Ladies’ Spa Weekend, Four girlfriends enjoy a weekend away at an unusual spa
“So Jen and I walk into the room for our body exfoliation and there are these two massage tables, separated by this curtain that doesn’t even stretch the width of the room.”
I was recounting our afternoon experiences at the Spa des Rêves to our two friends, Tracy and Lamya. The four of us had planned to spend a girls’ weekend up North – away from the stress of work and family – being buffed, massaged, and generally pampered in a context of copious amounts of wine and good food. Tracy had suggested this spa on the recommendation of her friend, Shannon, who couldn’t stop raving about it. The wine was already flowing and Lamya topped up my glass with some bubbly pink Zinfandel – something festive for “Ladies’ Spa Weekend.”
And boy, did I need to relax! It had been a while since I had a weekend and didn’t have to bring any work home. My lifestyle was hectic enough, with job, kids, volunteering with school and activities – rarely a down moment. My last weekend away had been… well, that conference out West, I guess – and that was months ago. I was distracted for a moment recalling how I’d helped my friends Matt and Liane expand their sexual repertoire – and mine too. I had always considered myself somewhat bi-curious and that weekend had definitely solidified my attraction to women.
I realised that I had fallen silent, but fortunately, Jen had picked up the train of the story, with no one the wiser.
“Kate and I sort of looked at each other, wondering if they thought we were a couple or something,” she continued.
As if! I thought. Both of us were in our late 30s with young children at home and I was pretty sure Jen was as hetero as they come. Actually, Tracy was the only one of our group with no kids. And she was definitely one of the more adventurous too, with her platinum blonde dyed hair and tasteful tattoos – I think eight at last count. She was fit and muscular with small breasts and a confident attitude. She was also openly bisexual. Sometimes I envied her relaxed attitude about sex – Jen had regaled me with stories of her escapades – I always found it so ironic that two such divergent women were friends. I didn’t know Tracy as well as the others but I’d been pleased when Jen suggested her as an addition to our group this weekend. She had a delightfully cynical way of looking at things that managed to find the humour in any situation.
“Good thing we’re pretty comfortable with each other!” Jen said and sipped at her own wine.
She was sprawled elegantly on one of the overstuffed chairs in our room, her delicate feet resting on the edge of the enormous bathtub that seemed to take up half of the room. Jen did everything elegantly, I thought absently. Her short brown hair was a thick tousled mass that managed to look stylish even in the fluffy white bathrobe. My own auburn curls were still tied in the loose bun I had used to keep them out of the way for our afternoon treatment.
“The older of the two women points to this tiny bundle on the massage table and says something to us in French – I had NO idea what she was talking about – and then they walk out,” Jen added. “Turns out it’s this disposable thong and we’re supposed to wear that and nothing else! I couldn’t even tell which tiny triangle of fabric was supposed to be the back and which the front!”