Pool of Possibilities
The invitation had been casual—just friends, drinks, music, and the kind of lazy summer day where nothing mattered except the sun on your skin and the cool kiss of the water. Then she arrived. Anastasia. The moment she stepped through the gate, the air changed. Vapors of chlorine were suddenly luminesced by the energy radiating off her skin.
She was younger than you, but not naive. Not with the way her hips swayed as she walked, not with the way that fucking red bikini clung to every curve, the fabric so thin you could almost see the sultry pink of her nipples beneath.
She caught you staring. Of course she did. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips as she smoothed brunette hair behind one ear. “Like what you see?” she teased with a wink. You swallowed hard. This was going to be a problem.
Submerged Desires
The water should have cooled things down. It didn’t. While your friends laughed, splashing and drinking under the sun, Anastasia drifted closer, her body a warm, slick temptation beneath the surface. Her fingers found your belly below the water—innocent, if anyone looked. But you knew better.
“You seem tense,” she murmured, her breath smelling sweet. Her thigh brushed against you, and your cock twitched in response. “Maybe you need to… relax.” Her hand slid lower, fingertips dancing along the waistband of your swimsuit. Your pulse pounded and your breath shortened. If she kept this up, everyone would see. And God, you weren’t sure you cared.
Touch Too Far
She was clumsy—adorably so. At least, that’s what it looked like when she “tripped” against you, her ass grinding against your erection. “Oops,” she giggled, her eyes dark with hunger. “You’re really happy to see me, huh?”
Your hands gripped her hips below the water, torn between pushing her away and yanking her closer. “Careful—” you warned, voice rough. “Or what?” She bit her lip, rolling her hips out of your grasp before swimming away, leaving you throbbing and desperate.
Whisper in the Deep End
While the others were distracted, she cornered you near the steps, her fingers toying with the strings of her bikini top. “I’ve never done it before,” she confessed, voice soft. “But I think about it all the time.” Your cock twitched.
“I have to touch myself every night,” she continued, leaning in, “imagining someone like you…” “Fuck, Anastasia,” you growled. “You can’t just say things like that.” She grinned, trailing a fingertip down your chest. “Why not?” she whispered. “Don’t you like hearing it?”
Caught in the Water
Her hand found you beneath the surface of the water, fingers sliding with purpose around your hardness before you could stop her. You sucked in a sharp breath, hips jerking instinctively, but she was already in control, her grip firm and unyielding. “Anastasia—fuck—someone will see!” you hissed, your voice tight with desperation as your eyes darted toward the distant laughter of party guests just beyond the pool’s edge.
But she only arched a brow, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she tightened her hold, her thumb tracing a slow, slick, maddening circle over your tip. The water rippled around you, concealing her underwater operations, yet hiding nothing and revealing everything to her alone. “Then you’d better not make a sound, and stay right here with me,” she murmured, “or I’ll make a scene,” a not-so-subtle threat. Her fingers began to move in a deliberate rhythm, each stroke sending fire licking up your spine.
You groaned, teeth gritting behind your lips to stifle the sound. The danger of being caught warred with the unbearable pleasure of her touch—every nerve alight, every muscle coiled tight. “You’re killing me,” you managed, your voice rough, fingers gripping the pool’s ledge.
Her laugh was pure sin as she leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. “No,” she whispered, her free hand sliding up and squeezing your aching balls just enough to draw a sharp, involuntary shudder. “I’m just getting started.”
Bargain with a Babe
“Stop,” you begged, your voice ragged. The way she had you pinned—hands between your thighs, fingers not letting go—left no room for negotiation. “Please. If you let me go now, I’ll make it worth your while later. Anything you want.”
Her grip loosened just enough for you to gasp a breath, and her eyes—glassy, reflecting the party’s neon glow—flickered with predatory amusement. “Promise?” The word curled off her tongue. You nodded, pulse hammering while her grip reengaged. “Stay after. Tell them you're helping me clean up.”
A slow, knowing smile curled her lips. She released you with one last, deliberate squeeze—hard enough to make your stomach drop—and leaned in: “Better not disappoint me.” Then she was gone, melting back into the pool.
Cleaning Up
The gate clicked shut behind the last guest, the latch closing with a finality that sent a thrill down your spine. Silence, thick and heavy, settled over the pool—broken only by the distant hum of cicadas. Then she was on you. No warning, no coy hesitation—just heat and hunger as her mouth crashed against yours. Her fingers tearing at the tie of your swimsuit with impatient tugs. “Fuck—I’ve wanted this all day,” she gasped, her voice ragged.
You didn’t give her the chance to finish. Gripping her waist, you spun her around and backed her against the cabana wall, the thatched palapa rattling from the impact. Her bikini ties gave way under the pull of your fingers, baring her perfect breasts to the balmy night air. She arched into your touch, a breathy moan escaping as you thumbed her nipples, already taut with desire.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” you growled, the words rough against her skin. You could feel her pulse hammering under your lips as you kissed down her collarbone, tasting salt and sunscreen. With a sharp push, you forced her onto the cabana bed, its woven fibers creaking under her weight. Her legs fell open in invitation, and you followed her down, pinning her wrists above her head. Her laugh was pure sin. “And you’re so fucking slow.”
Skin on Skin
Her pussy was tight—so fucking tight it made your cock throb just squeezing inside her. Dripping wet, her greedy little cunt clenched around you, sucking you in deeper like she couldn’t get enough. Every thrust punched another slutty moan out of her, tears trailing from the corners of her eyes. “Oh my God—fuck!” she screamed as her first orgasm ripped through her, her thighs shaking, her walls pulsing around you like a vice.
But you weren’t done—not even close. You fucked her slow, grinding deep just to hear her whimper, then slammed into her hard and fast until the cabana bed shook. She came again quickly, her voice breaking, her body twitching in uncontrollable spasms. You fucked her repeatedly, wringing all pleasure from her like she was a wet rag, until she was a whimpering, overstimulated, fucked-out, trembling mess beneath you.
Summer of Sin
Nude, sticky, and spent, she dragged you back into the pool with a breathless laugh, the water sloshing around you both as she locked her legs around your waist. The night air was cool against your overheated skin, but she burned even hotter—her body still flushed, her breath ragged against your collarbone. The water hadn’t done a damn thing to quench her.
“That was…” She arched into you, fingers tracing the nape of your neck like she was memorizing the shape of you. “…incredible.” A pause, then her lips grazed your earlobe, playful and possessive. “I want to do it again. Tomorrow. Every day.” As if later was already too long to wait.
You smirked, already picturing it—bending her over the edge of the pool, ass in the air, water sloshing as you pounded her from behind. Her cries would echo, loud and shameful, and anyone nearby would know exactly what you were doing to her. “Then you’d better come back,” you growled, gripping her thighs.
“Because next time…” Your hand slid between her legs, fingers teasing her exhausted, swollen clit. “I’m completely ruining you.”