Aardvar Summer

It was hot the summer I graduated from high school. I was about to enter my own wonder years, when I would go to college, become comfortable with the opposite sex, stumble onto my first nude beach, and generally grow into my own skin. But all of that was still to come. All I knew then, was that I was hot, bored, and perpetually horny.

My job at the restaurant epitomized all of these sensations. After a night of washing dishes, I could literally wring the sweat and steam out of my shirt. And the waitress. After a night of watching the waitresses prance around in their too-tight polyester uniforms, I would literally be bouncing off the walls. Most of the wait staff was girls from my high school, or college girls who had come home for the summer. When we closed in the evening, they would strip down into shorts and t-shirts, and flirt with themselves and the rest of us while cleaning up. I was in love with about half of them, and far too shy and awkward to flirt back with any potency. I was "friends" with all of them, which, as any adolescent male knows, can be a terrible hell.

I sometimes went home and jerked off in the shower, but this was a poor outlet for my nervous energy. I took to driving around town, listening to the classic rock station. One night I happened to drive by a friend's house. I knew they were out of town, and I found myself drawn to their backyard pool. I parked my car down the street a little, hopped the fence to their backyard. Everything was dark and quiet, so I stripped down and dove in. It was amazing: the initial rush of water over my naked body, the way it cooled and stimulated me at the same time, the taboo of public nudity. It felt better than masturbating. I probably only stayed in the water 15 minutes that first time, but I was hooked, and so began my summer of pool hopping.

This was a small town, and my targets were fairly limited. On the other hand, it was a small town, and security measures were almost non-existent, so I was able to swim with relative impunity. I soon developed a couple of favorites, which I chose based on the quality of the pool, its seclusion, and the ease of parking. (Having a good place to park was pretty important, because my biggest vulnerability was having some cop come along and check out my car. I had all the contingencies worked out--washing dishes gave me a lot of time to plan.) My absolute favorite place was a pool at the home of one of my high school friends. Her family was well off, and had a large, old pool in their backyard. The pool was nice, but the yard was perfect. It was carefully cultivated to look overgrown, with a lot of ivy and old growth trees. At night, with the moonlight whispering through the leaves, I could float in the water and imagine the trees encroaching on the pool and house, like some gothic horror movie. It was hard to get to, as the yard itself emptied into a wooded area, so I had to park down the street and walk (carefully) around the house. But when I had the time, this was usually where I headed.

The house and pool were owned by the family of my friend Amy, although "friends" may be a little too strong to describe our relationship. She had been our class' prom queen, and was the most popular girl in school. She was so far above me that I had never even bothered to fantasize about her, but we were friendly. Amy played trumpet in the band, and we sat beside each other for four years. She was also very intelligent. She hid this fact from most of the school, but I had been in enough advanced classes with her to know better, and we would occasionally talk about books we were reading.

I would like to say that I often thought of Amy as I floated in her pool, but the truth is I didn't, other than to vaguely keep an eye out in case she or her older sister came home late and surprised me. This never happened, however. In fact, I rarely saw any activity in the house at all, other than an occasional light in an upper floor window. The darkened house itself took on an air of mystery, especially when bathed in the tree-filtered light of the moon. The more I went, the more confident I became. I would strip down as soon as I was out of view from the street, hiding my clothes under a clump of bushes. The perfect hiding place, I thought, because I could head straight for them if I had to make a quick retreat.

I almost got to thinking of it was my yard, and my pool, and I even got so that I wouldn't bother checking to see if anyone was around. I would just stroll into the yard, jump in the pool, whatever. It was a recipe for disaster, and sure enough, I climbed out of the pool one hot, sticky night and was squeezing the water out of my hair when I heard a movement in the shadows behind me, and a quiet voice said, "Hello there."

I froze. My hands were in my hair, and I stood still, exposed in the moonlight. My first instinct was to turn and run for my clothes, but the voice was between me and them, and there was something soft and non-threatening about it. So I turned around slowly to see who was there. As I watched, a figure moved out from under a tree. It was Amy, and I had no idea how long she had been there. I was so stunned that I could only stand stupidly, naked and dripping. She regarded me for a moment, with a thoughtful look on her face.

"I've been watching you for some time, you know," she said.

There was a pause. I couldn't think of anything to say, so she continued, "Not just tonight, for a couple of weeks. You're pretty dedicated."

"Yeah," I said lamely, "I like your pool."

"So I've noticed." She watched me as I nervously tried to brush the water off my arms. "Why do you do it?"

"What? Swim in your pool?"

"Well, I'm mostly interested in why you do it naked."

I was glad she couldn't see me blush in the darkness. "I don't know," I said lamely, "it's just fun. A release I guess."

Amy didn't say anything for a second. Finally, she took a deep breath, and said, "I want to try."

"What???"

"I want to try." Her words became easier now. "I've wanted to go skinny dipping for as long as I can remember, and you're the first person I've known who does it. I want you to take me."

I didn't say anything, trying to absorb this.

"I have some friends down the street who are gone on vacation. We can go there tomorrow night. Perfectly safe."

I had a feeling that "perfectly safe" included her being safe from me. I hesitated again, and pushed my hair back while I thought.

"You have to do it," she said, "I'll never do it by myself. And I haven't turned you in. You owe me."

No arguing with that, so I shrugged. "Ok," I said, "I get off work at 11 tomorrow. Meet you right here."

Amy smiled, took one last look at me, and turned to go back to her house.

After work the next night, I drove over to her house. We had decided to start with a pool that belonged to a family friend. Amy was pretty sure that they were out of town, and their house was in a secluded section of the same neighborhood, so it was a safe first bet. I parked in my usual spot and hoofed it over to Amy's yard. My hormones were surging at full throttle, and I had long since decided that I wasn't going to miss a single moment of being naked in front of her. So as soon as I was out of sight of the street, I stripped down, hid my clothes, and jumped into the pool. The water was warm, I remember, and I immediately felt the sweat and grime from the day wash away. I also felt that familiar tingling in my groin area, so I got out and settled into the shadows to wait for Amy.

I didn't have long to wait. Within minutes I heard light footsteps as she walked towards the pool, and I stepped forward to greet her, my heart pounding with anticipation. She was wearing shorts and a dark button down blouse, and she seemed surprised to see me already naked.

"Oh," she said, "I. . ., uh, I don't know. . .uh. . .shouldn't we wait. . . ." Her voice trailed off.

I shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. "Well," I said, "it's not as much fun unless you're naked."

"But how will we get there?"

"We can either run straight down the street," I said, "or circle around through the woods. You can wait to undress if you want, but I'm telling you, it's a lot more fun this way. Besides, the less encumbered we are, the better." I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring grin.

I don't think she was convinced, but she began to unbutton her shirt. Her hands were shaking so much that she could barely do the buttons. I should have turned away and given her some privacy, but I couldn't, and I could feel my erection begin to grow. Finally, she got the shirt open and off, and with a clumsy, jerky motion pulled down her shorts. She kicked them away and was left wearing a very pretty, lacey black bra with matching lace panties.

She saw me staring at them and giggled nervously. "Yes," she said, "I wore my best underwear. Seems kind of silly, doesn't it?"

"No," I stammered, "you look great."

She giggled again, but her confidence was back, and she quickly removed her bra and stepped out of her panties. She was tall and lean, but her body retained just enough of its adolescent softness. Her small breasts were apple shaped and firm, but pale and supple. And her hips offered the barest hint of a feminine curve, as they surrounded her carefully trimmed pubic hair. My erection was so large I felt like it would explode. With an effort, I forced myself to look her in the eye, only to find her staring at my bulging cock.

"Hey there," she said, "can you run with that thing?" And with that, she turned and sprang away towards the front of the house. I knew that she was a cheerleader, but I had never realized how athletic she was until I saw her bound across the yard like a jackrabbit. It was also the absolute last thing I expected her to do, and by the time I got myself moving, she had already disappeared around the house. I followed, running hard. When I got around the house, I could see her running easily down the sidewalk, already several houses ahead of me. I couldn't believe that she was running in plain sight like that, and I hesitated for a moment. But when she stopped, turned, cocked her hip and motioned to me with her finger, I sprinted after her as hard as I could. I caught up with her just as she turned into the driveway of our target house. The house itself was dark, but the driveway was illuminated by a street light, and by its light we encountered our first problem: the pool was surrounded by a tall fence, and the front entry gate was locked. At that moment, car lights appeared down the street, so I said, "follow me," and moved quickly off the driveway, around to the side of the fence, which we then followed towards the rear gate. It was very dark away from the streetlights, so Amy grabbed my elbow to keep us from getting separated, so that my arm kept rub up against her breast while my fingers would brush against her inner thigh each time she stepped forward. I didn't think this was the most effective way to travel, but I didn't complain and tried not to think about my returning erection.

Mercifully, the back gate was open. The was the direction I wanted to come all long, because immediately beyond the alley running behind the houses was the same forest that Amy's yard emptied into. This was the only house in the neighborhood with such as fence, and I had had no idea that it contained a pool. We opened the gate, stepped in, and paused to survey our surroundings. Amy was breathing hard, not just from exertion I thought, and I could feel her body quivering with excitement, feel the heat it radiated as she stood beside me. She looked at me, and her eyes glittered in the moonlight.

"You're right," she said between breaths, "it is a lot more fun this way. Can we get into the pool?"

I was about to reply when those car lights appeared again, this time in the alley behind us. Although we were shielded from the alley by the fence and garage, we both tensed and waited silently for the car to drive by. To our horror, the lights stopped right in front of the garage, and we heard the sound of a garage door opening.

"Oh crap," said Amy, "I didn't think they were coming home until next week."

"Too late to worry about that now," I said, "we'd better get out of here."

With no other real option, we ran up towards the house. I ran over to the front gate, but the lock was a deadbolt, and there was no way to get it open. As the car pulled into the garage, I looked around frantically for somewhere hide. Unlike Amy's yard, however, which had a lot of trees and bushes, this one was nearly bare, having only the pool and a swing set. If they were to turn on an outside light, we were dead meat.

"We are so busted," Amy whispered excitedly. In retrospect, she didn't seem nearly as upset as I might have expected. At the time, I was too busy looking for an escape to notice anything. By this point, we were huddled up next to the house, and on impulse I pushed on the nearest window. Surprisingly, it gave a little, and I got my fingers under the sash and opened it all the way.

"Get in," I said, a little too loudly. Without a word, Amy crawled through the window, momentarily sticking her round ass in my face. I had to shake off that little thrill before jumping in after her. She hadn't quite gotten out of the way, so I landed on top of her and had to disentangle myself before shutting the window. Amy's flesh was still warm and flush with exertion and excitement. She still hadn't said anything, but I could hear her breathing heavily.

Cold porcelain pressing against my back told me we were in a bathroom. It occurred to me that this might be the first place they came to after a long trip, and that our position was still precarious. "We'd better get moving," I told Amy.

"Yes, the front door," she agreed. We got out of the bathroom and headed down a short hall that emptied into a large, open entryway. Our feet slapped against the bare tile. Before we could cross over to the front door, however, we heard a door open behind us, and a light came on in the kitchen directly behind us. The light filtering through the kitchen door illuminated our path to the front door; had we continued, we would have been seen instantly. It was my turn to freeze helplessly, but Amy grabbed my arm and pulled me up a carpeted stairway.

The stairs emptied into a landing that was actually open to the entryway below, but we couldn't be seen from below without leaning over a railing to look down. We heard voices in that entryway, and someone switched on the lights for the stairs and landing, so we were bathed in light. It was a weird moment: we were about to be caught, and all I could think of was that this was the first time I had seen Amy naked in full light. What I remember most was her nipples. Though small, they were sticking straight out. In my adolescent, hormone crazed view of the world, her thin athletic body, with its long legs, slight but definite curves, and erect nipples, standing naked there on that landing, was a vision of perfection.

Fortunately, Amy was thinking a little more clearly than I, and she continued pulling me down the hall. The voices were on the stairs, so we ducked into the first room we came to and shut the door. When my eyes re-adjusted to the darkness, I saw we were in what seemed to me a spare bedroom. It had a bed, dresser and closet, and it had a musty, unused feel to it. The voices were just outside of our door, which seemed too close for comfort, so I pointed Amy over to the closet. It was not deep, but was very long for a closet, and nearly full. There was some luggage in front, with space for what looked like some missing pieces. Next to the luggage was a long rack of clothes, winter coats and long dresses mostly. There were a lot of them, but it was so dark I couldn't tell how long the line of clothes went. Still, I pushed Amy passed the luggage to the end of the closet. I sort of enjoyed the feel of the clothes on my naked body as I brushed by them.

We had to go several feet, but finally reached the end of the closet and settled in behind the clothes. The fit was so tight that we were forced to press up against each other, Amy facing the wall and me pressed up behind her, my groin crushed against her firm ass. The good thing, though, was that we were totally hidden, unless someone actually bothered to wade through the press of clothes. A really good thing, because no sooner had we gotten settled, then the room light came on, and we heard footsteps moving towards the closet. I held my breath and tried to stay very still. The closet door opened and someone shoved the clothes down a little and deposited the missing luggage back in its place. Then the footsteps retreated, the light went out, and we heard the door shut. It was totally dark.

Amy raised her hands over her head, and with some effort turned around to face me. This mostly involved pushing me back against the clothes (I was afraid we'd pull the rack down) and pushing my semi-erect penis off to the side with her hips. When she finally got turned, we were standing face to face. There was no room for her to bring her hands down, which had the erotic effect of flattening her breasts while emphasizing her nipples, which were still erect and firm and pressed into my chest. My penis was still off to the side, but the angle was such that I could actually feel her pubic hair with my balls. Almost at once my cock was straining against the pressure of her hips. It wasn't very comfortable, but totally erotic.

She inclined her head forward, and whispered into my ear, "So, is this normally what happens?"

"Amy, I'm sooo sorry. I've never been caught before."

"Are you kidding! This is the most fun I've ever had. Ever."

"That's good," I replied, "because I we may be here a while. We can't risk moving until they go to sleep."

"The only problem is that it's so stuffy. There is something weird though. . .I can kind of feel fresh air behind me."

With that, she turned around again, which moved my cock back into position between the curves of her ass. I could tell that she was fiddling with something on the wall. She fell back slightly, and then I felt a wave of cool air coming from what now appeared to be a hole in the closet wall. Peering forward, I saw movement, and I realized that we were looking into a room, through the grate of what seemed to be the air conditioning duct. I leaned my head forward next to her for a better look. A woman came into view, stopping right in front of the vent. The woman looked to be in her forties or so, although I wasn't a very good judge. She was very attractive, even through my adolescent fogged eyes, slender, with a thin, aristocratic nose and carefully styled hair. She was wearing an expensive looking, chocolate colored sleeveless dress that came down just below her knees. As we watched, she unzipped the dress and casually stepped out of it, turning slightly to check her hair in a nearby mirror. Underneath, she was wearing a black silky looking bra, and, to my amazement, dark nylon stockings attached to a black lace garter. I had never seen anything like that before, and I loved the way the nylons looked on her legs. I was so intrigued by it that it took me a second to notice that she was not wearing any panties! I was looking at the full bush of a beautiful woman who was old enough to be my mother.

The woman reached behind her and removed her bra. Her breasts were bigger than Amy's, but a little saggy. Still, I thought that overall, her body looked really good. She obviously took care of herself, and the garter - stocking combo gave her a classy, sexy aura that I found enticing. After removing her bra, she turned her head and said something to the room behind her. A moment later, a large, middle aged, naked man moved up behind her and cupped her breasts with his hands. Without turning around, then woman raised one arm and pulled his head down for a kiss. Then she did turn around, knelt down, grabbed the middle aged guy's dick in her hand, and began sucking on it, slowly and first, then harder and harder.