I smile instinctively as I part the heavy, velvety curtains, taking in the breathtaking view of the shimmering snow-covered rolling hills sparkling enchantingly in the morning sunlight. My hotel, nestled in a charming village below these hills, provides a picturesque escape.
My brother's thoughtfulness in gifting me this weekend retreat as an early Christmas present still amazes me. He thought of everything, providing exactly what I need: an escape from the relentless pace of city life and a soothing balm for the misery of spending my first Christmas without my cheating ex-fiancé. No! We're not going there. Today is all about having fun in this snowy paradise and making new, happier memories.
I swiftly swap my unicorn-print PJs for the skiing outfit I bought just yesterday at a local shop upon arriving here. It's a cute pink and white ensemble, but it fits really tight! Getting into it is a bit of a squeeze, a dance of tugs and pulls, but once I'm in, it hugs my curves in all the right places. What better time to learn to ski than now, in this idyllic winter wonderland?
As I leave my room, my movements become a little robotic because I'm getting used to the snug ski gear. I head for the closest elevator and go downstairs to the lobby. I am welcomed by sparkling lights and vibrant ornaments adorn a joyous Christmas tree in the center of the room. This happy scene brings back memories of my ex-fiancé and me from last Christmas, when I still thought he loved me. I quickly brush that memory from my mind and walk up to the reception wearing a practiced smile. A chic young woman with stylish brown hair greets me at the reception desk.
The receptionist smiles as she greets me. "Good day, Miss! How can I help you today?"
"I'm looking to book a skiing lesson."
She quickly scans her computer before looking up. "I'm sorry, but all our sessions are fully booked for the weekend."
Is she for real? After cramming into this hellishly tight gear and staying at a ski resort, I might not even be able to ski? I can feel my frustration rising. "There's got to be something available, right?"
After a brief pause, the receptionist says, "Well, there are a few spots left in the afternoon kids' group."
Great, just great. The thought of joining a swarm of kids on the slopes makes me cringe. For God's sake, I'm in my late twenties. But what other options do I have? "OK, I'll take it. When does it start?"
"At 3 pm. All I need is your room number, and I'll charge the lesson to it," the receptionist says, her fingers poised over the keyboard.
"It's 403."
"Miss Isabella Leto?" she asks, looking up from her screen, and I confirm with a nod. With a few more clicks, she finalizes the booking. "You're all set. Anything else I can assist you with, Miss Leto?"
I pause for a moment, considering what to do until the lesson. "Actually, yes. What can I do around here to pass the time?" Instead of ruminating on how my ex-fiancé is on a honeymoon with the woman he cheated on me with.
"On the top floor, we have a fantastic spa. Saunas, jacuzzis, and pools are among the amenities. It's a very relaxing way to spend the morning."
I'd never been to a sauna before, but I've always wanted to go. "That sounds perfect."
"Just use the bathrobe and slippers from your room, Miss Leto. Towels are provided at the spa," she adds.
I thank her and return to my room, excited to relax at the spa before my afternoon skiing adventure. After a bit of a struggle to peel off the tight ski gear, I finally manage to slip into my bikini. I make my way to the spa, wrapped in a plush hotel bathrobe.
On my way to find a sauna, I pass by the outdoor pool, visible through the large glass windows. The scene is serene and almost enchanting: steam dances from the warm water into the crisp, cold air. There are only a few elderly couples there, enjoying the tranquil warmth of the pool, which is surrounded by snow-covered trees. Unlike me, most of the guests are probably out skiing.
The aroma of essential oils and tranquil sounds waft through the corridor as I approach the sauna area. A few people in their fifties are relaxing in the jacuzzis, and women are topless, which causes a flush to spread across my cheeks. A stack of clean towels is neatly arranged nearby for guests, and I take one.
As I approach the first sauna, a Turkish one, I notice two bathrobes hung outside. Given my usual shyness, I choose the Finnish sauna instead, where I don't see a bathrobe hanging outside, implying that it isn't occupied. I carefully take off my bathrobe and hang it on a nearby hook outside the door.
I take a deep breath and walk into the sauna's warm, wooden interior, ready to relax and let the heat envelop me, providing a soothing escape from the morning's frustrations and the chill of the winter air outside.
An unexpected sight immediately overshadows the intense heat and eucalyptus-scented air. A young woman, who I hadn't noticed through the glass door, is lying naked on a towel. She appears to be much younger than me, with a slim, toned body that gleams with perspiration.
I find myself unintentionally fixated on her supple and ample C-cup breasts, much like a deer caught in headlights. They look so soft. Her delicate pink areolas stand out against her milky white skin. Mmm. I want to lick them and feel them peaking beneath my tongue.
"Didn't you see the sign?" the blonde asks, jolting me out of my reverie.
I finally meet her sapphire eyes, which seem to amplify my nervousness, as I try to divert my attention away from her mouthwatering breasts.
"What?"
Her perfectly shaped, light brown left brow arches slightly. "The 'No clothes' sign."
"Oh." It finally hits me, and I feel like a total moron.
I lay my towel on the nearest wooden bench, hoping not to appear completely inexperienced with saunas, which I was. I try to undo my bikini, but the knots are stubborn, and I struggle awkwardly.
"Let me help."
When she stands up, I try to look at her pretty face, which is framed by damp blonde curls, but my gaze is drawn to her heaving breasts and even lower. I look at her gleaming, smooth mound, her delicate outer lips teasingly embracing her swollen bud. The mere sight causes a searing flush to spread across my cheeks, as if reflecting the intense lust pulsing within me. In contrast to my voluminous protruding inner lips, her folds are flawless, and I feel instantly self-conscious about removing my bikini.
She walks behind me, her fingers brushing against my skin as she unties the strings of my bikini top. My nipples harden against the fabric, aching to be teased by her delicate fingertips. Oh, God, what is happening to me? I've always been attracted to women but have never had the guts to pursue it. Maybe this is just surfacing now, because I didn't have sex for months.
I gasp as she slowly removes my bikini top, the pulsing heat between my legs threatening to drip.
She leans closer, and her scent fills the air—a sweet perfume with a hint of sweat—and makes me want to lick and taste her skin.
My top falls to the floor, and I resist the urge to cover my bare breasts because I don't want her to think I'm a prude—even though I am. That's why he cheated on me. Stop! I no longer need to be that person—Miss Perfect, goody-two-shoes. She doesn't know me, and nobody here knows who I am, so I can be whoever I choose to be.
"I'm Sasha," she says.
"Isabella, but friends call me Isa."
"Well, Isa, will you remove the bottom, or do you want me to do it?"
I'm taken aback by her audacity, and I want to let her do it, but I can't.
"I'll do it myself."
"Fine," she says with a playful smirk, stepping back to get a better view of me.
Her gaze is fixed on me as I slowly remove my bikini bottom. She circles around to stand in front of me, her lips parting at the sight of my bare mound, and I'm relieved that I shaved the night before.
Sasha takes a seat on my towel—yes, my towel—and remarks, "You have an impressive body for an older woman."
Hold on. Did she just call me old? "I'm only 29."
"You are a decade older than me, but age is just a number," she responds, her smirk softening into a genuine smile.
I have no choice but to sit next to her because she is taking up a spot on my towel. To break the slightly awkward silence, I strike up a conversation. "How long are you staying at the resort?"
"Oh, I'm not actually a guest," she says with a light chuckle. "My father works here, and I'm just here for the holidays."
"Just visiting him?" I inquire, immediately wishing I hadn't.
"Yeah, my parents are divorced," she responds, with a hint of sadness in her voice. "Dad pays for my college, so as part of our agreement, I spend holidays with him."
"Still, it's nice you get to spend Christmas with him," I say, my mind wandering to my own parents, who died when I was in college.
She nods. "That is true, but in our village, everyone attends the Christmas market. Then we all congregate in the grand hall. Tonight, I'll spend most of my time with my friends."
"That sounds nice," I say, picturing the cozy, festive atmosphere. My plan for the evening is to go to a hotel bar and forget about my problems.
"You should come. Everyone is welcome."
Her invitation takes me by surprise, but in a good way. "I'll think about it."
The idea is appealing, but I'm not sure I'm ready to dive into a vibrant social scene just yet. The thought of being surrounded by happy families and cheery friends while nursing my broken heart is overwhelming.
"Let's take a quick break," Sasha proposes.
"You've been in here quite a while, especially for your first sauna experience, I'm guessing."
"What gave me away?"
She glances at my abandoned bikini on the floor, then gives me an amused smile.
"Ah. Right," I reply, smiling as I realize that my being a newbie is more obvious than I thought.
I reach for the towel as she stands up, but Sasha insists on leaving it behind, assuring me that we'll return.
"But there are people out there," I object, remembering the people in the jacuzzis.
"Yeah, they're naked, too," Sasha says casually. When she notices my hesitation, she jokes, "Come on, let the old men enjoy the view. It's all in the spirit of Christmas."
Despite the oddity of the situation, Sasha's cheerful demeanor is contagious, and I find myself laughing as I follow her out. The moment I step outside the sauna and meet the gazes of three men, I turn crimson. I grab my bathrobe and wrap it around myself quickly. Sasha laughs at my reaction and strides confidently across the room to get her bathrobe.
"Let's go outside," she urges.
Clad in only our bathrobes and the slippers provided by the hotel, we walk past the automatic glass doors, separating the indoor warmth from the biting cold of winter. As the cold air hits me, I feel an urge to plunge into the jacuzzi, despite its current occupants, who are definitely naked in there and my father's age.
Sasha walks confidently to the railing, and I follow close behind. She pulls a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the pocket of her bathrobe. The cigarette, which appears to have been hand-rolled, is lit, and I immediately recognize the distinct scent—it is not tobacco.
She turns to face me after a few deep inhalations and offers me the joint. "Want a smoke?"
"No, thanks. I don't smoke anymore," I reply with a nervous smile.
"Come on, you're on vacation. Have some fun," she says, her eyes twinkling with a daring glint.
One smoke couldn't hurt, I rationalize, tempted by the combination of curiosity, as I have never smoked weed before, and Sasha's carefree attitude, especially intrigued by the intense aroma promising a high to take me away from my worries. I take the joint from her and draw in deeply, but it surprises me. It's nothing like the cigarettes, and I cough, much to Sasha's delight.
"Just breathe slowly, Isa."
I acknowledge her advice with a small nod and take another tentative puff. This time, I handle it better, and a sudden sense of relaxation washes over me. With her easygoing nature, Sasha's unexpected company is proving to be a refreshingly liberating influence.
"Give me a puff," she says. I extend the joint towards her, but she shakes her head slightly. "I want it from you."
I suddenly realize what she's asking for, which is something I've never done before. I hold the smoke in with a deeper inhale, watching as she leans in close. As I exhale, tendrils of smoke flow from my lips to hers, and she breathes it in, pulling the intoxicating fumes deep into her lungs. Our lips are only a few inches apart, and I have an unexpected desire to kiss her. But Sasha pulls away and puts out the cigarette before I can act on my impulse.
Her eyes lock onto mine as she exhales slowly, the smoke dancing across her full lips before vanishing. "It's cold. Let's go back inside."
We return to the warmth of the indoor area, and Sasha removes her robe casually as we walk back towards the sauna, where our towels are. "It turns me on, you know."
Puzzled, I ask, "What does?"
"Strangers watching me naked."
It's refreshing to see someone embrace their desires without shame or inhibition. I wish I was more like her.
"Sorry, weed makes me horny," Sasha adds, and I chuckle at her unabashed honesty.
As we near the sauna, I take off my robe and hang it up before entering. The sauna is still empty, which relieves me but also makes me nervous about being alone with Sasha.
Sasha relaxes on her towel, the wooden bench creaking as she stretches out her naked body. The atmosphere feels more intimate and charged in this small space. I settle myself on my towel, choosing a spot across from Sasha.
"Come closer."
I hesitate and stay where I am, prompting her to quip, "Are you scared of a little girl like me?"
I laugh nervously. "Scared? Not at all," I say, trying to match her lighthearted demeanor.
I stand up and take a few steps closer to Sasha. The heat of the sauna embraces my body as I get closer, and the high from the joint I smoked earlier starts to amp up the sensations. Sasha grins, clearly aware of what is going on with me.