Swim Where 4
Warning! This section is probably rated as PG-13
She watched his bare back as Scott her preceded down the hall to his bedroom. As they wended their way, the aspiring sports reporter reflected on the past hour.
Belinda had walked behind him from the cab to his building, while admiring both his grace and his form. She couldn’t imagine Scott Wagner having to resort to this ruse, just to get laid. His fame, coupled with his handsomely chiseled features and exceptionally fine physique would have the females in any nightclub clawing each others eyes out for the opportunity of squirming wantonly in his muscular arms.
‘Why me?’ As Wagner had keyed the outer knob, she had asked. His answer had been, ‘that is the last question you should ask.’ His inflection had left her unsure of whether he meant it was an answer she might regret hearing or if the answer to it would terminate their deal.
To his credit, Scott hadn’t simply ushered her to a bed and ordered her to strip as a common strumpet might’ve been. Instead, he lit candles in the living room and put on some mellow music. They had sat on the sofa necking and engaging in foreplay. Their bodies were now both piqued for the consummating event and as they moved to the bedroom, they were already in a state of partial undress.
She stopped on entry and looked around. The paraphernalia and sport photos one should expect to find in a world class athlete’s home were as absent here as they had been missing from the rest of the suite. The only signs of his swimming career were his four Olympic gold medals hanging haphazardly on his bedpost—as if he had just tossed them there like an unlaundered t-shirt. The pictures on the walls were of tropical reef scenes and a there were framed advertiser’s posters with various items of scuba gear. A full set of scuba gear was hung reverently in the half-open closet. He had as many swimsuits hanging neatly as another man would have pressed shirts.
Belinda was so engrossed in viewing his private domain that she barely felt him tenderly removing her bikini bottom panties, or noticed his stripping off his own.
“Do you have protection?” She asked as he lowered her nude body onto the sheets.
“I only wear a wet suit when swimming in cold water.”
“What about in an unfamiliar ocean?”
“Immersion in water gives me a sense of security, regardless of where it’s pooled. And where might a man feel more at home, than in his own comfortable bed?”
Belinda balked only briefly and then relented. If Scott’s past had been hedonistic, it would’ve already been splashed in newspapers. If anything, his lifestyle was devoid of any reported sex partners. His failure to stock prophylactics actually lent her a convoluted impression of safety. It implied that he wasn’t a weirdo with a scripted scenario that was complete with all the props and consumables. At least she allowed her mind to trust in that because the only other option was calling for an immediate cease and desist. In ordering a halt, she would be tossing away a possession she’d already purchased by agreeing to mortgage her genitals to finance her ambitions.
“Just be prepared to pull out,” Belinda spread her thighs apart as an open threshold for his hips, “because I’m not on any birth control.”
Scott’s gender sought her pubic triangle like it was a welcome mat. He found the moisture in the folds then entered her as smoothly and powerfully as if diving into a tepid pool. He plumbed to the extreme range of his depth finding equipment and on finding the wet sleeve was a pleasurable locale, he energetically frolicked in it.
The motion in his legs was fluidic as he pumped and Belinda locked her heels around his thighs to better appreciate the sensational friction. She felt as if riding a merman or a dolphin as in the act of sex, he employed the unique kick that made his butterfly stroke so amazingly fast. ‘I could use a description of this sex experience as a comparative article on his swimming style,’ Belinda thought, ‘if I could find a magazine that would publish sports erotica.’
Previously, she had only ever achieved an orgasm during masturbation. This time, she climaxed twice as the tempo of their lovemaking crested towards a grand finale and had an even stronger one when she felt his legs quiver and the searing gushes of his finishing spasms inside her.
“You were supposed to pull out!” In mock frustration, she slapped both his biceps. Retrospectively, neither one of them could’ve interrupted the inevitable end of such an intensely passionate crescendo.
“I can slip out now.”
“It’s too late so don’t bother.” In the afterglow of her orgasms, even this didn’t seem crucial enough to panic her. There was not much she could do about it now either. “If your semen swims anywhere near as fast as you do, they’ve already mapped out and conquered the most remote regions of my egg realm.”
“That reminds me of a life defining element of my childhood,” he pushed up from between her legs and rolled to a position beside her, “and you’ve now definitely earned the right to hear it.”
Belinda wished that he hadn’t cheapened the wonderful moment with a reminder of their pact but she rapt her attention onto the lips she had so recently been kissing.
“My mother understood my love for swimming and she gave me my first set of gear: actually the swim set consisted of only mask, snorkel and fins. We lived near a small lake and I explored it completely.”
The limited confines of our childhood play areas seemed much larger to us them.”
“That is true. But I knew this lake more intricately than anyone else alive. I went to nearly every part and knew almost everything about it. I circled its perimeter.” His hand found the curve of her waist and explored over her flat abdomen to her other hip in demonstration. “Even without scuba gear tanks, I dived to its depths.” His fingers disappeared down under the blanket. “I saw where garbage was dumped.” He plucked playfully at her pubic hairs. “I found the small streams that fed water in and the river that was its outlet.” His knuckles returned to view and traced a meandering path to her chest. “I knew the homes, structures and interesting features along its shoreline.” His palm cupped over each of her breasts in turn. “I found out where it was shallowest and where it was deep.” The first was illustrated with a flat hand on her stomach and the second with a finger in her naval.
“I get the picture.” She giggled and extracted his fingertip from her ticklish belly button. “The intriguing portions were ‘nearly every part’ and ‘almost everything’.”
“You are perceptive because those are the two pivotal phrases. I hadn’t thoroughly examined an abandoned industrial complex that had two rickety piers and a number of rusty old hulks littering the waterline. It was deserted, spooky and I had avoided it. And one thing I didn’t know was that my best friend the lake, would turn into a killer to drown my mother.”
“That’s terrible!” Belinda reacted. She had known from her research that both his parents were deceased but she was unready for that subject to so suddenly arise in this after sex chatting. She then thought for a pause. “I should think something like that would turn me right off swimming but for you it seemingly did the reverse.”
“Neither my mother nor her death ever factored into my relationship with water. We can talk more on that later. After her death, I resolved to either conquer the lake or to let it kill me, as it did her. I braved the part that I had previously shunned and at the side of one of the old piers, I made a startling discovery. My mom was not the only one my lake had killed. I found a fully dressed skeleton with its feet in buckets of concrete. A wallet was in a pocket and the name on the ID matched with a certain teamster union boss who mysteriously disappeared and was never found.”
“Oh!” Belinda Lyle scrunched up her nose and slapped his chest. “I suckered along right up to just then. Let’s sleep now and start our truthful interviews tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Scott switched off the light. He put an arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. Then he whispered softly in her ear. “Why would I vehemently profess lofty morals in any selection between truth and vanity while in a taxi cab, but then prove my character as utterly the reverse, when given the first practical opportunity?”
Men tend to nod off easily after sex and soon, Belinda knew he was asleep. Slumber for her took longer as her mind was alternately recriminating on the consummated arrangement, rejoicing the career vistas his willing cooperation could open, and the occasional remembrance of his Jimmy Hoffa fable with a pang of worry over how a believed lie from him, could ruin her. Exhausted, sexually well satisfied and having the lingering effects of the wine she’d consumed, Belinda finally slept and soundly.
Swim Where will continue….
Russell Twyce is the Author of Shiva’s Messenger