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Chapter 38 - Coming Clean

Soon everyone had gotten the car unloaded. Barbara and Peter, being old hands at this, had given Terence and Tamara a list of what to bring—and more importantly, what not to bring. Prominent in that second list was clothes; they wouldn’t need much clothing. One of the dances in August was themed Polynesian and dressing up in costumes was encouraged, Barbara had told them. If the costume was a bit revealing, so much the better.

They had brought food and beverages; Peter and Barbara told the others that while the restaurant and lunch-stand food was quite good, it was pricy. Peter’s parents and their other relatives would be providing most of the meals, so the four friends brought enough food and drinks for two weeks of lunches and lots of snacks. And several cases of bottled water.

“We all need to keep hydrated,” Barbara had told them.

High on the “must take” list were sun screen, spare towels, sun glasses, and a hat or two. Cover-ups were recommended for Tamara (“Nudist or not, sometimes it can get chilly at night,” Barbara had told her). Slip-ons or sandals for the pool area, sneakers for playing any sports or going on a run, and sturdy shoes if they wanted to hike the nature trail. Tamara brought her laptop but promised that she’d keep her working on it to a minimum. She wanted to keep in touch with the patent attorneys since she had developed the details of her latest discovery into two more patent applications.

Earlier that week, together with one of Emma’s engineers, she had finished developing a chip which seemed stable and, when energized, could reliably produce the powerful repulsive or magnetic field she had observed. But further work needed to be delayed until the techs working on the fabricator could produce a few dozen for scale-up and destructive testing—this was to learn the operational limits of the circuit. Tamara brought her thoughts back to the present; Barbara was trying to get her attention. They had just finished putting the food away.

“I said, do you want to hit the pool for a bit and then have lunch out there?” Barbara asked. “The guys are stowing the coolers in the car so they won’t be in the way in here. These cabins are nice but they have zero storage space.”

“Okay, that should be interesting. What do I need to take?”

“Your towel. Always have a towel wherever you go. For the pool, having a second towel is handy. One to lay on and one to dry off with. Sun screen and sunglasses. A hat if you want. And a bottle of water. Keeping hydrated when it’s hot is important.”

Soon the four friends were walking off to the pool.

When they got to the gate at the pool, Peter told his guests, “Let’s grab some lounge chairs and dump our stuff. Then we need showers—using soap. We frown on people who just let the shower water get them wet and hardly use any soap. The idea is to wash off your skin oils and sun screen. That keeps the pool water clean and helps with its chemical balance. You can shower outside there, or inside if you prefer.”

Tamara looked at the showers on the side of the building and at the man and woman who were soaping themselves up, and giggled, “I’ll go outside. For the experience. Jeez, I never thought that I’d ever be taking a public shower.”

They showered and then went into the pool.

“Oooh, nice,” Tamara said as she slid off the side into the deep end while Peter cannon-balled in next to her.

Terence also jumped in but Barbara just sedately used the ladder.

“Wow,” Terence exclaimed. “This feels awesome. Better’n Emma’s pool, actually. Jeezus, no wonder skinny-dippin’s so popular.”

Barbara laughed, “I never asked you. You never did this as a kid?”

“Never. Where Ah grew up, there weren’t any likely spots close enough,” he answered.

Peter had paddled back to Tamara and asked her, “What’ya think, sweetie?”

“Damn, it’s really nice. The water feels like silk on my skin, not like Emma’s pool.”

“Oh, right,” Peter said. “This is a salt-water pool. Emma’s uses chlorine—that water feels harsher, somehow. Instead of putting chlorine directly into the water, there are electrolysis cells that break down the salt in the water to generate chlorine so the chlorine levels tend to be less harsh.”

Several minutes later, a few teen girls came to the pool; Barbara knew them and introduced everyone. Then they had lunch at the lunch stand. After lunch, Peter suggested a walk around the grounds and by this time, Tamara had lost count of the number of people she had been introduced to. It was afternoon; the sun was hot; yet there were plenty of people playing on the various courts. They watched part of a tennis game and a highly competitive péntaque game. Tamara was fascinated by the pickleball game that she watched. Then Barbara suggested a game of minigolf.

“Don’t bet on this with her,” Peter joked. “She’s a shark.”

Sure enough, Barbara beat them all handily.

And Tamara realized that ever since they had left the cabin that morning, she had completely forgotten that she was nude. She mentioned that to Peter, who hugged her happily.

“That’s really great, honey. So coming early was a good idea?”

“Oh yeah. Now it’ll feel like your family will be coming into my space, rather than the other way around. Does that make sense?”

“Sure it does. The resort and people here won’t be new to you, only my family, so it’s like they’ll be your visitors. You have the control of the situation, in a way,” Peter told her.

After dinner, they heard music and noticed some people dancing in the Pavilion, so they went over there. Even though it was still quite warm outside, there were about a dozen couples and they had brought a Blue-tooth speaker and were playing tracks from someone’s phone. Barbara and Peter knew several couples so they all chatted for a while and danced a few times. Tamara even danced with Terence several times, and when, on one of Terence’s dance moves, Tamara felt a soft, wet thwack on her hip, she giggled and poked him in the ribs.

“Jeez, Ah’m sorry...” he began.

“Oh, no, don’t be,” she laughed. “When that happened, I got the weird thought, ‘I’m being beaten by a wet noodle,’ so either you’re getting a bit aroused and leaking...”

Terence gasped in shock and checked himself; then he chuckled, “Damn sweat. Yeah, my cock’s wet. Not what y’all thought. And Ah resemble y’all’s suggestion that it’s a noodle. Most gals referred t’ it as a wreckin’ bar.”

The two of them began laughing and of course that attracted the curiosity of some of the nearby dancers.

“Hey buddy,” a guy, who had introduced himself as “Jim,” asked, “what’s the joke?”

A few others came closer. When Tamara told them what had happened and what Terence had said, there was more laughter, and several of the girls told him that they thought that he looked simply awesome and his endowment was just stunning. And none of the guys made any off-color comments other to say that his high-school dates must have been twits not to appreciate him. Terence was walking a mile high after hearing those comments. After a while, the group began to break up and the four friends decided to get showers before returning to their cabin.

After the shower and while they were walking back, Tamara asked Peter, “Is this how everyone is here? So friendly and open?”

“Pretty much. When I was in high school, visits out here helped me keep my sanity. I had this awful dichotomy I had to constantly face. In school, the Program was running with all of its compulsion and coercion and all those negative emotions beating on me. Anguish, fear, even panic, from a lot of kids. I hated Mondays; new kids were called then, so I could feel everyone’s dread; then kids were called and another round of fear began. Even hysteria in some cases. But on the other side of the coin, coming here, when people got nude, there was serenity, happiness, and pleasure. Respect. No demands that naked people do repugnant things or allow others to do them to themselves. My visits here fortified me for when I had to be back in school, and I was able to use the images from here to help me deal with what I saw in the school.”

“Jeez, that’s an awful picture you’re giving me,” Tamara said. “Your empathy did you no favors. Is it still as strong? I can feel how you respond to people here; you seem to reflect their happy feelings when you greet them.”

“It took me three years, but by my senior year, I had mostly figured out how to throttle down some of the worst of it. Of course, in my senior year, I wasn’t in high school every day; I was in that advanced college program, so I had those classes away from the school two days a week. That was good, because Barbara wasn’t in high school that year; she was in college. She was my lifeline for those three years and would help me whenever I began to feel overwhelmed.”

They had gotten to the cabin now, but stopped to talk on the porch. They sat on a twin seat swing outside there as Terence and Barbara went inside.

“What exactly did you feel?” Tamara asked.

“I guess I made a mistake with Amy. We had opened our emotions to each other and I got carried away. I loved being attuned to her feelings and that she could feel mine. And then things changed when we got to high school and the Program began. It was bad right from when it started. The first assembly, where they made kids strip, was awful and some of those kids were actually volunteers—they did it to get it over with. During the entire fall term, the emotions I felt were bothersome and made me withdraw a lot and I know that the teachers noticed. It was really bad for Amy, though, and that also affected me, so I kept close to her to support her. And those things we did together to help us in dealing with all that abuse crap we saw was probably the reason they picked the two of us.

“It was on that Monday morning when they called both our names that I finally came unglued. I had such a strong empathic bond to Amy that her panicked response cut me to my soul. I told you about that when we were at Emma’s house that first time. Fortunately, after that state cop’s visit, they did leave me alone. Completely. The teachers let me be and if I couldn’t stand the Program sights, like if a teacher was using a kid in the classroom, I’d just go to the library for that period. And if a class had a Program kid in it, I’d arrive five minutes late to miss the relief show. No one said a word about that—must have been that trooper’s threats ‘cause they really let me be. I had really good psychological help too and the shrinks I saw were able to help me see that how I responded showed that I had an extremely strong moral sense and my reactions were protective measures, not a mental illness.”

Tamara hugged him. “I’m glad it’s all over for you and also that the Program is all done with too,” she said.

“Yeah... and my cousins—you’ll meet them tomorrow—told me that their local high school stopped it last year. Finally.”

“Were they ever in it?” Tamara asked.

“They live in Frederick now. Mike had just started as a freshman just after they stopped it. He said that in the year before he got to high school, many kids were refusing even then. Janice is a college senior like us, but she didn’t go to high school in the U.S. Uncle Dave and the family were in Germany then and now he’s stationed at Ft. Detrick. So, no. Hey, you told me that you’d spill some of your ‘state secrets,’ remember? The ... ah... mischief you got into.”

“Sure. A big part of who I am is my religion and my so-called ‘mischief’ stems from that—from our religion’s teachings. I told you a little about Vodou and how it’s been criminally misrepresented for over two hundred years or so.”

“Yeah, I remember. It’s nothing like the movies make it out to be.”

Tamara nodded. “Or even the touristy areas of New Orleans, either. Vodou’s a religion that has roots in west Africa and when the slaves who were brought to Haiti tried to continue observing it, their overseers began stopping its practice, so in response the slaves combined it with a lot of similar elements in Catholicism and they were allowed to practice that version. It’s not a formal religion in that there’s no hierarchy; the priests and priestesses teach others in a kind of apprenticeship.

“Okay. So an important part of our Vodou beliefs is how people must act with each other, how they work together socially as individuals and groups. We believe in a very strong commitment to service and justice and the respectful treatment of those who are needy. My mom, as a priestess, embodied those values and I adopted them as well.

“Next, in Vodou, we believe that a spirit world exists and we can interact with it and the spirits who occupy it. We call them lwa; I mentioned them to you. But the most important part of this is that the lwa actually exist; probably not as actual physical entities but as human-generated actualities. In other words, they don’t seem to exist unless people will them into existence. We do that through meditation and our worship rites. Now, I have a skill or ability to call on the lwa that may seem to be like a superpower... don’t look at me like that; you have something like it too.”

“What? That’s crazy! What the hell do you mean? I don’t have a superpower!”

“Sure you do. You’re a super-empath. So apparently was Amy. And Emma’s a super-charismatic, or whatever the word is. Listen. You know that sometimes a person will come into a busy room and everyone stops talking and looks to see who came in?”

“Sure. That describes Emma,” Peter said.

“And consider yourself. You told me that you just about collapsed when Amy was roughed up after being stripped. You felt what she did, right?”

“Um, well... yes...”

“Plus you felt the terror of other kids that were forced to strip. Know anyone else like you? Besides Amy.”

“Um, well... no...”

“So what would you say if I told you that I could do both what Emma does and what you do and also make people experience those emotions?”

“Um, well... freak out time! Tamara, what are you saying?”

“Just this: when I was little, I figured out that I could quote, ‘do stuff,’ unquote,” Tamara explained. “It started when I didn’t want to be disturbed—I was maybe seven or eight. I’d be reading a book and didn’t want to be bothered, so I made it so that I wasn’t. To my parents or other people around me, I wasn’t there. When I suddenly popped up, it scared the hell out of them. I also found that I could affect people’s emotions and stuff when they were close.”

“How can that be? This is crazy. Really?” Peter asked.

“Ah, a demonstration is in order. Please don’t get mad, okay?”

“What are you do... shit, is that you? Stop!” Peter exclaimed.

Tamara had “pushed” a faint yellow taste to him.

“Peter, I sent a ‘fear’ emotion to you. Now bear with me...”

She gathered a greenish-brown taste and “pushed” that and Peter began looking around wildly.

“Where are we?” he gasped. “Why am I naked? Why are you naked? What’s going on?”

Tamara removed the tastes.

“I just gave you ‘confusion.’ See? In very limited ways, I can send different emotions to people, but I can also sense their emotions too...”

Peter interrupted, “Jeez, that’s so crazy. Damn, Tamara, but that’s a fuckin’ powerful superpower. You could rule...”

Now Tamara interrupted him, “Nope. Never. I can’t use it for evil or personal gain. I told you that the lwa, our spirit mentors, so to speak, allow me to use that ability but I know with absolute certainty that if I misuse it, it will be gone. When I used it in the past, it was always to help those who needed help—or to put evil right.”

“Jee... zus. This is so fuckin’ crazy. Do you know how it works, though?”

“No, but I’m getting ideas. What I sense seems to me to be like tastes, but now I think it’s more like odors, and they have a kind of color that makes up part of what I sense. But my eyes don’t see anything. I read in a medical text that there’s a term for sense confusion, ‘synesthesia’; this is usually used to describe the ability to see colors or hear sounds when smelling certain odors. I kinda ‘hear’ the colors too. My mom told me that Granmanman could see people’s auras and a lot of my ability is like hers was, apparently. I’ve done a lot of reading about electrical activity in the brain, neurotransmitters, and pheromones. I got involved with MRI stuff ‘cause I learned that it could show how brains worked and that building better MRIs could help others.

“So in a roundabout way, I’ve come to where I can describe how my ability works... maybe. Still interested?”

“Oh yeah. This is so crazy, Tamara.”

“It sure is. Okay. My mental control—emotion control is more accurate—is fairly close range. If I want to affect someone, I need to make a huge mental effort to, um, I think of it as ‘gathering a taste of a certain color,’ and the color, I guess, is just a tag for the emotion I want to project. It feels like a taste to me, but perhaps it’s really an odor and I’ll explain that in a bit. Then I focus on the target for the emotion and ‘push’ the taste to him. If it’s a pure emotion, like I did with you, then that’s all. The person reacts. How strongly seems to be a personality trait of the person. For example, an evil person will have an intensified response to an emotion which resonates with his evilness. I’m not being boring, I hope.”

“Oh, no. Please. This is crazy.”

“Some emotions have no defined, um, object? Yeah, that’s a good word. Like compulsion. Compulsion for what? So some of the tastes I can ‘push’ have an apparent hypnotic effect; they make the subject open to suggestion, like supposedly happens in hypnosis, so I need to speak a direct suggestion. Now only if that suggestion doesn’t conflict with the target’s personality or morals or whatever, they will very likely do what I suggest. So see? If someone’s conscience or whatever thinks that my suggestion was improper, it would have no effect. That’s why I can’t use the ability to rule the world,” she giggled.

“Still, it’s an awesome power,” Peter said.

“It is, and I did some cool stuff with it too,” she agreed. “I’m still working out how my body makes it happen, though. There can’t be any magic here, since the universe is ruled by physical laws—and that’s cool too, since the term lwa—it’s Haitian Kreyòl and means ‘spirit’—is derived from the word ‘law,’ but also resembles the Tswana language term ‘to bewitch.’ My first hint that there’s something organic about my ability came from an MRI session. It was a scan when I happened to use my ability, and an atypical and completely unexpected part of my brain lit up. It was along my olfactory tract going up to my hippocampus, amygdala, and hypothalamus. That area basically is the limbic system and it processes emotions and memories, to simplify things greatly. Tastes travel to the brain using different pathways than odors, but the brain areas that process both senses are close to each other.

“But the most significant thing about my taste-smell link that I learned in my reading is that humans mostly rely on what’s called ‘retronasal’ smell, especially when it comes to describing flavor—much of what we consider flavor is actually retronasal smell.”

“And what’s retronasal smell?” Peter asked.

“Oh, sorry. In my lecture mode, I forget to define stuff. That’s when air originating in the mouth is forced into the nose through the passage where the nasal cavity joins the throat. That air carries the odorized air molecules from the food being eaten into the nasal cavity and the olfactory nerves carry that information to the brain. When we say food ‘tastes’ good, what we’re really sensing is its retronasal smell. So I’m assuming that my sensing tastes is really an olfactory function, and that’s why my brain MRI picked up the activity from the olfactory bulbs to the piriform cortex—that’s the part of the limbic system involved in perception of smells. The amygdala is central to that area. Am I boring you yet?”

“No way. You sure you’re a physicist—engineer—you’re... hell, a medical student too?” Peter laughed.

“No, and yes. All the above. Just someone in search of an answer. Biochemist and endocrinologist too, ‘cause that’s where my studies took me next. When I realized that I needed to explain to myself where my ability came from, I recalled something from my biology class about pheromones in nature. Both plants and animals have chemical signaling systems—so why not humans? When I looked into human pheromones, I read that people can unconsciously tell if someone is scared because they can sense it; their olfactory system senses something in their body secretions like sweat—pheromones. So pheromones are biological chemicals that the body produces and they act like hormones in the person whose olfactory system detects them. That’s when I started to look into how the brain directs the body to produce hormones and it turns out that the pituitary gland has a big role in that, but other endocrine glands, like the gonads, do that too.

“One kind of secretory gland—present in the armpit and groin—they’re called apocrine glands—may produce something like pheromones and those glands become active at puberty, so the person’s gonadal hormones turn them on. But the apocrine glands aren’t the best possibilities. One reason is that, although a lot of researchers think that they may possibly produce sex pheromones, most people in northeast Asia don’t have smelly armpits. That’s one fifth of the world’s population. So those people’s apocrine glands, unlike those of most people of European and African descent, secrete only tiny amounts of the lipids and proteins that skin bacteria break down to make the bad smell.

“I found that the better possibility for a human secretory pheromone gland may be the sebaceous glands. A strong argument can be made for those as a source gland, since in most other mammals, it’s those glands that are most involved in chemical communication, so they should have that function in humans as well. They also have a much wider distribution throughout the body than apocrine glands. For my work, the parts of the body of greatest interest are those with a high concentration of sebaceous glands; those are the scalp, face, and forehead. And there are specialized sebaceous glands located on the lips, nostrils, eyelids, and even in the ear canals.

“I looked for other hormone-producing cell possibilities and came across a class of cells, the neuroendocrine cells, which release hormones into the blood in response to stimulation of the nervous system. These cells are found throughout the body but the major neuroendocrine organs are, guess what? The hypothalamus—part of the limbic system, and the pituitary, which gets its chemical signals from the hypothalamus. I’ve told you that my limbic system is strongly activated when I use my ability. So my current working theory is that my hyperactive limbic system signals the neuroendocrine cells in my body to secrete pheromones, whose chemical structure triggers the desired emotional response in the target person’s own limbic system after their olfactory tract picks up the signaling molecules.

“So this is why I want to build an MRI coil which has a resolution high enough that it can detect increased neurologic activity in groups of cells instead of their ability to image only general regions. Then I might be able to track down exactly how those chemical signals are triggered and especially how I can do it voluntarily. Everything I read implies that pheromone production is an involuntary response to an emotional trigger of some kind. So that’s my ability; I must have conscious control of my limbic system. If I’m correct, then everyone should have this ability—to a greater or lesser extent.”

“Hell, I’d hate to see someone with a greater ability than you have, Tamara,” Peter told her.

“If you mean having the ability to influence people—like charismatic individuals—then I’m a piker. Think of, um, Martin Luther King Junior. Or Winston Churchill. On the other side, how about Adolph Hitler or, well, Jim Jones?”

“I know about three of them, but who’s Jim Jones?”

“A notorious cult leader from the late 1970s. He moved to South America and about a thousand of his cult members followed him. They set up a compound there and things didn’t go well so Jones ordered everyone to drink poison; those who refused got shot. Parents even poisoned their kids and over 900 people died. Most of them blindly did whatever Jones told them to do; he was that charismatic.”

“Damn. I never heard about that.”

“Oh, there are lots of cult leaders like Jones, but that was one extreme case. Another cult was the Branch Davidians—you hear of that one?”

“Yeah, that one I did.”

“So the leader there, David something, was said to have a huge amount of charisma. Some charismatic people use that ability to further their own plans, trampling over everyone else’s rights. I would—could—never do anything like that.”

“Aren’t you concerned about authorities finding out what you can do?” Peter asked, concerned.

“Oh, absolutely. That’s why you’re only the fourth person I’ve ever told. My parents know and Emma does too. The lwa told me I can trust you not to reveal my secret. My impression was that somehow they would make it hard for you to even accidently talk about my ability. I trust them that they can do that somehow.”

“Jeez, this is so effin’ crazy,” Peter groaned. “How can they do...”

Just then, Barbara’s voice came from inside. “You guys gonna sit and talk there all night? Jeez, it’s after 11 p.m. now.”

“Hey, yeah,” Tamara answered. “We’re coming in.”

They got up and went inside and prepared for bed.

“Hey, tomorrow I’ll tell you the rest of the story—how I used my abilities to help others,” Tamara told Peter as they got into bed.

After snuggling for a while and a few kisses, both of them, tired from the day’s activities, fell asleep.

~~~~

In the morning, Tamara woke when Barbara called to them. She opened her eyes and saw Peter beginning to stir, then he groaned as he sat up.

“I can’t believe we just zonked out like that,” he groaned. “I was hoping we could... um ...”

“We could screw? Copulate? Make the beast with two backs?” Tamara giggled.

“No, make love. If you’re ready, that is. I can sense that you’re still hesitant.”

“That’s true. I think it’s because I still haven’t shared with you who I really am and my ‘mischief’ during school and high school is an important part of me. Now see, you’re using your empathetic superpowers to read me—right?”

Peter laughed. “Got me. Okay, let’s see what our social czar out there has planned for us today.”

They left their room as Terence was coming out of the other bedroom. Barbara was making coffee.

“‘Mornin’, everyone,” Barbara said. “I need my coffee before anything, so if you want a cup too, grab one. It’s just about ready. You guys, that was a pretty intense conversation you had last night. Is everything okay?”

Peter and Terence got cups, but Tamara took a container of orange juice out of the refrigerator and poured herself a glass.

“Anyone else?” Tamara asked. Getting three negative responses, she put the container back and went on. “Yep, all fine; we got talking about Peter’s empathy. Also, I told him a little about my future plans and how my high-school years influenced my decision to go into science.”

“A little?” Terence asked. “Jeez, y’all were out there two hours jawin’. Ah coulda told my life story in that time,” he chuckled. “Twice.”

“Our gal here’s had a much more exciting life,” Barbara grinned. “Multiple patents, special government treatment... it wouldn’t surprise me if she were a secret agent. A real fake ID. Sheesh! Say, why didn’t you ever get a driver’s license, anyway?”

“The short answer is I never needed one. I was way too busy to take driver’s ed; besides, I was in college classes when it was offered. I didn’t have access to a car, either. And I found that a car service or public transit were far more convenient. Besides, parking in Miami is awful. So what’s on today’s schedule?”

“Okay, let’s get breakfast in the clubhouse. You guys want to try the yoga class they do? It’s a gentle class, nothing extreme. Lots of restful poses.”

“Maybe. When is it?” Tamara asked.

“At 9 o’clock. If we go now, we can get breakfast and do it. We have some yoga mats in the main house.”

They all decided to try it, so they left for breakfast. After breakfast, they went into the clubhouse and Barbara led them to a room next to the games room.

“This is the studio, remember?” she explained. “They do activities here like drawing classes, crafts, parties, aerobics, and, of course yoga.”

There were a half-dozen people there already and mats were lying on the floor around the room. They put their mats down in one area as several more people filtered in. Barbara and Peter knew everyone, so there was another round of introductions. The teacher came in then.

“Good morning; is everyone ready?” she asked and everyone responded that they were.

“Good. Before we start, I want to remind everyone that my partner and I will be giving a class on nuru massage tonight after dinner. If you’re interested, get a flyer from me after this class. Okay, I see some newcomers here; anybody here who has not done a yoga session before?”

Tamara and Terence raised their hands as did two others in the room.

“Okay, no problem, people. This is a mindful yoga session; we do basic poses designed to stretch the muscles and we hold the poses for slightly longer to develop the full stretch. I ask that you move deliberately into each pose and remain aware of how your muscles feel as they stretch. Sometimes the full extension of a pose isn’t available to a person; that’s not a limitation. Do whatever your body can attain. Remember, in my class, there isn’t any ‘my body can’t do’ something—this isn’t a competition and we don’t want anyone to have negative feelings about their body’s flexibility. And if something hurts, stop. Do not try to overstretch. You will do more harm than good. Now, is there any particular part of your bodies that you’d like this session to emphasize?”

The people in the room mentioned backs and butts.

“That’s good, the poses I typically use target those areas,” she said. “I will be doing the poses along with you so if you aren’t familiar with the names, just look at what I’m doing. Let’s start by standing at the top end of your mats, feet shoulder width apart, and...”

She led them through the class, doing most of the traditional basic poses and ended the class with a five-minute shavasana, a supine asana to relax the body and free the mind during the session-ending meditation. After the class, Barbara got a flyer for the massage class.

As they walked out, Terence asked her, “Is that the massage where y’all slide bodies on each other?”

Barbara nodded. “Yeah. They give that class twice each summer but it’s for over eighteen and couples-only. I was thinking that if you wanted, we could try it. It’s $20 per couple.”

Tamara and Peter came over to them. “I really liked that class. What’s that massage one about?” she asked.

Peter chuckled. “Barbara’s always wanted to try that class. Slippery massage using the entire body.”

“Really? How does that work?” Tamara asked.

“Yeah, Barbara. How does it work?” Terence echoed.

“Okay, guys. Let me read the intro here,” Barbara said.

“The nuru massage, like tantric massage, is a particularly intimate form of massage. The term ‘nuru’ is a Japanese word which has different meanings depending on usage. As a verb, nuru means ‘to paint or to varnish.’ As an adjective, nurunuru means ‘slippery or slimy.’ And that is exactly how the nuru massage is given. An ultra-slippery gel, typically made using a seaweed-derived gelatin, is ‘painted’ on the partners’ bodies to serve as a lubricant for this full body-on-body erotic massage.

The massage recipient just relaxes as their partner uses his or her body to slip and slide all over, stimulating the sensual areas of both, increasing their level of intimacy. Nuru massage mobilizes the tingling sensations of intercourse without the partners actively engaging in it. According to its practitioners, the benefits of nuru massage can include relaxing the muscles and relieving stress. The gel itself helps in moisturizing the skin.

Nuru massage’s full-body contact is soothing, intimate, and arousing, all at the same time, so it’s typically performed in an erotic setting rather than a therapeutic massage session.”

“Dang! Really?” Terence exclaimed. “Y’all want that? Ah’m all in!”

They all laughed.

Tamara looked at Peter, who blushed and looked down.

“Peter?” she asked. “I’m thinking that this is another of your fantasies?” she whispered to him and he nodded, blushing even harder.

“Okay then, four of us,” Barbara said. “There’s a sign-up sheet on the bulletin board—ah, there it is. They’ll charge it to our accounts. It says we need to shower just before the class.”

She wrote their names on the sheet.

“Now, after yoga I like to soak in the hot tub for a bit. Let’s go; it’s on the other side of the pool shower block. We need to shower first, anyway.”

After showering, they went to the hot tub and found a few of their fellow yoga classmates already there. The four joined them and their conversation, which was about the yoga class and yoga in general.

But Tamara was thinking about that nuru massage class. First, I can’t believe that I’m doing all of this stuff. Second, that I’m doing it naked. And third, that it doesn’t even bother me now.

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