Summer Ch 17

Chapter 17 Sue goes swimming

Sue was still deeply troubled by the changes this summer had wrought in her life and in herself and she was still trying desperately to come to terms with her burgeoning sexuality, trying to make sense of the mores and conventions that she was breaking with an easy recklessness in her newfound sexual freedom. Nothing she had ever done had affected her so profoundly or completely as discovering the joy of sex, it had rocked her to her very foundations. She loved it, loved losing her clothes, opening her legs; being touched and taken, being wanted, and being desired.

She was no fool, she knew where this path could lead and the possible consequences of her actions, and reactions, to the situations she found herself in, or quite possibly to the situations she perhaps knowingly put herself in. So far she had enjoyed every situation she had found herself in Even the scary one with the usher at the cinema had, in retrospect, turned her on and she had walked away from each on a sexual high that had left her wet and weak. Nothing had stilled her desire for more. She had enjoyed the scary fringes of her sexuality almost as much she had enjoyed the safe, warm and wonderful, sex in bed she had enjoyed the previous night; and she had loved it, she loved it all including the frisson that the edge of safety brought and that worried her. She began to wonder if she was normal

Despite the fact that technically she had only lost her virginity the previous evening the list of men who now had had intimate knowledge of her body was growing with a rapidity that alarmed her. .She needed a little space, a little time to think, so she packed her towel and swimming costume into her duffel bag and slipped out of the house and caught a bus into town. She walked the short distance to the local swimming baths. Her heart fell when she turned the corner and saw the queue outside the baths. In the hot weather it seemed like half the town had the same idea and the queue for the next ‘session’ was already long, snaking back around the front of the building. Despite her reservations when she saw the queue begin to move she joined on to the end and slowly shuffled forward with the rest.

Once inside she changed into her one piece black swimsuit and made her way to the pool. The noise of people under the arched roof of the pool was fierce and she almost turned back, this was not the quiet venue she had been looking for; but she had paid her money and the water, although already crowded, looked cool and inviting. She made her way down the length of the pool, past the screaming and splashing kids and families to the sectioned off area where the ‘lane swimmers’ go.

This half the pool was roped off into lanes for the serious swimmer, the people who wanted to swim shortened lengths. Even this section was crowded but Sue lowered herself into the water, catching her breath at the sudden chill, and pushed off, weaving through the swimmers, aiming vaguely for the other side.

Sue swam a slow confident breast stroke and after a while the rhythmic exercise and the water began to have a soothing effect on her. “This was a good idea after all’ she thought to herself, feeling her muscles begin to unwind and her mood begin to lift. She had almost switched off, lost in her thoughts when suddenly someone swimming in the opposite direction came too close and their hands briefly touched. The touch was fleeting and she vaguely heard a man’s receding voice call ‘Sorry’ as he swam past and away. This first time she gave the incident no thought, just an accident, the pool being so busy.

As she made her slow turn at the end of her lap she look for the man who had touched her, if she could recognise him from the fleeting contact, but he was lost somewhere in the press of swimmers. Settling back into her stroke again she tried to concentrate on relaxing again but the casual touch had disturbed her and she found her waiting to see if he would pass by again

This time she was sure that the touch was deliberate, a brief touch on the arm, a quick blurred vision of the swimmer as he passed. Yet somehow this time she was sure that the touch had been intentional, she could feel his fingers as they slid down her arm, somehow an implied caress more than an accidental touch.

She began to look for him in the press of swimmers but it could have been any one of the numerous men around her. She slowed down to give herself more time to look. When she turned at the end of her length she spotted him, he was smiling at her as he swam towards her with a strong, confident stroke. She knew instinctively it was him, he was watching her, half smiling as he narrowed the distance between them, swimming straight for her..

He closed the distance quickly, a much faster swimmer than her. And as they close with each other she found herself looking away, strangely embarrassed by his easy, confident gaze. As she raised her eyes she found she was suddenly looking directly into his pale blue eyes and she quickly looked away again. From that first glace she ascertained that he was quite obviously older than her, not a great deal but enough to allow him the arrogance of staring.

This time, as he swam past, he deliberately made contact, stroking his hand down her arm, upper arm to shoulder, deliberate and slow. This time there was no hurried call of ‘sorry’.

Sue was shocked and yet intrigued, the sudden unlooked for intimacy both repelled and attracted her with equal measure. She wanted to know more. When she turned again at the end of her length she immediately looked for him, trying to pick him out from the mass of bobbing heads. When she finally recognised him she saw that he had already turned and was closer to her than she expected, swimming easily, strongly, quickly closing the gap, coming up quickly behind her.

As they closed again she could see that his eyes were still fixed deliberately on her and her heart suddenly began to beat a little faster and she felt that first slow tingle in her nerves, the first brief flicker of interest; this man was stalking her. She pushed off from the side and swam slowly straight towards him, accepting the challenge, watching to what he would do.

He kept eye contact, swimming almost directly at her, passing her so closely that she had to shorten her stroke to avoid him. This time his hand brushed the outside of her thigh and briefly up onto and over her bottom before he was passed her again. She gasped at the audacity, a definite and deliberate stroke, a glancing intimacy that would only be possible in a crowded swimming pool; and her stroke faltered, as she wallowed in the wake of his passing. She looked over her shoulder but he was already at the end of the lane and again she feels the first stirrings of arousal, the small flame that comes with the awareness of interest, the sudden flicker of warmth that the sudden and unexpected presence of possibility presents.

She swam slowly, acutely aware of the intimacy of his last touch, her breath somehow catching in her throat, her body suddenly alive In anticipation of his next move.

She was aware that he was now behind her somewhere; drawing closer, closing the distance. At the end of the lane she paused for a moment, holding onto the rail at the side of the pool to catch her breath. She casually looked around to see where he was when suddenly he was there beside her, holding onto the rail next to her. His wash hit her in the face and she turned her head away. “Sorry” he smiled coming to a stop at the side of her, holding on to the rail with one hand, “Going a bit too fast I think.”

“Not a problem” she said, wiping her face with her hand, taking her time to get a good look at him. Close to she realised that he was actually older than she had first thought but he was one of those men who is difficult to pin an age to and as he held the rail next to her she could see his well muscled arms and upper torso, the physique of a regular and dedicated swimmer “Sorry if I bumped you back there. I’m a little out of practice, I don’t breaststroke that much anymore.”

She looked at him, unsure of how to respond. “You swim well“ she said and he shrugged depreciatingly, “better than me anyway,” she finished, tailing off lamely, suddenly intimidated by the sheer size of the man beside her, he seemed to dwarf her somehow, make her feel small.

He paused and studied her for a moment, “I swim a lot,” he said at length, “always have. I enjoy it. And you?” He enquired, his eyes moving slowly over her face, her shoulders and then, conspicuously, down to what he could see of her breasts and figure below the waterline. With his eyes clearly appraising her body Sue again felt that familiar sexual lurch in her stomach; the one that always seemed to happen when someone desired her; and this man was making no bones about his interested in her. He swung closer, the water drifting his body into casual contact with hers. “Oops” he said with a smile, making no attempt to move away, “Sorry”.

Sue smiled back, suddenly unsure in front of this man’s obvious and easy predatory confidence. Beneath the water his hand moved onto her hip as if to steady himself as another wave from yet another swimmer pushed them together again. This time he made no apology or attempt to move away, to give her space, to stop crowding her with his casual intimacy. The hand stayed there, just resting on the top of her hipbone, holding her waist, casually and easily.

Sue looked around, they were surrounded by people and yet somehow the pool seemed suddenly empty and quiet. She was only aware of the stranger and his softly resting hand. “Do you swim much?” He asked, his hand now gently feeling at her waist, moving over her with an easy, confident, familiarity. “It feels as if you do.” he said, acknowledging his intimate touch, giving credence to his exploration of her waist, “or at least you seem to work out.”

“Not much,” she said quietly, aware that his fingers were now gently exploring the shape of her hip and the soft outside curve of her bottom, briefly touching the bare skin below the leg of her costume, “but I exercise a lot.”

“I can tell that,” he said, his hand moving higher, stealing softly up her ribcage, feeling the shape, his thumb briefly touching the underside of her breast. “Not an ounce of fat on you, anywhere,” he said openly stroking back down her flank, armpit to thigh, savouring the feel of her, gentling, talking quietly and taking control. Sue looked around again; no one was paying them the least attention. Two swimmers touched the wall alongside him and turned at a fast crawl and pushed away again. As if to get out of their way he slowly swung himself around her as if to shield her from the crowd

He gripped the rail on either side of her, enclosing her, his body pressing up against her from behind, his body warmth turning the water cold, bringing her out in sudden goose bumps. He moved against her, his whole body softly pressing up against her back, his penis, unmistakably hardening, rubbing up against her bottom. He made no attempt to move, just held himself there, gently pressing up against her back letting her feel his erection.

Sue bit her lip, the warmth of him, their bodies touching, moving with the water, was unbelievably erotic. She hung her head slightly. He let go of the rail with one hand, holding himself in place with the other and placed his arm easily but deliberately around her waist, his hand on her tummy. He gently pulled her closer, back, into his body, making his erection impossible to ignore. He spread his fingers wide, experimenting, exploring her tummy. Her acceptance of the intimacy, his hand on her tummy, signalled her acquiescence to the act and his fingers moved in ever widening circles, each movement slowly expanding his area of permissible familiarity with her body.

“See,” he said quietly, his hand soft on her tummy, his mouth almost at her ear, “not a trace of fat anywhere.” Sue nodded vaguely, his warm body behind her and his arms encircling her created an intimacy from which it was hard to escape. He explored her tummy for a while longer moving the material of her costume over her skin, pulling the material tight as his hand moved over her with a blind, easy confidence; brushing lightly at the underside of her breasts and then travelling down to the top of her pubic mound. His hand travelled where it wanted, casually expanding its license, anesthetizing her objections. She relaxed against him, his voice warm in her ear, the noise and bustle of the pool faded from notice.

His hand cupped her breast, softly, naturally and she closed her eyes, feeling his warmth soak through the thin material of her swim suit. He squeezed gently and she felt her nipple harden at his touch. He covered her breast, moulding it with his fingers, softly at first but gradually gaining confidence; her silence giving her consent to this latest advance. He found her nipple, his fingers teasing it, drawing it out through the thin material. She pressed her legs together as he played with her, amazed at how sensitive she felt as he teased her nipple erect, making it stand hard and proud, eager for his touch.

As if to make sure that it had not been an accident that she had allowed him the freedom of her breast his hand moved across to her other breast; squeezing gently, taking hold of her other nipple, drawing it erect and hard. She shivered and closed her eyes, his hand the sole focus of her attention, her breasts glowing, her nipples painfully hard. He laughed and pressed his erection against her bottom and instinctively she pressed back drawing a deep and liquid chuckle from him and he squeezed her breast in response.

He ran his hand up and over her chest to her throat, caressing the soft taut skin of her neck and she almost purred as she raised her chin for his to caress her. No one had ever taken possession of her like this. He pulled her back into him, his hand around her throat, his strength, his control, his masculinity almost overpowering her.. Then, as his hand moved back down over her chest, without warning, he hooked a finger into the front of her swimming costume and in one easy movement he simply drew the top down over her breast. She gasped at his audacity and her sudden exposure although she made no attempt to stop him. Startled, she looked down at her naked breast, its shape shifting and swirling just below the surface of the water. She stared at it as if it belonged to someone else She thought it quite beautiful, her nipple roseate and enlarged against the sheer white of her breast, detaching itself and rejoining as the water played tricks on her perception. They stayed like that for a few moments, holding their collective breath in quiet anticipation of a reaction, until, receiving none. his hand moved up and cupped her naked breast.

“Are you OK?” he asked quietly, his hand now fully exploring her naked breast, moving over it, feeling its shape. She nodded silently, his fingers finally finding and teasing her soft, sensitive nipple. She shivered involuntarily as his fingers released their hold and then, pulling the remainder of her costume down completely below her breasts his hand slowly moved across to her other breast. He cupped it slowly and deliberately, taking possession easily, naturally. She felt as if his hand had always been there, holding her. Cupping her breast in the palm of his hand his long nimble fingers teased her nipple erect. “Beautiful nipples” he said at last.

“Thanks” she responded, unable to think of anything else to say, her eyes closed, concentrating only on the feeling of his fingers at her breasts.

He continued to manipulate her, teasing her nipples out between his fingers, pulling first one, then the other, before cupping and kneading her breast. She could do nothing, she was lost in the intimacy of the moment, the feeling of his fingers, his erection hard against her bottom, the curtain of intimacy created by his arms around her, his hand gripping the rail, blocking out the rest of the world. She rested her head back into his shoulder, her breath slowly becoming ragged. “Can you stand?” he asked, his hand relinquishing her breast to hold the rail again. She put her feet down,

“Just,” she said.

“Good, stand there,” and as soon as her feet touched the floor his hand left the rail and cupped her breasts again. His hand was hot against her skin, She was amazed at how turned on she was, her nipples ached to be touched. She could still feel his penis, hard, against her bottom and she softly pushed back into it.

His hand released her breast again and slowly travelled down across her tummy and then back to her hip, almost as if helping her, steadying her. She looked down at her naked breasts, pale and free below the water, almost floating, her erect nipples clearly visible to anyone taking the trouble to look. She felt his hand move down off her hip until it rested on her bare skin at the top of her leg. She shivered at his touch, his casual intimacy with her, his knowledge of her needs, absolutely compelling. Suddenly his fingers slipped under the thin material of her swimsuit and in one movement came to rest on her pubic hair, his hand confidently cupping her mound, his fingers finding and following the shape of her sex. She started and made to move away. “Wait,” she said without conviction, “you can’t...” but his fingers had already found their way down between her legs and were softly feeling between the folds of her labia, opening her up.

“Beautiful,” he said and she gasped as his fingers slipped inside her.

His fingers curled back against her pelvic bone, holding her close, pulling her back against him; he was showing his mastery of her and the situation, holding her there, pinning her in position for his further use and inspection. She moaned and opened her legs as the sensations speared up through her. Even had she wanted to she could not have moved away, she was held, impaled, she could now only follow the dictates of his fingers. She gripped the rail until her knuckles went white with the effort. His free arm came around her and cupped her breast again while his thumb found her already erect clitoris and brushed lightly across it. Sue sagged, she gripped the rail so tight she thought her fingers might break, oblivious now to everything except the feeling of those wonderful fingers buried deep between her legs and the others at her breast.

He laughed quietly, his breath spilling hot against her ear, “You like that don’t you?” She nodded, the sensations spiralling up through her from her groin. He gripped her harder and she groaned, her legs feeling weak. She gripped his arm and her head fell forward almost to the water and he laughed again. She looked down her body at his hand at her naked breast, her nipple between his fingers and the other hand inside her swimsuit, moving between her legs, all in motion, swirling with the patterns of the ripples and the shining of the lights on the water.

His fingers began a steady movement inside her, his thumb stroking the hard nub of her clitoris. She was lost and she cried out. The sensation, building with such rapidity that it took her breath away. His fingers continued to move inside her, opening her up, dazzling her, blinding her to everything except the sensation. She rode his fingers, the probing intimacy of his embrace and she cried out, a soft burst of joy at the wonderment of what he was doing to her and then she came; a brief wracking explosion of feeling that left her weak and dazed, hanging on to the rail and his arm to stop herself from sliding down beneath the water.