent!
Reader discretion is advised.
Author's Note: The story has changed from my original draft. A lot of what happens in this chapter is meant to come later. That said, I tend to listen to--and am influenced by--my readers. I hope everyone likes the altered direction. I know I do!
Finally, this will
not
be the last part of the story of the Accidental Nudists. However, I need
your
comments to drive the story forward. The more you say, the easier it will be to write.
The Accidental Nudists - Part 3: The Friends of the Mountain
Monday morning had a difficult start. I awoke to a cabin full of dull, gray light, having only gotten a few hours of sleep. I felt disoriented, and I could hear the quiet tinkling sound of rain hitting the steel roofing above. Obviously, it was raining, but it wasn't a hard rain. Like the sky wasn't sure if it wanted to release it's moisture.
When I opened my eyes, my mother's face was the first image I saw in the dim light. She looked so peaceful and warm, snuggled up under the comforter.
I lay in bed, beside her for some time, examining her features. Her golden skin, glowed, even in the grim, overcast light. Her hair was still fresh and soft from our shower. And I could smell the faint remnant odor of the lotion she wore.
My body ached to reach for her. To take her in my arms...to kiss her deeply...to caress her skin...to taste her...and then...what? I had no real plan in mind. Only fantasy and desire.
Her words still lingered in the forefront of my mind, "What if we had sex?" She said it was only an example, but then her final words of the night were, "It's not
not
an offer." Was she serious? Or was it only words from a barely conscious mind? Sleep talking?
Then there was the shower. Mom watched me masturbate. Surely that was proof of her willingness. What woman, encourages such behavior if she's not interested. Then again, we were at a nudist resort, and I was walking around with a massive erection for almost twenty-four hours! If the ads have taught us nothing, that's not safe, so maybe she was only looking out for my health and safety!
As I lay there thinking about the situation, debating the factuality of my own mother's interest in me, there was a sharp knock on the cabin door.
For a split second, I was shocked by the sound. Who would be out in the rain? Who could possibly be looking for our attention? Hell, who even knew what cabin we were in?
In a flash, I was up and rushing to the door, hoping to keep them from waking my mother!
Quietly pulling the heavy door open, I was met with the shadow of a large man. He was wearing a transparent raincoat (and nothing else) while presenting a covered basket.
To nobody's surprise, I'm sure, it was the naked Santa, and he came bearing gifts!
"Good morning, James!" he warmly greeted as he pushed the basked toward me, "The little lady and I packed you a basket for the day," he gently explained as I accepted the gift, "the weather service is being a little too vague about how long this weather will last. That means no barbecue today. The boys are manning the indoor grills in the lodge if you get really hungry, but we wanted to make sure everyone got something to eat in case they don't want to get all cold and wet."
"Uh... Thank you," I replied, almost forgetting my manners.
"Speakin' of cold and wet," he quickly resumed, "most of the grounds are miserable, so we decided to open up the hot springs to a few special guests."
"Hot springs?" I interrupted. Thinking back on the brochure, I didn't remember seeing anything about hot springs. I wondered if the author's lazy writing had opened a gaping plot hole!
"Yeah," Chris sheepishly replied. "We don't advertise some areas of the lodge. The hot-springs are reserved for private parties during the summer so we normally wouldn't allow general visitor access without an invitation."
"I see," I replied, with mild interest.
"I'm supposed to warn you, it's not part of the public areas," he quickly continued, "most of the rules of the resort are relaxed."
"How so?" I curiously asked.
"Well, you see, James," he began, lowering his voice, "The hot-springs are reserved for certain guests with certain
sexual
preferences."
Chris paused and searched my face for a hint of understanding. While it was an interesting description, it wasn't exactly a complete one, and I was only able to reply with a blank expression.
"Swingers, James." he bluntly added, "the hot springs are reserved, in the summer, for swingers. There are no rules about sex or masturbation at the hot springs, so there tends to be a lot of sex and masturbation, in the hot springs."
Once again, I remained expressionless, but this time it was for another reason!
"If you're interested in that sort of thing," he continued, hopeful for some spark of understanding, "it's basically an orgy...and we only ask everyone to be mindful of the group's rules, and of course avoid making
unnecessary
messes. The boys don't mind a little semen puddle here and there, but defecation is
not
allowed!"
I slowly began nodding in recognition, but I knew I was turning red. As time went on, this vacation was turning into one long string of events I not only can never talk about in mixed company, but I will certainly remember until my deathbed!
"So where, exactly, do we find the hot springs?" I asked, unashamedly showing my priorities!
"Behind the lodge!" He cheerfully replied with a wink, while pointing toward the north-west corner of the lodge. "Maybe the missus and I will see you there?" he added with a bright smile, before concluding, "Then again, there's nothing like a long day of quiet lovemaking, in a warm, dry cabin, on a rainy day like this."
There was a brief pause as, once again, he searched my face for recognition. Then, before I could say another word, the naked Santa gave me one of his twinkly winks, sharply turned back, and strolled away, back down the hill.
With that, I closed the door and headed to the kitchenette to unpack the basket.
Rummaging through the basket, there was a lot of food. Far more than one would expect in such a cramped basket! There were several muffins of assorted kinds. Beneath the muffins, I found grapes, two small loaves of bread, a wrapped slab of sliced meats, two tomatoes, small jars of mayonnaise, mustard, and pickles, and a large, capped carafe of orange juice.
Finishing up, I stowed the basket on top of the fridge, just as I heard a soft chuffing sound from across the room. I looked up to see Mom sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked like she was still half asleep, and was slowly swaying while staring into the void.
"Good morning, sleepy head." I gently teased, "Did you have a rough night?"
"*Ugh*," she softly grumbled back, incoherently.
After a few sloppy starts, she finally pulled herself up and stumbled into the bathroom where she plopped down on the toilet.
Before I even looked up, I could hear the familiar hiss of a woman urinating and I marveled at how comfortable we'd become in only two days.
"
Shit
," Mom grumbled, half to herself, "I drank too much water yesterday." She sleepily complained, "I was up all night peeing!"
Mom sat on the toilet, in a daze, while I began putting the contents of the basket in the fridge.
"Look on the bright side," I commented, "you know your kidneys work!"
Finishing up, I tossed the basket on the counter next to the fridge and headed over to the sitting area to relax, while I waited for Mom.
It took her a minute to finish staring into the void.
"Chris brought us a basket," I informed her, as she began stumbling out of the bathroom, "there's fruit, muffins, and orange juice if you're interested, and I think I can make some toast."
Hearing the words "orange" and "juice" in one sentence got Mom's attention, and she immediately veered off toward the fridge to pour herself a glass.
Sitting on the couch and laying back, I gazed up at my mother, drinking in her features. She seemed to have finally woken up, and she was absolutely glowing,
