I woke up early the morning after Laura's story. Everyone was still asleep. I'm pretty sure everyone was way more drunk than I had been the night before. The air was still sharp and I could see my breath puff faintly as I walked down to the lakeshore. I was wrapped in a blanket and sat on the dock watching the cold clear sun peek slowly over the tree line.
As I sat there thinking about my group of friends and what we had done the night before, the white frost on the metal posts of the dock melted away to a sweat-like sheen. How would everyone feel about the situation we found ourselves in?
After worrying about my companions for a long while, I began to wonder about my own feelings. Was this getting out of hand? Was I prepared for my turn to bare my deepest sexual fantasy?
Laura's fantasy had come as a surprise, but I didn't feel any differently about her, she was still my best friend. In fact, I might have discovered a thing or two about myself. A possibility I had never considered, now seemed plausible, when presented the way Laura had. Maybe I could do the same for someone else in the group.
But Laura's fantasy had just been admitting a possible bisexual tendency or experimenting or whatever. I felt like my fantasy was dirty and shocking. Laura wasn't a pervert for what she shared, she should be celebrated for being honest with herself and us. We should feel honored to have her trust.
But wasn't this exactly what Natalie had been trying to say? Years ago what Laura had told us would get her locked away or even killed. Her sexual tendencies are no more or less sick than my own. It is simply other people's judgment I was afraid of. But that fear runs deep. I could see why Natalie thought this was so important. I guess I never thought about it before. Everyone knew people with kinks and fetishes were perverted and creepy and to be avoided and distance maintained. All the while I outwardly agreed with this assessment and joked about "those sickos", but inside, my shame simmered, knowing that I was a secret sicko.
That wasn't healthy. If Natalie was correct, it wasn't just me inwardly squirming with shame, but everyone else too. How stupid. Even if our kinks are all different, shouldn't we be respectful of everyone's individuality? It wasn't hurting anyone after all. This is America! We are supposed to be free to express ourselves, right? I was starting to understand why Natalie could get angry about this topic so quickly. I had only been thinking about it for an hour or so and I was getting a little upset.
Yes, I was glad we were sharing this experience with each other. We were lucky to have such an interesting chain of events lead us here. We were safe and respected and no one would be judging us. I started to look forward to Natalie's session that night and even to my own turn when it came.
*******
That day passed much as the day before had. There was some uneasiness in the morning, especially on Mae's part, but is melted like the frost on the dock when it was clear no one was judging anyone for any part of the night before. It was a giddy sense of freedom that I, and likely the others, had never experienced before. We now enjoyed not only the freedom from the structured life of classes and work, but now from the cultural restraints and pretenses we didn't even realize were weighing us down.
We had all seen each other naked and aroused. Was there anything more to hide from each other? I could even see the ample Midwestern bubble of personal space shrinking for each of us. We stood and spoke closer to one another than we were used to, even touching and physical contact becoming more and more comfortable.
When the time came to make and eat dinner, everyone seemed rushed and excited. The anticipation of the story was much more exciting than eating burgers and chips. But once we had finished eating and cleaning up, everyone just sat around the fire with their drinks. There was a slight anxiety along with the anticipation. None of us knew what might happen that night. Natalie finally broke the tension when she began to speak.
********
"So this is a fantasy I have had for a very long time." She began. "But I need to tell you about why this is such a big deal to me. When I was in high school, I had this boyfriend. We dated the last two years of high school and then went to college together. We had the rest of our lives planned out together. We were going to get our degrees in business and marketing, get married in the Florida Keys, and move up to Door County to open a Bed and Breakfast. We were going to have three kids. Alexis Marie, Aiden James, and Ethne Grace. You know how you are in High school, everything seems so easy and straight forward. I thought I was going to be with him for the rest of my life. We were both confident and exciting people. I could see my life laid out in front of me on a red carpet, all I had to do was live it.'
Near the beginning of my freshman year of college, I started having this fantasy. I dreamed it so many times it feels like it actually happened sometimes. It was such a part of me that I shared it with him. I told him how much it turned me on and asked him if we could do something like it. Just roll playing, you know. He tried a couple of times, but it didn't really work. I was disappointed, but I knew I could get over it. It was just one thing, right? Except that he broke up with me six week later. He said he didn't know me like he thought he did and that he couldn't see our life together anymore.'
I felt betrayed, you know? I hadn't changed at all, I was just being honest with him. It still devastated me and I completely blamed myself and my sick mind for ruining my life. It took me a long time to realize and come to terms with the fact that we probably would have broken up anyway. People change and grow so much in college we would have come out the other end completely different people. But to suddenly stop blaming yourself or being self-deprecating is easier said than done. To know something is different than to feel it.'
Once I finally did get myself back, I was angry. It's why I get so worked up about this kind of thing. I just hope someday he can admit to himself what his own True feeling are and be happy with himself.'
Anyway, that's why this is so important to me and why it's such a big deal to me to share this with you. So here it is:'
I get home from work at the amphatheater. We had a big concert and it went pretty late. It is the end of July so it is hot and really humid, so I am a mess when I walk in the door. I'm so exhausted, I don't even close the door all the way behind me. I just head straight for the shower, leaving a trail of damp, sweaty clothes behind me.'
I step naked into the shower, smelling musky and heat radiating from my sweaty skin. I turn the water on and the shock of the cold stream against my skin makes me gasp. Then, one at a time, ,my muscles relax and I sigh as I let the cold water shower onto my face, carrying the dirt and salt to trickle down my neck, between my breasts and down my stomach. Then slither down the inside of my leg to disappear down the drain. I just stand there for a while luxuriating in the sensations against my tired skin. I turn to wet my hair, my back and my ass.'
