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A Pirate Night Dance! Clothing Optional! How could I not go…
I stop at a BP gas station for cash and booze. If I’m going to a Pirate Dance, with naked people, alone … I’m not going sober! But before I pull in I call my bestie to relay the order of events. I end the convo with the…”It’s Pirate Night and there’s a Pirate Dance…” Without skipping a beat, my bestie yells “SLAY! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL MARRIED WOMEN IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD – GO TO THE DAMN DANCE”.
So I did.
I pull up to my Dirty Dancing Resort, only it’s not a Dirty Dancing Resort. It’s a Dirty Dirty Dirty Resort of the best kind. Huge gates at the entrance, everything dimly lit, a sweet smell of gardenias…and George in a golf cart.
George is the co-owner of Northaven (one H) with Mo, with whom I negotiated my cabin stay. George is a shorter man, with bleached blond hair (think Billy Idol) and yes, he was wearing shorts. (first thing I looked for). Oddly terrifying, but definitely intriguing.
I follow George to the check-in to pay and get my keys. It is immediately obvious that this is not merely a “clothing optional” resort. It is a full-fledged, Adult Consensual Only, BDSM Resort. What the Actual F***. LFG!
The Cabin, The Pirate Dance
George escorts me up a big hill, it’s pitch black so I haven’t really seen the lay of the land. I know there are campsites with lots of tents and motorhomes, but I really can’t see more than shadows. On the way up the hill to my cabin, I meekly say to George, “This isn’t just a “clothing optional” resort, is it?” George gives me a devilish grin and responds, “No.”
So there you have it! I’ve happened upon a full-fledged BDSM resort, in the middle of nowhere, by myself, on a NASCAR race weekend.
Turns out, the cabin is PRISTINE. Made out of pine, newly renovated, fireplace – the thing is gorgeous.
George turns to leave, really selling this Pirate Dance and its strobe lights and I say, “Hey George, before you go, may I have my keys please?” George gives me a somewhat incredulous look and says, “There are no keys here! The sliding door locks from the inside! You’re fine at night!”
Of course there are no keys.
So I proceed to do what any woman would do in this situation (not!), and I drink a bottle of pinot grigio is minus-three-minutes, put on some cute short-shorts and a tank, check myself in the mirror x1000 times…and go to The Pirate Dance.
And that’s where I meet…The Pirate!
Sidebar: if you want to attend this year’s Pirate Weekend, I suggest you do! Click HERE
I roll up to the Hotel California Lounge , not knowing what to expect (obviously). The greeters were lovely and partially clothed; patches in carefully place spots. I asked where the bar was and they said “there is no bar onsite, for safety reasons.” Oh. Probably for the best! Aside from the luminous strobe lights, the first thing I see when I walk in is a massive cage with a woman inside, clearly enjoying herself, with a dog collar on her neck that is attached to a leash that a stunning man is holding, outside of the cage. Wow. She was absolutely stunning, leather in interesting places and writhing to the music. Lots of sweat.
A LOT OF LEATHER EVERYWHERE
I was fast approached by a tall, muscular man with a glistening pumped-up chest. He asked if I SWING. I looked around to indicate I was there alone and said, “With whom exactly?!” He liked my cheekiness and brought me over to meet his woman. (I gotta say – every single person in the Hotel California Lounge was HOT. When people think of Nudist Camps, their minds go to unattractive, overweight people. Northaven Resort is the actual POLAR OPPOSITE. I think because it’s really a BDSM resort, that’s the differentiator).
The Pirate‘s wife had shiny, dark hair loosely piled atop her head. Long beautiful eyelashes, piercing blue eyes and perfectly white teeth. She was wearing very little, as one would expect; a harness of some sort with her breasts exposed and tiny black skirt. It was so loud we could barely hear each other speak, but speaking is not why we were there…
The rest of the evening melted into the morning as we lost track of time. I opened my eyes and remember that the sky was starting to lighten and the first sign of dawn was approaching. I looked around to survey the aftermath of an amazing night, chugged a half empty beer (because it was there) and threw my clothes on. I executed the perfect Irish Goodbye, went back to my cabin to get ready for the race!
W H A T A N I G H T
Who's the most popular guy at the nudist colony?
