The next few days were the weekend, and so I spent them at work, completely consumed with ideas of what Krissy and I could do together. We'd reached a new level of intimacy and I couldn't wait to explore all the possible permutations. But with everything I was looking forward to, something else showed up that I hadn't been anticipating. Krissy got her period.
In some ways, the timing was perfect. The crimson wave had risen during the Friday before, so after a weekend where we hadn't seen each other at all, we were probably already close to the end. Further, even though I'd kept my cum far away from anyplace unsafe, I won't lie that I was a little relieved that Krissy stayed on schedule. We took Monday off completely, but when Tuesday afternoon came around, we were raring to go. Except our usual activities weren't an option.
I suggested going to a movie or hanging out around the house, but Krissy shot both down. I realized this was one of those times where she had only asked for ideas as a way of pretending to be polite and shut myself up.
"I think we should go to the pool," Krissy said.
See, I lied before: there was one other thing to do in town beyond go to church, get a haircut, or hit up the Blockbuster video. We had a community pool.
Built near the high school grounds, it had a large building for lockers and showers, two large pools (one for adults, one for kids), lots of lounge chairs, a playground, and a snack bar. In other words, it was a pretty impressive facility for such a small town. Most days, it seemed like almost everyone who lived in the area was out lounging in the sun, pausing occasionally to cool off in the water.
By the time I was in college, I'd pretty much outgrown the place. But my sister was working at the snack bar that summer and she told me she could get me in if I wanted. I'd told Krissy it was an option at one point, and I guess it had stuck in her mind.
"Can you do that?" I asked, "Swim while you're, you know?"
"Yes," Krissy said, disdainfully. "It's not a big deal."
Well, OK then.
We parked at the back of a very full lot and walked across the steaming pavement. I could already smell the chlorine wafting over us. Hear the shouts and squeals of little kids as they splashed and stumbled.
We made our way through the front gate and past the kid pool. The place was packed, and walking around avoiding the swarm of running, dripping kids was almost like an Olympic sport. I got the feeling Krissy was ready to punt one if they got too close.
We managed to make our way past the kid pool and up a slight incline to the adult area. Here it was quieter. Mostly elderly people napping in their chairs or doing long, slow laps.
There were a couple of open loungers on the far side, and we set up camp there. Krissy had on a cover-up, a robe that covered her from her wrists to right below her knees. She pulled it off and, I swear, time itself stopped to stare.
Krissy had on a red, one-piece swimsuit. It wasn't revealing in the least. It wouldn't have been considered revealing thirty years before. let alone then. It didn't matter. I stared, dumbfounded, at the beautiful blonde -- her body filling out that suit so perfectly.
Krissy tsked her tongue at me, breaking my thousand-mile stare. I took off my shirt and started rubbing on sunscreen.
"Can you get my back?" Krissy asked.
Oh fuck. I started to salivate just thinking about it.
It wasn't that big a deal, honestly. It was only the top of Krissy's back, and even that was barely exposed. But still, the chance to rub cream into that amazing body, I was enraptured.
"You want me to do your front, too?" I asked after I finished rubbing the sunscreen in.
Krissy turned and gave me a little slap on the shoulder. But then she took the bottle of lotion and did my back for me. I was surprised at how she seemed to luxuriate in running her hands on my body. Almost with the same reverence as I'd done for her.
Like I said before, I had a regular, boring boy body. Nothing to get excited about. My chest was broad and a bit hairy. I didn't have a gut, but I wasn't carrying a six-pack either. I had good legs -- muscular calves and strong thighs -- but who looks at those, really?
Krissy, though, seemed to enjoy me. I was pretty sure the entire pool was watching her do it, too, and wondering what I'd used as blackmail.
"I should have worn the other outfit," Krissy said, pouty. "Everyone's looking at me."
"I don't think the bathing suit is the problem," I said. Krissy gave me another glare, but she let it go.
Finally ready, we stepped into the water. It was cool, the perfect temperature on such a hot day, but it still took a bit to get used to it. After we both got acclimated, we did a few laps back and forth. Then we lazed about in the shallow end. It was cool and comfortable to sit. I barely felt the sun on my shoulders.
Krissy pinched her nose, took a deep breath, and dunked herself in the water. She came up gasping, hair dark with wet. Fuck she was so sexy.
She had been sure to keep things chaste this whole time. Except for the sunscreen, we didn't touch each other at all. But that wasn't something I was going to allow to continue.
When Krissy dunked herself the second time, I went with her. On the third, I reached out and grabbed one of her boobs. I heard her angry hiss through the water.
Once we were back above, I got a firm slap on the wrist and a dirty look. But whatever, it was worth it. Krissy went off to do more laps. I leaned against the wall. I was off in my own world when I felt something grip my dick.
I nearly leapt out of the pool. Then I looked down and saw the red, wriggling mirage of Krissy underwater. She popped up, grinning like a naughty schoolgirl.
"Serves you right," Krissy said. But if she thought that was punishment, then she'd missed the point.
By then, we were getting pretty pruney, so we climbed out to dry off on the loungers. Krissy reached into her purse and pulled out a book, something by John Grisham. I had a Robert Jordan and I did the same. I didn't think Krissy would be too pleased by my choice of swords and sorcery (too juvenile, according to her, as if legal thrillers were the height of maturity) and I hoped she wouldn't look too closely at the title.
I got involved in the book until a shadow crossed my vision. I looked up and saw a tall, broad-shouldered guy. He was well-muscled, his chest hairless. His dark black hair was wet from the pool, his sharp cheekbones dotted with freckles. The epitome of goyishe good looking.
It took me a moment before I realized I was looking at Brad Williams, a kid I'd gone to high school with. He'd been in Krissy's year, a bit of a basketball star (for whatever that was worth in our little town). He stood with his hands on his hips and grinned down at Krissy. He hadn't noticed me, at all.
The beautiful blonde girl shaded her eyes and stared up.
"Oh, hi Brad," she said. She looked back at her book.
For a reason I can't explain, I felt my chest tighten. I'd never gotten along with the jocks, duh, though I wasn't exactly bullied either. Just ostracized. And even then, Brad hadn't been in my class, so I'd never been bothered by him at all.
But there was some basic encoding in that moment that made me feel, I don't know, like I was trespassing. As if I'd been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I'd managed to sneak my way in with a popular hot blonde girl, and now the jock was here to deliver the comeuppance for my crime.
I didn't say it made sense. But I felt the terror choke me all the same.
"Hey Krissy," Brad said, "It's good to see you. How's it going?"
"I'm fine," Krissy said, dismissive. OK, so that was her usual state with most people. But something about her seemed extra flippant. I wondered why.
Despite all her complaints about name calling at school, Krissy had absolutely been one of the popular girls. You don't look like
