Deep End Desires

25. Maj Pool, Belgrade

The sun scorched over Belgrade, the kind of relentless heat that made the concrete shimmer and the pool water glisten like molten glass. 25. Maj was alive with summer chaos kids shrieking in the shallow end, couples stretched lazily across towels, and the steady hum of music weaving through laughter, laced with the familiar scent of sunscreen, sweat, and chlorine.

Stefan adjusted his sunglasses, leaning back on his elbows, muscles flexing as he stretched out on a towel by the poolside. His bronzed chest gleamed under the sun, a lazy, confident smirk tugging at his lips while he watched his friends roughhouse in the water.

It was meant to be just another casual summer hangout eleven people in total.

Five guys, including himself.

Four girls mostly girlfriends or friends-of-friends.

And two newcomers himself... and someone he hadn't met yet.

Miloš, Vanja, and Luka his closest boys had thrown it together. The usual crew, plus a couple of faces from uni. Same vibe as always.

At least, it was until he saw her.

He didn't notice when she first arrived. But the moment she peeled off her cover-up and sauntered toward the pool, Stefan's attention locked in like a predator scenting prey.

Isidora.

Thick. Curvy in ways that weren't just eye-catching they were impossible to ignore.

Her black bikini clung to her pale, sun-kissed skin like it was fighting a losing battle. Hips that swayed with effortless confidence, thick thighs that kissed with every step, and an ass so dangerously full it looked like it could smother a man and leave him grateful. A soft, plush belly only exaggerated the sinful curve of her hourglass frame. And her tits fuckin massive, barely contained, the bikini straps digging into her shoulders like they were one wrong move away from surrender.

Long, damp brown hair cascaded down her back, catching the light as droplets traced down her spine. Her round face lit up with every laugh a sound Stefan found himself craving more of within seconds. There was nothing shy about her. Isidora radiated playful, sassy energy throwing teasing jabs at the guys, mock-wrestling with the other girls like she owned every set of eyes around her.

And she did.

Especially his.

Stefan's gaze was magnetized dragged along every bounce of her hips, every shift of those heavy curves, like gravity had chosen her as its center.

"Yo," Miloš's elbow nudged him out of his trance, a knowing grin plastered across his face. "Quit staring, bro. That's Isidora. First time meeting her?"

Stefan didn't even try to deny it. "Yeah... who invited her?"

"Jelena they're best friends," Miloš said, nodding toward one of the girls splashing in the water. His grin widened as he leaned in conspiratorially. "Isidora just dumped her boyfriend last week. Caught the idiot cheating."

Stefan's smirk curled wider, his gaze never leaving the thick beauty across the pool.

"His loss."

Miloš let out a low chuckle. "Careful, man. She's... a lot of woman."

But Stefan was already gone mentally, at least. His eyes followed Isidora as she bent over to adjust her towel, the black bikini bottoms straining to contain the sheer volume of her ass. The fabric looked one deep breath away from surrendering entirely.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, an unconscious reaction to the view in front of him.

"I like a challenge," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Miloš.

Moments later, Jelena's voice cut through the humid air, calling Isidora over. The girls dove into the pool with a splash, laughter ringing out as they disappeared beneath the surface.

Stefan pushed himself up, stretching in that lazy, deliberate way that made his abs flex and his swim shorts ride low on his hips. He strolled toward the pool's edge, pretending to casually scan the water though his focus never wavered from the spot where Isidora swam.

When she surfaced, flicking her wet hair back like something out of a fantasy, Stefan's patience was rewarded. Her laughter faded as her gaze caught his. For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.

Then just as he hoped her eyes dropped. First to his chest... then lower.

A flicker of curiosity. A spark of interest. And when she looked back up, it was with a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips.

Oh yeah. She noticed.

The afternoon blurred into the kind of playful chaos only summer could bring volleyball games that dissolved into splash fights, sunbathing sessions interrupted by someone dumping cold water, and constant trips to the kiosk for beers and sodas.

Stefan kept close to his boys, but without fail, he found himself drifting toward wherever Isidora was like his body knew better than to stay away. He wasn't the only one stealing glances, but he sure as hell was the only one bold enough to make it obvious.

It didn't take long for opportunity to present itself.

Isidora reached for the pool's edge, struggling slightly to pull herself out of the deep end, her thick thighs kicking beneath the water. Stefan was already there, hand outstretched before she could ask.

"Need a lift?" His voice was smooth as silk, that signature cocky grin firmly in place.

Isidora arched a brow, her lips curling into a playful smirk as she accepted. Her hand slid into his, soft but strong, and as he braced his feet and pulled, her body pressed against his all of it.

The slick warmth of her curves molded to him for a fleeting second her belly against his abs, those heavy tits skimming his chest, and her thick thighs gliding past his as she climbed out.

She adjusted her bikini top with a teasing flick, the fabric barely holding on.

"Thanks, strong man," she teased, flicking a few droplets of water at him with a wink.

Stefan's gaze lingered just a beat too long on the deep, glistening valley of cleavage before meeting her eyes with a smirk that said he wasn't sorry in the slightest.

"Anytime."

As Isidora sauntered away, hips swaying with deliberate rhythm, Stefan let out a low whistle barely audible but laced with pure hunger.

Yeah...

He was hooked.

Later in the afternoon, they found themselves side by side sharing a towel, the excuse being that Isidora's was too wet. Neither of them seemed in a hurry to fix the situation. Their legs brushed, stayed that way, and every casual shift only brought them closer.

The conversation flowed effortlessly teasing barbs, playful smirks, Stefan's cocky humor colliding perfectly with Isidora's sharp, sassy comebacks. It was less small talk and more like a game each trying to see who could get under the other's skin first.

At one point, Isidora slid her sunglasses down just enough to peer at him over the lenses, her lips curling into a knowing smile.

"You always this obvious when you're checking a girl out?" she asked, her tone light but laced with challenge.

Stefan shrugged, unapologetic, his grin as shameless as ever.

"When she looks like you? Every damn time."

Isidora laughed a rich, throaty sound that made Stefan's stomach tighten but he didn't miss the faint flush creeping into her cheeks. Confidence or not, his words were hitting their mark.

It was obvious to both of them the playful sparring was just a prelude.

It wasn't a question of if things would escalate... only when.

The sun dipped lower, casting everything in a golden haze, but the heat refused to let up. It clung to skin, to the thick air between two bodies sitting far too close to be innocent.

Stefan lounged back on his elbows, legs stretched out, his thigh pressing deliberately against Isidora's bare skin. The chaotic sounds of their friends became background noise just distant splashes and laughter fading beneath the heavy silence charged between them.

Isidora sprawled beside him like she owned the space damp hair draped over her shoulders, droplets sliding down her soft curves. Her bikini top looked exhausted from its efforts, the heavy swell of her breasts threatening to spill free with every subtle movement.

She caught him staring again of course he was and this time, her smirk was pure mischief.

"If you stare any harder," she murmured, voice silky with amusement, "you're gonna burn a hole through my bikini."

Stefan's gaze didn't waver.

"Not my fault you're making it work overtime."

That earned him a low, sultry laugh. Isidora nudged him with her elbow, the soft press of her arm lingering against his.

"Flatterer."

"Nah," Stefan countered smoothly, shifting to face her more fully. His eyes made no secret of their path dragging slowly from her flushed face, down the glistening curve of her cleavage, before meeting her gaze again with a look that said exactly what he was thinking.

"Just honest."

Isidora rolled her eyes, but the way her teeth caught her bottom lip betrayed her. The compliments weren't just landing they were sinking in, stirring something beneath that playful exterior.

For a moment, the sass faded. Her fingers drifted down, absently tugging at the edge of her bikini bottom like she'd suddenly remembered just how much skin she was showing. The shift in her posture wasn't insecurity it was awareness.

The kind that comes when you know someone's undressing you with their eyes... and you secretly love it.

Isidora's playful energy faltered, her voice dipping into something quieter almost hesitant.

"You know..." she began, her fingers absently toying with the edge of her bikini bottom, "not every guy's into... all this."

She gestured vaguely at her body, the words wrapped in humor, but Stefan caught the flicker of vulnerability beneath it the kind of comment that sounded rehearsed, like she'd said it before to cover deeper wounds.

"My ex..." she continued, her gaze drifting toward the pool where Jelena and the other girls lounged. Her lips curled into a wry smile, but it was thin forced.

"Yeah... he made it pretty clear I was a bit too much to handle for him that's why he cheated on me. He started dating some small skinny girl"

Her fingers traced a slow path across her soft belly, then down to where her thick thighs pressed together, as if cataloging every inch she'd been made to second-guess.

She let out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, but Stefan didn't miss how her shoulders tensed.

"I mean... look at Jelena," she murmured, nodding subtly toward her slim friend.

"Standing next to her, I look like... two of her. And that one ate another Jelena."

The words hung between them, heavier than the summer heat.

"Some guys see me and think 'too much work.' Too soft, too thick... just too fat for their taste. They don't to date a chubby girl with belly rolls and celulite on her legs"

Her voice faltered at the end, the bravado slipping completely for a heartbeat.

Stefan's brow ticked up, his smirk fading not out of disinterest, but because something far sharper had taken hold.

His gaze dropped slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every curve she'd just criticized. The plush swell of her thighs, the soft dip of her waist, the heavy rise and fall of her chest. To him, it wasn't too much it was perfect.

"Too much?" he echoed, his voice low, almost amused.

He leaned in, close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath against her ear.

"No such thing."

His lips brushed a smirk against her temple before he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes dark, focused, hungry.

"I don't mind diving into the deep end..." he drawled, gaze flicking down her body again like a man about to devour a feast.

"In fact, I fucking prefer it."

Isidora tried to shrug it off, forcing a laugh, but Stefan wasn't fooled. He could see the way her gaze dipped, the subtle way her fingers fidgeted with the damp fabric of her bikini telltale signs of someone who wanted to believe him but had been told otherwise too many times.

After a pause, she sighed, her cheeks flushing with that mix of embarrassment and frustration.

"He wasn't exactly... equipped," she admitted, her voice softer now. She glanced sideways at Stefan, gauging his reaction.

"Said it was hard to... y'know, reach. From behind."

That did it.

Stefan's grin returned slow, wicked, and full of intent.

"Let me get this straight..." he leaned in again, voice dropping to a gravelly whisper meant only for her.

"You're telling me he couldn't hit it right... because your ass and thighs was too thick for him to pass?"

Isidora let out a laugh this one more genuine but there was still that lingering edge of frustration in her eyes.

"Pretty much. Anal was his go-to. Said at least then he felt like he was doing something."

Stefan clicked his tongue, shaking his head like he'd just heard a tragic story.

"Sounds like he was playing in the wrong league."

Her brow arched, sass flickering back to life, but now there was something else behind it curiosity, maybe even hope.

"Oh yeah? And what league are you in?"

Stefan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he let his gaze drift down once more, taking his time committing every soft curve, every stretch mark, every inch of her plush frame to memory.

She shifted slightly under his stare, her thighs parting just a little where they sat, her chest rising with a deeper breath. The air between them grew heavier charged.

Finally, Stefan leaned in close enough for his lips to almost graze her ear, his voice dropping into something dark and promising.

"The kind that doesn't back down from a challenge..."

Isidora shivered whether from the lingering heat or the weight of Stefan's words, even she didn't seem sure. But when her eyes met his again, something had shifted.

Gone was the playful sass.

Now, her gaze held a spark of curiosity, laced with unmistakable arousal like she was reassessing him, seeing not just the cocky flirt by her side, but a man who might actually back up every word he said.

Before that charged silence could snap, Luka's voice cut through the air from across the pool.

"Yo! You two coming? We're grabbing drinks!"

Isidora exhaled, pulling back just slightly, her fingers adjusting her bikini top though Stefan noted with satisfaction that she wasn't in any rush to cover herself properly. If anything, her movements seemed designed to remind him exactly what was spilling out of that stretched fabric.

"Yeah, coming!" she called back, her voice steady but with a faint huskiness betraying her lingering thoughts.

Before turning away, she cast Stefan a sideways glance, lips curling into a smirk that was equal parts challenge and invitation.

"You gonna keep talking big..." she purred, eyes flicking down his body for just a second, "or can you actually prove it sometime?"

Stefan's grin was slow and deliberate pure sin, carved across his face.

"Stick around," he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. "You'll find out."

They rose together, bodies brushing in ways that felt anything but accidental. Every touch, every shared glance was heavier now charged with the kind of tension that didn't fade... it only built.

As they walked toward the group, Stefan's mind was already racing not with if, but how he was going to turn that playful jab into something far more physical. His gaze lingered on the sway of Isidora's hips, the faint red marks on her skin from sun and water, and the way her damp bikini clung to every curve like it was begging to be peeled off.

And when she glanced over her shoulder teeth sinking into her bottom lip, eyes gleaming with mischief Stefan knew exactly what that look meant.

She wasn't just teasing.

She was waiting.

And he had every intention of giving her what she wanted... and more.

The sun dipped lower, stretching long shadows across 25. Maj, but the heat between Stefan and Isidora didn't fade it only thickened, settling over them like a second skin.

The group had drifted toward a shaded patch of grass near the pool's edge. Some sprawled out on towels, half-dozing from too much sun and cheap beer, while a few die-hards attempted to revive a sluggish game of volleyball. The air buzzed with that lazy, late-afternoon energy perfect camouflage for two people who had very different plans.

Stefan lounged against the rough bark of a tree, a cold can sweating in his hand, but his focus wasn't on the game or anything else, for that matter.

His eyes were locked on her.

Isidora sat across the group with Jelena and one of the guys, head thrown back in laughter at some joke he couldn't hear. But Stefan wasn't listening anyway. He was watching the way her damp hair clung to her shoulders, the way her bikini hugged every soft curve like a lover refusing to let go.

And every so often just enough to drive him crazy her gaze flicked toward him. Quick. Subtle. But heavy with meaning.

It wasn't teasing anymore.

It was a summons.

Their earlier exchange replayed in his mind her playful challenge, the flicker of insecurity she tried to mask, and the way her eyes had darkened when he promised he didn't shy away from women built like her. If anything, he craved it.

So when she caught him staring this time, Stefan didn't bother looking away. He let his gaze drag down her body slow, deliberate taking in the soft swell of her belly, the faint stretch marks peeking beneath her bikini, the plush spread of her thighs that practically begged to be parted.

When his eyes met hers again, Isidora's response was immediate.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip, a spark of wickedness flashing across her face.

That was the green light.

With a casual grace that fooled no one least of all Stefan she rose to her feet, brushing imaginary sand from her hips, fingers lingering just a little too long on the curve of her ass. The deliberate sway of her hips as she sauntered toward the changing booths at the back of the complex was nothing short of a provocation.

Stefan let the moment breathe, waiting just long enough to keep things cool before pushing off the tree, stretching like he had all the time in the world even as his pulse pounded with anticipation.

"Where you off to?" Vanja called out, lazily tossing a volleyball into the air.

Stefan smirked, already backing away, his eyes following the trail Isidora had left.

"She needed a hand with something," he tossed back, punctuating it with a wink and a casual jerk of his thumb toward the booths.

A few knowing chuckles rippled through the group, but no one gave it real attention. The perfect cover.

Stefan turned, his relaxed stride masking the hunger simmering beneath the surface.

Because he knew exactly what Isidora needed a hand with.

And he was about to give her both.

By the time Stefan reached the row of weathered wooden changing booths, his pulse was hammering not from nerves, but from that addictive rush of adrenaline. The thrill of getting caught, the heavy weight of anticipation, and the image seared into his mind Isidora's thick curves, pressed up against these narrow, splintered walls.

A soft click drew his attention. One of the doors cracked open just enough for a single eye to peek through mischief gleaming in that dark gaze.

"Took you long enough," she whispered, her voice a sultry tease before her hand shot out, wrapping around his wrist and yanking him inside.

The door shut behind them with a dull thud, sealing them off from the world. Instantly, the air shifted thick, humid, stifling with the scent of chlorine, sweat, and something far more primal already brewing between them.

The booth was cramped, forcing their bodies dangerously close skin to skin, breath mingling in the suffocating heat. Stefan could feel the faint tremble of restraint vibrating between them, both teetering on the edge of something they couldn't take back.

For a heartbeat, they just stared no more words, no more games. Just two people fully aware they were about to cross a line they'd been dancing around all afternoon.