Chapter 3: Sun-Kissed Secrets: A Weekend with Grace

I picked up Grace around two o’clock on Saturday afternoon. She carried a large duffle bag, while I had my usual small overnight bag. Like with Anastasia, I’d pre-registered at the motel that morning and even left flowers and a basket of fruit in the room.

When we arrived, Grace seemed both embarrassed and shy about the flowers and poetry book. She was genuinely grateful, her face flushing a deep, rosy red. She let me hug her, but we didn’t kiss, not yet.

Though I’d worked myself into an excited state over our overnight, watching her blush made me wonder if this was really right for someone so shy. Anastasia had been persuasive, saying all Grace needed was a serious date, but I worried about what it might mean for Grace’s confidence. I imagined Anastasia might have pushed her harder than she pushed me.

I’d brought Grace to the motel under the pretense of using their winterized pool. It was a low-budget place, with the outdoor pool covered by a large inflatable dome. To reach it, you stepped outside briefly, then entered the dome through an airlock. Inside, the air was warmer, thick with the scent of chlorine. I expected to come out looking like a blonde after our swim. We agreed to start with a swim.

After dropping our bags, we changed quickly. Grace emerged from the bathroom wearing a modest one-piece swimsuit that hugged her curves but kept things tasteful, almost innocent. She had nice legs and a figure that flirted with the edge of “busty” without fully crossing it.

Grace stood about five feet three or four, with long, dark blond hair flowing past her shoulders. She wore glasses with pointy frames, a bit old-fashioned, giving her a slight nerdy vibe, but on this body in this suit, she was undeniably attractive.

We grabbed towels and stepped out of the motel room’s back door, sprinted barefoot across the chilly patio to the pool entrance. The September air was biting, about fifteen degrees Celsius, and I’m sure my body temperature dropped accordingly. We laughed as we dashed inside the warm bubble dome to find the pool area empty.

I dipped a toe in, perfect temperature despite the strong chlorine smell. “It’s perfect,” I said. Grace smiled and climbed the pool stairs.

I dove in from the deep end and glided underwater toward the shallow end where Grace stood, gradually lowering herself into the warm water.

I swam over, helped her steady herself, until only her neck was not submerged. Most of her hair was still dry.

I turned her gently toward me. Whispering, I said, “Grace, we’ve never kissed. I think it’s time.”

She nodded shyly and let me press my lips to hers a few times. She didn’t kiss back, her body was stiff, and her eyes were tightly shut.

After the fourth kiss, I smiled softly. “I think you’re supposed to kiss me back,” I said with infinite patience.

Opening her eyes, she looked down at the water between us. “I’m sort of scared,” she admitted.

I thought for a moment, then said gently, “Try this. Kiss me.”

“There’s no rush, Grace. We’ll take this exactly at your pace. I want tonight to be about what you feel comfortable with, not what anyone else expects,” I continued, trying to keep my voice calm and reassuring.

She exhaled shakily, her shoulders relaxing just a bit in my arms. “Thanks, Steve. That means a lot.”

I gave her a soft smile and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“We’ll start with the swim, enjoy the water, and see where the evening takes us. No pressure, no expectations.”

Grace managed a small smile, and I could tell she appreciated the reprieve from the anxiety that had been weighing her down. For the first time since we arrived, I felt like maybe this night could be something more than just nerves and awkwardness.
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She whispered to me during my attentions, “No one has ever...” She didn’t finish the sentence; she just put her head back in obvious enjoyment of what I was doing.

I smiled softly and brushed a lock of hair from her face. “I’m honored to be your first, then. You’re doing great.”

Grace’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink as she looked down shyly. “I just don’t want to mess it up.”

“You can’t mess this up,” I assured her. “It’s all about feeling comfortable and enjoying the moment. We’ll take things slow, no pressure.”

Her eyes met mine, searching, and I could see the flicker of trust beginning to grow. We drew each other close again, the warmth of the water and our closeness melting away the last of her nerves.

I followed her up the steps, my heart pounding with anticipation. The cool air outside the dome hit us as we stepped out, making Grace shiver slightly in her wet swimsuit.

Inside the room, the warmth was a welcome contrast.
Grace closed the door behind us and leaned back against it, looking both shy and excited. I reached out slowly, tracing my fingers along her damp shoulders, feeling the goosebumps rise beneath my touch. She melted into my hands, her breath hitching softly.

I lowered my mouth to her neck, kissing gentle trails along her skin as my hands explored the curves I’d only just begun to know. Her body responded, warm and inviting despite her earlier nerves. The moment felt delicate and electric all at once, like we were discovering something new together.

Grace’s eyes met mine, filled with a mix of trust and curiosity. I whispered,
“We go at your pace. No rush, no expectations, just us.”

She nodded, a small smile breaking through her shy demeanor, and pulled me close again.

I let my hands linger on her sides, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath as she leaned into me. Slowly, I slid my fingers beneath the edge of her swimsuit, tracing light patterns over the soft skin of her side boobs. Grace’s eyes fluttered closed, her lips parting slightly in a quiet sigh.

I kissed my way up her neck, savoring the warmth of her skin and the subtle tremble beneath my lips. Her arms wrapped around me hesitantly at first, then more firmly as the tension between us melted away.

She was so tender, so delicate, so new to this, and I was determined to make every touch, every kiss, a reassurance. I moved my hands carefully, exploring the gentle curves of her back and the swell of her hips, always reading her responses.

Grace’s breath quickened, and she whispered, “Steve...” as if seeking permission or encouragement.