Dare a Little

I was sitting in the showers at the local spa resort, naked. Somehow my wife had convinced me to attend a special event at the spa: a nude pool party. That is, the men had to be naked, not the women. They were supposed to be wearing normal swimwear. “Dare a little, you have nothing to be ashamed of,” she had told me.

We had been skinny-dipping in our backyard pool a couple of times. In private. When the kids were away. I did like it, but not like this. In public.

“I was wondering where you were,” I recognized my wife Sarah’s voice and looked at her, surprised. She was wearing a quite conservative black one-piece bathing suit. Not revealing much, not like I was expected to do. “But…,” I stammered.

“Relax,” she said. “Women are allowed in the men’s changing room today. It is part of the theme. Come out and join the rest of us.”

Reluctantly, I followed her into the pool area, trying to cover myself as well as possible without a towel. “Here, enter the pool. That will give you some cover. I’ll go get something to drink. Beers?” she said.

I entered the pool, trying to relax. There were more people than I expected, at least forty, equally men and women. Hopefully no one we knew. The ages seemed quite diverse, from twenty-five to mid-fifties; at least I felt quite in the middle of the group. Sarah brought the beers to a double sun chair. “Come join me. No one is watching.”

I looked around. People actually seemed unfazed about nudity, at least not staring. So I decided to join Sarah, trying not to go out of my way to cover up. Just act normally. Easier said than done, though.

2

“Welcome to our special pool party,” I heard a voice announcing from the small stage in the middle of the lounge area. I recognized Cathy, one of the young regular spa crew at the resort. Usually she would wear the resort spa uniform consisting of a bordeaux one-piece with black shorts, but today she wore a bikini, decent but still revealing, as if to say that this was not a regular event.

“I am happy to see some new couples today. Be nice and take care of them. We would like them to return. And now for what you have been waiting for… the Swap!”

I looked curiously at my wife. She leaned closer and whispered to me, “I should probably tell you that this isn’t just a themed night. I’ve read about it. People come here because it lets them try something new without promises or expectations. I like the idea of you being seen, but even better I like the idea of watching you decide what you want to do.”

Cathy continued, “I remind you that it is all voluntary. You don’t have to join. As always, we start by sending the men to their rooms. Afterwards, the wives can decide to join their husband or enter the Draw. Remember bathrobes, no nudity in the common areas. Only in our reserved areas! First participant is… my boyfriend!”

Sarah took a sip of her beer, calm as ever. “Nothing happens unless you want it to. But I need you to know this part isn’t a surprise to me,” she whispered. “I didn’t want us to overthink it. I’m in with what you decide. No pressure.”, she squeezed my hand. “Your move.”

Cathy’s boyfriend joined her on the stage and made a quick turn-around. Someone made a wolf howl. He was handed a gift bag and a keycard, took a bathrobe, and went away. A few more men followed, same story.

Sarah nudged me. “Go up, dare a little,” she said. I looked at her, confused, and she continued, “Maybe I join you.” I stood up, froze a bit, and approached Cathy. “…or maybe I don’t,” Sarah added.

Cathy seemed to recognize me. “Glad to see you joined us,” she said to me and then announced to the crowd, “and we have a new one!” I received my gift bag and looked in it. A couple of condoms, a small tube, a set of handcuffs, and what appeared to be a blindfold. The message was clear; no subtlety in what was to be expected.

I caught Sarah’s eyes from afar. Somehow this was the point of no return. She made a slight nod, it was my decision.

3

I entered my assigned room. What could I do? Panic, flee, or just wait and go with the flow? I made sure the bathrobe was tight and lay on the bed. Who would join me? Sarah or someone else? I closed my eyes.

The door opened and closed. “Hello, stranger.” That was clearly not Sarah’s voice.

The woman joined me on the bed, still wearing her bathrobe, and looked at me. “You are one of the new ones. We don’t have to do anything if you are not ready. We can also just lie and cuddle,” she said, but her hand was untying my belt and she reached under my robe. She fondled me for a while, and my robe ended up completely open.

She sat up and discarded her own robe, exposing a flower-patterned one-piece swimsuit. “You can touch as well if you like.”

I reached out for her breasts and started fondling them. Slowly, we rolled down her bathing suit, revealing two large breasts. She grabbed my hand, moving it down in front of her bathing suit to her covered vulva. Then she stopped. “Wait… there is no way to do this sexy and elegant.”

She rolled to her back, thrust her hips up, and peeled the suit off. It caught briefly at her ankle before she flung it aside. “Graceful, I know,” she said with a snort, settling onto her knees. “But now we’re more even.”

I took her body in. She looked in her mid-forties, a surgical scar across her tummy, and a thick triangle of red hair between her legs. Her breasts were larger, heavier than Sarah’s. Touching her was a thrilling discovery, a landscape unknown, where every curve and contour of Sarah’s form was a map I knew by heart.

Slowly, she leaned down, her lips finding me. Suddenly, without warning, she swung a leg over my head, ending up pressing herself against my mouth. The intimate scent of her filled my senses. There was no asking, no hesitation, just the clear, wet pressure of her, and my own hungry response. Only one thing I could do… and I let instinct take over.

4

We lay on the bed in the afterglow. “We should clean up and get back,” she said, already rising. We showered quickly—a practical, quiet routine—and pulled on the robes. I noticed she didn’t put her bathing suit back on.

“Shouldn’t women be dressed at the pool?” I asked.

“Officially, before the swap,” she said, tying her robe. “Afterwards, most do. But I prefer it like this.” She shrugged, a small, unbothered gesture. “Let’s go.”

We found our way to the pool area, discarded our robes, and lay on a sun chair. “My husband is very attentive, but afterwards he tends to fall asleep for ten minutes. So we will have some time before he comes back,” she said, cuddling up beside me. I put a hand on her inner thigh, and she held my cock in her hand.

“There you are. Had any fun?” I heard Sarah’s voice. I looked up; she was standing, smiling, still wearing her black bathing suit. Or rather, wearing it again, I corrected myself. The realization that Sarah had her own story to tell sent a warm, curious thrill through me.

Before I could answer, Sarah’s eyes drifted to where the stranger’s hand still rested on me. A slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. “I see you did,” she said, her voice low.

The stranger gave a soft chuckle and gently withdrew. “He’s all yours,” she said, slipping away with a wink.

Sarah sat on the edge of my sun chair. “You survived,” she teased, her eyes searching mine.

“More than survived,” I said, “and I’ve decided for next time,” my voice steady.

“Decided what?” She looked back at me curiously.

“Yeah, I want you to be one naked beside me next time. Not just part of the crowd. Naked, up in front of everyone.”

Sarah’s eyebrows raised, not in shock, but in clear, pleased surprise. “Well,” she murmured, her thumb stroking my skin. “Look at you, full of daring ideas now.” She leaned down and kissed me, a brief but searing promise. “I think I like it.”