"That was a good game, too bad you LOST," I brag to my boyfriend Brad.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah I let you win...as I often have to do just to keep you happy and to keep the peace," he replies obviously peeved at the fact that his innocent little Debutante girlfriend had just kicked his ass in a game of co-ed singles tennis.
"Do you want to meet me in about an hour for lunch back at the club house, and then head over to Daddy's to see their new gazebo?" I ask.
"Sure, that's fine, I love you but I don't think I can marry a woman who can beat me in tennis, Tiffany," Brad whines to me.
"Yes you can, you love me, and you love it when I win because when I'm happy everyone's happy," I respond embracing him in a big hug and sweet kiss on the lips.
Brad and I had been dating for 3 years, since our junior year at Brown. We met at a college democrats meeting and I'd been there to support my father, who was running for state Senator. Brad had actually been there to meet me. He claims, after we'd started dating, that he'd seen me around campus campaigning and fell in love at first sight. I don't know if he so much fell in love, as fell in lust; however in our circles my "look" isn't that extraordinary. I have long, straight brunette hair, am about 5'6'' with soft curves, and pert C cup breasts. Brad was actually my first real relationship, most guys think I'm too "goody too shoes" since I'm a politicians daughter at an Ivy League school with a country club membership. But Brad understands that all those things don't define me, they're just things I happen to have.
"I can't wait to be Mrs. Bradley C. Emerson III, but right this second I can't wait for a shower! I'll see you in a bit, sweetie!" I yell as I head off to the women's locker room.
The locker room was fairly empty because it was after lunch and most women have left by this time to pick up their children from school, or get their nails done or what have you. There were three other women there besides me, two of which were dressed and on their way out and one I don't recall having seen before. She didn't look like most of the women of Pine Hills and something about her screamed "sex" and I caught myself staring at her unintentionally.
"Tiffany! Sweetie, we
must
get together and do lunch or something I haven't seen you since undergrad and now you're marrying that fabulous Emerson man I know you must be ecstatic!" chirps Melody, an old Brown classmate of mine.
"Oh yeah, definitely call me sometime Mel, I would love to get together for lunch and some catching up," I retorted. Knowing full well that this is just what women say even when they know they will never call, and never have lunch to catch up. "Mel, who is that girl over there, the blonde one with the white tennis skirt on, I haven't seen her here before," I ask.
"Oh, that's Herman Allowitz's daughter, she went to Wellesley remember? Oh what's her name...Reagan, that's it! Yeah she's back in town now, don't know if she graduated, but the story is that she really misses the Wellesley women if you know what I mean," Melody whispered to me very matter-of-factly.
My eyes fell back onto Reagan; I traced her long tanned legs up her thighs and under her tennis skirt. I imagined what she must smell like, her sweet sweat and how soft and silky her skin must be. I could feel a tingling in between my legs and I knew my face must be getting red.
"Well Mel, call me, I've got to get in the shower before Brad sends a search party for me. Speak with you soon!" I say exchanging air kisses with Melody before she waltzed out of the room along with the other girls who were now fully dressed and apparently with Melody. It was now just Reagan and I in the locker room. I snapped out of my daydream and started to undress to get in the shower. I was pulling my hair up into a pony tail when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Those are nice," I heard a soft buy breathy voice say as I whirled around to face who I knew must be Reagan.
"Ummm, what are? What are you talking about? I'm straight. I'm engaged see," I stammered holding up my left hand showing off my sparkling three carat white diamond Tiffany's solitaire.
"I was talking about your pearls. They're nice, where did you get them from," Reagan asked, obviously pretending to ignore the fact that I had just severely embarrassed myself by assuming she was coming on to me.
"Oh, my pearls! They were a gift. An um, graduation gift from my boyfriend, um my fiancé I mean. Yes, Bradley, that's his name. My fiancé I mean." I stutter, still nervous and not thinking clearly. She was standing so close to me wearing only a blue sports bra and her white tennis skirt. Her blond hair was pulled into a messy pony tail, and I could still smell the sun on her body. She wad intoxicating and I found myself closing my eyes in an effort to inhale her, saving the memory of her for later.
"Well they're nice," she said walking back over to her locker where she began undressing. First she pulled her bra up over her head and tossed it into her Polo bag. Then she let down her hair, it was perfectly cut, and blonde with strawberry blonde high lights. It came down a little past the nape of her neck. She then bent over to pull off her skirt. She was wearing a thong that was barely visible from the back, just the tiny white triangle above the split of her cheeks. Resting just above that triangle was a tiny tattoo of two cherries. The curve in her back was deep, and her legs went all the way up to her soft round ass. Her thighs barely touched, revealing her small tight pussy to me when she bent over to remove her thongs.
I knew I shouldn't be staring but I couldn't help myself, she was breath-taking. When she turned around to head towards the shower I immediately starting fumbling with my towel pretending I had been putting my clothes up the whole time. She glided past me to get in the shower.
"Come on Tiff, what are you doing? You've got to go; Brad's going to be waiting on you." I said to myself in an effort do divert my attention to showering, dressing and leaving to meet my future husband.
I step into the shower and hook my caddy onto the shower head, the steam rose in circles around me and I began lathering my hair apparently over my fantasy, and back into reality. That is until...
"Do you have anymore of that," Reagan asks pulling back the curtain on my shower staring at me naked. Her body was wet and dripping with water. I could see her front now and she had teardrop shaped breasts with small pink nipples that were hard, one of which was pierced. Her stomach was flat and toned and her hips were rounded but still showed off her magnificent hip bones which curved down to her pussy.
