by Sally Bryan
I shook my head. “Sorry. We have some cheese and rustic bread though.”
“Meh, I’ll hang on till we pass somewhere.”
“We’re thinking of leaving in about an hour. It’s not too far to Barcelona from here, a couple of hours at the most.” I inhaled the sweet air, stronger now after that hair performance.
“An hour? That’s plenty of time. I just need to wash.”
“Wash?”
* * *
“I didn’t think people actually did that.” Gabe and I were leaning against the side of the camper, staring in the direction of the stream. “I thought it was just a movie thing.”
“And only those movies set in ancient times.”
“Or post-apocalyptic times after the world’s been reclaimed by nature.” He sipped his tea and pushed up his glasses.
Arwen was facing away, in her bikini, standing a few minutes downstream, in the actual bloody stream and I could just make out the toothbrush protruding from her mouth. She bobbed upwards prior to plunging herself beneath the water and remained submerged for a count of ten before thrusting up and flicking her blonde mane backwards as the water jettisoned in all directions. The toothbrush was still there and she devoted the next minute to that task, before taking a second dunk below.
“She is the type, don’t you think? One of those of nature girls.” I don’t know why I asked for Gabe’s opinion on that but he didn’t answer anyway.
“All I can say is, it’s a good thing Dan ain’t back yet to see it cos I don’t think he’d be able to control himself.” He sniffed and glanced over at the trees. “How long’s he been?”
It was a question I had no intention of even considering and instead watched as Arwen stepped out from the water and tilted sidewards to squeeze long trickles of water from her hair. How cold must that have been? Granted, it wasn’t Scotland but it was a comparatively dull morning by Spanish standards. The goosebumps she must have right now. She wrapped a towel around her hips and threw a second over her shoulders before beginning the short stroll back to her tent and disappearing inside. The fascinating woman.
There was a throb down below and I knew what it was, I was a healthy young woman, after all. The girl had left me in quite an agitated state after that massage, not to mention the kiss, which now left me with two options; either ignore it or follow Dan into the trees.
* * *
We stopped for a quick breakfast at the first town we drove through, mostly pastries and yoghurt with lots of strong coffee and soon afterwards Gabe had the camper on a fast road to Barcelona.
I leaned against the passenger side door and faced inwards, not just because I wanted to appear more sociable to the two in the back but I needed to conceal the screen of my mobile phone as I conducted research. Having a medical degree, I knew the answer already but felt the deep desire to learn about the experiences of other women.
I typed into Google, ‘is it possible to orgasm during massage,’ and scrolled through the results. The overwhelming response was a definite - Yes! And reading through the posts from some of these women, it soon became clear that they, like me, had experienced their first orgasm through massage. Well, it would have been my first non-self inflicted climax had the Australian not left me high and dry and just a little bit frustrated.
I clicked on a female problems page, swallowed and braced for the read.
‘Dear Aunt Agnes, I have a real problem and don’t know what to do. Almost every time I go for a massage, I experience an orgasm. It seems to happen when he’s working on my lower back and is unpredictable, occurring when I least expect it and am not even aroused. It doesn’t matter if my masseuse is a man or a woman either, it still happens. Sometimes I have up to four or five mini tremors per session, others it’s one or two big ones and I have to try extra hard not to scream out at the top of my voice. The funny thing is that no matter how hard my partner tries, he’s unable to make me come, no matter with oral or penetration, in fact not once in my life have I ever climaxed from penetrative sex and some of my most dedicated partners have given up trying. I find myself returning for massages, sometimes up to four times a week, and it’s draining my entertainment budget. Worst of all, I feel like I’m cheating on my partner, going to a masseuse and paying for sexual release, almost like I was visiting a brothel and paying for sex. I feel like I need to give it up but don’t think I can. Am I alone in this? Help!’
I shut down the screen, opened the window and considered how that unfortunate woman could have been me in so many ways.
Poor Gabe. I remembered the time he’d surprised me with candles and soft music, wine and a bunch of pillows on the floor.
“Strip and lie faced down.” He’d ordered, squirting lotion on his hands and I’d obeyed.
“Awe, such a wonderful idea, is it my birthday?” It had been a long day at the library and a massage, however that might go, sounded most welcome.
“Does a chap need a reason to pamper his bird?”
I suppressed a yelp and shivered as he squirted cold lotion over my back and then had the wind thrust out of me when he sat on my arse. “Um, Gabe? You’re hurting me.”
He readjusted himself and set to work and it felt like being tickled by a feather duster, his hands slipping and sliding across my back, shoulders and neck. Downstairs, our housemates were blaring out Metallica, which overwhelmed Tchaikovsky trilling softly from the speakers in our room and there were bits of cork floating in the wine.
No, I’d not felt much during that massage, certainly not an orgasm and neither had Gabe tipped me over the edge any other way in five full years of dating. I was just one of those women, one of the unlucky ones but he was a good man, intelligent with a bright future and I loved him. And at least he’d tried.
But last night, when she’d touched me…
I mean, it wasn’t right.
In five years, not once had Gabe made me come and here was this girl succeeding on her first attempt. By massaging my bloody shoulders!
What the fuck?
I peeped over at Arwen, looking so sweet and innocent reclining back on the bench, one hand propping up her head, the other holding a book. What was she reading? I squinted but couldn’t read the cover because it was in Spanish.
“What the fuck?” I yelled out.
They all shot glares at me. “What?” Dan called. “You woke me.”
“Sorry, false alarm.” I waved to Arwen, who’d sat up with a perturbed expression. “Good book?”
“It’s fine.” She remained rigid, posture stiff. “Are you sure you’re ok?”
“Yep, I’m ok.” I turned back to lean against the door and after a minute realised I should have blamed it on a rabbit running across the road but by then it was too late.
We were on a three-lane motorway now, traffic was building and the Pyrenees had long vanished. We’d soon be in Barcelona and it was looking to be another scorching hot Spanish day. The clouds were thinning out by the minute and the roads were producing that wavy haze that comes from the heat.
Dan clapped his hands together. “What must I do to get one of your famed massages?”
Arwen slammed her book closed. “You’d like one?”
He pressed his shoulder down and worked his head around its axis. “After that night on the grass…” he said in a playful accusatory tone.
She grinned and stood. “Serves you and your pervy hands right, doesn’t it? Go on … remove your vest and take to the floor.”
He whipped his vest off and flexed his pectorals, making them dance individually.
She cupped them in her hands and gave each a playful squeeze. “Ooh, but you know, there’s really nothing sexual about a massage, Dan.”
He grunted, made a dopey expression and positioned himself prone. Meanwhile, I flexed my neck and shoulders, which still felt like they’d been steamrollered but the awful tension of the previous days was a fraction of its former self.
Arwen began rustling through her trolley bag and brought out
a small bottle of lotion, dripped a small quantity over his back and knelt by his side.
But Dan was good, keeping his eyes closed with a neutral expression, making only the occasional audible whimper as she pressed over a tender spot and unlike some people I wouldn’t mention, he certainly wasn’t getting off on it, which perhaps came as a shock.
She was good too and I could be forgiven for assuming no bad altercation had taken place between those two last night. She was beginning to seem more and more like a compassionate girl who hadn’t so far let Dan’s unrequited love damage their friendship. Why he couldn’t just accept things, I don’t know. To watch them now, Dan could have a friend for life in Arwen, just so long as he didn’t screw it up. And as for the massage, she knew what she was doing, as if I didn’t already know, was attentive, thorough and possessed obscene strength in those tiny hands.
I tasted blood. “Shit.” I murmured, dabbing a finger to my lip. Yep blood. Great.
I needed a distraction, so went back to Google and typed in, ‘kissed girl and enjoyed,’ nope delete that, try again, ‘kissed girl and didn’t dislike it, am I a lesbian.’
Ugh, that search turned up nothing but guff, try again. ‘Have crush,’ nope delete, try again, ‘have small crush on hot girl, am I a lesbian.”
Ok, I found an article that looked promising.
‘If you think you might be a lesbian, there’s no need to freak out. Just buy a plaid shirt and get yourself to the nearest gay bar.’ Ugh. ‘These days, it’s no big deal if a girl is into other girls. If you’re into girls, that’s all it means, you’re into girls. You might still be into men too, which is cool, or you might not. Who you’re into at any specific moment may even flip between the two. There’s no need to change your life plans or prepare for any massive coming out ceremony. When it comes to your sexuality, you need to do whatever makes you happy. And neither is there any need to define yourself, however, if you’d like to stick a label on your forehead then the following questions will help determine if your crushing on girls is a passing phase or you need to start streaming Orange Is The New Black and get down to the local cat rescue shelter.’
I coughed, wound the window down further, glanced over at Arwen, still massaging Dan on the floor and ensured my back was fully against the door, bringing my phone closer.
1. You follow lots of hot women on Instagram.
Answer: No I do not. I don’t have time for social media.
2. You get excited when you meet a lesbian.
Answer: There was one on my course, that I know about, and no, Julia does not excite me.
3. You flirt with girls too.
Answer: Not once have I ever flirted with a girl.
4. You’re obsessed with your idol.
Answer: My idols are Edward Jenner, Louis Pasteur and Joseph Lister.
5. You’re crushing on your BFF.
Answer: At this point, I would hardly describe her as my BFF.
6. Your favourite TV shows have strong female leads.
Answer: I have no time for TV shows.
7. Women get you all tingly.
Answer: It’s too early to say, it happened only once.
8. You’re craving the experience of ravishing a woman.
Answer: No comment.
9. There’s something that’s just not right when you’re with a man.
Answer: No, Gabe and I are strong! We’ve never been stronger and will always be strong.
10. You fit the stereotype.
Answer: I do not and never have.
11. You kissed a girl and you liked it.
Answer: Now, that I will admit to.
12. You’re resisting the lady loving.
Answer: That’s ridiculous, I’m open-minded but right now, I’m only at the stage of research.
Such garbage, I rejected the article in its totality and shut down my phone.
It was just a kiss, as well as a massage, a surprisingly pleasant kiss and yes, Arwen’s absolutely gorgeous and mystifying but I’d get over it.
I knew I would.
* * *
We arrived at lunchtime, which meant we had the full day to explore Spain’s second municipality. Or we would have but arriving in any big city takes time with the heavy traffic but I was able to appreciate Barcelona’s famed grid system, even if we saw nothing of any real tourist interest. Finding a safe spot to abandon the camper took longer than hoped and from there it was a fifteen-minute walk to the hostel.
The Rock Palace hostel was huge with a giant front desk staffed by seven guys and girls with dreadlocks, nose rings, bandanas, their badly pressed clothes indicating they’d been a long time on the road. Large groups of travellers were in and out through the doors constantly, a man in his early twenties who’d forgone wearing clothing on his upper half kicked a vending machine, the corridors were filled with stragglers leaning against walls and talking in languages I couldn’t identify, a trail of water led from the bathroom, down the hall and into one of the dorms as an elderly Spanish lady mopped the floor two doors from our room. The place was as clean as could be expected under the circumstances, even if I couldn’t help thinking the poor woman was fighting a never-ending losing battle.
With the hostel being so busy, there were no options for Arwen to reserve her own solo room and after quietly voicing her objections to me, that she wouldn’t be able to dance or meditate, which was a new one, we entered our four-man dorm on the fifth floor.
“Standard.” Dan threw his bag across the entire length of the room for it to crash against the far wall and flop to his bed. “And claimed.” He stretched out his arms after the exertion of dragging it so far, slipped his hand into his back pocket and pulled out what I thought to be a condom but then I saw what it was and winced even harder when he punctured the vinegar packet with his teeth and commenced sucking out the contents.
Arwen and I both went to the window, the view merely encompassing the street below, just as a young tourist emerged from the hostel, hand over eyes and scanning both directions, trying to decide where to go. A horn blared from somewhere close.
“Not a great intro to the city, is it? I’m going back downstairs to get a map.” She exited just as Dan followed after her with a towel slung over a shoulder, leaving just Gabe and myself in the room.
He plonked his bag on the bed next to mine then came over for the embrace. “Last stop for the gatecrashers, this is where we part ways, just the two of us from now on.”
“Um hmm,” I rested my head against his shoulder.
“You are ok with that? It’s what you wanted.”
My hands connected around his back and I nodded into the crook of his neck. “It’ll be a pity, right after I was getting a little attached but probably best in the long run.”
He brought himself to arms’ length. “In the long run?”
“Because now we can go where we want and not have to think about them, duuur.” I held onto him and inhaled the natural scent his neck was giving off. “Anyway, I’ve taken to him, a little bit at least, he’s not as bad as I’d originally thought. There’s a decent guy in there somewhere.”
He laughed and leaned back. “He’s changed a bit over the years but not much, he’s still the same guy who protected me from the bullies. And Arwen, she’s been a pleasure to have around too.” He waited for my response but I remained silent. “Don’t you think?”
“Oh, yeah,” I pulled away and pottered towards my bed, “she’s cool I suppose.”
“Whew, I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you going all lesbian on me. What was that girl’s name who everyone thought was into other girls, the one on our course?” He went to his own bed and began rustling through his bag.
“Her name was Julia and she was into women.”
“Julia! That’s the one. Did she graduate? Anyway, It’s just that…” he sat and brought his kitbag into his lap, “it’s just that last night…”
I twisted around to face him. “Last night? What are you talking ab
out?” I had a funny feeling where this was going.
He regarded me from the next bed as his mouth opened and closed like a fish against a fish bowl. “I don’t know, I’m being silly, I guess, I’ve just never seen you kiss anyone else before.”
“Well, obviously.” My hands gravitated to my hips. “And? I was just going along with your silly game, remember?”
“Yes, I know that,” he rushed to say, “but still, it lasted for an awful long time.”
“And you can blame yourselves for that.” My foot tapped the floor. “Really, Gabe, two doctors coming to Spain to play Truth or Dare, it’s pathetic.”
“Yes!” He stood and closed half the gap in one large step. “You’re right.” He slowly exhaled and his face lifted. “Not into girls then.”
“Nope, I’m not into girls. For one, my dad would disown me so you can rest easy.”
“Hah!” His face flushed and he strode over to the window. “That’s correct. Bloody Spanish heat, does this window open?” He prised it up and I felt a semi-relieving breeze flow through the room. “Doctor?” He asked a minute later and I turned around with the bed sheet in my hands.
“Yes?”
He looked at me with a hopeful expression and I knew what he was waiting for me to propose.
I smiled and held out my palm to suggest he should be my guest. “Don’t feel like you need to be around me today, tomorrow, whenever. As long as we’re in Barcelona, you can spend as much time with Dan as you want, just so long as we get to see a few places together then I’m happy.” Because then it’d be just the two of us.