Teen Swimmin Dream

Katrina's arms splashed as she pulled her way through the pool, leading the other swimmers. Her head came up every three strokes, and she drew quick, deep breaths. As she reached the end of the lane, she flipped underwater, pushing against the cold tile to make her way back to the other side. Each of these motions, completed thousands of times, were automatic, polished to precision. She was something more than a machine, more than a natural. On a good day, when everything felt just right, she rode the water, called it, harnessed it,

mastered

it. Today felt like a good day. Maybe, just this once, it would be enough.

As she made her final strokes in the water, adrenaline raged through her body and she surged forward. The water whooshed past her faster than she'd ever managed, like she'd start skimming over the water at any moment.

With a final stretch, her fingertips stabbed the tile and a buzzer sounded.

Had she? Finally?

She jerked her head above the water, already pealing away her foggy goggles. Heart racing, ears ringing with her own pulse and the echoing throb of the crowd, Katrina looked up at the scoreboard, at the winner's name.

It wasn't hers.

Her face fell as the parade of slower swimmers only now gasped out their last few meters. Katrina couldn't hear them because they didn't matter. Only the girl's name above hers mattered. Katrina, beaten once again by Andrea Key, fumed. Though their times were milliseconds apart, Katrina had never been first. Close second was second place all the same.

Her coach ran up to her platform, gibbering with hands held high above his head of unruly gray hair. Well, he looked happy at least. Katrina smiled at him, swallowing her pride, and leaned over to Andrea in the lane next door.

"Great race, as always, Andy."

Andrea glanced over and smiled, looking beautiful, even in her swim cap. "Back at you, Rina," she said sweetly. Then she looked away, leaning over to the girl in the lane on the other side of her.

It left Katrina leaning over the lane divider and feeling stupid. She wanted to scream. Whenever she complimented Andrea, it was never quite returned. Andrea just couldn't be bothered. With a grunt, Katrina hoisted herself out of the pool. Her coach wrapped a towel around her and went on rambling about the race, already plotting the next one.

She let him talk. It was the last race of the day, and Katrina's breaths were heavy, muscles already aching. She never held back in a race, and tended to suffer the consequences. Her swimsuit was starting to crawl up her butt and aggravation crept up behind it.

Katrina left her coach's chattering behind her at the locker room door. Having a male coach had its upside; they were easily ditched. She dried herself with the towel, tugged off her swim cap, and let her long, dirty blonde hair fall free to drip while she pulled sweats over her swimsuit. She dressed quickly. The tall, curvy, muscular body that might be a blessing in the water was nothing Katrina felt especially proud of on dry land.

"Medal ceremony in five minutes, girls!" one of the race supervisors chirped into the locker room.

Katrina slipped into her shoes and shook out her hair with the towel. She leaned her head back onto the lockers, and for the first time since climbing out of the pool, she just breathed. The air did wonders. The feel of the locker's cold metal against the back of her head soothed her too. Swimming was her life; there was hardly ever a moment to rest. It was all she ever thought about, all she ever did. The other girls in the locker room were chatting about boys and school, but Katrina sat thinking about her last finish. Second place again. Yet another silver medal like just about every other medal her mother hung in the living room. It was getting so she couldn't see their bright shine anymore, just the wretched gray beneath.

Andrea and one of her toadies breezed into the locker room. "I wish I could finish every race like you, Andrea. I think everyone wishes they could," the sidekick gushed.

Katrina nearly slammed her head back against the lockers. Did everyone have to suck up to little miss perfect? So she could swim a hair faster than most. Big deal. You'd think the girl was running across the water the way people fussed.

At the two-minute warning, Katrina dragged her stiffening body out to the pool again. Another race-supervisor ushered her onto the second-place step, next to Andrea. Katrina would have fit better on the first place step—she was nearly the same height as Andrea even when Andrea was propped up a foot higher.

Katrina smiled and waved, not exactly knowing to whom she waved—maybe the photographers, maybe her family if they had managed to pile all the kids in the car. Screw the waving and smiling, Katrina thought. She just wanted to hide under the podium and cry.

Once the award ceremony was over, Katrina raced back to the locker room and grabbed her bag. As she walked toward the back exit, she looked down to dig out her car keys.

She jumped when she crashed into a small, soft body. She looked up and began an apology, "I'm so sorr—" It was Andrea. And Andrea was stooped over, changing, the straps of her blue suit dangled off her shoulders, nearly exposing breasts too round, too smooth, to perfect to be real. Katrina's breath hitched and her tired legs wobbled; she braced herself against the lockers.

Andrea's startled eyes met hers, brown locks tumbling across her forehead. Andrea straightened up smoothly, hands frozen mid-undress. She looked loose, relaxed even, as if she hadn't just raced flat-out all morning. No, little Andrea Key glowed.

Katrina's jealousy bubbled up from her gut. It was momentary; that heat cooled when her gaze lingered at Andrea's chest. The tops of her small breasts were visible. They swelled pertly. Her nipples were hard underneath her swimsuit, thrusting their stiff peaks into the stretchy fabric.

If only I'd been a minute later. I might have seen—

Katrina shook her head to chase that thought away. The motion swung wet hair across her face, and she pushed herself off the lockers.

Why am I staring? I shouldn't be— What would happen if the other girls realized? They'd call me a lesbian, a dyke. They'd chase me from the locker room. But fuck!

Katrina eyes flitted up to Andrea's face and she braced for the curses and insults that teenage girls seemed to have in holsters.

Instead, Andrea smiled. "Meh, it's alright."

"Huh?"

It's alright?

Katrina mentally smacked herself. Of course Andrea wasn't talking about the alright-ness of Katrina staring at her breasts; she meant it was alright that Katrina blundered into her like a blind person.

Andrea shrugged and then, incredibly, reached down and resumed pushing her swimsuit down her body as if nothing had happened.

Before Katrina could gawk any more, she looked down at her own feet and scrambled away toward the exit, mumbling another, "Sorry" as she fled, face burning. That heat rushed to other places too, places it probably shouldn't have. In fact, in that brief contact Andrea had warmed Katrina's body like no one had before. Every part of her tightened, tingled, and hummed.

Katrina trotted to her car, legs wobbling and hands shaking. It took three tries to slide the key into the ignition. She sped home, embarrassed at her mishmash of feelings. She wanted to hate Andrea Key. Andrea won every race, snatched up every sponsorship and scholarship—she was spoiled. But it was hard to remember that when she was so perfect: perfect stroke, perfect body, perfect teeth, perfect hair—even fresh from of a latex swim cap. Now, worst of all, obnoxiously perfect boobs. Katrina groaned.

She gripped the steering wheel tighter. As she thought about seeing Andrea's tantalizing body in a swimsuit, her eyes glazed over. Andrea's breasts would be a little handful, and, looking back on it, she realized she'd felt an insane urge the moment she saw the tops of them peeking out of the suit: she wanted to reach out and feel them, touch the smooth, damp skin, the hard, puckered nipples. Katrina's mouth watered; she wanted to taste Andrea's flesh.

A car horn blared. She looked up and saw the streetlight was green and pushed on the gas pedal.

Get her out of your head, stupid,

Katrina told herself.

Pulling her car into the driveway, Katrina let out a breath that she had been holding the entire ride home. She grabbed her bag from the back seat and hurried through the November chill into the warmth of her home. The sun was setting on the seemingly endless afternoon.

Chaos met her at the front door. The twins fought over the videogame controller, noises from the game blaring out of the television; both her older brothers slept on separate couches, homework cluttering all of the coffee table's surface; her dad, reading the paper in his easy chair, held the new baby laughing in his arms; her mother wiped her hands on her apron, walking out of the kitchen. Her mother announced that dinner would be ready soon. The family males grunted their acknowledgement.

Once her mother saw Katrina standing by the front door, she called Katrina into the kitchen, excited to hear about the race.

So they didn't go,

Katrina lamented. She hadn't expected them to.

"How did it go?" her mom asked as she sat down at the round kitchen table. "Did you win?"

Katrina rolled her eyes. She had the medal hanging around her neck, so why was her mother even asking? "Second place, Mom. That's what silver means." She reached down to touch the cold medal, but her fingers didn't meet the necklace. Katrina quickly looked down, franticly feeling around her neck and under her zip-up jacket. "Oh, no," she said under her breath.

Her mother gave her a confused look.

The trill of the baby crying in the other room had her mom standing up and excusing herself. "I'm sorry, Rina. I'll be right back. You know how your father is with loud noises."

Before her mother could finish the sentence, her dad was calling for help, along with her older brothers grumbling at the interruption in their naps.

Katrina was left alone in the kitchen, wondering where her medal went. She remembered running into the locker room with it in her hand. She must have left it on the bench when she picked up her gear. Katrina huffed. Of course something like this would happen.

She leapt up the stairs and dropped her bag in her room. Katrina took hold of the car keys again.

Back down on the main floor, she told her mom, "I left my medal at the pool. I need to go back."

Her mom was rocking the baby. She nodded and she put her index finger to her pursed lips in a plea for quiet. Katrina nodded back and opened the front door, stepping into the chilly breeze.

The car rumbled to a start and brought Katrina back to the pool. Katrina walked through the front doors and smiled at the receptionist.

"Congratulations, Rina," the blonde woman offered politely.

It was a sweet sentiment that nonetheless made Katrina cringe inside. "Thank you. Is the locker room still open?"

"No," the blonde said. "Did you need something?"

"Yeah, I think I must have forgot my goggles." When the blonde's eyes darted over to the 'sale' rack on the other side of the lobby, indicating many other professional-grade goggles, Katrina amended, "My

lucky

goggles."

The blonde's polite smile thinned. "Well, I guess I'll open it for you." She pushed out of her chair and led the way to the back of the facility. "All you swimmers are so superstitious."

She opened the door and Katrina walked through it, saying her thanks.

The blonde nodded. "Just exit through the back. That door locks automatically. I'll lock this one behind you."

Katrina immediately went to her locker, but didn't find the medal there. She spent ten minutes searching the laundry hamper full of towels and other forgotten items left on benches and the floor. Nothing.

In desperation, she walked into the shower room and stopped dead in her tracks. Andrea was showering. She should have been long gone by now, but here she was, completely naked, her back turned, facing the water. She was humming something as she stroked beneath one arm.

Katrina wanted to walk back into the locker area, but her feet wouldn't listen. Her eyes were transfixed on Andrea's wet, naked body. Good Lord, she had beautiful skin, ivory and smooth. The view of her sleek ass was enough to make Katrina weak. She'd never laid eyes on anyone more beautiful. Her heart fluttered as she continued to stare.

The door to the shower room shut softly behind Katrina, barely audible above the pounding in her ears. The room was steamy from the hot water. Katrina was nearing a sweat.

Andrea pirouetted slowly on her toes, dancing to the beat she hummed. The water washed down her back, and she dipped her head back to let it rinse her hair. Her arms came up as she ran fingers through her hair. And there they were, her breasts, rising and falling as she breathed. They were just as incredible as they had been in Katrina's imagination, smooth, topped with rosy nipples still tight, even in the hot water cascading down around them. Her stomach was flat, with an inward curve at the waist. Her belly button was shallow and absolutely kissable.

Katrina gulped as she took in the enticing landing-strip cut into Andrea's pubic hair. She licked her lips, imagining that Andrea would taste like sweet honey... or would it be strawberries? Fireworks exploded in Katrina's stomach.

Andrea reached blindly for a bar of soap behind her. She found it and began to lather her body, rubbing the soap down her breasts and stomach. As she reached the juncture of her thighs, she let the soap fall to the floor. She spread her legs, and her hands skidded down between. She began touching herself.

Katrina, dizzied by the suddenly lewd act, stifled a gasp. It was definitely time to leave. And yet she stayed.

Andrea's fingers moved harder and faster, one hand spreading, the other gliding between her lips, slicking up and down, rubbing urgently. Her mouth formed a silent circle and her hips thrust up to meet her working hand. Then, finally, she released a deep, long moan, shuddering as rode out her self-served pleasure.

Katrina's mouth fell open and she let out a short, harsh breath, her chest collapsing.

Andrea opened her eyes suddenly, and dropped her hand. Only a few feet apart, they stood staring at one another. Andrea paled. "I, uh, thought everyone left," she said softly as she knelt to pick up the fallen soap. She looked mortified. Obviously, she'd hoped to keep what she'd been doing private.

For the second time in less than an hour, Katrina lowered her head and looked at her feet. "I didn't, I mean, I wasn't trying to," she stuttered. "My medal, um..."

Why can't I finish a frickin' thought?

"You forgot it," Andrea rescued her. She'd crossed her arms over her chest and cocked one knee across her front. It was an attempt at modesty that only made her look that much more adorable. "I put it in my locker so no one would take it. I'll get it for you when I'm done, if you want."

Andrea's eyebrows merged when Katrina only blinked in response. Her full, pink lips pursed. "Or did you need to borrow my soap?"

The strange offer made Katrina rock back on her heels. "Uh, no. I'm good. I'll just wait in the locker room." But as Katrina turned to flee, Andrea crossed the distance and grabbed her arm, turning her around again.

She was several inches shorter than Katrina and looked up into Katrina's eyes. Her mouth opened, splitting her overripe lips. With her arms away from her chest again, Katrina's eyes flew back to Andrea's pale breasts and their delicate sway with each of Andrea's motions.

Katrina's free hand tugged nervously at her loose, dirty-blonde ponytail. She longed to touch Andrea's beautiful nutmeg hair and, well, her anything, really.

God, look at, you. You're barely real. Real people don't look like this.

Andrea's lean, toned legs were still coated with lather, and whatever else, dripping from the apex. Katrina blinked and forced her eyes back up.

Katrina's interest must have been more apparent than she realized because Andrea stepped closer now, leaving only inches between them. Slowly, but without warning or permission, Andrea leaned in. She planted a short and sweet kiss onto Katrina's lips. Her tiny wet breasts pressed into Katrina's chest, still covered by an almost-dry swimsuit and jacket, soaking both. Eyes blue and earnest, she leaned in again, and pressed her lips harder onto Katrina's.

At this point Katrina was just trying to keep up as Andrea stepped closer and opened her mouth, her tongue eased across Katrina's lips, seeking entry.

This isn't real.

There was no way a girl like Andrea would kiss another girl, much less a tall, awkward one.

But Katrina opened her lips anyway, feeling the smaller girl's tongue sneak in and explore. Katrina expected to taste pool water, or anything other than the fruity nectar that washed in; Andrea's mouth was amazing.

Andrea pressed herself against Katrina further. Her arms wrapped around Katrina's neck, a leg twining around Katrina's. A moan, much like the one Andrea had let out earlier when she was touching herself, slipped into Katrina's mouth.

Oddly enough, that little moan helped, flipped a switch of some kind in Katrina's head.

She wants this, wants me. Andrea's into girls too!

She urged Andrea backwards until her back met with the shower wall. Andrea jerked when her skin hit the cold tile and she broke their kiss. The hot shower water cascaded over Katrina's fully clothed body. Katrina giggled and swept water from her eyes. The water drenched her hair and clothes, but she didn't care. She picked up Andrea's leg and pushed harder into the wall, holding her up. Their lips merged again, harder, hungrier. Katrina began to kiss Andrea back with all her might.

The excitement and adrenaline from the swim meet was nothing compared to the feel of Andrea's hot body pressed against hers. Katrina could hardly breathe, but she didn't care. She loved rubbing her hands over Andrea's smooth skin, feeling the heat of the water pound against her head, kissing Andrea's soft pink lips.

Feeling secure in Katrina's arms, Andrea brought her own arms from around Katrina's neck to zip down the jacket. As soon as the jacket revealed Katrina's shoulders, sliding down to pool around her elbows, Andrea nearly ripped her swimsuit straps down, dragging them off to meet the jacket.

Katrina felt the cool air and warm water meet her breasts at the same time. Suddenly reality struck her. She wouldn't compare to the beautiful first-placer. This was a game: get the goofy girl naked and have a good laugh.

Katrina released Andrea and jerked up her swimsuit.

Nearly running out of the shower room, Katrina dropped her jacket, slid out of her shoes, and lost her balance. She slipped and fell onto the hard, wet ground, only barely breaking the fall with her hands.

Andrea hurried over. "You okay, Rina?" she asked as her hand came to rest on Katrina's shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that. We don't have to do anything. I just thought, well, I've seen the way you look at me sometimes and..." Andrea trailed off.

Katrina's face burned. She didn't want to look at Andrea or explain why she ran. "I'm okay," Katrina mumbled, turning over and trying to get up. She managed to get her feet under her before she saw Andrea's naked form crouched so close. Then she fell straight on her butt again. Katrina was not okay. Her knees and butt hurt, she was probably redder than a tomato, and to top it off, she was hornier than she'd ever been in her life. And she felt like throwing up.

"Just sit still, a minute, huh?" Andrea said with a smile. "Maybe you should consider taking off some of these wet clothes. Can you even breathe in there?"