It was a Friday night in early June, and I was alone in my apartment. I was only two years out of college and often had a date set up on Friday or Saturday, but it had been a hectic week and so on this particular evening I was looking forward to a quiet weekend by myself. That is, until the phone rang. It was my older sister, asking me for a big favor.
She had agreed to be a chaperone at her daughter's first-grade beach picnic the next day, but she had just come down with some sort of stomach bug and was sick in bed. Chaperones canceling at the last minute were always a big headache for the school staff, so she wanted to know if I could take her place.
Now baby-sitting for a large bunch of rambunctious, noisy 6-year-olds is normally the last thing a guy in my situation would volunteer to do, but I didn't have any commitments for Saturday, and this was after all my own niece we were talking about, so I said yes. My sister filled me in on the details: The lake was only 10 minutes from the school, so instead of putting the kids on a bus, the parents were going to drop them off right at the lake in the morning and pick them up there in the afternoon. The job of the chaperones was simple, she explained, just try to keep the normal excitement of first-graders at the beach from turning into complete chaos, and make sure nobody drowned. "Yea, right, a piece of cake," I thought. My brother-in-law had to work a half-day Saturday, which is why he wasn't being drafted for the job, but he would at least drop off and pick up my niece to save me the extra driving.
The next morning dawned clear and warm. I put on my swim trunks, plus sunscreen and a heavy T-shirt to ward off sunburn, made myself a lunch, grabbed a couple big beach towels, and drove to the lake at the appointed time. An older woman named Mrs. Miller was in charge, and I do mean in charge. Though she looked like a grandmother, she reminded me more of a drill sergeant, but I have to give her credit: the whole event was far more organized than I had been expecting, and everything ran quite smoothly all day.
Each parent chaperone was assigned to work with one teacher or aide for the whole day, and each child was assigned to one of these teams, also for the whole day. Each team of two adults thus had about 10 kids to keep track of, which was manageable. I got lucky and was paired up with a really cute student teacher named Cindy. She was in her early 20's, with an average build, nicely rounded figure, and short bobbed blond hair.
I told her my name was Jim, but before there was any time for small talk our kids were assigned to us. As soon as the group was complete, we led them to the water, laid down the law about sticking close to us, and let them go in. There was a floating lane marker at the three foot depth, so all we really had to do was keep them all on the side toward shore and make sure the boys didn't dunk anybody. The shallow lake was so warm we didn't even need to worry about the little ones getting cold.
Cindy and I removed our shoes and took up stations in the water where we could watch everyone. Like many of the adults she had not worn a swimsuit. Instead she had on an attractive light blue and white print short-sleeved button-front top and matching drawstring-waist shorts, so she took the position closest to shore. Since I did have a swimsuit on, I hung out in the deeper water next to the lane marker, which made it easy to notice if any kids tried to cross the boundary.
A few of the boys eventually got a water fight going, and I ended up right in the middle of the action. It didn't bother me at all, in fact it was starting to get hot so it felt good to get my T-shirt wet, but then the commotion moved into shallower water and Cindy got caught in a bit of cross-fire as well. She didn't seem to mind the slight wetting, instead she just shooed the kids away from her, then smiled at me and shrugged.
After an hour or two, the children had worked off their initial exuberance. Most of them switched to building sand castles at the water's edge, which made them a lot easier to keep track of. One of the boys asked me to teach him to float, so I started him on a back float in about a foot of water, then gradually moved out into deeper water as he gained confidence. When the others saw how quickly he caught on, four more kids asked me to teach them, too.
By having them take turns I could handle two, but four would be a bit much, so Cindy said she would teach, too. We started in very shallow water as before, waiting until all the kids were comfortable there, and then went deeper. Her shorts were quite short, so she managed to keep them relatively dry until it was time to let the kids try floating at the final depth, which would be almost up to Cindy's waist.
"Do you have a swimsuit?" I asked her.
"It's at home," she laughed. "I guess I should have worn it, but I hadn't planned to swim, and I didn't want to sunburn."
It just about killed me to do it, but I was a gentleman and offered, "If you want, I can take all four out here."
"That's sweet of you, Jim," she replied, "but the kids would have to spend too much time waiting. It's all right, I knew I might not stay completely dry today." She walked toward me, and as the water reached her shorts and rose up over them, she added, smiling, "though I didn't expect to get quite this wet. At least the water's warm."
This turned me on, of course, but while we were teaching the four kids to float, we also had to simultaneously keep an eye on the castle-builders, so there was only time for an occasional furtive but admiring glance at my cute partner. When the lessons were done it was lunch time, so we led our proud new "swimmers" back to shore. Cindy's whole outfit was thin cotton, and as she walked into shallower water, her soaked shorts clung to her bottom so nicely it was hard not to stare. The outline of a pair of wet panties underneath was even briefly visible, at least until she tugged on the shorts to make them stop clinging so such. At this point even the sight of her legs excited me, as they looked even better wet than they had dry.
We ate lunch with the kids, then made them wait the obligatory hour before going back in the water. The five we had taught to float bragged about it so much that now the others all wanted to learn how, too, so Cindy and I teamed up to repeat the lessons for the rest. Her shorts had almost dried, but she waded right back out and got them wet again. Every little wave that passed by us lapped at those thin shorts, and the view from the rear was as tantalizing as the view from the front. I was glad I had worn fairly loose-fitting trunks, because I didn't want to have to explain to any first-graders why my anatomy was reacting so enthusiastically to the sight of Cindy's anatomy. Being waist-deep in the lake did nothing to suppress that natural course of events, and in fact the sensation of my wet trunks gently rustling around me in the warm water simply heightened the response.
At the end of the afternoon the parents all showed up more or less on time and picked up their kids, after which all the adults were finally released. Neither Cindy nor I had any place special to go, so I bought her an Italian Ice at the snack stand, and sitting barefoot on the sand we had a chance to really talk for the first time all day. She was a very sweet girl, and I made no secret of the fact that I was interested in her. To my delight, the interest seemed mutual, and when I slipped my hand into hers, she took it willingly.
As we chatted, I remarked, "You know, this is the first time I've ever spent a whole day at the beach without going for a real swim. Would you mind if I did a quick lap out to the diving float and back?"
"Not at all. I wish I'd brought my swimsuit, because I'd love to join you."
"Then join me. You can swim in what you have on."
"I don't know," she replied, looking down at her top and shorts somewhat uncertainly.
"You've gotten your clothes half-wet twice already," I pointed out, "and that's practically the same as all wet once. You'll dry soon enough."
She thought it over for a moment that seemed like forever, then smiled at me and answered, "Oh, all right, why not? Let's go."
We walked to the lake and waded out to waist-deep water, still holding hands, and this time there were no little kiddies to distract me from fully appreciating the sight of the water caressing her shorts as it slowly swallowed them. "I'm glad you asked me to join you," she told me, as we continued to walk deeper, "the water is so nice." I watched her thin cotton top become soaked as it sank gradually below the surface, and I was keen with anticipation as the water approached and then rose over the bra I could tell she was wearing underneath. Finally her feet no longer touched bottom and she started swimming. I swam beside her out to the diving float, and we climbed up onto it.
She was a lovely sight coming up the ladder to the platform. The thin fabric of her outfit was clearly not designed for swimming, but that was ok with me. Both top and bottom clung to her tightly, and she had a figure that was flattered by it. Even her blond hair looked great, cropped so short it stayed neat even as the water streamed off it. She was a little self-conscious at first, and kept tugging at her clothes, but pretty soon she gave up and just let them cling. We dove off the float a few times, and each time we climbed that ladder again I got more excited seeing the distinct outlines of her underwear showing through, until my own trunks became rather revealing as well.
Then we stretched out together on the platform, holding hands again and basking in the gentle, late afternoon sun. She pretended not to notice how obviously my arousal was showing, and I pretended not to notice how little her drenched outfit was hiding, and we had a very nice conversation. We talked so long that we both got nearly dry, but eventually it was time to go. She dove back in first, and I stayed close to her all the way back. As we emerged dripping from the lake and waded up to the shore, her sopping light blue and white outfit clung tightly to her again, telegraphing the shape of her bra and underpants even as it covered them. Water drained from her clothes and ran down her legs, and watching her body move made me hot all over again.
I was determined not to let a woman this nice get away, so I told her, "When I agreed to take my sister's place as a chaperone, I expected it to be a big chore, but you're such good company that I ended up really enjoying it. Thank you for making today so pleasant."
"Thank you, Jim" she replied. "It was fun for me, too. I was lucky to be paired up with you."
"I'd like to see you again. Would you be interested in dinner together sometime?"
"Yes, I'd like that very much. When did you have in mind?"
"Actually," I said, "I'm getting hungry now. If you don't have any plans, we could make it tonight. I know a place near here that's quite informal but has wonderful food."
"That sounds great. I'm getting hungry too, but we'd each better go home and change first. Informal is one thing, but we're both dripping wet and I wouldn't want to leave a puddle in the restaurant." She gave me her phone number and address, and we agreed that I would pick her up an hour later. I took her hand again and walked her back to her car, still admiring the fit of her wet clothing, and she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek as she got in.
I've always believed that goodness and generosity is eventually rewarded, and driving back to my apartment I decided that meeting Cindy must be my reward for agreeing to do my sister such a big favor.
After leaving the beach, I had just enough time to get home, shower and shave, put on a pair of slacks and a polo shirt, and make it to Cindy's place to pick her up. Her short blond hair was already dry, and she had changed into a solid orange short-sleeved top with a scoop neckline and a gathered bust, and a white pleated skirt with a hem a couple inches above her knees. We went to my favorite restaurant, where we devoured a scrumptious meal. Cindy turned out to be as intelligent and well-read as she was sweet and attractive, so the conversation was equally enjoyable. The light in her eyes told me she was drawn to me both mentally and physically, as I was to her, and my hopes for the relationship continued to rise.
After dinner we went for a walk in a nearby park and continued to talk. Soon we were sharing dreams and fears, and it felt like we had known each other and been close for a long time. Since it was midsummer and fairly early it was still broad daylight, but I stopped and kissed Cindy softly on the lips anyway, and she put her arms around me and snuggled into my chest. I returned the gentle embrace, and we stood quietly that way for a moment.
"You look very nice tonight," I told her.
"Thank you," she replied. "I certainly feel more presentable now than in what I was wearing at the picnic." She chuckled and added, "especially after I went swimming in it."
"Don't sell yourself short. I thought you looked really sexy in that outfit at the beach."
She smiled at me knowingly. "I'm glad you liked it, but if my guess is right, you'd have liked to see me in a bikini even better."
"No, actually I wouldn't have. Your shorts and top were much sexier than any skimpy swimsuit."
"Really?" she asked, surprised.
"Yes, at least for me. Sexiness isn't just about exposure. Mystery and anticipation are vital, too. Keeping some of yourself covered left me wanting to see more. Besides, when your wet clothes clung to you, it looked very sensual." I lowered my voice so nobody would overhear. "And in case you hadn't noticed, seeing the outlines of your underwear show through was really turning me on."
She blushed a little. "I noticed."
"Yet much less was actually showing than a bikini would have exposed," I continued. "Erotic appeal isn't a matter of how much skin shows, it's about striking a balance between revealing and concealing. That's why, in my book, wet clothes are actually sexier than swimsuits. They even add a dash of the forbidden, because you're not supposed to get them wet."
She stepped back and looked at me intently without speaking, and I suddenly became embarrassed at how forward I'd been. "I hope you don't think I'm weird now," I said, lowering my eyes and fearing that I'd really blown my chances with her.
"You obviously don't know some of the guys I've met," she laughed. "Don't worry, Jim, you're not even close to weird. I do think you're different from most men, but you're different in ways that I like."
"Oh, good," I said, greatly relieved. "For a minute there, when you didn't say anything, I was afraid I'd scared you away."
"No, just the opposite," she told me, snuggling up to me again, and I held her close and stroked her hair. "I was thinking how nice it is to find a guy for whom eroticism is more subtle than seeing how fast a girl can get naked. And it's even nicer to find someone who isn't just after physical intimacy, but is willing to reveal something about himself and risk some emotional intimacy, too." Then she started to giggle, and I looked at her questioningly. "And you even like kids. My mother would love you," she added, giving us both a good laugh.
We changed the subject back to lighter topics and talked for a while longer, then got in my car and started back to her apartment. Our route took us past the beach, and as we approached it Cindy said, "It's so hot, and it's still light. Do you want to go for another swim?"
"I'd love to, but I didn't bring a swimsuit," I answered.
"I didn't either," she replied, and looked at me mischievously.
"All right, why not?" I said, barely restraining my sudden excitement as I turned into the parking lot. I left my wallet in the car, and we walked onto the sand. The lifeguards were gone for the day so the place was practically deserted. After removing our footwear, we held hands and waded in to foot-deep water, where we stopped for a long kiss. "This isn't quite fair, Cindy," I said. "I've gotten my long pants wet, but all your clothes are still high and dry.
"Of course," she replied with an impish grin. "I didn't say *I* was going for another swim, I just asked if *you* wanted to."
"You sneak!" I cried, grabbing both her hands and pulling her deeper. "You won't get away with that!"
She squirmed and squealed, and as she did so her pleated white skirt swished provocatively around her hips, and her well-proportioned breasts jiggled inside her orange top. "Jim, the water's getting deeper," she laughed, as I backed up, pulling her toward me. "You're going to get my skirt all wet."
"If I get wet, you get wet," I retorted, and continued pulling her further into the lake. When her white pleats hit the water they began to float on the surface, so as the water rose to her waist, most of her skirt followed. Still laughing, she pulled one hand loose to try to control the wayward garment, but with notable lack of success, so she gave that up and began to splash me instead, quickly soaking my shirt. Then she turned her back to me and pulled toward shore, and I let her get back to knee-deep water again. Her white skirt was now soaked and translucent, and I could see her wet white underpants tight on her buttocks. "You're not getting away from me," I said, grabbing her by the waist, and she squealed again as I pulled us both down into the water.
Once we were both completely soaked, I let go of her and we stood up. Her orange top was much darker now, glistening in the warm light of the setting sun, and the texture of a very lacy bra was evident underneath it. Water streamed off her wet hair, and her eyes were aglow. "This is fun," she said breathlessly, "playing in the water and getting all my clothes wet. I feel like a little girl again."
"You're no little girl. You're a very attractive and irresistibly sexy woman, and I think you got wet on purpose because you knew it would turn me on."
"Of course I did," she answered, "and I'm glad that it worked." She gave me a passionate French kiss, and I carried her out to neck-deep water where the lake would hide our hands. We continued to kiss and began to explore each other's bodies, but when my hands reached too far inside her skirt she stopped me.
"Wait," she said, "I want you too, and I really like this, but we're going a little too fast for a first date."
"How about on a second date?" I asked.
"A second date might be different," she ventured.
"Then we'd better make one right now," I replied. "How about an early movie tomorrow? Say, about 5 O'clock?"
"I'll be ready," she said. We spent the next few minutes kissing and caressing, but then it finally started to get dark. "They'll be closing the park soon," she reminded me. "We'd better leave before then." We waded back to the sandy beach, retrieved our shoes, and returned to my car. I hadn't unloaded the beach towels yet, so we spread them on the seats. Just before she got in, I grabbed her and held her close for another kiss. Our tongues met, and my hands squeezed her backside through her wet skirt and panties. Then we jumped into the car and drove out, just as a police car pulled up to lock the park gates.
"I'm glad we got out before he got here," Cindy said. "That officer would have really wondered what we were doing if he saw us coming out of the water in all our clothes."
"No," I laughed, "I don't think he would have."
The day after the school picnic and our first date, I called Cindy at least twice to talk to her. That made it pretty obvious that I was crazy about her, but I wanted her to know that, and she didn't seem to mind the attention a bit. Then at 5:00 PM I picked her up at her place and we went to see an early movie. She wore a striking dress of smooth material that looked like silk, a rich royal blue with little white polka-dots, short-sleeved, and short but modest. The material was thin, and it was cut so that where the hem hung free it swished and swayed, but where it was more snug it followed her every move sensuously. When I put my arm around her, it felt smooth and slippery. In other words, it was extremely sexy.
We both enjoyed the movie - and even watched parts of it in between necking. As we left the theater and headed back to my car I jokingly mentioned that this would be the first time we'd spent time together and stayed dry.
"You're right," she replied. "Everything I've ever worn with you is hanging in my shower, underwear and all. I guess we both just love water." Then she gave me an innocent look. "Of course, we don't have to stay dry if we don't want to; the beach is open Sundays, too." I was caught off guard, and looked at her very surprised. "I'm game if you are," she challenged.
"Are you serious?" I asked.
She smiled. "Well, I was joking when I said it, but now that I think about it, it's still warm, and the beach is lovely in the evening. Since neither of us have swimsuits with us, we don't have to actually swim. We could sit on the sand and watch the sunset, or maybe just stick our feet in without getting anything else wet."
"Fat chance of that. You know perfectly well that if we stick our feet in, pretty soon we'll want to wade a little, and then we'll go a little deeper, and one thing will lead to another. Now, given our past history, what do you think your chances are of getting back to dry land before that gorgeous dress of yours gets all soaking wet?"
She laughed. "Ok, I'll admit they'd be slim to none."
"You must have to dry-clean that silk, and it's so pretty I'd hate to ruin it."
"I'll let you in on a secret." She whispered in my ear, "It's not really silk. It's synthetic, and it's washable." Then she added in a sultry voice, "and so is the slip I'm wearing under it." She paused, and looked directly into my eyes. "Besides, I've noticed the special way you look at me when I get my clothes wet, and I like it. I like it a lot, and I want you to look at me that way again tonight."
I gulped. "The beach isn't far. If we go right now we can have some time there before it closes."
"Then let's get going."
We drove straight to the beach, left our shoes in the car, and walked barefoot onto the sand. "Did you remember to leave your wallet in the car?" she asked.
"No, you've got me so excited I forgot all about it," I replied, flustered. "I'll be right back." I ran back to the car, put the wallet where it would stay dry, and returned quickly. "Cindy," I said, taking her in my arms, "you're so good to me. Tell me what I've done to deserve you, so I can keep on doing it."
"It's simple," she said, returning my embrace and pressing her body close to mine, "you're good to me."
"What do you mean?"
"You know, you listen to me, I mean not just politely but really listening and valuing my ideas and opinions. You're willing to share vulnerable parts of yourself with me instead of pretending to be all macho. And little things, too, like you're not afraid to hold my hand and give me an affectionate kiss in public."
"I just thought that was the normal way to behave with someone you care about."
"It is normal, but it's not common. You're a real catch, Jim, and I intend to keep you."
"That's just what I was thinking about you."
"And there's another way you're good to me. You have a healthy sex drive, which I like, but you keep things in balance. For example, last night when I needed to set a limit, you listened. It was really me who was a little out of line, because I'd deliberately tempted you and gotten you all worked up, but instead of getting mad, you respected my needs, and made it clear that you still liked being with me."
We shared a long kiss, and I luxuriated in the feel of her warm body under her silky dress. The material was so smooth and thin that I could feel her underwear as my hands slid across her back and down to her buttocks, and I got aroused again. "Come on," she said, "let's go down to the water before it gets dark."
We walked into the lake until it almost reached the hem of her dress. Only the legs of my pants were wet, and all Cindy's clothes were still dry, but I was already very turned on. I put my arms around her again and asked, "Are you going to tempt me again?"
"That's exactly what I'm going to do."
I took a deep breath. "It won't be easy, but if you need to set a limit again, I'll do my best to respect it."
"Tonight my needs are different. I'm not going to tease you with anything you can't have." She smiled at me warmly and ran her hands lightly across my chest. "Just tell me what you want."
"I want to see you get wet, and I want you to do it in just what you have on right now." I ran my fingertips over her dress, luxuriating in the slick feel of the silky fabric. "I want you to get completely, totally, sopping wet. But do it slowly, a little bit at a time."
She backed away from me a couple of feet, and looked into my eyes, grinning. "Ok, but you know this isn't a bathing suit I'm wearing; it's not even close. It's a thin summer dress and it was never intended for swimming. It's just barely decent when it's dry, so I don't know what will happen when I get it wet." She paused. "And my underwear's going to get all soaked, too," she added, running her hands over her dress, lightly brushing her breasts and her crotch. "I really shouldn't do this." Then, still smiling at me, she slowly bent her legs to dip the bottom of her dress into the lake. "Oh, this feels so wicked. Does watching me turn you on?" I nodded, and she stood up again. "Is it clinging the way you like?"
"Oh, yea," I said, starting to breathe heavily. The bottom of the dress, which had been swinging free a moment ago, was now plastered to her legs.
"My slip must have gotten wet, too. How does that look?" she asked, peeling up the wet front of her dress a few inches to expose a dark blue nylon slip underneath. It too was stuck tightly to her legs.
Heavenly," I answered. "Are your underpants still dry?"
"So far. Shall I do something about that?" I nodded. "This is so naughty," she said, slowly squatting down to let her waist sink below the surface. "I can feel the warm water inside my panties." When she stood again, the whole bottom half of her dress was a darker blue that clung snugly to every curve of her hips and legs, and water streamed off her hem.
"Now it's your turn. Those pants look pretty thin," she observed. "I'd like to see you get them wet." I sat down on the sandy bottom, loving the feel of the lake water rushing into my slacks and boxers, then stood up again.
"Not bad," she smiled, "I like the way it clings to your things." I looked down, and there wasn't any doubt that I was enjoying the evening.
I pulled her close again, and stroked her back. "It feels like you're wearing a bra under your slip," I said.
"I am. It's the only clothing I have left that isn't wet." I just grinned. She sat down in shallower water, then leaned back and dunked the back of her dress. "Is this better?" she asked, turning so I could see.
"Yes, your straps are all showing. I can't wait to see you soak the rest." She turned back toward me, smiled and leaned forward to dunk the front of her dress, then stood up. "Oh, much better," I said. "That's just what you needed."
"I'll bet your white shirt would look better wet, too."
I lay down in the water and got up again.
"It does," she said. "I love the way it shows off your hairy chest." She ran her hands over the front of my shirt and kissed my hands, my neck, and my cheeks. Then she backed away, drenched herself completely underwater, and stood up to let me admire her again.
"You can't imagine how sexy you are," I said. "Seeing you in that dripping, clinging, shiny, thin dress with the outlines of your soaking wet underwear showing through is making me incredibly hot for you. And knowing you did it on purpose is driving me wild."
"Good," she said. "That's what was supposed to happen." She waited a moment, then added, "Well don't just stand there. If you like what you see, come and get it. I promised no teasing tonight."
I lunged toward her, and she laughed and ran out into the lake, making it to neck-deep water before I caught her. We embraced and when I caressed her breasts through her clothes, she responded with a long, hot kiss. She began to explore my neck and ears with her tongue, and my hands massaged her back, wandering slowly downward until they reached her buttocks. When I started to hike up her dress and slip, she just rubbed her body against me, and when my hands at last reached her underpants, she wrapped her legs around my waist. Being mostly submerged made it easy to hold her up, and as I massaged her butt and stroked her thighs, she told me not to stop. We rocked in unison, and soon my fingers were inside the back of her panties, probing ever further toward the front. After a few minutes she gasped and squeezed me hard as she climaxed, then relaxed in my arms.
After a moment to catch her breath, she said "That's one more way you're good to me. Is there anything I can do for you?" Without waiting for an answer, she started rubbing the bulge in my trousers. She soon had them unzipped and slid her hands inside my boxers. The build-up had been so long and she was so sexy that I soon exploded from her gentle but insistent touch.
We both stayed in the water, in each other's arms, kissing and caressing, for as long as we dared, then went back to the car and again got out of the park just before it closed. When we got back to her apartment, she told me, "Jim, I really want to invite you in tonight," then paused and took a deep breath. "But it's Sunday and if I do neither of us will ever make it to work tomorrow, so you'd better just drop me off. You'll call me soon?"
"Nothing could stop me. There's no way I'm letting you get away. I just have one question: Did you expect to go swimming when you picked out what you were going to wear on our date tonight?"
"A girl never knows what will happen on a second date," she said, and got out of the car. Then, as she was walking away, she turned and added "Or on a third."