Rub-a-dub-dub in a Vail Hot Tub

Kristy, my granddaughter, was so happy with herself because she'd learned a new nursery rhyme. She kept saying it over and over as she played house with her dolls. I had to smile, both because at four years old, she was so damned cute, and also because of a time in my youth that rhyme made me remember.

That December, I found myself at a ski resort in Vail for a week of skiing. I hadn't really wanted to go skiing, but my roommates insisted I'd have a great time. They said if I didn't like skiing, there would be sex and a lot of it.

"Man, there'll be pussy walking around all over just begging to get laid. That's what they go there for -- to get laid."

"You haven't lived until you've been in a hot tub with a few sexy snow bunnies in bikinis. They take off their tops, you know, and if you get 'em really hot, the bottoms too. It'll be rub-a-dub-dub with the girls in the tub. They'll be wanting a cock so bad they'll almost fuck you right there."

Somehow, I doubted the women at any ski lodge would be quite so accommodating. It wasn't that I'd been skiing before and knew that to be the case. It was just that in my limited experience, I'd yet to meet the woman who said she wanted to be fucked in a hot tub full of other people. I was also pretty sure there wouldn't be any women stripping in any hot tub unless they were drunk out of their minds. I like a woman to be relaxed, but I like her to be able to do more than lay there and pass out just when things start to get fun.

They'd badgered me for weeks until I finally relented. I had the money and did need to get away from work for a while. I jokingly said I'd go if only so they'd have someone to bail them out of jail if they got out of hand.

It was a frigid, sloppy wet Sunday morning in Nashville when we got on the plane for Vail. As I buckled my seat belt I asked myself how I could be so stupid as to let myself get talked into something like this.

The ski resort was nice, but then, for two grand for the week it should have been. That two grand didn't include a lot of other things either. If you didn't have skis and ski boots, they would happily rent them to you for somewhere between a hundred and two hundred dollars depending on if you wanted ordinary or professional. Don't know how to ski? We'll fix you right up for another two-fifty, four hundred if you need a second day. Yes, you can climb back up a hill with skis on, but it's easier and faster to ride the lift. They would gladly sell me lift tickets for only a couple hundred more.

Since I'd never been on a pair of skis, I didn't need lift tickets, but I did need skis and ski boots and some instruction. The slender blonde girl in a tight sweater got me all set up and smiled when I handed her my credit card.

"The beginner lessons start out front tomorrow morning at ten. You can pick up your skis and poles here then. The instructor will show you how to put them on, and then teach you how to ski. You'll be gliding down the slopes before you know it."

That night at dinner, my roommates were full of talk about this girl or that girl they'd seen, how big her breasts were, whether she smiled at them or not, and which ones were likely to hop in the sack with them. I ate my dinner and laughed at all the right places while I did some people watching of my own.

I've always found some things about women to be odd. I mean, I really, really like women, but some of the things they do are hard to figure out. I've never understood why a woman can't seem to go to a public restroom by herself unless she's married and sometimes not even then. Single women always seem to go in two's or more.

Another thing I've never figured out is what I was seeing at dinner that evening. There were several groups of girls sitting together. I figured they'd come together just like my roommates and I had. In each group there would be one or two girls who would qualify as beautiful, sometimes even fashion model beautiful. They were dressed to attract a man's eyes, and they wore makeup that made them look sensuous and mysterious.

In each group, most of the other girls were definitely pretty, just not fashion model pretty, if that makes any sense. These girls also dressed to attract attention, and they used makeup as well. Any guy would have been eager to give them the attention they sought.

Then there was at least one girl in the group who didn't seem to fit in. She'd be smiling and laughing and talking with the group, but her clothes didn't exactly accent any figure she might have had, and she seemed to not know about lipstick, mascara and all that other stuff women use. She wouldn't be ugly or anything like that. She'd just be sort of plain. I figured she was there like I was. She came along without much hope of having fun, but her friends had talked her into it.

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The next morning, I had breakfast in the lodge and then got ready for the ski lesson. About a quarter 'til ten, I walked to the lodge and picked up my skis and poles.

The instructor was a guy who looked like he must have been born on skis. He glided effortlessly up to the group of men and women assembled in front of the lodge. You could almost hear the heartbeats of the women speed up when he took off his sunglasses. He was tall with the rugged good looks you'd expect from a ski instructor - one of those beards that looked only about a week old, and a smile right out of a toothpaste commercial. He wore a ski outfit like you see on the Winter Olympics, and it fit tight enough to prove he was in good shape. From the whispered conversations I heard around me, I figured he could have his choice of any woman in the group.

"God, he looks hot. Maybe I'll ask him about a private lesson...in my room."

"I think I'll fall down and let him pick me up. Maybe feeling my boobs'll give him the same idea I'm having right now."

"I wonder how his beard would feel on my legs. I'd love him to do that to me...at least first. I bet what came later would be great too."

I figured the ski instructor had ended my chances for any woman at least for a day or two until he sorted them out and found the one or ones he wanted. I'm not tall, my smile is just OK, and I don't have a beard. I'd be like eating hamburger when you really have your mind set on a steak. I resigned myself to learning how to ski.

Skiing didn't look difficult. It was, at least for me. I managed to get the snowplow down pretty well, so I could at least slow down. The beginner's slope wasn't all that much of a slope, but I still practiced slowing down a lot. It worked pretty well until something happened and I ended up falling down. My skis went over my head and then dug into the snow. I felt a stabbing pain in my right ankle.

The ski instructor showed me less concern than he did when the redhead in her green ski outfit fell on her ass. He'd carefully helped her up and checked both her legs from ankle to thigh for injuries. He just looked at me and frowned.

"You caught an edge and went over. Do what I showed you and it won't happen again."

He went back to helping the redhead then. I took off my skis and limped back to the lodge. The same slender girl at the ski rental counter gave me a partial refund and said I should probably go to the first aid station to make sure I hadn't broken anything. The guy there looked at my ankle, said I'd just sprained it, and gave me a stretchy sock thing to wear. He said I'd be fine in about a week if I didn't twist it again. I hobbled back to my room and watched television until lunch. It looked as if I'd be watching a lot of television before the week was up.

I took the shuttle into Vail for lunch. Lunch wasn't included in my package deal and I thought the restaurant was a bit pricey for just a salad and a sandwich, but it was good. I took the bus back to the lodge and watched more television.

My buddies banged on my door about five.

"Hey man, we found you some pussy. We met two girls this afternoon, and we're gonna have dinner together. They have a third girl with them, and she's for you. After dinner, we're gonna play in a hot tub. Hurry up and change clothes."

I knew what that "she's for you" meant. It meant I'd be stuck for the night with either a plain jane or a girl who was a lot filled out in all the wrong places. She'd probably giggle all the time too.

I figured I'd just try to make it through dinner. If she was all that bad, I could say my ankle was hurting and head back to my room. It would be a rotten thing to do to any woman, but I didn't fancy entertaining anybody while watching my buddies play with two hot girls.

The three girls they'd met were about like the groups of girls I'd watched the night before. Two of them were definitely hot -- a blonde with an ass that did some wonderful things when she walked up to our table and a brunette with really big tits. The third, also a brunette, would have turned a few heads if she'd dressed as well as the other two and did something with her hair. Swivel Hips and Big Tits wore tight dresses with stockings and heels. This one wore jeans and an oversized sweatshirt with running shoes. Her dark brown hair hung down her back in a ponytail held together by one of those stretchy cloth rings.

It was pretty obvious who was with whom. When Jack held out his arm, the blonde snuggled up against his side. The big-breasted brunette did the same with Kirk, and she pushed her big left tit into his arm. The brunette in the sweatshirt just smiled at me, and the smile looked forced. Jack introduced me and she smiled again, but she looked like she wished she was someplace else.

When the blonde introduced them all, I learned Swivel Hips was Rochelle and Big Tits was Valerie. The third was Crystal. Crystal took a chair at the table beside me, and after the waitress took our order, turned to me and smiled again. Her smile didn't seem quite so forced this time, but I chalked that up to the hope she wouldn't ignore me for most of the evening.

"Your name's Ian, is that right? Your friend Jack talks pretty fast and I wasn't sure I caught your name."

"Yes, I'm Ian."

"What do you do for a living, Ian?"

"I'm an engineer."

She smiled again.

"So, what does an engineer do when he's not out skiing for a week?"

I chuckled.

"I really don't ski. I did try this afternoon and sprained my ankle, so I won't be skiing any more. I really just came along to keep my buddies out of trouble."

Crystal sighed.

"Same here. I'm not into all that physical stuff like jogging and aerobics, and I can't see myself sliding down some hill on two little boards. Rochelle said Vail is beautiful this time of year, and that there were guys all over the place. I'm not looking for a guy, but I do like being outdoors, so I came. I don't drink much, so they think I'll be their chaperone. They don't really want one, but I suppose it makes them feel better to think I'm here to rescue them if they need rescuing."

Our food arrived about then, so Crystal and I spent most our time eating instead of talking. After dessert, Ray suggested we all go to the hot tub. Well, what he said was, "Last one in the hot tub has to buy a round of drinks", but Vaierie grinned.

"You have to give us time to get into our suits. Girls can't just strip and pull on a pair of trunks, you know. We have things we need to do."

"OK, we'll give you all the time you want. The last guy in the hot tub has to buy the drinks. That better?"

Valerie grinned again.

"You won't be sorry. I promise."

I looked at Crystal and she shook her head.

"No, I'm not getting into a hot tub with three horny guys. I don't like being mauled."

"Well, it'll be only two. I'm not doing it either. The first aid guy gave me a sock thing I'm supposed to wear unless I'm sleeping. I don't want to get it wet."

Crystal smiled at me.

"Since it looks like we're going to be together as long as they are I suppose we might as well make the best of it. Watching them play touchy-feely won't be much fun. What would you like to do?"

"That sounds like you really don't want to be with me. If you really don't, it's OK. I don't like blind dates much either. I'll just go back to my room."

"No, it's not that. I'm just not into the whole girl-guy search until you find that special someone and sleep with all the rest along the way. I tried that once and it didn't work out well. I think if it's gonna happen, it'll happen no matter what I do. If it doesn't..."

She shrugged.

"If it doesn't, I'll still have Maxwell. He's my cat."

"I like cats too. Why don't we get a glass of wine and find someplace to talk."

She smiled again, and this time it looked genuine.

"If you'll make that a cup of coffee, you got a deal."

We talked about a lot of things that night. Crystal was an accountant. She thought that would bore me. I assured her accounting wasn't any more boring than being an engineer. We talked about both our jobs. We talked about Maxwell. We talked about Louisville, Kentucky where she worked and we talked about Nashville, Tennessee where I worked.

Before we realized, it was eleven. Crystal looked at her watch and said she really needed to get some sleep. I walked her to her room, and when she said good night, she touched my arm.

"I did have a nice time tonight. Once Rochelle picks out a guy, she usually sticks with him for a while, and Valerie will follow her lead so they'll probably be together all week. It was kind of nice being with a guy who isn't just looking to get me into bed. Since neither of us ski, any thoughts about tomorrow?"

Tuesday was a bus ride into Minturn. Before lunch, we did some shopping. Well, Crystal did some shopping while I tagged along. Lunch was a pizza for which Crystal insisted paying her half, and then we took the tour of the Minturn Winery. We had dinner together with Jack, Kirk, Rochelle and Valerie, but we might as well have been just the two of us. Crystal wouldn't let me pay for her dinner that night either.

It looked to me like Jack was right about skiing and sex. There was a lot of touching going on during dinner, and Rochelle giggled when Jack asked if they were up for some more fun in the hot tub.

"Sure. Last night was fun. You have soft hands, did you know that? A little grabby, but soft."

Rochelle put her hand beside her mouth and spoke in a fake whisper.

"I didn't mind you being grabby at all."

Crystal just rolled her eyes. It took a little effort on my part to not laugh.

That evening, it was cocoa beside a fire pit and some more conversation. I guess because we'd spent the day together, Crystal felt she could be more open with me. We talked a little about our families.

Crystal's mother had divorced her husband when Crystal was three. She didn't remember seeing her father before or since. From what she told me, it had been a struggle for her mother to raise a daughter on what her job as a cook paid. Crystal had understood that struggle a few years later, and had decided she would always be financially independent. That vow was the reason she'd worked her way through the University of Kentucky. Now, she was helping her mom out, though her mother didn't want her to.

Crystal's mother thought she should be married by now. Crystal chuckled when she told me that.

"Mom thinks since I'm still single and twenty five, it means I'm gonna be an old maid. I keep telling her women marry later now than when she was young but she won't listen. She's just worried I'll wait too long. How did she put it? Oh yeah - my flower will stop blooming. I think she just wants a baby or two to cuddle and spoil."

"Yeah, my mom's the same way. She keeps asking if I'm dating any girls and what they're like. I've told her a hundred times I haven't found a woman who could put up with me yet."

Crystal smiled.

"So, you're saying you're difficult to live with?"

"No, not really, at least I don't think so. I guess I am a little analytical about things though. My mom's an artist, and she's never looked beyond what was right in front of her in her entire life. She also thinks I'm too organized. When I lived at home, I kept all my shirts and pants on hangers in my closet, and my socks were all rolled up in pairs in my dresser drawer. I still do. Mom's idea of organizing her clothes is to remember where she took them off the last time. I was taking her bras off the shower curtain rod before I knew what bras were for."

Crystal laughed then.

"I can understand why she'd find you a little difficult because I'm a little bit the same way. I can analyze financial statements all day long, but when I get home, I just want to relax. Relaxing means relaxing, not making sure all my stuff is in the right place."

She grinned at me.

"I don't hang my bras from the shower curtain, though. I hang them over the back of the chair in my bedroom."

When I walked Crystal back to her room that night, she stopped at the door.

"You think we could do something again tomorrow?"

"I imagine so. There's supposed to be an art museum in Minturn. I have enough of Mom's artist in me to like art. Maybe we could go after breakfast?"

Crystal smiled.

"I think I'd like that."

The next three days were the same -- different places but the same sightseeing as before. We went to the art gallery, ate at the Minturn Saloon, and visited the Colorado Ski Museum. In between trips to town, we sat in the lounge and talked some more or walked around in the cold watching people ski or doing what they did when they weren't skiing. Mostly, the not-skiing activities centered around the guy-girl thing Crystal didn't like. Thursday night, she told me why.

"It's not that I want to stay single forever. I don't, or at least I don't think I do. Oh damn, I really don't know anymore. I watched Mom scrimp and save all those years because my dad was a jerk and couldn't keep his pants zipped. I don't want to end up like that. I won't have the money problem she did, but I could tell she wasn't very happy being alone.

"I did meet a guy once who I really liked and I thought he liked me. We dated for a while before...well, he was the first. Once that happened, he decided we should see other people. I knew the girl he was dating after that. I didn't like her, but I knew her. Once we broke up, she bragged to everybody about how she was sleeping with him while he was dating me. I felt...I'd always heard the term 'used', but until then, I didn't really understand.

"That's when I got Maxwell. He was pretty good at listening to me when I told him what I liked and didn't like, and he didn't want anything from me except for me to feed him and change his litter box.

"I guess I'm just still mixed up in the head. If I try to look nice, it always ends up with the guy trying to convince me to sleep with him. If I look like I do now, no guy will even notice me and that feels almost just as bad. Pretty messed up, huh?"

I wasn't sure what Crystal wanted me to say. I could tell she was looking for some reassurance about herself, but I didn't want her to think I was like the other men she'd just told me about.

"Crystal, there's nothing wrong with you except you got hurt. I understand, a little. The same thing has happened to me, like it does to all guys. Most of us just get used to it."

"You sleep with a woman and then she dumps you?"

"I suppose that may happen to some men. It's never happened to me. What happens to me is the girl acts like she's enjoying being with me, but as soon as I start getting closer to her, she decides I'm not really what she's looking for. I came to the conclusion a long time ago those girls just want the attention they get when they're dating. They have no intention of ever becoming one guy's one girl. That always happens before I get to the sleeping part. Some of them have even come on to other guys when they're out with me."