Her name is Kate, and she's a swimmer.
Well, of course she's a swimmer. That's why we're all here, right? A small happy band of nuts who swim almost every morning at dawn, rain or shine, at this saltwater pool at the south end of the beach. If you show up and swim, you're a member of our group.
Some people would call her full-figured, or curvy. To me, Kate is simply gorgeous. As tall as I am. Muscles under those curves. Confident stride, looks everyone straight in the eye, often a smile, always a friendly word. But no dawdling at the end of the pool at the start, no fooling around. She arrives, strips off her sweats or whatever she's wearing over her swimsuit, gets into the water, and swims. I'm pretty good myself, but Kate is just as good or maybe even a little better. I bet she does around 2,000 meters every morning.
We'd been idly talking for a couple of minutes after swimming for some time now. Not pushing anything, just enjoying the moment. Weather, was the water rough or smooth, how many meters did you swim today, that kind of stuff. I liked it.
Then, one morning, I saw her ivory-colored rose-embroidered brassiere.
OK, I know what you're probably thinking. I'm a total pervert, right? But it wasn't like that. There were changing rooms inside, but most of us, men and women, just showered and dressed right there on the deck above the pool. No staring, no making anyone uncomfortable, no showing off. Use your towel for a bit of cover if you need it.
I don't know about you, but to me there is nothing more sensual than the feel of water on bare skin, one continuous caress. Especially in summer when it's already hot at dawn, the water is cool, smooth, relaxing and arousing at the same time. Saltwater is especially lovely. No chlorine taste. Just what Nature intended for us.
And the feeling lingers after you get out of the water. The air is warm, you shower off the salt, and you want something smooth, maybe silky, clean and fresh to put on over skin the water has made so much more sensitive. OK, I'm a guy, so I'm more in the clean cotton camp myself, but I know there's more to life than just cotton.
Usually, I sort of turned away as we dressed to give Kate a little more privacy, turning back only when I thought it was safe. Only this morning, for whatever reason, she had taken an extra moment to button up her blouse.
She filled the bra so very nicely. A perfect fit.
"Like what you see?"
I thought I would die. Looked around for a convenient hole to fall into.
"Um ... Kate, I'm so sorry."
"I didn't mean to stare, really."
Another laugh. Looking me straight in the eye, smiling.
"Just don't make a habit of it."
But I noticed she wasn't rushing to finish those last buttons, either.
"It feels so soft on my skin. Satiny almost. It's my own special treat."
Faint heart never won fair lady, I thought to myself.
"Kate, I can't tell you how good it looks on you."
"You just did."
From there, things moved forward a little, still not too fast, but now we were playing and flirting with each other a little more than before. Without being outrageous about it, Kate found ways to show off a little. She liked lace, she liked demi-bras, and I found myself more than once entranced by her cleavage. They say guys have trouble looking women in the eye. I always thought I was the exception to that rule, but maybe I wasn't. Nude (very descriptive) and ivory were Kate's favorite colors.
The first time I saw what Kate's lingerie concealed was on a rainy morning along toward the middle of summer. Hot, humid nights. Getting to the pool at or before dawn was a treat, and you couldn't wait to get into the water. Once in, you wanted to stay in.
Cold never kept members of our little gang away, but rain seemed to scare almost everyone off, except for Kate and me. I never understood why. After all, you're going to be wet anyway, right?
At any rate, when it rained it was almost always only the two of us. That morning was exceptionally hot and muggy, and it was raining steadily. It was still pretty dark, just a faint brightening at the eastern horizon.
"You up for a dare?"
I looked at Kate. She was smiling. No, she was grinning.
Uh oh. Now what?
"How about we swim without suits this morning?"
Oh yes, Kate, I thought to myself.
I smiled back.
"Race you into the water, Kate."
She beat me because she was already stripping even before she made the dare. That was a good thing, because my appreciation for her spectacular curves, now revealed, was all too apparent.
Her eyes were cornflower blue, and she had the sort of skin an old rake dreams of.
I read that in a story once, and it described Kate perfectly. There wasn't a mark on her. Skin so smooth-looking I had to stop myself from touching her. I was fully erect, and my cock wanted to touch her, rub all over her, spurt all over her, too.
Don't blow this, I told myself. Just relax and enjoy. Don't scare her off.
Feeling the water all over our bodies was heaven. It was a little distracting, too, as you might imagine. This wasn't going to be a full workout, I was pretty sure. Even with the rain, once it got a little lighter someone might show up. I looked straight ahead most of the time, but I had to turn to breathe and I almost lost it every time I did. Kate beside me, strong kick, muscles in her thighs working, her full breasts swinging gently as she stroked. Shadow at the top of her thighs. God.
We called it quits after a little bit. I tried not to stare, I really did, as we climbed out and showered off. And after we dressed, it almost drove me crazy knowing that underneath her sweats Kate was wearing something lacy and delicate.
"Liked that, didn't you?"
My smile told her everything. She laughed.
"Maybe again the next time it rains?"
"You bet, Kate."
We were stopping for coffee after our swim on most days, now, and my heart was pounding every time. It wasn't just seeing her nude on that rainy morning, although that was astounding in itself. It was Kate's laugh, and her voice. She had a wicked take on life, not cynical, just sharp, and the way she skewered her boss and some of her fussier co-workers kept me in stitches.
We opened up to each other little by little. I told her about my editing for a small IT firm, how I liked showing my colleagues that even the most complicated subject could be straightened out and put into clear, concise, readable English without losing any of the details. Kate was a marketer for a small line of women's clothing. Good stuff, fair prices, excellent value. The line practically sold itself, often in spite of the efforts of some of her co-workers.
We talked about today, we even started to talk a little, hesitantly, carefully, about what might happen later. We were cautious, I think, because we each had muddled histories. Her family was from the far western part of the state, her parents dedicated to running their small ranch. It was a losing proposition, but they couldn't give it up. Kate boarded in the city starting in high school, and never looked back. I had lived in the city all my life, growing up with parents who were probably too attuned for their own good to what the neighbors thought and did.
Kate and I were pushing for something different for ourselves. It scared us, and I think that's what held us back, maybe more than it needed to.
In fact, to tell you the truth, I was afraid for awhile that we were only going to be buddies lending each other a shoulder to cry on. The dreaded just friends thing. Please, God, not that.
Then it rained again, three days straight. Three days of heaven. Pool to ourselves. Swimming nude every time. Kate's glorious skin. Firm muscles under her curves everywhere. I wasn't a bodybuilder type by a long shot, but I was fairly trim. That's one good thing about swimming. You end up with long, smooth muscles. Women who swim look especially good, and Kate was no exception.
There were little touches here and there at the end of the pool while we rested between sprints, but nothing out of line. I can't tell you how hard it was to resist the temptation to take her in my arms. Or move behind her and just plain take her, but I didn't.
I'm not a total idiot, however. On the third day, holding on to the side of the pool, feeling the rain on our faces, still no one around, just chatting while we decided whether to keep going or pack it in and get coffee, I leaned over and kissed her. Kate startled for a second, then she kissed me back.
I didn't press against her because I was hard as a rock and I didn't want to move too fast. But I kept on kissing her, one hand on the side of her neck, just stroking gently. Couldn't see, but I think she was smiling. I pulled back and looked. I was right. She was smiling.
Then she pushed hard against the bottom of the pool and vaulted onto the deck. I followed her, eyeing the smooth curve of her hip.
Don't know which one of us was the more cautious one, but I was pretty sure Kate didn't want to mess this up any more than I did. So we dressed, not taking our eyes off of each other. Kate stepped into my arms and pulled me tight. Short kiss. A smile. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. We knew pretty much where we were going now, although I don't think we knew exactly how we were going to get there.
I found out the answer to that question on another rainy morning a couple of weeks later, when Kate wore her rose-embroidered brassiere again. I was nude and already semi-erect as I watched her unhook it.
.... There is more of this story ...