Pooling - Part 1

 This week's post is an exerpt from my forthcoming novel. Melanie is in her 30s, unmarried, without children, and she avoids risk in all its forms.  When those close to her challenge her to take a chance on love, she finds herself in a relationship that pushes her out of her comfort zone—sexually and otherwise—and in Las Vegas, that can be a perilous experience. 

 

Melanie slept in.   She slipped quietly out of bed at nine-thirty and worked her way through the house, cleaning up as she went.  She started a load of laundry, stacked the books and magazines, unloaded the dishwasher and took out the garbage.  By eleven a.m. she was in the pool swimming laps.  After doing thirty, she got out to grab some water.  That was when she saw James on the other side of the living room slider.  He stood there in his boxers, watching her, smiling, his bed head making him look like a child.  She motioned for him to come out.

“Hey, handsome.”

“Hey yourself, sexy.  What are you up to this fine day?”

“Just doing some laps.  I was gonna catch some rays for a bit.”

“Need some company?  My tan could use a boost.”

“Sure.”

James pulled off his boxers and threw them on the back of a lounge chair.

“Um, ok.”  Melanie laughed.  “The pool boy doesn’t come until two, so I guess you’re safe.”

James took a few running steps and cannon-balled into the deep end of the pool.  Melanie shook her head.  When he surfaced, she asked, “I’m going to grab some water.  Want anything?”

“Beer if you have it.”

“I have it.  Want me to grab the noodles for the pool?”

“Noodles?”

“You know, the foam things.”

“Afraid I don’t know the foam things.”

“I’ll grab ’em.”

Melanie came back with a bucket of beer on ice and two long, bendable foam sticks. 

“Oh, noodles,” said James.  “I get it.”

She handed him a beer and tossed the noodles in the pool.             

James tucked one of the noodles around his back and under his armpits and leaned back, sipping his beer.  “Nice.  Noodles and beer.”

“I call it pooling.”

“Pooling?” he asked.

“Yeah.  Pool, drinks, lounging.  It makes something lazy sound active.”

“I can think of other ways to make it active.”

Melanie winked at him.  “I bet you can.”

There was an inflatable lounger against the wall and she tossed that in the pool.  She grabbed a beer and asked James to hold it while she situated herself on the raft.

Once she was all settled, James handed her the beer.  She sighed and closed her eyes.  The rays felt good and the water was doing a fine job of keeping her cool.  She could hear James paddling lazily around the pool.  After about ten minutes of silence, he said, “You’re gonna get tan lines in that bikini.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him, smiling.  “As you’re aware, I already have tan lines from this bikini.”

“Haven’t you heard?  Tan lines are out.”

“Are they?  It’s so hard to keep up with these trends.”  She feigned exasperation and waved her hand dismissively.  “I gave up trying.”

“Well then I will take it as my job to prevent you from committing a fashion faux pas with your tan lines.  You can thank me later.”  He put his beer on the deck and paddled over to her at the deep end of the pool.

He swam up behind her raft and tugged at the string at her neck.  She glanced toward the fence on the left side of the yard.  Seeing no one, she sat up and giggled as he untied the string at her back and threw her bikini top on the deck.  She lay back down and he paddled around to the side of the raft.  

“Bottoms too,” he said.

“If you insist.”

She watched him pull her bikini bottoms off slowly.  He was staring at the spot where her legs met.  By the time the bottoms were over her feet he’d forgotten about them and let them slip from his hand and hang in the water.  She self-consciously closed her legs, and her eyes. 

James tucked the noodle around the front of his chest and leaned forward, letting the foam hold his weight up.  He wrapped both hands around one of Melanie’s feet and kneaded the sole with his thumbs.  She hummed with approval.

“Heaven,” she said.

After a few minutes James worked on the other foot, then started rubbing her calves, then her thighs.  By the time he reached her upper thighs her legs parted themselves.  She loved the way his touch felt.  And the combination of being caressed by the sun, the water, and James all at the same time was having a narcotic effect.

He touched her gently, running a finger up and down her slit until she moaned and spread her legs wider.  He spread her wetness around, and she could hear his breathing getting deeper, but when she pushed her hips against his hand, he wouldn’t put his fingers inside her.  Instead, he stopped touching her long enough to pull the raft toward the shallow end of the pool.  Once there, he was able to position his head between her legs and go to work.

 

The sensation was surreal, and Melanie couldn’t help thinking how lucky she was.  This was what she deserved: a lazy Saturday in the pool, soaking up rays, drinking a beer, being pleased by a man who adored her.  She imagined there were other things she’d been missing out on too—more important and profound things—but for now, this was all she wanted.

To be continued...
(read part 2 here)

If you have a kinky story to share, please email me at SexyVegasTA@aol.com.

 

Stay Sexy!

T.A.