When Melissa, a girl I'd met a few months ago through a colleague at my new job, invited me over for drinks one Friday night in the middle of the summer, she made me promise to bring a bathing suit.
"There's a pool on the roof of my apartment building," she said, grinning excitedly and flipping her wavy hair over her shoulder. "It's so much fun up there in the dark. We'll have it all to ourselves!"
I was happy to go; I'd only moved to the city a few months before and I needed all the friends I could get. Melissa was fun and pretty, and spending time with her put me in a good mood. In fact, I was nursing a bit of a schoolgirl crush on her.
I stepped out of a cab in front of her place at nine o'clock that evening. The oppressive heat of the day was finally retreating, and a warm breeze began to make the air more breathable than it had been in weeks. I was wearing an ankle-grazing chiffon skirt in seafoam green with a white tank top and strappy silver sandals, and the night air felt like heaven grazing my just-shaved legs as I walked toward the front door. From the moment I stepped into the wood-paneled lobby, I couldn't believe how posh Melissa's building was.
A doorman greeted me and pointed in the direction of an elevator lit by a glimmering crystal chandelier, which silently whisked me up to the 18th floor and deposited me in a hallway lined with Oriental rugs. Hmm, I thought. This is awfully nice for a 26-year-old entry-level advertising exec…looks like Miss Mel might be hiding a trust fund somewhere.
The massive oak door to her apartment flew open before I could raise my hand to the brass knocker, and there was Melissa, smiling and chattering and pulling me inside. She looked exotic and gorgeous, as usual, in white bikini with a flowing pink sarong slung loosely around her hips, her long hair framing her glowing, flawless face with shiny ringlets that hung halfway down her tan back. After dropping little kisses on both of my cheeks, she handed me a tropical-looking drink topped by a cherry and an umbrella.
"Surprise! It's Hawaiian night!" she said. I laughed—I couldn't help feeling giddy around her—and raised my glass. "To new friends," I said, taking a gulp of something fruity and strong.
"And I must mention," Melissa said, stepping back and looking me up and down, her eyes full of mischief. "You are quite the tasty little treat tonight…dress up for me, darling?" She giggled, flirting with me in the way girls do with their friends. I blushed, hoping she wouldn't notice I'd just glanced at her breasts. Her nipples were poking visibly against the thin triangles of spandex that covered them, and I was trying my best not to gawk.
"Oh, please," I snorted. "I could never compete with this!" I waved my hand toward her tiny waist and her long, toned legs.
"I don't know, Sarah," she replied. "Maybe we should hit the town tonight after all—I mean, two girls like ourselves, a striking brunette and a sexy, leggy blond? Face it, we're a team no man can resist."
"Forget those losers," I said, rolling my eyes. "I've been looking forward to swimming all day."
"In that case, get your suit on and we'll go up whenever you're ready." Melissa pointed me toward a hall bathroom, where I changed into my orange flowered bikini with the bows at the hips. I ran my hand over my bare stomach, hoping it looked flat enough, and pulled at my bikini bottom a little, trying to stretch it to cover a little more of my—um, voluptuous—ass. I vamped into the mirror above the marble sink, batting my blue eyes and trying to work up the confidence to walk out. When I finally emerged, Melissa whistled and tossed me a towel.
"I'm calling 911," she teased. "You're gonna burn this building down!" She sashayed to the door and held it open for me, landing a light smack on my butt as I walked out in front of her.
The pool was even prettier than I'd imagined. It was dark on the roof, but the lights of the high-rises all around us cast a muted glow over the blue water. The wind blew my hair across my face, and I closed my eyes, pretending I was on a beach. Melissa unwrapped her sarong and bounded toward the water, barely breaking the surface as she showed off with a well-practiced dive. She came up laughing gleefully, and seeing me still standing there, grabbed the ladder and hauled herself back out. In the next instant, her wet arms were around me, and she was dragging me toward the edge of the pool.
I shrieked as she pulled me in, dunking me to make sure not one hair on my head stayed dry. "You bitch!" I yelled, splashing her and paddling toward the shallow end, where my feet could touch the bottom. But I was glad to be in the pool. The water was warm and silky, and utterly refreshing.
Melissa swam toward me, and soon we were both submerged only up to our waists, wading toward the edge to take sips from our waiting cocktails. Melissa opened her mouth to say something, then stopped. Her eyes widened.
"Don't look now, but a group of guys are watching us from that window across the street," she said. I waited a couple of seconds, then turned my head slightly in the direction she indicated. There were about six of them, middle-aged men drinking beers and elbowing each other, no doubt enjoying the show.
When I looked back at Melissa, she was smiling an evil little smile, and I could tell an idea was forming behind those deep brown eyes. "I think I'll give them something to talk about," she said. She turned around, her back to me, and leaned her head forward, pulling her dripping hair up off her neck. "Untie me," she instructed. I didn't even think about it; I reached out and pulled the string, and suddenly her top was floating in the water below us. Her breasts were exposed and pointing directly toward her audience. She shook her shoulders a little, and even from behind, I could see her tits swaying from side to side.
"You, too, Sarah," she said, advancing toward me. I was staring openly at her chest now. I couldn't help it…they were perfect. Her breasts were high and full; her nipples were a rich pinkish-brown, just slightly puckered at the tips. I tried to tell myself it was jealousy—not lust—that wouldn't let me look away. "Wanna touch?" Melissa whispered, seeing my expression.
