| Cold Shower (PG-13 Rating) | |||
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| SonjaRostov | 2008-09-14 01:44:24 | ||
 Forum Posts: 31 Comments: 0 Reviews: 0 | 1300-word short story, written in 1997 COLD SHOWER "Hi. First time out?" "Huh?" There's a thousand ways she could mean that. Since sheÆs pretty, I give her the benefit of the doubt. "To watch the volleyball game." "Oh. Yeah." Innocent enough. Or smart enough to seem innocent. I get those, too. "I knew they had volleyball, from the brochure, but I had a hell of a time finding it." "Yeah, the sand dunes pretty much block the view, except from here." She gestures at the lake where we stand, water lapping our armpits. SheÆs tall. "IÆm surprised nobody watches from boats. You guys are good." Her scowl wrinkles the new pink skin on her nose, the only place sheÆs not deep gold. "The resort owns this end of the lake. ItÆs swimming only, except the speedboats they use to run trespassers off." "I read that, too. Glad to hear itÆs enforced." Privacy is a big selling point when you desperately need a vacation from your public, admiring and otherwise. I'd lined up a whole week of only me, the other guests, and the staff. No cell phones, no cameras, no electronic anything. The general public is neither invited nor admitted to the buildings or grounds, the pamphlet said, including the lake. Our guests may not invite guests of their own. "Your shoulders are pink." She presses an index finger to me. You never get used to strangers touching you, but you learn not to get mad, even if it stings a little. I frown at the white oval which stays too long. "I didn't plan to stay out, but I really got into watching you. Play, I mean." Lame. She's annoyed, not flattered. If she didn't want people admiring her, she shouldn't have had her body so openly on display. Watching her loosen up on the beach before her serve got me half-hard, grateful to be hidden by the lake. "ItÆs a game, not a peep show, newbie. Wait ætil you start playing and the new girls are watching you jump, or fall on your ass. See how you like being gawked at." I laugh. "Been there, done that. I just shut down the part of me that notices." Once I got to that unpleasant stage of celebrity, I made my own privacy, avoiding eye contact, with body language that says 'Leave me alone' no matter what my mouth says. Otherwise I couldn't stand going anyplace public. "I know who you are." Her eyes narrow like I'm going to make a big deal out of being myself. Like I could help it. "Yeah, me too," I say, hoping it's disarming, maybe charming. I wouldn't mind a woman like this thinking I'm enticing. "And you're--?" A big American Beauty smile, startling white teeth against the deeply tanned face. "Meg Calhoun." She offers her hand to shake. It's big for a woman, wet and sandy. "Keanu Reeves. Pleased to meet you, Meg." "Likewise. You play volleyball? You're tall." "Badly. Not in your league." "You want to play, you play. There's a game going any time it's not raining or too dark to see, and everybodyÆs welcome. Listen, you really should use sunscreen or your whole vacation could be ruined. " She touches her nose. "I bet that happens a lot here." "No. Most people are smarter than you." "True. Sun's getting low now. Can I buy you a drink?" Maybe I'm anticipating those breasts across the table, maybe later the athletically sweet musk of a woman who's sweated and rinsed in a lake instead of showered. I honestly can't remember the last time a woman said no. This career has its perks. "I don't see a wallet." Her grin is cute, up there with her sunburned nose. I try to think about something other than her breasts bouncing when she leaped for the spike. "I'm not carrying my wallet," I admit. The brochure was clear about charges on the veranda, the beer garden, the outdoor bar, the dining room, and the pool cafe going to your room on the basis of your signature. People who can afford this resort a hundred miles from anywhere don't stiff them for drinks or a plate of food. Heads turn as the plump hostess leads us through a maze of glass-topped tables on the veranda to the remote one I asked for. I feel eyes on me, but some of the men are checking Meg out. I enjoy the rear view, hard yet jiggly, with deep dimples just below her waist. It's almost a shame when she sits down, except that her breasts are more or less sitting on the table's glass top when she leans forward to sniff the table's candle. "Citronella. Mosquitoes can be a real problem this time of day." "I guess." Brilliant conversationalist. I hadn't noticed any bugs. All I saw was Meg. I try not to stare, concentrating on her pale eyes in the tanned face as she orders a gin and tonic. "Two," I say. A tan like hers is bad, from skin cancer to early wrinkles, but right now she looks absolutely fabulous. In comparison, I'm the shy nerd, white as a sugar cookie except for my head and my sunburned shoulders. Pretty stupid, staying out as long as I did without sunscreen. I'd thought I should go get some from my room several times, but I couldn't tear myself away from the game. From her. A cool breeze stirs her short hair, already drying. God, her nipples are rising! "Can I take you to dinner?" I blurt. "They have a dress code. Did you pack a coat and tie?" I shake my head. "I took this vacation to get away from people and restaurants and being seen. I was thinking days in the sun and room service nights." "Let's have a room service night, then." Her light eyes twinkle. "Terrific." No kidding. Even now I hardly believe it sometimes, these terrific women with me. "It's the same food, and I don't care what you packed." "I didn't pack much," I admit. "They give you beach towels and a complimentary robe and all, and I didn't need much else, shaving stuff and a toothbrush--" "I know. I come here every year." "I think I'm going to start," I say, hoping it doesn't sound too desperate or slimy. "I hope so," she says simply, and leans forward, crushing her breasts on the glass table. "I'd like to offer my very personal welcome." You'd think I'd never been around a beautiful woman who'll probably say yes. I hope my rising cock isn't obvious. Meg's staring right at it through the table top. "Let's take these to your room." She picks up her drink and stands. "Ah, can we wait a minute?" Helplessly, I stare at my lap through the glass table top. My face heats at the prospect of walking across a veranda full of people with a hard-on. "You think you're the first man here who's--" She knocks over my drink, which cascades over the edge of the table onto me. The tonic fizzes on my cock, rapidly diminishing in its own personal cold shower. I think I feel bubbles in my pubic hair. "Oh, IÆm so sorry!" Her voice holds a wink. "How could I be so clumsy?" The hostess trots, breasts and bottom bouncing, to bring us a white towel. My cock's already shocked down to size. "You're all sticky," Meg says. "Let's go to your room so you can shower." "Yeah, let's do that. We can order dinner and not have to dress." "Right," she agrees, taking my arm. "It is a nudist colony. Naturalist resort. Whatever." "Whatever." The End | ||
| 2008-09-19 06:29:30 | |||
| Forum Posts: 142 Comments: 1 Reviews: 0 | This is very well written. I love the internal dialogue. Have to say it ended a little too abruptly for me - I would like to have seen the obvious conclusion to the scene (although I guess you cant post adult stuff here). Great job. | ||
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