“Your mouth fell open again,” she said, amused. “Come back tomorrow?”
“Oh. Wow. I’d love to, but… sure you want me to?”
She nodded. “I liked this.”
“Should I bring a swimsuit?”
“Now, where’s the fun in that?”
~~~~
Back home, the house was still roasting despite leaving windows open and every fan going full blast. I flopped into bed just as the sky lightened, excited at meeting the mysterious girl.
Who was she? If she was visiting, how did she know about the Mason’s pool? Had she scouted the neighborhood for a suitable place to sneak into? Maybe: there weren’t many pools in our lower middle-class neighborhood. There had been no cars parked on the street anywhere near the house, so she had to have been close enough to walk.
Maybe she was homeless and had a backpack and sleeping bag hidden somewhere in the back yard. No. In the daylight there would be no place to hide. Plus, the Masons had a pool and landscape service tending the place—I’d seen them and their trucks there many times.
There was something about her I couldn’t explain. I knew I’d never seen her before but felt some tenuous connection. I wanted to learn everything about her, yet the mystery added to the excitement of trespassing and being naked with her. She sure wasn’t one for conversation.
I dozed on my sweaty sheets while a rattling pedestal fan buffeted my body with muggy heated air, curtains drawn tight against the summer day.
I dreamed of swimming in dark water, the silky flow over my bare skin. Then she was beside me, matching my strokes with effortless grace. Soon that became the sensation of her hands caressing me everywhere as I caressed her—face, breasts and then lower, eagerly exploring her lean body, so different from my curvy ex-girlfriend.
I woke around noon, consumed by a voracious horniness. I tried jerking off to thoughts of her, struggling to hold on to the sensations in my fading dream, but couldn’t finish. Beautiful as she was, it seemed like betraying our understanding that nudity wasn’t sexual to think of her that way.
We had agreed to meet at 1:00am. It was the longest wait of my life. I busied myself with chores around the house and my ongoing experiments with fan placement for optimal airflow. I cooled off with quick cold showers. I would have mowed the lawn, but it died weeks before when the city had to impose water restrictions.
Night finally arrived, but again offered no relief from the terrible heat and humidity. When it was time to leave, I stuffed a towel into a backpack and hurried out.
Except for the competing chirps of crickets, the streets were silent—every window dark and most driveways empty. It seemed everyone had fled the baking city for a lake or anywhere cooler. Longing filled me each time I passed a house emitting the low buzz of an air conditioner.
All three houses at the end of the Mason’s cul-de-sac were still dark and silent. At the backyard gate I cinched the straps of my backpack tight and climbed over, eager for the pool. Eager for her.
“Hey,” I whispered, scanning the shadows all around. “Are you here?”
The yard was silent and the pool a glassy expanse. I peered into the shadows at the rear of the house. No one. Disappointment settled over me at the thought she wouldn’t show. Maybe she realized she was pushing her luck swimming with someone who knew the Masons. Or she left town or had enough of being drooled over by an inexperienced younger guy.
The gate rattled. I ran over to see her climbing. At the top, she got her shorts caught on a spike, but she freed them before I could reach up to help unsnag her. She dropped silently into the back yard.
“Hiya,” she said, beaming.
Her tight t-shirt and hiking shorts hugged her slim frame, emphasizing her boobs and hips. Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“I was worried you wouldn’t show,” I said.
“No way I’d miss this.”
She strode to the back of the house, pulling off her t-shirt as she walked. In seconds, the rest of her clothes were off and piled on a patio chair. Catching me drinking in her nude form, she closed her eyes, raised her arms over her head then arched and stretched her body cat-like in a languid sensuous display.
Turning, she sauntered to the shallow end with, it seemed, a little added sway to her hips and hopped into the water.
I snapped my gaping mouth shut, stripped and hurried in. Again, the sensation of the cool water on my bare ass and dick was unsettling but exhilarating.
She waited, watching as I waded to where she stood waist deep. When I reached her, she ducked down until only her head showed. I did the same, waving my arms around under the water, careful to give her distance.
“Oh, I waited all day for this,” I said.
“The pool? Or for me?” she said.
“Ooookay,” I said. “How about I was waiting to be with you in the pool?”
She smiled. “Good answer.” She looked me up and down. “So, what do you want to do tonight, bad boy? Got any ideas?”
I couldn’t miss her smoky look, but no part of my mind could believe it. There was no way she meant what I thought. “Uh, yeah,” I said. “I have one. Wait here.”
Exiting the pool, I found the storage box by the back door the Masons kept pool toys in and returned with five large brightly colored plastic rings.
“Diving rings,” I said, handing them to her. “I’m amazed they still have them. They’re weighted on one side so they sink, but one side sticks up from the bottom. At the pool parties, me and the other kids spent hours fetching these things from the bottom.”
I took them back and flung each into dark, hearing them splash into the deep end. “Whoever brings back the most, wins,” I said.
She studied me, incredulous, then nodded and dove under the surface. I chased after her.
The rings were hard to see at the bottom of the unlit pool. Underwater, we collided several times as we felt around in the gloom.
I only found one before needing air.
“This is fun!” she said when she surfaced. “Never had things like this growing up.”
She held up two rings and I held up mine.
“I win,” she said and stuck out her tongue.
“Nuh uh you don’t! There are still two down there. If I get them, I win.”
We both gulped a breath and submerged.
Our bodies collided and slid past each other’s with tantalizing friction as we scoured the bottom. Her hand accidentally brushed my ass and I’m sure my hand brushed over a breast once or twice. Air ran out and we surfaced.
I held up my one ring, then added two more from my other hand.
“You cheated!” she said with a comical pout.
“How did I cheat?”
“I’ll think of something. Best two out of three?”
~~~~
When again I found more rings than her, she changed best two-out-of-three to best three-out-of-five. We had more accidental contact while under the water and it seemed the game had become more about that than finding rings.
On one trip to the surface, she wrapped around me from behind and stole my rings before swimming away. I did the same to her the next round and she surfaced, grinning and calling me a cheater again.
“You don’t play fair at all,” I said with a laugh. “Diving for rings isn’t supposed to be a contact sport. So much for no touching.”