Butterfly Spa

The contents of this story are the sole possession of the author and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form without the written or electronic permission of the author. The story contains graphical descriptions of sex between consenting adults of the same sex. Please check with local laws before reading this story because it is not permitted to read this story in communities where such activities are prohibited by law. It is also prohibited for minors to read this story . (Alicia_boston)

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We had met by chance at a professional seminar. Ellen was the only other female in attendance at the seminar entitled “Correctly Analyzing Steel Futures: Evaluating the Impact of Weather on Far East Production”. Ho hum. Being the only two females of the 30 or so other attendees we smiled at each other from afar and found ourselves seated next to each other for much of the conference.

Ellen Morneau was her name, and like myself, she worked for a securities investment house, she in NYC, and I, in Boston. She was petite, maybe 5’2”, with short neat black hair, and skin pale as alabaster, which set off her startling dark brown eyes in contrast. She dressed well, a white silk blouse under a Jones New York black business suit, nails: perfect. Married for 6 years, she was 32, no children, and living in New Jersey.

We had a delightful two days together and I felt drawn to her, or maybe even stronger than that. I felt destined to be her friend. We had a lot in common, even beyond our similar careers. We found that we both liked to run, and swim, and preferred reading a good book over watching the latest sitcom.

Ellen spoke with fondness of her grandparents cabin on a secluded lake in West Virginia where she would spend her summer months basking in the quietude of sultry summer nights and of memories of sitting on the dock with her foot in the cooling water. I spoke of the quiet cold of the winter nights I spent at my parents ski lodge in Maine as a child. The bitter cold night air would close in around you making the fire in the fireplace the only source of warmth and light.

“Debbie, that sounds fantastic, although I’ll take my Virginia warm nights over your Maine freeze-your-ass-off nights any day.” We both laughed.

“You know Ellen, as I get older I dislike the cold more and more. Plus, I love to be outdoors running or swimming. I don’t get up to Maine much anymore, plus with work and all, and Dan would like to start a family in the next year or two. Although, men make it sound like they are building a new shed when they talk about starting a family. They have no appreciation of what it is like for a woman to commit to that.”

“I know what you mean. John and I just have too much going on in our careers to stop and take the break to commit to raising a family. Someday, just not now.”

After spending two days together with Ellen I had to admit something to myself. I was sexually attracted to her. I’m no prude, and Dan, my husband, and I have a healthy and happy sex life. I wasn’t concerned about my feelings, I felt that really they were just a healthy, natural feeling of attraction to someone you wanted to bond with. The feelings were the desire for the intimacy of friendship to be extended beyond that, to the more physical intimacy of sexual desire. I thought about what it would like to be with a woman, and more particularly Ellen, sexually, and thought that under the right circumstances, I would probably find it pretty fulfilling. But like my girlhood crushes on Tom Cruise, this fantasy was safe, because the circumstances would never present themselves. Or so I thought.

When the conference ended we exchanged emails, and hugs, and promised to stay in touch. From the feeling of an extra touch of pressure on the back when we hugged, I knew that she meant to stay in touch, and, in fact, we did.

Over the next 6 months we exchanged emails and chatted on Messenger online occasionally. Two or three times we spoke on the phone. The conversations were pleasant, delightful actually. I found myself missing her company, and I sensed she felt the same way. The bond we created at the conference remained and grew over the subsequent months and I soon found myself sending her small gifts, butterflies actually. She had remarked on a beautiful butterfly at the conference, and from that time forward whenever I was passing through the gift shops at whichever airport I had been flying through, I looked for anything with butterflies on it. Sometimes it was just a refrigerator magnet, other times a pen, but always a butterfly. Ellen was always delighted to receive them, and I would get an immediate email letting me know how much she enjoyed the gift.

And so 6 months became 8 months then 10 and our friendship grew. The sloe-eyed beauty had become my best friend. I told her everything, and shared my dreams, pain, and joy with her over those few months.

In early August, Ellen called me very excited to speak with me. “Deb, c’mon, my grandparents cabin by the lake, the one I told you about, is free next weekend. Let’s hang out together and have a girls weekend, it’s so quiet and secluded.” My heart jumped. A weekend with Ellen sounded wonderful.

“God Ellen, that sounds fantastic, just us, sort of like a spa weekend for two.”

“So can you come?” she was almost pleading.

“I’m in. Let’s call it the Butterfly Spa Weekend. Wine allowed of course.” I laughed.

“Oh yes,,,by the vat. I’m so glad you said yes. I really want to see you again.” I let that hang in the air a few seconds, it sounded so nice.

“Just tell me when and where, girl.”

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The weekend couldn’t come fast enough. As the date grew nearer the weather reported that it would be a hot, muggy summer weekend. Perfect. I was looking forward to warm evening runs followed by a swim in the lake.

When I landed at the airport my body was trembling with excitement. I almost knocked the flight attendant out of the way as I made my way off the airplane. I saw her, or felt her, almost immediately as I entered the terminal. Ellen was on her tip-toes straining to see up the jetway, and I saw that expectant smile on her face, exactly as I had remembered it.

We threw our arms around each other. I could feel the warmth of her body through the sundress she had on. She felt so wonderful. I didn’t want to break my hold on her. I wanted to feel her warmth against me, let the scent of her perfume fill my senses. This felt so right, to be hugging her. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

“Look at you,” she smiled. “You look like you are ready for vacation.” She beamed. I had worn my favorite wide-brimmed straw hat, and a simple taupe linen shift dress, snug at the hips, then slim down to my mid-calf. I am taller than Ellen, almost 5’8”, and my shoulder length brown hair flowed out from my hat over the dress’s spaghetti straps on my shoulders.

“I feel ready,” I laughed, ”for my vacation at the “Butterfly Spa.” She laughed and we held hands as we walked out of the airport and into the warm, humid, West Virginia afternoon.

It was an hour’s drive from the airport to the cabin, and we talked about the trip, and about how good it was to be together again. Mostly we kept saying how we couldn’t believe we were together again for a few days, and how much fun it would be to get caught up. As she drove I kept looking over to her. I was really surprised how strongly I felt attracted to her physically after seeing her again. I think since I had gotten over the first shock of feeling sexually attracted to her, over the past few months I had grown more comfortable with it, or maybe that wasn’t exactly the right way to put it. I think I had enjoyed thinking of her sexually as part of my own thoughts or fantasies. But now that I was with her again physically I was stunned how strongly I felt attracted to her.

I looked over at her as she drove, eyeing her delicate, yet strong fingers as they gripped the wheel of the car. Her eyes, those dark coal eyes, were lively, darting glances over the road, the horizon, and occasionally over to me. The skin on her face was perfect, almost creamy smooth, trailing down her neck. Her arms were toned. She worked out. I could see the curve of her breast through the arm-hole of her dress as she drove. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the soft flesh rose and fell enticingly as the car bounced over the country road. The yellow cotton dress was bunched at her hips leaving her legs exposed to the mid thigh. Her legs were spread, a foot on the gas pedal, and another against the door. She looked carefree, comfortable, and sexy.

“Are you even listening to me?” I looked at her puzzled.

“Oh my god, Ellen, I’m so sorry, I’m just so happy to be with you again.” With that she looked at me and her smile radiated her inner happiness. Her hand came off the wheel and clutched mine in hers next to my thigh. We didn’t say another word, just enjoyed the warm breezes coming through the windows.

The cabin was adorable. A small two-bedroom affair 100 feet from the water’s edge; it was perfect in its seclusion. Coombskille Lake is small, and Ellen told me that there were only two other houses on the lake, clear around the point and out of sight. Ellen showed me my room, overlooking the west edge of the pond. Her room was larger, overlooking the lake, with large screened windows and a fan, slowly churning. The bathroom was amazing. The size of the bathroom was equal to my room. It had a large claw toed copper tub that dominated the center of the room. You could easily fit two, I thought to myself.

“I love it Ellen. This is really charming.”

“Well, we’ll enjoy it later, get ready, it’s time for a run. Go get changed”, and off she went. I squealed with delight, and tore my luggage open. I loosed the straps of my dress, letting if fall off my shoulders and pool at my feet. I pulled on a white jogging bra, and simple black lycra shorts. I stepped out onto the porch where I found Ellen already stretching. She smiled over at me, leaning in and kissing me on the cheek. “We are going to have so much fun.”

We never saw another person, or car out on the country roads as we ran. Ellen begged me to slow down at times, “Hey, my legs are shorter.” I never did slow, and she never fell behind. We finished our 8 miles in the early evening heat of West Virginia. As we walked around the back of the cabin I looked at Ellen in her yellow jogging top, and matching yellow shorts. Her skin glistened with sweat, her muscular legs taut.

As we neared the pond, Ellen surprised me by reaching up and pulling her top up over her breasts and over her head. She looked at me as I stared slack-jawed at her breasts, perfect in their shape, and size I thought. They were full, and slightly up-turned at the olive colored nipple. She smiled, “Come on, let’s go for a swim.” It all seemed so natural for her as she slipped her shorts off and glided down the dock, diving into the dark waters of the lake with the grace and appearance of a swan, white against the black surface. She broke the surface in a long backstroke twenty-five feet from the dock. “Hey, c’mon, “ she yelled back at me, “it’s beautiful.”

It was an awkward moment for me, but as I looked at her, the absolute wonder of here face, and the energy she exuded, I mentally relaxed and reached for the underside of my jogging bra. I pulled it over my head and looked out again at Ellen in the water. She was openly looking at me, smiling. “Whoo hoo, go girl.” I had another moment of nervousness as I realized that she was not going to afford me any privacy by the courtesy of even looking away. She was still staring at me as I rolled my lycra shorts off my legs. I now stood only in my thong panties and the temptation to run into the bushes and hide was overwhelming. But as I looked over at Ellen I could see she wasn’t embarrassed at all, and in fact was looking at me with what I thought was a look of expectation. I could easily leave the thong on and just dive off the dock and in, but Ellen hadn’t done that. She was nude as moved languidly threw the water.

In one swift movement I removed my panties, and tossed them onto the pile of my clothes. I closed my eyes for a moment, encouraging myself to move with the confidence I didn’t really have. I had nothing to be ashamed of in terms of my body. My breasts are a b-cup, which look a bit bigger on my lean frame, but even at 32 everything seemed to be holding firm. My belly was still flat, and the running kept my legs in shape.

Ten paces and a less-than-graceful dive later, I joined Ellen in the cool, clean water. It felt wonderful to be nude in the water. As I moved through the water I felt it envelop me. It was a natural feeling. I swam over to where Ellen was treading water and we smiled at each other. “Isn’t this great Deb? It’s so relaxing to be here with you.”

“I didn’t know how much I needed this until right now.” I said. “I feel like I don’t have a care in the world.” I leaned back into a back-float and took a breath to float and look up at the sky. Immediately the water closed around me and I sank like a stone. I came up sputtering to the sound of Ellen laughing hysterically at me.

“You must be used to the ocean. Fresh water has less buoyancy then salt water. It’s harder to float and stuff. Here, try again, I’ll help you, but you have to take a bigger breath and really arch your back out.” She moved in next to me and I could feel her hand on the small of my back. I took a deep breath again and arched my back out over the water. As I did, I could feel her hands at the small of my back, the top of my buttocks, and between my shoulder blades. She gently lifted me in the water until I was completely horizontal. I could feel the cool evening air on my breasts as they broke the surface of the water and remained exposed. I knew that my nipples must have become hard in the cool breeze and the thought of Ellen looking at them made my temperature rise slightly.

What really made it hard to hold my breath was the feeling of Ellen’s fingers on my back. Her fingertips were applying the slightest of pressure at the top of my buttocks. Her other hand applied support between my shoulder blades. For three or four minutes I lay in her arms in the water, enjoying the sensation of the water and her hands holding me. At one point, as she was adjusting pressure to my bottom I felt my hips emerge from the water, and for a brief moment my pubis was exposed to the cool evening air. Intentional? Whenever I opened my eyes to look at Ellen, she was always looking at me with that same “nothing to hide” smile.

I exhaled my final breath and let myself slide beneath the warm surface of the water. I turned to Ellen and, quite unexpectedly, hugged her. “Thanks Ellen, that was so great.” I could feel her tense initially and then relax in my embrace. I was conscious of our breasts touching, and our thighs as we hugged. I felt a heat in my chest. I was so attracted to her, which was fine, because I knew we wouldn’t be sexual with each other. We were both straight and married. So it felt fine to be nude and hugging each other, because we were secure in our friendship. Right?

“Well, consider this your first hydrotherapy treatment for our spa weekend. Okay?” she said with that irrepressible energy.

“I can’t wait for my next treatment.” I said.

“Well, you don’t have too. C’mon, grab your stuff, let’s have a body scrub.” I looked at her quizzically as she walked out of the water and gathered her things into her arms and proceeded to walk up to the cabin.

I hadn’t noticed the latticework closet off to the side of the cabin. I could see now that it was an outdoor shower. Not the rustic single spigot, cold-water only affair I remember from my youth. This was a large space, surrounded by elegant woodwork and bordered by hanging flowers and vines on all sides. There were three large, circular showerheads suspended from the ceiling, which resembled a combination of an arbor and grape trellis. When Ellen turned the water on, the spray covered all of the leaves of the plants and the scent from the flowers was overpowering. It was breathtaking, like being in a garden in a warm summer rain.

“C’mon Deb, there’s plenty of room.” Ellen seemed completely unselfconscious of being with me naked, and her feeling was becoming contagious. I was losing my own inhibitions about being naked with her, as well as observing her nakedness. She stepped under the warm spray and I followed her. Letting the warm water cascade over my hair and down my body. After a moment or two Ellen moved to a small cabinet and removed a small milky colored container. “Sea salt scrub. Here, turn around.” I turned my back to her and I soon felt here hands applying a sandpaper- like lotion to my back and shoulders. “It will remove all the city grime from us, “ she laughed.

Her hands continued to apply the scrub to my shoulders, back, arms, and then my lower back. She didn’t hesitate at all when she came to my buttocks. Her hands deftly moved over my buttocks and down to my thighs, calves and feet. After the initial application of the scrub her hands would vigorously rub the scrub into my skin. It felt like a liquid sandpaper on me, it felt wonderful. After she had finished with my feet she stepped in closer behind me, and I felt her hands come up to my neck. Again, she applied the scrub, and a bit more gentle rub. Her hands came down from the hollow of my neck, and then along my shoulder blades. I was beginning to wonder how far this was going to go, when I felt her hands gently slide down and spread the scrub over my breasts and nipples. My heart skipped a beat, and Ellen, whose breasts I could now feel gently pressed into my back, stopped.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I should have asked first if you were comfortable with me applying the scrub like that. I wasn’t even thinking.”

“Oh c’mon Ellen, it’s fine. With you, I’m not self-conscious.” A lie. She didn’t wait for me to finish another sentence before I felt her hands again on my breasts, massaging the scrub into them, and then down along my belly.

“Deb, you have an awesome body. I wish I were taller like you.”

“Oh please, you keep in great shape. It’s hard work for both of us.”

“Okay, get under the water: rinse time.” I stepped under the warm falling spray and I closed my eyes. Ellen’s hands were on me again, rinsing away the salt scrub. Her hands ran lightly over my breasts, cupping each, gently lifting so he water would rinse away any scrub on the underside of my breast. I shuddered, but I don’t think she noticed.

“You’re turn.” I said as I reached for the container of sea salt. I felt strange about what I was about to do, but I was feeling an openness, and exhilaration that I hadn’t felt before. It didn’t feel sexual to me, it felt liberating. My body was tingling from the intimacy of being with Ellen in a completely open way. It wasn’t a charged sexual feeling at all, but more of an energizing feeling that comes with the realization of how full life can be.

As Ellen had done, I applied the sea-salt scrub to her back, rubbing it into her shoulders and down along the small of her back. I crouched and massaged another palm full of lotion into her bottom and the back of her thighs. I had to admit, I enjoyed touching her, the smoothness, the taut muscles of her thighs in contrast to the soft flesh of her bottom. I could have sworn I heard her moan slightly, but that was to be expected given the soothing feeling of the massage on her muscles.

I stood up and closed in behind her and began to massage her neck, and collar bone. Her head lolled back against my shoulder, and her body rested against me. My fingers worked down her neck, and then, as my heart pounded in my chest, over the tops of her breasts. It felt wonderful to touch her, and somehow, it felt “right”. It felt totally natural to cover her breasts with my hands, my fingers playing over her nipples. My hands slipped to the undersides of her breasts and I cupped them, feeling their soft weight in my hands. For a moment I held her, and held her breasts, and then I realized what I was doing, and I assumed a clinical pose, and quickly finished rubbing her body with the sea salt scrub. I could have sworn that I heard her sharp intake of breath as I touched her. I quickly, and silently, rinsed her. As I washed her with warm water I couldn’t help but notice the hardness of her nipples. They stood out like fingertips on her breasts, perhaps the water had stimulated them.