So my good friend invites me out to his gym last weekend. He just so happens to work for Microsoft. So I could go into the details of the whole schematics of how the day began and the three cardio rooms dimly lit with recessed lighting. I could ramble on about the grandiose architecture and the family aquatic center, but I'd rather cut straight to the women's locker room if you don't mind...
So there I was all cold and wet and dripping from lapping about after my hard boiled cardio workout. My music separating me from the people bustling about the compound. First of all my friend is male and could not help me navigate through the extravagant labyrinth of lounges and vanities in search of the women's sauna/Jacuzzi Spa room. I don't recall what the actual title of this area was,but I digress.
At first I was feeling a little intimidated by the lavish atmosphere of every section I visited, but then suddenly I was commingling with a myriad of half naked, steaming female bodies. Some dressed and fresh from the fight in cardio kick class, some just in panties toweling their hair frantically all pink and white and tantalizing. There were women wearing towels kept together by a tidy little fold about their breasts just bubbling up and boiling over with only a hair clip separating me from that heaven.
Now here's what happens to me in such situations. Inside I feel like a total pervert. I feel like a spy who's been batting for the other team the whole time while pretending to be a comrade. I darted for the Jacuzzi room and was taken aback by the sheer elegance and comfort I walked into. Laid out before me was this sunlit room with classical music and lounge chairs with naked women lounging on them. I would not have been surprised if at any minute cherub's were to enter the room swooping and diving with ribbons of pink silk preparing for Aphrodite's entrance via clam shell ascension from the whirlpools. To my right was a wall of saunas where this lady and what I assume was her daughter (maybe 16) in their towels punching codes or whatever into the control pad on the outside of the entrance. It was impossible not to feel like a complete perv then. This girl was hardly wearing the towel! YIKES! No thanks. I don't need to see that.
The sun lounge then led me to Three giant (when I say giant I mean at least ten people VERY comfortably) hot tubs tiled in white separated from the sun room by a large set of fancy tile steps. As I broached this area avoiding eye contact with a gorgeous naked Asian woman I noticed a grey sign set on a brass pole like you would see at the movie theater. This sign listed the spa house rules, like how you must shower with soap before entering the hot tubs and how women under the age of 17 were NOT allowed into the whirlpools without swimsuits as it is state law.
So moseyed on down to the shower and got all squeaky and shiny and headed for the Jacuzzis. I was concerned for a moment about being naked in front of all these pretentious betties, but then I decided they where just as curious about what I had going on under my towel as I was. So I just set my suit on the bench, dropped the towel, inhaled a deep, relaxing breath and headed for the only unoccupied whirlpool of the three.
It was heavenly. No one dared get in with the violet haired, tattooed girl. I floated around like I was a fucking princess. My pink and violet locks swirled about my head like Medusa's snakes. The bubbles where the only thing separating my nudity from theirs. I let the jets pound out my muscle aches and pains from working like a man all week and stared at my toes wiggling against the muted sage mint colored water. I hung out till the jets stopped and I could figure out where the damn controls were. It really was special I say.
If I am a woman in this life as a lesson for being a womanizer in my past life, then I laugh in the face of fate. I am now in on the secret lair of the woman and I'm never leaving.
So there I was all cold and wet and dripping from lapping about after my hard boiled cardio workout. My music separating me from the people bustling about the compound. First of all my friend is male and could not help me navigate through the extravagant labyrinth of lounges and vanities in search of the women's sauna/Jacuzzi Spa room. I don't recall what the actual title of this area was,but I digress.
At first I was feeling a little intimidated by the lavish atmosphere of every section I visited, but then suddenly I was commingling with a myriad of half naked, steaming female bodies. Some dressed and fresh from the fight in cardio kick class, some just in panties toweling their hair frantically all pink and white and tantalizing. There were women wearing towels kept together by a tidy little fold about their breasts just bubbling up and boiling over with only a hair clip separating me from that heaven.
Now here's what happens to me in such situations. Inside I feel like a total pervert. I feel like a spy who's been batting for the other team the whole time while pretending to be a comrade. I darted for the Jacuzzi room and was taken aback by the sheer elegance and comfort I walked into. Laid out before me was this sunlit room with classical music and lounge chairs with naked women lounging on them. I would not have been surprised if at any minute cherub's were to enter the room swooping and diving with ribbons of pink silk preparing for Aphrodite's entrance via clam shell ascension from the whirlpools. To my right was a wall of saunas where this lady and what I assume was her daughter (maybe 16) in their towels punching codes or whatever into the control pad on the outside of the entrance. It was impossible not to feel like a complete perv then. This girl was hardly wearing the towel! YIKES! No thanks. I don't need to see that.
The sun lounge then led me to Three giant (when I say giant I mean at least ten people VERY comfortably) hot tubs tiled in white separated from the sun room by a large set of fancy tile steps. As I broached this area avoiding eye contact with a gorgeous naked Asian woman I noticed a grey sign set on a brass pole like you would see at the movie theater. This sign listed the spa house rules, like how you must shower with soap before entering the hot tubs and how women under the age of 17 were NOT allowed into the whirlpools without swimsuits as it is state law.
So moseyed on down to the shower and got all squeaky and shiny and headed for the Jacuzzis. I was concerned for a moment about being naked in front of all these pretentious betties, but then I decided they where just as curious about what I had going on under my towel as I was. So I just set my suit on the bench, dropped the towel, inhaled a deep, relaxing breath and headed for the only unoccupied whirlpool of the three.
It was heavenly. No one dared get in with the violet haired, tattooed girl. I floated around like I was a fucking princess. My pink and violet locks swirled about my head like Medusa's snakes. The bubbles where the only thing separating my nudity from theirs. I let the jets pound out my muscle aches and pains from working like a man all week and stared at my toes wiggling against the muted sage mint colored water. I hung out till the jets stopped and I could figure out where the damn controls were. It really was special I say.
If I am a woman in this life as a lesson for being a womanizer in my past life, then I laugh in the face of fate. I am now in on the secret lair of the woman and I'm never leaving.
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