The Retreat at Sharon's Ch. 04

"Nice pep talk, Buddha," Peter joked.

Max heard several doors swing shut upstairs, almost at once and the rest of the women made their way down the back staircase. They were all carrying yoga mats and dressed in physique hugging outfits. Carla reached out and gave Max's arm a squeeze as she walked by. Sharon patted Ken on the butt as she maneuvered around him to walk out to the pool deck.

At the back of the line, Max's heart fluttered a little as he saw Grace walk out with the new arrival, Mikela. Mikela was coaching Grace through some adjustments to various yoga positions to compensate for her very pregnant belly. He was a little disappointed when Mikela didn't acknowledge him but it seemed like the two women were just in their own world as they walked past.

Moments later, C.J. emerged. He was wearing light hiking boots and what almost looked like pressed khaki shorts and a soft pink t-shirt. He wore a pair of wayfarers to cover his eyes.

"Still dapper," Max thought. Maybe he could get some style tips before the week was out.

C.J. picked up the lone remaining water bottle and then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a tube of high SPF sunscreen and tossed it to Max.

"Trust me man, use this now and you'll look as good as Peter when you get old." C.J.'s jab at the middle aged man drew a laugh from the group. He couldn't be sure how old C.J. was, as his style and skin gave away little. The only indication was really his girlfriend, Tara, who looked like she couldn't be more than several years older than Carla and Max.

"What's the plan?" Peter asked C.J. after the laughter died down.

"I'm thinking East trail and just follow that until it meets up with the creek trail at the north end of the property. Loop back around and then we'll be back in time for lunch."

C.J. led them across the deck, past the hot tub, and then down the short flight of stairs that led to the backyard. They seemed to be headed for a trail that parted the tall weeds at the back edge of the lawn; out toward the trees in the distance.

The hike was a travelling lecture from C.J. as much as it was exercise. As they crossed from the tall grasses and into an area of burned out tree stumps that was filling in with wild flowers, he talked about a fire that threatened all the houses in the area over a decade ago and how it showed the transition of the ecology of the area. Eventually, this area would sprout shrubs and bushes, pollinated by the birds and insects in the area, but those smaller plants would eventually be pushed out by trees as they started to push back into this area.

As they walked, C.J. frequently stopped to point different flowers and distinguished the ones native to the area from the invasive varieties that had been brought into the area long ago and spread over time. He even pointed out an edible flower and broke off some petals for the men to sample. Max found it bitter and the fuzzy texture didn't sit well on his tongue. Peter didn't seem to mind as he ate the first petal and then reached down to grab another flower with the same markings.

When the group reached the creek trail, they found a couple of benches sitting along the crossroads. Peter and Ken sat down and C.J. walked toward the creek to investigate. Max stood, trying to soften his gaze like Mikela taught him, and take in as many of the different sounds and sights around him as he could. As many times as he had visited this house, he'd learned more about the ecosystem in the backyard today than in the years that he half lived here. These benches also weren't here the last time he walked this trail but that was years ago. He wondered if C.J. had a hand in setting them up. He seemed to show a lot more appreciation for this area than Max ever did.

Ken and Peter sat drinking their water. As Peter closed his bottle, he addressed Max.

"If you and Carla feel adventurous, this creek is pretty secluded. It makes for a nice place for skinny dipping. The water is kind of cold, but it just makes the experience that much more real."

"Thanks. You guys come here often?" Max asked.

"We almost always take this walk," Peter answered. "Weather permitting. One time, at another guy's suggestion, we tried wrestling in the back yard. It was some kind of macho 'take back our manliness' bullshit, but it just wore us out."

"Yeah, but it was kind of fun," Ken added.

"Yeah, because you could have suplexed anyone else there if you'd wanted."

The men chuckled but the image brought up a question Max had wanted to ask but couldn't find the words until now.

"So, do the guys here ever..."

"Ever get with each other?" Peter finished Max's thought.

"Yeah..."

"Listen, Max. If there's something you want to explore, it's important to be honest with yourself. Especially at this age..." Ken started to lecture but Max cut him off.

"No, listen, I don't like other men like that. I just didn't know what the polite thing would be to do if the subject came up."

"Always minding your manners. That's great. That's why everybody already likes you," Ken said. "The thing is, we've all been doing this for several years now. Peter and Erica have been coming here the longest, then C.J. and Tara - "

"And his previous girlfriend before her," Peter added.

"Yeah, and her... Listen, Max, we've all been naked together and we've all done things together that either doesn't attract most people or scares them. We've all had sex with each other's wives or girlfriends, sometimes some of us at the same time. I think we'd all say we almost enjoy watching our partners receive pleasure as much as we enjoy giving it to them. It's a cycle that connects all of us in which we all benefit from because someone pleasures our partner in ways we can't and then our partner is better able to pleasure us." Ken gestured in a circle to indicate the me gathered in the clearing. "None of us right here will ever be directly sexually intimate with each other but we know that everyone here is part of that cycle. Call it what you will. It's not just about banging strangers. There's a certain sexual intimacy we're looking for and we wouldn't get there if we were just getting drunk and making small talk before diving in. That's we try to practice mindfulness and yoga and it's why we take these walks. That's why it's important to really know what you want and what Carla wants."

Peter cleared his throat, "And, just to speak practically, we work hard to make sure the women are happy when we're here. That's why we sort of let them drive. They set the stage and set the boundaries and we do our best to play our part. But if you were a fly on any of our walls, you'd find out we're all talking. Maybe it's not before we go to sleep or right away when we get up, but it always happens. We're here to push our boundaries but sometimes people get jealous. So we stop and we talk. And it doesn't always work. There have been couples who became an intimate part of our little circle and then, suddenly, this just wasn't what they needed anymore. They decided they just wanted each other. And that's great. It's not weakness or cowardice if you just want to be together."

Max turned suddenly as a crack from behind him grabbed his attention. He had been so focused on listening to Peter and Ken that he'd forgotten about C.J., who was emerging from the treeline, sweat beads on his temples and the sun reflecting off his designer sunglasses.

"Sorry for butting in," he started, "but I think Peter was talking about the partners we've chosen and part of that choice is our sexual compatibility. We're attracted to these women for what they're attracted to, not in spite of it. We'd be telling an absurd lie if we said sex wasn't an important part of our relationships; we married or committed to these partners in part because we love their need for pleasure. They understand what pleases them and we want to help them explore that. And we want to push our own boundaries with them. But, from time-to-time it might seem to one of us that our partner isn't favoring us or it might seem to them that some other woman is competing a little too hard for attention."

"I get it. It's a big challenge. It's just that this is all so new to me that I don't even know what I should be wary of when it comes to Carla and me. I mean we're just exploring. We agreed we'd just keep pushing until someone says no," Max explained..

"Specifically, I was talking about Sharon," C.J. responded. "There's this sort of fetish that I think is always present. She's the mother hen. It's a little taboo, I know, even for us. It's not that she's fantasizing that we're related or anything, and we know there was a time when nearly had a legal connection with you, so we just want to make sure you're not going to freak out."

"She's just a woman, now," Max explained. "I swear, we never touched each other, never really looked at each other like it before last week. For several years, she's just been another woman. But she's also been this really hot other woman and, for years, I tried to tell myself she was just a woman I just came here to see because she had a connection to the past. It was really hard admit to myself how attracted I was to her. But, I want you to know, it's not a mother-son thing. Sure, the taboo is exciting. But how many of you ever had a babysitter whose memory kept you up at night? You know, the high school senior who kept an eye on you when you were 11? And you're eleven so you're starting to look at girls in that way but you don't quite know what it is? And then, a couple years later, you totally know what it is but she's the only woman who's ever paid any attention to you? So, you tell me, what if you got the chance to live out that fantasy? What if that woman who you caught a glimpse of in a swimsuit, just a hint of sideboob, suddenly let you do things to her that you always wanted to?"

"I think we we get it," C.J. said calmly, trying to settle Max. "We told you, we talk a lot. There can be no secrets here. I'm glad you see it that way, and I hope you know, it's kind of mutual for Sharon. She wasn't waiting you out or trying to train you or anything, but one day there was a strapping young man sleeping a few bedrooms away. Understand?" Max nodded in acknowledgement. "But what I was really trying to get to, the thing you need to understand, is that this has been Sharon's place for years. She tends to be at the center of attention because we're her guests. And she hasn't had a real partner for years. She's a single woman who's game or whatever, so it can tip the scales. She tries to keep it even, you'll actually meet Tom later, but sometimes people get jealous when she draws attention. And, with you here, she might try to establish that you're part of her... stable, just like the rest of us. So you'll have to be ready to either set boundaries with her, or you'd better be willing to give equal time to Carla. Or be ready to give her freedom. It's either that or you all have to find boundaries."

Max's head was swimming. There were plenty of times at college when a night of drinking or other intoxicants ended in them participating in a game of spin the bottle or something slightly riskier. They always agreed before playing, though. One time, Carla played spin the bottle while Max was away at a conference, at his fraternity brothers' apartment. He understood it was just a game, though. She told him afterward that it was just a way to blow off some hormones while he was away. It really didn't bother him. He'd kissed other guys' girlfriends playing spin the bottle or other drinking games and it always seemed like a dumb game to him. If she had spent a night of passion in one of their rooms, that would have been totally different.

He assumed up to now that he and Carla had an understanding; that this was a free pass for both of them so long as they knew what the other person was up to - so long as there were no secrets. The guys seemed to be putting pressure on him, though; warning him about some danger he couldn't foresee.

"Just remember, Max, it's about talking or it's about setting boundaries. And sometimes it's about both." Ken concluded in a soft empathetic tone. "I promise, we're really not trying to make you nervous, we're just trying to help you consider possibilities. We've all got big imaginations but we usually jump straight to the sex and forget that we have to be mindful of our partners and the consequences of our actions."

Max stared at the ground and kicked dirt from side-to-side with his foot, unable to find a response. He couldn't tell if they were just testing him or if they held real resentment toward him. The men stayed huddled around the benches for several moments.

"Oh, great, now his head is spinning," Pete observed.

"Oh, it's not a big deal. I'm good," Max tried to explain as he continued to fidget.

"I know a trick," C.J. offered. "Follow me." C.J. turned back toward the clearing in the trees and Pete and Ken rose from their benches. Max sensed whatever was going on wasn't optional if he wanted to earn their trust. Max shadowed C.J. as he dodged rogue branches from the large oak trees and avoided tripping on the stray logs below. He wondered why they weren't taking the path that led to the short bridge that crossed the stream. As the creek came into view ahead, he watched C.J. reach behind his ear to remove his sunglasses before slipping them into the right pocket of his shorts. Then, he reached down with both hands and pulled his t-shirt up over his head, shaking his shaggy black hair back into place after it cleared his head. The next thing Max knew, he heard C.J.'s belt buckle rattle open.

"Uh, the other guys said you didn't normally do any weird guy stuff?" Max asked, his heart starting to pound. Was this another initiation ritual like Sharon's strap-on?

"Relax, I just don't want to get my clothes wet," C.J. replied, nonchalantly. Max kept his eyes north of C.J.'s waistline as the activity leader dropped his shorts by the bank and then reached down to remove his underwear. He only caught a glimpse of the bottom of C.J.'s pale behind as he leaped into the water, feet flailing below him. The water formed a ring around C.J.'s chest as he threw his head back and his arms open. From the look of his clenching fists, this shaded section of the creek hadn't warmed up in the summer heat. C.J. howled an excited "Woo-hoo," and, before Max knew it, Pete and Ron were leaping into join him. The muddy water covered whatever lie below the older mens' waists but Max realized they probably wouldn't have cared if it were crystal clear, this was a gym locker room at this point.

"Max, get in," Pete ordered him. Pete was looking right at him but Ken was filling his hat with water and pouring it over his bald head while C.J. had turned his attention to trying to float on his back. Max couldn't tell if this was a ritual or a test but the difference seemed pointless. He kicked off his running shoes and socks, popped his belt buckle open, dropped his shorts and boxers in one motion, and reached down to the bottom of his t-shirt and tossed it off as he lept into the air.

When his chest hit the water, he thought he was having a heart attack. The wind left his lungs and refused to return after the shock of the cold water against his chest.

"Yeah, feels awesome, huh?" Pete asked him. Max used his entire right wingspan to splash the man who had ordered him into the water. He wasn't sure he could remember what it felt like to be warm at this moment and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to undo the shrinkage his manhood was currently experiencing. Pete pushed a hand out in front of him and a palm full of water came rushing at Max who quickly ducked out of the way only to let the final trickle hit C.J. on the top of his head.

"Come on. Embrace it," he urged them. Max looked back at C.J., eyes closed and body mostly submerged in the top layer of the ever-clearing creek water. It was as though the calm in his body was calming the waters around him, unashamed that his rapidly shrinking penis was floating to the surface.

In that moment Max saw what he was missing. C.J. looked at peace with the freezing spring creek water, the sun poking through tiny openings in the leaves above, and the fact that hikers could come strolling over the nearby bridge at any moment. Max spread his arms out like he saw C.J. doing, and took a deep breath as he fell backward into the water and let his legs and belly float to the surface. He closed his eyes and made peace with the cold water as it rushed into his ears. Inside the water, he entered a cave of his own consciousness. He opened his eyes and saw a small bird flutter through the canopy overhead. He felt the heat of the fugitive sun beams that slipped past the barriers of the tree leaves on his eyelids. He could only hear the muted splashes in the water of the men around him. Suddenly, his head was no longer spinning. He was not thinking about the context of the moment, he simply was focusing on the moment and, in this moment, he felt good.

****

Several minutes must have passed without Max realizing. Ken's face appeared over him blocking the tree canopy from view, and Max looked down to see his pruning fingertips and the water around him seemed to have cleared. Suddenly aware of his shame, Max stood up in the water and cupped his penis with his right hand.

"Time to head out," Ken told him.

Peter, now fully clothed but still drying, gave Max a hand as he climbed out of the creek. Someone had gathered his clothes in a pile and he turned his back to the rest of the men as he pulled his boxers and shorts back on. He immediately felt the dampness growing in his underwear as his underwear started to absorb the creek water on his skin. He slipped his shoes on without the socks, which he deposited into his left pocket and then tucked enough of his t-shirt into his right pocket to lock it in until the sun could dry off his chest and back. He gave a simple nod to C.J. to let him know he was ready to go. The men were silent on the way back to the house. The older men must have learned whatever they needed to know for now to stop grilling Max but their openness left him trusting that they wouldn't lead him astray.

They emerged from the clearing in the back yard with the swagger of conquerors returning home. The group of women on the deck were pulled back into child's pose, a signal that their session was finishing as well. As the men rounded the deck to head up the stairs, Max noticed the side of Grace's belly protruding ever so slightly from her t-shirt. It wasn't that he had never seen a pregnant woman this far along, it was just that seeing a pregnant woman doing yoga in person was a new experience to Max. His eyes soon drifted away from Grace and found Carla. He instinctively drifted over to the back of her mat, violating whatever unwritten rule separated the men's activities from the women's. He reached his hands down to the sides of her hips and helped pull them deeper into the pose, fulfilling a request she had made so many times at the end of a yoga class. She moaned.

"I think our men have returned," she softly informed the rest of the class.

One-by-one, the women sat up on their knees. They remained silent and the men continued to watch as

Mikela brought her palms to touch each other in the middle of her chest.

"Namaste," she chimed in the traditional closing acknowledgement.

"Namaste," the class repeated. Ken stepped up to the deck and helped his wife to her feet. Carla stood and turned to face Max. She hugged her arms around him and kissed him on the lips, leaving her full lips pressed against his for several seconds.

"Save some for me," Max heard Erica whisper to the couple as she passed by them to greet Peter.

"That was a long one," she commented to her husband.