Chapter 10

The tour of the Colony consumed most of the day, and I welcomed the chance to sit down and collect my thoughts. We were back in the cabin with about twenty minutes to spare before dinner. I wanted to use the time to clean up before supper.

Darlene had left to rekindle a long lost friendship or love affair, I had the evening to myself. Her parting words were, “Don’t jump into too many beds and if you do, save a spot for me.” I had a real affection for Darlene. She was unusual in that she was emotionally loyal while also a free spirit when it came to sex.

We were as much fellow travelers as we were lovers. Ever try to force a cat to sit on your lap against its will? It never ends well for either your lap or the cat. The night belonged to me. Frankly, I welcomed a few solitary moments.

I went to our room, changed out of my clothes, grabbed a towel, a bar of soap, and set off for one of the four community showers. Any hope of sneaking in for a quick scrub down without company ended when I entered the room.

The hour before the evening meal apparently was rush hour. Amid billowing clouds of steam, I could see the naked bodies of several females of various ages. The way the light glistened off the women’s skin sent a jolt of lust through me. The “slippery when wet” sensuality of water on bare backsides is a major turn-on.

I waited my turn by the sinks lining one wall. Out of instinct, I glanced around for a urinal to use. The designers of the women’s restroom neglected to install plumbing for men, of course. Until I learned the practices and customs of my new home, situational awareness demanded I be more mindful of my surroundings. Looking for urinals in a women’s bathroom equaled a major brain fart.

My voyeuristic presence in the shower room remained unnoticed by the ladies, so I took the opportunity to watch and relax as the sisters frolicked under clouds of steaming water. Each of the ladies shared a common physical trait with the others. In fantastic shape, the nude bodies displayed the lean and well-toned appearance of women who worked and played hard. The clothing optional dress code produced deep, bronze-colored natural tans. Even the most expensive tanning booths couldn’t duplicate the deep golden hue of a sunshine glow.

The unlimited supply of hot water didn’t lend itself to short showers. If they wanted, a person could shower the entire day without hitting cold water. Voyeurism soon gave way to impatience. At the rate things were going, I would be likely to die of old age before I got a chance to clean up. Finally, I left my towel on the sink and entered the clouds of steam with a bar of soap in hand in search of hot water.

My appearance at the center of the group elicited a short “Eek!” of surprise from Charlotte, who made an instinctive and half-assed attempt to cover herself with her hands. One of the women called out, “What are you doing in here, Dennis?!”

“Like you guys, I’m here to spruce-up before dinner,” I said.

“Well, come on in,” Charlotte beckoned to me as she regained her composure.

She was by far the tallest woman in the colony and towered over me by six inches or more. I measured in at five feet, eleven inches, but I might just as well be standing in a hole when I stood next to her.

She possessed a strong and muscular body without a trace of fat. Her lovely tanned breasts weren’t perfectly symmetrical, like many women’s. Her right boob appeared to be a half-cup size larger than her left. Charlotte didn’t shave her pubic hair or apparently anything else, unlike most of the women in the colony.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to alarm anyone. Perhaps I should schedule bathing for a another time when no else is around,” I offered.

“No, no, you’re welcome to shower with us. You startled me. I forgot there’s a male in our midst. I’m not going to start wearing clothes because you’re here. Besides, it feels kinda sexy to prance around naked in the company of a man,” Charlotte giggled. Her breasts jiggled as she bounced up and down on the tips of her toes.

“Okay, would you rather I wear clothing when I’m around in the evening, or is it alright with you if I’m as naked as everyone else?” I asked.

“Nudity is the norm around here, and you’ll need to bare your backside like the rest of us if you want to fit in,” Charlotte said with a grin. Something in her voice belied her smile. She meant every word.

I enjoyed looking at the wide variety of body types in the female landscape provided by the sisters. The whole nudity thing was kinda weird and erotic. Heck, the hidden exhibitionist in me got a thrill at the chance to strut my stuff. The objective critic in me realized I was a certifiable old fart.

I had grown a bit too comfortable in my old age, not overweight, but I tended toward the flabby side. My stomach and legs were fish’s belly pale. A box of rubber bands displayed better muscle tone than I did. If I had to run around unclad, I at least wanted to look sexy

The evening dinner, like all meals in the commune, was served buffet-style. The evening offering was beef Wellington. The sisters in the kitchen displayed some serious cooking skills. Wrapped in homemade puff pastry and an aroma of pure delight, the filet of beef tenderloin, assembled with liver pate, mushrooms, and onions indeed was fine dining worthy of a five-star eatery.

I worked my way through the serving line and took a seat at the far end of the community table. I sat down in a social twilight zone; halfway between sitting close enough to be “next” to someone, yet far enough away to be “by myself.”

The last twenty-four hours had buried me under an avalanche of new experiences, people, sights, and sounds as I tried to adjust to my new environment. My senses were on edge from operating at a level of hyper-alerted awareness. My brain was suffering from information overload, which felt like a major case of jet lag in my situation. I took long, slow, cleansing breaths, and forced myself to relax as I centered myself on the here and now. I moved my mind to a place where there was neither a past nor a future, only the moment of now was real.

With each breath I took, tension drained away from my body like an outgoing tide. I had dabbled in Zen, self-hypnosis, and meditation when I was much younger. I closed my eyes and recited my personal mantra to help me relax and center in the moment.

Seek not the storm’s fury Nor it’s jagged light. Search instead for the quiet center, and from there, stand against the night.

A voice asked, “Is this seat taken?” on the third or fourth recitation. I opened my eyes as Sheila wedged her nude body into space next to me.