Getting Naked in the ATL

Hubby decided to treat me to a day at the spa for our anniversary. Little did I know that I would end up buck naked with lots of other buck naked women sitting in hot tubs.

The Korean sauna (jim jil bang) hubby chose was no hole-in-the-wall Asian joint crammed between a dry cleaner and a Chinese Buffet. This was a Walmart-sized establishment that’s open 24/7.

At the reception desk, we were handed spa wear (shorts & shirt), a locker key for our personal belongings, and a tooth brush. (These folks are way into cleanliness)

I headed for the women’s locker room, hubby went to the men’s. I think he had visions of us soaking in some mud bath while sipping green tea and becoming one with the universe. It didn’t happen.

My guide told me to take EVERYTHING off and follow her into the sauna area where other women, also with EVERYTHING off were sitting in hot tubs, sweating in saunas, or relaxing under infrared lights.

I don’t want to appear lascivious, but I saw everything from a bony little eight-year-old girl, to a woman whose breasts literally sagged to the first crease of her protruding belly. There were women with no ass; big thighs; itty-bittys; and yes, fabulous figures.

(Imagine hubby over in the men’s area trying to avert his eyes from all the dangling wankers and hairy butts!)

There were three hot tub choices: Hot, Hot, or Freezing. Actually, my guide said hot, warm, or cold, but trust me, the ‘warm’ was plenty hot. After 15 minutes, it was actually refreshing to hop quickly into the cold tub. (Also known as the ice plunge.)

Next, I was ushered into a smaller room with eight massage tables, where seven naked women were splayed, getting their elbows, and knees, and bellies scrubbed with loofa mitts. The Korean women doing the scrubbing were dressed in bras and panties. (I guess to make us less conscious of the fact that we were all naked.)

Believe me when I say that every square inch of my body was scrubbed. (Okay, she didn’t hit the booty, or the twat, or the nips. Everything else was fair game.) Sometimes she would dip a pan into warm water and splash me to wash away what she’d scrubbed off. Then she scrubbed some more.

When she was done, I could actually see brown bits of me on the table that had been ‘exfoliated’. I was afraid she’d completely removed the tan I’d gotten this summer.

The spa also offered massages, and something called a hip bath. Women in the hip bath area sat on a stool like a toilet. A pot of steaming herbs was placed on the floor beneath their lady parts, and the women were wrapped in a pink shower curtain cinched at the neck while said parts got rejuvenated.

After my scrub, I dressed in my spa shorts and shirt to join hubby in the co-ed section of the spa. (He’d skipped the body scrub, and the massage with no modesty sheet.)

This common area had three huge stone igloos with different types of saunas: rock salt to increase blood circulation, charcoal to absorb your body’s toxins, semi-precious stones with calming powers. There was a swimming pool, restaurant, exercise room, even TVs where couples and friends relaxed on the heated floors. It could easily be an all-day affair.

All-in-all it was an exhilarating and relaxing experience. Hubby even got his happy ending. Although that was later when we got home.










3 Replies to “Getting Naked in the ATL”

  1. You are one brave woman. I could not have done it. I hated changing clothes in the locker room in high school for gym class.

    1. I think you were pretty brave to dodge the poo-flinger in San Fran. (And by the way, it looks like you aren’t having any trouble stepping out of that thong on your web page, girlfriend.)

  2. After reading about contagions and germs and one touch catching, reading about the naked group -sit in a hot tub had my skin crawling. Nice job!
    Elaine Ash
    PS Thanks for the follow and message on Twitter. Much appreciated.

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