Ch. 1
Tom stretched his legs, enjoying the morning sun from his perch on the lifeguard's chair at the municipal pool. It was good to be back from college for the summer. He'd had a good first year at State, made a lot of friends, dated a little, and now all he had to do for the next three months was soak up the sun and occasionally tell people to Walk-Don't-Run by the pool.
Lifeguarding had to be the best job ever invented.
Oh, he took it seriously, and wasn't worried about being able to handle an emergency. Shoot, he'd even used his first aid training at the Student Union when a girl sitting near him at dinner had discovered the hard way that she was allergic to peanuts. But in the two years that he'd been a lifeguard at this pool during high school, nothing had ever come up.
Well, no emergencies at least. His cock, however, was something else altogether. It was a good thing he'd never had to shift from his seat and rescue someone, or people would have seen exactly how much he enjoyed the number one perk of his job: nearly naked girls.
God bless the inventor of the bikini! There couldn't be a more perfect design. Thin scraps of fabric and flimsy straps covered just enough to kick his imagination into hyperdrive -- and that was when the thin scraps were dry. Wet? All bets were off. He'd seen tiny, red satin triangles that might as well have been pointers, screaming "this way to the nipple". A particular favorite were the skimpy bottoms that made it clear who had the smooth, shaved pussy and who left just a tiny bit of bush. All those pert, glistening-wet bodies would be draped across towels and deck chairs, sometimes for hours at a time, his to survey.
He almost hated getting off his shift.
But when the afternoon finally rolled around, he was ready. Slinging his towel over his shoulder, he went back to the staff locker room to grab his gear before heading out. As he passed a utility closet on the way, he stopped at the strange sounds coming from behind the door. Curious, he turned the handle.
Tom's eyes nearly popped out of his head. On her knees between the spread legs of some guy he didn't recognize was Amy, his friend Joe's little sister. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Amy had been about to do, given that her face was scant inches away from the guy's erect cock. However, any plans she may have had came to a screeching halt as a look of horrified recognition dawned in her eyes.
"Oh, God!" she squeaked.
"Amy? What the hell are you doing?" Tom demanded, glaring at both of them.
"Holy fuck," the guy swore under his breath.
Narrowing his eyes at the no-name jerkoff with his pants around his ankles, Tom warned in a low, menacing voice, "You have ten seconds to get your sleazy ass out of here before I beat it until it's as ugly as your face."
"Hey, back off, man! It was her idea," the guy snapped defensively.
"Ten...nine...eight..." Tom counted, staring him down.
Before Tom made it to three, the guy had done his pants up and beaten a hasty retreat, glowering as he went.
Getting rid of him had been the easy part.
The hard part was standing in the closet with her arms wrapped tightly around her, looking like she wanted to shrink down to the size of a mouse and hide. Tom just stood there looking at her for a few moments, saying nothing. Amy just looked at the floor.
When he finally found his voice, Tom muttered awkwardly, "Come on, I'll take you home."
"It's okay. I don't need a ride," Amy murmured shakily, her eyes still downcast.
"I think you do," Tom countered. "There's no way in hell you're staying here now, not after--"
"Just leave me alone!" Amy cut him off, finally snapping her head up to glare at him with tear-rimmed blue eyes.
When she tried to stomp past him, Tom shoved her back, stepped into the closet after her and pulled the door closed behind him. Beneath the dim light of a single light bulb, Amy glared up at him, her petite, athletic frame rigid with indignation.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded, eyes flashing angrily as she became the epitome of the fiery redhead.
"I asked you first," Tom shot back, meeting her fire with stern rebuke. He folded his arms across his chest and demanded, "Who was that guy?"
"I don't have to take this from you."
Once again, Amy made to move past him, but when she reached for the door, Tom grabbed her wrist in an unyielding grip. Ignoring her protests, he said, "You can tell me, or I'll share what I saw with Joe and then you can tell him."
Instantly, Amy's arm went limp and the fiery redhead was transformed back into the forlorn girl who looked like she wanted to become a mouse. Her gaze dropped back down to the floor.
When she didn't say anything, Tom prompted, "What's it going to be?"
"His name is Rick. I just met him today by the pool," Amy answered in a dull, flat voice.
The veins in Tom's forehead nearly popped. "Jesus Christ, Amy! You just met him and you were going to--"
"Yes! Okay?! It's my life!" Suddenly the fire returned as Amy yanked her arm vehemently out of Tom's grasp and backed as far away from him as the cramped closet would allow. "I turned eighteen six months ago -- I'm registered to vote, for Pete's sake! I'm old enough to do what I want!"
"Not on my watch," came Tom's equally vehement reply.
Amy's face contorted in fury, and for the life of him, Tom couldn't understand why, but his brain picked that moment to notice that in the year he'd been away at college, she'd shaped up pretty nicely. It wasn't just that her breasts had gotten a little fuller, softening the tomboy look she'd always had. It was the whole package: running on the cross-country team had toned her all over in a way that definitely worked. At least, his cock thought so.
