For months I'd had a crush on Ari. Her real name was actually Arielle, but only the teachers called her that; all the kids called her Ari. She was a good student but never tried to call attention to herself, seeming to have a quiet self-assurance that made that unnecessary. She was also very sensitive and empathic, with the kind of confident gentleness in her eyes that often made her the only one who could approach a frightened animal to comfort it. As if that weren't enough, I also thought she was just about the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, certainly the most beautiful in our high school senior class, and I thought about her all the time.
The problem was, I was shy. Really shy. Just thinking about asking any girl for a date was enough to send the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy, and it would take me a half-hour to work up the courage to actually pick up the phone.
That didn't make any sense, but then such fears seldom do. Even though I excelled at academics and was liked by both the teachers and the other students, my lack of both athletic ability and social confidence was an albatross I felt I might never be rid of.
Then, finally, I worked up the nerve to ask Ari out. I knew I'd hate myself forever if I didn't, and after spending a week of afternoons reading self-help books from the library to build myself up, I conquered my anxiety just long enough to make one phone call. That was sufficient, because she accepted my invitation to go see a movie. Of course, once we hung up I realized that I'd been at least as afraid that she'd say "yes" as that she'd say "no" - but no matter, I'd passed the first hurdle.
When the big night came, in spite of my nervousness I managed to get through the date without messing anything up too badly. My only real foul-up was forgetting to release the parking brake when I started driving her home, but that was quickly corrected after a couple of blocks when we both noticed a funny burning smell. When we arrived at her home her parents were both there, but they were very nice to me and had the tact to make themselves scarce when it was time for me to kiss Ari good-night. It was just a little peck, but that was more than I'd dared to hope for - little did she know (or perhaps she did) that I'd never kissed a girl before. I didn't sleep well that night, or the next few nights, since now I was just as concerned about the chances of getting a second date as I had been about getting the first one.
I needn't have worried. She accepted my second invitation, and the third, and the fourth. Our dates were certainly far from passionate, but by the third one we were at least holding hands. One or both of her parents were invariably in the house when I brought her home, but they always invited me in for a snack and I eventually realized that they approved of me. I finally started to relax enough to actually enjoy Ari's company and get to know her, and she seemed to be warming to me as well. I suppose it shouldn't have been surprising, since Ari was also both quiet and academically gifted, so we actually did have a lot in common, but it was still a wonder to me that she kept accepting every time I asked her for a date.
Our fifth date, a couple months after the first one, is where the story gets interesting. When I arrived to pick up Ari it was still a bit early, so her Mom invited me in for a while. Her Dad was out of town on business, so Ari and I sat at the kitchen table while her Mom puttered about the kitchen, all three of us chatting. At one point I excused myself to use the bathroom, and as I neared the kitchen on my return I overheard Ari's Mom say, "You really like Scott, don't you?"
"Yes, I do," I heard Ari giggle. "He's awfully shy, but he's so sweet, and he's kind of cute, too. Most of the guys at school are all wrapped up in themselves, but he's nice."
From where she stood at the sink her Mom could now see me in the hallway, but Ari didn't yet know I was there. I stopped in my tracks, realizing how embarrassing it would be if I barged into the kitchen now, but not sure of what to do next. Ari's Mom shot me a quick smile to let me know she saw me, and replied, "He seems nice to me, too, and he's smart. I think you should keep him."
My face turned red at this, but somehow I summoned the presence of mind to tip-toe silently back to the bathroom, open and close the door noisily, and then clump down the hallway making sure my approach would be heard this time. When I re-entered the kitchen Ari showed no sign of knowing she'd been overheard, and her Mom just winked at me surreptitiously. "You kids had better get going if you don't want to miss the beginning of the movie," she told us, and Ari and I were soon on our way.
I felt rather guilty about eavesdropping on Ari, even though it had been completely unintentional, but at the same time I was almost delirious knowing how she felt about me. I held her hand right from the beginning of the movie, and at one point leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Ari?"
"Yes?"
"I really like you." Immediately I was overcome with feelings of incredible clumsiness. So many romantic things I could have said, and that's all I could think of!
"I really like you, too," she whispered back, and my feelings of inadequacy dissipated instantly, replaced by the warm cocoon of acceptance. The feel of Ari's warm breath against my ear for that one short instant gave me the courage to put my arm around her, and she leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder. For the rest of the movie I felt that I was the luckiest guy alive, and for the first time the end of our evening loomed as a painful separation rather than a release from the tension of worrying about somehow botching up the date.
When we got back to her place, the front door was locked. "That's funny," Ari remarked as she got out her key, "Mom usually leaves it open when she's here. Mom?" she called, as we entered the hallway, "Are you home?" There was no answer. We went to the kitchen, where Ari found a note on the refrigerator. She scanned it, then handed it to me with an awkward smile. It read:
"Ari, Mr. Miller's car broke down and left him stranded a couple hours away, so Mrs. Miller had to go pick him up. She won't be back until at least midnight, and I'm at their place keeping an eye on their baby. You know Dad and I don't normally allow boys in the house when we're not home, but we trust you and Scott so we'll make an exception tonight - but only until 10 PM. Love, Mom."
I glanced at the clock. We'd gone to an early show, and it was only 8:30 and just barely dark. There was a long pause, as we both tried not to make too much of having the house to ourselves for a whole hour and a half.
"Do you want a drink?" Ari finally asked, and we picked out some juice and pop. The dishwasher was full of dirty dishes, so the only clean glasses left were on a high cabinet shelf, and I froze and watched as Ari, her back to me, reached up for them. She was wearing a lightweight, long-sleeved, navy-blue blouse and a snugly fitted pair of matching dark blue jeans, and as she stretched to reach the shelf those jeans molded themselves to her derriere and the outline of her bra showed through the back of her blouse. Ari was slender but not skinny, and the effect was most attractive. Best of all, at the apex of her stretch her blouse pulled loose from where she had tucked it in, exposing a thin band of skin above the top of her jeans, and the very top of a pair of white underpants peeked out. Even my usual nervousness was not enough to suppress a certain automatic physiological response, and I turned quickly away so she wouldn't notice my gawking. We picked out some munchies, brought them into the living room, and sat down.
I had never been in this situation before and had the distinct impression that Ari hadn't either, so we both felt a bit uncomfortable. At first I was afraid to even sit too close or hold her hand again, for fear of coming on too strong, but once we started talking we both loosened up and I moved next to her on the sofa. The conversation turned to dream interpretation, and Ari asked me, "What about daydreams? When you don't have to worry about reality and can dream about anything you want, what do you dream about?"
I blushed, and Ari giggled.
"Oh, come on Scott, you can tell me."
I knew exactly what my answer would be, but I couldn't quite get it out. Ari became quiet, took my hand, and squeezed it. "No, really, I'd like to know. It's ok to tell me. It's just fantasy, and I promise I won't tell anyone else."
"I daydream about you," I said, embarrassed by my own forwardness.
"There's nothing wrong with that," she reassured me. "It's flattering for a girl to know that a guy thinks about her." Then she blushed a little. "Even if it's a physical fantasy, I don't mind. It's just make-believe, and I know you care about me."
"I daydream about you being my steady girl," I continued, afraid of sounding desperate but equally afraid of never again having the nerve to say it, "but you're so beautiful, you must have lots of guys after you. You could have the captain of the football team if you wanted."
She was quiet for a moment, then said, very gently, "Maybe the captain of the football team isn't who I want." There was another long pause, and I felt that she was working up the courage to say something else. "And actually, most of the guys at school won't ask me out anyway," she finally added. "My girlfriends say the boys think I'm too smart, and that I should pretend to be dumber." She sounded very vulnerable, and it was clear she didn't often open up this way.
"That's ridiculous," I exclaimed, my sense of outrage momentarily overwhelming any self-consciousness. "Smart girls are much more attractive. I like you because you're smart, at least that's part of it. Any guy who can't see what a catch you are doesn't deserve you!"
"I'm so glad you feel that way," she said with obvious relief. "It's important to have friends you can be yourself with." There was another long silence, then she smiled at me and looked down at the floor. "I can't be your girl unless you ask me."
Well, even in my inexperience, that hint was too obvious to miss. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my class ring, which I'd been carrying with me on every date, even without much hope of ever mustering the nerve to offer it to her. "Ari, I'm crazy about you, and I don't want to date anyone else. Would you like to go steady?"
"Yes, Scott," she said, beaming as she took the ring from me. "I'd love to go steady with you." I just sat there next to her, incredibly pleased with myself, and looking like the Cheshire Cat. "What are you grinning at?" she said, smiling.
"I think it's customary to seal this with a kiss," I said. "Now that we're going steady, I don't think we have to wait for a good-night kiss." Then I added, uncertainly, "Do we?"
"No, I guess we don't," she replied, smiling back at me and closing her eyes. I leaned over and kissed her, much longer than I ever had before, and she made no move to cut it short. It wasn't as smooth as in the movies of course, and we both fumbled quite a bit figuring out where to put our hands, but it was nevertheless one of those moments one will always remember fondly.
When we finished, neither of us really knew what to do next, so I asked her, "What about you?"
"What do you mean?"
"We did my fantasy, now what about yours? What do you dream about?" She giggled, and shook her head in the negative. "Oh, come on now, I told you mine, so you have to tell me yours. I promise I won't laugh."
She just sat silently, so I decided to wait her out and said nothing. Finally she said, "Cleopatra."
"Cleopatra?" I asked.
"Yes, I dream about being a queen, and not having to go to school or help with the dishes or do the laundry." Making a grandiose gesture, she elaborated, "In my daydream there are servants to do all the chores, and prepare my food, and fan me with palm fronds, and anoint my feet with oil." She giggled. "I know, that's pretty silly."
I thought for just a moment, and made a quick decision. "Take off your shoes and socks," I told her, "and lie down on the sofa. I'll be right back."
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"You'll see," I told her, motioning her to stay where she was. Then I went to the kitchen and started rummaging through the cabinets.
"What are you looking for?" she called out a couple minutes later.
I ignored the question. "Are you shoes off yet?" I called back.
"Yes," she replied as I returned to the living room, "and my socks too. Now what on earth are you going to do?"
"Lie back on the sofa like I told you," I instructed. "The queen is going to have her feet anointed."
"You're funny," she laughed, but she stretched out on her back, then gave me a sly look. "What about the fans?"
"Well, we're fresh out of palm fronds, but I'll see what I can do." I moved over to the living room windows and opened a couple of them. The spring evening was still quite warm, and a soft breeze blew in, carrying the sweet scent of some flowering shrubs. Then I took her foot in my hands and began rubbing in the safflower oil I'd found in the kitchen.
"The oil's warm," she said, surprised. "Oh, it feels nice that way."
"Cleopatra would have loved microwave ovens," I told her. "Now close your eyes and relax." For the next ten minutes I massaged her feet, and Ari just sighed. "You forgot something," I said as I finished. "Wait right here." I paid another visit to the kitchen, then quickly returned.
"Ok, what did I forget?" Ari asked me.
"Peeled grapes," I answered. "Servants always feed peeled grapes to their queen."
"We don't have any grapes in the house," she said suspiciously. "I put away all the groceries yesterday myself, so I'm sure of it."
"Close your eyes and open your mouth," I told her. She hesitated. "Trust me." She hesitated again, then did as I asked, and I dropped in a little colored cube.
For a second her facial expression alternated between shock and puzzlement, then she burst out laughing so hard she almost spit out her treat. "Jello!" she gasped.
"It's the closest thing I could find in your fridge, and it saves a lot of time not having to peel it." When she stopped laughing enough to lie back down I fed her the remaining few cubes, then suggested a scalp massage.
"That wasn't part of my fantasy, either," she pointed out.
"Maybe it should have been," I replied, and started running my fingers lightly through her hair. She clearly didn't object, so I began to massage in earnest, and she became even more relaxed. After a few minutes, heady with our newfound level of intimacy, I let my fingers drift over her face, lightly stroking her skin, and then down to her arms. I certainly wasn't going to suggest removing any more clothing at this point, so I stroked her arms through the thin material. The front of her blouse had parted a bit between two buttons, the gap giving me a small but tantalizing glimpse of a smooth white bra underneath, but I decided not to press my luck by touching her anywhere else. When her arms were done I ended the massage.
"That was nice, Scott," Ari murmured. "Thank you."
"You're most welcome, my Queen."
She sat up and smiled at me. "I've been greedy, getting all the attention. Now it's your turn again. Tell me another fantasy." She seemed quite sincere and completely comfortable with me, and I was glad I hadn't spoiled things by trying to fondle her anywhere she wasn't ready for. I blushed a little as another idea came to mind, and noticing that she said, "I can tell you're already thinking of something specific. Tell me what it is."
She patted the sofa next to her, and I sat where she indicated.
"I can't," I said. "It's too personal."
"Is it about us?" I nodded yes. "Maybe you could tell me just a little of it?" I said nothing. "I know you well enough to be sure it isn't anything bad."
"No, nothing like that," I assured her. "It wouldn't hurt anybody; it's just kind of - different."
"So tell me."
"It's something I'd like you and I to do together," I said, "but you probably wouldn't want to."
"How do you know?" she replied. "You thought I wouldn't want to go steady, but I've actually been hoping you'd ask me." I raised my eyebrows in surprise, but was still tongue-tied, so Ari added, "If you're really that embarrassed I won't push you anymore, but I'm your girl now, so if you ever want to tell me you can. Just telling me about it doesn't mean we have to do it, you know."
"How about if we just take it one step at a time?" I stammered.
"Of course," Ari agreed. "Can you tell me the first part?"
"I'd like to go outside with you, stand barefoot in the grass, and look up at the stars together."
"That's sweet," she said, standing up. "Take off your shoes and let's go. You worry too much."
I removed my shoes and socks, Ari took my hand in hers, and we walked outside. In the center of the yard, as far as possible from any trees that would drop leaves into it, was an above-ground pool with a small deck. Of course the best spot to look at the stars without trees blocking our view was also in the center of the yard, right next to the pool.
Ari briefly dipped her hand into it. "You didn't happen to bring a bathing suit, did you?" she asked me. I nodded that I had not. "That's too bad; it's so warm it would have been a nice night for a swim."
My heart pounded, but I didn't yet dare follow up on that remark. "Let's look at the stars," I suggested, and when I slipped my arm around Ari's waist, she snuggled up to me. For a while we picked out the constellations we'd learned in our earth science class, then she kissed me on the cheek.
"You said this was the first part of your fantasy. Are you ready to tell me the second?"
For a moment I was speechless, not sure how much to ask for. "Well," I told her, "whenever I see a picture of a beautiful woman with beads of water on her face, it always seems to make her so much more beautiful." I hesitated. "You're beautiful, and I'd like to see you with your face wet."
She laughed softly. "That's easy, but my make-up will run."
"You don't need make-up anyway."
She thought for a moment, and seemed to realize that I was completely serious. "Then let me go wash it off. I'll be right back." She walked back to the house, but soon returned, walked to the pool, and splashed some water onto her face. "How's this?" she asked.
She had used enough water to leave droplets all over her face, and each one glistened in the beam of the floodlight shining from the back of her house. "Wonderful," I told her. "Thank you so much." Then I added, "And thank you for not laughing at my being silly."
"Scott, I won't ever laugh at you. This is no sillier than my pretending to be Cleopatra."
"You won't tell anyone?"
"Of course not. It's private, just between you and me, and I won't ever tell a soul." I kissed her, and she gave me a hug. "Now what's the next part?" she said. "Please share the rest with me."
"Well, I'd like to see your feet wet, too. Wet feet are so sexy."
Without another word she climbed up the ladder to the small deck adjacent to the pool. As I followed her onto the deck, she rolled up her jeans cuffs and dipped her feet into the pool. They sparkled as she withdrew them and set them on the deck, and I was getting so aroused that without thinking I bent over and kissed her feet. Then, struck with a feeling that I'd done something monumentally stupid, I shook my head and started to turn away.
"Scott," Ari said firmly, "come sit next to me." I did. "Look at me." I did, and the gentleness in her eyes made me feel things would be all right after all. Then her voice became very soft again. "You've shown me something very private, haven't you? A side of yourself you've never shown anyone else?" I nodded. "And you're afraid that I won't like you because of that?" I nodded again, and she shook her head as if she just couldn't believe something. "Scott, you've got it all backwards. I don't want a boyfriend who hides himself from me. Most guys never let their girlfriends see who they really are. You're opening up and letting me in, and that's what's so special about you. It's exactly what every girl wants, and it's what I want."
"Really?" I asked, stunned.
"Really," she said confidently. "A relationship isn't about liking the same movies, or cheering the same team. It's about knowing each other, trusting each other, accepting each other. That's what's important."
"I trust you, Ari."
"And I accept you, Scott," she replied. I took her hand and squeezed it, and she smiled. "Now, what comes after the feet?" I looked at her in amazement. "Come on, I can tell there's more. What comes next?"
I took several deep breaths before I was able to speak. "I saw a couple of squirt guns on the grass," I began.
"Yes, we got them for when our relatives come over with their kids."
I took one more deep breath. "I'd love to have a water fight with you."
"Well, it's certainly warm enough for that, but those are the high-powered 'water canons' that can really drench you," Ari told me, "and you don't have a bathing suit with you tonight. You could take off your shirt, but your pants would get pretty wet."
"That's ok. I don't mind."
"Well, if that's ok with you, it's ok with me. I'll go put my bathing suit on and come right back ..."
"No," I interrupted quickly. "No bathing suit. Just like you are, with all your clothes still on. I'll leave all mine on, too. There's no fun in trying to soak somebody if they're specially dressed for it."
"Oh." She pondered that for a moment, and the suspense nearly killed me. "Is that part of your fantasy? Squirting each other like this, without changing first?" I nodded, barely breathing. "It sounds kind of naughty, getting all our clothes wet on purpose," she mused, then gave me a funny look. "You're not naughty very often, are you?"
"No," I admitted sheepishly.
"Neither am I," she replied, with more than a hint of wistfulness in her voice. I followed her gaze as her eyes ran slowly over her own jeans and blouse, seeming to consider them carefully. "Ok."
"Ok?" I asked incredulously.
"Yes, ok. It's not that big a deal, Scott, and I'm going to wash all my clothes tomorrow anyway when I do the laundry. I told you, you worry too much." We both climbed down the ladder back to the grass. "I'd better turn off the floodlight so the neighbors can't watch us, though. Do you have anything that can't get wet?" I pulled out my wallet and handed it to her, then noticed her watch and pointed at it. "Waterproof," she said, then jogged over to the house to kill the light, tossed my wallet into my car, and was back in a moment.
Picking up the squirt guns she handed one to me, then showed me how they worked. We filled them both from the pool, using a small bucket that had apparently been left there for just that purpose. "Ten paces in opposite directions," Ari said, and we began marching. Just as I reached nine, I felt a huge blast of cool water on my back. "Gotcha," she laughed, right behind me, but ran out of range before I could recover from my surprise. She was right about these really leaving you soaked; the back of my white polo shirt was drenched through to my skin. Well, so much the better, I thought. For the next couple of minutes we chased each other around the yard, but so warily that neither of us could score a decent hit. We both ran dry at about the same time, so Ari suggested a truce to reload.
We did so, but this time did our pacing apart facing each other. At the count of ten I started back across the yard toward Ari, but she ran to the far side of the pool and ducked down. I couldn't see which way she was going, but she couldn't see me either, so I figured I had a 50/50 chance. I picked a direction at random and started around the pool as quickly and quietly as I could. In bare feet that wasn't too hard, and luck was with me: I soon saw her, crouched down and facing away from me. She hadn't seen me yet, and those dark blue jeans snug across her butt were just too much to resist. I scored a nice long direct hit right where I was aiming, knowing from experience with my shirt that the water must be blasting right through into her underpants. I couldn't see them, but from my one brief glimpse earlier in the evening I knew they were there, and just the thought of those white panties getting soggy and clinging to the parts of her that I'd never seen or touched was enough to get me very excited.
Ari squealed and jumped up, returning fire and drenching the front of both my shirt and my khaki slacks. I wasn't entirely sure, but there was a gleam in her eye that suggested she was aware of the sexual connotation of my choice of target, and that although she probably wouldn't admit it she was actually pleased by it. I ran toward her, holding my fire until she ran out of ammunition again, then soaked the whole back of her blouse when she turned to run away. Her blouse was quite opaque but fairly thin, and it now clung to her back so tightly that the whole outline of her bra stood out in sharp relief. I caught up to her as she was madly trying to refill her squirt gun from the pool, then emptied my gun in another blast that re-wetted her bottom. When I grabbed her around the waist, she gave up on reloading and switched to using the bucket itself to dump water on me. I let her continue until I was completely wet, then pulled it away from her and poured bucket after bucket over her until the front of her blouse was as drenched and clinging as the back, watching intently the whole time as the water cascaded down, first into the front of her pants and then all the way down her legs, leaving her jeans completely dark and shiny.
Finally we both stopped, panting and clutching each other, laughing and leaning against the pool sidewall for support. "That was great," Ari said. "I wouldn't have thought of it, but I'm glad you did. You're a lot of fun when you just loosen up a little." Then she gave me a quick little kiss on the cheek.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did," I told her. In fact I was massively aroused by the sight and feel of having the girl of my dreams right there in my arms with her blouse and jeans and underwear all dripping wet, so much so that I was hardly able to think of anything else, but I did my best to conceal it. "You said before that it would be a nice night for a swim. Since we're already soaked anyway, how about a dip?"
"Why not?" she chirped, clambered quickly up the ladder, and slipped into the pool. I was close behind her all the way, admiring the view, and though she dove underwater and swam to the other side of the pool I soon caught up with her. We chased each other around for a few minutes, but when we stopped to catch our breath I took both her hands and drew her to me, and she melted into my arms in the chest-deep water. I kissed her, slowly and tenderly, and this time we managed to do it without mashing our noses. Then we just stood in each other's arms for a long time, her head pressed close against me, one of my hands stroking her back, the other caressing her wet hair. It was a very sensuous moment I never wanted to end, but end it did, and all too soon.
"Oh, no!" Ari suddenly gasped, looking at her watch.
"What's wrong?"
"It's 9:55, and my Mom said you have to leave by 10. Oh, Scott, I don't want you to go, but I know my parents are going to ask you next time if you left when you were supposed to, and I want you to be able to tell them the truth."
This wasn't the way I wanted to end the evening at all, and my conscience and libido locked in a brief but furious struggle. "I hate to leave you, but you're right," I finally agreed, not wanting to spoil my chances for the future. "I'd better get going."
We climbed out of the pool and walked dripping back toward my car. The sight of Ari's soaking clothes and hair all pasted tight against her gorgeous trim body, rivulets of water still running off her, the shape of her wet bra showing clearly through her blouse, the way her sopping jeans followed the wiggle of her hips as she walked, and the thought of her soaked panties squishing around inside them, all made me feel ready to explode, but there would be ample time for that after I got home. Then, suddenly, I felt pangs of guilt, as if I had tricked her.
"Before I go," I blurted out in confession, "I have to tell you something. I think you're incredibly sexy when you're all wet, with all your clothes clinging to you, and I knew you would be, and that's what my fantasy was really all about."
She giggled, and blushed. "I know," she said, so quietly I could hardly hear her.
"You do?" I asked, unbelieving. "And you don't mind?" She answered with a quick nervous nod and cast her eyes downward, her blush deepening. "Oh Ari, you're so beautiful I just wanted to see you all sexy, but I like you so much and I was afraid you'd be mad if ..."
She was looking up at me again, smiling, with that gentleness in her eyes that made me melt. Her hand reached up, brushed the damp hair away from my forehead, and came to rest softly on my cheek. "You worry too much," she whispered. I pulled her close and gave her a hard kiss, holding her tight and relishing the feel of her warm, lithe body through her thin, soaked blouse, and she pressed her lips against mine with equal enthusiasm. "Now go," she insisted, glancing at her watch, "It's 10:00." Reluctantly I pulled away from her and got into my car. "I don't want my parents mad at you, because I want you to keep coming back." She started back toward the house, then turned, smiled, and added, "As often as you can."
Ari and I continued to develop our relationship in the following weeks. When I gave her a good-night kiss on our next date, I made it a long, lingering one, and she surprised me by briefly brushing my lips with the tip of her tongue. By the time I realized what was happening it was all over, but I resolved that our next date would be to the drive-in so we'd have plenty of opportunity to try that again.
A few days later the date was set, and I was invited to come over early to join her family for dinner. When we finished eating it was still fairly early, and Ari mentioned that since she'd been doing laundry and hadn't had time to hang it on the line to dry yet, she'd better do that before we left for the movie. Naturally I offered to help out, knowing that it never hurts to have your girlfriend's parents see what a helpful and considerate gentleman you are, and I soon found myself standing in the backyard with Ari, a bag of clothespins in hand and a basket of wet clothes between us.
We both began hanging the damp garments on the clothesline, which was fine until I happened to grab a pair of dark jeans. Only after I shook them out and started to clip them to the line did I notice that they were Ari's jeans - in fact, the very same ones she'd worn in the pool with me. I couldn't help but contemplate the fact that not only were they once again quite wet, but here they were right in my hands, and then of course I couldn't help but get turned on by the multitude of thoughts that triggered.
Hoping that Ari wouldn't notice my reaction, I turned quickly to the basket for another item to hang up, and in my nervous haste I grabbed whatever was at the top of the basket. As luck would have it, that turned out to be one of her bras, and since she was reaching for the basket at the same moment, it was too late to throw it back. Our eyes met for an instant, and it was a toss-up which of us blushed more as I hung the moist bit of lingerie on the line. I was considerably more careful about my remaining selections, passing over anything that looked even vaguely feminine in favor of stuff that obviously belonged to her Dad. Even that proved no panacea, as the sight of Ari handling her own damp panties still turned me on, but at least it wasn't quite so embarrassing.
Our efforts at the clothesline completed, we finally set out for the movie, and after finding a good parking spot at the drive- in, we got our soft drinks and popcorn and settled in for the feature. Fortunately, the movie was not exactly riveting, so we had time and attention to pursue other interests. Our snuggling soon turned into kissing, and when Ari brushed my lips with her tongue again, it was clearly a deliberate invitation. I accepted it, tentatively at first, but soon our enthusiasm grew, and by middle of the film our tongues were thoroughly familiar each other. I was left heady from so much warm, wet intimacy.
"I've never kissed anyone like that before," I told Ari, releasing our tight embrace for a moment.
"Me neither," she said, "but my cousin told me all about it, and it sounded like fun."
"It is fun. I like it."
"I'm glad you like it," she replied. "I do, too."
"So, who's this cousin of yours?"
"Her name is Cathy. She finished college a couple years ago, and even though she's a lot older than me we've always gotten along well. She's an only child, too, and she kind of treats me like her little sister. When she comes over to visit we talk a lot."
"What do you talk about?" I asked.
"Oh, you know, girl stuff."
"Like the fine points of French Kissing?" I replied, and she blushed. "I've got a hunch that's not all she told you about guys. Being an older woman and all," I teased, "she must have a lot of experience with things like that."
"Actually, she does," Ari laughed. "She's kind of wild, and she's had a lot of boyfriends. My Mom thinks it's good for me to have somebody older to talk to, but she's warned me that the rules are different at our house. Cathy has told me about doing things with guys I'd never even dream of doing." Then in a very soft voice she added, "except maybe someday with you."
I took the hint, held her tight again, and began kissing her, but not just on the lips. I kissed her forehead, and her hair, and worked down the side of her face across her ears and cheeks. The movie action on the screen was the last thing either of us were thinking of as I let my hand wander lightly onto her breast for the first time. She didn't pull away at all, so I kissed her neck while my fingers lightly stroked her through her blouse, feeling the delicate texture of her bra underneath, and following the deepening rise and fall of her chest as her breathing became heavier. Something else was rising, too, so I figured that was far enough for one night and returned to snuggling.
"You know what I like about you, Scott?" she asked, as we settled back into a comfortable viewing position.
"What?"
"You make me feel very sexy and wanted, but you don't push too hard." In reply I just cuddled up a little closer, and we watched the rest of the movie.
The next day there was a big family barbecue at her house and Ari had invited me to it. There were lots of cousins and various other kids there, most of whom quickly ended up splashing around in the pool, and as it got warmer and warmer Ari and I decided to join them. I was already wearing my swim trunks, but Ari didn't have a bathing suit on yet and had to go inside to change. After a few minutes she returned in a simple white two-piece that, while relatively modest by modern standards, left me aware of nothing in the world but her nubile figure.
Her Mom saw something else, though. "Ari," she called, "you haven't been out in the sun much this year, and your tan isn't enough to protect you. You're going to burn something awful if you're exposed like that for very long."
"Oh," Ari replied, stopping short. "I forgot about that. I hate all those gooky chemicals in sunscreen, though. Do you think I could just wear an old shirt over this?"
"Yes, honey, I think that would be a good idea. Not a white one, though; you know that won't block the sun well enough."
"Ok, Mom." She returned to the house, and soon returned in a very large black T-shirt which extended far below her waist. She was also carrying a short piece of white clothesline, which she quickly knotted around her waist as a belt, making the shirt look fashionably like a very short dress.
"Hey, Ari, why'd you get all dressed up?" joked her father. "Weren't you going to go swimming?"
"Oh, Dad, this would be so grody if I just let it hang. I don't want to look like a bag lady." She and I walked over to the pool, and after jumping in myself I watched her enter the pool. With that simple piece of sash cord she had transformed her T-shirt into a close simulacrum of normal street-wear, and in spite of knowing perfectly well that she was actually wearing a conventional bathing suit, I soon succumbed to the surprisingly convincing and not at all unwelcome illusion of her being fully clothed. As she slowly descended the ladder, I willingly allowed my imagination to take control of my perceptions, and the vision my eyes reported to my mind was that of the lovely girl of my dreams happily lowering herself into the pool while clad in a black mini-dress. The water was only waist-deep on us, but she immediately pinched her nose and dipped under the surface to soak herself completely, and I instantly found myself getting aroused.
The effect was especially pronounced when, as she moved around the pool, the lower part of her garment billowed up to give teasing, blurred glimpses of the submerged white bottom that was now nominally concealed beneath it. Somewhere in the back of my brain I knew it was a swimsuit bottom and was therefore both meant to be seen and meant to get wet, but the sight was indistinguishable from an illicit and tantalizing flash of sodden white panties, and that was the image to which my body responded. On the few occasions when she climbed out of the pool for a moment to retrieve some toy that had been thrown too far, the effect on me became even more powerful, because that was when the soaked, shiny, black fabric clung most closely to her slender, lithe body. At those times the outline of her two-piece suit showed through clearly, mimicking the outline of underwear remarkably well, and I was glad the water covered all of me below waist level.
After an hour or two the men-folk had finished fiddling around with the grills and charcoal and there was finally some food ready to eat, so we climbed out of the pool and walked over to one of the tables that were set up on the lawn. Her Mom stopped us before we got there. "Honey, wring out that shirt before you sit at the table," she told Ari, "so you won't drip all over the food." Ari complied, first removing her improvised belt, then peeling off the shirt, her muscles tensing and her body stretching as she pulled the heavy, sopping fabric upwards. That action made her two-piece white swimsuit, still soaking wet itself, tighten ever so snugly around her curves, looking for all the world like wet underwear. For an instant it appeared, at least to me, that she was stripping, and I became so distracted that I choked on my pop.
Ari's Dad looked at me with concern. "You ok, Scott?"
I nodded, pointed at my throat, and croaked, "Swallowed a fly," grasping at the first convenient excuse that came to my mind.
"Want a drink to wash it down? You're 18 now, you could have a beer to sterilize it." He winked at me.
My voice was slowly returning. "No thanks, Mr. Kelley," I rasped.
"Oh, Scott doesn't drink," Ari told him, pulling her damp shirt back on after wringing it out.
Her Dad looked pleased but surprised. "I tried it," I explained, "but I didn't like the taste. I know a lot of kids just drink to get drunk, but I never saw the fun in throwing up and falling down. When I have fun, I like to be able to remember it afterwards."
Her Dad gave a deep belly-laugh. "You're wise beyond your years, son. I was a lot older than you are when I finally caught onto that."
The rest of the afternoon passed without incident, and although I was sure Ari's parents must have noticed the way I kept looking at her and stuck close by her side all the time, they didn't seem to mind. It still appeared that they approved of me, which was a great relief to me since it meant I could go on spending a lot of time there.
The barbecue ran on into the evening, and the non-stop food meant that lunch just gradually turned into dinner. All the kids had been called out of the pool, and in the summer heat Ari and I had long since dried out after our swim. When it started to get dark folks begin to drift away, but I offered to stay awhile and help clean up. Of course my ulterior motives were no secret to anyone, but the offer was accepted anyway. Ari, her folks, and I all worked together, and the task went quickly until, as we were finishing up with cleaning the grills, a small part came loose.
"I can fix that," I volunteered. "I have one of those Swiss Army Knives with a bezillion attachments. I think it's in my car, if I can just find it."
"Thanks, Scott," replied Mrs. Kelley, "that would be a big help. Ari, everything else is almost done here, and it's getting pretty dark. Why don't you go help him look for it?" She smiled at me conspiratorially as Ari and I turned to walk to my car, which was parked some distance away. Yes, she definitely approved of me.
Our high-school graduation was fast approaching, and everyone was busy making plans for big celebrations when I got a call from Bob, a fellow I had been tutoring. The word around school was that his Dad had bought Polaroid back when nobody had heard of it, and now they were - by our standards, anyway - set for life. Bob's Dad said he didn't want him hobnobbing with rich spoiled brats, though, so Bob still went to the public school, and in spite of his family's money he was a nice guy and was well-liked.
Anyway, he was calling to invite me to a huge graduation bash at his house. He made it clear that it was going to be something special, so I immediately called Ari to ask her if she'd like to go. I had something special in mind myself but wasn't sure Ari would go for it, so after she accepted my initial invitation, I chose my words very carefully.
"Bob said they have a big in-ground pool there," I told her. "I think some people are planning to go swimming."
"Scott, if half of what I've heard about parties at that place is true," Ari replied, "you can count on everybody ending up in the pool, whether they plan to or not."
That's exactly what I was hoping would happen, but I was afraid she might not like the idea. "Is that ok with you?"
"Of course it is," she assured me. "I love the water, and you know perfectly well that I'm a good swimmer. What's the problem?"
"None at all," I said quickly, "but we'd better bring some towels."
"Oh, we have lots of beach towels here," she offered. "I'll bring enough for both of us, and we'll each bring our own bathing suit."
"Um, well, maybe," I stammered.
"What do you mean, maybe?" she asked. "Don't you want to swim?"
"Sure I do," I confirmed, pulling myself together, "but I've been thinking about that, and here's the problem: It would be tacky to show up in our swimsuits, so we'd need to bring them along and plan to put them on before we go in the pool. My friends have told me about Bob's parties too, though, and apparently they do get pretty wild, which means there's a good chance that somebody will throw us in without giving us a chance to change. So, I was kind of thinking that it might be prudent to assume that could happen, and for us each to have a dry change of clothes in the car to wear home after the party."
"That sounds like a good idea," she replied. "I'm glad you thought of it. I'll bring an extra change of clothes, just in case."
Now was the opportunity I'd been setting up so painstakingly. "Well, if we both do that, maybe we don't need to bring our suits at all," I hazarded. "Since we'll be prepared to go into the pool on the spur of the moment anyway, maybe it would be simpler to just plan to do it that way. Then we can relax and have fun and not have to worry about when we should change." I held my breath and crossed my fingers that she'd go along, and not see through my ruse. "After all, it is our graduation night, and our one big chance to be crazy, and even if we don't get thrown in I'd hate to be waiting in line to change in the bathroom while everybody else is having a good time in the water. What do you think?"
"If we wore our swimsuits under our clothes," Ari suggested, "then we wouldn't have to use the bathroom to change."
I'd already thought of that objection and had my answer ready. "Yes, but it might not be very comfortable to be wearing nylon all night. Besides, if we get thrown in it wouldn't help. Our clothes would still get all wet anyway, so having swimsuits wouldn't serve any purpose."
"I guess that's logical," she agreed, after considering my proposal briefly, "and it would be simpler if we didn't have to change at all. And I have to admit, it would be fun to be totally crazy for once. Ok."
"As long as you won't feel embarrassed swimming around with your clothes on," I felt obliged to add.
"Normally I would," she told me, "but it's a sure bet we won't be the only ones doing it, so we'll probably fit right in." She paused for a moment, then giggled. "Besides," she continued, "I have a hunch you might like to see me go into a pool again with all my clothes on. Would you?"
So much for my ruse. "Yes," I admitted sheepishly, "I would," and even on the phone I blushed.
"Then I will," she informed me, "but there's something I'd like at the party, too."
"What's that?"
"I'd like you to dance all the slow dances with me, no matter who else asks you. Every single one of them. I want the whole school to know you're mine."
"You've got it!" I assured her. "You know you're my one-and-only. But what if there isn't any slow music?"
"Slow-dance with me anyway," she told me.
I wasn't much of a slow-dancer, but somehow I'd manage. "All right, you've got that, too."
"Then it's settled," Ari concluded. "This is starting to sound like a fun party."
As it turned out, it wasn't quite settled. Both Ari's parents and mine had also heard about the parties at Bob's house, and they had other ideas about how their offspring should be celebrating. Ari and I had to work hard at it, but we were able to engineer a compromise: After the formal graduation ceremony, both families would take us out to a nice dinner together, and then we'd be allowed to go to the party. The deciding factor turned out to be the fact that my folks had already let me try alcohol at home and I hated the stuff, so I was guaranteed to be a sober driver. A lot of the kids were doing an all-night deal at a hotel, but that was too much to ask for. The compromise there was that I had to bring Ari home by 2 AM and could sleep on the couch at her house, and then we could meet the other kids at the hotel for a late breakfast. All in all, a good deal, and I silently paid homage to Mr. Foseck, our English teacher who had drilled us in debating and negotiating skills.
There was one other condition that was added - privately - by Ari's Mom. The week before the big night, I had taken Ari out to a movie, and on the way home she told me to stop at a pharmacy. When we pulled in to the parking lot, she just sat quietly. "Did you need to get something here?" I finally asked, puzzled.
"Um, this is really awkward," she said, and I waited for her to continue. "My Mom said if you're going to take me to the party at Bob's, then first you have to ... do something."
"Ok," I said. "What is it?"
She was turning red as a beet, and could barely get the words out. "She said you have to buy condoms."
"What for?" I objected. "We're not, uh, you know, doing anything."
"I know, and she knows, too," Ari replied, "but she insisted. She said she knows you're a careful driver, but she still wouldn't let me ride with you if your car didn't have seat belts. She said she remembers what it's like to be young, and that this was the same thing."
"I've never bought, um, those before," I muttered. "If anybody sees me they're going to think we're ... well, you know what they'll think. I'm going to be pretty embarrassed."
"Yea, my Mom said you would be. I offered to just get them myself but she said you had to buy them to prove you really care about me and will always keep me safe."
"Well, it still seems screwy to me, but I guess she's pretty cool about everything else. Ok, if that's what it takes to keep her happy, I'll go get them." There was a long pause. "Ari?"
"Yes?"
"How many do we need?" That broke the tension, and we were both overcome with uncontrollable giggles for a few minutes.
"She didn't say," Ari finally managed to gasp. "How many seat belts do you have?" When I entered the store I was at least as embarrassed as I expected to be, and I also picked up a bottle of aspirin and a package of corn chips and a couple magazines and a bottle of shampoo so the crucial item wouldn't be quite so obvious, but the cashier didn't even blink when I paid for them, and it was all over before I could chicken out.
The following week, on the night of our graduation, we all showed up at the high-school auditorium. Everything was pretty hectic with distributing caps and gowns and trying to get the right size to everybody, and I never even got a chance to see what Ari was wearing before she put her gown on. The ceremony itself was entirely predictable, and it seemed to go on and on and on. We all knew the whole thing was really for our parents, though, and we were going to have our celebration later, so we didn't mind.
Finally the speeches were all over, the diplomas all handed out, and the pictures of graduates with their families all taken. Ari and I found each other and introduced our parents, who had talked on the phone but had never actually met. When we returned our caps and gowns, I saw that Ari had worn something that I really liked and had complimented her on before: a short sleeved mini-dress made of a soft, royal blue velour with red trim. The hemline was cut so high that the outfit included matching blue velour hot pants underneath, but Ari managed to carry herself so modestly that they hardly ever showed. It was safe to assume that she'd brought something else to wear to the party, but I still looked forward to seeing her wear that dress all through dinner.
Both families then went to the restaurant that had been chosen, and fortunately her folks and mine got along quite well. Ari and I were seated next to each other, and soon I felt something brushing against my leg. Glancing down, I saw that Ari had slipped off her shoe and was playing footsie with me. Her mini-dress gave generous exposure to her long, bare legs, and I had to resist the urge to reach out and stroke them right then and there. I tried to concentrate on the delicious food, but my attention was hopelessly riveted on Ari the whole time. Watching her slender, delicate fingers manipulate the tableware made me want to take her hands and kiss them, and when I saw her lick her lips at the end of a bite it was almost too much to bear. As good as the food was, I couldn't wait for the meal to end, but of course I had to hide that from everyone else.
Thankfully, our folks turned us loose in time to get to the party before things really got hopping. When we arrived at Bob's place I parked the car, then reminded Ari that we might end up in the pool and asked her if she needed to change.
"No," she replied, surprised. "What for? The towels and my spare clothes are in back, and I thought we agreed to be crazy and skip the swimsuits."
"We did," I agreed. "All my clothes are washable so I'm ready for the pool right now, but that's such a nice dress I assumed it wasn't what you were willing to get wet in."
"Oh, don't worry, water won't hurt it," she told me. "This dress is washable, too, so I don't mind if I get thrown into the pool in it. My purse isn't waterproof, though, so I'm going to leave that in the car. You'd better do the same with your wallet."
I did, my heart pounding as I imagined what the rest of the evening would bring, and we walked into house. That's where the munchies were, so that's where everybody was at first. After a while somebody started music out on the patio, and a few people started drifting out to dance. Ari and I joined them, and Ari got her slow dances. I must admit, after a while the idea of slowly rocking back and forth with her in my arms, her head resting on me, and her hands around my neck, began to really grow on me, and pretty soon I didn't mind at all. Every time I stroked her back and felt the back of her bra I'd get excited and nuzzled her neck to kiss her, and she'd roll her head back so I could kiss both sides. We were both feeling really good, but then the music switched to rock for a while, so we got soft drinks, sat down at a little table, took off our shoes, and began to just talk.
We hadn't been there for long when Bob came by, and beckoned me off to talk to him in private. When we were alone away from the crowd, he pressed a key into my hand.
"What's this?" I asked him.
"A little thank-you," he replied. I looked at him, confused, and he continued. "You've been helping me all year with my remedial math work," he explained. "I know my Dad was paying you, but you've been a lot more patient than any tutor I've ever had before, and without you I probably wouldn't have graduated this year." I started to disagree, but he interrupted me. "Hey, I had to pass that class to get my diploma, and you know better than anyone how much trouble I was having with it." He motioned over to the building next to the pool. "The big room in the pool-house is open tonight, but around back next to the filters there's a door to a small, private room. That key opens it, and you're the only person who has one tonight so nobody will interrupt you. It's the least I could do." We shook hands silently, he quickly walked off to join the rest of the party, and I pocketed the key.
"What was that all about?" asked Ari when I returned.
"He was thanking me for helping him with his math," I explained, and we returned to our conversation. Other friends drifted by and chatted, and we occasionally got up to dance again. Every time we stood up I admired the way Ari's dress draped itself over the curves of her small, firm bust and her well-proportioned backside, slipped my hands around her waist and felt that smooth velour against her slim, warm body, then glanced over at the pool and hoped it would not lie idle much longer.
At one point when our drinks ran dry and Ari took both cups back for refills, she made a detour on the way back that brought her next to the pool. Stepping onto the edge at one corner, she began walking slowly along the lip, one drink in each hand, her arms spread wide in the manner of tightrope-walker. "Hey, look everyone," someone called out, "Ari's going to fall in."
"No, I won't," she replied nonchalantly, and continued tiptoeing along the edge, swaying a little from side to side, her bare toes gripping the edge, until she'd covered the whole length of the pool. True to her word, she maintained her balance and stayed dry, then returned to our table and set down the drinks. "Why are you looking at me so funny?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"
"No," I laughed, realizing that I'd been staring at her, "but I must confess that I'm a little disappointed you didn't fall in." She gave me an indignant look. "Don't get me wrong," I quickly assured her, "I would have been happy to join you. It's just that the pool looks so empty, I was hoping maybe you were impatient for a swim and were looking for an excuse to get things started."
"The night is still young," she retorted, "and a girl shouldn't giver her guy everything he wants right away." She tweaked my nose playfully and smiled. "Don't worry, with this many people celebrating I think the odds are good that we'll need those towels we brought before the night is over."
Ari's assurance notwithstanding, the pool stayed empty for what seemed like a long time. It wasn't so bad, though, because this slow-dancing thing kept getting better and better, and we did a lot of it.
Then, right at midnight, there was a scream and everyone stopped talking. Bob had grabbed his girlfriend and carried her over to the edge, and she was struggling to get loose. "It's midnight!" he yelled, "and time for a swim. Let's not let this pool go to waste!" With that he jumped in, still carrying his girl, and splashing everybody around him. Immediately guys started chasing and snatching girls, and it wasn't long before a second couple took the plunge, followed closely by a third.
Ari locked her arms around me and held me tight. "You'd better pick me up, Scott, before somebody else grabs me and throws me in." I did, but stood motionless for a minute, not quite believing this was actually happening. "Come on, don't just stand there," she urged me, "let's go." Then she looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. "Let's get crazy. I don't want to be the only girl left out of all the fun, and I know you've been waiting for this all night."
After so much anticipation, my inhibitions at last dropped a bit. "You're right," I told her, "I have been waiting for this all night," and carried her over to the steps leading into the pool. A number of couples were already splashing around in the water, and many more were jumping, climbing, or being thrown in. I started walking down the steps, and when her butt hit the water Ari screamed and squirmed.
"Ahhhhk! My dress!" she cried. I immediately froze, afraid she had changed her mind, but she quickly put her lips against my ear and whispered, "Don't stop now, silly. I wore this dress tonight especially so you could dunk me in it, but I'm supposed to pretend I don't want to get it wet; it's all part of the game." She resumed her struggles and squealing, and I tightened my grip on her, the feeling of her lithe body squirming in my hands turning me on as I slowly dragged her deeper into the water. When the water reached her waist she broke free and climbed up on my shoulders, revealing that while it was submerged the velour of her dress had absorbed water like terrycloth. Its colors had deepened, the blue nearly to black and the red trim to a deep maroon, both glistening in the overhead lights. As I grabbed her waist and pulled her back down, her squirming made her dress creep up, exposing the thoroughly drenched pair of matching blue hot pants she wore underneath. Bending my legs, I pulled us both slowly under, and Ari squealed again as the water rose to the point where I knew it must have completely saturated her bra. I loosened my grip enough to allow us both to stand up again, and immediately saw that the soaked velour fabric was now stuck to her torso like glue, making a faint outline of her bra visible even from the front. She pulled her hemline back down, and we moved to shoulder-deep water for a bit of modesty.
"You really don't mind doing this?" I asked her, still plagued by a few lingering doubts. "I mean, getting all wet like this? I didn't want to force you into anything."
Ari rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Why would I mind?" she asked patiently. "I got to choose the outfit I'd get wet in, we've got dry stuff to change into, and it was fun letting you drag me into the pool with all my clothes on." She brushed some hair out of my face, kissed me lightly on the forehead, and gave me a sly look. "Besides, I get the feeling you've been rather looking forward to seeing me swim in my dress." I blushed and nodded vigorously. "Then I'm glad we left our bathing suits at home. Now stop worrying, Scott. Just relax and have a good time." Thus reassured, I felt my physical excitement quickly mounting, and I pulled Ari close, put my hands on her hot pants under her dress and squeezed, and gave her a long, hard kiss. "My, you really were waiting for this," she said, immediately returning the kiss.
Unfortunately, we were soon surrounded by such chaos in the pool that further intimacy was out of the question. We splashed around with everyone else, the surface waves and my slacks hiding my arousal, until things began to calm down. When there were only a few of us left in the water, Ari and I even dove to the bottom and swam around underwater, but without goggles it was hard to see her clearly. When we'd had enough, Ari started to exit the pool by climbing up a ladder, her mini-dress clinging sensuously to her curves as she rose above the surface, and the soaked blue velour shining in the lights. As her butt wiggled, it squeezed her saturated hot pants tight against her two round buns and forced water to the surface of the material, where it made its way to her crotch, pooling there before escaping down her legs. This was way too stimulating for the raging hormones coursing in my veins, and I pulled her back into the water for another passionate kiss. Far from resisting, she wrapped her legs firmly around me and kissed me back just as hard. "Wow, you really do like this, don't you?" she asked quietly, and I nodded my assent. "Then we should do it again sometime."
"Ari, you make me feel like a man," I murmured to her.
"I like making you feel that way," she replied, "and you make me feel like a woman."
"Good," I replied. "Now come with me. I have a surprise for you." We waded over to the steps and climbed them back onto the patio. Ari's dress had crept up again and left part of her hot pants exposed, the outline of her bra was showing through the sopping velour clinging to her back, and she looked so incredibly sexy emerging from the water that I almost lost it and pulled her back into the pool for some serious groping. I controlled myself, though, and limited myself to an arm around her waist.
"Where are we going?" she asked, bright-eyed.
"You'll see." Couples were starting to drift off to secluded corners for necking and petting, and I led Ari through the thinning crowd on the patio, behind the pool-house, to the door beside the filters. Pulling out the key, I opened the door, ushered her inside, and quickly shut the door. "This is the thank-you I mentioned," I explained, as I found the light switch, adjusted the dimmer, and threw the deadbolt on the door. "It's just for us. Bob thought we might like some privacy, so he made sure nobody else has a key."
I was afraid this might be too much for Ari, but she put her arms around me and we melted together into another kiss. When we finished, we looked around and saw that we were in what appeared to be a large bathroom. Apparently intended to double as a changing-room, it was windowless, but the walls were painted in bright, cheerful pastels. In the center was just enough space for the big thick air mattress that was lying on the floor, already inflated, and at the end of the room a glass door led to a large shower.
"If we wash out the chlorine, maybe we can save that dress," I suggested.
"Good idea," she replied. "Then I can wear it again to the next pool party we go to. That is, if you'd like me to," she grinned. We walked across the air mattress and stepped into the shower, and I lathered up Ari's hair with shampoo, sensuously massaging her scalp.
"Shall I do your dress now?" I asked, nervous but excited.
"Please," she said hesitantly. I took some soap and covered her whole dress with it, almost delirious with arousal as I ran my hands all over her shoulders, her back, her belly, her buttocks, and then working up the nerve to caress her breasts as I worked in the lather. "Don't miss anywhere," she said, when there was only one spot left unlathered. I finished the front of her dress, confident now that she wanted this as much as I did. I thought we were done and was about to start rinsing when she pulled her hem above her waist, completely exposing the hot-pants underneath. "Do these too, please," she requested. Those pants were stuck to her bottom like glue, and I could barely make my hands obey my brain's instructions, but I lathered them up and scrubbed them, first in back and then, trembling, in front. Then I took the shower-hose and rinsed her off thoroughly. The material was so absorbent it took quite a while to get all the soap out, and I had to keep stroking it with my hands to squeeze out the soap, but neither of us were in any hurry.
"We should save your clothes, too," she suggested when we were done, and she began washing my shirt in the same way. Then she proceeded to my trousers, starting with the back, then pausing before doing the front, but continuing when I reminded her "Don't miss anywhere." After my rinse we stepped out of the shower and tumbled, dripping, onto the air mattress.
"I like the way you touch me, Scott," she said. "With some of the guys I've dated, it feels like they're taking something even if they're only looking, but with you it feels like you're giving." She looked into my eyes with that gentle look that I found irresistible. "Don't stop touching me," she said, rolling onto her stomach." I resumed stroking her, massaging her back through the sopping fabric, until she rolled face-up again. Her eyes were closed, obviously wanting me to continue, and I did. When I yielded at last to temptation and unbuttoned her dress, she opened it all the way and pulled me close. I started kissing her face, her neck, her shoulders, working all the way down to her waist where the top of her soaked hot- pants clung to her moist skin, then on the way back up to her face I kissed her breasts through her underwear. After a moment of clumsiness when I couldn't figure out how to work the front-clasp of the bra, she opened it for me, and my lips sank onto her luscious warm flesh like a kid onto a chocolate bar. This was the taste of long-forbidden delights, and I relished it.
"Now do my feet," she sighed, then quickly added, "and my legs." I changed my position and began massaging her bare feet with my hands, then slowly worked my way up both legs, stroking and caressing them. When I reached the hot pants, I began gently caressing her though the wet velour, then asked "Are these in the way?"
"Yes," she whispered back.
I peeled them back, revealing a pair of wet, white, cotton panties underneath, then slid the hot pants all the way down to her feet to remove them. I left her panties on, but continued caressing. "More," she insisted, so I slipped my hand under the thin cotton and continued. We were both inexperienced, and my hand got so tired I thought it would fall off before she was satisfied, but I wasn't about to leave her hanging. After a few minutes, though, her breathing became irregular and her fingers started to clutch me, and finally her body tensed just a little and she let out a small squeak.
"Thank you," she sighed as she relaxed, "that was so nice." Then she pulled me down onto her and held me tight. "I've never done that with a boy before. I'm glad it was with you," she whispered, and I kissed her gently on the lips. For a moment we both basked in the warm afterglow, but before I knew it she had my shirt opened and was pulling down my pants, so I lay on my back while she pulled down my underpants. She gasped as I popped out.
"I didn't realize it was so big."
"Most of the time it isn't, but it, uh, ... likes you."
"I never saw one up close before."
"You're the first to see this one."
Ari giggled. "Can I touch it?"
I laughed nervously. "I'll be pretty disappointed if you don't."
Very tentatively, she touched me, and I showed her how to stroke and squeeze me. She seemed eager now, and caught on quickly. After such a long build-up I didn't last long, and when my arousal started to crest, Ari squealed and let go. "Don't stop!" I cried, and she grabbed me again and resumed her ministrations.
"I'm sorry I let go," she apologized, after I was spent.
"That's ok, you were startled."
"I won't be next time," she assured me.
by "Sunfish"
The summer after graduation was a very enjoyable one. Ari and I saw a lot of each other, including many excursions to the beach, but somehow I was never able to find another good excuse for her to get wet with all her clothes on again. At least she wasn't one of those beach bunnies who just lie on the sand; she did like to swim and always got wet, and since even in a regular bathing suit I thought she was the sexiest, most beautiful creature on earth, I could hardly complain.
At first she always wore the same thing, a really snug-fitting white one-piece that showed off her trim figure quite effectively, but one July morning when I picked her up she seemed annoyed. "Is something wrong?" I asked.
"Oh, it's nothing you did," she grumbled. "Last time we got back from the beach I forgot to hang my suit up to dry, so this morning when I went to get ready it was too grungy to even think about wearing it today."
"Do you have another suit?" I asked, ready and eager to suggest an alternative if she didn't.
"Yea," she sighed. "I've already got it on. My white two-piece seems to be lost somewhere, so I had to wear an old suit that my Mom picked out for me."
It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to interpret her tone of voice. "Uh, I take it you don't like it," I deduced.
"It makes me look like Raggedy Ann," she muttered. I was about to point out that it would be perfectly acceptable for her to swim in her T-shirt and shorts instead when she added, "That's ok, I guess it won't kill me to look like a dork just this once." Then she forced a smile and continued, "It's a beautiful day and I'm not going to let a little thing like this ruin it. Besides, if I leave my clothes on whenever we're not in the water maybe nobody will notice, right? Let's go."
When we arrived at the shore we carried our stuff down to the sand and laid out our towels. "It's already hot," I said. "Let's get a swim in before it gets crowded, and get wet so we'll stay a little bit cool."
"Sounds good to me," she agreed.
"If you really hate your swimsuit, I won't mind if you leave your shirt and shorts on," I offered hopefully.
"No, that's ok," she said. "I can deal with it, and besides, I want something half-way dry to wear home." Then she peeled off her shirt and wiggled out of her cut-offs. "It is pretty icky, though, isn't it?" she asked me, looking down at her suit with dismay.
"You've got to be kidding," I retorted. The dreaded Mom-chosen outfit was now revealed to be a two-piece affair with a modest halter-style top and a matching and equally modest skirted bottom, all made of pink-and-white gingham. It was trimmed with red piping along the edges, and there were three little red bows attached, one centered in the front of her top and one on each side of the skirt's waistline. "That looks great on you," I told her. She grimaced and dismissed my comment with a wave, but I didn't give up. "No, really," I insisted, "I like it. You look very feminine in it. In fact, I think it's even sexier than your white one."
"You do?" she asked incredulously.
"Yes, I do," I affirmed, taking her hand. "Now let's stop wasting time and do what we came here to do." We ran across the sand and into the surf, diving into the waves when we reached thigh-deep water. Ari dove first, and as she did I noticed that panty concealed under her skirt was not of matching pink plaid as I'd expected, but rather was solid red. The water was a bit rough for true swimming, so we just splashed around for a while to cool off. I was somewhat disappointed that the gingham fabric of Ari's swimsuit didn't change color when it got wet, but that shortcoming was more than compensated for by the response of the solid fabric. It manifested a very distinct change in appearance, and I was enthralled by the sight of those red panties glistening and clinging to Ari's shapely derriere every time she dove into a wave. Even more enervating, the attached skirt was short enough and cut loose enough that when we both sat down in shallow water to let the waves wash over us, the skirt was repeatedly swept upward, giving me a series of fleeting but rather complete views of the all the available scenery. Needless to say, I tried to arrange my position to take full advantage of such observational opportunities, and before long I was living proof of the theory of "intermittent reinforcement" - because her skirt was usually hiding what I wanted to see, my attention was far more firmly fixed on Ari than it had ever been when she'd worn her preferred and more revealing attire.
We decided to play in the breakers for a while, and so headed out into deeper water. Before long we were holding on to each other, trying to remain standing as the waves broke over us. Because we were often knocked off balance by the force of the water, we had to grab each other anywhere we could, and my hand soon ended up gripping Ari's backside under her skirt. It was under water where nobody else could see, and instead of objecting she put her arm around me to help stabilize our position. Between the waves when the water was calmer, I began to lightly fondle her a bit, to which she clearly had no objection. Alas, the impacts of the swells made it impossible to keep that up for more than a few seconds at a time, so once again intermittent reinforcement worked its wicked magic on me.
When we returned to our towels and lunches after our swim, I specifically asked Ari not to cover up her suit with her clothes, and was rewarded with another good look at her sopping bottom when she bent over the cooler to check on our lunches. A couple other times during the day I told her again how cute she looked in her skirted suit, so by the end of the day she began to suspect that perhaps I was serious about liking it and not just being nice. When I dropped her off at her house that evening, we were about to begin our usual good-night kiss when I asked her, "Which swimsuit are you going to wear next time we hit the beach?"
She laughed. "You were very polite today, but you don't have to keep pretending you like this ugly old thing. I'll wear my white suit for you next time." I turned my head away, pantomiming a refusal to kiss her. "You were actually serious, weren't you?" she asked me, amazed. I nodded. "Ok, I get the picture," she finally conceded, smiling good-naturedly. "You like chasing skirts." I grinned idiotically and nodded. "Then I'd better make sure it's mine you're chasing," she murmured, snuggling up to me, "and to do that I suppose I'll have to be wearing one. All right, you can have another date with Raggedy Ann." Upon hearing that, I wrapped my arms around her and gave her one of my best kisses. This mode of communication appeared to work well, because over the next few weeks she wore that suit a lot, without me ever having to ask again.
Of course, I would have liked it even better had she forgone swimsuits entirely, and at various times during the rest of the beach season I made a point of dropping a few not-so-subtle hints to that effect. Although I'm sure she understood what I was driving at, she didn't seem inclined to act on it, so rather than jeopardize the best relationship I'd ever had I just dropped the matter and was thankful for what I had.
Alas, summer passed all too quickly into autumn and soon we both had to move off to our respective colleges. Of course we continued to see each other as we had agreed to, and in fact did so almost every weekend, and our relationship remained strong. Unfortunately it got cold unseasonably early that year, and the dorm rooms were all doubles without any privacy, so the opportunity for getting wet either outdoors or indoors dropped from slim to none and I resigned myself to waiting until spring for warm weather to return.
Things went along nicely for months, and we were both doing well balancing our time together with our academic work. We never pushed the physical intimacy any farther than we'd gone at the graduation party, and on most weekends rather less than that - partly by choice but mostly due to lack of privacy. We were comfortable with each other, and we were both happy to simply let the emotional aspects of our relationship deepen for a while.
Then came December 31. Ari and I had both decided to return to our respective campuses early after Christmas break to get a head start on independent project work that each of us were doing. Of course, the fact that this arrangement would also make it easy for her to spend New Year's Eve at my dorm did cross our minds, but we didn't find it necessary to mention that to our parents.
The dorms at my school were kept open for a handful of international students who couldn't get home, but the campus was otherwise fairly empty. The few people still present on New Year's Eve had mostly headed out to the Student Center or local pubs, and there were only two other guys left in my whole dorm. They both had steady girlfriends coming over, too, and we had previously arranged to have our own little quiet party in the dorm lounge. We three guys got all the munchies and drinks that afternoon, and then all six of us met in the lounge after taking our dates out to dinner.
It was a pretty casual get-together, but Ari had decided to dress up a bit and brought along a gorgeous yellow dress that consisted of two layers. The inner piece was sleeveless, of thin pale yellow satiny material, with a deeply plunging neckline and stopping high above her knees. That was then covered by an overlay of even thinner cream-colored gauze with a lower hemline, higher neckline, and short sleeves. It was far too light and airy for the season, almost like a summer sundress but a bit more formal, so she didn't wear it to dinner but instead changed into it as soon as we got back to the dorm and wouldn't have to go out in the cold again. The whole thing was just loose enough to be comfortable and just tight enough to be sexy, and she looked great in it, a yellow satin sash around her waist really accentuating the smooth curves of her slim figure. One of the other girls, Tasha, had worn a skirt and sweater, but the rest of us were all in jeans and shirts. We had the TV on in the lounge to keep track of the exact time, but the sound was turned off so we could all talk. It was a congenial group, and we chatted about all kinds of things as we waited for the clock to count down. Sometimes the topics got a bit ribald, but everyone seemed comfortable with that, including, much to my surprise, Ari.
After a while each of the other women climbed into her date's lap, and when Ari followed their lead, her dress shifted to give me a quick glimpse of her white slip underneath. My blood pressure began rising, and she knew it and made a point of squirming around just enough to keep me excited. I began to wonder if a new stage in our relationship was about to begin, and it was hard to concentrate on the conversations.
It was shortly before the big moment, and the guys had just finished a sports discussion of the "perfect game," when Ari asked, "OK, now I've got a question for the ladies. What's your idea of the perfect New Year's kiss?" Everybody laughed, but Ari pressed. "No, really, I'd like to hear your ideas."
"I'll bite," said Tasha. "My man takes me to New York City, treats me to a great dinner with lots of wine, then we walk to Times Square. There is fresh snow falling and the air is crisp and clean. The kiss starts when the ball starts falling and doesn't stop until *long* after it finishes."
"How about you?" asked Ari, looking at the third woman, who was quiet and hadn't said much.
"Well, I guess mine would be on a beach in the Bahamas. We'd be walking barefoot on the sand, there would be a full moon, and a warm breeze would be wafting mysterious scents of tropical flowers out of the palm groves. The only sound we'd hear as we kissed would be a single bird calling softly into the night."
"Now your turn," said Tasha to Ari. "You have to answer your own question, you know."
"My perfect New Year's kiss would be with a wonderful man, smart, handsome, sensitive, and caring. It would be a man I'm really crazy about and love to be with." She ran her hands through my hair, making it perfectly clear who she was talking about. "We wouldn't have to be anywhere special, as long as we were together. Then, just at the stroke of midnight, he'd pull me close, hold me tight, and give me a short, tender kiss."
"Oh, lay it on a little thicker," chortled Tasha, screwing up her face. "You don't expect us to buy *that*."
"And then he'd kiss me again," continued Ari, ignoring the interruption, "only not quite so gently this time. And then again, and I'd feel his hands starting to wander." The other girls laughed. "He'd keep kissing me again and again, harder each time, and I'd feel his heart pounding and know he loved me so much he just couldn't stop." Ari was grinning, obviously having fun with this. "I'd kiss him back just as hard, our tongues entwining, and our fingers would explore each other's bodies. Then suddenly, without any warning, he'd pick me up and pull me into a steamy shower, and we'd feel the hot water streaming all over us, as torrid as our passion. Our clothes would be getting all wet but we'd be so lost in each other that we wouldn't care and would keep right on kissing until we were soaked through to the skin. It would be the hottest, wettest, kiss you could imagine." I couldn't believe what Ari was saying, and I was almost dizzy with excitement.
"And then somehow you'd have to get out of your wet things, eh?" chuckled Tasha.
"I suppose we'd manage," replied Ari with a grin, "one way or another." I'd never heard her like this before, and it was more than I would ever have hoped for.
"You've caught yourself a live one, there, Scott," laughed one of the other guys. "You gonna give her what she wants?"
I looked at Ari, and our eyes locked. "Is that what you want?" I asked. She answered with a smile and one slow nod, so I turned back to the guys. "I've never refused her anything yet," I said. "Ari always gets what she wants."
"Well I think it sounds outrageously romantic," said Tasha, turning to her boyfriend and poking him. "If Ari gets a kiss like that this year, I want one too."
"You're both nuts," he said, then turned to me. "Are you actually going to do that?" I saw the gleam in Ari's eyes, and nodded enthusiastically in the affirmative.
"Then let's go," announced Tasha.
"In your skirt and sweater?" objected her boyfriend.
"Where's your spirit of adventure and romance?" she retorted, standing up and pulling him out of his chair. "Come on, we have to hurry," she urged. "We've only got a couple minutes before midnight." Ari and I got up to follow them. "Hey, let's go," Tasha called out to the third couple, "everybody has to do this together." They looked dubious, but the guy took his girlfriend by the hand and we all trouped up the stairs to the second floor where both our rooms and the main bathroom with the showers were located.
We knew nobody else was in the building, so it didn't matter that it was a men's room, and we all went right in. "I'll get the temperature adjusted," I called out, as I ran into the showers and turned three of them on. "Let's see now, cold - warm - torrid. That should do it."
Ari had her watch adjusted to the exact time and soon started calling out the count: "Ten, nine, eight, ..." The three nozzles running and ready, I ran back to her, put my arms around her waist, and waited. When she called "Midnight!" all six of us locked into kisses. It wasn't easy holding back, but I did as Ari had described, starting slowly and building up gradually. When the moment seemed right I picked her up and carried her into the showers. Tasha cheered and followed us, her boyfriend reluctantly in tow, the third couple gingerly entered right behind them, and that was the last time I was aware of anyone but Ari that night.
As I positioned Ari under the water it hit her hair and slicked it down quickly, and after another kiss she leaned back to let the warm blast hit her face and the front of her neck. The water flooded down her chest, quickly soaking her dress so that both layers of fabric drew tightly to the form of her breasts and removed any question about what she wore under it. We kissed again, and again, slowly turning in the shower until the two of us were completely drenched. The feel of the hot water running down my shirt and inside my underpants, combined with the sight of Ari's dress becoming almost transparent in the deluge, made me more aroused than I'd been in a long time.
"I love that look in your eyes," Ari murmured, her hands clasped behind my neck.
"What look is that?"
"The look you had when we went swimming on graduation night. The same one you had after our squirt gun fight. It's the look that tells a woman she's a woman."
"Oh, Ari, there's never been any doubt in my mind about that," I told her, "but you're something even better than a woman. You're my woman."
"Your right," she agreed happily, "that is even better." She slipped out of my arms and twirled around, dancing through the other two now-vacant showers, the flimsy yellow and cream dress clinging to her as the water splashed over it. Then she stopped directly in the spray, looked at me, and licked her lips suggestively. "I want to be your woman, completely and always."
I lunged into the spray with her, pulled her close to me, and gave her yet another deep kiss. "Ari, you devil, you're driving me crazy," I whispered. "That dress is so thin, it almost disappears when it gets wet. I know you would have worn something else if you'd thought of jumping in the shower before you got dressed, but I love the way you look in it and I'm so glad you're wearing it."
"Oh, but I had thought of jumping in the shower," she corrected me. "In fact, that's exactly what I was thinking of when I picked out this dress. I bought it last week just for the occasion." Then, seeing the expression on my face, she added with a smirk, "I'm glad you like it."
"You're really tempting fate now, girl. Don't you remember what happened the last time you deliberately got wet in all your clothes?"
"I certainly do," she assured me. "That's why I haven't done it again for so long; I didn't want to tease you with something I wasn't ready for."
"Then why did you decide to wear an irresistibly sexy dress into the shower with me tonight?"
"Because I remember what happened last time."
After that, we soon reached a point where kissing wasn't enough. "I want you," I told Ari urgently. "I want you back in my room. Now." The other two couples had apparently had the same idea some time ago, because they were nowhere to be seen.
"Then take me there," she replied, so I turned off the water, took her hand and pulled her out of the shower. Her dress clung so tightly to her body and to her underthings it drove me wild with desire, and I led her quickly to my room and ushered her inside, leaving our path down the hallway marked by one of three long dripping trails. As I closed the door and turned back to Ari, I noticed that she'd taken a box of condoms out of her purse.
"I'm glad you still have those."
"Actually, the first box got outdated so I threw them away," she informed me. "I bought these to replace them."
"When did you do that?"
"This morning," she replied, opening the box and taking out one small packet.
"I love it when you take the initiative," I told her, putting my arms around her and giving her a long, deep, kiss while I squeezed her soggy backside.
"I thought you would," she said, her fingers already unbuttoning my wet shirt and peeling it off. "And I thought it was time to let you know what I was ready for." She kissed me again, her sopping dress pressed hard against my bare chest, then immediately unfastened my pants and dropped them to my ankles. I reached out to do the same for her, but she stopped me. "No. I'm feeling very daring and horny tonight, and I want to strip for you." I quickly pulled my shoes and boxers off, and stood naked in the room watching her. First she kicked off her shoes and pirouetted for me, letting me see how clearly the drenched, thin layers of fabric revealed all her underwear. Then she unfastened the outer layer of creamy gauze, peeled it off carefully and sensuously, and tossed it into the corner. Next she slowly unzipped the still-dripping inner short satin dress, wiggling her body to free herself of it, and letting it fall to the ground with a splat. When she started running her hands over her wet white slip and slowly pulling it up, I became too inflamed with lust to even remain standing, and I dropped down onto the big throw rug we had in the room. Her slip went higher, uncovering a pair of skimpy white panties that, wet as they were, left no doubt about her gender. Higher still, and her bra, a thin one even when dry, drew my attention to two additional focal points that the wispy, wet material could not even hope to conceal.
Then she tore the little packet open, knelt down beside me, and did what my own hands were trembling too much to do themselves. Her smooth skin was still glistening with beads of water, her remaining clothing providing a pretense of propriety but in reality hiding nothing, and I moaned as she stopped to stroke her sopping bra and panties, deliberately teasing me for one last moment before shedding them. Shimmying loose from those last vestiges of modesty, she dispatched the token bits of gossamer to join the rest of our clothes in a heap. By the time she pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me, I was utterly powerless to resist, and though I made a valiant attempt at endurance, the effort proved futile and the denouement followed almost immediately.
"I'm sorry," I gasped, as I caught my breath. "I tried to wait ..."
Ari touched her hands to my lips. "I keep telling you, you worry too much," she smiled. "I take it as a compliment that being with me and looking at me and touching me gets you so uncontrollably excited. Besides, I know you'll take care of me."
"Of course I will," I assured her. "But tell me, where did you learn how to be so seductive? I like it, I like it a lot, but you've never been quite like this before." Her only answer was a cryptic smile. "Oh, let me guess," I said, suddenly putting two and two together. "You've been talking to Cathy again."
Ari laughed. "It's amazing what you can learn from a big sister, even if she's really a cousin. She came over for Christmas, and we had lots of time to talk and stuff."
"And stuff?" I remarked. "That phrase sounds like it could cover quite a multitude of sins."
"Well, she did have me actually rehearse a strip-tease for her so she could critique it," she laughed, "and then she made me do it over and over again until I got it right." There was a pause, and Ari giggled. "And we won't even talk about the carrot."
"I thought you seemed awfully deft tonight, not to mention self-confident. Her techniques may be unconventional, but they must be effective to have taught you so much."
Ari smirked. "Oh, you haven't seen half of what she taught me."
"Do I get to find out about the rest of these erotic secrets?" I asked breathlessly.
"If you keep treating me right you will. Of course, she said some things take a lot of practice to get good at."
"I've got time," I replied