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| D1 - Irresistable | D2 - Impatient | D3 - Inevitable | D4 - Impulsive | D5 - Ignipotent | D6 - Impudent |
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| D1 - Irresistable | D2 - Impatient | D3 - Inevitable | D4 - Impulsive | D5 - Ignipotent | D6 - Impudent |
My name is Ken, and for a few months I'd been dating Debbie, a beautiful, short, slim, Asian girl with straight, shoulder-length black hair. We were hitting it off really well and had decided weeks ago to make our relationship exclusive. We weren't rushing things, but it was clear we were falling in love, and it seemed that on every date we kept getting closer both emotionally and physically. It was the beginning of summer, and she was house-sitting for a vice-president at her job who was overseas for a few weeks with her family. The house had a tennis court, a big pool and a hot tub surrounded by a large patio, one of those ridiculous outdoor umbrella tables, and even a big weatherproof mattress to sunbathe on. It was so much nicer than either of our apartments, we had decided to just spend this Friday evening watching a rented video there. We were both wearing cut-offs, I had on a white polo shirt, and she had on a red T-shirt.
We had chosen a romantic and somewhat erotic movie, and after watching it we were now necking on the couch. It was a hot night, and we were both getting hotter by the minute.
I started massaging her neck and shoulders, which I already knew she really liked. After a few minutes, I moved on to her scalp and face, and then did her arms. She sighed and said it was turning her on, so I asked her if there were any other places she would enjoy being massaged.
"Yes, but I'm not sure I should tell you," she replied. "Would you take advantage of knowing where I like it best?" Her eyes were sparkling.
"Well, I hadn't planned to," I answered, "but if you insist ..."
She laughed. "How can I turn down an offer like that? My feet. I'll just about melt if you rub my feet and ankles."
"Would you like to melt?"
"In your hands, that's exactly what I'd like."
I immediately slipped off her shoes, lifted her legs up onto the couch, sat down on the floor, and started working on her feet. Being very patient, I made sure to spend plenty of time on each one. From the little noises she kept making, I could tell this was really having an effect. Once I was sure her soles, toes, arches, heels, and ankles had been thoroughly done, I slowly worked up her calves, stroking gently but firmly, caressed her knees, and finally stopped only when my fingers had worked their way up her thighs and probed under the edges of her cut-offs. Her breathing was getting heavier, and so was mine.
"Mmmmmm, " she said, "that was wonderful. Now it's your turn. What's your special wish tonight?"
"I'm not sure I should tell you. If I do, I'll be putty in your hands, powerless to defy your charms. Would you take advantage of knowledge like that?"
She gave me a mischievous grin. "I promise to."
"Oh, that's unfair, now I can't resist telling you." Returning the grin, I gazed at her for a minute, then out at the pool, then back at her. "It's hot tonight," I began, "and that cool water out in the pool looks awfully tempting. Like a lot of guys I'm turned on by the visual, and I've been thinking about how sexy you'd look out there, with the water glistening on your skin and running off your hair. If you wore the right swimsuit, a little time together in the pool just might get me even hotter instead of cooling me off."
She stroked my cheeks and looked into my eyes. "Would you like to get even hotter?"
"If it's you providing the heat, absolutely."
"We might be able to arrange that. I have a couple swimsuits here. What type would you like to see me in?"
"Well," I told her, "I really have a thing for swim-dresses. I love their feminine look, the way they reveal and conceal at the same time, the way their flirty skirts tease the eye, and the way they cling when they're wet. Black is always sexy, but you'd look irresistible in any color swim-dress at all."
She frowned and sounded disappointed. "All I have at this house is a one-piece and a bikini." She thought for a moment. "I don't have any swim-dresses at all, either here or back at my own apartment, and it's too late to even go buy one. I'm sorry. I'd love to grant your wish, but I can't."
"Don't give up so easily. If you really want to have a swim-dress, you probably can. Right here and now. You just have to think `out of the box.'"
She looked puzzled, but intrigued. "I don't understand. What do you mean?"
"Look at it this way," I explained, "You have some of your summer clothes at this house, right?"
"Yes, quite a few of them in fact. It's more convenient to keep them here while I'm house-sitting."
"Does that include any casual, wash-and-wear dresses?"
"Sure. I wear those a lot, so I have half a dozen different ones here. They're very comfortable on hot days."
"Well," I continued, "Let's say you had one of them on tonight, and you decided to wear it into the pool for a swim."
"But those aren't swim-dresses," she objected, "They're not made to get wet."
"Of course they are. Every time you wash one it gets wet. What difference does it make if you happen to be wearing it at the time?"
"Now you're being goofy," she giggled.
"On the contrary, I'm being quite logical. In my dictionary, any dress you swim in is a swim-dress. Doesn't that make sense?"
"Somehow you're making it sound reasonable," she laughed, "though I certainly never thought of it that way before."
"I have. And with this definition, you can easily wear a swim-dress tonight, if you want to. You have half a dozen different choices hanging in your closet right now." I took her hand and stroked her hair. "I'll bet you'd look fantastic after a swim in any one of them." She blushed. "And since the water won't hurt them," I continued, "there's really no reason not to."
"Except that I'd feel awfully silly getting into the pool with my clothes on." She thought for a moment, then tentatively added, "But I guess there'd be no harm in it."
"No harm at all," I agreed. "After all, being silly is a major part of flirting." I made eyes at her and added conspiratorially, "And you know how much we're both enjoying our flirting tonight." She poked me, laughing. She was clearly considering my request, but something was still holding her back. "You don't look quite convinced yet," I said, and waited for her to respond.
"I want to grant your special wish," she replied, stroking my chest, "but I'm afraid a soggy summer dress won't look nearly as good on me as the sleek, snug, nylon swim-dress you must have had in mind. After you gave me such a nice massage, I'd hate to disappoint you by looking bedraggled instead of sexy. Wouldn't you rather wait and pick out a real swim-dress for me to buy tomorrow? The pool will still be here, and so will I."
I held her close and whispered in her ear. "I need to tell you a secret. You must have seen fashion photos where a model gets wet wearing something other than a swimsuit." She nodded. "Well, I'm a sucker for them. To me, nothing looks more enticing on an attractive woman than drenched clothing. It clings so sensuously, it tantalizes by leaving something to the imagination, and most of all it feels a little naughty to get something wet that you're not supposed to. You're an attractive woman, you'd look great in the water, and I'm hot for you right now, tonight."
"That's really what you want?"
"Let me put it this way: When I first asked you to put on a swim-dress and join me in the pool, I was actually hoping you wouldn't have one, because that would give you an excuse to get soaking wet for me in a regular dress."
"Oh, I see," she said, smiling with new understanding. "You had this all planned from the beginning."
"Yes, I did," I confessed. "Now you know everything, and I'm at your mercy. Please be gentle with me." I kissed her softly on the cheek.
She laid her head on my shoulder and snuggled up close, deep in thought. Then she looked at me with a playful expression and protested with mock seriousness, "There is one little problem: what about my modesty? Thin summer fabric can be pretty revealing when it gets wet, not to mention what will happen if a loose skirt starts drifting up. `Real' swim-dresses have built-in bottoms and linings sewn inside the top to prevent any, shall we say, overexposure. My regular dresses don't, so if I simply put on one of those as if it were a swim-dress, and wear it into the pool for you, a lot is going to show that shouldn't." She sounded like she might not mind having a lot show.
"A swimsuit is designed to be worn alone," I replied. "A regular dress isn't, not even when it's dry. That's what panties and bras and such are for. Once you put them on, it doesn't matter whether they're physically attached to the dress, so in the pool they can serve the same purpose as bottoms and linings." I leaned over close to her and lowered my voice. "If anything, they'll make you look even sexier, because they won't let too much show all at once. And besides," I confided, "wet underwear under your wet dress would turn me on even more."
She thought about it for a moment longer, then smiled and kissed me. When I felt the tip of her tongue brush across my lips, I responded in kind, then let my hand gently wander to her breast. "You're really feeling frisky tonight," she said, leaning into my touch and nibbling my neck. Then she got up from the sofa and headed toward her bedroom. "You stay right there. I'll be back in a few minutes."
I was so excited I was trembling, so I sat on the couch, took off my shoes, and took slow, deep breaths. By the time Debbie returned, I had regained a little composure, but not much. She appeared in the doorway wearing a really cute black mini-dress with short sleeves and a V-neckline. It was made of lightweight material, cut straight and smooth except for a black fabric belt that emphasized her slim figure. Her arms, legs, and feet were all bare. Simple, elegant, and extremely arousing.
"You did say black?" she asked, then walked up to the sofa and sat down in my lap.
"Nice," I said, "very nice. You look gorgeous." I paused. "Is this a swim-dress?"
She kept me in suspense for a moment before answering. "That depends on what I decide to do while I'm wearing it. Do you think it's a good night for a swim?"
No spoken answer was necessary. My hands were immediately all over her, and hers over me. I caressed her arms, brushed her breasts, stroked her legs, and ran my fingers through her hair. I kissed her neck and murmured, "I'm yours; it's my destiny. You're the only woman for me." She said nothing in reply, but made it clear in other ways that she very much approved of that idea.
As my kisses crept down along her neckline, the edge of something black and lacy peeked out from under the dress and fuelled my excitement even more. She shifted position in my lap to kiss me back. "Along with panties and a bra, I usually wear a slip with this," she explained, momentarily folding back her hem a couple inches to reveal black satin. "You said you like underwear, so I hope that's ok." I answered her with a long, deep kiss.
We continued to touch and caress for a while, then she said, "You look hot in that shirt. Let me help you out of it." With a light, teasing touch that aroused me even more, her hands slowly peeled it over my head. "Hmmmm, you still look hot. I think we need to get you in the water so you won't overheat." With that she stood up, took my hand, and led me outside to the edge of the pool where the steps were.
"You poor dear," she said, looking pointedly at the bulge in my shorts, "you need to cool off right away. Now, one step at a time, with me, so you don't fall."
I was speechless, but my eyes were wide open and devouring her. Still holding my hand, she led me down the first two steps, and the water rose almost to her knees.
"You know, I'm not wearing a bathing suit," she observed, looking down and running her hand slowly over her dress, "and if I go any in any deeper, my clothes are going to get wet."
Then she smiled at me, her eyes locked on mine, and very deliberately took the next step down. Her hemline dropped below the surface, and the bottom of her black dress grew even darker as it soaked up the water. I pulled her to me tightly, kissed the nape of her neck, and nibbled her ears. She was excited too and kissed me hard, sucking on my lips and thrusting her tongue against mine.
Crazy with desire, I picked her up and kneaded her buttocks, and she wrapped her legs around my waist.
"Why don't you get my panties wet?" she suggested. "That's what I put them on for."
My heart pounded. Still holding her, I moved out to where the water reached over her waist.
"I'm glad you suggested this," she whispered, "the water feels so good."
We shared a long, slow kiss.
"Don't forget my bra," she reminded me. "I'm wearing that just for you, too, and I'm certainly not expecting it to stay dry."
She kissed me again, and I carried her deeper, the water creeping up her dress and over her breasts until it reached our necks. Debbie just tightened her legs around me and kissed me again.
Then she suddenly pushed away from me. Calling "Catch me if you can," she laughed, took a deep breath, and quickly swam underwater to the far corner of the pool. Needless to say, I followed her. "This dress is easier to swim in than I thought it would be," she said, somewhat surprised. "It doesn't constrict my motion at all. You were right, it usually does make a good swim-dress."
"It certainly does," I agreed.
"Feel like diving in?" she asked. My face must have given away my thoughts, because she laughed and said, "I mean from the diving board, silly," and started up the ladder. Following her, I caught a glimpse of black panties as she rose out of the pool above me. "A swim-dress should look good out of the water, too. Do you think this one is all right?" she asked, walking slowly to the diving board, and turning around to show off all sides of her outfit.
"The best I've ever seen," was all I could say, frozen in awe watching her. Water ran off her hair, her skin glistened in the outdoor lights, and the lightweight fabric of her dress clung to her in way that nearly made my heart stop. The straps and edges of her underwear were all crisply defined, and water streamed off the bottom of the dress.
She sprang off the end of the board, diving smoothly into the water, then climbed back out and approached me. Even with a bra and slip under the dress, the smooth roundness of her breasts was visible. She glanced purposefully down at me, then back up. Her eyes were smouldering. "It looks like those shorts are getting a bit confining." She was right. "Let's see what's under there." She reached down and opened my zipper, then pulled off the shorts. In nothing but my wet boxers, my arousal was readily apparent.
"And let's see what's under here," I echoed, untying her belt and pulling her close. Reaching around to her back, I found her zipper, slowly lowered it, then gently folded her dress off her shoulders. She wriggled her arms out of the sleeves, then allowed the dress to fall to the ground and stepped out of it. She stood calmly smiling at me in her thin, wet, black slip.
"Well what do you know," I teased, "this looks like another swim-dress. You thought you didn't have any at all, and now here you are wearing a second one right under the first. They're both so sexy, I can't make up my mind which one I like better."
"Technically, this one isn't really a swim-dress until I swim in it," she reminded me, stepping off the edge of the pool and slipping into the water.
It seemed impossible, but when she climbed back out, the thin, dripping wet satin was clinging even more tightly to her than before. We embraced and kissed again, fondling each other more and more intimately. When I thought I could hold back no longer, she stepped away and said teasingly, "Wait, I have a surprise for you. There's actually a third swimsuit for you to see. I'm wearing a bikini under this."
She slid a set of straps off her shoulder. The slip stayed in place like it was glued on, so she slowly peeled it off her body. She was now wearing nothing but a black nylon bra and panties. Climbing down the ladder back into the pool, she said, "Of course, it's not really a swimsuit until we make it official," then ducked under water and climbed back out.
The tantalizingly thin, sopping wet, clinging, skimpy black nylon left very little to the imagination. We embraced again, but when she had once more excited me to my very limit, she picked up an empty glass from the table and returned to the edge of the pool. She bent over to fill it, and as she did the sight of her wet panties tight across her buttocks drove me wild.
Standing up and handing me the glass of water, she said, "I'm afraid my clothes might get dry. Perhaps you should wet them again for me."
I obliged, soaking her bra, where her hard nipples showed clearly, then emptying the glass into the front of her panties while she helpfully held the waistband open just enough to let the water run inside.
"Debbie? Do we need to ... I mean, I love you, and I don't want to get you ..." My conscience was struggling with the lust wracking my body, and I fumbled with the words. "Um, there's something in the house that I should go get ..."
"It's ok, I love you too, and I'm already on the pill," she reassured me. "But it means a lot to me that as hot as you are, you care enough to remember. I really appreciate that, and it makes me feel secure with you and want to be even closer." She kissed me tenderly on the forehead. "Let me show you just how much."
I was now beyond any hope of restraint. The big sunbathing mattress was right next to us, so I grabbed Debbie and we fell down onto it. Quickly stripping off each other's remaining underwear, we made love under the stars, hard and impatiently.
After we had both fully satisfied our physical passions, we remained there, naked and relaxed, stroking and caressing each other. When we finally started to get cold, we dried off, threw our wet clothes into the laundry to rinse out the chlorine, and climbed into bed together. Just before I drifted off, she murmured, "Are your next five Friday nights free?"
"Sure, but why five?" I mumbled, already half-asleep.
"There are five more wash-and-wear dresses in my closet."
It's hard to fall asleep when your heart is racing, but I've never had sweeter dreams.
The following weekend, Debbie and I went to a party on Friday night. I wore a new pair of comfortable jeans and a black pullover shirt. She wore a flaming red, one-piece, sleeveless dress with a plunging neckline, a gathered waistline, and a short but full, loose skirt. Her gorgeous legs didn't need nylons, and she completed the outfit with red shoes and red earrings. It was a good party, with the usual music, food, and a lot of interesting people. Both of us enjoyed it, but the best part was the dancing. Debbie was really in the mood for it, and she was being such a tease with me. The skirt of that red dress would flip and swish and rise when she spun, showing off her sexy thighs, and occasionally even flashing her matching red underpants. The top gave the appearance of fitting securely, but when she bent or shook, you could see her breasts moving against the fabric and catch a glimpse of a red bra underneath.
She knew this was happening; in fact it was all clearly deliberate, and she made her movements lithe and suggestive to maximize the effect. Best of all, she was modest and subdued when dancing with other guys, and saved the teasing just for me. I was flattered and feeling great, and returned the compliment by reserving all my attentions for her. The party finally broke up, but before returning to my car we went across the street to a park and found a bench in the moonlight. We sat there for quite a while, talking and necking, and I gave her a locket with our picture in it. The warmth we both felt told us that we had something very special going, and that it promised to just keep getting even better.
At last we drove back to the house she was caring for, sat down together on the sofa, and kicked off our shoes. Debbie had been toying with my desire throughout the whole party, with me loving every minute of it, and now that we had privacy it was a challenge for me not to push too quickly. She noticed my eyes roving over her, but that wasn't all she noticed.
"It looks like you're feeling `confined' again," she observed, smiling. "Do you need me to `cool you off' ?" She looked at me expectantly, with a gleam in her eyes.
My heart skipped a beat. Could that question mean what I hoped it meant? Maybe, but I sure didn't want to spoil a really great relationship by jumping the gun. It would be safer to lead her along slowly.
"Last time didn't turn out at all like you intended. Instead of cooling off, we both got much hotter," I teased. "Are you sure you're willing to try again?"
She snuggled up close to me. "As a matter of fact, last time turned out exactly the way I intended, and I'd love to try again." She took my face in her hands and kissed me. "Do you have a special wish this evening?"
Oh boy, I must be living right, I thought. "The pool looks inviting ..."
"Yes, after all that dancing, I'm pretty hot myself, so that water certainly does look tempting." She left me hanging for a long moment. "And?"
I took a deep breath. And then another one. "And I still have a thing for swim-dresses."
"I thought you might," she chuckled. "You know, last week I didn't think I had any, but since then I've discovered a whole closet full of possibilities. Is there something in particular you'd like to see me in tonight?"
"The pool!" I blurted, almost losing control in my excitement.
"You're funny," she laughed. "I mean, is there anything special you want to see me wear into the pool?"
I tried hard to gather my wits again, but it was amazing how fast Debbie had learned how to push all my buttons, and she was keeping me on edge. "Yes, definitely a swim-dress. But now that there are so many choices, which one to pick?" I already knew precisely what I wanted; I'd been fantasizing about it all night. "Red might be nice," I said, running my fingers over her dress.
She immediately realized what I was thinking. "We can do
that. How about the length of the skirt?" She had that mischievous look
again.
"One that leaves your legs bare up to about, oh, here," I said, tracing my finger along the hem of her dress.
"So far, so good. And the top?"
"Sleeveless, I think," I replied, pretending to consider it carefully, "with a neckline plunging to right about, here." My hands were trembling, so I indicated the spot with a kiss.
"Anything else?" she asked.
"How about swishy down here," I said, ruffling her skirt, "and smooth up here," gently brushing her breasts.
"What a coincidence. I have something that fits your description perfectly. You wait right here ..." She put her hand on my jeans and stroked my obvious bulge, just once, leaving me aching for more. "... and I'll be back in a jiffy with it on." She went into her bedroom, then came right back out a moment later without changing clothes at all. She posed for me in the doorway. "Is this what you've been hot for?"
My heart was pounding. "Yes, that's it exactly. You're making this my lucky night." I walked over and kissed her. "And I intend to make it your lucky night, too." I gave her another kiss, long and slow and sensuous, ran my hands over her back, stroked her hair, squeezed her butt, and sighed, "You are too sexy for words."
She returned the kiss and the caresses, with interest, as we moved slowly outside to the patio. I was beside myself with excitement and had to break the tension, so as we neared the pool I joked, "You must be the only girl who wore a swim-dress to the party tonight."
She answered immediately, "But I didn't."
Now it was my turn to be puzzled. "This looks like the same dress you wore at the party."
"It is. But your own definition says it won't be a swim-dress until I actually swim in it, remember?" she replied, exaggerating her superior tone. "Since I've never gone swimming in it before, at the time of the party I was not wearing a swim-dress. Technically, I'm still not."
She had me there, but her expression soon softened and she grinned and put her arms around my neck. "Of course, I've been planning for it to become one since the moment I put it on. The whole time we were dancing, I could see in your eyes what you were thinking, and it's what I've had in mind all along." If I'd been hard for her before, this new revelation made me even harder.
She gave me another luscious kiss, but then looked at me and pretended to pout. "But after all that, this is still not really a swim-dress yet," she complained, holding up her skirt. "We've been together for hours now, and I've been wearing it the whole time, and there's a nice pool right here, but my dress is still completely dry, and in case you haven't noticed, so are my bra and panties."
I tried to reply, but she continued without pause.
"It just isn't right to treat a girl this way, and all this talk is making me impatient."
This made me mad with desire for her, but before I could respond she broke away from me, skipped across the patio and grabbed a garden hose. "If you're not going to get me wet, I'll just have to get you wet instead." She advanced on me, her hand on the trigger-grip.
"You wouldn't dare," I said, not very convincingly.
"Banzai!" she cried, running toward me and letting loose full blast with the hose. I charged straight ahead into the stream, and by the time I reached her she had my jeans and shirt completely soaked. I grabbed the end of the hose, and we struggled playfully with it for a minute, spraying water all over the patio. By the time I finally got control of the hose and released the trigger, she had taken a few direct hits.
"Ah, that's more like it," she said, examining us both, "but now my nice dress looks all splotchy. Some parts wet, and other parts not." She gave me a sultry look. "And my underwear is barely damp. This will never do." Standing with her legs apart and her arms spread-eagle, she turned her back to me and suggested, "Why don't you do something useful with that hose and even me out?"
I was in heaven. Setting the hose to a heavy spray, I drenched her from head to toe. The red dress clung tightly to her everywhere, making her panties and bra straps show through. Her arms and legs and straight black hair all shone, and the bottom edge of the dress looked like a waterfall. She turned back to face me, and I soaked her whole front, paying special attention to her bra and panties. She looked down at herself, ran her fingers over the places where the texture of her underwear showed through, and teased;
"I like the way the red looks when it's wet. Do you?"
Then she gave me a smile so irresistible that I threw down the hose, picked her up, and jumped into the deep end of the pool with her.
As soon as we surfaced and each caught our breath, our lips locked in a passionate kiss. I slipped her dress off her shoulders and fondled her breasts through her wet bra, then pushed that aside and sucked her nipples. She ducked underwater and pulled off my jeans and underpants, releasing me from my confinement, and giving me a kiss that almost made me explode. When she came back up my hands found her underpants and pulled them off, and we made love right there in the pool, not even bothering to finish undressing.
Later, in bed, she noticed me staring at her closet door. "What are you looking at?" she asked.
"That's where you keep your dresses, isn't it? The ones that could be swim-dresses, but aren't yet?" She nodded affirmatively. I gave her my best sly look. "Two down, four nights to go."
She nuzzled my chest. "That all depends." I looked at her quizzically. "I know you like to see me go swimming in a dress," she continued, "but I was wondering, how about a skirt and blouse, or a romper, or shorts and a top? Would it turn you on if I got wet wearing any of those?"
"Yes, to all of the above," I quickly replied.
"Well, all of the above are in that closet," she informed me, "and I have plenty of underwear to go with them. That brings the number to at least a dozen."
"You're a very naughty girl to even suggest such a thing."
"The closer we get, the naughtier I feel like being." She smiled and looked thoughtful for a minute. "You know, I also have more summer clothes back at my apartment. If you treat me right maybe I'll bring those over here as well." She kissed me and pressed her nude body close to mine. "You'd better keep your Friday nights clear for a while."
When we woke up Saturday morning, the sun was up and it was already warm. We lay naked in bed snuggling for a long time, but finally we began to get hungry and got up to make breakfast. Remembering the previous weekend, I'd had the foresight to bring some extra clothes this time, so after brushing my teeth I put on a pair of loose-fitting tan shorts and a dark blue T-shirt. Debbie had already put on white nylon running shorts and a thin white T-shirt, both so lightweight that they revealed more than a hint of her plain white cotton bra and underpants underneath. She looked great in anything she wore, and this outfit was no exception.
We flirted with each other all through breakfast, and after eating we went into the living room and sat barefoot on the floor talking. I was aroused just looking at her in her summery white clothes. She looked so tempting I just couldn't take my eyes off her, and she seemed pleased by that. "You look dynamite in that shirt and shorts," I told her.
"Thank you," she smiled, with a mysterious gleam in her eyes. I started running my fingers through her hair. "How about a little massage?" she asked.
"No, you deserve a long one. Lie down on your stomach." I started with her neck and shoulders, then her head and arms. Reaching under her shirt I kneaded her back muscles, and I slipped my hands under her shorts to do her buttocks. After massaging her feet, I continued with her calves and thighs, and finally she rolled onto her back so I could do her front. I spent close to an hour pleasuring her, being careful not to miss any part of her body, but never getting overtly sexual. She had been so good to me the night before, I wanted to give her the best that I could.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmm," she said, when the massage was complete. "Oh, Ken, I love it when you go slow like that; first it gets me really relaxed, and then it kind of sneaks up on being very erotic." She looked into my eyes. "I'm defenceless against that."
Then she sat up and kissed me, probing into me with her tongue and making it very clear that she didn't plan to wait until next weekend for more intimacy. Touching my shorts very lightly but strategically, she commented, "It feels like it's going to be hot again today." She giggled at her own double-entendre, but then suddenly jumped up and away from me. "Let's go outside and see if there's a breeze."
I followed her to the patio, where she picked up a Frisbee and tossed it to me. I caught it and tossed it back. "Let's see how many consecutive catches we can do," she said. "We'll do it across the pool to make it more interesting. You go stand on the other side."
"Ok, but if falls in the pool, who has to retrieve it?"
"Whoever touched it last," she replied, tossing it back to me. "And by the way, it's not fair using the skimmer to get it. That would be too easy. You have to pick it up with your hand."
For a minute we threw very carefully, with only an occasional miss that hit the fence surrounding the pool. Of course we forgot to actually keep count, but that didn't matter. As soon as we warmed up, we both began to try more challenging throws. Mine was the first toss to land in the pool, at the shallow end. I waded down the steps to get it, making a big show of holding my shorts legs up out of the water. Debbie just laughed at me.
We kept playing, but I was quite distracted by watching Debbie jump around in her skimpy white clothes. Her breasts were small and firm, and her bra held them snugly, so her T-shirt slid smoothly over them every time she turned. The legs of her shorts were cut so high they almost exposed her panties, and although her outfit covered her underwear, it was too thin to completely hide it. My eyes kept wandering from her clothes, to her lean, tanned, sexy legs, to the suggestive smiles she was flashing me. Needless to say, I soon missed again. I waded back in, but the Frisbee had landed deeper this time, and I couldn't reach it without getting my shorts wet. Stepping out of the pool, I leered at Debbie and said, "I'll guess I'll have to take my pants off."
"Goodness, no!" she gasped, in mock horror. "There's a lady present. You'll just have to keep your clothes on. And that goes for your shirt, too; that's your incentive to throw more carefully." She watched, amused, as I waded in and got the Frisbee, soaking my shorts and the bottom of my shirt.
Now my luck turned, and Debbie missed the next one. It landed in the deep end, a couple feet from the edge. "Looks like you'll have to swim for this one," I said hopefully.
"You wish," she laughed. "I can get it from here." Balancing carefully on the edge and reaching out gingerly, she did get it, easily. The next miss was hers, too, but it was in the shallow end where she could wade in without getting any clothes wet.
I was getting really hot watching her, so I deliberately missed another one. It landed in neck-deep water, and by the time I retrieved it my shirt was completely soaked. "Ha, ha," Debbie teased, "your form's all wet." Then she soon had another miss into the deep end, a bit longer reach from the edge than before. "I can get this one, too," she said, and much to my disappointment, she did. But that made her over-confident, and her very next toss landed in nearly the same place.
She bent down by the edge of the pool. "You're going to fall in," I told her, licking my lips.
She stuck out her tongue at me. "Dream on, Ken. I've done it twice, I can do it again."
"You've made a lovely choice of swimwear today," I taunted.
"I'm glad you like it, but it's only swimwear if I swim while I'm wearing it," she retorted.
As she balanced precariously on the edge, stretching slowly out to reach the Frisbee, her shorts and shirt were pulled taught against her body, and I was entranced. Of course we both knew it was inevitable that sooner or later she would end up in the water, and it was obvious what the result would be when those thin white clothes got wet. But she kept pretending it wouldn't happen, and that made me crazy with anticipation.
This shot had landed just a bit farther out than the last one, and she couldn't quite reach it. She kept retreating back to the patio, tucking her T-shirt back in, and then trying a new position on the edge. Each time she reached out and stretched her clothes tight I got even more turned on, admiring her lithe body, hoping that this time she would slip. I knew she was teasing me, and it was driving me insane.
Finally, when it looked like she was at last about to succeed in hooking the Frisbee with her finger, I called out "Third time's the charm." She looked up at me to reply, and the motion of her head was just enough to throw her off balance. She teetered for a moment, her arms flailing wildly, then fell in with a huge splash. I kept my eyes glued to her, eagerly awaiting the consequences of her dunking.
"You rat," she spluttered, as she surfaced. "I would have gotten that one."
"Could-have, should-have, would-have," I chided. Then she climbed out of the pool. Both her shirt and shorts were practically transparent, clinging tightly to her body and taking on the color of her beautiful skin. The three triangles of her white underwear shone out through them like triple beacons as she stood in the sunlight. I felt my shorts pulling very tight, and abandoned subtlety. "Are you as horny as you were at the end of your massage?"
"At least that horny." She walked deliberately toward me, every move a visual treat. "Do you want what I want?" she asked.
"Oh yes, and I want it now."
"Then stand still," she commanded, pulling off my shirt, dropping my shorts, and peeling off my briefs. Much to my delight, she kneeled down and proceeded to do wonderful things with her lips and tongue, and it wasn't long before things came to a climax.
"My turn," she demanded. I led her to the mattress on the other side of the patio, and pulled off her T-shirt and track shorts. Seeing her in that drenched white cotton bra and panties was nearly enough to set me off all over again, but I quickly removed them, then put my hands and tongue at her service. She was indeed quite horny, and she didn't last much longer than I had.
We both fell asleep for a while, and when we awoke we took plenty of time to catch up on the cuddling and kissing we had skipped in our previous haste. "By the way," I inquired, "I never did ask you about the last Frisbee rule. When does the game end?"
She nibbled on my ear and whispered, "When all our clothes are soaked and we've both come."
"Whooo-hooo!" I yelled, to the world in general. "The universe is smiling on me this morning. You must be the greatest girlfriend on Earth, there was a Frisbee in the right place at the right time, and you just happened to be dressed ever so perfectly for that game. I don't know how I can be so lucky."
She looked me in the eye, the corners of her mouth forming a funny little smile. "Luck had nothing to do with it, Mister. I chose that outfit this morning, right after I put the Frisbee out here. You were busy brushing your teeth. I know your secret, and now you're putty in my hands, remember?"
The next weekend, Debbie and I were going to another party on Friday. She had to work late, so I picked her up directly from her job. I had on black slacks and a brown pullover shirt. She was striking as usual, wearing a simple short light blue skirt, a crisply ironed long-sleeved white blouse over a lacy bra, and small gold earrings. Even after working in an office all day, she looked great.
The party was being held in the common room of the host's apartment building, but there weren't many people there, and it wasn't as interesting as the previous one. That is, until the host announced that the hot tub was open, and everyone was welcome to use it. "I didn't know there would be a hot tub here," I said to Debbie. "Did you?"
"Yes," she replied.
"If I'd known, I would have brought a swimsuit. Did you bring one?"
"No," she said, with a twinkle in her eyes. "But let's at least go take a look."
The host directed us to two doors, leading from the common room into men's and women's locker rooms, through which we had to pass separately to reach the hot tub. When Debbie and I emerged into the indoor pool area on the other side, I noticed that she had removed her nylons and shoes, so I took off my shoes and socks, too. The water in the tub was crystal clear, and we could see that it contained a shallow bench next to the edge, and a deeper one beyond it. There were two couples already in the tub, sitting on the deep bench, the water up to their necks. "Put on your bathing suits and come on in," one of the girls said, "the water's great. Just like Goldilocks, not too hot and not too cold." She laughed, sounding slightly tipsy.
Debbie walked over and felt the water with her hand. "Yes, it is just right," she said. "We didn't bring swimsuits, but I suppose we can just sit by the edge and put our feet in." The water was calm and the edge of the tub was mostly dry, so she picked out a spot and sat down. As she did, I glimpsed the edge of a half-slip under her skirt and started feeling the usual effect. I rolled up the legs of my slacks and sat down next to her.
We began talking with the couples in the tub, chatting about nothing in particular, and as we did, Debbie swirled her feet around in the tub and wiggled her toes. Occasionally, she would wet her hands in the warm water and rub them against her face, leaving it damp, then give me a seductive glance and a smile. She was at it again, teasing me, and just as she knew I would, I got more and more aroused. She hadn't gotten any of her clothes wet, and since this was a public area I really didn't think she was planning to, but just seeing her sitting on the edge of the tub was enough to get me going.
Somebody said "a penny for your thoughts," and pretty soon somebody else had produced a penny and started tossing it around. When it went to Debbie, it hit the water beside her and she plunged her hand in to catch it. Of course the end of her long sleeve got wet, and the thin white fabric went totally transparent. She laughed and acted as though it were an accident, clearly deciding not to be bothered by it. And she gave me another of those glances. Within a few more tosses she was reaching deep into the tub to get the penny, so by the time the game fizzled out, her right sleeve was soaked almost to the shoulder. Of course, this turned me on even more.
Someone turned on the whirlpool jets, and the tub begin to bubble. I noticed that little waves now broke over the edge occasionally, some bigger than others, but all at unpredictable places. I knew Debbie had noticed too, because she reached over and swished her hand in one of the resulting little puddles, but instead of moving away she just gave me another seductive look. Now the bulge in my pants was getting embarrassingly obvious. Yes, I was putty in her hands, but somehow I didn't mind.
Soon one of the larger waves struck the edge of the tub squarely where Debbie was sitting. Squealing, she stood up and showed me the back of her skirt, where a large darker blue patch indicated that her butt had gotten quite wet. "Oh well," she shrugged, "it's all washable, so no harm done," and then she sat back down next to me in the same place, settling right into the middle of the newly formed puddle. The other couples had become completely engrossed in each other, and they weren't paying any attention to us at all.
Debbie looked down into my lap, gave me a devilish smile, then leaned over and giggled in my ear, "Don't look now, but I can tell how happy you are to see me."
I'm not easily embarrassed, but now I wanted to hide my pants more than I wanted to keep them dry, so I slipped down into the tub. The outer bench around the edge was shallow, but it was more than deep enough to completely submerge my slacks and soak the bottom of my shirt. Debbie looked surprised, then assumed an air of indignation. "Ken, you told me you didn't have any swimwear with you."
"I didn't, when I told you that." I looked down at the swirling water covering half my body, then smiled up at her and shrugged. "But now I do." I let my gaze wander over her admiringly, fingered the edge of her skirt, and stroked her thigh. "You told me you didn't have any swimwear with you, either."
"I didn't, when I told you that," she said, sounding uncertain. She hesitated for a few seconds, then suddenly slid down into my lap with a splash. "But now I do."
Most of her skirt had disappeared under the surface, and the bubbling water washed over what remained visible, thoroughly soaking it and lapping against the bottom of her blouse. She gave me a passionate kiss, and I had the urge to start pulling clothes off right there, but we were in public so I restrained myself. Instead, I lowered myself slowly to the deeper bench, Debbie still in my lap. As the water crept up her blouse and over her bra she held me tight and caught her breath, and I returned the squeeze enthusiastically. We must have been a sight, two lovers necking, fully-dressed, in the hot tub, but we were both too hot for each other to care.
The roiling water hid our groping as we explored each other as intimately as our clothes would allow. With one hand caressing a breast through her bra, I began stroking her legs with the other, sliding under her skirt, feeling the wet satin of her half-slip, until my fingers could trace the edge of her underpants.
"Don't stop," she whispered, so I pushed inside her panties and massaged her, lightly at first, then more vigorously as her hands tightened their grip on me. Her body stiffened for a moment, and then she relaxed and kissed me. "Thank you," she sighed. "You must be ready to burst by now."
With one hand holding my back, and her lips locked on mine, her other hand pressed between my legs. Finding what she was looking for, she stroked purposefully, and quickly proved her conjecture correct. We stayed there, in each others' arms, until the timer shut off the whirlpool jets. Looking around, we realized the other couples had left, and it was getting late.
"Perhaps we should be getting home," I suggested.
"Yes, I guess we should," Debbie agreed, and we climbed out of the tub. She looked down at herself, and for the first time she seemed embarrassed. "Maybe we got carried away this time. My skirt is still opaque, but my blouse is all but invisible. How do we get back to the car?" She folded her arms across her chest to emphasize her concern.
I wanted to just stand there drinking in the sight of her, but this was not the time, so I thought quickly and spoke with authority. "Your bra is so pretty it will pass for a camisole that's supposed to show. Undress in the locker room, gently wring out your clothes so they won't drip so much, and put them back on. We'll just brazen our way out, as if people do this all the time."
Before she could object, I ducked into the men's locker room and followed my own advice. Fortunately it worked. The few people still in the common room were too preoccupied with their drinks to notice anything unusual about us, and nobody said a thing.
By the time we got back to the house, the whole episode seemed hilarious, and we were joking about it and laughing hysterically. Our clothes were getting cold and clammy, though, so we stripped right away, gave each other a nice rub-down with fluffy towels, and climbed into the warm bed together.
"I really love it when you give me massages and rub-downs," she told me. "The attention and the contact means so much, and it makes me feel closer to you."
"I enjoy doing it for you. I like to please you, and the touching is very pleasant for me, too," I answered. "And I want to tell you how much it turns me on when you get wet in your clothes with me."
"Yes, I'd noticed that," she laughed.
"I mean, of course it drives me wild physically, but there's more to it than that. It touches a special, private part of me. No woman has ever done that before, and it makes me feel closer to you to be able to share it with you."
"I'm glad," she replied warmly. "I like to please you, and I don't mind doing it at all. It's completely harmless, and it's kind of fun to be so silly. And I love the effect it has on you," she added, snuggling up to me.
There was a long silence, and then she decided to tell me more. "It might be by association, because getting wet always seems to lead to making love with you, but I'm actually starting to like it myself. The first couple of times I was just doing it to please you, but now that I'm used to it, so I can relax and enjoy it, the feel of wet clothing on my skin is becoming kind of erotic."
"In fact, I really wasn't planning to get wet tonight, not in public like that," she continued. "Sure, I was going to use that hot tub to tease you. My idea was to keep you wondering whether I would or I wouldn't, and even to let some splashing hit me if there was any horseplay. That's all I had in mind, though, a little teasing, not getting drenched. Then when I put my feet in the hot water, it started feeling so sensual that one thing just led to another. And sitting in your lap was purely impulsive; I didn't know I was going to do that until I did it."
"I liked your impulse," I said, and held her close. "Got any more?" Our fun for the rest of that night was more conventional, but no less satisfying.
The next morning, we both woke late, and I got up first. As I was leaving the bathroom after brushing my teeth, I noticed a white summer dress hanging in the shower. I assumed it had recently been washed, but it was dry now. It was so pretty that it really caught my eye, and I remembered that when Debbie had worn it on one of our early dates, she had been a real knock-out in it. I took it by the hanger and carried it back to the bedroom. "Now here's something you could tempt me with," I announced. "Just let me know anytime you want to make this one into a swim-dress."
Debbie just blushed. "What's the matter?" I asked. "I can see that a lot will show through when it gets wet, but that didn't seem to bother you when we played Frisbee."
"That's not it," she replied softly. "We can't make that a swim-dress."
I checked the label. "It says it's washable."
"That's not it, either." She took a deep breath. "Technically, by your definition, we can't make it a swim-dress because it already is one."
"It is? I've seen you wear this, but I don't remember you getting wet in it, and there's no way I'd forget that."
She looked very embarrassed, so I just waited for her to speak. "Promise you won't think I'm weird?" she asked.
"Of course."
She blurted out the whole story in one sentence: "Remember last night when I told you that wet clothes were getting erotic for me too, well one day this week I wore that dress to work, and when I came home it was really hot and I wanted to go for a swim, and I had a sudden urge to just kick off my shoes and jump in, and then I actually did, so it already is a swim-dress, and that's why it was hanging in the shower to dry."
She looked so uncomfortable that I laid down the dress, got back into bed with her, and took her in my arms. "There's nothing wrong with that. Like you yourself said, it's just harmless, silly fun. How did it feel?"
She was very relieved at my acceptance, and relaxed again. "Well, it felt good. First it was refreshing, and then I started thinking about you and getting horny. By the time I got out of the pool, I was really sorry you weren't here with me."
"I'm really sorry, too," I said with feeling. "Next time, invite me over, ok? I'd hate to miss anything like that. And you know, once a dress has become a swim-dress, that certainly doesn't mean you can't swim in it again. So you can still tempt me with that little white number any time." I kissed her gently. "I hope you do."
"Ok, then I will sometime," she smiled, and then changed the subject. "Are you hungry?"
"Yes, let's get up and eat." We put on robes, ate breakfast, and then lay down together on the carpet in the living room to relax. "I was just thinking about the party last night," I said. "I enjoyed the hot tub, but I wanted to really take you, and it was frustrating not having the privacy to do it."
"I know," she replied, "and I wanted you to really take me. Maybe another time."
"You have a hot tub, right out by the pool. And we can soak in privacy here. Shall we make a date for another time?"
She rolled over and laid her head on my chest. "He who hesitates is lost; let's make the date be right now. Shall we soak naked or clothed?"
I feigned shock. "Debbie, I'm aghast. You, naked, with a gentlemen present?" She grinned. "No, a proper lady such as yourself, at this time of the morning, should be clothed in ..." I scowled in concentration. "... pyjamas."
She laughed. "Of course, you're quite right, sir. I don't know what I was thinking. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to help me select the appropriate attire."
"My pleasure, milady," I replied. We went to the bedroom, and she opened the drawer containing her pyjamas. I could see it also contained some nightgowns with real potential, but those would have to wait for another day.
"Long or short?" she asked.
"It's summer. Short."
"Pink or blue?"
"A hot color for a hot tub. Pink." She pulled out a pair of light pink shorts, and a matching short-sleeved button-front shirt, both made of thin, fuzzy cotton. After holding them up for me to see, she laid them on the bed. "Those are just the ticket," I said.
"These may be worn either with or without undergarments," she said. "Which would be more proper?"
"Oh, let's not be miserly. With, by all means." She opened another drawer, and found a pair of red nylon panties, and a smooth red nylon bra. She dangled them in front of my face, then laid them on the bed. "Perfect," I said.
She spun her finger to indicate that I should turn around while she put them on, so I did. "No peeking," she teased. After a moment she said, "Do these meet with your approval?"
I turned back to see. "Absolutely. As usual, you are the very picture of elegance and propriety."
"Now I do assume, of course, that you too will be properly attired in pyjamas?"
"Of course. In fact I believe that suitcase of mine over in the corner contains a pair right now." I spun my finger for her to turn around, and quickly changed into a pair of light blue summer pyjamas of my own. "Ready," I announced. "Shall we partake of the waters?"
I took her hand and let her out to the patio, and we both sat on the edge of the hot tub, on opposite sides so we faced each other. We left the whirlpool jets turned off, so the water remained clear and calm. This tub had only a single bench around the edge, chest-deep when you sat on it. I slipped into the hot water right away, ducking completely under to wet my hair and completely drench my pyjamas.
"You men," she said facetiously, shaking her head, "always in such a hurry. Won't you ever learn that slowing down prolongs the pleasure?" Her feet were in the water, and she languidly wet her bare arms and legs with handfuls of water. Here and there a little spilled on her pyjamas, not entirely by accident, and the light pink fabric turned a much darker hue. "This feels so nice," she purred, smiling at me, then wet her face and neck generously. The excess water soaked into her collar.
"It's even nicer down here," I told her. "Why don't you come on in?"
"I don't know," she teased. "This material is so thin." She filled a cupped hand, then poured it deliberately on one leg of the shorts. "Look how much shows when it's wet." I just waited silently, smiling at her. "Well, perhaps just a little bit," she relented. She stood on the bench, grasped the edge, and slowly lowered herself down, until her legs were submerged and her crotch just touched the surface of the hot water. Then she sat back on the edge. "That does feel great, but if I get these pyjamas all wet I'll have to change."
"Well, the bottoms are already partly wet, so you'll have to change them anyway," I said. "You might as well finish them and enjoy it."
"I suppose you're right," she replied, pretending to hesitate before getting back in. This time she dropped in to her waist before returning to the edge. Her red panties were now clearly visible through the shorts, the sight of which caused a rather marked physiological response in me, but I said nothing about it.
"You went too deep last time," I pointed out, "and got part of your top wet too. Come on back in and finish the job." She sank into the water again, her eyes locked on mine, but this time she stopped just short of her bra before standing up again.
"That might be enough for today," she said.
"You're doing this on purpose," I protested. She just smiled at me. "You're deliberately teasing me."
"Yes," she agreed.
"You're unmerciful."
"You love it," she cooed.
"You're ignipotent."
"I'm what??" she laughed.
"Ignipotent. From 'ignite' and 'potent.' It means you have the power to light my fire," I explained. "And you have, and I can't take this much longer, and if you don't get all the way in soon I'm going to do it for you."
"I do believe you really would," she smiled, and dunked herself completely under. As she sat back on the edge, I knew lust would soon overcome me.
"That thin material looks absolutely incredible on you when it's wet," I observed breathlessly. "Everything is hugging you, and there's water running out of your pants and forming a big hot puddle all around you, and the sight of you sitting there in the middle of it is driving me crazy. And did you know I can see both your bra and your panties right through your pyjamas?"
She chuckled. "Why do you think I chose red underwear instead of pink?" She sat up very straight and struck a pose, making the drenched pyjamas cling even more tightly. I lunged over to her side of the tub, grabbed her waist, and pulled her down into my lap. We shared a long kiss, and I yielded completely to temptation and started to fondle her everywhere I wanted to. Her hands began to wander over me as well, then stopped when she pulled open my shorts and peeked in. "You're not wearing underwear," she said, a bit surprised.
I grinned. "Pretty soon you won't be either."
This hot tub provided complete privacy, and we took full advantage of it.
The following Friday, we had agreed to just meet at the house, and then decide what to do on our date. I wore loose brown trousers and a white 'pirate' shirt, the kind with the deep slashed neck. When I arrived Debbie was wearing cut-offs and a T-shirt, and she immediately pulled me onto the sofa and started necking with me.
"This is a nice way to start a date," I said, pleased.
"The weatherman said it will be a hot night tonight." Then she smiled and said throatily, "And if I have anything to say about it, it's going to be. I haven't seen you for almost a week." She kissed me again. "Would you like me to wear that white summer dress tonight, the one I took a swim in when you weren't here?"
Debbie could turn me on like no other woman I'd ever met. Just knowing she had gotten wet in that dress was exciting me. "Oh, boy, I'd like that a lot. I've been thinking about it all week, and I want to see what I missed."
"Then I have a surprise for you. I stopped at a second-hand shop and picked up some accessories and costume jewellery to go with it. Most of it is washable, and the rest was so cheap it doesn't matter. I'll go put it all on."
I removed my shoes and socks, and waited impatiently to see what she had in store for me.
After a few minutes she returned in the white dress, but she was decked out with all the trimmings. "What a lovely damsel you are," I told her, and she was. "A feast for my eyes, and fit for a king."
"And you look like king of the pirates, in that shirt," she kidded.
"Pirate?" I stormed. "The term is buccaneer. Damsel or not, you'll have to pay for that indiscretion! You do know the penalty?"
"I'm afraid I do not," she said, slipping right into character and curtsying. "Whatever might it be?"
"Walking the plank. You can swim, can't you?" I growled.
"Yes, but these pretty clothes will all get so very wet," she replied with mock distress.
"Well, I'll have to consider that." I looked at her with a leer. "Why don't you tell me exactly what you're wearing."
She began matter-of-factly, in a precise voice. "My nice white summer dress, which as you can plainly see has short sleeves, a low neckline in front, ..." Here she paused and batted her eyelashes at me. "... a high neckline in back, a gathered waist, and a skirt reaching to just above the knees. Under it is a short white petticoat to make the skirt fuller, and a white satin slip to make the whole dress lie smoothly on the body." She turned her face away and lowered her voice. "And a bra and panties, of course, both white." She resumed her previous tone of voice. "Long white stockings, with a white garter belt to hold them up, and white shoes. Long white gloves. These white pearl clusters dangling from my ears, and the double string of white pearls around my neck."
"That is a quite lot to get wet," I opined, softening my voice, "and they are such pretty clothes."
"Surely you can be merciful, a famous pirate like yourself ..."
"You call me a pirate again? Once I could forgive, but twice must be punished." I picked her up by the waist and carried her outside. "It's off to the plank with you, you impudent wench."
She giggled. "Oh no, Br'er Fox, please don't throw me in the briar patch!"
"Don't try to talk your way of this one. I'm going to make sure you get what's coming to you."
"You'd better. I've been waiting all week."
Feeling her firm, warm body squirming in my hands, I almost lost it right there. I stopped to set her down and kissed her hard. She kissed me back even harder, exploring my mouth with her tongue and clutching the back of my head in her hands. It was a great kiss, but eventually we had to come up for air.
"Try to dissuade me with your charms, will you?" I resumed. "I'm not so easily distracted." Picking her up by the waist again, I carried her to the deep end of the pool and set her down on the diving board. She wrung her hands and did her best 'damsel in distress' act.
I picked up the pool skimmer, and using the long handle like a sword, I prodded her to back up, toward the end of the board.
"Oh, that water looks so heartless," she said melodramatically, and took a step backwards. "It looks so deep." Another step. "It looks so cool." Another step. "It looks so sensual." She gave me a sultry look. "It looks so ... wet." She smothered a giggle.
"Enough of your babbling, woman!" I cried. "Into the briny with you!"
"Very well," said Debbie, and turning her back to me, she held out her arms and stepped gracefully off the end of the diving board. As she dropped feet-first into the pool, her dress rose up in mid-air for an instant, then followed her into the water. In a moment she bobbed back to the surface, her dress and petticoat riding high in the water around her. As she swam leisurely toward the shallow end, I followed along the edge of the pool, watching her movements appreciatively. Her feet touched bottom, and she walked smoothly up the steps back onto the patio, staggering for just a moment under the weight of her wet clothes, but quickly compensating. Water streamed off everything: her hair, her hands, and especially her dress.
That dress was driving me mad. The white material was transparent enough, in fact everything she had on was now transparent, but there were so many layers that all each layer really revealed was another revealing layer underneath. It looked like I should be able to see everything, but hardly any of her torso was actually visible.
"Well, now my conscience is at ease," she said, still in character. "I've paid my debt."
"Perhaps," I replied. "Are you sure you're completely wet?"
She touched her buttocks and her breasts suggestively. "I certainly feel quite wet." She gave me a look that told me both meanings were intentional.
"We'd better make sure. Let me check you over." I ran my hands over her dress, fondling every inch of it. "Well, this dress is drenched, but I'd better check the rest," I blustered. I unzipped the back of the dress, and she helped me remove it. Reaching under her slip, I checked her petticoat, then pulled it off. Now there weren't so many layers, and I paused to relish the sight of her in a revealing wet white slip. Even with loose trousers, my arousal was apparent, and Debbie couldn't help smiling when she looked at it.
"I can see Buccaneers enjoy their work," she teased. "It's nice to see you rise to the occasion."
"There'll be no remarks from the peanut gallery," I snapped playfully, and reached down to take off her shoes. Her garter-belt was next, after which I rolled each now-sheer wet stocking down her leg and off her foot, then removed her wet gloves in a similar manner. "Better make sure this got completely soaked, too," I grinned, and ran my hands over her slip. Some parts I checked two or three times, then stood back to admire her appearance. "There's a problem here," I told her. "You're missing an earring."
She reached up to check her ears, and discovered that I was right. "Oh, that's terrible," she said.
"Intolerable," I agreed. "It must have fallen off in the water. You'll have to go back and find it."
"Yes, I suppose I must," she acquiesced, and stepped back into the pool looking for it. She proceeded slowly into deeper water, and as the surface rose above her waist, the slip rose up with it, exposing her white underpants. She finally spotted the earring in shoulder-deep water, and ducked under to get it. She carried it back onto the patio, and water once again streamed off her while she replaced it on her ear.
"That's much better," I told her, then slowly removed her slip. She was irresistible standing there in a transparent bra and panties. I stroked her white cotton bra, caressing each breast carefully, then took off the bra, and at last gave similar attention to her white cotton panties. "For such a fine lady, you seem very much at ease in the nude," I remarked. "I like that in a woman."
"I'm not nude," she retorted, "I'm still wearing my jewellery. But now, Mr. Buccaneer, it's my turn to give the orders. Get those clothes off, now!"
Who was I to argue with that? I stripped naked in record time.
"Lie down on that mattress, Bucco," she barked. I complied, lying completely flat, with one rather obvious exception. "This is my favorite part," she said quietly, firming me up with some well-placed strokes before she lowered herself onto me. "Make me glad I waited for you."
I did.