You hold onto the diving board while the water holds onto you. The feel of a body behind you, of hands tracing the lines of your suit, a finger sliding just under the edge of fabric, a tease, a tease that moves along the inside of your thigh. Soft breath on wet skin, moist neck. Lips find the curve of your neck, tongue following the rivulets of water drawing lines across your skin; a breath, teeth grazing your ear, the cool night draws shivers from skin too long exposed to the air and already blessed with goosebumps.

Dangerous, this, the rubbing of bodies as if trying to find friction, heat. Hands on your stomach as you press closer to the body along your back, the arms around you. Fingers move to arms, tease the straps, and you have to wonder how easily they slip off. Quite easily it turns out, as hands draw straps over shoulders, trace curves beneath the water to leave you bare.

For moments it is just the sound of treading water behind you, and then hands – hands not shy, nor hesitant – hands sure and strong that move up along your calves, the back of your legs, thighs, ass, hips. There is nothing between these hands and your wet skin, a fact taken full advantage of as fingers explore each curve, each crevice along the way to your waist, over your breasts, palms pressed in tightly to capture nipples, rub, roll, press, slowly – so slowly, letting the water support you as they find out just how sensitive the hardening tips are; fingers part, drawing outward and then releasing, again, and again, then lightly dancing lower over your naked stomach to where it meets the water.

You feel the body behind you slip under the water only to resurface in front of you. Hands move up under your legs, hook your knees over shoulders, folding you at the middle.

You hold onto the board tightly, close your eyes for just a moment to feel the difference between warm lips and cool skin as lips move up your thigh, small hungry kisses tasting the water from your skin. It does not take long until they find the smooth skin further in.

So close – you can feel his breathing, slightly faster, against you; kisses turn to nibbles, teeth grazing naked skin as they tease, nuzzling, holding you suspended there. Still, there is only so long before your arms tire, and he pauses in the game being played to breath you in before slipping out from between your legs.

Now it is your turn to sink beneath the water.

5 Responses to “Nightswim”

  1. nymphobrainiac Says:

    Beautiful. One of your finest so far, I think. Your best writing is about anticipation…


  2. Ki Two Says:

    *a bit ragged of a sigh, but still a delightful sigh*
    That was just delicious…
    Sink beneath the water, indeed!

  3. ~Storm Says:

    Why do I suddenly want to go for a midnight swim?

    Lovely, thank you for this.

  4. Elle Says:

    Wow, what a wonderful picture you paint…

  5. lea Says:

    Even in this cold I want to suddenly go swimming.. nice piece of work there!

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