It was a stinking hot summer's day when I went around to Naomi's place. She'd called up and told me to come over and jump in the pool. Several others were also coming. I was not in the least reluctant to go and jump in a nice cool pool with some good companionship. I hastened around to Naomi's place as fast as my feet could move, which wasn't all that fast, because it was stinking hot.
Adam, Naomi's father was in the front yard, doing gardening. Sooner him than me, I assure you. Adam was a big man with a really dark tan and he was only wearing shorts. He looked quite a splendid example of an older male. Ah, don't think I was getting a crush on him just because I said he looked fine. That older signifies that he's about double my age. Forty, at least.
I joined Naomi and the others and we had a ball. A fairly even mix of boys and girls and we swam and flirted and played around. Nothing serious. We were just young people taking it easy on a hot day.
Eventually it was time that I had to head on home. I started making goodbye noises and Naomi suggested that I swing past the bathroom first and have a quick shower.
"Chlorine can really wreck your hair if you don't shower pretty quickly after getting out. Green hair is so déclassé."
She was right about that. I nodded and wandered into the house to grab a quick shower. I stepped out of the shower to get dried and dressed and Adam walked into the bathroom. Entirely my fault, I guess. I didn't push the snib on the handle to lock the door. I froze for a second, staring at him, and then frantically grabbed for the towel, holding it in front of me.
"Oops," said Adam, a big smile on his face.
With that he reached out and calmly plucked the towel out of my grasp. He didn't yank it out of my hand. He just took hold of it and lifted it out of fingers that seemed unable to grasp it. My mind couldn't seem to grasp the fact that he'd done so, either, and I just stood there, deer in the spotlight, hand between my breasts as though I was still clutching the towel.
He looked me over quite thoroughly, smiling the entire time, enjoying the scenery, apparently. Then he reached out a hand behind him and pressed the snib on the door while his other hand reached out and pulled me firmly against him.
He had a hand in the middle of my back and the other one was resting on my bottom, holding me quite firmly against him. The hand on my back was one thing. The one on my bottom was something else again. I am of a relatively petite size and his hand completely covered my bottom. His fingers were spread and I could feel his big finger was pressing against the cleft in my bottom and it was almost touching my whooshka, if you get what I mean.
And I could feel his arousal pressing against me through his shorts. How dare he get aroused just by looking at me?
