The chlorine was overpowering in my nostrils. Working day in and day out at a pool could get repetitive. Swimming had always felt natural to me, the flow of water over my body as I went gliding along a lane was relaxing. I started working at the pool three years ago. I was young then, now I was a little bit older. The pool had been my first job, it taught me confidence. It was work, but it was also lifestyle. I hated the smell of chlorine and yet in a way it began to smell like home. It was constant.
There was another constant too: her. She was just barely my senior, but she would never let me forget that. We had always known each other, but not well. That changed quickly once we were bonded by experience. Day in, day out. The work stayed the same and the ice melted. It was a starter job but it paid good money. The real reward however, was spending time with her. Her laugh was the most rewarding thing of all. What a goofball. It would start slow and then begin to roll. She didn't want me to think I was funny and tried to hold it back. Nothing felt better than that drawing out that reluctant laugh.
Then there were the little glances, stolen looks throughout a busy day. With each peek we drank each other in. Maybe sipped would be more appropriate. It was never more than a moment, a respite in the middle of an otherwise hectic schedule. Our eyes met and I was reminded why I loved the job. It was her hair, long and curly, drenched as it clung to her back when she surfaced above the water. It was the gentle curve of her hip, shapely and just right on her frame. It was the nonchalant smile, knowingly meeting my eyes.
The chlorine hit me again as I snapped back to my body. It was 8pm and close to the end of our shift. Climbing out of the water I dried off and took a look across the deck of the pool. The lane swim was almost done and she peered at some senior's doing jazzercize. I waved and she waved back, then I went to grab a towel. Now we just had to lock up and we were home free.
I shivered as a wave of cold washed over my skin. That was the sensation I hated second-most. My arms were ashy, the chlorine was too much for any skin care routine. I hit the switch for the radio and cut the music, signaling the end of the lane swim. Slowly the senior's shuffled out, she locked the gates, and strode to the office where I was waiting. Her long legs take easy steps, a bit thick and well muscled. That was one of the things you noticed as she swam. The water would flow around her as she went, curving around her hair, carving down her shoulders, flowing around her generous hips, and then slipping down her thighs and out behind her in a stream. Her outline in the water left a trace in my mind.
She came into the office and I handed her a towel. Starting up top she shook out her hair, patting it dry with the tower, and then worked her way down. I certainly didn't mind the show. It was a quiet night and not much was spoken between us. There had been a subtle anxiety in the air. She was leaving and we both knew it.
Her time at the pool had come to an end and that was for the best. Everyone had to move on eventually. I would leave soon enough too, but I couldn't fathom the thought of being there without her. It seemed so lonely. The pool was cold and she always brought the heat. We exchanged small talk and I asked her if she was excited. She was, but I could see the wistfulness in her eyes. She reached out with a fingernail and traced a line on my arm, scratching the dry skin and leaving a chalky white mark. She did that often, "temporary tattoos" we called them.
As her finger traced it's way across my bicep, I joked "Just don't draw a dick please, We work with children". She smiled coyly and drew a dick. I knew it. She giggled and I couldn't be mad about it. "Oh yeah you're a real riot" I smirked. "Let's see how you like this!" I parried as I snuck two fingers into her rib and started to tickle her. She dropped like a rock, writhing to get away from my probing fingers. I hit the floor too and we rolled, laughing like kids, lost in the moment.
Finally we came to a stop. A truce was established and tickling was declared a war crime. This was a good moment to end on, We could both look back fondly on our time together if it ended there. It didn't. As we laid on the ground, still partially wet, she made the first move. She rolled on top and pinned my arms at my sides, reaching down and planting a quick peck on my lips. Another stolen moment.
Suddenly it wasn't cold anymore. The warmth spread through our chests like the feeling of light through a windshield on a sunny day. She leaned in again, pressing her plump limps to mine, this time lingering. God her lips were soft. I melted into the floor, too stunned to react. "Wow" was the best I could muster. She giggled "Wow indeed" and her laugh brought me back into my body. I gripped her forearms with my hands, sat up and rolled over, flipping our positions and putting her flat on her back. This time I took the initiative, leaning in and snaking out my tongue past her lips. This time the kiss was breathless, so indulgent that neither of us wanted to break apart.
