A continuation of my earlier stories, but the following story could also be read standalone.
If hotwifing or similar themes are not your thing stop now.
A few weeks ago, Sara decided it was time to take the plunge--literally.
She'd always wanted to feel more confident in the water, but there was always an excuse. Whether it was the kids' activities, work, or just life in general, the idea of swimming lessons always got pushed aside. Even when her kids would go to the pool, she'd usually just stand at the edge, watching them splash around, feeling a little left out.
But this time was different. One afternoon, as she watched her kids swim, she noticed Tom--the swim instructor. He was patient, professional, and had a way of making even the most nervous swimmers feel at ease. It wasn't long before Sara found herself asking if he offered adult classes.
To her surprise, he did! Every Sunday at 9 AM, there were beginner and intermediate lessons for adults. It was the perfect fit for Sara's schedule, so she signed up without hesitation.
Now, a little about Tom: he was in his mid-50s, a friendly, older guy with a calm demeanor. Teaching swimming was his side gig, but he was good at it. Every kid who passed through his classes had learned to swim like a pro. That gave Sara a sense of confidence--if Tom could turn kids into confident swimmers, he could do the same for her.
And Sara? At 42, she was still a sight to behold. Standing just 5'1" and weighing barely 100 pounds, she had a look that turned heads even as she aged. In fact, people often mistook her for being much younger, which only added to her quiet charm.
Sara had been attending her swimming lessons for a few weeks now, and every so often, she'd share updates with me. It was always the same--small victories, like getting the courage to jump into the water or meeting the other adults in her class. They were all around her age, just like her, and there was an unspoken camaraderie between them. But she didn't go into much detail about the conversations, so I didn't think much of it at the time.
One thing I did notice, though, was Sara's approach to her poolside wardrobe. She'd always kept it pretty modest--nothing flashy, just simple, classic pieces. Whether it was a one-piece or a two-piece, it was the kind of swimwear any mom might wear--functional and comfortable. She wasn't the type to flaunt anything, especially not in the way some women did with those cheeky bikini bottoms that seemed to be all the rage lately. That just wasn't her style.
The following was what she told me about when I got home from my latest business trip away. Remember, the rule is that when I'm away, she can play.
The Saturday before I left, I made sure to get everything in order for my trip overseas so I'd be fresh and ready for a busy Monday. We had been running around leading up to it, and with everything going on, we didn't get our usual "session" before I left. By the time Sunday rolled around, I could tell Sara was a bit more on edge than usual when it came time for her swimming lesson.
That Sunday, the pool was quieter than usual--only three regulars showed up for class. Alongside Sara, there was another mom, a chubbier Asian woman, and Steve, a white guy from Ireland. Steve was 5'8 and about the same age as Sara, and although his body had a bit of that "dad bod" starting to take shape, he still looked decently fit. Nothing that would make women stop and stare, but he wasn't hard on the eyes either.
Throughout the lesson, Steve and Sara chatted here and there while the instructor, Tom, worked with the other mom. Steve mentioned that he'd only been in the States for about a year, having moved here with his wife and two young kids. They'd always dreamed of living abroad for a while before eventually heading back to Ireland.
As the conversation went on, Steve casually mentioned that his wife and kids had gone back to Ireland for a few weeks to visit family, so he was flying solo for the time being. Sara, a little more relaxed, shared that I was away for the week as well, and the two of them connected over the shared experience of spouses being out of town.
That's when the conversation took a humorous turn. Steve, who seemed a bit out of his element without his wife around, confessed that he'd been living off microwave meals since they'd left. To Sara's shock, he even admitted he'd tried heating up dumplings in the microwave. Sara nearly laughed out loud, shaking her head. "That's sacrilegious!" she said, clearly appalled by his lack of culinary skills.
After class, the playful banter between Steve and Sara continued as they made their way out of the facility. Steve, with his usual relaxed charm, suddenly blurted, "Man, I really miss a good home-cooked meal. Any chance you could teach me how to use my oven?" His words were casual, but his tone was lighthearted. With no rush to head home and Steve's place just a three-minute walk away, it all felt harmless. They fell into easy conversation as they strolled in the direction of his house.
The chat flowed effortlessly, and Sara couldn't help but notice how laid-back and easygoing Steve was. Like many casual conversations between parents, the topic of kids naturally came up. "So, any chance you're planning for more?" Sara asked, her curiosity piqued.
Steve chuckled and shook his head. "No way. Two is definitely enough. I actually booked myself into the clinic the week after."
Sara laughed in response. "My husband did the same thing!" she replied, both of them chuckling over the shared experience.
When they arrived at Steve's house, he gave her a quick tour and showed her a few family photos. His wife was stunning, though on the fuller side--something Sara noticed with appreciation. "How often are you FaceTiming your family back home these days?" Sara asked, admiring the framed photos on the walls.
"Nearly every day," Steve said. "It's so easy now with technology, and the five-hour time difference makes it even better."
Sara smiled, nodding in understanding as they made their way to the kitchen. Steve rummaged through his freezer, looking for chicken schnitzel, while Sara took the opportunity to inspect the oven. "Let me show you how this works," she offered, and Steve grabbed a notepad, eager to learn. The air was comfortable, but every now and then, their eyes would meet--longer than usual--and Sara couldn't help but feel a flicker of something unspoken. She quickly brushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. She finished explaining how the oven worked, still aware of the tension, but choosing to ignore it.
Just then, Sara rubbed her eyes, feeling the sting of chlorine. "Ugh, my eyes are killing me. I usually just take a quick shower when I get home," she murmured, trying to ease the irritation.
Steve's face lit up with a quick realization. "Oh, I should've thought of that! I'm such a bad host." He hurried off, returning moments later with a towel. "Here you go. Take your time. We can try the schnitzel whenever you're ready!"
