Anna's Metamorphosis by SandraMustard,SandraMustard

“Oh, Sweetie, I can’t believe a person with your past got into a situation like this. I don’t know if this guy will scare you back into hiding or set you free. He seems like the kind of lover who will go as slow as it takes to win you over. I predict that with his uh … credentials, you are in for a wild ride. You did all the right things today … well, most things. You can fix the hug the next time you see him.”

“How?”

“Right off, greet him with a hug he can’t ignore.”

“How do I do that?”

“Press your whole body against him. Let your chest mash against his. Lay your hips against him until you feel his cock against your belly.”

I was shocked. “That’s not very subtle. How’s he going to react? He might suddenly become aggressive.”

“You don’t want to be subtle. I can tell you’re fixin’ to have sex with him. Make sure he knows that or he might decide you’re too set in your ways to change. I don’t think a green light from you is going to make him change his approach. I’m thinking he considers you a challenge to seduce that he doesn’t want to spoil. You told him what you’ve been through, so he knows he has to move ahead only when you’re ready. Now that he knows all about your past, you’re the trophy he’s gotta have.”

“A trophy? Me?”

“Yeah! You have to be honest about the way you look. You’ve been trying to hide your best assets all your life. He wants to see you naked and I predict that’s exactly what will happen … before you have sex. Getting a stiffy from inspecting your clothed body up close suggests he can’t wait to see you nude. Getting you naked is the game he’ll play. Once that happens, he figures you’ll be begging him for sex.”

I spent a couple of days contemplating my moves, building up my courage. Other than bring my swimsuit, I didn’t expect to do anything different. I did plan to be friendlier but I didn’t want to be naked with him yet. Focused on greeting Brett with a good hug, I planned little beyond that start.

* * * * *

As soon as he saw me walk up behind his yard, he waved. I took it as an invite and headed toward the gate. When he opened it and stood there naked, my eyes went straight to his hanging cock. I didn’t look up from it as I greeted him, “Nice to see you again, Brett.” Stepping directly toward him, he looked uncertain about my intention until I put my arms around him and we hugged.

This time, I was hugging him tight. I could feel my breasts pressing on his chest, my face nestled against his neck. My hips were snug against his thighs. I paid special note to how his penis felt pressed across my mons with the end reaching my thigh. It was touching through my clothes, of course, but awareness of the sensations made them stimulating. I rediscovered enjoyment being in his arms too, allowing my hug to linger for extra seconds.

Brett reacted when I finally pulled back. His relaxed grip held me at arm’s length, his voice calm. “What was that about?”

“I’m sorry about the way I hugged you the other day. It’s an old habit, part of the way I was. I’m trying to change, to be more friendly with men I meet.”

He answered with a coy smile, “I must say, you were more than friendly today.”

He might as well have winked; the extra word ‘than’ stood out like a bell clang. He was telling me he felt my hug was intentionally sexual. I turned to hide the blush that I felt warming my face and headed into his yard. Mission accomplished; Molly would be proud. I found the body contact exciting and desirable. In fact, I couldn’t wait to hug him again.

I brought a beach bag with items to make a day of it. After handing a water dish to Brett to fill for Greta, I headed to the pool house to put on my swimsuit. A windowless, shed-like structure, the little room was noisy and sweltering. A skylight provided natural lighting but a single roof vent provided inadequate ventilation. Tanks, pumps, and piping lined one side, a wooden bench the other, and a toilet sat openly in the back corner. I changed quickly, putting my clothes into my bag as I removed them to keep them off the unswept floor.

Brett was standing by the chairs when I walked out. I thought he would like seeing me in a swimsuit, but he frowned when he looked me over. Glancing down at the heavy, black material hiding my features, I felt old and unattractive. Imagining I disappointed him and worried it soured his interest in me, I contemplated what I could do to put things back on track.

Brett held out one of the beer bottles he brought out for us. Having avoided beer entirely for over thirty years, I hesitated, but nauseous memories of drinking beer didn’t well up this time. Probably because of what he knew about my religious background, he asked if I didn’t drink. I saw the moment as another negative mark clouding my desirability.

“I’m not a teetotaler but seldom drink more than a glass of wine. I got very drunk only once, in college, on beer, you see. I was sick for days and haven’t had a beer since. But, please don’t think you have to get me sweet tea instead. I’m thirsty and that cold beer looks refreshing enough to try some right now.”

I didn’t make the claim just to turn the situation positive although it worked out that way. I was thirsty after the long walk under the intense sun and using the sweltering pool house; The droplets forming on the bottle suggested its coldness, wooing me into trying one.

Brett removed the unfamiliar twist-cap and I took a sip. The lite beer lived up to its name in taste and aroma. I took two big swallows; delightful cold wetness soothed my dry mouth and throat.

We sat under his patio umbrella to drink the beers and talk about swimming; I again mentioned my regular health club workouts but not the competitive swimming in college. It wasn’t long before we sought relief from the breezeless heat and humidity in the pool water. The beer gave me a sense of exuberance and the water obscured my biggest distraction.

As we began swimming, I used the opportunity to show off my talents in an effort to impress him. I toyed with him, swimming just a little faster than his best efforts. He kept trying harder. When we stopped to rest, he was panting from the exertion while the effort was a warm up for me.

“You’re a pretty fast swimmer,” he conceded.

“I should be. I work at it. I can swim even faster.” I think the beer made me boastful.

“Show me.”

I was eager to accept his challenge. I made a show of loosening my arms and taking cleansing breaths. What made me seek special notice from Brett? I had always been introverted to an extreme around men. Was I trying to challenge his ego or stimulate his libido?

“There and back,” I said as I faced the other end. I kicked off the wall behind me and slipped into my practiced rhythm, exerting full power on every stroke. Looking for the wall, the water stung my eyes, making me wish I had my goggles on. Turning underwater, my timing was perfect despite being rusty after less pool swimming in Florida. I continued the all-out effort until I touched the wall next to Brett.