Ron Taylor
Naughty aunt Susan
CHAPTER ONE
None of the whale fucking mess would have happened if we'd had a pool of our own. But Daddy used to say it was foolish to spend all that money for installation and upkeep when he was paying dues at the club. If I wanted to swim, I could just trot on down. So a lot of it was his fault, or so it seems to me.
Mama and Daddy had gone downtown for the day. They were leaving for a month in Europe at the end of the week, and Mama said there were just millions of things that had to be taken care of. I wasn't going along. That was a disappointment, in its way, because I'd never been to Europe, but on the other hand, being on my own for a whole month had its attractions.
They left me off at the club for a day of swimming, and that was how it started.
The pool wasn't too crowded – mostly idle wives come to enjoy themselves – and I was floating around on my back, enjoying the flow of water across my body, when I happened to look towards the diving board.
A boy stood bouncing there, tall, tanned, well-built. He had longish dark hair, broad shoulders, and a trim waist, and his tight trunks looked as if they were painted on his body. When I saw the big lump of his cock and balls vividly outlined by the cling of his swimsuit, I felt a matching lump well up somewhere in my throat.
He swanned into the air, graceful, lissome, and when he splashed down into the water, I was waiting. Our bodies collided and my legs brushed across his cock-bulge. We both went under, him startled, me conniving, and his arms encircled me, dragging me to the surface and to safety.
"Are you okay?" he asked as he bobbed in the clear water, our feet paddling to keep us afloat. "I didn't see you."
"Yeah," I said, trying to seem flustered and shaken, "I guess so. It was my fault." His arms held me close and I wondered if he was registering the insistent rub of my tits on his chest. For curiosity's sake I skidded nearer and let my crotch bump his. His cock wasn't hard, but it felt big and powerful where my body nudged it.
"Mmm," I said, "I think I'd better get out of the water while I'm still kicking." Besides which, my skin would be starting to wrinkle before long. "Would you help me to the edge of the pool? I think I'm still a little shaky." And to prove it, I trembled weakly in his arms, my teensy shudders fluttering up and down his clutching frame.
In another couple of minutes we were both sitting at a poolside table, shaded by a tenting top, and a waitress had just brought us a pair of matching Margaritas.