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She laughed.
“So, would you like to try Tantra?” She wore a seductive smile.
“If it means I can fondle your breasts, then yeah, count me in.”
“You’ve been fondling my breasts all morning.”
“So?” I asked. “They’re nice to look at. Touch. And nibble on. My dick doesn’t mind nuzzling in either.”
She tapped my arm. “You’re making me hot.”
“That makes two of us.” I stood. “Let’s get back.”
We made it back, dragging our underfed asses into the spa and bowing our heads at the various guests we passed, too tired to strike up a conversation. Much to our delight, the buffet was open for dinner.
We ate in comfortable silence. That was another thing I liked about Ivy—she didn’t need to keep chatting for the sake of it.
“I’m not sure what this is, but it’s quite nice.” I chomped into a burger that tasted almost like the real thing. “All this fresh air is making me hungry.”
“Me too,” Ivy said.
Later that evening, we bumped into Summer and Mitchell, who had just arrived, and they talked us into going to a session of chakra dance.
Ivy, being the consummate dancer, made it look easy with her graceful and imaginative moves. Whereas in my case, according to our instructor, Kavisha, I was too base chakra.
Ivy giggled and whispered. “All that pelvic thrusting.”
When it came to the heart chakra, I didn’t have a clue. I pushed out my chest and pretended to be a rooster. Kavisha said not to take it too literal.
Ivy’s mom tried to talk us into joining their chanting group, but by that stage, we were beat. Instead, we went out for a walk and ended up on the pier downing a few shots from my secret stash and taking a midnight dip in the lake.
The following day, we decided on the twenty-mile trip to the closest café for coffee.
Aadhar caught us sneaking out, and we used the excuse that Ivy had to buy female products.
He stared at our backpacks and nodded.
Aware of a primal masculinity workshop about to start, I was relieved Aadhar didn’t lecture me on the benefits of finding my inner caveman.
I hated to lie, but coffee was more important than learning how to grunt and beat my chest at the same time.
When we arrived in the town, where everyone wore similar clothes, the look of relief on Ivy’s face pretty much summed up my own sentiments. Civilization, even in its homogenized form, was a real welcome. At least we didn’t need to bow our head and utter “Namaste” to everyone we ran into.
It turned out that Ivy was thinking what I was.
“Do you think they’ll be pissed off if we just don’t go back?” she asked.
“You’re a mind reader,” I said. Taking her petite hand, I swung her arm along, acting like someone about to sit down to a meal after a week without food.
After we polished off a plate of eggs and bacon, followed by pie, I wiped my lips and sipped from my second coffee. “So do you think they’ll understand?”
She shrugged. “I’m sure they get this all of the time.”
“I enjoyed it, though,” I admitted.
“Me too,” Ivy said, wiping her lips with a napkin. “The massage was nice and so was the hike, even if we ran out of steam.”
“I loved that part of it. And to be honest, if we were allowed to do what we wanted, it would offer the perfect break.”
