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I reach the end of the tiles, my blue-painted toes curling around the edge as I look down at the crystal-clear water, my reflection rippling across the surface. I stretch my arms out high above my head, my muscles tighten, fingers lacing together, and with a soft bend of my knees I push off, and my body curves into a graceful arc. The tips of my fingers hit the cool water first but in seconds I’m in deep … gliding across the blue mosaic floor.
Breaking the surface, I feel the cleanse of the water washing away any thoughts. Moving into the shallower end as my body moves across the water, my feet can finally touch the floor. I pause, tilting my head forwards before I flick my hair back, a glistening ray of droplets painting a rainbow in the dazzling summer sun that shine through the wall-sized French window that brings the outside in, and I continue my way forwards. Water drips from my eyelashes. I love the water.
Turning back to face the deep, my body longs to feel the weight of the water, the silence of the unknown. I dive under again. The ripples send tingles along my skin. I feel my nipples harden in the cold, my sex held in a watery caress that tingles against my intimate spots as I swim, gliding through the pool, my fingers outstretched and my hair fanning out behind me. Minutes pass and my lungs cry for fresh air; I rise up to the surface at the edge before I catch my breath then turn to repeat it over and over. I work my body, pushing myself until I find the rhythm that makes my muscles ache.
After a while, I forget where I am until I catch Dahlia in the corner of my eye. She is sitting on the edge of the pool. Her toes dance along the top of the water, skimming the surface lightly, making a soft splash. She too is in a one piece swimsuit, but unlike mine that clings to my athletic figure, her nude toned suit kisses her feminity in ways I long to.
I break from my lengths and make my way to her, pulling the goggles from my eyes and letting my hair loose just as her hands curl around the edge and she lowers herself into the water straight into my arms. She trails her fingers through my wet hair, as I guide us into shallower water, the moment my toes touches the tiled floor and I can steady myself, my hands are on her.
My palms cup her face as I draw her into me, my wet lips are hungry to kiss, and they do. Over and over. How have I waited so long to feel this? To taste her, to touch her like this. Starting at the edge of her lips, moving across, every inch I pepper in soft needy kisses. Her hands move to the straps of my suit, pulling each one so they slip from my shoulders and my small breasts are freed, and my pussy bared as the fabric falls away as she slides her hands down my thighs, meeting her toes which carry it the rest of the way.
I follow and repeat in response. Slipping the straps of her suit from her shoulders and peeling it inch by inch down her skin. I want to watch; I want to see her nakedness, but I can’t stop kissing her so instead I wait for the touch. The first press of wet skin on skin. There are no barriers between us now. No fabric to show restraint; it is hard to see where I end and she begins. I feel the fullness of her breasts press against my own and I need to touch them, my kisses run down her neck and along her collarbone, the swell of her full, beautiful breasts rise just out of the water and my head dips to take her nipple lightly between my lips.
I feel her moan, it vibrates through her body. She tightens her legs around my thigh and slowly starts to rock her body against me, again and again, her slick wetness making each slide an easy glide.
With each of her movements, I feel that pressure against my sex, her thigh claiming each wanting rock along my leg, which only makes my pussy press more firmly against her leg. I take her breasts, both of them in my palms, and I cup them as I raise my head up to seek out her kisses once more.
It is not like before where I claimed her and it is not like in her contract where I take what I want. It is mutual. A climax built on mutual lust and desire for each other. Both of our bodies work in effortless harmony. We start to build together, moaning into each other’s mouths. I taste her gasps as she feels the squeeze of my hands.
Water splashes as our bodies tremble, each kiss deeper and more frenzied. “Dahlia,” I pant against her lips, and she responds with a soft bite. The shock sends me over the edge, the release that has been building, since the moment I met her… finally. I cling to her and feel her body mirroring mine. Waves and waves of pleasure as we ride out our orgasms.
I guide her back to the wall and pin her there. Keeping us held tight together. My body… I can’t feel my toes and I am shaking so hard my muscles spasm. In every way, it is nothing special of an orgasm but in every single way, it is more than I have ever felt. The most special orgasm.
And even now my kisses don’t stop. Won't stop. I can’t help it. I want her taste on my tongue, on my lips, in my mouth.
“Alexa,” she whispers softly against my lips, and it takes a second, a minute, but I hear her and drop slowly back down to earth.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” I ask in a daze, unsure how tightly I held her, how hard I pushed, how needy I was with her.
“No, you didn’t hurt me. But I have a feeling you just might,” she replies softly, and I wonder why my own thoughts echo in unison the same sentiment.
6
Iwait for her in the hotel lobby. We are going for dinner. Casual, nothing fancy, and she has the car primed and ready to go, but she has asked me to take a few days off, so I am currently bartering with Robbie over the bar about what it will take to have my holidays at such short notice.
The truth is, he doesn’t have much choice. I am already owed a ton of days off and he can’t afford to piss me off too much, but he is trying to work it in his favor. He is still talking, debating, but I give him the look as I shuffle in my all-around black dress. It neatly fits my body without being over revealing in any way. I wear it with flat shoes; heels are not for me. I am pleased I got Dahlia to drop me at home so I could change and make a little effort. I feel comfortable, a little sexy, and it is helpful that we don’t have to hide our friendship so much since Dahlia has apparently intervened on my behalf.
She told me that Mr. Suit handles all that. As well as any CCTV that may have been at the pool earlier. Apparently, the hotel here has agreements so as long as we are publicly only friends only nothing will happen when it comes to my job and it won’t be mentioned to me in any way. Robbie finally nods and saunters away and I feel the air change.
I know she is here the moment she arrives. But I play on it; I know she is looking at my body in this dress. I know it looks good on me. Simple, yet so tightly fitting, it shows off the body I work so hard on. I bite my lip, slowly… Exaggerated. I flick my loose hair so my neck is bared and inviting. And then, only then, I meet her gaze.
I memorize as much of her as I can from across the lobby—I've been memorizing all weekend. I see the tiny strands of hair that drape down against her neck, loosened and fallen from her bun. She is in stockings. I have visions of catching them between my teeth. But I stand still. Staring... Until my eyes flick over towards the elevator. Giving a command without saying a word.
Turning away from her, I slowly take another sip and settle the drink back at the bar. I pause then turn glance to see if she has followed my command and she has. I don't look at her again but I stand and walk like I know she is watching. My hips sway. My dress clings to my ass. Can she see a panty line? Does she wonder if I’m wearing any? My shoes click across the floor as I make my way and stand beside her as the elevator door pings open. She hovers wondering whether to go down to the car or back up to the room.
I give her no indication. I want to see if she follows my look or what she should do.
I lean back against the gold brass railing, opposite of her, just looking, making sure she sees my lust-filled eyes already undressing her, imagining peeling that dress from her... and I reach over and press the button for her suite.
I am brazen with it, my eyes sweeping downwards and back up, I smirk as I press the button. Higher and higher we rise. My heart beats fast. But I don't say a word. I don't move an inch. I just watch her. We mutually engage in a thick, hot, mental foreplay without the slightest movement outside of our wandering eyes. Not a word is spoken, but my intentions couldn't be clearer. I'm calm, put together, cleaned up on the outside. But on the inside, I'm a ravenous animal, and I've found my prey.
My mind swirls as she reaches into her pocket and pulls the silver keycard out as the ding rings out and the doors slide open. She steps forwards and opens her door.
This time we don’t linger in the lounge area and I don’t ask permission as I step towards the bedroom. Luxury. Money. Class. But I know now that I belong in her intimate world. I walk past her close enough to touch, but I don't. I flick my hair though so she gets a deep breath of my perfume. I leave my bag on a side table. I drop my jacket on a chair. My finger runs the length of a shelf as I look around. Unashamed and indiscrete in snooping. Wanting to know everything about her without asking anything.
She finds the bar, flicking the door open she lowers slowly, leaning forward, her breasts strain with a soft swing as she rocks her hips from side to side in mock contemplation. She reaches, taking out a bottle of something sparkling. She turns to me, perfectly arched eyebrows raised in question—not for permission, rather, if I would like to share. She shuts the fridge door with her heel.
She is absurdly sexy. Every movement, every micro expression, every flex of her body language. The animal inside me claws at the bars—I want to tear her apart. But I remain calm on the outside. I'm aware of my panties growing wetter, but I'm okay with that. And I respond to her eyebrow, with a single drop of my chin, a nod of affirmation, just a single lift and drop of my chin, taking a long, fluid two steps towards her.
