The Infinity Edge Pool

(This is a story about a f/f/f threesome between an older married lesbian couple and a young sapphic woman on vacation from her semi-open relationship back home. The young woman is the same character from "Under Everyday Clothes," but this is a standalone adventure and not part of a continuous narrative. Contains fingering, spanking, and extended teasing with some very light dom/sub dynamics. All characters are consenting and over 18. For the reading pleasure of interested adults only.)

***

"Well," said Vianne, slapping her palms against her muscular thighs in that definitive way that I'd been dreading. "We've got an early morning ahead of us."

"Of course, of course," said Debbie, one of the two older American women resting at the near edge of the pool, with a margarita perched on the tile rim between her hands.

Debbie's wife, Diane, nodded beside her and reached up to my deck chair to squeeze my hand, and run her thumb along my wrist the way she liked to do. "It's been such fun."

It

had

been fun, this whole holiday, more fun than I'd been expecting. The beaches, the drinks, the swimming pools designed for relaxation instead of cutthroat competition — it was all enough to make spending a week with my swim mates downright enjoyable.

Not that we hadn't found ways of casually slipping competition into our relaxation. I

would

have won the breath-holding contest if that one lifeguard hadn't interrupted.

But the best part of the trip by far had been getting to know Debbie and Diane. There was no contest to that.

For seven days, I'd been taking every chance I got to listen to their stories, which seemed to be bottomless and got racier the longer we'd been drinking. And I'd been sharing what few comparable stories I had myself, of my adventures with men and women and occasionally both at once. These were stories I'd never expected to share with anyone who hadn't been part of them, but in the company of these two awe-inspiring sexual veterans of the world, anything I had ever done felt far too tame to be a secret.

Debbie and Diane never

tried

to make me feel that way. They gasped and clapped and cackled at every detail, making me feel like a legend on their level. They were clearly giving me bonus points for my age. Diane called me "precocious" at one point, and Debbie had made a running joke of looking scandalized whenever anyone served me alcohol, even though we all knew that you had to be an adult to stay at the Cosas Salvajes Resort in the first place.

These two women already felt like some of the best friends I'd ever had. And now it was ending.

Tonight was my last night in the Canaries. Tomorrow morning, my swimming friends and rivals and I would be rushing through one last round of empanadas from the all-inclusive breakfast buffet while we double-checked every bag for the flight back to Ireland.

That wasn't a completely dismal thought. I did miss home. I missed Conner, my boyfriend, especially, and I was looking forward to hearing about everything he'd done during his "hall pass" week without me. But I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more I needed to do here, something to make this week

real

, not an illusion that would dissolve as soon as I was no longer surrounded by warm, white sand.

"You know, I think I'll stay a little later," I told Vianne.

"'Attagirl!" Debbie whooped, while Diane clapped her hands excitedly together.

Vianne raised an eyebrow, and a few of the others did the same, while continuing to gather their things. She surveyed Debbie, Diane, myself, and our drinks, and I could practically watch the gears of threat assessment turn in her head. If Debbie and Diane had been men, Vianne probably wouldn't have agreed to leave me there, but as it was, she just sighed heavily and said, "Don't make us look for you in the morning, okay?"

I made my promises, swung my legs over the side of the lounge chair, and slipped into the clear, blue water between the two older women.

Debbie caught me around the hips, unnecessarily, on the way down, and Diane held my hand, even more unnecessarily, while Debbie set me on my feet on the smooth tile pool bottom. The water reached just high enough to lap over the low neckline of my one-piece bathing suit.

"I hope you're not waiting until we're ready to part with you," Diane said in her smooth sweet voice, watching my friends leave over my shoulder. "Because we'll keep you here all night."

"All night?" Debbie laughed in her deeper, booming chest tones. "We'll keep you until you forget you don't live here."

"Consider me warned," I said, reaching under the chair I'd just come from for my mojito, and taking a sip.

Diane put her arm around Debbie and turned to look out toward the horizon. The pool had one of those "infinity" edges, where the water endlessly spilled over one low glass wall, giving the illusion that the pool continued right out to the ocean. It was all the more beautiful and unbroken now that we were the only bathers left.

"What would it be like to have a view like that in your life every day?" Diane sighed.

At that, Debbie turned her around and kissed her. It wasn't a quick peck. It was the kind of deep, intimate, unreserved kiss that was first exciting to watch, heightening my tipsy full-body tingles, and then mildly awkward, as the soberer side of my mind wondered if I was supposed to look away.

Just when I was beginning to wonder if I'd totally misread the tenor of their friendliness and should make a polite exit after all, they broke apart, and Debbie reached out toward me.

"Have you ever made out in a place like this, Siobhan?" she asked.

"A pool, yes, all the time," I answered. "But a place like

this

, no, never."

"Would you like to?"

"I was really hoping you were going to ask that," I admitted, wading over to the couple.

Debbie took my hand and placed it in Diane's.

With the closest thing to shyness I imagined either of them to be capable of, Diane tugged me closer and placed one hand at the small of my back, the other under my chin.

She was the smaller of the pair, an inch or two shorter than me, and still with a strikingly athletic frame under her weathered skin. I liked to imagine that I'd be in that kind of shape when I reached my fifties, and that I'd be showing it off in barely-there bikinis the way Diane did.

Her long, reddish-brown hair hung down in two ribbons over her small chest, nearly covering the top of that bikini, and making her look like a naked vision of some ageless nature spirit.

She leaned in slowly, more slowly than I had patience for, and I met her sooner than the middle. Her lips were slightly windburned and tasted of orange and honey rum, and the gentle contact instantly made me feel twice as drunk as before.

"Is it okay if I touch you?" Debbie asked from behind me.

"Anywhere you like," I confirmed, just barely removing my lips from her wife's for long enough to make the words heard.

"Promise to tell me if I make you uncomfortable?"

"Promise," I mumbled into Diane's mouth.

Debbie's softer, broader body pressed in behind me, as her strong, confident hands began to caress my shoulders, working their way methodically down to encircle my waist, and then toy with the edges of my swimsuit. She tugged on the leg elastics and let them snap down against my ass, the impacts slightly blunted by the water.

"I wish I could say I missed having a body like yours," she said, "but the truth is, I was never much for athletics, even before my joints went to hell. I would have been as jealous of you at your age as I am now. More, actually, since that was before I discovered the joys of not giving a fuck."

"It's hot on you," I said, dragging myself away from Diane's lips once more, and spreading my attention across her jaw and down her neck. "Not giving a fuck."

That was the first thing I'd noticed about Debbie, in fact. She had gotten up on the karaoke stage in a bright red sequined dress that was slitted to above her generous hips, and sung a song I didn't know, definitely from before my time, which involved a shameless, riotous, downright hypnotic amount of gyration.

"I highly recommend it," said Debbie.

"

I

highly recommend

this

," said Diane, pointing animatedly at me as I sucked a trail of light, short-lasting hickeys along her collarbone.

"Enough to share?" asked Debbie.

I took the hint and twisted around between them, bringing my lips to Debbie's. She wore a pink lip balm that tasted of cocoa and coconut, and her shorter, pixie-cut hair was perfect for running fingers through, even here in the tangle-inducing water. Her softer skin was harder to adorn with affectionate marks, so when I worked my way down her body, I just embraced burying my face in softness, burrowing my way between her large breasts to kiss her sternum.

Diane took over groping me from behind, though that word fit her actions in only the technical sense. Her touch felt like a friend and mentor's encouraging pat on the back, only not limited to my back. Her hands brought that same energy with them as they explored the shape of my ass, and then made their way around between me and Debbie, to cup my breasts.

Apparently content with her turn, Debbie spun me back around, and for a moment in the transition, there were no hands on me in any place more intimate than my shoulders. Wanting to continue the sensation of contact, I brought my own hands to my breasts, squeezed a little more vigorously than Diane had, and then wandered one hand down between my legs, stroking at the intoxicated warmth there, which defied the water to cool it.

Debbie dropped her jaw in the same kind of mock-shock she used for watching me drink.

"What?" I asked. "Never seen someone else masturbate to you two before?"

Debbie put a hand over her wide mouth, which shifted into a smile. "Well, certainly not a pretty, fresh-faced ingenue like you," she said. "Not in a while, at least."

"That's hard to believe," I said.

Debbie and Diane affectionately swatted and shoved each other, giggling and whispering under their breath.

"Not to turn down a luscious compliment," said Diane, looking pointedly down at my working hand, "but if there's one thing you younger people

especially

struggle with, it's being in such a rush all the time."

"Stop me, then," I said.

Debbie's jaw dropped open again, authentically this time, and she and Diane shared another round of giggling shoves.

"Would you like that?" Diane asked, stepping a little closer.

"Christ, yes," I said. "I haven't had a good pushing around since I've been here."

"You have no idea what a treat this is," said Diane, placing her hands on my wrists.

She held my left hand in place by my side and tugged on my right one.

I intended to give her a bit of a fight, but the mature, reassuring, almost instructive way she shushed me while she took my fingers away from my pussy disarmed me of any argument.

While Diane folded both my hands behind my back, Debbie swooped in and wrapped her arms around my legs, just under the hips, the way she had caught me on my way into the pool. Reversing that motion, she lifted me up out of the water and carried me back to the edge, at just the right height to bend over it.

"You have some experience getting spanked, don't you?" asked Debbie, running her hand over my ass, palming the elastic of the swimsuit.

I racked my brain for what specific story I'd told them where this came up, but it didn't matter, the answer was the same.

"I do."

"I think you could use a good spanking right now," Debbie suggested.

"It might help you slow down," added Diane, stroking the other side of my ass.

"Oh, I wouldn't count on that," I warned them playfully. "But go on and try."

There was another couple-y giggle behind me, and then a measured but respectable slap on my left cheek, the one on Debbie's side. A lighter one followed on the right from Diane.

"Is that how you spank in your household?" I teased them. "I thought

I

was the novice here."

Giggles turned to cackles, and a volley of harder, stinging, resounding smacks rained down on me, each one making me more and more certain that I would not be getting any sleep before the flight in the morning. Even if I did make it back to the room, I had never felt more awake and energized.

It was a unique experience, being spanked by two people at once, one I realized I'd never had before, even in my more crowded adventures. The rhythm was nearly non-existent, entirely unpredictable, even compared with the blows of a single person who was

trying

to be unpredictable.

One moment I was being smacked hard on both sides at once, just slightly out of sync. The next, I was getting alternating smacks and pinches on the right, and elastic snaps on the left, each of which sent a cool mist of water up into the breeze. There was simply no way to brace for this kind of attention, except to open up to anything and everything.

I loved that openness, and it was one of those feelings I could never achieve alone.

"How did you get so tough, honey?" Diane asked, in one of her gentler pinching phases.

"Oh, I don't know," I said, trying to sound cool and casual instead of high on the compliment. "Thrill seeking, I guess. Every new thing you try makes everything else feel a little bit easier."

"Ain't that the truth," Debbie agreed, giving me an extra hard slap, a little farther down. Half her hand stung the bare strip of flesh where my ass met my thigh, while the other half skimmed the surface of the pool and splashed water across my back.

"You must be getting chilly up there, though," said Diane. Her slaps had given way almost entirely now to soft, affectionate strokes of my reddened skin.

"No offense," I said, "but there's no such thing as 'chilly' this close to the equator."

"You'd know," said Debbie, cupping a double-handful of water and sprinkling it deliberately over the back of my neck. "For us, this is right about the same latitude as home."

She leaned forward and blew on the extra wet spot she'd made. Diane joined in, sweeping her breath all the way down my back and particularly targeting the seat of my damp bathing suit, sending a draft right between my still glowing cheeks.

"But even a northerly island girl like you has to admit," Diane whispered, bringing the movement of her breath up closer to my ear, "it would feel pretty good right now, to get this pretty torso back in the water and out of the air."

I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy yearning desperately for something so close, so possible.

"Yeah, it would."

"Are you going to follow our lead and go slow?" Debbie asked, in the most naturally teasing, faux-condescending voice.

"Yes," I played my part meekly. "You set the pace. Play with me however you want."

"I don't know about you," Diane whispered to Debbie, "but I feel like I could get lost in these legs for hours."

She ran her hand down my hips to admire the definition of my thighs.

"Help me over to a shallow spot, and I'll give you something to get lost in," I proposed.

"So naughty," Debbie laughed, giving me one last smack, but then she reached under my waist and hoisted me back down into the water.

I shivered pleasantly as it enveloped me.

We waded over to the pool's shallowest edge, the one lined with a long, underwater tile bench.

My heart fluttered a bit at what I was about to do, how I was going to make myself so much more vulnerable than just bending over. Comfortable as I was in the water, I knew how quickly and easily serious accidents could happen. I really needed to be able to trust these two.

I did, though. I couldn't help trusting them.

I took in a deep breath, ducked my head under the water, settled my hands on the smooth tile floor, and kicked my way up into a handstand.

The water rose just barely as high as my hips in this position, and the slight turbulence from our movement made little waves lap up and down over my pussy and the thin strip of fabric on top of it.

I pointed my toes and stretched my legs apart in what I hoped was a smooth, graceful motion. If there were a dozen or so of me, we could have formed a hypnotic synchronized forest of naked limbs.

Debbie and Diane instantly accepted my implied invitation. Each of them took one leg in her hands and stroked it with a reverence I could feel through my skin, even though I couldn't hear from under the water what commentary they might be sharing between themselves.

A lot of time and attention went to my calves, and I was already beginning to feel the floaty, disorienting haze of low-oxygen blood rushing to my head as those hands made their way up my inner thighs, but I would not have interrupted them for the world when their fingers began to brush, and then slip

under

, the crotch of my swimsuit.

The need for air accelerated with my pulse, and I was equal parts disappointed and relieved when Debbie adjusted the swimsuit back into place after only a few light touches and put her hands around my ankles, guiding them firmly back down to the floor.

I allowed my upper body to surface and grinned at them both while I got my footing and gasped for breath.

Diane jumped right in to kiss me, avoiding my mouth while I was still panting, but using her lips to caress my cheeks, my ears, and my neck, before reaching my left breast. She pulled the top of my swimsuit aside, and Debbie did the same on the other side so readily that I wondered if they'd coordinated this while my head was underwater.

It was a thoroughly pleasant surprise, finding myself suddenly with a different mouth on each nipple. Diane sucked the left one with startling force, while Debbie worked her tongue methodically around the right, again giving my body too many different signals at once to prepare for. I let my feet leave the ground again, and floated up onto my back to offer more comfortable access.

And if this position also put my pussy within easy reach for them again, so much the better.

"Are you getting antsy again?" Diane asked sympathetically, lifting her face from my breast and catching on to my hint. She brushed her fingers lightly over the outside of that thin strip of fabric.

I nodded, unsure if I was hoping more for mercy, or for another round of them tossing me over the side of the pool and trying hopelessly to spank the antsiness out of me.

"Oh, babe, I want to touch her," Diane said to Debbie, wringing her hands together, as if she were asking for encouragement to order some especially decadent dessert.

"Well, she's right there waiting for you," Debbie egged her on.

Diane clapped her hands together and peeled my swimsuit to one side, like the wrapper on a delicate confection.

She stroked me gently, rubbing the hood of my clit back and forth just a few times, prompting isolated sparks of pleasure, before tracing the edges of my labia and finding her way inside. She started with just her middle finger, wiggling it upward against my G-region.

I took in a breath as my pelvic muscles clenched around her. My clit twitched, looking for more of the touch it had just experienced, but it made contact with nothing but the gently lapping water.

"You can't actually finish this way, can you, doll?" Debbie asked, placing her hands on either side of Diane's, forming a diamond-shaped border around my pussy.

My clit remained untouched, and the pressure from Debbie's hands transferred to it only distantly. The sensation was pleasant but not enough to give me any progress, just like the pressure of Diane's finger inside me.

"Not a chance," I answered.

"Good," Debbie teased, pulling her hands away. "Makes it easier for me to keep you on a schedule. Like on a road trip."