Disclaimer: This is a story of fiction. While the setting is real, the people and events are not. Everyone is of legal age or older (18+) and all sex is consensual.
Includes: voyeurism, masturbation, cunnilingus, and M/F sex.
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My apartment building has a pool, gym, and sauna... Southern California is a different world. The weather is amazing, so the pools are open year-round.
The other day I went for my early morning swim and workout. While I was swimming laps, another apartment dweller arrived at the pool. She was tall with long medium brunette hair, in her late 30's, early 40's, wearing a bright flowered sundress which accentuated her dark tan skin. Stopping next to one of the loungers, she dropped her canvas tote bag and pulled off her dress in one smooth motion. Her swimsuit was a black one piece, the kind you'd see at swim meets with high leg openings showing the full length of her muscular legs. She was too old to be a college athlete, but her body proves she used to be. She twisted her hair into a tight bun and wrapped a hair band around it, obviously getting ready to swim herself.
I'd like to say I'm not your typical male, contemplating sex with every female within visibility, but that would be a lie. It's not that I think about having sex with every woman I see, but I do have lots of sexual thoughts. Maybe their nipples are visible in the fabric of their shirt, and I notice them, or I ponder what their butt would feel like if I were to reach out and caress it. I don't, but the thoughts are still there. I'd like to not be that person. When I catch myself staring at a woman sexually, I try and find ways to think about something else.
The woman at the pool was coming to swim, not be sexually accessed. I was already swimming, half way through my 30th lap. Maybe I should focus on my technique and not her physique. Are my arms arching over my head the right way, or are my hand gliding in the water? The answer is no and no. My hands don't slap the water like a frantic puppy, but there is no grace to my movement. Still, I try and focus on that and not woman in the dark speedo with long legs.
Reaching the end of my lap, I attempted a flip turn and failed miserably. A fair portion of the pool splashed out onto the concrete and my body contorted as I tried to push off heading the other direction. Mostly, I looked like a drowning bird flapping his wings under the water, struggling to get back to the surface. The woman strode over to the lane next to mine and dove into the water without making a ripple. Within a few strokes, she glided past me with ease. She had to laugh to herself while she passed me by, "Poor old guy. At least he's out here trying." My ego couldn't take much more, so I finished my lap and headed for the gym.
It was an arm day, so I did my normal routing with hand weights. This also gave me a chance to stare out the windows at the pool. The swimmer was incredibly graceful. Her hands slid into the water as if they were made for it. The wake behind her was practically non-existent. She was a sight to behold.
When I was done with the gym, I grabbed my gym bag--which included a towel and a change of clothes--and stepped over to the jacuzzi for 10 mins. I hadn't broken a sweat with the workout as the pool water was keeping me cool, but the jacuzzi was next to the pool on a raised platform. This allowed me a wonderful view of the swimmer swimming her laps. Even though she'd been swimming for nearly half an hour, there was no change in her grace. She didn't look at all tired. My nearly 60-year-old body had serious envy. Even though I try and get to the gym and/or pool five days a week, I felt my age.
She finished off a lap, raised her head to look over at me in the jacuzzi. With a soft smile, she pushed her arms on the edge of the pool and lifted herself out. She must be part seal because the water seemed to just slide off her body. She grabbed her bag and dress, then headed to the showers.
Thinking this was the end of the show, I stepped out of the jacuzzi and headed to the sauna located between the men's and women's showers.
The sauna is a small room with a long wooden bench on each side, just long enough for one person to lay down. The door has a translucent window which lets in light. There is a small light overhead, but unless it's dark out, you'd never know the light was on. The room was basically a dim pine closet with a robust heater.
I set my towel down on the far end of one of the benches and pulled out a book. With my back to the wall, I put one foot on the bench, knee up to help prop up the book, and the other foot on the floor. This allows me to spread my legs and really soak in the heat. I didn't get more than one page read when the woman peaked her head in, "Would you mind company?"
Sure," I replied, "come on in."
The woman had a beige bath towel wrapped around her. While it covered her from chest to thighs, it only just did so. This is a family apartment complex, so swimsuits are required in the pool, jacuzzi, and sauna. I assumed she had her suit underneath, but with the skimpy towel, my thoughts ran to wondering what if she didn't. I grinned and then dove back to my book.
As she lay on the bench, her towel moved just enough to show a glimpse of her dark pubic hair. Any chance of not thinking sexual thoughts went right out the door. She was deft enough to flip the towel back without making it look like she was overtly trying to cover herself and yet in the same instance make sure she was completely covered. My imagination pondered all sorts of questions, where her nipples erect because of the cool pool water, or was she secretly trying to expose herself? If she was trying to expose herself, was she wet between her legs?
Stop it! Of course, she's wet between her legs. She was just swimming. Go back to your book!
I returned to my pages, but my attention was on her. With her head to the door, her feet were stretched out on the bench toward me at the far corner. She lifted her head, undid the hair band, and let her brunette hair floor out over the wooden bench. I inhaled deeply trying to catch her scent. I'm terrible.
Maybe it was wishful thinking, but maybe I have some latent physic ability. While she lay enjoying the heat, the lean muscles in her long legs shifted and flexed. First, a corner of the towel slipped, then more and more of the edge peeled away from her body to hang off the bench. Her dark curly bush was almost completely visible. There wasn't a lot of light in the sauna and the shadows along her tan skin made the first observations questionable, but by the time the towel was hanging off, the curly hair was clearly visible.
The next thing I know she raised the leg next to the wall, which not only fully uncovered her bush, but provided me with glimpse of her vulva. This proved her skin color was naturally brown, rather than just a tan. The folds of her labia were the same color as her thighs. I could go on with a host of thoughts that popped into my head at that moment, but just as I looked away trying not to stare, she turns to me, opens her eyes, and asks, "What are you reading?"
"Goliath by Westerfeld."
"Young adult literature?" she asked with an air of surprise.
"It is. Do you know it?"
"I know Westerfeld. Lovely author, it just isn't what I expected you to say."
"Were you thinking I'd be more inclined toward Ian Banks or Tom Clancy?"
"No. It's just you're reacting like your book has some 'interesting' sections in it."
Her head was turned toward me, and her eyes were staring straight at me. There was a brief pause and suddenly I twigged to the fact my cock was standing straight up in my swim shorts. They were board shorts, but the thin fabric did nothing to hold down my raging erection.
I lowered my book down over my crotch and apologized.
"No need," she replied. "I don't mind the view. It did make me curious as to what you were reading to get such a 'lovely' response."
