Ron Taylor: Naughty aunt Susan

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.

"Is this the way you always pick up girls?" I asked, slyly letting him know that I considered myself picked up.

He just laughed. "My name's Eric. Why don't we go somewhere?"

"I'm Pamela Crosby," I said, "and the first place we'll have to go is home, so I can get dressed." I sat back and let him have a fresh eyeful of my bikini stuffed with goodies. Mama and Daddy should be gone for a comfortably long spell, and home would probably be the only place Eric and I went.

He had to change first, out of his obscenely tight and gorgeously revealing trunks, and then we mounted his bike and scooted away. I'd warn a bikini and robe from home, because I hadn't counted on meeting anyone like Eric today, so as we rode through the streets I sat on the robe and let the winds dry me off. My arms were around Eric's waist, my head nabbing his shoulder, my tits pressing the back of his shirt. He was a nice armful and I squeezed closer. One of my hands slipped down and touched the front of his jeans. The promising cock-bulge I'd noticed at the pool was more concealed now, but it was still there, and as I touched it with gentle, probing finger strokes, his prick began to stir with interest.

"Hey, slow down!" he cautioned. "Remember, I'm driving!"

I kept on touching his cock, though, and it puffed and swelled. I began to massage his dick through his pants until, all too soon, we were pulled into our driveway and stopped before the garage door.

I dismounted. Eric was still sitting on his bike, his tight pants full of hard-on. "Aren't you coming inside?" I wondered innocently.

"With this?" he asked. "I don't think your folks would go for it."

"I don't think they're at home," I replied. "So the only person you might embarrass would be me." And with that I did a flip-around and twitched towards the front door. He was behind me in a second, panting as I used my key in the lock.

As soon as I closed the door behind us, Eric was on me, lifting me by the cheeks of my ass. His hands were big and warm and deliciously strong and I lifted my face so he could kiss it. He was sloppy with his mouth, but his intentions were good. His fingers began to creep beneath the leg opening of my bikini bottom and I decided it was time to reassert my feminine dominance.

"Mmm," I protested, smacking away from his kiss, fighting to get my feet upon the floor. "Now you're going too fast! Why don't you let me run upstairs and get some clothes on? I won't be a minute." His hands released me and I stood back, playing with my hair. "Oooh," I went on, "my hair smells of chlorine! Maybe I'll take a shower while I'm at it. You can wait that long, can't you?" He nodded, a bit glumly, I thought, with that hard-on pointing out the front of his pants all big and ready. "Well, have a seat. Unless…" and my voice slowed to a crawly drawl "you'd like to take a bath, too? I'll bet you don't like chlorine any more than I do."

He didn't. And his hands were untying my bra on the way down the hall to the bathroom. While I leaned into the shower to turn on and adjust the spray, Eric was loosening the knots of my bottom and dragging it down. I sensed the momentary nakedness of my body, but it was only momentary. In just a sec Eric was covering me with his hands in all the places my bikini covered me, and he was doing it much more snugly and warmly. I hopped into the shower, my tits springing free of his clutching hands, and I turned to face him.

"You, too," I said. "Get undressed if you want to take a bath with me."

I stood facing him, giving Eric a full shot of what he could expect to receive if he wanted to play. He wasn't getting short-changed, either. I'd like to be taller, but aside from that it's all okay. Vitals – five-four, legs long in proportion so that I don't look dumpy. Which is a problem with shorter girls who have full-sized tits. Mine are 34-C, with big brawn nipples that invite suckling. Hair is a rich coppery shade, and I wear it to my shoulder blades. Eyes are green, like a cat's, and while we're on feline subjects, the hair around my pussy is a shimmery shade of red, thick and silky. From the right angle, however, the pink of my gash is definite and inviting. The boys at school say I have legs all the way up to my ass, and a curvy little set of buns to top them! For a teenager it's an out-of-sight combination, and everything works. Perfectly. I don't get many complaints.

I didn't think I'd have any, myself. The only thing I didn't know about Eric already was the precise coloring of his cock, and it wasn't long till I could see that. For the record it was quite reddish when fully erect, as it was right now, and the balls underneath were cuddled in a small, tight scrotum.

His face was red, too, with eagerness and excitement, and he joined me in the shower with grasping, ready hands. I didn't see any percentage in playing games right now. Not when I felt that hot, hard rod bang my tummy. I just wrapped my arm around him and we oozed together.

While he kissed and felt me, I began to scrub his cock. My soapy hand slid up and down its steely length till Eric moaned and I let go fast, afraid I'd tantalized him beyond endurance.

He shuddered a moment, staring dawn at his prick, and then he smiled. His suds-covered rod still thrust out, hard and expectant, and when I saw that, I added my smile to his.