Oakmont had spent $14,000,000 to expand its municipal water park, now renamed "Water Nation." The Husseys from Riverdale, about seven miles away, didn't mind paying the extra money for a family pass. Thirty something, very generously endowed, Joyce Hussey lay with her husband Fred in side by side pool chairs as their two young children splashed with other youngsters in the wading pool. "I guess the Riverdale mayor won't have that kind of money for any pool upgrade," she said, sharing his amazement that Oakmont spent that much. "This place is huge," he agreed, "Riverdale only has two small pools." They laughed about the wrong choice of town; they should have bought in Oakmont when he was transferred from Atlanta.
The radiant noon sun was toasty. Mrs. Hussey applied more sun block to her shoulders and arms. "Not sure I like Water Nation," she griped. "No one's friendly. It's really crowded and noisy."
They people watched. She hid behind her shades and studied the builds of lifeguards, college-aged guys on summer break, and even the beefy high schoolers. She picked out one or two that she assigned as raw materials for daydreams, her habit since they wed. As time passed they lasted longer -----wicked little what-ifs. They hung around to get her to climax during her steadily diminishing love-making with Fred.
She snuck in flirtatious moments with attractive young men that she encountered. Like chatting in the basement with the well-built guy in his twenties who checked the furnace a few weeks in their new home. And small talk with the fit, wide-eyed stock-boy at the supermarket. They responded to her remarkably curvaceous physique, and she played these moments back when in bed with her husband. She just had to have male attention. Her fantasies increasingly went directly from passionate stares to wicked physical intimacy.
Joyce now had to use a water park bathroom, but wasn't a fan of the locker room. She wanted privacy, away from other parents, teens screaming after spending hours on the water slides, and seniors showering after laps in the pool. She stood up, stretched, and cleaned her sunglasses..
Her white one-piece suit was tight on her voluptuous body. Breast feeding had ballooned her boobs, and they had kept enlarging. Her posterior was plump, wiggling for the slightest reason.
"Now I navigate my way through Water Nation," she muttered, walking away. "See you in an hour," Fred grinned.
The attractive blonde of medium height, with vivid green eyes, fine skin, and nicely curved legs, sauntered past the wading pool, then a full-sized one, and looked around to find an alternative restroom. Fred's eyes followed his wife and noticed how slowly she walked, as if to be seen.
She found herself stopping to ask a young, shirtless workman, who was in charge of a crew constructing a picnic area. After a few minutes of feasting her eyes on his muscles, she asked him sweetly if there was an alternative bathroom. She stood straight and ran her fingers through her hair. She felt the familiar glow of a man staring, x-rays through his sunglasses at her flesh. Then he said in a confident tone: "Go through that door," pointing to a two story building further away from her family, "and walk upstairs. There's a john there that nobody uses. It has a passcode lock on the door." He gave her the code. She thanked him.
She noticed how ripped he was, like how Fred used to be. Big brown eyes. Yum.
She turned toward him and pointed at the door as if to ask "this one?", posing in a profile that showed off her chest. He nodded, and did not stop looking at her body until she disappeared through the door. His iPhone had grabbed pictures and a video of her chest and her big ass.
Joyce entered into a hall and walked up stairs. Near the end of a short hall she found a room with two parts to it, the first a powder room about 10 feet by 20 feet. It had a sink at the far end and a large mirror to the right of the sink.
Around the corner in the other section of the room was a toilet at the end of a long, narrow space. The drywall was fresh. There were two grapefruit-sized round holes in the right wall near the toilet space, at waist level. The lighting was only half installed in the hallway and in the sink and toilet spaces it was dim. The whole room was very warm. But the silence and solitude were a treat and the rooms were clean. She wrote down the passcode.
When she came back outside the workman noticed her and muttered to his three helpers. The four boldly stared hard, as if they had been in prison for three years with pent-up desire. Eight male eyes leered at her breasts. Her curious eyes checked out these brawny workers. Her freckled cheeks dimpled. "Thanks again. So is that my private bathroom?" she smiled, tilting her head. "It can be," the tall one said flatly. Then he and the other young men kept on looking her over. "Kind of hot up there," she said, fanning her chest with her hand, as if to focus more male eyes on it. She had attracted enough attention to her body since college and knew when guys were drinking in the sight of her monster boobs and salivating. But these were spooky, openly gawking but not coming on to her like other guys. They were in control.
As she walked away, the tall one grabbed his iPhone, and took more videos and pictures of her unbelievable body. He smiled slightly and said "Let's make it open only to her."
Joyce sat down and rested her head on the chair, half listening to Fred chat about the block party coming up. She was moved by the sight of the young construction workers and the vibe she got from their stares. After a half hour Joyce and Fred collected up their young ones and drove home. On the way she said: "We should come back tomorrow. What a place, right kids?" They agreed.
"Really?" Fred said. "Before you were complaining about the unfriendly people and the loudness." After a pause she said: "But it does kind of grow on you."
