Struggling to speak in what I desperately hope will be a normal voice and putting a *yes, mom I’m happy posing with the family for the thirtieth time here at Walt Disney World* smile on my face and reply, “I’m fine, just a little tired, the boys kept me busy.”
“Oh, yeah, they’ll do that won’t they,” he laughed, the vibrant sound of his sudden joy sending a strange thrill through my already far too sensitive body. I quickly stifle a moan and feign a small cough to cover any noise I may have just made.
“Are you OK?” I fume, silently. “OK? No! No, I’m not OK, you’re sitting thirty centimeters away without a shirt on, I’m just fine, yup, that’s me, miss cool as a cucumber, not trembling at all, not me, nope.”
I glance down, wondering if he can notice the arousal that feels so very apparent in my nipples, hotly aching against a bra that for some reason feels too tight; if I could I’d rip it off and yeet it across the room.
He’s been driving me crazy for weeks, this guy who doesn’t seem to notice I even exist, well, at least until recently, I, um, think. His hair a crazed dark mess spilled carelessly over his slim shoulders, eyes grey and deep yet distant, a shy smile often upon his face, he haunted dreams dark and full of things I’d never done yet craved.
And now he walks in the room without a shirt like we’re at the beach?? I’m going to faint! I feel hot, dizzy, my mouth is dry, oh fuck, stop looking you silly girl!
I shake my head and try to refocus, mumbling something about juice. He rises, then returns with two glasses and a jug of orange juice, pours, and hands me a glass.
“Thank you,” I weakly gasp, then moan but swiftly stifle it as he gently brushes his fingers along my forearm, “It’s OK, this will help,” he says, glancing at me with a brief look I can’t identify as he hears the squeak I uncontrollably utter. I spill at least a third of the juice onto the coffee table, and feel my face flush hotly as I grab for a box of tissue to clean it up.
He laughs again, saying, “They really got you worked up didn’t they? I always want to throw at least one of them out the nearest window.”
I giggle, not at that, well, not entirely at that, mostly at the fact that apparently my flustered appearance about HIM is going unnoticed by the very person responsible for my being nearly breathless and confused.
The only thing I want to throw is you, onto my bed, so I can…� Oh, shut up, are you trying to drive yourself mad? He really has no clue what he’s doing to me? Wow! Oh, good, he’s not looking at me.
– – – CHAPTER 2
I idly wonder if I can give myself a quick cum in the washroom, I need to relax! Fuck, this is crazy, why can’t stop thinking about him???
He stretches his body like a cat, arching his back, groaning as his legs extend, from a long afternoon working at the hardware store.
I swallow another moan, trying not to stare, does he really have no idea what he is doing to me, the cutest guy in my program sitting close enough to touch me???
I excuse myself and walk, I hope, steadily, to the washroom and do not, repeat, do *not* play with myself despite thinking afterwards it was probably a *really really* good idea after all considering what awaits me upon my return.
As I return I see he is, um, wait, what?!, um, removing his jeans?? OMFG, what? Oh, he’s wearing swimming shorts. Um, he’s going swimming? oh, they have a pool, don’t they?
I sit, tucking my feet back, relaxing into the cushions, knowing the cat stretch is pushing my full breasts against the fabric of my blouse. He wants to parade around in swim shorts? Two can play that game, I turn away from him and undo two buttons, then lay back again. it isn’t long before I notice him noticing. I smile mischievously and his eyes snap away from my cleavage. Got you!
He then surprises me so much with his words that I’m grateful I’ve just used the washroom, I might have peed myself had he brought it up beforehand!
“Hey,” he says in a silky drawl that makes me shiver, “Do you want to hop in the pool or hot tub?”
OMG? Is he serious? I swallow a gulp, and take a hopefully subtle deep breath, and do my best to reply.
“I, um, don’t have a bathing suit here,” I say, cursing myself for the lack of foresight. “I, um, can’t. Sorry, I’d like to.”
He says casually, “You’re about a size six aren’t you? I’m presure there’s a six in the change room.”
*Size six, how did he possibly know that? oh, right, he’s going into fashion at university next year, you silly girl! OK, you can do this, it’s just a swim. Isn’t it*
“Oh, OK,” I answer brightly, “What about the twins?”
“Oh, we can monitor their room on the house system,” he said, pointing to the iPad on the coffee table.
“Oh, OK.”
– – – CHAPTER 3
We walk to the pool area along a long brightly carpeted hallway, tall windows showing the floodlit gardens outside in the last light of the summer setting sun. A small cottontail is nibbling on some harrow, I stop him to point this out and we watch silently for a long moment. He gently rests a warm hand on my bare shoulder, and I try not to flinch.
“We get a lot of bunnies,” he explained, “they love the kitchen veggie scraps, see?”
He pointed to a small pile of carrot and cabbage shavings where another small rabbit with one slightly bent ear was eating.
“Cute!” I exclaim, “ooooooooh!”
“That’s cat chaser, he’s been around almost the longest this year.”
“Cat chaser?”
“Oh, our new kitten, Meowington, had never seen a bunny before and when she saw cat chaser it2 hopped towards her, curious, and the kitten ran back into the house.”
I begin giggling, “That’s so cute! A kitten chasing bunny!”
Suddenly the rabbits vanish in a flash of white fluffy tails. “Probably a hawk overhead,” he says.
We enter the large change room, well lit and divided into two areas by a long thick curtain open a bit at both ends.
He takes me into one side, showing me a selection of suits, many still in their bags. I thank him and he turns, and before exiting through a door onto the pool area, he asks, “I’m going to get us some drinks while you change, it’s orange juice you like isn’t it, extra pulp and cold as possible?”
*Oh wow, he remembered that?*
“Yes, thank you!” He disappears through the door,� calling out, “You can lock it from behind for privacy.”
I hear his footsteps fade, and begin sorting through the possibilities. I find, faster than I expect, a two piece dark red suit in a shimmering fabric that hugs my figure daringly. I pause, momentarily, take a deep breath, and leave.
I enter the pool area just in time to see him return with a jug of juice and a bowl on a tray, which he sets down on a small table. He inquires if we should swim or use the hit tub first. I suggest hot tub after because the pool will seem cold after being in the hot tub and he agrees.
We both sit side by side on the edge of the pool, getting our legs accustomed to the water. He glances at my bathing suit with a tantalizing look I can’t identify in his eyes, saying it’s a nice colour for me. His eyes find mine and I get instantly lost, for who know how long.
I mumble a thank you and to break the tension, lower my body into the water and leisurely kick out, pushing myself out into the pool. He follows
me, diving deep, and meets me on the other side, popping up from beneath the water, shaking the water from his hair in a natural motion that takes my breath away.
I put an arm on the pool’s edge, facing him. I deliberately avoid his gaze, not wanting a repeat of what just happened. He seems to notice and, like two children, we make a lingering game of trying to *not* look into each other’s eyes until, of course, we do, and collapse, giggling together.
– – – CHAPTER 4
*The next moment lasts an eternity, for we *do* find each other’s eyes, and a scene from a Disney Animated Feature ensues, in slow motion and 3D AVX surround sound I’ll not soon forget.
The slow move towards each other, the widening glistening eyes, the… Oh, who am I kidding, nothing like that happened, he swam out into the pool, still chuckling, leaving me to regain my composure, thankfully.*
I adjust my suit, the top keeps slipping down, an annoyance but a little bit of a thrill too. I don’t often wear a bikini.
I follow him and we proceed to leisurely swim around the perimeter of the pool until, after a spell, we again rest against the edge of the pool.
His voice, suddenly husky and trembling, startles me. “Um, you might want to, um…”
He points down and I see, to my shock, the left cup of my bikini has slipped away fully, my breast on shameless display, and quickly fix it, my face feeling heated in embarrassment. I idly wonder how long it’s been like that. Oops.
I Iook up and he’s studiously looking away, which makes me feel a pang of gratefulness towards him. I’m sure any other boy would be staring openly.
“Thanks,” I rasp, “Um, sorry.”
“It’s OK, I guess it can happen. You, um, might want to use the diving board, my sister says it always makes girls topless.”
I giggle, picturing a bunch of brightly coloured bikini tops floating on top of the pool.
“Yeah, it can make you lose your shorts if you’re not careful,” he continues, “It’s happened to me a few times.”
My eyes widen as I imagine� � �…something.⁰
Desperate to change the topic I ask him if we can have juice. We get out of the pool and sit at a small table, sip juice and chat.
I study him carefully as he sits in a languid pose, one arm dangling down, his long legs stretched out, his shorts…
*OK, do not stare!* I look around the pool, enjoying how the light reflects off the water, spending tiny reflections dancing everywhere, the high glass ceiling, the ferns, his pale firm chest…
*”Oh, fuck. I said stop staring, you’re going to make yourself so wet he’ll see!*
“Um,” I ask, “So, um, can I ask you something?”
He turns to me, and I continue nervously, “Ah, um, you don’t, don’t look at me like the other boys, Don’t you like me?”
Involuntarily my eyes well with unwanted tears, and I look down, red-faced. I’m trembling, and suddenly I’m dizzy.