The Shape of Water

The chlorine was overpowering in my nostrils. Working day in and day out at a pool could get repetitive. Swimming had always felt natural to me, the flow of water over my body as I went gliding along a lane was relaxing. I started working at the pool three years ago. I was young then, now I was a little bit older. The pool had been my first job, it taught me confidence. It was work, but it was also lifestyle. I hated the smell of chlorine and yet in a way it began to smell like home. It was constant.

There was another constant too: her. She was just barely my senior, but she would never let me forget that. We had always known each other, but not well. That changed quickly once we were bonded by experience. Day in, day out. The work stayed the same and the ice melted. It was a starter job but it paid good money. The real reward however, was spending time with her. Her laugh was the most rewarding thing of all. What a goofball. It would start slow and then begin to roll. She didn't want me to think I was funny and tried to hold it back. Nothing felt better than that drawing out that reluctant laugh.

Then there were the little glances, stolen looks throughout a busy day. With each peek we drank each other in. Maybe sipped would be more appropriate. It was never more than a moment, a respite in the middle of an otherwise hectic schedule. Our eyes met and I was reminded why I loved the job. It was her hair, long and curly, drenched as it clung to her back when she surfaced above the water. It was the gentle curve of her hip, shapely and just right on her frame. It was the nonchalant smile, knowingly meeting my eyes.

The chlorine hit me again as I snapped back to my body. It was 8pm and close to the end of our shift. Climbing out of the water I dried off and took a look across the deck of the pool. The lane swim was almost done and she peered at some senior's doing jazzercize. I waved and she waved back, then I went to grab a towel. Now we just had to lock up and we were home free.

I shivered as a wave of cold washed over my skin. That was the sensation I hated second-most. My arms were ashy, the chlorine was too much for any skin care routine. I hit the switch for the radio and cut the music, signaling the end of the lane swim. Slowly the senior's shuffled out, she locked the gates, and strode to the office where I was waiting. Her long legs take easy steps, a bit thick and well muscled. That was one of the things you noticed as she swam. The water would flow around her as she went, curving around her hair, carving down her shoulders, flowing around her generous hips, and then slipping down her thighs and out behind her in a stream. Her outline in the water left a trace in my mind.

She came into the office and I handed her a towel. Starting up top she shook out her hair, patting it dry with the tower, and then worked her way down. I certainly didn't mind the show. It was a quiet night and not much was spoken between us. There had been a subtle anxiety in the air. She was leaving and we both knew it.

Her time at the pool had come to an end and that was for the best. Everyone had to move on eventually. I would leave soon enough too, but I couldn't fathom the thought of being there without her. It seemed so lonely. The pool was cold and she always brought the heat. We exchanged small talk and I asked her if she was excited. She was, but I could see the wistfulness in her eyes. She reached out with a fingernail and traced a line on my arm, scratching the dry skin and leaving a chalky white mark. She did that often, "temporary tattoos" we called them.

As her finger traced it's way across my bicep, I joked "Just don't draw a dick please, We work with children". She smiled coyly and drew a dick. I knew it. She giggled and I couldn't be mad about it. "Oh yeah you're a real riot" I smirked. "Let's see how you like this!" I parried as I snuck two fingers into her rib and started to tickle her. She dropped like a rock, writhing to get away from my probing fingers. I hit the floor too and we rolled, laughing like kids, lost in the moment.

Finally we came to a stop. A truce was established and tickling was declared a war crime. This was a good moment to end on, We could both look back fondly on our time together if it ended there. It didn't. As we laid on the ground, still partially wet, she made the first move. She rolled on top and pinned my arms at my sides, reaching down and planting a quick peck on my lips. Another stolen moment.

Suddenly it wasn't cold anymore. The warmth spread through our chests like the feeling of light through a windshield on a sunny day. She leaned in again, pressing her plump limps to mine, this time lingering. God her lips were soft. I melted into the floor, too stunned to react. "Wow" was the best I could muster. She giggled "Wow indeed" and her laugh brought me back into my body. I gripped her forearms with my hands, sat up and rolled over, flipping our positions and putting her flat on her back. This time I took the initiative, leaning in and snaking out my tongue past her lips. This time the kiss was breathless, so indulgent that neither of us wanted to break apart.

That's when I realized our position. I was restless, nestled between her ample thighs. Her hair framed her face and still clung with moisture. There was the smell of chlorine again, but now there was something else: the smell of shea butter. That was her smell wherever she went. I grabbed a flutter board and leaned in for one last peck, slipping it under her head as her chin rose to meet mine. Then I leaned back, and started to work my way down.

I kissed her shoulders and then traced my tongue down her pert breast. Her nipple strained against the fabric of her tope and she shuddered as my tongue passed over it. She felt ice and fire as I kept going, kissing down her taut belly and tracing the curve of her hip with my index finger. We both knew what was next as I came to the crux of her thighs. Even damp from the water, I could tell she was wet. I met her eyes with mine, seeking silent approval, and she extended a hand to pull the thin fabric to the side.

It was everything I could have imagined. Slightly puffy and engorged, her dark lips presented themselves like petals. I let out a warm breath, sending air flowing over her clit and bringing on another shudder. There was no more waiting, I knew what she needed. I dove in. Getting to work, I slipped one finger inside and began to explore as my lips closed on her clit. She couldn't hold it in any more. No one else was around and the building was supposed to be closed. She let out a loud moan, the most lovely sound I had ever heard.

We continued like that for minutes, her writhing and me drinking eagerly. Slow and steady as the pressure built she finally came to a release. With a final groan she spasmed, her head bumping back against the flutter board and her chest heaving. Her thighs gripped my head so tightly I felt like I was going to pass out from the constriction. It wouldn't be the worst way to go.

She released as she basked in the after glow. I was enraptured, transfixed by her rising and falling chest. Then I remembered the throbbing between my legs. The fabric of my shorts was strained, the string threatened to let loose. She glanced down and smirked. She loved seeing the effect she had on me. I desperately wanted to be inside her, to feel her squeeze me dry, but neither of us had protection. We were in an office, on the floor, after dark. She arose and pulled me up with her, bringing me to my feet and then walking me over to the bench in the corner.

She placed the flutter board at my feet and then sank to her knees, prostrating herself at my feet. We couldn't go all the way, but that wouldn't stop the night yet. She traced her nail along my inner thigh, resting it for a moment when it came to the thin fabric above my engorged cockhead. I was ready to blow in the moment, she was sexy and she knew it. I pulled the drawstrings of my shorts and she tugged them down, my shaft springing free.

She rose slightly and leaned over me, her hair splaying out and covering my thighs. Her lips parted and a string of drool leaked out and landed on my cock, dribbling down and mixing with my flowing precum. A jolt of electricity ran up my spine and I went rigid for a moment, then she brought her lips to my cockhead and slowly engulfed me in the warmth of her mouth. I melted. All the strength in my body dissipated and I became putty for her to mold. I had never been harder.

She bobbed her head up and down steadily, making brief eye contract sporadically. I gripped the edge of the bench with one hand, and after asking permission placed one hand on her head and guided her up and down with her hair. I wouldn't last long like this, as the heat in my balls made them churn and roil. All I wanted was to fill her throat with my hot seed. She tilted her chin up as she worked, locking her eyes with mine now and holding the eye contact. Her hazel eyes were deep and muddy. The intimacy of her gaze combined with the tenderness of her lips dragging along my cock was too much. My leg kicked, I groaned "goddamn", and my hips jolted.

I felt the cum pour out from my scrotum, shoot up my shaft, and erupt past her lips. She drank as eagerly from me as I had from her. I rested there for a moment, her tending to my cock, cleaning it delicately with her tongue as I softened in her month. She wiped her lip with a finger and pushed herself up and onto the bench beside me. We sat there in silence. What did this mean?

She leaned towards me, resting her head on my shoulder, and I did the same. She was leaving and we both knew it. "Just one night" I whispered and she replied "A night to remember". Eventually we stood up from the bench and each showered. We dressed and left the building, making small talk along the way. Outside, we paused for a moment and took in the brisk night air. We hugged, feeling each others warmth one last time, then turned and walked separate ways. I reflected on the past few years, thankful for the time we had spent together, but one thing was for sure. The cold hurt more now.