She invited me to swim. It was her idea, so I said yes. She has no idea what I have in mind.
I arrive, frozen low-fat, organic pizza in hand. She is already in her bikini, on her second glass of wine. While the oven heats, we share a few hits off a pipe. A nice glow, that. We catch up, who is seeing who, why her last relationship failed, where mine is going.
The pot is pretty strong, and I’m beginning to feel it. Giddy, happy, funny, laughing, she is too. We talk some more, I tell her about the job, and she explains what her kids are doing. Ordinary chit-chat, but it’s on a Wednesday. She asks me to play hooky next week, so I can come over and spend more time with her. She misses me, and other women don’t tend to like her. I certainly do, more than she knows, or understands yet. She is sex on a stick, delivered to my door. Big tits, luscious curves. Hetero.
Pizza is ready, but she doesn’t have any. Wheat bothers her, she says. I get it. I always do.
Wine is poured and we eat. I change into my suit so that we can swim. I have a bikini for you, if you want it. Yes, I want it. I change in front of her. Fellow women, we have no shame. I put on the top, and she reaches inside to fix my boobs. She pulls my nipples up to a higher part of the suit, giving me prominent cleavage. I feel her grab my nipples, I feel the light pinch. I tingle.
I hope you go in the pool, she says. Of course I do. The cool water gently laps my skin as she swims back and forth, and the dog follows her strokes. I duck under, and hold my breath, trying hard to become one with the water.
I can’t, the water beats me as I must have air.
When I come back up, there she is, next to me, and she reaches out to help me stand. I take her hand and stand, getting closer to her. Close enough to count every freckle on her shoulder, every eyebrow hair that glistens with the pool water. I run my hand down her arm, from those gorgeous freckles, to her hand. Her eyes widen, her lips part. I can tell she is thinking, the gears are trying to play catch-up to the sensory. So I slide my fingers up her arm, feather-light touches, I know she barely feels them, but feels them too much. I have touched him in this way, but never a her.
I am unsure, but I am determined. I am brave, but I am trembling. I move her hair off her shoulder, and look into her eyes. Her brain in doing double duty, switching into a sexual mode that she has never explored. Neither have I. We are bi-virgins.
She smiles, as if she is wondering if this is a joke, hoping it is, hoping it isn’t. I slide both fingers up her arms to her shoulders, and then lightly down the front. I hear her gasp but do not see her lips move. Our eyes are locked on one another. She gives me permission through the widening of her pupils. I slide one finger over her nipple, sheathed in that bikini, then the other hand over her perfect hard nipple. I can feel the wetness as my pussy starts the swell. It is immediate. As I move my hands on her breasts, she starts to explore my body. She touches my arms, and then moves her hands into my hair. She doesn’t know what to do, but neither do I. We shall figure it out together.