Putting Down (Ski) Tracks in Colorado

With the prospect of skiing more western terrain, I decided to purchase another pair of skis better matched in flex and skiing characteristics to the type of terrain. I was also skiing faster and needed skis that were more stable at the higher speeds. I bought a pair of Rossignol's "cruising" skis in the 203 cm length and they were going with me to Colorado. I bought the skis from the same ski shop where I had purchased my original ski package the previous November. They had the skis ready for me in time for the trip to Colorado.

By this time, I was learning how to maintain my skis (waxing and sharpening) rather than running them into the ski shop all the time. So, on Saturday, April 5th, I was out on my back deck in a pair of black running shorts while waxing and sharpening my original skis in 80+°F weather. My son spent Friday night, Saturday, and Saturday night with me. This caused some level of tension between my new lover and me and I reminded her that I had a schedule with him that I wanted to keep as normal as possible.

My ex-wife came by early on Sunday morning to pick up our son. As I recall, it was a cooler and cloudy morning with rain showers in the area. After saying goodbye and making sure everything was set up for me to leave, I headed to the airport for my flight to Denver (changing planes in Charlotte). There were a number of people on the plane from RDU that were part of our skiing group and even more on the flight from Charlotte to Denver. I knew the weather was cooler in Denver and dressed in jeans and a turtleneck shirt with a warm jacket in my carry-on boot bag.

When we arrived in Denver that afternoon, a cold front had swept down the Rockies and into the Plains bringing a blast of cold air towards the Midwest and Eastern US. The temperature had been dropping all afternoon in Denver and when we reached Stapleton Airport, the temperature was down to around 25°F. Some of the members of our ski party had left North Carolina where shorts and clothing more appropriate for warm weather than cold. The very first thing that they had to do before going to the shuttle busses outside was to change into warmer clothing.

I took my suitcase and my ski bag out to the shuttle bus area and checked-in with the tour "captains." They directed me to the shuttle bus I was assigned to so I could check my luggage and get onboard. We were assigned to shuttle buses so that when we arrived at the Keystone Resort our keys and packets were already available for each bus as it arrived and then took us to the condominiums to which we were assigned. Such good organization. Each bus had a bus captain (much like their normal ski bus trips in North Carolina) who gave us the information that we needed prior to arrival.

We had a ride on the shuttle bus of about 90 minutes to the Keystone Resort and it was on that ride to Keystone that I met Bob and Cheryl, a married couple from the Triad Area near Greensboro, North Carolina. We immediately had a liking and chemistry between the three of us as we rode up to Keystone. We were assigned and staying in adjacent buildings. We noted which condos we were staying in so that we could get together later.

When we arrived at Keystone, we were given our packets with keys, lift tickets, itinerary, and maps of the Keystone Resort. The temperature had dropped to 15°F in the Keystone Village and staying outside for a long period of time to chat wasn't a good idea. I headed into my building, rode up the elevator and found the condo unit I was assigned. I was the first one there. This was three bedroom condo and I picked the "front" bedroom out of the three. I got unpacked and was watching the local ski station on the television where they broadcast local skiing conditions and played various skiing movies by people like Warren Miller.

About an hour after I had arrived and gotten unpacked, the other people assigned to the condo arrived. It was a father and his two teenage sons. After the introductions and getting their gear inside, the departed for a local grocery store. Since the condo had a full kitchen, they planned to eat most of their meals in the condo.

There were group activities that we could attend or we could go about on our own. The shuttle service around Keystone was available to take us where we needed to go locally. The large group dinner didn't take place until Monday night. But a group of us from the flight and the shuttle buses got together for dinner at a local Italian restaurant, including Bob and Cheryl. We had a great time together as a group and were excited to get to the slopes. I had been to Keystone back in January and there were places that I didn't get to explore that first trip. It was down to 5°F when we got back from dinner. We said goodnight as we got off the shuttle and headed to our respective condos. It was going to be quite cold in the morning and many people were going decide to opt out of skiing the first day.

I called Abby to let her know that I had made it back to Colorado. I got her answering machine and left her a message and told her that I'd call her the next night. I also called my new lover. There was a tension between the two of us, but not in a good way and it turned into a longer sort of contentious call over something really stupid. I ended the call by saying I had an early morning.

Now, like most of my fellow skiers, I was mostly prepared for more moderate spring skiing conditions even though we were quite high in altitude. However, in the morning, it was -15°F in Keystone Village. At A-Basin it was -25°F at the base and -35°F at the summit. And that was before the windchill (which ranged from -95 to -105°F). It was cloudy and snowing.

Perfect spring skiing conditions. NOT!

Fortunately, the very last thing I put in my suitcase, figuring that I wouldn't need them or use them, but just in case...a pair of Duofold Expedition Weight Thermal Underwear that I used for the coldest winter skiing days and for mountain climbing. I went to breakfast and saw a number of people from our group (since we were staying in the same area within Keystone). So, while most people opted out for the day, I dressed for the weather with the thermal underwear, a one piece insulated ski suit, turtleneck, a sweater, neck gator, goggles, and a good hat. I also wore a jacket over top of the ski suit. I took my older, shorter skis up to A-Basin and rode the lift up to the top.

The East and West Walls of the basin were closed to skiing due to developing potential avalanche danger. Only the center portion of the basin was open and, in the snow and clouds, it was visibility was limited and it was largely sense of touch skiing by feeling the slope beneath my feet on fresh snow. I would ski a couple of runs and then come inside to check for frostnip or signs of frostbite. I had most of the potentially exposed skin covered, so I protected myself adequately for the extreme conditions. I brought extra pairs of dry socks to change into periodically throughout the day.

By midday, the temperature had risen to something close to 0°F. I stowed my jacket in a locker at the base. By 2PM, the snow was diminishing and the clouds were beginning to break so that we had a mixture of sun and clouds by the end of the day. By the time, the last run was called and I skied down to the base, things were warming up. It got all the way up to 25°F in Keystone village that afternoon. When I got off the bus from A-Basin at the Keystone Mountain House at the base of the Keystone Ski Area, it was mostly sunny and there was no shortage of people sitting out in the late afternoon sun in their skiwear (whether they had skied that day of not).

When I got back to the condo, I was ready for a nice, warm enema and a nice warm shower. Since I had my own bathroom, I could leisurely warm myself inside and then out. My muscles had that feeling that I recognized from exercise in very cold temperatures. The good news was all my preparation for extremely cold weather paid off and nothing got frostbite or frostnip. It was also the only time on this trip where such extremely cold temperatures were encountered. This was supposed to be spring skiing in Colorado...and the next week there would be bikini skiing at Copper Mountain in their first official Eenie Weenie Bikini Skiing Contest as Copper Mountain was closing out their season.

I went to the group dinner and caught up with friends, including Bob and Cheryl. Modifying a line from the movie "The Endless Summer," I said "You guys really missed it, you should have been here today." It was a great dinner (buffet) and we had a good time meeting everyone who had come to Colorado on the trip. As I surmised, many people just weren't prepared for the extremely cold conditions and spent the day in the condos or went to Dillon/Silverthorne. Fortunately, better and more characteristic spring skiing conditions were predicted for the rest of the week.

I had signed up for the NASTAR ski racing on Wednesday morning. I had tried the NASTAR racing at the Winterplace, WV. A NASTAR course setting is a hybrid between slalom and giant slalom. It's a handicap system to specify time ranges (for each course) for gold, silver, and bronze medals. It's one thing to ski on a wide open slope. It's quite different (and disciplining) to be required to ski set courses. It can also be "addictive" if you are competitive and close to a medal or the next higher medal level. My first attempts put me more than a few seconds away from the bronze medal level. With practice I finally reached a bronze medal level.

I was psyched to try my hand at NASTAR on a longer and more stable set of skis at Keystone. It's easy to get that type of racing bug. The new skis weren't really racing skis (I bought those a few years later), but they felt good going fast.

As the dinner wound down, Bob and Cheryl invited me over to their condo for a nightcap at the end of the evening. I told them I'd be over after making several phone calls. I had already called my son, remembering the two hour difference between the Mountain Time Zone and the Eastern Time Zone. I told him how incredibly cold it was and that I was really glad I brought some clothing that allowed me to go out when it was that cold. I also told him that skiing in that cold weather made me feel very tired, reminding him how tired he was after his first day skiing.

My first call was to Abby. She told me that she had gotten my message and asked me how my day was. I told her about the extremely cold conditions and how I was one of only a few that braved the weather to go skiing. These calls with her were more joyous than the ones at the end of January and early February. The finality of her mother's and her sister's death were setting in for both of us. I assumed (wrongly) that I was "getting over" Catie's death because we had only known each other for a few (very intense) months, whereas Abby had a lifetime of memories to deal with. There were still miles for both of us to go before we finally chose what we would be for each other.

My second call was to my new lover. It started off well enough as I told her about my day on the slopes, the dinner, the plans for the week, etc. However, she returned to the conversation that we had the previous night. Like I said, it was contentious over something that was quite stupid or more correctly, that I was stupid enough to try to answer for her (it was essentially a question "why men like women dressed" in certain ways, in certain clothes, shoes, etc. I was dumb enough to try to answer and that had me dig "a deeper hole." I should have just stopped and told her that if she was a man and had grown up in the society as a man, she would understand, and she would be asking me that question. But I was trying to answer her questions and all it did was make things progressively worse. I finally told her I was tired of talking about it, it ruined what was a pretty good day, and I was going to call it a night. After that, I didn't feel like I'd be particularly good company and I called over to Bob and Cheryl's condo and asked them if I could have a raincheck on that nightcap. We agreed to meet in the morning.

I sat there and watched skiing movies and music videos (MTV had really become "a thing") for a little bit. I was very frustrated by the way this had turned. Of course, I realized that I was comparing this relationship to the way that the relationship with Catie felt free and natural. I finally turned off the the TV and the lights in my room and quickly drifted off to sleep.

The next morning was bright and sunny. The temperature was 15°F when I got up. That was 30°F warmer than the previous morning and a veritable heat wave by comparison. I could wear less clothing (e.g., no expedition weight thermal underwear). Still, I did dress with a turtleneck, a sweater, and insulated jacket, and my black and gray stretch ski pants. I connected with Bob and Cheryl and we met and rode the shuttle bus to the River Run Plaza. Rather than eating breakfast prior to getting on the Skyway Gondola, we chose to board the gondola and ride up to the Summit House where we could eat breakfast together. By the time we boarded the gondola, the temperature was up to 25°F.

We studied our options on our ski trail maps while we were eating breakfast. Most of the trail runs (and people) were on the front side of the mountain. We decided that the backside was more interesting and North Peak looked like it had a good selection of runs for the more advanced skiers, including more advanced intermediates. That meant that we were less likely to encounter novice skiers on this side of the mountain. The Summit House became busier as people arrived and rode up the lifts and gondola to the top. Bob, Cheryl, and I gathered our stuff, went outside, and retrieved our skis.

Let me mention something about our skis. I was skiing on my new 203 cm skis. Cheryl was skiing on skis that were slightly shorter than mine. Bob, on the other hand , had these really long skis (longer than I had seen anywhere) and their length was distinctive when boarding the gondola. Bob had been a ski racer and the downhill race was his specialty in his younger days (he was a couple of years older than I was). He had continued to ski on downhill race skis. At about 6 foot, two inches tall, his skis were 227 cm long (or nearly 10 inches longer than mine) and designed for downhill racing. There were a couple of practical implications about those long skis. First, he could glide/slide very, very fast and still have a stable ski (one that does not chatter or bounce at the front shovel and higher speeds). I had learned about this on my first day of skiing when I got to the point where I was balanced but skiing fast enough that the 165 cm length didn't have enough dampening to keep from bouncing on the snow. Second, it took those skis took higher speeds to make such long skis turn.

We set out on the first run from the Summit House down a run named "Mozart." Ask any skier about their most memorable runs and they can tell you what mountain and what the run was named. This was one of those runs (at least for me). The upper part of the run was still in the morning shade. As an intermediate run (and that's relative to the mountain, not an absolute) it was wide, steep, and smooth. Bob took off like a rocket and there was no way that either Cheryl or I could keep up even if we pointed our skis straight downhill. We watched him get way out in front of us while we were making our more cautious first turns on the slope. Bob would stop somewhere down the slope and wait for us to catch up (and stop), before he would takeoff again. Then he'd wait for us at the bottom so we could all ride up together (they were triple chairlifts).

From the Keystone Summit (11, 640 feet) to the bottom of the Ruby Lift (10,060 feet) was 1,580 feet. After several runs down Mozart, the combination of a rising temperature and the effort to maneuver down the trails had us being too warm in our skiwear. So, it didn't take us long before we were getting a couple of lockers to store our jackets at the Summit House. After that next run down Mozart, we were ready to ski down to the base of the Santiago Lift (10,040 feet) and ride to the top of North Peak (11, 660 feet). The descent down North Peak was was 1,620 feet and we started down another incredible run named "Last Alamo." It joined the Mozart run to make a 1.75 mile run down North Peak. Bob took off at high speed on the first run down Last Alamo, stopped about halfway down to wait for us, skied down to the junction of Last Alamo and Mozart (again to wait for us), and then after a brief stop (for us), he skied to the bottom of Mozart to wait for us again to get on the one or the other lift.

As it turned out, Cheryl and I were roughly the same in skiing ability and so we were having fun skiing together. Although it might appear that we were skiing slowly, nothing was farther from the truth. On a couple of runs before lunch, she and I skied nonstop from the North Peak summit to the base on the longest run (1.75 miles) and our average descent speed ranged from 27.5 - 30.0 miles per hour and that didn't include the distance for the long sweeping turns we were making (so we were going much faster). It was just that Bob was a better skier and could ski more comfortably at a higher speed, particularly with very long skis on a slope with many fewer people.

The were no facilities over on North Peak except some picnic table as the base and a ski patrol first aid station at the top. If you needed anything else that you didn't bring with you (water, a snack, bathroom break, etc.), you had to ride the Ruby Lift up to the Summit House. When we were ready for lunch and a bathroom break, we rode back up the Ruby Lift to the Summit House.

We agreed that we really liked the terrain over on the backside of the mountain and on North Peak and we decided that we would continue to ski there after lunch.

I liked both Bob and Cheryl. We got along well. In the moment, it seemed like Bob (and Cheryl) were going out of their way to have Cheryl and I ski together. It seemed, at the time, like he was shopping out Cheryl and, at one level, it felt like his was looking for a skiing partner for her to allow him to get in some fast skiing. But I sensed there was something to it than just that.

We wrapped up lunch and made or plans for the afternoon. There was other terrain over on North Peak that neither Cheryl or I would have been inherently comfortable with. Bob, however, wanted to ski some of it and he asked Cheryl if she was okay skiing with me while he explored those other slopes.

They turned to me and asked if I was okay with it.

"Sure," I said, pointing out that there were a couple of slopes that we had seen that looked to be within our skill level.

Besides, Cheryl was "easy on the eyes" and a very enjoyable ski companion on the slopes. I couldn't help but notice how nicely her tush fit into her black stretch ski pants, like they were custom made for her to show off her cute, well-defined butt. That was a bonus that added to her skiing ability.

Based on this turn of events, I figured that it really was more likely that Bob was looking for someone that Cheryl could ski with and I fit the bill as the nice guy they had met on the bus.

As an aside to the above:

Based upon the experiences that Catie and I had, it felt like there was something more going on in the background; like Cheryl was shopping for someone or being put out there by her husband as "being available" for some type of experience. There was nothing overt about it. It just had that vibe that felt similar way to when Catie and I met Ted and Annie or, more precisely, the way Catie was when she wanted to experience having two or more lovers. We had enlisted Jody's help with Mark and when that timing fell through, we had gone to Minneapolis to experience something quite remarkable with Ted and Annie and their little group of swingers. I wasn't sure that this was what was actually occurring, but it certainly felt that way to me.

If, at lunch, either Bob had said to me "Hey, we've both decided that we'd like for you to join us in a threesome because Cheryl would really like to be fucked by both of us." Or if Cheryl had said something like "I like you and I'd like you to join Bob and I in fucking me in a threesome. Let's skip skiing for the afternoon and head back to our condo," I would likely have agreed and we would have ridden the gondola back down to the base and headed back to their condo for an afternoon of delightful fucking. But I was also cautious about making any play for another man's wife. I just wasn't going there. The request for me to ski with Cheryl as a skiing partner dissuaded me from the threesome possibility at that time.

Back to what happened:

When we left the Summit House, the Mozart run was fully in the sun and the snow had softened considerably in the direct sunlight and warming temperatures. We skied down Mozart to the base of the Santiago lift and rode to the summit of North Peak. Bob went off to the right while Cheryl and I went off to the left. We tried a couple of different runs (Starfire, Cat Dancer to the trail called Geronimo, and one called The Glades). But we kept coming back to the Last Alamo because it was so much fun to ski down. We didn't see much of Bob over the next several hours because of the trail layout compared to the lift location. We had agreed to meet at the Summit House at the end of the day.

It was during one of those rides up to the top of North Peak that Cheryl asked me if there was someone else in my life. I had already told them about my impending divorce during previous conversations. And they knew I had a five year old son who I had just taken skiing for the first time.

I told her "yes," and gave her a very short explanation that I had met someone in September 1985 who lived in Chicago, we had "really clicked" and, we had planned on her moving in with me in March.

I paused a moment to take a big breath and, before she got a chance to ask me what happened, I told Cheryl that she and her mother had been killed in a traffic accident in December.

"That's terrible, " she said. "I'm so sorry."

"Me, too." I didn't tell her anything about Catie's pregnancy, my involvement with Catie's sister, or the crazy stuff we did with Catie's friends.

"What was she like?" Cheryl asked.

"She was...incredible in so many ways. Sexy, adventuresome, brilliant. We unlocked something in each other," I said while thinking of the Richard Bach quote.

"She would have liked this...being here," I said. "I think you would have liked her. I'm pretty sure she would have liked you and Bob and the four of us would have had a great time together."

We continued the ride up the lift in silence for a few moments.

"Anyway, last month, I got involved with a woman that a coworker of mine introduced to me," I said. And then I volunteered "This new relationship hasn't been nearly as easy," without giving any details.

"Maybe you aren't ready for another serious relationship, yet," Cheryl said. I'd had that thought myself.

"Maybe you just ought to be out having some fun," she said, "like this."

Soon, we were off the lift and back swooping down the slopes. Though I spoke about my relationships some more on the lift rides back up the mountain, it was limited during the rest of the afternoon. It eventually was time to ride back up to the Summit House where we met Bob. We recovered our gear from our lockers. We were headed down the mountain to the Mountain House to sit out on the deck for a little while, before heading back to our condos. Bob and Cheryl suggested that we could ride the gondola back down the mountain and then catch the shuttle bus over to the Mountain House. I told them I'd meet them there as I was going to ski down a couple of the runs on the front of the mountain. I stepped into my skis, adjusted my glasses, told them I'd see them at the bottom, and pushed off to begin my long run down the mountain.

I arrived just a couple of minutes after them. The deck of the Mountain House wasn't crowded like it would be on a weekend and because of that, we had no problem finding a place to sit, prop up our ski boots, and watch people go by as the sun got lower in the sky. I took the open seat next to Cheryl. That had Cheryl sitting between Bob and I. I commented that there were many more people out on the deck this day compared to the day before when it was so cold and many people had stayed inside most of the day.

As we sat out on the deck, drinking our beers and chatting, I sensed something was different. I couldn't tell you what it was at that moment. Only that something seemed different between the time I left them at the top of the mountain and the time I caught up with them here. It wasn't something like anger. It just had a different vibe to me. I figured (correctly) that something must have happened on the gondola ride down the mountain or on the bus ride over to the Mountain House. I knew that at 9,000 feet above sea level, the alcohol had a more pronounced effect on us lowlanders and I thought, "maybe it's the altitude enhanced effects on alcohol consumption making things seem different."

Still, we were recounting our day together; we were trying to count the number of runs we had gotten in (and where). We concluded that we had skied something more than 30,000 vertical feet in the day. The limiting factor was the time on the chairlift back up the mountain as these were not the high speed detachable lifts that places like Vail had installed. We marveled that we'd be lucky to get in one-third to one-half that elevation at any of our Eastern US ski areas. Nor could we have skied so fast. Of course, I had also skied down the front side of the mountain and that was another 2,340 foot descent for me.

I mentioned that after my first day of skiing my legs and butt muscles were so tired and that I didn't ski anywhere near this amount of vertical terrain.

"I realized after that day why people who ski a lot have butts that look so good in their stretch ski pants," I said. We all chuckled at that. It was hard to believe that it was just over a year since I had tried skiing for the first time.

I was about halfway through my second beer when I excused myself to find the men's restroom. I picked up my beer to carry with me while I was clomping a winding path through the building of après skiers. One of the things I had learned along the way was never lose sight of what you are drinking (particularly when you are a "single" and there's no one looking out for you). When I returned, Bob asked me where the men's bathroom was and I pointed to where it was. He got up clomped across the deck towards the building and the restroom. That left Cheryl and I sitting there on the deck people watching.

She reached across with her right hand and touched me on my left hand that was resting on the arm of the chair. She squeezed it lightly for a second before gently pulling it back.

"Thank you. I had a lovely day skiing with you," she said.

"You're welcome. I enjoyed skiing with you, too," I said.

"I wish you had ridden down the gondola with us," she said. I remember thinking that I could give the explanation(s) for why I didn't. They included my wanting to finish the day riding my skis down the mountain to the base AND the thought that I had spent all afternoon with her and that, perhaps, she and he needed a little time together without me on the ride down the mountain.

Instead, I asked "Why?"

"Well, skiing makes us horny. We steamed up the gondola pretty good while we rode down," she said and indicated that she and Bob had managed to get in a "quickie" on the ride down.

"It would have been nice to have both of you to ride down the mountain," she said quietly to me with a sly smile and a dreamy look in her eyes as she imagined this.

"So you're sitting here, with Bob's cum leaking out of you?" I asked. She nodded yes.

"I wish you could have watched us, watched him cum as we rode down the gondola," she said. My mind created a mental image of what this would be like inside the confines of the gondola. She paused and looked around for a moment before leaning towards me just a bit and saying "Then, I wish I could have come over to you and then Bob could have watched us fuck and you cum inside me, too."

Another woman who got off thinking about having cum from more than one lover filling her and then dripping out of her. However, she was also another man's wife and in no way had I said anything overtly or casually sexual to her during our skiing together. I got the skiing and horny part, that was the easy part of this.

"Does Bob know this?" I asked. I was getting hard just thinking about this.

"We talked about it. Yes," she said.

Well, in one sense I was correct that something had changed and that something was going on.

"Now, I'm sorry I didn't ride down with you," I said. How did I miss the cues I asked myself. I had correctly sensed something was going on and then dismissed as "just" being about Cheryl and I skiing together so Bob could have the freedom to ski fast on different runs without worrying about Cheryl.

Bob came back to where we were sitting. "Another beer?" he asked.

"I think I'm ready to head back to the condo," I said. I got up to pay the bill. I told them that the beers and nachos were my treat.

We waited for the shuttle to take us back to our condos. While we were waiting, Cheryl asked if I was going to the pool and the hot tubs before we went to dinner. I told her that was my plan. When we got off the shuttle, we planned to meet about 30 minutes later at the hot tubs.

I arrived back at my condo and my condo-mates were there. We had a pleasant conversation about how our days were (they went to Arapahoe Basin) and where we all skied. A-Basin gave them all the classic spring skiing that they had hoped for. I told them about skiing on the backside of Keystone and North Peak. Of course, there was so much terrain on the front side of Keystone, you really couldn't ski it all in one day.

I grabbed a quick shower to wash off the sweat from the day of skiing and the sunscreen that I had applied throughout the day. I put on my white Speedo style swimsuit (by Jantzen. I also had a black one) and then a sweatshirt and sweatpants. There were towels over at the pool, but I grabbed one of mine anyway just in case. I told my condo-mates that I'd be back later and wandered over to the swimming pool. Bob and Cheryl were already there in one of the whirlpool hot tubs. Bob pointed to where their stuff was.

I went over to pickup a couple of pool towels and then to the chairs and table where they had left their clothing. As I was walking away from them, the thought of Cheryl leaking cum into the hot tub came to mind. Well, that was one reason why these pools were highly chlorinated. I tried to put that thought out of my mind because I could feel my penis stirring in my swimsuit. I was facing away from them as I first removed my sweatshirt and then stepped out of my sweatpants.

The Jantzen suit has a "double panel" across the front of the suit so that it doesn't become overly transparent when wet. Nevertheless, it can be "revealing" in terms of bulges and shadows when dry and even more when wet. Though I was watching where I was stepping, I was paying attention to them through averted vision. Both of them were "sizing me up" as I grabbed the railing and stepped down onto the steps into the hot tub. The hot tub was bubbling and the hot water was swirling around. Bob and Cheryl were sitting next to each other on the right side of the tub (from the entry steps). I stepped down into the tub and slid over and sat down on the left side of the hot tub.

"Oh, that feels so good on tired muscles," I said. I leaned my head back against the edge and felt the effects on my muscles as the jets and bubbles rippled across my body parts. Although I couldn't see directly through the swirling air bubbles in the water, I thought Cheryl had her right hand rubbing Bob between his legs and possibly inside his swimming shorts. But, I didn't attempt to look too hard (pun intended) to see if this was occurring. All I said was "Bob, you look very relaxed over there." Cheryl smiled. A few minutes later, the timer on the air blower ran out and the bubbles and jets stopped. As the water slowed it's swirling, I could tell that Bob and Cheryl were "rearranging" themselves.

"I'll get it, " I said as I stood up to step out of the whirlpool tub. I saw Cheryl looking at the bulge in the front of my swimsuit now that it was wet and pulled closer to my abdomen. I walked over to the wall where the timer switch was and pressed it. The pump and blower started again as the jets and air bubbles returned to operation. I turned around and returned to the whirlpool tub. Cheryl's eyes were fixed on my torso before she finally looked up at my face and eyes. She knew that she had been "caught," smiled, and then looked down (though not right away). I figured that she got a view of my ass through the slightly transparent spandex back panel material of my swimsuit. When I stepped down into the whirlpool, I stepped down very slowly on each step so that she could fully appreciate the outline of my bulge before it was submerged in the pool. I returned to the place I was sitting before the timer expired.

If Bob was aware of any of this, he gave no indication because he wasn't looking at either Cheryl or me. A couple of minutes after settling back into the pool, some more of our larger ski group appeared and joined us in the whirlpool. We enjoyed warmth of the water and shared the pleasantries about how the trip was going and how the skiing was going. When the timer expired again, I got up, told everyone that I would restart it for them and, after pushing the start button, headed for the swimming pool to enjoy the cooler water of the pool as I swam a couple of lazy laps. There was also a large sauna at the other end of the pool. I emerged from the other end of the pool and I stepped into the sauna only briefly. Some of our group was in here, too.

I walked along the edge of the pool to the seat where my clothes were, laid out the pool towels, and sat there observing the scene around the indoor pool while the water dripped off me. Bob and Cheryl emerged from the whirlpool tub. Bob walked past to the sauna while Cheryl stopped at her chair. He went into the sauna for a couple of minutes. While he was in there, I commented to Cheryl that he looked very relaxed. With her tacitly telling me what they did in the gondola, I felt a bit more at ease saying something like this to her.

"Oh, we weren't done yet," she said. She told me they practically ripped their skiwear off each other when they got to their condo. "He pushed me down on the bed to fuck me hard, but then I rolled him over and rode him until he came."

"That's my favorite position," I told her. I formed a mental picture of what she looked like being on top of him.

We didn't say anything more about that while we were in the pool area. Bob came out of the sauna, jumped into the pool and spent a couple of minutes swimming around before getting out of the pool and sitting on his chair. We had dinner plans and needed to get cleaned up and ready to go out. I donned my sweatshirt and then my sweatpants, put on my shoes and told them that I'd meet them at the appointed time.

Back at my condo, I made the call to my son to talk to him. I remember telling him just how big Keystone was compared to Snowshoe and told him that I spent much of my day skiing an area on the mountain much like Cupp Run (which he and I saw and would ski together in a few years). With that call completed, I called my new lover. It was a shorter and less contentious call than the previous night. I did tell her that I spent the day skiing with a married couple from Greensboro as we found a really wonderful set of runs on the backside of the mountain and that I planned to go to dinner with them a few others from our group. With that I showered and prepared for dinner.

I don't really remember much about that dinner. I remember being excited about the NASTAR racing the next morning and talking about that. But I think my mind was preoccupied by what Cheryl had shared with me on the deck of the Mountain House. It was difficult for me to assess and guess what was going to happen next. Cheryl seemed to be more flirtatious with me now that I knew what she and Bob had done on the gondola. But, I certainly wasn't going to make a play or a move on Cheryl. That seemed dangerous and foolish on my part.

When we returned from dinner, they invited me to their condo. It was a smaller condo than the one I was staying in. They had it to themselves. I didn't know and didn't ask if they had reserved it for themselves or if someone who had signed up for the trip hadn't shown up and it defaulted to them only. Either way, there were no roommates to contend with.

Bob offered me an Irish coffee (or plain Bailey's Irish Creme) as a nightcap. I wasn't much of a coffee drinker but I loved Irish Creme and I would drink an Irish coffee. While he was brewing coffee for us, Cheryl disappeared back into the bedroom. I took a seat in a chair in the living room. Except for the lights in the kitchen area and over the passthrough to the dining room area, what lights were turned on were dimmed.

Once the coffee was brewed, Bob poured coffee into three clear glass mugs and then added the Irish Creme to each of them. He brought me mine and then called Cheryl to let her know her Irish coffee was ready.

I suspected that something was going on because of the dimmed lights and Cheryl being "missing" and Bob seemed "talkative" (like he didn't want the silence because he knew what was happening or about to happen). She came out of the master bedroom area wearing a sheer black babydoll nightie and a sheer thong panty. Of course, she was immediately attention grabbing because of the outfit and it revealed her breasts and butt in a way that her bathing suit had not. Actually, I found her stunning. She came into the living room area between the chair where I was sitting and the couch and twirled around to model it for us. Bob had set down the Irish coffees on the end tables. But, he was still standing as she walked into the living room area.

At first, I was speechless.

"Well?" she asked.

I said what I thought; "What a surprise! You look stunning!"

There was an awkward silence as she was standing there. I immediately surmised that this was the plan and wasn't accidental; like maybe the "nightcap" I had missed the previous evening. But I felt very uncomfortable in that moment, like I should excuse myself and say something like "maybe I should leave so that you two can be alone." The thought was there. The words weren't.

More silence.

"So, do you want to fuck my wife?" Bob asked.

It was a raw question with what seemed like a sharp edge to it and I perceived it as threatening. There was no apparent joviality to the way he asked it (or if there was, I completely missed it). And there were so many other ways to ask the same question or to suggest what they wanted next.

"Here we go again," I thought.

(To Be Continued in Part 2)