Chapter 3: The Spa

It was a huge indoor spa complex fed by natural springs, with multiple sections with warmer and cooler water, with everything connected. Some of the sections were just still pools, and some that had jets, whirlpools, and the like that would go on and off on a timer. My wife and I were there with another couple, good friends of ours. It was off-season I guess, and we were almost the only ones there.

The locker room had large booths for changing (the locker room itself was co-ed, but the booths were private). My wife and I had shared a booth, and seeing her beautiful naked body, even in the most prosaic circumstances, always turns me on. But then, when my friend’s wife emerged from her booth she was wearing a very revealing swimsuit. She’s chubby, with very small breasts, and the suit was kind of ill-fitting and loose; when she bent over even a little, I couldn’t help seeing her nipples. Also, her pubic hair was obviously quite prolific as I could see the edges of it peeking around her bikini bottoms. None of this was intentional, I think; my friend’s wife isn’t all that careful about how she dresses in general and I guess the swimsuit was just another example of that. But it was killing me; I’ve always found her attractive, in a kind of mousy, innocent way, and the combination of having just seen my wife naked and now being forced willy-nilly to imagine my friend’s wife naked as I caught inadvertent glimpses of her gave me an erection that I had to hide with a towel as we walked over to the water.

There was only one person using the whole complex when we got in. It was an older woman, in her 50s maybe, with a bit of a belly but tall, blonde, and very glamorous-looking. She was wearing a ridiculously skimpy bikini. The sheer contrast between the three women, my wife, my friend’s wife and the stranger was exciting: just this range of body types, all beautiful in their own way. So I was already pretty aroused at this point. I was trying to catch glimpses of all three without being noticed staring for too long. After we’d splashed around in the water for a while, trying out different part of the spa complex, we discovered a place where strong jets of water periodically came up from the bottom of the pool. I find it hard to imagine this wasn’t designed at least in part with, um, intimate stimulation in mind, although my wife was adamant that the idea of jets on the bottom was that you were supposed to step on the water and let it massage your feet. I found that almost impossible to enjoy, though; right above the opening, the jet was so strong it was almost unbearable to put my feet over it. In fact it was strong enough that I even found it hard to stand directly above it with my feet on either side; it felt like it was painfully flattening my scrotum. By shifting a bit, I got to a point where the water was basically blasting my ass, forcing my swimsuit up into my crack. It was a nice, if somewhat odd sensation, but not exactly a source of sexual stimulation (for me personally, at least). We were all giggling about how strange the sensations were. However, a while after we’d moved on and were all trying out different parts of the spa, I noticed my friend’s wife had gone back to the bottom jets. She was spending a suspiciously long time standing right above one of them, with her eyes half closed and a blissful look on her face, and I caught on right away: what had been almost painful directly against my balls and just weird against my butt was probably a lot of fun for a woman, if positioned just right.

My cheeks were burning as I stole glimpses at her, trying not to be too obvious about it. I was morally certain that she was getting off on the jet. When it stopped — it seemed to be on a few minutes on, few minutes off cycle — she looked a little disappointed and swam away; but a few minutes later she was back there again, squirming around, looking just like she was concentrating on trying to reach orgasm. I was getting tremendously turned on, of course. I kind of wanted to go back to the bottom jets and see if I couldn’t find a position that would stimulate me, but I didn’t want to go over there and spoil her private bliss. My wife was on the other side of the complex, relaxing in the hottest pool, and our friend was just swimming around in the regular pool. I finally tried sitting on an underwater ledge in one of the warm pools right in front of a jet. Just like you, OP, I discovered that if I sat just right the water would stimulate me, although I wasn’t sitting alongside the jet but rather in front of it, with the water, if it makes any sense, going into the back of my swimsuit, under my crotch, and up past my genitals. The jet was aimed kind of downward - hard to describe but definitely not the same as in a Jacuzzi. Again I have to wonder if the designers didn’t know exactly what they were doing.