The Sweat Lodge

Susan Grayson is my wife's best friend. They have known each other since college, and although markedly different in temperament, somehow, they formed a solid bond. The easiest way to describe Susan is a modern-day hippie, and with her approach to life, she would have fit in quite well in the 60s. Although she uses very little cosmetics and eschews the primping most women crave, she is still quite attractive as her natural beauty and outgoing personality more than makes up for it. She is a slender 5'8" with shoulder-length sandy hair, long legs, a fair complexion, smallish breasts, and a quirky but enticing smile.

Contrary to her friend, my wife Cary puts great effort into her appearance and always tries to look stylish. Also, she loves pampering and has a routine that includes a strict schedule around visits to her hairstylist and the nail salon. She is an inch shorter than Susan but is equally slender with raven hair that she wears just past her shoulders. Her complexion is darker and she has C-cup breasts that sit high on her chest crowned with tiny nipples.

One of the things I find interesting is that, although they differ in appearance, the similarity in their frames and the easy-going way they act around each other often lead people to believe they are sisters. Fortunately, after college, they ended up in the same city where Susan teaches elementary education while my wife works in real estate. They see each other at least once a week even if it's just for a coffee, but often it will include wine followed by a visit to our place, so I get to see her quite a bit, too.

Cary and I have been married for two years after dating for just fourteen months. We met shortly after she moved to the city and fell in love quickly. At twenty-six, I'm a year older than her and I think part of what attracted her to me was the frequent social gatherings I attended as a requirement of my job in the financial industry. Often, she would accompany me, and since she is ambitious, she liked the society scene.

Susan likes the outdoors and seems to always be hiking, biking, or camping. Constantly, she presses my wife to get more active and join her, but Cary prefers the predictability and comfort of the air-conditioned gym over time out in the elements.

"Come on girl, go biking with us," she begged while she was over one day.

"I don't have a bike," Cary countered, trying to decline indirectly.

"I'll get you a bike," her friend responded, undeterred.

"Don't those seats hurt your butt if you're not used to it?" I asked innocently.

"I don't want a sore butt," my wife jumped in, which brought an annoyed look towards me from Susan.

"Cary, you need to join me...do things with me sometimes," her friend whined, realizing she had lost the round.

Indeed, my wife did feel guilty about always saying no. She thought she was letting her friend down even though Susan had plenty of other people that joined her in her activities. Like multiple times before, the conversation finally ended with Cary agreeing that soon they would do something together.

Unlike Cary, Susan rarely showed any reluctance to join us when we were going out on the town, especially when it was a high-end function. Despite her limited interest in her appearance, she attracted men easily, and it was quite common for her to have several well-dressed young professional men clustered around. However, even though she dated often, a relationship never seemed to take. Cary was certainly proud of her friend, but I sensed from time to time a bit of jealousy around the attention she garnered with so little effort. Regardless, it was a subject I stayed well clear of.

I arrived home late one Friday and found Susan drinking wine with my wife in the backyard of our bungalow enjoying the early days of spring. Immediately, I could tell that they had a good start, and leaving them for the moment I changed and piddled around before returning a half-hour later. An empty bottle of Chardonnay sat on the table and a second, partially empty one, stood beside it.

"Please..." I heard Susan whine just as I stepped outside, and I guessed she was once again trying to convince my wife to accompany her on one of her activities.

"It sounds bizarre," Cary replied just as I sat.

"It's not. It's a native tradition," she responded, which piqued my interest.

"Susan wants me to go with her to some overnight Indian ceremony thing," my wife explained while looking at me with a silly, drunken grin.

"You can go, too," her friend quickly added.

"What is it?" I asked, confused but curious.

"A sweat lodge. It's a ceremony intended to bring out one's spirituality," Susan answered with surprising coherence.

After I gave her a look that indicated my lack of knowledge, she went on to explain that the ceremony occurred inside a small purpose-built structure intended to hold in the heat generated from stones recently removed from a nearby fire. The leader of the ceremony poured water over them creating steam that, to me, sounded an awful lot like a simple sauna. There were various rounds conducted with chanting and meditation utilized to allow one to open spiritually. Although I looked on expressionless, my mind reeled with the thought of participating in such a thing with what was undoubtedly going to be some awfully strange people. It seemed a bit out there, even for Susan, but I knew my wife wouldn't want me to brusquely decline, so I worked hard to think of a neutral response.

"Sounds unique," I said, thinking I had picked my words cleverly.

"So, you'll go?" she shot back, grasping at any non-negative opening.

"No...I didn't say that...I'm not sure it's our thing..." I stumbled to recover as my wife looked at me with a smirk.

"Damn, Cary! You'll never do anything no matter how hard I try," her friend cried out in frustration.

It was so out of character for Susan to let go with an emotional outburst, that it momentarily stunned both of us, and several seconds of silence ensued before Cary responded.

"Susan, don't be mad. Let us think about it, okay?" she said soothingly while her hand went to her friend's shoulder.

"Promise?" she replied, this time showing a vulnerability I had never seen before.

"Yes, promise," my wife answered.

Knowing it was best to leave them alone, I departed, and an hour later, I helped my wife to our bed while her friend made for the guest room. It was a late morning for both and I tried to ease their pain by preparing a breakfast of tea, muffins, and fruit. It was later that day, well after Susan had left, that Cary returned to the conversation from the previous evening.

"We need to go with her," she announced after some preliminary probing.

"Why we? Can't you go...alone?" I replied, cringing at the thought.

"You're going too," she replied in a manner that I knew meant it wasn't open for discussion.

That started the process that resulted in us in my SUV on a Saturday afternoon headed towards a location two hours from the city where the ceremony would take place on a small piece of property owned by the coordinator. It started an hour after sundown, which at this time of year meant around eight. There was the option to drive back late, get rooms at a nearby third-rate motel about thirty minutes away, or camp on the property. Fully booked, there were to be ten participants, including us, and after Susan explained that the others planned to camp, we reluctantly agreed to as well. Susan informed us she could borrow a tent that would fit everyone and we agreed on a timetable to arrive by six to have time to set up. The instructions said fasting was best after midday but to drink plenty of water so we each had a large bottle as we drove.

Fortunately, it turned out to be a beautiful day, with no forecast of rain and pleasant temperatures. Susan's borrowed tent turned out to be large enough for eight, but despite the size, we managed to erect it with only minor difficulties. After that, we filled it with our sleeping bags, and other items, including my wife's pillow off our bed. It was my one concession to her after forcing me into the ordeal as she claimed she couldn't sleep well without it. Just as we finished, a tall, slender man approached wearing a tight t-shirt and knee-length shorts.

"Hi, my name is Elan," he stated, extending his hand.

I guessed he was in his late thirties or early forties and he had his long dark hair, streaked with a few strands of gray, pulled back into a tight ponytail. Quickly, his eyes left me and as he introduced himself to Cary and Susan, I could tell he liked what he saw.

"When you finish, why don't you come over and see the lodge? We are going to start at dark, and after you have a look, I suggest you walk around the property alone, gather your thoughts, and pick a small offering for the fire," he said.

"What type of offering?" Susan asked eagerly.

"A very small thing that you feel connected to. Perhaps a petal from a flower, a leaf, or a few blades of grass. Let your spirit direct you," he explained.

I had to fight the urge to start packing the car, but since both girls were engaged in the conversation, I held my tongue. They continued to chat and Elan described the layout of the place and where we might find different plants.

"Oh, and I must ask, are either of you on your periods? It's not allowed for the ceremony," he stated, which struck me as completely inappropriate.

"No," Susan replied, and my wife's head shook, but I couldn't help but wonder what we would have done if either had answered yes.

"And be sure to bring two towels like the instructions said. I have some extras but not enough for everyone," he spoke just as he turned to leave.

"He's part Native American," Susan said when he was out of earshot as if they made him legitimate.

I merely nodded while catching the look in my wife's eyes, which told me she found this as contrived as I did. However, having given our word and with Susan's continued prodding, we dutifully checked out the main area where we saw the lodge and a nearby fire pit in a circular area near the banks of a small, shallow stream. Around the circumference of the clearing were several carvings set on poles and a small table stood off to one side. The lodge itself looked about a dozen feet across and stood chest high with heavy tarps forming the shell. Clearly, an effort had gone into making it a permanent structure which made me wonder how many groups cycled through the place.

Soon, we split up as instructed and wandered the property and after several minutes, I began to lose my cynicism as the beauty of the surroundings drew me in. I wandered through both woods and meadows and only encountered one other person who was fifty yards away. We merely nodded at each other as we passed, and on my way back, I came across a vine of wild berries and plucked a small green cluster for my offering.

I was the last one back to the tent and we showed each other our choices, milled about for a while, then walked at the designated time towards the lodge. Warned that it would be extremely hot, each of us wore loose shorts and t-shirts. It was dusk when we reached the area and the light of the fire helped illuminate the clearing which allowed us to see a collection of people all shockingly naked.

They stood nonchalantly in a small circle around the fire, and along with Elan, there were two men and three women. The sight stopped us dead in our tracks, and I could see looks exchanged between my wife and her friend followed by Susan rapidly shaking her head.

"Susan?" Cary said in an accusatory voice.

"I had no idea, really," she answered nervously.

"Come join us. Clothing is optional and there is no shaming," Elan called out, no doubt sensing our trepidation.

Despite our state, we shuffled forward, although at a much slower pace, and as we got closer, my eyes naturally wandered to the women. One was youngish with short brown hair and the other older, maybe forty, but both were pudgy. The third woman looked to be in her sixties and had shiny silver-gray hair that fell to the middle of her back and a petite body. She looked very good and I realized she must have been an absolute stunner in her youth. Done with them, I glanced at the men who were altogether average both in their physiques and sexual equipment. However, Elan was a different story. Without his clothes, we could see his slender body was well-toned and hairless, and hanging between his legs was an impressive uncircumcised cock. I guessed it to be at least 7" long and it emerged from a small thatch of dark pubic hair and hung in a lazy arc over his balls.

Looking at my wife and Susan, I caught them stealing several glances which only stopped when the final two participants arrived. They came in together, so I guessed they were a couple, and both appeared to be in their early thirties. Like us, they arrived dressed, however, as soon as Elan commented on the ceremony being clothing optional, they started to strip.

The man finished first and we could see he was in decent shape and had an average dick. His partner took a bit longer but it was worth the wait because when she finished, I received an amazing view of her voluptuous body which included full, firm breasts and a delicate shaved pussy. She oozed sexuality and my immediate thought was that she was perfectly ripe.

It was suddenly quite awkward and beside me, I could hear a hushed exchange taking place. I thought my wife would demurely decline to disrobe or perhaps beat a hasty retreat, so my second shock of the evening came when I saw Susan start on her clothes.

"Honey, maybe...please..." my wife whispered.

It took a moment for the message to register, but when it did, I felt completely floored. Cary, my normally conservative wife who took such great care in how she presented herself, now sought permission to get naked in front of this odd collection of strangers. Not only that, she wanted me to, as well. Our eyes locked and time seemed to stand still before I finally just gave my acceptance with a shrug.

Susan had mostly finished when we started, so I felt all eyes must be on us, and my thoughts quickly went to the penis size of the collected men. I knew I measured up well against everyone except Elan, but he was definitely in a different league. My wife's panties were the last article to come off and strangely I felt my dick stiffen as I thought about her showing herself to the others. There was a moment of panic as I wondered if I would be able to keep it under control, and fortunately, the moment passed.

I had of course seen Susan in a bikini and several times even in her panties, but never fully nude. I wondered if she shaved, like my wife and the others, and what her nipples looked like. However, I didn't dare look as I didn't want to upset my wife or risk forcing a surge of blood into my dick.

"Welcome everyone. In a moment, we will enter the lodge, but I always like to begin with everyone meeting like this and saying something about themselves, if comfortable. If you don't feel the desire, that's fine. Please, just say pass," Elan stated, which helped break the tension.

He went on to explain the sequence of the ceremony, that there would be four parts and that after the second many people liked to leave the lodge for a brief time, wade into the stream, and splash water onto their bodies. He described his role as akin to a spiritual guide and his strident desire was that everyone achieve their goal safely. Then, he introduced us to Frederick, a man I hadn't noticed standing behind us in the shadows, whose job it was to deliver the stones into the lodge. I could see that like the rest of us he was naked and from his position, he had an excellent view of the rears of both Susan and Cary. However, other than seeing that he looked to be Elan's age, I couldn't make out any further details.

It took only a few minutes for our guide to complete his speech, and we immediately began introducing ourselves. Some said almost nothing but several, including the older woman, spoke for some time. Her words indicated it wasn't her first time experiencing a sweat lodge, and I smiled as I thought about her probable "hippie youth". Surprisingly, my wife talked the longest as she got into the moment and explained in some detail how she hoped to gain a new perspective on herself. I smiled as she rambled thinking about how much I would enjoy teasing her later.

With that, towel in hand, we moved in a crooked line towards the small opening in the lodge which required us to enter on our hands and knees. I was behind Susan and when she leaned forward, I was suddenly staring directly at the lips of her lovely peach-fuzzed-covered pussy. Then, when she started to crawl, her lips parted and I could see her inner pinkness that I swore carried some dampness. My dick surged at the sight and I quickly fell in behind her to shield my arousal from the others, but as I entered it dawned on me that whoever was behind Cary was likely receiving a similar view of her smooth opening.

We moved around the center pit as instructed to take our positions and glancing back I could see that behind my wife was one of the non-descript men that I thought had introduced himself as Jerry. While they crawled, I could see him taking quick looks between her legs, and for some reason, rather than taking offense, I found it a bit comical. After all, we had reluctantly agreed to attend the ceremony, and now here we were in the company of a group of random naked people. It was hard not to see some humor.

Elan was the last one in and he closed the flap, pitching us into darkness, and then said, "If it becomes too much, you are free to leave although I would encourage you to try and endure. We will start with silence."

Several minutes went by as we sat in the total darkness, and then, he lifted the flap and motioned with his hand through the opening. Three times a shovel appeared with several hot stones that Frederick dropped into the center and then Elan closed the flap. For a few seconds, the glowing stones provided some illumination and as the light started to ebb, I could feel the temperature rise.

Elan directed us to place our offerings on the stones and a few created a crackling sound. When it ended, the hiss of steam indicated he had poured water onto the stones, and immediately after, he started to slowly beat on a drum while chanting in a language that I assumed must be some Native American dialect. It wasn't long before I could feel sweat beads form on my body and then roll down in rivulets. The heat continued to build and although I couldn't see Cary, I felt her place her hand on my knee. Within a few minutes, the repetitive sounds from our leader and the heat had my mind strangely drifting providing a strange sense of freedom.

I guessed we had been inside for around twenty minutes when suddenly the sound stopped and the instantaneous quiet left me momentarily disoriented, and by the gasps from the others, I guessed they experienced a similar reaction.

"You may exit for a brief period before we continue," Elan announced.

No one stirred and after a moment the shovel appeared with more stones. Quickly, Frederick's hand reappeared and handed Elan a small stick with embers on one end, then closed the opening. The hiss of steam filled the enclosure and soon a small glow allowed us to see that our guide was using the stick to light a long, wooden pipe.

"We will share the pipe and I ask you to make a prayer to the spirits. The smoke leaving your mouth signifies the delivery of your prayer," he explained.

Although it seemed a little hokey to me, it certainly didn't hurt anything, so I decided to go along with it and thought of a short prayer. The pipe slowly worked its way around the circle, and as I waited, I became more aware of the oppressive heat. Sweat now poured off me continuously and I could feel the towel beneath me getting damp.