Laughter In The Lagoon

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, the temperature well over ninety degrees and the air so muggy you had to fight your way through it. My golden retriever didn't even want to take a walk, that's how hot it was.

Just to chill off I put my bikini and a cover up on, walked over to the swimming pool in my apartment complex, and dipped myself into the tepid water. I spied one man doing laps back and forth, and when he stopped a few feet from me, panting a little, I asked, "Trying out for the Olympics?" When I got out of the water and parked myself on a lounge, I wasn't surprised when he sat a couple of chairs away and said, "Sure is hot, isn't it?" and I replied...

Wait! To understand this story, we have to go back a ways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I broke my first marriage, back in my early thirties, when I had an affair. It started out just casual, but after a few months I started to fall a little harder for Randy. He was a generous man, very calm, quite loving. I wouldn't call him the *exact* opposite of my then husband, but they were worlds apart in temperament.

When my husband finally figured it out, of course there was hell to pay. I offered to break it off (I'd always felt a little guilty,) but Jeff wasn't having any of it. To him, I was just a whore. (I'm almost positive he had some one-nighters when he was out of town, but I didn't have any proof.) We scheduled counseling, but Jeff wouldn't show up. Since we didn't have any kids, it was pretty easy to just sign the divorce papers and move on.

Randy and I stopped seeing each other while the drama was going down, although we talked or texted regularly. He didn't want to get in the way of a possible reconciliation. But when Jeff moved out, Randy came over to what was now my place, and we had a wonderful night, the first one where he didn't have to leave.

If you had asked me right then if I was in love with Randy, I would have told you 'yes' without even thinking about it. But my girlfriends and family told me to be careful, I was on the rebound and I might feel differently after a few months passed.

I never completely stopped dating Randy, we'd get together every couple of weeks for a night out, and usually a morning in. On the advice of friends I saw other guys, too. And, yeah, sometimes they'd stay overnight at my place, or I'd do the walk of shame. Randy knew about the other guys, and that sex was a part of it. We talked the situation over, I didn't want to hurt him, but he said he understood, and I should do whatever I had to. I'm sure Randy dated a few other women, but he told me they didn't mean anything to him.

Bottom line, a year and a half went by, and I invited Randy to Thanksgiving, and my sister told me she could see the love in my eyes, I should do something about it. So Randy and I got a larger apartment, moved in together, and tied the knot a couple years later.

It had been seven wonderful years - no, really! We never fought, tension in our marriage was so low it was ridiculous. If there was any trouble, it was the way I spoke to people. I like to make people smile or laugh. For example, if I see somebody with a serious look, I might say, "Oh, pretend you're having a good time." Or if I'm walking Squire and somebody is packing up their car, I'll ask them if they're running away from home. Anything to get a response out of them. The problem is that guys sometimes think I'm flirting with them.

My habit drove my first husband nuts! He'd get all jealous and go off on me, starting a skirmish. Randy never seemed to mind it. I'd met him when we were at one of those functions and he had something with a cherry in it. I told him, "Isn't that an awfully girly drink for such a strong man?" So when I did it with other guys and Randy was around, he'd laugh, particularly if the guy got flustered or tried to flirt with me.

There was this one New Year's Eve a year ago. It was at somebody's house, sixty people crammed into this place, the booze flowing. I had just a little buzz on at Midnight, and after I kissed Randy, well, there were a few other guys who wanted taste my lipstick. For some reason I went off into the den, and this handsome guy followed me in. I spun the globe and told him, "Quick, tell me where Fantasyland is!" That got a laugh, and when he pointed to someplace that was colored blue, our hands touched, and he said I hadn't kissed him for New Year's yet, and I said no time like the present, and then he pushed me up against the desk and well, we were kissing. I knew his hand was on my ass but I didn't particularly care, and just then Randy walked in. He took one look at what the guy and I were doing, said, "Oh, excuse me!" and walked out.

The guy, of course, wanted to keep kissing (and such,) but Randy catching me sobered me up real quick, so I pushed the man away and found Randy in the kitchen. "Honey," I said, "It wasn't what you think."

And my wonderful husband turned to me, gave me a hug and then kissed me, and said, "I'm not thinking anything. It's New Year's Eve. Don't worry about it." We stayed for another half hour or so.

In the car I tried to bring it up again, and Randy just shushed me. "Not a problem, dear."

Of course it was a problem, at least for me. I really didn't want Randy to think I was cheating on him. It ate at me, and maybe a week later, when we were watching something on TV I started. "Honey, about New Year's Eve." Randy just looked at me, so I went on. "I was buzzed, I had too much to drink. And he just followed me into the den, and well, he kissed me. That's all."

Randy's voice was calm and gentle. "It looked to me like you were kissing him back."

I ducked my head. "I guess I was."

"And you feel guilty about it." I nodded my head. "Why? You didn't sleep with him, did you? All you did was kiss."

"Yes, exactly."

Randy was prepared. "Let me ask you a question. If you were in the same situation, but you weren't married to me, would you have slept with him that night?"

He knew enough of my patterns when I was divorced that the behavior was exactly like what he'd known about. "I guess so," I admitted, "but we're married. There's a difference."

"Maybe," he said. "But we both know you too well. Remember the time you let me pick you up when you were married to Jeff? It was a lot like that. And I know you want to honor our marriage, but let's be realistic. There might come a time when you'll be tempted, and I won't be around to walk in on you. Then, you'll have to make a choice. Do you go to bed with him or not?"

"I wouldn't. I wouldn't!" I interjected.

"Oh, don't be so quick. If you're honest with yourself, you know you might, you won't resist the temptation. I'm not saying you will, but if that ever happens, I don't want you to beat yourself up."

I cowered in his arms. "I hope I don't," I said.

"Honestly, I've prepared for this," he told me. "Remember the first few times we were together? Even though you were married, we were having fun. Then, later, when I knew that Jeff and you weren't happy, I let it get more serious. If and when, I just hope you won't let it get serious. If it ever does happen, please be honest with me. Don't keep me in the dark. That way, we'll be able to face it together, and figure out how to make it work for us. Okay?"

"Okay," I sniffled.

Nothing happened immediately. I didn't want it to. I had every intention, that winter, to be faithful to Randy until one of us wasn't here anymore. But the months slid away, and little things happened, were said.

One day we were at Lowe's. I was sitting on a patio couch, Randy was off doing something, and a rather good looking man looked at the piece. I said, "Sit beside me. I won't know what a loveseat will feel like without someone else, will I?" Totally in character for me, and really, I didn't mean anything by it. The guy sat down, and we started talking, joking. Before too long Randy came by, carrying some sort of tool he just had to have. He saw me, walked to the next aisle. I didn't rush but got up a few moments later. "He was helping me see what the loveseat felt like."

Randy laughed. "Oh, imagine what would happen if you were looking at beds."

Nothing more, no questions about if I liked the guy, or if there was any ulterior motive at all (there wasn't!) Just a hint of acceptance of my ways, indulgence.

Another time, we were on vacation at the beach. We were getting sloshed at a bar, and I remarked to a man who was wearing a shirt sporting four legged animals that his horses needed watering too. He sat down with the two of us, and we got into a discussion about who knows what. Again, the booze got me talking, and I suddenly realized I was touching Tom's shoulder and laughing. A little bit later, Randy said he felt he needed a shower. No, I didn't need to come back with him, stay and have another drink. Really, I didn't think about it at all.

Tom and I talked for another half hour, and then I headed back to our room. When I got there, Randy said, "Oh, you're back early."

"Didn't you expect me?"

"I didn't know what to expect." The way he said it, even though there wasn't anything crude or explicit, led me to believe that he half-expected me to go to Tom's room. But he wasn't upset about it, just accepting of who I was.

These are only two examples of dozens. Randy continually seemed to expect that I'd eventually be unfaithful to him, and he genially insinuated that there was nothing to fear. Of course, this had an impact on me, too. If my husband didn't really care if I had an affair or not, should I care? He was regularly letting me know that he'd be accepting if I jumped the fence, so why shouldn't I? I didn't make any plans to be unfaithful, I didn't go looking for a man to make love to me, I was in a state of indifference, almost.

So, it wasn't surprising when...

It was that broiling day that I was telling you about, and this man had been trying out for the 400 meter freestyle. And when he sat close to me and asked me if it was hot enough, I realized he was looking me over, in the way guys will. (Girls will, too, but we're more circumspect about it.) I was wearing an average bikini, sort of pinkish. My long dark golden brown hair hung limply, being wet and the humidity so high. I wasn't wearing any jewelry at all, only my wedding band, of course.

Keith had a nice flat stomach, I could tell he was fond of working out. His jaw protruded slightly, his eyes were golden to match his short brown hair. He could use a shave, but these days so many men think women like stubble.

I told him the one where a priest and a rabbit walk into a bar - no, that's not a typo - and he laughed as if it was the funniest thing in the world. I found out he was a manager in a data farm, I asked him if he graduated in agriculture.

"Where's your husband?" he asked.

"Oh, he's up in Montana, hunting the horrifying amphibian."

"Huh?"

"He went on a fly-fishing trip with his buddies. He'll be back tomorrow night."

For quite awhile, he kept handing me straight lines and I'd finish them off.

Then, he asked me what time the pool closed, I said, "Nine o'clock."

"That's pretty early for a night like this, isn't it?"

"Oh, you don't know the trick, do you?" I explained, "At nine, the automatic lock clicks. You can't get in after that. But nobody comes around to make sure everyone's out of the pool. If you get here by nine, you can stay all night if you want."

"Have you ever done that?" he asked.

"Many a time, it's very peaceful."

"Well, maybe I'll do that tonight. Maybe you could join me?"

Something in me sang, that old touch of danger mixed with adventure. "If a pack of attack poodles don't maul me on the way, maybe."

I gathered my things. As I was leaning over to put my sandals on, I could feel his gaze down my bra. And as I walked to the gate, I was sure his eyes were memorizing the swish of my ass.

I had a small glass of wine with my salad, and I decided to give Randy a call. "Have you drowned yet?" I asked.

"Came close a couple of times, but the bears talked me into walking on water." (My husband has learned that if he doesn't give it back to me, I can be relentless.) I checked his flights, he was still planning on landing just after ten the next night, he asked me if I had plans.

"Oh, who knows. I had a swim this afternoon, maybe I'll go over as the pool's closing and have another one. Too bad you won't be here." A few times, when there was no one else there, we'd fooled around.

"Oh, find somebody to take my place," he joked. Or was he joking?

About eight, I took Squire for a walk around the lake, and passed the clubhouse. There was only one family in the pool. My mind was muddled. Should I meet Keith? I could, it'd be nice to have some company. Would anything else happen? I resolved that it wouldn't, I'd just have a nice swim, some conversation and come home.

Thinking I'd like some wine at the pool, and that Keith - if he showed up - might like some too, I put the bottle I'd opened for dinner into a cooler, along with two plastic glasses.

Did I make myself up? A little bit, just some eye-liner, blush and lip gloss. After the shower I'd taken earlier, my hair was already cleaned and brushed. I also changed into my other bikini. (Could I have worn a one-piece? Oh, maybe. I didn't really think about it.)

Putting a cover-up over it, I scratched Squire good bye, and walked to the pool. There was only one other body in it, yes, it was Keith. It was just sunset as I slipped through the gates, the crescent moon was high in the southwest sky.

"Hi," he said.

"Hey, is the water still so cold?" He gave me a glance, the sun that day had warmed it nearly to body temperature.

I strode over to the couches that many apartment dwellers have parties or dinner on, turned my back to Keith, and leaned over to take my cover up off. When I turned around, I noticed Keith taking a long look at me. Oh, yes, this was THAT bikini, the one Randy had bought for me before a trip to the islands. I knew my ass looked fantastic in it, so tight the crack showed. I turned around again, leaned over and poured us both a glass of wine, and shook it at him.

Then as I walked to him, his eyes were definitely not up here, they were down there, to the ample cleavage (it was a push up bra,) and the rounded mounds. I didn't care. No, I take that back. I was internally laughing at his pseudo tongue hanging out of his pseudo mouth. I slipped into the water, and with a tie pulled my hair up onto my scalp - I really didn't want it to get wet. Plus, Randy has told me many a time that I have a fabulous neck.

I swam for a bit, Keith kept near me - did he think I was going to drown? We talked, I looked at the moon. The sky in the east became shadowy, the lamps came on at the sidewalk around the lake, the apartments lit up.

We sat on the side of the pool, sipping our wine, I told more jokes, Then - should I have? - I asked one of my favorite questions. "Why doesn't Barbie ever get pregnant?"

"I don't know."

"Because Ken always comes in another box."

Well, that opened things up a bit. "That's a beautiful bikini," Kieth complimented.

"What? The thing in the bikini isn't beautiful?" I pouted.

Of course he got flustered, I thought I saw a red face in the dusk, and he tried to tell me, no, he thought I was very pretty. I laughed at his chagrin, and he laughed with me. That was the first time I touched his arm.

"My glass is empty," I announced, "why don't you go over and fill it up."

In the forty seconds or so he was gone, I scrutinized my emotions. Was this getting out of hand? If I didn't pull back, I was fairly sure how it would end up. Did I want this? Or didn't I? What would Randy think about it?

When Keith returned, he rested on the side of the pool beside me, we were facing the lake and everything was turning quite dark. Although the rest of the complex was always brightly lit - I felt perfectly safe taking a walk at night - the back of the clubhouse and pool are shadowy. Even if someone was walking past us, they'd never see us.

We clinked glasses - alright, it was the sound of plastic touching - and Keith said, "Here's to new friends."

"And old lovers," I added, almost without thinking. Was it a slip-up, or a subconscious invitation? I'll never know.

Suddenly, I sensed Keith's hand on my mid thigh! And, with two and a half glasses of wine in me, I took the lewd way out - I put my hand on his, and pulled it up further and slightly spread my legs. It didn't take him very long to be pulling on the elastic of my bottom, and we were kissing.

"Let's get in," I suggested, and we slid into the pool.

It wasn't quite five feet deep, our heads easily out of water, the rest of our bodies buoyant. He pulled me to him, we kissed and I felt his hand slip inside my bra. The first touch was high-voltage, I'm sure my nipple rose up to meet his palm. I reached down, put my hand in his trunks, he was hard for me. It didn't take him long to put his hand in and tickle my clit.

"Take my bottoms off," I ordered, and soon I was the opposite of topless. We wiggled a bit, I put my legs around his hips, he had a finger stuck way up there.

"Are you a trampoline?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"I want to bounce on you! Take your trunks off."

I never dismounted, he had a tough time pulling his swimsuit down and off, but there we were, our bottoms exposed to each other. I held his prick, slinked down and felt the tip at my pussy. A little further, and I had this aura of glee - for the first time in years, I had a man's cock inside me that wasn't Randy's. I never realized I'd missed the feeling of strange so much.

We moved together, I pulled myself up using my arms around his neck, he'd pull my waist down. We were fucking nicely together.

I wasn't close to an orgasm, I have a hard time getting there without a lot of foreplay, but it didn't matter. I was having a ball, two of them actually. Of course, Keith was gasping wildly, trying to keep it down so the neighbors wouldn't hear us, and I wasn't surprised when he tensed, I could feel his prick twitch inside me, I figured I was being filled up. And that also was a joy, knowing that I'd made him happy so easily. We kissed wildly, his cock still up in me.

"God, that was great," he said.

"Did we cause a tsunami?" I cracked. I hopped off him. I felt around with my feet, found my bottoms, standing on one leg then the other I pulled them up. Keith had to dive to find his, I held his depleted wand as he got dressed.

"Can we go to your place?" I begged. "I need more. If you think you can get it up again..."

"I can give it the old college try."

We slipped out of the water, grabbed our towels and shirts and coverups and the basket, headed off the other direction from my place. His apartment seemed relatively clean, well furnished. I noticed a couple of pieces of art on the wall, a bookcase. "You want anything?" he asked.

"Just you, get over here!" I reached around and unbuckled my bra, it slipped off, I pulled my bikini off. He pulled his trunks off as well, for the first time we saw each other naked.

I plopped down on the couch, he knelt in front of me. He wasn't a bad kisser, when he sucked on my nipples they thickened nicely. At the same time, he was tickling my clit, had a finger up inside me and it was sliding nicely. "I want you to eat me," I demanded.

I felt him hesitate. With the guys I was with between marriages I'd run into this, didn't feel bad about challenging him. "What, you want a girl to suck you off, even swallow it. But you're afraid of eating a pussy just because it's got your cum in it?"

He laughed, then surrendered. "Whatever you want," he agreed. He went down on me, started licking. He wasn't bad, but like a lot of guys, he missed the mark from time to time. I didn't have any compunction in putting my finger on it and insisted, "Right there." He found it, and I started getting that little wave. I closed my eyes for a bit, let him tease me. Then I wanted more.