An adult stories – First Date: Night Before Nude Day by Kethandra,Kethandra Author’s note: This is a submission in the Literotica Nude Day Story Contest 2024. Votes and comments are encouraged. All characters are entirely fictional and well over the age of 18. Copyrighted by the author 2024.
Enjoy.
-Kethandra
First Date: The Night Before Nude Day
By Kethandra Wilde
She stared at the naked woman in the mirror, back at the old racing swimsuit, and released a doubt-filled sigh. But it wasn’t just the obvious differences in her body now from the willowy one she had had in high school, when the suit was new. Who wouldn’t have insecurities after the idiocy of agreeing to be set up on a blind date at a friggin’ Nude Day celebration?
The high-necked suit, blue with a wide red stripe down each side, had once been almost shimmering Lycra, crisp and vibrant. Something a superhero might wear. Now it was thin, worn, dull, as well as small, small, small.
New, it had been on the verge of being too big, barely needing any stretch as it covered her lanky diver’s body as she’d piked, flipped, twisted before knifing with hardly a splash into the deep end of high school pools across this part of the state. Now, Laverne doubted its ability to cover her current body – both the curves that had come on late, during her junior and senior years in college, and the toned, graceful muscles she had built and maintained since then.
She dropped the suit, letting it crumple on the low carpet of the hotel room, slipped into a pose, flexing biceps like a bodybuilder might. She looked good, really good, and she knew it. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have doubts or insecurities. Like why did such a toned, fit body – shadowed lines defining muscles in her upper arms and across her stomach – still hold onto these unlikely boobs, proud, firm and oh so very full, and her well-padded, heart-shaped rear?
And why oh why did she ever say yes to being set up with a nude blind date? And why had her cousin Charlene insisted that she bring a swimsuit for a day in the buff?
At least the hotel had a cozy bar. Earlier she’d ordered a vodka martini, dirty, and brought it to her room. Long gone now. She needed at least one more drink, maybe two, before she would be able to get any sleep tonight, worrying, wondering about what embarrassments tomorrow might arise. Arise? On Nude Day? God, she hoped not.
The bar was still almost empty. One old timer sat in silence watching a baseball game, the TV mounted high on a wall. A couple, not all that much younger, huddle close, almost hidden in a booth. And a younger man, roughly her age, sat by himself at a table. He looked up when she came in, his eyes performing an admirably discrete, quick scan over her, head to toe, before his attention returned to the small notepad open in front of him. No pausing on her tits, covered now by a snug T and a sturdy bra. She was used to eyes lingering on them, so the guy got points for that at least. As her roommate in college had said about them, “It’s not like they’re all that huge; they’re just so out there.” She had gestured with her hands to emphasize their utter lack of sag.
But Mr. Notebook hadn’t taken the bait, not pausing as those dark eyes scanned her. And that wasn’t the only reason he stood out here. Dark, thick hair to go with those bright, dark eyes, he was almost too handsome, didn’t really seem to fit in this little Ohio town long past its economic prime. Not in that fitted dress shirt and those expensive-looking leather shoes. He took a sip from a tall glass half full of what looked like Coke. And rum maybe?
“Welcome back, Laverne. Another dirty martini?”
Ben? Was that the bartender’s name? He had stopped shuffling glasses behind the bar, offering a friendly grin, one eyebrow raised as he waited for her answer.
“Sure. Perfect.” She reconsidered. “Actually, let’s make this one a double.”
“Grey Goose. Shaken. Coming right up.”
The first burning swig warmed her. The second seemed to already loosen the knots of nervous worry in her neck and shoulders.
“Hi. Aren’t you friends with Mickey?”
Up close, standing, the fitted shirt flattered a strong chest. His slightly lopsided smile revealed straight near-white teeth. The notebook was gone, probably tucked into a pocket.
“I…may be. Do I know you?” She didn’t try to keep the suspicion out of her voice, let it be a barrier to keep the stranger at s distance, regardless of how damn good he looked. Looked and smelled. Double damn. She’d caught a whiff of…man. Not cologne. Man. And it was as crisp as the collar of the tailored shirt.
“No.” He frowned, reconsidering. “Not yet, I mean. You’re Char’s cousin, right? Laverne?”
“This is getting close to creepy. Who are you?”
“Sorry. I heard the bartender call you Laverne. There aren’t many of those around.”
Her nerves already on edge, the current conversation brought back the tension between her shoulders blades.
“Tell me about it. Wait. Never mind, don’t. Tell me instead, in as few words as possible, how you know who I am. You’re freaking me a little bit out.”
“Am I? Try this.” A hand waved through the air in front of him, his eyes almost closing. “I see all, past present and future, when I gaze into my crystal ball…s.”
“Okay. That’s it. Thanks in advance for the nightmares. I’m outa here.” Another swig and she set the martini glass down, maybe too enthusiastically.
“I see more. You are soon…going on a journey.” His eyes stayed lidded, in his mock trance. Amidst her annoyance, she’d still noticed he had nice thick lashes. Very nice.
“Obviously. Most people staying in a hotel are on a journey of some kind. Excuse me.” She turned away, willing to abandon the remaining vodka to end this one-sided conversation. She’d come down to the bar because of her nerves. He was not helping.
” A journey of great…exposure. You fear to expose too much, too soon, to one you have never met. You have…”
“Wait.” Her jaw was tight, teeth almost gritting. “What the hell did you say? Who are you? No bullshit.”
“Sorry. Once I get going…”
“Don’t then. Do not get going. Short sentences, no backstory. I’m tired and cranky and you aren’t helping. Please. Who, what, how.”
“Okay. First, to introduce myself, I’m Marco.”
“That doesn’t answer my…oh shit. Yes it does. You idiot!”
Tension unwound into action. She punched him square in one pectoral muscle with an extended knuckle.
“Ow. That hurt. I think your little fist just bruised my chest.” Bright eyes twinkled as fingers probed the spot of the contact.
“Ow. I think your chest just broke my fist.” She shook her hand out. He was really solid under the nice clothes.
“Now, Marco, why didn’t you start your story that way last time, instead of going for the stalker-psychic theme? All you had to say was three words. That’s all you had to say. ‘Laverne? I’m Marco.’ One. two. Three. But no. Crystal balls? Seriously?”
“I was ad libbing, badly. ‘Hi I’m Marco’ sounds a little weak in case you didn’t recognize the name.”
“Not recognize the name of the total stranger who I’m supposed to meet as a blind date at a freakin’ Nude Day festival. Marco: that’s all I know. Do you know how many times in the last week I’ve practiced said ‘Hi Marco, nice to meet you’ and wondered what part of you I’m supposed to take in a firm grasp and shake? Okay, now I sound like the creepy one.”
“A little bit. Ow.” Her knuckle hit the same spot at his answer. A good bartender, Ben was watching the exchange discretely but making no attempt to intervene, yet.
“You didn’t need to agree with that.” She shook her hand out again. “You have a really solid chest, Marco. Remind me to not have to hit you anymore.”
“I’ll try. I know what you mean though: first one to mention Nude Day touching sounds like a creep.”
“Pretty much.”
“Creep.” The curl in his upper lip as he grinned was surprisingly endearing. It brought out her own smile. Maybe she’s over- reacted to his approach.
“Hey! Stalker.” She teased him back, taking another sip of vodka and olive brine.
“Fair enough. Now that you’re not abandoning your drink here, Laverne, to flee from a psycho-psychic stalker, how would you feel about finishing it with me? I’d kind of like to use the opportunity to get to know you in clothes, maybe make tomorrow a little less awkward.”
Okay. He wasn’t just gorgeous and possessed of an appealing natural scent. He was showing a certain practical cleverness. “Will you be taking notes?”
One hand was already sweeping toward the small table. Confusion tightened his brow. “Huh?”
“I noticed you concentrating on a notepad as I came in.”
“Oh. Yeah. Just jotting down a couple thoughts for work.”
“You know, It might even turn the tables on Char and Mickey. You know they’re laughing at both of us, looking forward to bragging about how they arranged to give us the most awkward first date ever.”
“Now you’re talking.” She found herself smiling wide at the proposal. “Anything to pull one over on those two. If we can chat away like old nudity chums from way back, easy as can be, it would blow their meddling little minds.”
“So, really, all they told you was my name?”
She shrugged. “Pretty much. The usual vague boilerplate good looking, good job. And you were a swimmer.”
“Water polo, mostly. But I swam on teams when I was younger.”
“Char said you looked good in a speedo.”
“Good to know I’ll remember that.” Was that a twinge of jealousy she felt? That he was glad Charlene found him hot?
“Cad.” He laughed at her accusation. The sound had a sweet, sincere ring to it.
“Absolutely. You know. I’ve been wondering something, Laverne. Some people have rules – like no kissing on a first date. I have deduced that you do not have a strict rule against complete nudity on a first date.”
“Obviously. I could infer the same about you.”
“True enough. But are there any other dating rules I should know about?”
She considered. After the initial creepiness was explained away, she found herself surprised, already warming to him. Maybe more than just warming. And it wasn’t the vodka.
“I do have a rule, as a matter of fact. I never go too far until at least the third date.” She wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but thought it sounded pretty good for being completely improvised.
He paused. “Interesting. How far is too far?”
She noticed Ben’s attention had returned to his tumblers; no need to intervene. “Depends on the partner, of course. But assuming they’re worthy of a third date in the first place, pretty far. I won’t say ‘all the way,’ because you’re never quite all the way there, are you? You can always go further, take it another step, up the intensity, explore in so many different directions.”
His head tilted to one side, considering. “I never thought of it that way, and I like the attitude. I wonder how many sad souls quit their sexual exploration once they hit the big All The Way, thinking that’s all there is. A home-run destination to be reached instead of a guide-marker on a ever-winding path to further delights and intensities.”
“Poor souls, indeed. Hey, wait! ‘Sexual?’ Who said anything about sex?”
He paused, mouth open, caught off guard. “You strongly implied it. And you have my mind whirling with all the possibilities that might be deemed ‘too far’.”
“Kind of an open door, huh?”
“Intriguing. The kind of knowledge that makes me interested in a second date.”
“And a third, I’m thinking you’re thinking.” She tried to look suspicious but the smile returned, betraying her.
“Well, of course. All those possibilities, and doors opening. So, uh, are you just in town for the weekend?”
“Trying to figure when a third date might be? No. I got here Wednesday. My parents are starting to need more hand-holding, making sure bills are all paid, repairs done right and stuff. To answer the question I think you’re really asking: l leave Sunday afternoon, so only one day after our first date.”
“Me too. On the leaving Sunday part.”
“And you’re staying at this hotel?”
He looked around. The couple from the booth were heading out the door after a wave at Ben. “Would I be at this bar otherwise? You’re parents live in town, right?”
“I was born and raised here.”
“Looks like I’ll be a local soon enough.” Char hadn’t mentioned that. Laverne’s blind date decision had been partly based on the assumption that she could easily never see the man again, if things went south. If he was moving to Alliance…well, small towns liked gossip and everybody knew everyone. It complicated things.
“Whatcha mean?” On the other hand, she found herself wanting to learn more details about the mysterious Marco.
“I was offered a good raise to take a position at the new plant we’re opening here. They need my decision by next week. And Mickey’s been bugging me to move here for years. ‘Get out of the big city; try the real Midwest.'”
“A good raise goes far in town’s like this.” Going over her parents finances, she had first hand knowleefe of how little money it took to live very well here. Housing and real estate in particular were a bargain.
“I Know. I looked at a couple houses earlier today. Just for fun. I could have an indoor pool and a big-ass yard for less than a condo in Chicago.”
“Chicago, huh? Alliance would be a change.”
He shrugged. “True, but it’s tempting. And I can always change my mind if it turns out I’m allergic to hayseeds.”
“Your employer would let you do that?”
He made a face. “Their loss if they don’t.”
She wasn’t sure if he was joking or bragging. Probably both.
“You know.” He raised a single finger between them. “We’re both leaving Sunday. With our debut blind date tomorrow, that only leaves time for two dates, even if we forced in a Sunday morning one. Bummer.”
“I know. Now that you stopped stalking me, you’re pretty cute. I’m not sure if that makes it any easier to show up Full Monty tomorrow. I didn’t really care before, but now I want you to like what you see.”
“From what I can tell through the jeans and shirt, you have nothing to worry about.” Again, he got points for not looking at her tits when he said it.
“Thanks, but you know what I mean. Tell me you’re not nervous about that first unveiling.”
“I’d be lying if I did. I’ve paraded around in a wet speedo more times than I can remember, but there is something about being full-on naked that is different. Especially in broad daylight. On a first date.”
“Nude. At least a speedo is a halfway step – not clothes, and not nude. Something to ease the transition.”
“Something to ease the transition.” He repeating her words, he let the last one into silence, considering something. “Hey! Do you have swimsuit with you?”
“I do.” She remembered that bit of well-worn Lycra still crumpled on her room’s floor. And Char’s suggestion that she bring it.
He shrugged. “We could play a little ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.’ Just to break the ice and make tomorrow easier.”
“Show what?”
“Each other in swimsuits, as a transition to make tomorrow more comfortable.”
“And where would we do this? The pool is closed.”
“I’ve got a sunken spa in my room.”
“Of course you do. You’re the mysterious and charming Marco.”
“Charming, huh? I like that better than creepy. The Jacuzzi suite was the only room they had. My employer’s paying for it.”
“Convenient.” She wanted to stay suspicious, but the idea made sense. As much as any of this did. “And we’d just hang out in swimwear? No hanky-panky?”
“Suits stay on.” He held up one finger. “Check. No nudity until tomorrow. Check.” A second finger joined it. “Hanky-panky’s a little vague.”
She looked him in the eyes, searching for something. She want quit sure what. He didn’t look away. “Can I trust you?”
“Would Char kill me otherwise?” Good point, Marco.
“She would. Slowly. With dull power tools. Okay. If you’re going to see me nude tomorrow, no harm in showing you how hot I look in a suit tonight. Walk me to my room so I can grab it. Is it alright if I change in your bathroom? I don’t want to be wandering the hotel’s hallways in skin-tight nylon.”
‘How hot I look?’ In that threadbare antique? What was I thinking?Underpromise and overdeliver, girl. Not the other way around.
“I’d be honored.”
“Oh. A gentleman: offering me your arm even.” She finished off the last of her double martini before accepting his offer, slipping her arm through his.
“You know, I just had an idea.” There has been an awkward moment of silence waiting for the elevator. She was grateful he’d broken it.
“Another one? This is already pushing some limits.” Grateful, yes, but not enough to skip a chance to tease him.
“I was thinking we could do what we planned, get comfortable being around each other in just our swimsuits, hang out in the spa, but call it a first date.”
Hmm. “So tomorrow is really our second date…”
“And if all goes well with the first two…”
“You’d get your third one on Sunday, early.”
“We both would.” He was quick to point it out.
“You are truly devious, sir.”
“Why thank you.”
“And I like it.” She surprised herself when she leaned her head against his shoulder, cinching his elbow closer in to her. “Now. Tell me why you are here. Char would never have put us in the same hotel. Too much chance of us meeting. Like this.”
“She wouldn’t and she didn’t. I’ve been staying off 62, out near the mall. Somehow that room got double booked tonight and tomorrow, so, here I am.”
—–
“Wow. Just wow.” He was in the tub already, water covering everything below his (very nice!) chest. She had lingered in the bathroom, tucking her curves as far as possible under the skimpy fabric. At the last second, she’d decided to untie her hair, letting it cascade over her bare shoulders.
His surprised approval sounded completely genuine. “You like?”
“I like. You have no idea how much I like.”
“Well, do tell me. Oo. It’s hot.” The last was as she dipped a foot into the swirling water, one hand on the stainless steel handrail.
“That is an understatement. ‘Hot’ doesn’t begin to do justice to that suit and how you look in it.”
“I meant the water, silly.”
“You’ll get used to it, it took me a minute or so.”
“I noticed you’re already hiding most of you underwater. I gotta say your fist-brutalizing chest looks quite nice. Nude Day-worthy. But please go on, sir. You mentioned how hot I look.”
“I will. But first tell me where you got that amazing swimsuit.”
“This old thing? I wore this in high school; I was a diver on the team for two years. It was the only suit I could find last minute when Char added to bring one.”
“She didn’t say anything else?” He looked a little shy, nervous. It was endearing.
“About what?”
“About swimsuits?”
“No. Why would she? Though I thought it was a little odd considering, you know, nude day.”
Were his cheek reddening from more than the hot water? “Um. I have a thing about swimwear; it goes back to co-ed swim teams while going through puberty, I think. I really like the way an athletic body looks in a racing suit.”
“Is that why your eyes have covered every inch of me at least five times in the past 30 seconds?”
“Oh god. Is it that obvious?”
“It is indeed that obvious. Especially since I specifically noticed you not gawking at my boobs earlier, in the bar. But don’t be sorry. Notice I’m taking my time getting submerged: I may not mind your gawking all that much.”
“I did notice. And I appreciate it: you look incredible.”
“Well, thank you! But I thought you liked athletic bods. I’ve put on some curves since my diving days. A later bloomer, as they say.”
“I would say you must have. I don’t think a wise high school coach would approve of this suit with your current, uh, assets, but a thorough coach, a conscientious coach, might need a closer examination, in private perhaps.”
“Is it too much? I don’t want you to get the wrong idea on our first date.” Liar. She was now hoping he’d get all kinds of ideas.
“Too much for a school competition? If you don’t want a riot, yes. Or fights to get into the bleachers. Too much for my heart, my blood pressure, seeing you now? You and your clearly athletic figure accented with some exceedingly well placed curves? We will have to see.”
“So, if you keel over tonight with blood running out your ears, I should take it as a compliment?” She couldn’t help a giggle at the image. A giggle that lasted longer than it should have.
“Oh, the highest of compliments. Speaking of which, you have the most delightful, sweet trill of a laugh.”
“Why thank you. Hey! Why the sudden sad face?” Easing further down into the swirl of hot water – now feeling like a perfect tubbing temperature – she saw a cloud pass over the handsome features opposite her.
“They’re finally underwater. Lost to my sight. Two perfect mounds, firm and proud, straining for release from their gloriously overburdened spandex.”
“My tits? You’re talking – sonnetizing – about my tits?”
“Yep. Too much?”
“Not yet. I’ll let you know if you cross any lines. You really liked them, though? Not too much?”
“There’s that laugh again. And, no, not too much at all. Though almost too much for that suit. I don’t think. Wait. Maybe…maybe they are a little too much. Maybe you should show them to me again.”
He grinned, delighted when his suggestion rewarded him with another trill. “Yeah, you’d like that.”
“Sure would. In order to give you the most complete answer to your question, of course.”
“Of course. Why else would you want to see them? Okay. Close your eyes.”
“My eyes? Why?”
“Because covering your ears wouldn’t effect your vision. Just do what you’re told if you ever want to see these glorious globes again.”
“Are you touching them underwater? That’s not fair.”
“Shut them.”
“Yes, sir. Ma’am. Eyes closed tight, ma’am.”
“Keep them that way. Now. Picture them. Remember what you saw. Picture the snug Lycra barely managing to contain their lush, curvaceous beauty. Got that?”
“Mmmm. Yeah. I got it.”
“So. Which do you like better, the ones you’re picturing now, or…these?”
“Can I open my eyes?”
“Yes, silly. I don’t think you can answer the question otherwise.”
“Oh my…wow. Just wow.”
“That’s a good response, even if it’s repetitive. But not an answer.”
“Uh. Which do I like better? These. Definitely. Wanna know why?”
“Sure.” The word came out as a whisper. Her own cheeks felt warm, blushing at this man’s open stares and attention.
“First, they’re here, in sight, and my imagination was already doubting that my memory could possibly be accurate. Second, your swimsuit is now soaking wet. That suit has obviously been worn a few times and the fabric is quite a bit thinner than originally intended. So…not only can I see the raised details of two perfect nipples crinkled up, I can detect a hint of the darker color of the aureolas crowning them. They’re…you’re beautiful.”
“Flatterer.” Cheeks were past warm now. Well past.
“When it’s true, guilty as charged.”
“I gotta say, you’re kinda hot yourself. Char was right.”
“She said that?”
“She said you were a hunk, but she was mainly talking about how you would look nude. From what little I see of your body, she was right. But you’re cute too. Nice eyes, nice lips. I like a pretty face on a man.”
“Pretty?” A lovely lip pushed out in protest. “I guess I can live with that.”
“Good. Now I think I might like to give those pretty lips a kiss.” Until the words came out, she wasn’t quite sure if they would stay a soundless thought or not. She thanked the last martini for her boldness.
“I can live with that too. I think. There is still the threat of an embolism or an artery bursting, but a kiss from you? It is decidedly worth the risk.”
“But I don’t want it to go too far. This is a first date, remember.” She had left her seat, her side of the tub, begun easing toward him, staying submerged below her shoulders. She could feel the buoyancy of her breasts within the blue front of her suit, see his eyes watching their motion at the water’s surface.
His attention on her chest, she focused on his. Open hands met smooth moisture-slick muscles just above the water. There was a very pleasantly defined, shallow valley that ran down the center, bordered by muscle on either side. She resisted the urge to drag a thumb over an almost delicate nipple, drawn into a hard point even in the heat.
His eyes found hers as she leaned in slowly, bringing her mouth to his. Their nervous breaths met an instant before lips…”Wait.”
His voice was hoarse, not much more than a croak.
What? Why? Blood pounded in her head as she pushed herself back, palms still against his chest. They felt his deep, heaving breath. For once she was making the big move and nothing embarrassing was happening and he waits for the last possible instant to put on the brakes?
He sucked in air, chest rising under her hands. “Wait.”
She waited. His face showed his struggle, pained. She’d be kissing that pain away right now if he’d only let her.
Another deep inhale. Sigh. Was he pouting? “It’s just not fair.”
He shook his head, brows drawing in tight, his grief clear. “We had an agreement, or at least, I thought we did. You had your chance and you delivered as promised, but now you deny me my chance?”
What was he talking about? Maybe she should have stuck with a single vodka on her second trip to the bar. He let the silence hang between them. The corners of his lips betrayed the pained pout, curling up at his own cleverness.
“You did such an excellent job showing me yours in that wonderful suit, both wet and dry, but you haven’t even asked me to show you mine.”
“You…brat! You had me going! But I guess you are right.”
Palms pushed off his chest and she glided, floating, back arched, to her original side of the tub. “Now show me what you got.”
Give the man credit, he knew how to tease. Immediately, he began to stand, but without any rushing at all. Leisurely. Casual. In control. Water ran down over shoulders and chest, lower yet as he rose, starting to tower over her. The expanse of his defined abs seemed to slide up into view forever. How much farther could they go?
Finally, fabric. Tinier by far and nearly as tight as her own, in a garish abstract confusion of colors slung low on lean but still powerful looking hips. She noticed a thin trail of hair, barely more than wispy, leading her eyes from a very cute belly button down until it disappeared into a snug, streamlined waistband and the off-white bow of a drawstring.
One drop of water clung to a tiny twirl of hair, refusing to submit to gravity. She had a sudden urge to move forward, suck the stubborn bead in, savoring the moisture and her location, so close above the speedo and the so-obvious package it held without hiding. He wasn’t fully hard, thanks be to whatever god was responsible for this vision, but his shape was beyond obvious, angling up to one side, testing the waistband’s commitment.
Standing on display, vulnerable, the fidgeting little motions of his fingers betrayed his nerves. “Uhm. Are you going to say anything? You know, like ‘Wow’ or ‘Hmm. I always thought Char’s taste was questionable but this confirms it.'”
She let him hang for another silent second or two. “This is fun. Being begged to gawk at a cute nearly-naked guy with a gawk-worthy bod – and begged by the hottie himself. Do you mind if I take my time, savor the view and the situation?”
“As much time as you’d like. ‘Savor’ is good though, right?”
She nodded. “Very good.”
“Then savor on.” She did, noticing details now. The thickness of the strong thighs thrusting out of the water. The shadowy-sharp line delineating upper arms from powerful shoulder muscles. A curl of dark hair shimmering wet under one ear. Those lips, pursed now with nervousness, so much more kissable now with their current unsureness needing soothed, reassured.
“I got to say this is kind of – no – this is really hot. And nerve-wracking. I feel like a piece of meat, but in a good way. Like a beautiful, smart, sexy woman taking her time giving me her honest appraisal, top to bottom. And I really think she likes what she sees, if that look on her face is a worthy guide. More specifically, that hungry look on those beautiful lips of yours. Mmm. That is one of the most sexy things I have ever seen in my entire life. But can I have that kiss now? Please?”
A kiss now? In their current position? If she floated forward now to offer him a kiss, his shape, barely held back by the snug little suit, would be a lot closer to her lips than his mouth.
She realized her body had indeed floated forward, totally without her permission. Equally bold hands were reaching out, fingers tracing along the multicolored waistband to either side of the neat little bow. If she tugged it down, allowed him to flop free of the…
No! Down, girl! That was way, way too far for a first date.
She stretched her neck back to look up at him. God almighty, he looked good towering over her. Already nervous, strong white teeth bit into a luscious lower lip as she gave that waistband a tiny, teasing tug.
“This suit, it’s…well, it’s very nice, definitely flattering…but it’s, uh, different. Not like a regular speedo.” Yes. Good girl! That’s it. Move the conversation and her thoughts to something a little less intimate.
He grinned, the nervousness gone. Maybe he welcomed the change in direction as much as she did. “It’s a waterpolo suit. Sturdier, made to take the abuse of being tugged on, yanked. And a little different cut. It makes it harder to let an opponent to get s grip on it. Waterpolo is a dirty game under the water. Any advantage you can get.”
“Let me get this straight.”
“I’m starting to straighten already.” She couldn’t help a laugh at his too-obvious reply.
“Eager boy.”
“Heck yes.” His smile lit his whole face now.
“First, I need to make one thing clear. Waterpolo players look like this? Right?”
He shrugged. “Roughly. Some are taller, some stockier, but…”
“Close enough. And there are places where like 10 or more guys who look like this swim around in a pool, wrestling almost naked and yanking on each other and trying to tug each other’s speedos off? Where did you say you play? And what time’s the next practice, match, game, tryouts, whatever? This sounds like a great spectator sport.”
He laughed, coughing, shook his head. “Mickey warmed me about you. Sexy, smart, and funny. And silly me thought he was exaggerating. It’s an irresistible combination.”
“Then don’t resist.” Fingers tugged at the waistband again, pulling him down. “Join me down here in the water.”
He accepted the suggestion, easing back onto the hidden tile seat. Both of them let hands wander over each other’s body, both bare skin and Lycra-covered, as he did. Two pairs of eyes scanned the other’s, searching for they weren’t quite sure what.
“May I…” it sounded so proper even as she said it. “May I sit on your lap?”
He nodded, quick and earnest. Yes please.
One knee crawled wide, outside his thigh, joined immediately by its mate in a straddle, facing him. Slick, sensual skin on skin. His eyes were below hers now, his neck tilted back to face her. She let fingers luxuriate in his thick hair, holding his head, lowering her own. “Now. About that kiss.”
Lips met, stayed chaste, hesitant, for maybe a second. Then tongues took over, slick, wet, wrestling each other. It was a kiss usually saved for lips that had been waiting for this moment for years, not ones who had met less than an hour or two before. But god it felt right. She let herself go, time and the outside world dim memories.
Her fists gripped his hair with more force now, keeping hungry lips and tongue close. His hands roamed over her flanks, her back, her hips and thighs, over soaked spandex and bare skin. She shivered when his thumbs brushed over soft flesh overfilling the outer hems bounding the top of her suit.
Side boob. She squirmed at the sensation, his thumbs caressing over tenderness caught between worlds: not quite as ticklish as it would be closer under her arms, not as blatantly erotic, as tormenting as his touch would be on her nipples, so close to where he currently focused.
Of their own volition, her hips rocked forward, into, against him. A shape caught between their bodies, stiff and obvious. A shape that had only been strongly hinted at when he stood over her, so very much on display.
They both hesitated, frozen with his hard length trapped, before the kiss redoubled, his hands on her hips pinning lower bodies tight together, every grind of hers down and onto him met with his own upward reply. Small sounds escaped them both, wordless sighs, slurps and moans of pleasure and encouragement.
Her lower half pinning to him by strong hands, she let her own smaller ones explore his arms, shoulders, and broad back. She traced the form of muscles, felt them transition into more muscles, lean and rippling with power.
His grip on her eased, but only enough for one hand to slip deep around her waist, one arm to cinch her close while freeing the other.
“Ahh!” That other hand, or at least a single finger and thumb on that hand, had found – finally! – a nipple, sadly deprived of attention until now. The sudden intensity, magnified by the texture of thin, soaked spandex, brought forth the cry, tore her lips from his as her back arched hard. This ground her harder against his trapped stiffness, freed enough space between them for his abandoned mouth to seize her other nipple through her wet swimsuit as finger and thumb continued to roll and tease its trapped twin.
Deep, deep in her belly, a maelstrom of electric energy coalesced, drawing from each stimulus, collecting a whole exceeding their logical sums. Her vision dimmed, breaths short, panting.
Still separated by two layers of fabric, she felt herself opening, welcoming the stiffness of his rigid shaft into the cleft centered high between her thighs. Without their suits she would have been clambering onto him, guiding him into her. Fuck ‘too far.’ Fuck ‘too soon’ or ‘wait for a third fucking date.’
She wanted Marco now. Inside her. Fucking.
The electric whirlwind coalesced into a knot, twisted as tight as it could go. She knew the feeling well, picturing it as a coiling dragon’s tail, crackling with primordial energy. It wasn’t supposed to be this intense. Certainly not this soon. She knew what was going to happen if she didn’t distract the dragon right now.
“Marco.”
Nibbling, sucking, kissing, all through her threadbare suit, he ignored her.
“Marco!” A fist of thick hair gained her purchase in her personal tempest, as well as his attention. His eyes were glazed, dilated, bright and beautiful.
“Huh…wha…?”
She stroked his temple. “That feels so very good. Almost too good.”
“Too far?”
“Nooo. But taking me down a path in that direction. You really know how to make a girl feel good with these sweet lips of yours. She leaned in, kissed those lips, her hand still holding his head. He’d released her nipples but a strong arm still cinched her tight to him.
The kiss was soft, unrushed, but still laced with power, more like a thunderstorm brewing at the horizon versus lightning crashing down on the roof overhead.
His eyes held no guile when she leaned back enough to study him again. “I have to ask, Marco. Your kisses are playing me like a fiddle. Striking all the right chords. Incredibly so. Incredibly enough that I need a bit of reassurance before I call ‘too much, too far, too soon.’ Because I really don’t want this to be anywhere near too far. I like it.”
Dammit. Her hips had pushed against him, just a little, the slutty, self-centered traitors. They had to go rogue right now, announcing their own greedy wants without her consent.
A nipple, abandoned by a handsome, talented mouth, began complaining about its loss and suggestions to fix the interruption of service. This was not the time for the distraction of a body-parts rebellion. She looked down at the complainer, realized it was dangerously close to popping free of the too-small suit.
She needed to be calm, rational, and unified. Not so easy while she adjusted herself under the suit, intimately aware of Marco’s devouring kisses on the spot moments ago. Marco whose watchful, appreciative eyes caught every adjustment. She drew a deep breath. God, he looked so good, so sweet, waiting for her to go on. It would be easier to just grab that thick hair and guide that mouth back onto her. To wrap her legs around his middle, ride the storm that still swirled in her tummy, the dragon resting lightly, coiled and ready, waiting to leap back into roaring flame, an irristible maelstrom. No. Another breath. She was worth more than the easy way, at least tonight.
Or he was.
Or they might be. Where did that thought come from?
Was she falling for him already? Talk about too far, too soon.
“Marco, are you playing a game with me?”
Just asking it was opening up a vulnerable side she preferred not to examine very often. Regret berated her before the last word came out. But regret washed away in a instant, gone, as a pain struck his handsome face.
“Laverne…”
She couldn’t have said how she knew, but she was sure the pain was not at being accused, falsely or not. This was the pain of empathy, as though his gut reaction was to honor and recognize her pain, her need for reassurance.
“Oh, sweet Laverne. I wouldn’t play a game with…”
Then he stopped, stopping her heartbeat with him. “Well, maybe I would…”
Once again, his smile betrayed him, restarting her heart and her caught breath.
“…If we were playing a game of ‘Let’s see how turned on we can get this bathing beauty who’s grinding on my hard-on in a hot tub, wearing a swimsuit that hides less than a coat of paint, while I make sure she still wants to pursue future dates with me at a hopefully accelerated rate’.”
“You are a true master of that game so far, sir, but…”
“But…” It was the first time she could remember him interrupting her all night. “Let me finish. Please.”
How could he look so fucking earnest? She nodded for him to continue, hoped she could keep hips and nipples and a gathering dragon-storm under control.
“I didn’t have very high expectations for our ‘date.’ Sure, I trust those two enough to know you’d be a looker and smart and probably not dangerously insane. But what’s the chance of that weird a first date ever leading to anything long term?”
He paused, doubt tightening his brow. “Not that I’m already looking for something more than…I mean…I don’t want you to…shit. Am I back to creepy again?”
“Shh.” Her hand held his cheek. “Definitely not back to your psycho ball-gazing creepy past. Marco. Marco. Marco. You are sweet enough and hot enough that I can forgive your exuberance for another date and perhaps even your use of the L-word…”
“L- What?! I didn’t say ‘love’ at all. I…I’m sure.” This was the sweetest Marco yet, all cute and rattled and babbling. It drew a laugh out of her that dispelled any lingering doubt, washed away concerns that bubbled out of dark, vulnerable, hurt places. The hurt itself seemed eased. Not gone, but less important.
“‘Long-term.’ That L-word. Silly man.”
“Oh thank god.” They both laughed, together.
“Now can I ask a question?”
“I suppose. You answered mine. Kind of.”
“Can I taste your other nipple now?”
Hell yes!
“Well, I guess so. It would balance things out a little bit. Though I wanted to share something with you. Something nipple related.”
He leaned close, lips opening, finding, closing over the raised shadow that had only felt the attention of his single finger and thumb so far. Suck. He tugged on it through the wet clinging fabric, released it with a ‘pop.’ “Would it be rude to continue my own nipple-related activities while you share?”
His tongue continued a light, feathery flicking over its highest point as he awaited her answer.
“Mmm. Yes. I think Thot might be – oh – nice.”
Lips sealed, sucked, the flicking now hidden from view, but evidently increased in pace, intensity. Speaking coherently was going to be a challenge, especially as the spiraled tail that had been almost dormant was stirred, whipping into an again-active storm.
“Y-Yes! Oh yes! You like those nipples, don’t you?”
“And they seem to like me. This one stood up to greet me when I got close.”
“They definitely like what you’re doing. Oh! Did…did I mention that they sometimes talk to me?”
“No…but please, go on.” His lips brushed over her with every syllable, tantalizing.
“They’re talking to me now. Whispering suggestions. I should probably ignore them.”
“Really? What do they suggest?” More soft, squirm-inducing brushes.
“I shouldn’t repeat it. It’s naughty, and most definitely beyond first date territory.”
“So.” He lifted his head to look up at her, his lips shining, moist, looking swollen. “It can’t be accomplished with our suits on?”
She considered that. “Well, I guess it could, in theory. Oh my. Like that. Yes. Please, keep doing that with your tongue. Just like that.”
His grin was teasing now. “I don’t know, I might need to stop. Unless you share what they’re whispering to you.”
“Such a brat.” She ran fingers through his hair again, resisting the urge to grab a fist-full, keep his mouth pinned to her.
“In this case, yes. Do you want me to stop? And speaking of how body parts are offering their own opinions, the way your hips are moving, I think they vote ‘no’.”
“Don’t stop.”
“I won’t. Tell me.” A quick flick was followed by a slow, lingering lick. “Please.”
“They think…”
“This is your nipples thinking?”
“Yes. More nibbling, less talking, they say now.”
“Point taken.”
“Oh yes! Uh-huh. That is it.” That fast and she was about to lose it again.
“Weren’t you about to share your talking nipples?”
“Oh yeah. That’s right. They were…they think that…if you do the things you’re doing to them, but somewhere else, I would probably…like it.”
“You’re blushing. It’s almost as cute as your laugh. Hmm. You really think so, even through your suit?”
“I like what you’re doing through my suit. And how something else feels through two suits right now.” She gave him an extra grind of her hips.
“Touché. So, you might like me to lick somewhere…else? Maybe even kiss, and nibble, suck and flick my tongue there too?”
Her nod was vigorous. “Uh-huh. That’s what my nipples keep saying.”
“Do they say how much you might like it?”
“They say ‘a lot.’ And when I like stuff down there a lot, I kinda forget about not going too far, what date I’m on, and things like that. Date? Did I say date? I meant what planet I’m on.”
“‘Down there,’ huh?” One brow rose, curious. “The ‘down there’ you’re rubbing on me now?”
“Uh. Huh.”
“Damn, girl. Ride me like that.”
“As. You. Wish.” Each word was punctuated by a pronounced roll of her hips.
“Are you ready now? To try out your nipples’ suggestion? We could stay here a while longer if you like. Uh! This feels pretty damn good.”
“Make me feel better.” Her heart was pounding, her belly barely holding back the stormy turmoil in anticipation.
“But the suits stay on, right?” Can’t blame him from checking.
“Good boy.”
“You’re about to find out how good. Relax. Just float. I’ll support you.”
His hands were soft, careful, but completely in control of her body, keeping her languidly afloat in the swirling heat. “This is very nice.”
“Wow.” Her eyes had closed, now opened enough to see the appreciative hunger on his face above her, looking down. “I know I said it before, too many times, but…wow. You look incredible in that suit.”
“Careful. Don’t drool.” She suppressed a giggle.
“No promises on that one.”
“I like the way you look at me. And the way you’re supporting me, with your hands on me like that. So gentle and confident.” It was odd how much she trusted him, how her body relaxed in his care.
“I’m glad you like it, because I can’t help the staring. Sports Illustrated should be ashamed for not having this on its cover. I can see every mouth-watering bit of you, but you’re entirely covered.”
“Mouth-watering, huh? That explains the drool.”
“You explain any drooling. I mean it. You look – and feel – so good.”
“Yes, I do. Now make me feel even better, handsome.”
“You got it. Let me float you over here. Feel the steps? Rest your head here. You can use your hands and hold on if you want. I’ll support your lower body. Like this.”
“Like that is good.” It was also good to be able to relax like this, letting him move her, position her with such easy confidence. Even when he guided her legs wider apart, easing his shoulders between her open thighs.
“So. Is this the spot your nipples were talking about?” The kiss was light, warm, lingering.
“Uhh! Mmm. Yeah. That’s the spot alright.”
“My god. It’s perfect. I can see every…you just shaved, didn’t you?”
“Nope.” This giggle escaped.
“Oh, come on.”
“Come? On? I’d like to. You have no idea how ready I am, if you’d back up your promises.”
“Such a horny girl.”
“You got that right. Didn’t they warn you?”
“Quit asking me questions. I need to start…”
“Oh, baby. Yesss.” Should she call a man ‘baby’ on their first date? If it was this man, and it helped encourage him to keep at what he was doing, hell yes.
“…Showing…” Each pause was accompanied by the most delightful of sensations, made somehow more intense by the thin spandex barrier between them and his earlier confession of how sexy he found her suit.
“Just like that.” She whispered it to herself, up into the steamy air.
“…Your beautiful…”
“And like that.”
“…Sexy…”
“Uh-huh. Right there. Yeah. Uh-huh.” The dragon roared into fiery life, the maelstrom erupted, firing electric bolts out from her center with enough energy to start her spine, her limbs to begin a deep, unstoppable shudder, a vibration beyond her control.
“…Nipples how right they were.”
“Oh. Fuck. Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh my fucking god yes!” This was no whisper. This was a hoarse cry verging closer to a scream.
His grip on her body tightened, keeping her thrashing hips sealed to him. “That’s it. Cum for me…while I….taste your…hot…sexy…cum. That’s it. Yes. Yes.”
The shudders had taken over, her body near convulsions. He held her afloat, guided her into his embrace, letting her body slide into place, close against his own. Hands stroked her back, her hair. “It’s okay. I got you. There. Let me hold you. You okay, beautiful?”
It took a moment to gather the wherewithal to answer. “Okay? At least. ‘Wow’ really is the word of the day. I knew I was close, but I had no idea I was close to…that. You float my boat, Mr. Marco.”
“And the little man in it.”
“Naughty boy.” She found the ability to control her own body returning, tucked her cheek in close against his marvelous chest, allowing one leg to curl over his lap.
“At your service.”
Her leg had found something. “On that subject, it feels like you could use some service of your own down here.” Something hard and stiff and trapped inside a too-tight waterpolo suit.
“Unfortunately, any servicing I get through this suit is going to be more torture than relief. And rules are rules, so the suit has to stay on. For this date.”
“I could reach inside like this.” She did, wrapping fingers as far as she could around him. His groan answered, encouraged her. “You’re still covered.”
He sucked in a ragged breath before replying.” That is true.”
“Feel good?”
“Quite.”
“Even with your suit on? Not torture?”
“No. It’s not quite torture. But I don’t think I can…”
“Sh. Sit up here on the edge, out of the water.” Now it was her hands, guiding, positioning him. “Yeah. It’s a better angle if I can kneel between your legs.”
“Better view too. You look like a goddess. Fuck. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
“This?”
“Yes. That. My god.”
“God-dess. That’s god-dess.”
“Yes, goddess. Yes. I think…you might…”
“I know…I might.”
“Wait. Hey! Why did you stop?”
“Patience, big boy. It’s time for a little lubrication. We can’t have you all chafed tomorrow, all exposed for the world to see.” She gathered as much saliva as she could, coating her fingers.
“Or for our third date.”
The slickened fingers found him again, spread their magic. “Now. How’s that feel?”
“Oh fuck. This feels better. Much better. Good thing you’re the drooler now.”
“This is spit, not drool. Let’s get a little more.” She did. “Make you nice and slippery, even up here around this big fat head.”
“Oh my sweet sweet goddess, yes.”
“You like?”
“Uh-huh.” The strain across his brow, the rapid rise and fall of his chest fed her like a drug.
“Not torture?” She squeezed fingers lower, dragging her grip upward until a warm, thick leak escaped him, adding to the lubrication.
“Nooo…” Her own breaths were not enough air for here, enthralled by the power she had over this magnificent man.
“Do you feel the goddess’ ecstasy coming upon you?”
“Oh yes! I’m…close.” Gritted teeth seemed reluctant to let him speak.
“You gonna give the goddess your offering? She wants it.”
“So, so close.” Another leak. Her fingers spread the wealth, covering him with the slipperiness. His moan was little more than a vibration, barely audible, but loaded with meaning.
Words came to her, surprising her with their boldness. “You know you get to see this body naked tomorrow, don’t you? You do. I feel it. You want to fuck this hot body, don’t you? It’s okay, you don’t need to answer. Just think about me, all wet for you. Think about every inch of this hot bod exposed to the sun, with no sunscreen. We might need to leave early so you can apply aloe lotion all over me. Over every sacred inch of your goddess. We could call that our third date.”
He was panting, open-mouthed. His eyes were lost, focused on something far beyond the room’s ceiling. Her fingers kept a constant pumping rhythm. “Maybe I’ll pull on this tight swimsuit again, over my sunburn, just so you can strip me out of it.”
“Uhh!” Yes. He was ready.
“You could leave it on me, then shove it aside, tear it off me.”
So ready.
“And we.” Pump.
“Could go.” Pump.
“Way. Too. Far.”
“Uhh! Uhh!”
“Oh yeah. Shoot into my hand, big boy. Into this sexy suit of yours. Just like I want you pumping inside me tomorrow. Yeah. Just. Like. That. So strong.”
It was her turn to sooth a shuddering body, reveling in the chance to smooth her hands over him, calming him while claiming her stake to the territory she explored.
His tension eased, releasing a long sigh.
“Wow. Once again, it’s the word that fits.”
“I hope this fits.” A single finger traced his length, still imposing even as it relaxed.
“I can’t wait to try. Tomorrow you say, with lotion?”
“I don’t want to wait until Sunday, do you, and then rush things so we can make our flights?”
“I’m already praying for a bright sunny morning. With lots of UV rays. Maybe a new hole in the ozone.”
“Praying to your goddess?”
“No. I worship the goddess in a different way. She better get a good night’s sleep tonight, because I plan on wearing her out with my worship.”
“Promise?”
“I’ll give it my all.”
“I hope I can sleep tonight.”
“Nervous about your blind date?”
“Yeah. That’s it. That and all the things I want to do with you.”
“Soon. Not soon enough, but soon. And don’t forget: no sunscreen in the morning.”
As they’d talked, two bodies had eased up and out of the tub, dripping water. Two sets of hands were suddenly timid, reluctant to lose contact.
“I won’t.” How could she, with a third date on the line?
“Do you have any baby oil? That’s supposed to magnify the rays.” He was grinning again, following while she gathered her clothes from the bathroom. She resisted the urge to kiss the smile, knowing it could quickly spin out of control.
She pouted up at him instead. “Do you want me to really burn?”
“There’s that laugh again. I could get addicted to it. I gotta know one more thing though: did you really not shave?” Avoiding nudity before tomorrow, she tugged jeans and T over her damp swimsuit. It was dressed enough for the short walk back to her room. Her bra she could carry.
“Nope. Brazilian. Waxed not shaved.”
“Mmm. Tricky girl. And extra smooth.”
“I might let you sample just how smooth.” She slipped out the door, reluctantly leaving him standing alone, looking delicious, still in nothing but his speedo. A speedo that she knew contained a serious mess, and one she wouldn’t mind cleaning up for him if she wasn’t positive that would take them both way too far.
“Until then, sir, thank you so much for a truly memorable first date. I look forward to ‘meeting’ you in the morning.”