Touching Eileen

Another story with a slow build-up. My apologies in advance to readers who are hoping for action from the outset.

My ex-aunt's house was at the end of a winding dirt drive, overlooking a lake. I was early, but several people were already milling around on the front lawn when I drove up. They didn't seem to know who I was – a good thing, I decided. Anyone who recognized me might wonder what the hell I was doing there.

I was wondering myself. Connie, my ex-wife's aunt, had invited me for the weekend, assuring me that my ex wouldn't be there. I'd always gotten along better with Connie than I had with my wife, which should tell you something about our marriage. But I still felt pretty uncomfortable with the whole thing, and I had almost declined. In the end, though, the appeal of a quiet weekend by a lake won out. That, and the sad fact that I hadn't been invited to all that many good parties since my divorce.

The sun blazed in a clear blue sky, dissolving the mist that hung over the lake. I walked around the house until I could see the back yard sloping down towards the lake. Two people sat on folding chairs facing the water. One I didn't recognize was already working on a gin and tonic. A kindred spirit. Another was Connie, a plump, brisk woman in her late fifties. I greeted her, got a hug in return and was introduced to the other guest, whose name I immediately forgot. Connie asked me about my social life – easily summarized in a sentence or two – and then I was sent into the house to get more drinks for everyone. Sending people on errands was Connie's great passion. But she was amiable enough about it that no one, myself included, really minded.

I got the drinks, then helped to set up an umbrella, dragged a canoe onto the beach in case anyone wanted to use it, got more ice for the cooler. When I'd felt I'd been helpful enough for one morning, I wandered off towards the lake. I lived in a big city, hemmed in by traffic, noise and pollution. The tranquil upstate lake was an object of wonder to me. I watched a duck bobbing and paddling lazily around, listened to the insects. Quite a long while later my reverie was interrupted by a female voice.

"Hey down there. It's time for lunch."

I turned around and looked up towards the house, shading my eyes. The voice came from a young woman in a loose white skirt and long chestnut-colored hair. She wore a tight blue tank-top that left several inches of tanned skin bare at her midriff. The cut of her skirt and her position uphill gave me a great view of her tanned, athletic legs. I looked away discreetly.

"Did Connie send you?" I asked.

"How did you guess?" She laughed, evidently familiar with my ex-aunt's predilections. Then she examined me more closely. "Who are you exactly?"

Well, someone was going to ask sooner or later. I looked back at her, still trying not to stare at her coltish legs. She had deep brown eyes with very long lashes and freckles on either side of her nose. Very pretty in a fresh, girl-next-door way. I introduced myself and explained my tenuous relationship to our hostess. "And," I added, "I'm not sure I know who you are either."

"I'm Eileen, Connie's great-niece."

She looked about nineteen or twenty. I did some arithmetic. "George's daughter?" George was Connie's nephew; like me, a bit of a black sheep.

She nodded, and pushed back her long hair self-consciously.

"I've heard a lot about you," I said. "Are you home from college?"

"Yeah. I just got here a few days ago. I'm already starting to get restless."

I wasn't sure what to do with that. Was it some sort of come on? No, coming from Eileen it was guileless and perfectly innocent. I gave it some thought. "Frogs," I said finally. "When I came here last year I spent my afternoons trying to catch frogs in the creek on the other side of the lake. That should keep you entertained for a couple of days. After that you're on your own."

She looked disappointed. "I've already done the frogs."

I smiled, imagining her splashing around in the creek barefoot, her wet skirt clinging to her body.

"Oh. Well, I'm sure Connie will find something to keep you occupied. Who knows what sort of trouble you'd get yourself in otherwise?"

She giggled. "I think we're in trouble now. Everybody else is inside."

She turned and headed towards the house. Now I really couldn't avoid looking up her skirt. With the upward angle I could see where her tan ended and creamy white skin began. The sight transfixed me for so long that I had to run to catch up with her. When we reached the back porch, I jogged ahead and opened the screen door gallantly. My gesture was ruined by Nora's orange and white tabby cat, which darted between my legs and into the kitchen. Eileen followed the cat inside and was lost in the crowd a moment later.

* * *

Lunch lasted most of the afternoon, and I used the opportunity to introduce myself to some of my fellow guests. They were mostly middle-aged couples. Several rolled their eyes when I mentioned my ex, and no one seemed surprised to learn that we were divorced. People started to drift out towards the lake once the dishes had been dealt with and wine glasses refilled. I went upstairs to the bedroom I'd been assigned and changed into swim trunks and flip-flops.

Three or four couples had reached the lake ahead of me. Most were in swimsuits as well, pale bellies poking out and rolls of fat protruding over waistbands. I hoped that I stood out at least a little from that crowd, although my office job left me nearly as pale as the rest of them.

I heard footsteps behind me and looked around to find Eileen in sandals and a modest yellow bikini, her hair tied back in a ponytail. I didn't know where to look first. Her breasts were larger than I'd expected, with a deep, delicious cleavage. Her long legs swept up gracefully to slim hips. There was a gentle swell to her stomach and she sported a silver belly-button ring. She was checking me out as well, I realized, and I stood up a bit straighter.

A second before the mutual inspection became awkward, Eileen said, "I've decided that we're ex-second cousins once removed."

I thought about that. She was at least ten years younger than me, but it sounded about right. "Does that mean that we're allowed to get married?"

Her brow furrowed. "Only in Tennessee, I think."

I laughed, and the moment of tension was gone. We walked down through warm grass towards the lake talking about school and summer plans. Connie was directing traffic at the bottom of the hill. She looked up towards us and pointed. "You two, go get more chaises out of the shed. We need at least six."

Eileen and I obeyed without question. I unlatched the door to the shed, which was nearly as large as my apartment, and felt inside for a light switch. No luck. I opened the door all the way, which let enough sunlight in to more or less permit me to find my way around. I located the stack of chaises and turned to call Eileen. I hadn't realized that she was right behind me, and I bumped into her. There was a brief contact of bare skin as our bodies met, and I felt her breasts compress lightly against my chest. We both stepped back and made quick apologies. She stood outlined in the light streaming through the open doorway. For all the effect her bikini had on her profile, she might as well have been nude. I swallowed hard.

"The, ah, chaises," I stammered. "They're over here."

"Oh. Okay."

As she said that, I saw another small shadow glide into the shed. This one had pointed ears and a long tail; Nora's tabby. It brushed against the back of Eileen's legs before I could say anything. Eileen shrieked and jumped forward, landing in my arms.

Suddenly the dark shed seemed hot and breathless. Eileen's whole body melted into mine and my arms went around her to keep her from falling.

"It was just the cat," I said. But I didn't let go of her right away. Her skin burned against mine; there were soft places and firm places, parts that pressed insistently against me and parts that gave beneath my fingertips. "Are you all right?"

It was a long moment before she gently untangled herself and took a deep breath. We stood a few inches apart, but the scent of her warm skin filled the space between us. "Yes, I'm fine," she said. But there was a catch in her voice. "Why don't you hand me the chairs and I'll take them out?"

"The chairs. Right. We'd better get on that before your aunt sends someone in to check up on us."

The rest of the operation went without incident. Connie held court, and I enjoyed seeing her together with Eileen – the tall, nubile girl brimming with youthful energy standing next to the plump, comfortable matron.

Other guests said things to me, and I answered politely enough, but my eyes kept straying towards Eileen. After a few minutes she walked down to edge of the lake and spread out a towel. She spread some lotion on herself, and I felt a desperate urge to walk over and offer my services for the hard-to-reach spots. But I would have had to disengage myself from a conversation with three very earnest ladies who wanted to let me know their opinions on school vouchers. I nodded seriously and made sympathetic noises while Eileen stretched herself out on her stomach, untied the string that held her bikini top together, and closed her eyes.

* * *

The afternoon dragged on until the sun finally disappeared behind the hills across the lake. People wandered into the house to change then streamed out again towards their cars, heading into town for dinner. Since I had arrived early my car was parked three layers deep. Other cars filled up with people and headed down the driveway, but mine remained resolutely inaccessible. I looked up forlornly and saw Eileen squeezed into the back seat of a small sedan. She waved at me.

"Come with us," she shouted. I walked over. "There isn't any room."

"Get in anyway. I can sit on your lap."

She said it so casually that I shrugged and opened the door. I squeezed in and Eileen plopped down on my lap. She smelled of some sort of herbal shampoo, and there was a freshness to her skin that made me want to caress it, to kiss it everywhere it was showing. Which was in quite a few places. She wore a wrap-around skirt. The slit opened on top and separated as we drove, exposing a long swath of her smooth thigh. And her tight blue top was cut daringly low, showing off an irresistible expanse of tanned skin. From where I sat I could look down the generous swelling of her cleavage. I tried not to stare, and failed.

She wiggled around on my lap, trying to get comfortable as the car bounced down the driveway. By now my cock had started to act up. I wasn't sure if Eileen realized it or not. She was in an animated conversation with someone in the front seat. But she moved around as she talked, making it steadily worse. I tried to shift under her, to maneuver my errant cock into a more innocuous position, but nothing worked.

The car hit a big bump at the end of the driveway. I wrapped my arms around Eileen instinctively to prevent her from flying off my lap. She looked back at me and smiled. Our faces were only inches apart. I realized looking into those dark, flashing eyes that I was totally lost.

"My mother used to do that," she said.

I grimaced. I would have rather preferred that she didn't put me in the same category as her parents.

She seemed to realize what I was thinking "I just meant that it was a nice memory."

We arrived at the restaurant sooner than I would have liked.

* * * It was a fish place with a big deck that jutted out over the lake. I made sure that I was seated next to Eileen. Everybody had quite a bit to drink – there were pitchers of margaritas being constantly replenished. Half an hour into dessert, the couple seated next to me leaned over and said: "We're tired of sitting around. Let's go for a walk by the lake."

I shrugged. "Sure." I turned toward Eileen. "Want to come with us?"

"Okay. If I know this crowd they'll be drinking for another hour or two."

The evening was balmy. Fireflies circled under the willow trees near the lakeshore. As we walked, the sounds of the restaurant faded to a soft murmur. The couple that we'd left with walked along next to each other in companionable silence. They were fiftyish and had obviously been married for a long time. The man was missing most of his hair and moved with a bit of a waddle. His wife was short and double-chinned, but she walked with an enviable vivacious energy. The man offered the woman his hand and led her down to a small beach. Impulsively, I put my hand out to Eileen. She smiled at my courtliness and took it, her story about her roommate sneaking her dog into their dorm continuing without a pause.

After a minute, the woman – I finally remembered her name: Marilyn – turned to us with a giggle.

"We're going skinny dipping," she said.

I stood there looking blank until Eileen pulled my hand firmly.

"Come on, let's give them some privacy."

"Oh, right," I said, finally catching on.

We headed back up the bank until we were out of sight. More giggling came from below us, then the sound of splashing. They swam out from behind the trees, moving slowly. Eileen watched indulgently as they paddled around.

We looked at each other for a moment.

"Want to go too?" we said together, then had to choke back our laughter.

"Turn around," Eileen said.

I did, and I heard her walk down towards the lake followed by a rustle of clothes. I chanced a quick peek over my shoulder just in time to see her silver body arcing out over the water and vanishing below the surface a moment later. She popped up surprisingly far out and shook her hair back. She was treading water, and her body was modestly submerged beneath the surface.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

She began swimming with long, graceful strokes, the faint light from the restaurant edging the parts of her that rose above the surface, a shoulder, an arm, the sweet curve of her butt. I shed my clothes with considerable haste and waded in. I swam towards her, working hard to catch up. She ignored me until I was a few feet away then angled out further to keep some distance between us. I couldn't help feeling disappointed, but I took the hint. By then we'd nearly caught up with Marilyn and – what was his name, Joe?

"We could moon everyone on the deck," Marilyn said, eyes sparkling.

Joe splashed her. Then: "Marilyn!"

She'd performed a very creditable surface dive, her rather broad posterior pointed squarely at the restaurant. There was no break in the babble from the people up there, and I guessed that we were too far away and too poorly lit for anyone to have noticed. But I still applauded admiringly when Marilyn resurfaced.

Eileen giggled and followed suit. She was close enough to me that I could see her tight little butt clearly in the moment before it disappeared below the surface. All right, I thought. My turn. I made a big splash as I went under, doing my best to advertise our antics. Coming back up I brushed inadvertently against someone. The touch was warm and smooth as our bodies slid against each other momentarily. Eileen. I apologized and moved away. And then I noticed that Marilyn and Joe had stopped splashing each other and were staring at us. Eileen and I exchanged mischievous grins.

"Let's give them a show," I whispered.

I flipped over onto my back and began a lazy backstroke. Marilyn's head swiveled around to follow my progress. Eileen came after me. Her stroke was far more elegant than mine, and she pulled alongside me quickly. Water streamed off of her breasts and her small erect nipples. I tried to see further down, to the dark place between her thighs, but I just got a nose full of water for my trouble. I stopped and treaded water until I got my breath back.

I looked for Eileen again. Evidently she'd decided to head for the shore while I was recovering and had made short work of it. She was out of the water and gathering up her clothes before I'd gotten started again. By the time I pulled myself back onto the beach she was nowhere to be seen. I sort of dabbed at myself with my t-shirt, but there was no real way to get dry. As I pulled up my boxers, Eileen's head popped out from behind a tree.

"Ooo … cute butt."

I tried to chase her but I was hampered by the fact that my shorts were only halfway up. There were delighted giggles as I tripped and fell over on the grass. Above us, the party was breaking up and people were starting to wander back towards the cars. I broke off the pursuit and finished getting dressed.

On the ride back, Eileen sat on my lap again without an invitation. At one point she turned around and tousled my wet hair, making it into little spikes. The moisture on her skin heightened her fresh scent, and strands of her wet hair dripped onto my shirt. I tried to look put-upon as she messed up my hair, but I don't think I fooled anyone.

* * *

It was late when we got back, but Connie put some music on and several couples started dancing. I looked for Eileen, wondering if I could press my luck. My head was buzzing, remembering her in the water, in the car, lying by the lake in the afternoon sun. But she had vanished, sent off by Connie to help get the guest rooms ready. Absent a dance partner I went upstairs and stood on the mezzanine that overlooked the big living room.

I leaned on the railing and watched the other guests. A dozen or so people were circulating below me. Three couples danced in a casual sort of way, stopping to say something to other guests every so often. They were all so comfortable with each other. Old friends, long-time summer visitors.

I don't belong here

, I thought. I could pick up a sentence or two of their quiet conversations over the music and the sounds of glasses being put down on end tables. I didn't hear Eileen until she came up beside me.

"By yourself again?"

I stood quietly, listening to her other sounds for a moment – cotton sliding across soft skin, bare feet shifting on thick carpet.

"I decided that I was all out of small talk for the evening."

She giggled. "Does that mean that we're going to have to discuss thermodynamics or medieval history or something?"

I looked up at her and smiled. She had evidently just taken a shower and had pulled on a long t-shirt over wet hair. Parts of the shirt were damp and clung to the curve of her back and her shoulder blades. Beads of moisture stood out on her neck, catching light from the living room. She pointed to the people below.

"Is that what being an adult is like?"

I shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

She swung her hip playfully at mine, and, without thinking, I swatted her butt in retaliation. It felt firm and warm, even in the brief contact, and it didn't seem as if there was anything beneath the shirt.

As if in answer to my thoughts, she leaned forward over the railing, stretching the shirt across her ass. She was wearing a thong; I could see the outline of the top band and the triangle of fabric disappearing between her cheeks. The shirt rode up the backs of her thighs, but it was one of those extra-large shirts companies give away at parties to be sure of fitting everyone, so it still covered her modestly enough.

"It's almost like spying up here," she said. "It feels naughty."

"Well, strictly speaking, it

is

spying."

When she leaned over to whisper to me, spy to spy, her hip brushed mine. The warmth lingered for a moment. My cock stirred in my shorts.

"Can you hear what they're saying?" she asked.

I followed where she was pointing. Her breasts blocked part of my view of the living room. Her nipples pushed gently out against the shirt. They looked more erect than I would have expected for a girl who had just stepped out of a hot shower.