A swim.
You glide through the water, your last couple of strokes taking you to the wall. Lifting your goggles and smoothing your hair back from your forehead, you think for the umpteenth time, "I need to get myself a cap."
But then again, the water feels so good winding through your long tresses - be a shame to restrict them under a shrink-wrap rubber cap.
The water is so rejuvenating. It's like the grime of the day washes away as you lap; mentally and physically. You can't think of anything else, just the steady rhythm of your strokes, controlling your breathing, and luxuriating in the silence, with only your heartbeat to pace yourself.
You slide over towards the ladder, pulse still elevated, face flushed pink and chest rising and falling slightly. A good workout. "There!" you think, "Another few thousand of those and I'll be damn proud of the shape I'm in. Hubby better notice."
As you reach for the ladder handles, your eyes move up and see me standing there, watching you.
"Hi." I smile. "Nice form."
"Thanks," you reply, surprised, "It's coming - my stroke is improving."
"No, I meant nice form. As in your figure. You look great. The lapping is paying off."
Wonderfully, you blush (just a tinge) and laugh off my compliment. "Throw me that towel will you?"
"In a second," I reply with a smile. "I want to make the most of this moment."
Smiling, you pose as you climb the ladder. "New suit, you like?"
Speedo. Racerback. I like.
"Yep, looks good. You look good in it."
"Yeah, well the goal is to look good out of it," you grin. "Gotta do something to get my man to take notice."
"He's a fool," I respond, and turn to pick up your towel. I toss it over and you wrap it around your waist, covering up those long, glorious legs.
"Sit, please." You motion to a deck chair. "I need to moisturize after all that chlorine."
"That's the secret. Do it right after, while the pores are still open," I agree. I'm watching your hands as they grasp the bottle of lotion. Firm. Long fingers. Nice.
"God, it's hot. What a summer it's been." You pour a small drop of lotion onto your palm and work it into your left calf. The towel rides up a little.
"I know. Having this pool here....what a godsend," I say. Meanwhile I'm thinking, "Watching you in this pool, here...what a godsend."
Your eyes close in the sun as you work the lotion into your leg. We make small talk as I kick back on the deck chair.
"Shall I make us a couple of drinks?" I ask. "G and T?"
"Perfect," you muse, but you aren't really paying attention. Your muscles are stiff from the workout, lactic acid building up, so you work a little harder with the lotion. Outer thigh, inner thigh.
"Wish he wasn't here," you think to yourself. "I could get some real satisfaction if I were alone."
I mix up the drinks. Lots of tonic, a little gin, lots of ice, and set one down beside you. As I lean in close to do so, I catch the scent of the lotion. Coconut.
"So, can you stay for dinner?" you ask.
"Well, first, I want to watch you get that hydrating done. I'm enjoying the view."
Your eyes snap open and you realize I am back on my deck chair, glass raised, but my eyes are drinking you in.
You can feel my gaze on you. You can't help it, but your nipples react. "Dammit!" you think.
