Entangling: The Stepping Stones Trilogy : Part One

In this first book of The Stepping Stones Trilogy, join Joe and Samantha Eddington on their inspiring voyage of self-discovery.

Starting from a world of judgement and pious morality that fostered only inhibition, their path would lead them eventully through sensual landscapes and erotic exploration to an environment of nurture that they would never have dreamed possible

Follow their journey as, through their physical forms and finding the courage to be totally honest in a world that relishes condemnation, they arrive in a beautiful state of spiritual intimacy, love and connection.

Europe was cloaked in night. Millions of slumbering bodies lay peacefully; their conscious lives temporarily shut-down for maintenance. A myriad of theatres played out strange realities in dreams across the continent, ranging in genre from horror to sumptuous love stories. Bizarreconversations and interactions took their chances for expression. The uncensored realm of the subconscious allowed forbidden dialogues to take place; free from the taboos of the waking world.

Souls took their annual flight, this particular night, while the guards they inhabited slept and repaired in differing parts of the world. They mingled, greeting familiar energies and dabbling in new connections.

As dawn edged in from the east, they hurried back to their physical forms, knowing that the game they played would bring them together in any one of various ways, without knowing why. The mystery was part of the game.

For some, the game had become tainted by damaged parts. Biology, despite its potential, was an imperfect mechanism. But the lucky souls had found bodies which did at least allow for some semblance of vision. In a game where learning was the object, this was a blessed advantage.

Two of these lucky souls descended earthwards, homing in on their soon-to-awaken bodies. They had met centuries before then lost sight of each other until recently. Their path to reunion had taken them on arduous journeys and widely differing landscapes; some happy, some blighted by tortuous lifetimes. But they had, eventually, found each other again.

They nestled into their forms and waited for the daybreak to trigger their third-eye chakras to begin the process of awakening. Their adopted identities returned from sleep and their eyes slowly opened.

Sunday 1st November 2015 - Guildford.

Morning broke beautifully and the sun’s rays were penetrating the cold outside their window; both lightening and warming Joe and Samantha Eddington’s bedroom which overlooked fields behind the house. The warmth seemed to complement, at some semi-conscious level, the deep sense of bond between them.

Samantha turned lazily to drape one arm across Joe and rest her head on his chest.

“You know what, Joe?” she began, “When I look at or listen to so many of the couples we know, I don’t think any of them are as lucky as we are.”

“Wow,” Joe answered. “Isn’t that a bit assuming?”

“Well, no, not really,” she countered.

“But, how can you say that anyone else is less happy or fulfilled, or whatever, in their lives than we are?”

“Well… maybe I can’t. But I just can’t imagine they are! Too many secrets. That never works.”

“I suppose you’re right,” agreed Joe as he strained his neck to see what sunrise shots were there for the taking out of their window. “Maybe we should poach Aaron’s techniques and offer classes,” he chuckled.

“Now, who’s assuming!” joked Samantha back. “Mind you, The Stepping Stone would be a good venue for it. Hmmmm!”

She slid out from under the duvet and yawned her way downstairs to make them both a coffee. Returning, she found Joe squinting into his tripod-mounted camera as he lined up a shot through the open side-window. The shutter clicked and he peered at the result on the screen.

“Not bad!” he enthused.

Samantha set his cup down and went to the window sill, sipping at hers.

“Oh! Hold that pose a moment,” said Joe.

Samantha looked thoughtfully out of the window, one hand across her tummy clutching the steaming mug; the other resting on the sill. Her ample bare breasts, still firm and pert despite her approaching forty-eighth birthday, shone golden; bathed in the sunlight. Her face and full form down to her waist was reflected in the window and her slender legs were crossed at the ankles.

Joe adjusted the aperture several times as he experimented to get the desired effect.

“My hair must look a mess though,” observed Samantha, trying to see her reflection in the glass. Reaching to her shoulder-blades, dark and slightly wavy, it was obviously unbrushed as yet.

“A sexy mess,” Joe answered. “That ‘just out of bed look’ that’s so popular these days,”

“Flatterer,” she accused.

“Anyway,” said Joe, “What made you bring up the subject of how lucky we are this morning? Does today have some special relevance?”

“Well, next Saturday…?” she prompted.

“What about it?” asked Joe, alarmed as to whose birthday or other vitally important thing he might have forgotten.

“What is it with you and dates?” sighed Samantha.

“I’m crap at them, is what it is. You know that so… just tell me… pretty please!” he simpered, casting her a puppy-dog-pleading look.

“It’s our anniversary!” she frowned.

“What?? No it isn’t! Today is… ummm…”

“Sunday.”

“November the first.,” Joe said, narrowing his eyes but failing to look threatening. Our anniversary was only four months ago!” he huffed.

“Five, for fuck’s sake!” Samantha said, clasping her head in one hand. “Anyway, I’m not talking about the marriage ones. I mean, our vows!”

“Oh! …” said Joe, suitably apologetic. “Right, yes. I see.Chapter One

Ten Years (and five months) Earlier : Niueweschans, Holland

The ‘I do’s’ were uttered after which the newly-weds and gathered on-lookers made their way to the reception. Joe and Samantha clock-watched until they could make their excuses to leave without risking insulting anyone’s efforts to attend. They had a train to catch, after all. And anyway, it was their wedding! Surely it was up to them how long they stayed, wasn’t it?

They had opted for a spa hotel in Holland, rather than the clichéd beach resorts that many they knew had chosen for honeymooning. It proved to be a good choice and one that would set them on a path of self-discovery neither of them could have imagined.

“Beautiful place!” enthused Samantha as the taxi driver that had conveyed them the last leg of their journey from Bad Niueweschans Station brought their luggage into reception for them.

“It does look lovely,” agreed Joe.

They were taken to their room by a porter who explained the facilities to them and that someone was available twenty-four-hours a day should they need anything.

“It’s almost annoying how good their English is,” remarked Joe as the young man left them to settle.

“It’s embarrassing,” Samantha concurred. “But we can’t learn an entire language for a two-week trip.”

“I know, but still… I doubt we’ll be needing this!” he said as he pulled a phrase-book from one of the suitcases.

“You’ll find other ways to impress them, I’m sure,” soothed Samantha.

“Sarky,” he huffed.

“You were right about not flying here,” Samantha said, changing the subject.

They had gone by train from Guildford into London, a taxi to Liverpool Street Station, another train to Harwich and boarded an overnight ferry to Hook of Holland, followed by two more trains, via Amsterdam, to Niueweschans. The journey alone had felt like an adventure; the perfect start to married life.

That said, ‘adventurous’ was not a label that many who knew them would have attached to them. ‘Safe’, ‘steady’, ‘reliable and trustworthy’ would have been far more in keeping to both their personalities and their lifestyle. Those traits - or apparent traits - had secured them their jobs and the jobs rewarded them with security.

They did share moments of mischief. They felt very naughty raising eyebrows in the ferry breakfast room as they giggled about how their marriage had been consummated in the middle of the North Sea.

“Actually, I estimate it was probably in Harwich Harbour,” Joe had corrected.

“God! How romantic!” Samantha snorted. “Costa Del Bloody Harwich.”

Feeling very cool he leant forwards and whispered, “No way could I have kept my hands off you till we were in open ocean!” which almost rescued him.

But that was about as naughty as they got. They didn’t even know the tricks their inner-selves had played on them in choosing Holland for a honeymoon; persuading their conscious minds that a Dutch spa would be a virtuous exploration of health and tulips.

“What do you fancy doing first?” Joe asked, rinsing the journey off himself in the shower.

Samantha sidled into the shower with him and they snuggled under the jet.

“I love you,” she purred into his ear as she kissed his neck.

“I love you too,” he replied. “But the question was what you fancy doing first.”

“And I’m answering,” she said, kissing his neck and reaching down to make sure her intended effect was happening. She found it was.

“What, here? In the shower?” Joe wondered.

“Mmmm… something we’ve never tried before for the first day of our honeymoon.”

Ten minutes later they were draped around each other on the bed savouring their respective essences on their tongues.

Samantha licked her lips. “You know… before I met you, I never thought I’d allow, let alone enjoy, a man coming in my mouth.”

“I feel honoured,” Joe chuckled.

“So you should!”

“But…so… you never did that with previous boyfriends?”

“Nope. I mean, I did… taste… a couple of boyfriends. But they had to finish outside.”

“Hmmm,” Joe murmured, staring at the ceiling.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Joe lied. “Just reflecting on what you said.”

That much was true but he wasn’t prepared to say that he was actually trying to picture her with one of her exes and struggling slightly with the images that formed in his mind.

“It’s different with you,” Samantha stated slowly. “I can’t even explain why. It just is,” she said, watching her own hand stroke Joe’s chest. Joe couldn’t quite understand why her words comforted him; nor even what he was being comforted against.

Samantha allowed her current state of contentment to ease her into a satisfied nap. As she drifted off, Joe gazed along her form. His whole attention being brought to that present moment. She seemed perfect. Silky smooth skin wrapped her undulating form as a layer of satin would blanket the contours of a landscape.

As she unconsciously eased round onto her back her long wavy hair stayed loosely over one shoulder and adorned one breast. Her nipple, still erect from their pleasures in the shower, tried to poke through the strands.

Carefully, without waking her, he reached for his camera and caught the moment for posterity. After a few clicks of the shutter, he slid off the bed to angle himself at mattress-level and took a few more. He was close to tears.

Her smooth forehead sloped gently into her eyes. Her closed eyelids bulged slightly, sloped downwards again, then her skin rose to her cute nose, dropped again, rose a little less and undulated over her lips and chin before dropping more sharply down to her throat. From there, like the foothills of a higher mount, her line lifted to her full breasts before sloping gently down towards her tummy.

The tears welled in his eyes as he wondered what favour he must have afforded the gods to be rewarded with such a beauty as his wife.

A knock at the door broke his reverie and shook Samantha from her dozing. Hurriedly, he tried to wipe the moisture from his eyes as he reached for a towel and t-shirt.

“Darling? What’s wrong?” asked a startled Samantha.

“No no… nothing. There’s someone at the door, that’s all.”

“But… are you crying? What is it?” she pressed.

He motioned to her to pull the duvet over her as he approached the door and opened it to find the porter had returned.

“Our apologies Sir… Madam,” he said, with two thick-towelling robes with their room number embroidered on the breast of each in his outstretched hands. “We realised we had forgotten to leave you these. For the spa, when you go there,” he explained.

“Oh! Right… thank you. And no need to apologise,” Joe replied, taking them from him and noticing the fine quality of the fabric..

“Wow, these are lovely,” he said as he held them to his face once the door was closed again.

“Joe, what’s the matter?” Samantha asked again, the interruption failing to quell her worry.

“Really… nothing Sweetheart,” he tried to assure her. “I was just… thinking how lucky I am, that’s all.”

“Awww… well, soooo am I,” she cooed.

’Are you, though?’ Joe silently wondered.

Much as the spa was going to be the main attraction of their stay, they decided to take a stroll and work up an appetite for dinner. The typically flat Dutch landscape (in contrast to Samantha’s, Joe noted) was nonetheless pleasant and they found themselves wandering from that into the equally typical Dutch architecture and clean streets of the small town within half an hour.

They found a charming café with tables outside and sat absorbing their surroundings. A very pretty woman in her late thirties, with golden braids hanging beside her barely concealed breasts brought them a free re-fill and cheerily asked them if it was their first time in Holland.

“We’re on our honeymoon, in fact. Just arrived today,” confirmed Samantha.

“Oh!! How lovely! Congratulations!” enthused the woman.

“Dank je vel,” Joe replied with a curt bow of his head, causing an even wider smile to grace her looks.

“Wow! Je spreekt al Nederlands,” she said, impressed.

“Well… no… only ‘thank you’, so far,” confessed Joe.

“That’s still more than most bother to learn!” she beamed and went off to attend to another customer.

“Look at you!” smirked Samantha. “Already winning hearts and minds.”

“Hardly,” said Joe.

“Well, she seemed impressed, at least,” remarked Samantha.

“Some people are easily pleased.”

“Oo!! Don’t do that!” Samantha half-snarled.

“Force of habit,” Joe replied.

“Well then, break it. I feel very proud sitting here with you, Mister Eddington.”

“Proud?”

“Yes,” confirmed Samantha. “Call it ego, if you like, but I think she quite liked you… and yet… you’re all mine!” she said smugly, leaning across the table and kissing him on the lips like a soldier planting a flag on captured territory.

Joe smiled back as genuinely as he could but, although he wanted to, couldn’t quite believe Samantha’s words.

“Good morning Mrs Eddington,” Joe greeted his wife with, the next morning, as she stirred, rolled and stretched in the sumptuous bed. Their room had patio doors leading onto a veranda shared with other ground floor rooms. Joe had pulled the main curtains half open and had moved a chair over to enjoy the view through the nets that allowed the light in whilst maintaining some privacy.

“Mmmm, good morning,” she smiled back at him. “How long have you been up?”

“Only half an hour or so,” he replied and sipped at the coffee he’d made himself. “I’ll make you a cup, if you like. Very nice, considering it’s instant.”

“Why didn’t you wake me? And yes, please,” she said, dragging herself from under the duvet and heading for the en-suite bathroom. “I hope nobody can see in through those nets.”

“I’d say you’re safe,” he assured her but she grabbed her robe anyway. “And, I just didn’t want to disturb you,” he continued when she re-emerged, having attended to the obligatory morning pee. He handed her the coffee he’d made her and pulled a chair over so she could join him.

“Looks lovely out,” she observed. “I fancy a day of spa and sunbathing. You should have woken me though.”

“But then I wouldn’t have been able to just sit here enjoying the view; and I’m not talking about that one out there.”

“Perv,” she teased gently.

Joe entered a guilty plea in response.

Breakfast was a buffet affair in the dining room. They got in early enough to let the continental delights go down before heading towards the spa.

In the privacy of their room, Samantha changed into a simple black bikini which Joe found very alluring and suddenly wondered how many other men would find likewise. He donned a pair of swimming trunks and his robe and admonished his qualms by inwardly resolving to overcome these pesky insecurities; though exactly how he would achieve that was still a question.

Swim-suited and robed they padded through towards the spa, opting for the outdoor pool first. People were already aimlessly floating about looking very happy. The various salts in the water gave it a buoyancy such that you couldn’t sink in it.

“This is sort of weird but lovely,” chuckled Samantha as they joined and chatted with other guests like boats in a harbour who had lost their anchors. The water held them, even when they relaxed. Joe hadn’t realised how much stress he’d been holding from work until the watery support allowed his muscles to be lazy and draw the tension away.

“I could just bob about in here for a week,” he said to Samantha but half an hour sufficed and they got their robes back on and headed for the indoor section, looking forward to the jacuzzis, saunas and steam room that had been so classily depicted in the brochure.

“Good morning!” beamed a very healthy looking young woman, sporting the name-badge ‘Kendra’ as they went into the reception. “Room 107, I see,” she said, reading their robes and scribbling the number down quickly on a sheet. “This is your first visit?”

“First time, yes,” Samantha told her. “Looking forward to it!”

“I’m sure you’ll love it,” said Kendra. “Here is a key for your locker. You can leave your swimwear there and then I’ll show you the facilities,” she chirped.

“Ummm, wait, what, sorry?” Samantha asked.

“I need to show you the facilities as it’s your first time,” Kendra explained.

“Yes, but, no… Sorry, I meant… You said we can leave our swimwear…” stuttered Samantha.

“That’s right. It’s actually very rare that anything goes missing but… safer there,” Kendra explained.

“But, leave our swimwear?” Samantha asked again.

“Ah… that’s right. No clothing allowed inside,” Kendra told them.

Panic tore through Samantha. She looked at Joe with her eyes full of anxiety and failed to notice how his portrayed a similar discomfort.

“Did you know about this?” she almost demanded.

“I didn’t, no,” he answered guardedly. “And why would you think I would spring a surprise like this on you?”

Samantha tried reining in her growing anger.

“I’m sorry. That was unfair of me,” she admitted. “But… what are we going to do?”

He hesitated and thought for a moment.

“Look, we did say we wanted to see this trip as a bit of an adventure, didn’t we?” Joe reminded her.

“Yes, but I wasn’t thinking about diving into a bloody nudist colony!” she hissed.

“It’s hardly that,” Joe tried.

Kendra looked somewhat bemused.

“Could you give us a moment, please?” asked Samantha, leading Joe back towards the door.

“What are we going to do?” she asked. “This was all your idea.”

“Which you liked!” he said defensively.

“But I didn’t know we’d be… parading ourselves!” she hissed.

“’Parading?’”

“Yes! Walking about without a stitch on… in front of a load of strangers. I’d call that parading,” she said, becoming rapidly more flustered.

“I think you’re over-reacting a bit,” Joe ventured, hoping that hiding his own reserve might soothe hers.

“How am I? That’s exactly what’s going on in there, isn’t it?”

“How do we know? We haven’t even seen inside yet,” Joe tried reasoning.

“But…” Samantha stammered, a maelstrom of feelings churning in her stomach.

They stood in silence for a while until Kendra, reading their body-language, approached them again and attempted a calm intervention. She tried to explain that everything was very safe. This was Holland. Things were different. There would be whole families there. Robes were quite ok at the refreshment bar and in the ‘chill-out lounge’ but nudity was quite the norm; indeed, compulsory.

“This is just a spa. It’s not a swinger’s club or something,” she concluded. “You can relax, I promise you.”

Joe gently held Samantha’s arm.

“I think we should go in and see what’s what,” he suggested.

“But… all those naked women…”

“And men, I should think!” Joe pointed out.

“Exactly!” pounced Samantha. “Are you saying you’re happy for me to be on show for them?”

Joe was taken aback by the question, but thought hard for a moment.

“No, but… think a second. What did you feel yesterday at the café? What was that pride thing all about?

“So you do want to show me off!” she accused.

“If it makes me feel the same pride you felt, maybe!” he answered, still feeling like he had to defend himself. “Do you trust me?”

“ Of course I do,” she replied, though at that moment it was a lie.

“Then, my suggestion is that we go in and if we don’t like it, we can just leave.”

Samantha pondered nervously but started to relax a little.

“I suppose there’s no law that says we have to stay,” she conceded.

“And anyway,” Joe continued, “You heard what the lady said. I’m sure people just come here to enjoy the spa. It’s not about showing off or showing anyone off.”

“I suppose you’re right… OK then,” she finally decided and they smiled at Kendra that all was well and followed her in.

Samantha hurriedly bundled her bikini into their locker and wrapped the robe around her before anyone other than Kendra could catch a glimpse of her nakedness. Kendra simply stood waiting patiently at the locker-room door and Samantha noticed her apparent lack of interest in either her or Joe’s brief nudity.

The tour of facilities completed, Kendra wished them a lovely time and returned to reception to leave them sitting with teas at the bar.

“It doesn’t seem so bad, I suppose,” remarked Samantha. “Not sure how I’ll feel when I take this off though.”

“Nobody else seems bothered,” observed Joe. “I think it’s just us. What shall we do first? I quite like the steam-room idea.”

About six other robes hung indifferently on pegs by the steam-room door as Joe and Samantha took a deep breath and prepared to divest themselves of theirs. Joe went first, sensing a need to be the man in their relationship and lead the way with protective bravery.

“Well… go on then,” he urged, feeling rather exposed while waiting for her to follow his lead..

Samantha slowly unwrapped herself and they stood facing each other for a second before Joe took her hand.

“You’re safe with me,” he assured her and suddenly felt a foot taller than usual.

A heavy breath of steam billowed out as they opened the door and stepped nervously through it.

Early 1980s : Billericay, Essex, England

“What do you think you’re doing?” yelled Sandra Birch at her seven - nearly eight - year-old daughter.

“We’re playing,” came Samantha’s reply in a confused voice. She couldn’t understand the question, when the answer seemed so obvious. Neither could she understand why her mother was so angry.

“Get here, now!” commanded Sandra. “And put your clothes back on.”

“But… they’ll get wet!” Samantha pointed out, still confused.

“Get here, I said!” growled Sandra. “No more playtime for you.”

The Birch’s neighbours, the Grahams, were rather more ‘liberal’, as Sandra labelled them, attaching it as an insult. As such, they thought nothing of Samantha and their two children, Charlie and Carolyn, splashing about without clothes in the paddling pool they had inflated for them in the garden.

Fiona and Dean Graham watched through their kitchen window with heavy hearts as Samantha got dressed and trudged to her mother looking ready to cry. Charlie and Carolyn looked bewildered and sad.

To the Grahams, the scene was simply a picture of childhood innocence, devoid of the awkwardness and self-consciousness that they had grown up with. They had decided before planning a family, that such body-anxiety would not be a part of their children’s upbringing. Several holidays to naturist resorts had confirmed in their minds that that was a path and lifestyle they wished to follow.

Sandra helped Samantha over the waist-high fence between the gardens and told her to get in the house. Samantha looked back to wave at her friends with tears rolling down her face.

“Awww, that poor girl,” sighed Fiona.

“I know,” agreed Dean. He grabbed a pair of shorts and went into the garden in time to catch Sandra as she was leading Samantha to the patio door.

“Excuse me, Sandra,” Dean said over the fence. “Is there something wrong?”

“Go inside,” hissed Sandra to her daughter.

“Oh, I think you know very well there is,” she answered, sliding the door shut with Samantha’s face peering through the glass.

“No, I really don’t,” said Dean.

“Well, for a start, if you think I’m getting into conversation with a naked man…”

“If you’d bother to look closely enough, you’d see I’m wearing shorts,” interrupted Dean. “Now, can I ask again? What is the problem here?”

Sandra strode back to the fence to get out of Samantha’s earshot.

“We know what kind of people you are,” growled Sandra.

“Oh? And what kind is that?” asked Dean.

“You know very well,” Sandra said, her voice laden with loathing.

Samantha tried to listen from behind the door but she could only watch the fierce body-language her mother was displaying contrasted with the more relaxed stance Dean adopted. Samantha’s hands were on the glass and she tried going on tip-toe to see if Charlie and Carolyn were still playing but then winced and jumped back as Sandra’s hand suddenly flew up and slapped Dean’s face.

Fiona appeared in a hurry, gathering Charlie and Carolyn and herding them protectively into the kitchen. Sandra was stomping back towards the door.

“So you’d readily shame your daughter for playing innocently with her friends but you’re quite happy to expose ours to violence!” Samantha heard him shout as Sandra did her best to hurry through and close the door behind her.

Within six months, the Birches had moved to Guildford, thus ensuring that Samantha would not be exposed to the debauchery of outdoor nudity. Despite the speed of the move, they had researched and chosen their new home carefully, opting for a house neighbouring a church on one side and an elderly couple on the other.

Samantha was allowed to play with the vicar’s children but all other potential friendships had to be carefully vetted and approved by her parents. The instinctive voice of protest in Samantha’s heart was eventually silenced and by the age of thirteen, she had grown into a shy, reserved pre-pubescent teenager. Her parents were so proud of her.

May 2005 : Nieuweschans, Holland

“Morgen!” chirped several voices. Peering through the mist, which thus far was giving them welcome cover, they saw the rotund figure of an elderly man, moving to the other side of his wife to free-up two seats together for Joe and Samantha.

They thanked the man and sat quickly down, feeling less exposed than when standing.

Relief began to seep through their nervousness. They noted how everybody seemed perfectly at ease, engaging in intermittent, yet polite, as far as they could tell, conversation in German.

It seemed all age groups and, despite this being a centre of well-being, all body-types were represented. Between conversational contributions, eyes were closed as heads rested back into the seating and the cleansing ofskin was savoured.

“I feel a bit silly now,” whispered Samantha into Joe’s ear. “Apart from the fact that nobody has any clothes on, we could be sitting anywhere.”

“See?” said Joe, gallantly refraining from adding ‘I told you so’.

Ten or fifteen minutes was the advised maximum duration each time and they exited, grabbed their robes and went to rehydrate at the bar.

“I feel a lot easier now, too,” Joe said. “And you’re right. It’s curious how quickly everything just felt sort of, well, normal in there. What shall we try next?”

They peered in through the window of one of the sauna doors. Empty. Kendra happened to be walking by and advised them to take their towels in to sit on as the wooden benches could be a bit on the warm side. They took her advice and went in.

Despite the every-day atmosphere of the nude steam room dissipating their qualms, they were both relieved that the sauna was empty. Neither wanted to admit that to the other, though.

Of the three saunas available, this one was set at the lowest temperature. They summised that the others were for the more seasoned spa-lovers. That suited them. For the first time outside the sanctity of their bedroom, they started to unwind properly at last.

Joe sat upright. Samantha did too but after ten minutes or so, felt relaxed enough to prone herself and rested her head in Joe’s lap. Joe leant back against the wall, stroking Samantha’s hair and tried to focus on not getting an erection. Suddenly, it was just the two of them.The outside world of prying eyes was shielded from them and their minds began to wander.

“Well, we did say that our honeymoon should feel like an adventure,” said Joe. “It kinda feels like one, so far!”

“I’ll say,” agreed Samantha. “I’m glad though. I think we’ve learned something this morning.”

“What? You mean we now have first hand experience of how uptight the British public is?”

“I was going to say ‘modest’,” Samantha said. “But… maybe you’re right. Do you think we could feel as relaxed - or brave - as this in an English spa?”

“Hmmm… good point. There is an element of the foreign-ness here that seems to make it easier,” Joe agreed.

He gazed down at her, once again admiring her form and wondering how he had got to be so lucky. For a moment, he forgot that there was no lock on the door and bent down to kiss her. She responded by placing a hand on the back of his head and returning the kiss fully, causing a stirring in his member. This however, was quickly quashed by the sound of the door being opened.

Samantha jerked upwards and in a flash, was attempting nonchalance as a man stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

“Good morning,” he greeted them with as he found a spot to occupy.

“Morning,” they greeted back.

A short silence followed; the kind that hovers there waiting to see if it should be broken or not. Joe and Samantha wondered if he had noticed what they were up to. Joe followed that with wondering if ’up to’ could even be applied here. They were only kissing, after all. Except, they were naked and…

‘No… don’t go there,’ Joe told himself internally.

They scanned and appraised the newcomer. He was, they estimated about five years or so their senior, of average build and looking like he took care of his health. There was also an air about him that neither of them could find a description for. Deciding to break the slightly odd silence, Joe observed that the newcomer sounded English.

“That’s right, yes,” the man confirmed.

“Us too,” Joe replied. Whereabouts are you?”

“I doubt you’ll have heard of it,” the man said. “A little village called Shalford.”

Not recognising the lack of elaboration as a way of avoidingfurther engagement, Samantha answered.

“Oh! We certainly have! We’re from Guildford,” she said enthusiastically. The man simply smiled and nodded before adding, “Well… small world,” without matching Samantha’s enthusiasm.

“First time here?” asked Samantha.

“Been a few times, now,” he replied.

“It’s our first. We picked it for our honeymoon,” beamed Samantha.

“Well, congratulations,” he offered and managed a smile which Samantha took as a sign that further conversation was welcome.

“Sam and Joe,” Samantha told him.

“Aaron,” he nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

The exchange paused then until Samantha wondered what he did for a living.

“I’m in private practice,” Aaron told her.

“Oh! A doctor. Very good,” Samantha remarked.

“No, no,” corrected Aaron. “I’m a therapist and life-coach.”

“Ahhh!” said Samantha. “That must be interesting work.”

“It is. As long as you’re careful,” he agreed.

“Careful?” wondered Samantha. “You mean, like, it’s dangerous?”

“Not in a physical or violent way,” Aaron said. “Just that people latch on and can drain your energy if you’re not careful. You have to shield yourself in that way.”

“Gosh… I think I need to cool down a bit,” said Joe suddenly. “Shall we get another drink, Sam, and come back in a while?”

“Oh! Er… yes, ok. Let’s do that,” she said, confused by the sudden interruption.

“Nice to meet you Aaron. We’re here for the week so maybe we’ll bump into you again,” Joe said politely.

“Are you ok, Sweetheart?” asked Samantha as they strolled towards the bar. “You didn’t even seem to be sweating yet.”

“I think Aaron just wants a little down-time,” he answered.

“But…”

“Think about it,” Joe said. “Imagine listening to people’s woes day in day out. I would imagine all he wants to do on holiday is get away from all that and find some peace and quiet. I think that reference he made to shielding was a little hint.”

Joe had read Aaron’s statement correctly and for the rest of their stay, they were careful to approach Aaron with respectful caution, though they did both quite like him. They didn’t know why that was so, but in the few conversations they managed to have with him, he portrayed an image of quiet confidence and hidden depths.

Despite the rapidity with which their first day of social nudity had dispelled their initial fears, the week was not without its sporadic hiccups. Having felt relieved at the sight of mostly elderly patrons whose lack of shyness they soon came to admire, not everyone in there was of a certain age.

On the third day, just as their confidence was developing nicely, a particularly attractive couple waltzed happily into the medium-hot sauna. Having progressed gingerly from the coolest, both Joe and Samantha were building quite a sweat as the newcomers entered.

Samantha didn’t know where to look and neither did Joe as they took their places on the opposite bench and greeted them warmly in Dutch.

“Ah, you’re English!” said Anja, hearing Joe’s accent as he attempted to go local in responding. “First time in Holland?” she asked in a voice filled with inner confidence.

Joe marvelled at her demeanour. The sense of ease with her own nudity was no more than anyone else they had met so far in there. But it was that quiet comfort coupled with her shining blue eyes, long blond hair, very pretty face, full breasts and swimmer’s physique that Joe found at once admirable and troubling. Sex appeal oozed from her, apparently effortlessly. He almost didn’t notice Samantha’s reply.

“That’s right,” confirmed Samantha. “On our honeymoon,” she added sensing deep down that she was marking her territory by saying so. Joe wondered if she had picked up his thoughts and fought to bury them deeper, unaware that Samantha was engaged in her own inner struggle as she took note of Luuk’s natural charm.

He was tall, like Joe. He had a well-toned body suggesting regular sessions at the gym - less like Joe - and she found herself trying to avoid glancing between his legs at the sizeable package on display. Joe noticed this too and found himself glancing down at himself;relieved to affirm that, in that department anyway, he was a match.

“That’s so cool!” enthused Luuk. “Congratulations guys! And good choice of venue for it. We love this place.”

Despite their inner squirming, an easy conversation (at least on the surface) struck up between the four of them. Basic life-histories were exchanged, after which they learned that Anja and Luuk were from Venlo but had actually met here at the spa when both of their companies had organised breaks for their employees.

Aaron happened to enter in the middle of the chat and sat quietly observing.

That night, Joe and Samantha went for another stroll and returned to enjoy a romantic evening together. Joe loved watching Samantha undress, as ever, but was plagued by images of Anja stripping off as Samantha’s clothes dropped off her.

Samantha, likewise, fought to bury the truth, even to herself, that Luuk kept intruding on her thoughts. Joe sat on the bed with only a towel around him. Samantha smiled seductively at him as she stripped and stood naked before him.

Slowly, she walked over to him and crawled up the mattress like a leopard. Opening his towel, she found him ready and lowered her lips to take his arousal into her mouth and savoured him; more slowly than usual, wanting him to build gradually.

Joe took her hair in his hands and moved it to one side so he could enjoy watching her. She looked him directly in the eye; not something she was in the habit of doing whilst feeding on his flesh but this time she held his gaze.

Their eye-contact seemed to act like a catalytic accelerant. A confusing and heady mix of feelings swirled around their psyches. The undeniable attraction they had both felt in the sauna merged with guilt and an accompanying drive to claim ownership of each other and keep rivals at bay. The lust produced by all this was overwhelming.

Within minutes, Samantha was kissing and licking all over Joe’s torso until it was Joe’s turn to roll her onto her back and return the attention. His tongue went at her folds with a new level of hunger and a grim determination to leave her thinking no man could ever give her the pleasure he was now according her.

Samantha wrapped her legs around his back and gripped his head as he relished her juices. Her full flow was delicious and told him that he was succeeding in his aims. Before long, a stronger orgasm than she could remember knowing tore through her.

Similarly, Joe was sure he’d never felt harder than at this moment and, as her orgasm subsided into its last few shudders, plunged into her and their usual passionate, yet tender, love-making became an intense fucking.

“Wow!” breathed Samantha as they lay, spent, on the bed about five minutes later. “That was… different!” she chuckled.

Joe was strangely lost. He couldn’t explain what had just happened when Samantha wondered ’where that had come from’. A possible answer did try to surface as to how Luuk and Anja had unknowingly played a part in all this. But he managed to bury that thought. The whole idea was too challenging.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I just … wanted to please you,” he said simply.

“Mmmm… and you did!” she assured him, nuzzling in to his neck. “You always do.”

The following day, Aaron became a little more engaging with the Eddingtons. He seemed grateful that Joe had respected his need for a break from listening and offered them to share his table at breakfast.

“How are you enjoying it here?” he asked them.

“Liking it more now, I’d say,” said Samantha. “Our first day in the spa was… well… a bit of a learning curve!”

“And what did you learn?” Aaron wondered.

“I think… well … firstly how uptight we Brits are about nudity,” she offered, suddenly aware of the fact that this was about the first time they had met Aaron wearing anything. But then she was further bemused that that didn’t feel strange… which was strange.

“Holland, and Germany, have a lot to teach us in that respect,” agreed Aaron.

“I think you’re right,” agreed Joe, finding himself wishing he was alone with Aaron at that moment so that he might reach an understanding of the previous night’s happenings.

They chatted a bit more generally for a time until Samantha got up to refill her orange juice. Joe seized the opportunity to tell Aaron that he would like to book an appointment on their return but asked that he didn’t say anything to Samantha.

Assuring him of client confidentiality, they exchanged phone numbers surreptitiouslybefore Samantha returned.

Soon afterwards, as Joe went to get fresh coffee, Aaron inwardly chuckled at the irony as Samantha took the chance to ask the very same favour. It was nothing new to him, though, and his face was a picture of innocence as Joe returned to the table.

The rest of the week went relatively smoothly, except whenever Anja and Luuk appeared. Joe and Samantha both noted internally that the increased lust after spending any time with them might not be a coincidence. Thankfully, though, a further conversation with Aaron - which was a coincidence - provided them with an escape clause from any guilt they might be feeling.

“A lot of people equate nudity with sex,” he explained. “So, in the UK at least, naturists try to claim that their nude social settings are nothing to do with sex.”

“I’ve heard such claims,” agreed Joe. “And, from what I gather, that’s sort of true, isn’t it? I mean… look at the spa here, for example.”

“True, yes, although they miss an important point which I personally think would be a more positive message,” said Aaron. “Despite their claims, it’s not true. The point they need to make is that we don’t think about sex any more or less often wether we’re clothed or not.”

“Hmmm…” mused Samantha, unsure on this point, given the last few nights’ additional libido.

“What can happen, is that social nudity makes us more relaxed and accepting of our own bodies. That boosts confidence, which in turn, can boost libido,” Aaron explained.

“I think I get that bit,” Joe agreed. Samantha was nodding too. Their secrets were safe.

For the second week of their honeymoon, the Eddingtons took another train ride down to Paris; its fame as a city of romance having influenced their choice. It didn’t disappoint. Gone was the distraction of Luuk and Anja’s comfortable nudity, though an albeit more subtle range of distractions made occasional incursions. The Parisian charm of numerous waiters and elegantly clad females were safer than being confronted in the steamy atmosphere of saunas.

Nothing of this was discussed, of course, until their return home and Aaron was soon consulted by each of them, in quick succession.