Pool Party

by K T Morrison

  “That’s terrible,” he said.

  “I know, isn’t it? Such a hot day, such a beautiful pool. You shouldn’t let it go to waste,” she said, and winked. Then she turned, and he watched what a taut twenty-year-old body looked like when it hopped three steps then dove headfirst, arms outstretched, into his pool. Her skin was flawless, her flesh tight as a drum, the cheeks of her ass giving only a slight jiggle.

  When she surfaced, he shouted, “Yeah. Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll go get my trunks.”

  She didn’t answer, continued a breaststroke to the far side of the pool, but as her head turned he saw that she was smiling. He stood a moment longer wondering if the neighbors could see him. The houses were far apart—in the last ten years the shrubs had filled out. Still, what would any of them think taking a look out their windows and getting a glimpse of respected Mr. Maxwell swimming in a pool with two attractive young girls while his wife was away on business?

  He mounted the steps to the second floor, a trip he’d taken countless thousand times since he lived here, never once before considering the trip this long, this onerous. He felt enervated, every bit of him conflicted. His body at once wanting to take part in whatever may occur today, but also, simultaneously, afraid of consequences.

  His brain was the same. His brain knew how wrong this would be—should anything even transpire. These were two sassy girls; bad girls, with bad reputations. While they may seem like the two that would have sex with an old dad it was far more likely they were having a great time teasing his old ass.

  The other part of his brain figured he deserved this. You only get one life. An opportunity like this is never presented. 99.9% of men, even successful ones, would never be offered such a gift. To ignore it, to reject it, would be insanity. Plus, he had his concerns over the conduct of his wife. She was cheating. He Goddamn knew she was cheating. Maybe he could get her back—or doing this would bring himself back. Maybe he was what was missing from the relationship.

  Now in the bedroom, he went to the large walk-in closet that he shared with Lynn, moved to his side. He was determined to put trunks on. Knew that he would, as difficult a task as it may seem right now.

  He stood in the closet for a long time, right in front of the drawer that held his swimwear, building the nerve to perform the task that he knew he eventually would. A muffled sound in the bedroom drew him to the doorway. Could hear the sound of feet on the Persian rug that lined the walkway from the hall. Saw now the surly one, Madison, dressed only in a bikini, standing in his bedroom with bare feet, dripping water, though she had a white terry towel over her shoulders.

  He watched her as she surmised the photos that lined one wall as you came into the bedroom. Pictures of him and Lynn at their wedding, Owen, fifteen years ago with braces, photos of young Tabitha, various family vacations, and academic milestones ...

  The girl’s sunglasses were off now, and he saw that she had bright blue and expressive eyes. But the closer she came to him in his bedroom the more anxiety built inside. His guts twisted with dread. He wasn’t the kind of guy who could do this sort of thing.

  “Hey,” he said, issuing it as a friendly hail but also using it as a command that a guard may issue to someone entering into a section they’re not supposed to.

  “Oh, hey,” she said flatly.

  “Looking for the bathroom?”

  “No,” she said. “Looking for you.”

  “What for?” he said as images of him on his bed with her mouth on his penis flashed in his mind.

  “Skyler said to make sure you’re coming down.”

  “I’m coming down,” he said. “I’m just looking for trunks.”

  She shrugged her shoulders, still looking around his bedroom, said, “Big house, probably take a lot of time to find your trunks.”

  “Yeah,” he chuckled. “I’m okay, I can find my shorts. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  “That’s good,” she said, and she padded to his bed and sat her wet butt down on it, her feet not quite touching the floor, running them around in lazy circles. She sat at the foot of the bed, facing him.

  “I’ll be right down.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Get your shorts on.”

  “Okay,” he said, frowning a little. A big piece of him wanted to tell her to get out. That he would get dressed on his own. Another part of him felt like that would betray some of his weakness to her. Surely a man like him would want to change in front of a beautiful girl. He didn’t want her to see him undress. Didn’t want her to see his bare body, or what he had between his legs. But telling her to look away or to leave would be admitting that he feared that she may see him.

  When girls like this sense the fear in you they capitalized on it. It was something true that he’d experienced many times. So he pretended. He pretended that he didn’t care that she watched. Occasionally would glance in his periphery and see her bare young body sitting on his bed, see the dark shapes of her bikini bottom and the fleshy globes that pushed out the skimpy bra she wore. Urged away any hardness that may be coming to him, afraid what that might mean.

  In a situation like this, while his desires might picture the two of them tumbling in his bed and her willingly taking him, it was far more likely that she would do nothing, then make crazy allegations, sue him, get his name in the paper, and shame him for being a dirty and lecherous man who wanted to swim with two girls that he should never be swimming with.

  So he reacted as cool as he could, opening his drawer, finding a pair of trunks, taking his shirt off then his pants and turning to give her a three-quarter side view. He could have closed the door, but he still didn’t want to do that. That would show that he was ashamed. Instead, he hid, let her see his bare ass for a brief five to seven seconds before he thrust his feet through the legs of his shorts and pulled them up as quickly as he could.

  “There,” he said firmly, and in a masculine tone, wrenching the knot on his trunks and flicking off the lights for the closet. He stepped out into his bedroom and the girl watched him without any expression. He said, “What we do now?”

  Madison climbed the ladder, mounting the top of the towering blue slide that descended a fun curl into the deep end. She did a little gymnastics move holding herself up by two hands and scissoring her legs out before putting herself down, plummeting then with a loud staccato squeak as her butt cheeks slid over the dry fiberglass. She made a funny but happy face and held her hands above her head. Before she made it to the bottom, Skyler, bobbing in the deep end, hurled an inflated ball at her. Madison didn’t see it coming, the multi-colored beach ball smacking her somewhere on the forehead over her left eye and rebounding straight up in the air. She splashed into the water laughing. Now Skyler was laughing too, arching her body and disappearing under the water to get away before Madison came up looking for vengeance.

  “You bitch,” Madison called as she emerged from the water, running her blond hair off her face, looking around, trying to find her now sworn enemy. She swam after the blurry shape that warbled under the water toward the shallow end.

  Darren laughed, standing in his shorts at the side of the pool and watching them. They were a lot of fun, and he missed that youthful energy. Missed it from when he was that age, missed it, too, from when this pool entertained his children and his children’s friends. Those were good days, and it was too bad they were gone.

  Now Skyler was pulling herself from the pool, her hands slipping up the chrome tubular rails, her body throwing off cascades of water, and then she ran on the deck, coming his way. Madison was on the chase, coming up now as well, aiming for the ladder.

  Skyler ran to him, throwing water all down his back and making him jump. She put her hands on his shoulder and cowered behind him as if she could hide.

  “Don’t let her get me,” she whisper-laughed loudly in his ear. Her eyes were sparkling, her mouth smiling and opened.

  He said, “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Stop her,” she laughed, “stop her.�
�

  But now Madison was making her way toward them, running down the deck throwing off water, her breasts bouncing. He put up an arm to defend himself and Skyler, but there was nothing he could do. She jumped as she drew near, high above their heads, body tucking into a tight ball, and she came down only about two feet in front of them in an enormous cannonball that heaved water right up and into their faces.

  Skyler laughed and cowered behind him, leaving him to take most of the spray. Darren put his hands up to cover himself, squinted his eyes shut, but he was splashed with enough water for it to travel up his nose.

  When he’d wiped the water from his face, stood up and moved from the edge of the pool where Madison was now trying to splash both of them by paddling her hands viciously through the surface of the water like a riverboat, he found Skyler, standing by the patio table texting again.

  Madison said, “This isn’t over,” and then she ran her hand in a wide crescent across the water, skipping water up onto the deck again.

  Skyler put her phone down face first on the patio table, said, “One more hour,” then she ran three steps past Darren, that tight body working, showing off its slender muscular grace, then leaping into the air and disappearing under the water.

  Skyler brought the fight to Madison. Diving, arching her body so that she came up and tickled and grabbed at Madison. Madison laughed and splashed trying to get away, taking in water and then spitting it out. Then the grappling started, the two of them grabbing each other and rolling around in the water almost like they were hugging. A game began between both of them: trying to take each other’s top off.

  Darren watched in disbelief. Two pretty girls, giggling, trying to disrobe each other in his pool, and his wife wasn’t home. He sat with his feet on the top step of the ladder, sandwiched in between the chrome tubes, his hands rubbing on his knees, his back straight, the thing in his trunks also getting straight. It was too good to be true.

  Skyler gasped, her pretty face in mirthful shock, mouth open, lips curled over those white teeth, both her hands clutched at her bare breasts. Madison swam away on her back, holding one arm triumphantly out of the water, a turquoise bikini top clutched in her fist, loose ties dangling.

  Skyler gave chase, swimming after her, Darren watching the muscles of her back work, glistening in the water as she thrust, splashing, trying to catch up with her friend. Madison was panicking now, kicking her feet faster, letting the top go and getting onto her front so she could stroke with her arms. Too late though, Skyler on her, clutching her ankles, water spouting from their mouths, breathless laughter, and little shrieks as they struggled.

  It wasn’t long before Skyler was swimming away with Madison’s top. Madison bobbed in the middle of the pool, blinking her eyes intensely, smoothing the hair out of her face. She laughed, said, “I don’t even care.”

  Skyler treaded water for a moment, her arm reaching back then launching Madison’s top into the bushes. “I don’t either,” she said, then went to her back, arms wide, long legs flutter-kicking, pert breasts cresting out of the water. She ran her tongue out at Madison. Madison returned with the same.

  Skyler made her way to the edge of the pool at Darren’s feet. She treaded in front of him and he averted his eyes so that she wouldn’t see him drilling holes into her bare breasts.

  “Aren’t you coming in?” she said with a smile.

  “I don’t want somebody to take my top off.”

  She laughed and looked to Madison to see if she heard the joke. Madison was under the water somewhere. Skyler said, “It’s your bottoms you have to worry about.”

  “Well, then I’m definitely not coming in.”

  In response, she cupped her hands together and heaved a bucket full of water up on his lap. She said, “Get in here now.”

  He’d love to. He’d love to slip into the water and swim with them, be playful with them. Protocol was difficult. And, of course, getting into the water without the arousal in the front of his trunks being detected could be tricky, too. But Skyler looked like the kind of girl that would not take no for an answer; would not go away and leave him alone.

  “Fine,” he sighed. He kept himself bent at the waist so nothing would poke out against the fabric and fell forward into the water.

  By the time he came up she had her arms around his neck, choking him. He surfaced and spat up water. She was giggling in his ear, saying, “Take me for a ride.”

  “Where do you want to go?” he said. He leaned forward, and she lay on his back, loosening her grip around his neck but holding onto him still. The nubs on her breasts scraped on his back and he ached from it. It was the most astoundingly arousing thing he could imagine. Even if this were all that happened it was incredible. A beautiful girl, having fun, enjoying your wealth, bare-breasted and carefree—it was the stuff of dreams.

  He swam with her on his back and she would point directions for him to go, obviously trying to get Madison. Madison was onto them, coming up out of the water and whipping around looking to see where they were then dipping back under again.

  “Take me over there,” Skyler said, and he followed her long tanned finger as it pointed to another inflatable ball. He swam to it with her firm and tight body pressed against him, his firm and hard thing pressing out his pants under the water, and she grabbed the ball and tucked it against herself. “Okay, okay,” she said, then she got off and hid behind him.

  When Madison emerged from the water, she heaved the ball and it was a direct hit again. Bouncing off Madison’s blonde head at the crown, making a comical springy boing, then shooting straight up and bouncing across the deck. Skyler, next to him, cackled, victorious and excited. He said, “Nice shot.”

  She said, “Fucking right that was a good shot. Girl’s softball.”

  He turned and treaded face-to-face with her. “You play softball?”

  “Not anymore. But I used to. Back when I was in high school.”

  “You’ve got a good arm.”

  She gave him an expression of pride, her smiling face with her beautiful hair slicked back, barely any makeup on. The perfection of youth and beauty. She kicked her legs a little harder, her body rising out of the water enough that she could hoist up an arm and flex her bicep like she was a bodybuilder. Only her breasts rose up out of the water too, and his eyes darted from her thin but shapely arm and settled on those rosy-brown nipples that had clenched to hard pearls. She knew he was looking, and she didn’t care. That’s when he realized Madison was up to something.

  Too late, he felt his trunks being whisked down. He was fast though, and the waistband got hung up on his erection that stuck up straight. It saved him from losing his shorts to this girl. He grabbed the waistband in two fists and hunched himself, drawing his knees up rapidly and screwing the shorts back up his hips.

  The two of them swam off again, and they high-fived each other. Skyler said, “We’ll get you next time.”

  He watched them swim away, his heart pounding in his chest. He would’ve been mortified if he’d been disrobed. Had the feeling those two mean girls would’ve played keep-away with the shorts all afternoon. And they seemed the kind that wouldn’t give up until he came out of the pool naked. But it was fun. And they were funny. He felt like he hadn’t felt in years.

  Right now, in his double-door stainless-steel Viking fridge, he knew he had six elk steaks. They were tenderloin filets, custom ordered for him by his butcher from a farm in Montana at over thirty dollars a pound. He called after the girls: “Hey, do you guys want to have something to eat?”

  Chapter Three

  It took him a few minutes to wait for a free moment when the two girls had their backs turned. He had to get out of the pool and into the kitchen without one of them noticing the front of his trunks. It came when Skyler and Madison swam to the far side of the pool in search of a floating lounger. There was only one, and they were racing to be the first to possess it.

  He hoisted himself from the pool and got inside. Took the el
k steaks out of the fridge and put them on a plate so they could come to room temperature. He watched from the kitchen window, hands curled around the edge of the double tub porcelain sink. It was crazy. These two here with him.

  He’d spent the whole morning going through his wife’s things. Twisted with misery, his heart in a knot thinking of the woman he loved with another man. Went through her bank statements, credit card bills; went through some of her correspondence, but found nothing. Hadn’t allayed his suspicions. He was positive. He still couldn’t find the proof. The lingerie wasn’t proof.

  Now, look at him. It was like a gift. Something being given to him to make him feel better. The universe at work. His wife was cheating on him. He couldn’t prove it but he knew it was true and somehow life had given him this wonderful boon. Two topless young ladies right now in his backyard clad only in skimpy bikini bottoms.

  They darted on the concrete deck, holding the lounger between them, each struggling for control. Playing with each other, having fun with it. Madison had an incredible set on her. She was young, but she had a woman’s set of breasts. Creamy, large, pendulous. Skyler’s were great, too. Hers were perky and upright. Skyler’s nipples were small, hard, and dark brown. Madison’s pale pink like the petals of a rose. God, when was this boner gonna go down? He squeezed it through his trunks. What was going to happen here? Where would they all end up tonight? It was too much. He wasn’t that kind of guy, was he? Could he be that kind of guy? God, he wanted to be that guy he thought as he squeezed himself harder.

  The lounger was tossed into the water and splashed on the surface, landing upright, its armrests filled with Styrofoam to keep it afloat. They both dived into the water, and he watched now as they struggled to climb on top of it together. There was room for only one and he could watch them fight like this all day.

  When the steaks were a decent temperature, he rubbed spices and salt into them and threw them in a hot pan to sear. Did it while he kept an eye out that window. The two girls were out there now, both of them squished against each other sitting on the lounger together. The sun beat down on their bare bodies. He couldn’t wait to get back out there again. Put the steaks on a plate, went outside and fired up the Cross-Flame Pro.