You're lying on a lounge chair, out by the pool, basking in the faint breeze and warm sunshine of a beautiful Florida afternoon. Your favorite song is on the radio and the book you're reading is amazing.
You slip your bookmark between the pages and sigh. This could be such a perfect day- if only you weren't alone. He was supposed to be here by now, but his flight got cancelled. You haven't seen him in almost two months, and some German airline has the nerve to make you wait two more days.
You were so excited when he called this morning, just hearing the sound of his voice made your body tingle and knowing that his touch would soon be accompanying his voice had made you wet. But he told you he wouldn't be coming home today.. you'd have to wait a little longer...
Your body aches for him... you can still remember everything about the night before he left- his lips and hands all over you... you can almost still feel it... and you think you may die if you have to wait much longer to feel him again.
You get up, throwing your book on the lounge chair, and look around.. it's the middle of the day... you usually reserve your exhibitionist urges for after dark- but you're bored and lonely.. and want to be submersed and surrounded by something.. if not him.. then water will have to do.
You take your swimming suit off and wade slowly into the pool. You tug the scrunchie out of your hair, allowing it to fall down around your shoulders. You slip beneath the water, then resurface, pushing your hair back out of your eyes. The pool is significantly cooler than the air, teasing your nipples to attention with the chill. You lie back, floating, kicking your legs slightly and moving your arms through the water to slowly propel yourself across the pool... unaware that the eyes you long to be looking into have been carefully observing your every move...
He's torn on what to do- he wants to keep watching you... he loves this scene- you and his element, as one. Part of him wants to join you, but then you'd be aware of his presence and that would ruin the surprise. He wants to startle you, shock you- the whole reason he'd lied about the flight was to give him the opportunity to completely surprise you. He can't take his eyes off of you as you begin to do laps- first the breaststroke and then butterfly.
You begin to lose yourself in the freedom of the cool water. You dive under, staying submerged for the entire length of the pool, coming up to gasp for air then going back under.
He realizes that you're doing your usual workout routine, and he knows he'll have enough time to 'take care of things' before you get out.
He's feeling a little nasty from being on the plane all day and hurries to the shower, regretfully leaving you and the pool behind. Being apart from you for two months has taken it's toll on his body- his cock painfully hard and in need of attention, and he wants to be sure nothing happens too fast when he finally gets ahold of you. He's been waiting too long for it not to last for hours when he has you in his arms again.
As you continue your laps in the pool, he is slipping out of his clothes and into the shower. You both revel in the feel of the waters around you, thoughts of the other flooding each of your minds.
You make it across the pool a few more times and decide you can bear it no more. Your mind is lost in thoughts of him and your body is aching to be touched, if he can't, you will, but not here. You get out of the pool, gather your things and go inside.
Immediately upon stepping inside the door, you sense that something is not right. You dismiss the intuition, perhaps you're just so overcome with the emotions you're feeling right now- the longing for him, the need for release- that things seem a little off-kilter.
As you walk towards your bedroom, the apprehension returns. You can hear something, it sounds like the shower, but how would that be possible? You creep into the room- the bathroom door is closed and the shower is definitely running. Who the fuck is in your house?? No one could get in here...
You approach the bathroom door, and notice a pile of clothes on the floor. Only the tiniest part of you is afraid, suspicious- the rest of you, oddly calm. You grab the clothes, immediately recognizing the shirt and his unmistakable scent that lingered on it. But why the hell would he be home? He said he couldn't make it, his flight was cancelled, why would he have lied?
You begin thinking and quickly remember a little "tiff" the two of you had not too long ago. You'd become somewhat bored with the predictability of your relationship with him. You know his next move before he even makes it- the way he rolls over to kiss you in the morning, what he'll want for breakfast, the words he'll mumble at night when you fall into bed... even sex wasn't what it used to be. You'd told him this.. and he'd said just wait- he'd surprise you soon enough.
