On the Stand

Michael was sick of looking at her from across the deck. Sunbathing in her stupid sailor bikini. The blue and white stripes made her look tan enough, she didn\'t need anymore sun. She would come over and talk to him later, when it was getting dark and he wasn\'t in the stand. Why did he take this job as a lifeguard? He was so so much better than this: 1550 SAT\'s, swimming for Cornell... he had better jobs in the past: Web design, financial analyst assistant. All he wanted was something easy, so he didn\'t have to work as hard as he did in school. Now he found himself sitting in a chair, in the sun, watching her. The few little kids in the pool splashed noisily, but Michael wasn\'t listening. He was watching her legs, brown and glistening from her lotion, slide together while she read her book in the sun. He could just imagine what it would be like to touch them. He remembered his friend had told him that she refered to him as the hot lifeguard. She said she liked his nose. Whatever that was supposed to mean. He knew he had a reputation for being a jackass at times, but she talked to him anyway. Her yellow ringlets were moving a little in the breeze that had just come out of nowhere. She fiddled with her belly button absent-mindedly, pulling at the ring in the middle of it. That was such a hot piercing, and it looked so good against her stomach. It was so dark, and he wondered about her tan lines. What did she look like under that little pair of striped bottoms? The thought made something between his legs twitch. No, no, not now. He was supposed to be watching the pool. But there were two other guards to do that... and she was right in front of him. His mind was drifting in spite of himself. What if no one else was around? If it was just them, what would she be like? Would she still look at him and listen earnestly when he spoke? Would she let him sit a little closer or let him put his hand on her leg? Right above her knee, his favorite spot. Maybe she would even let him kiss her, just once. Maybe twice? His vision was glazed over now. He could imagine what would happen if she let him kiss her, but not just once. After hours, when the pool was closed. He WAS closing tonight. He could bring her into one of the changing rooms, and he could have her there. He would pull of her clothes, piece by piece, slowly, so he could enjoy it all. Her skin would be so soft, and she would smile when he touched her body with his fingertips, and laugh when he touched right under her hipbone, because it tickled. She would still be smiling when she took off his shirt, and ran her hands over his shoulders that were so defined from swimming. She loved those. If he was lucky, she would let him sit her down on the bench, so she could untie his pants and run her hands down the outside of his thighs. She would be so eager to let him kiss her mouth, her cheek, her neck, her collarbone, and her beautiful breasts, her wonderful 32 C\'s. Perfect. She would let him put his hands around her waist, like they were meant to be there, and hold her tight while he kissed her all that passion he had saved up for her. She would grind herself against him, her body eager to move forward, but her face still smiling shyly. He would ask her if it was ok with her, and she would say yes, quietly, and he would slide himself into her so slowly it wouldn\'t hurt her at all. She would be soft and tight, and he would start slowly, then build up the speed as her skin started to glow with sweat and heat and he could feel his stomach tighten and his body shake from trying to hold back. She would come first, not too loudly but not very soft either, panting and trying to stifle her cried onto his neck, just in case there were any stragglers left over in the adjacent room. Her noises would send him over the edge, and he would start to come before she finished, and press his lips aginst hers and try not to bite her lip. Then, as his dizzyness passed and she stopped panting, they would lay there for almost 15 minutes, not moving or speaking, but just being together. Then they would dress and talk quietly on the way out, smiling, and he would kiss her once, passionatly, before they left for the night. That\'s what would happen, if she would let him. But she was still there, with her book, in the sun. She wasn\'t ready to come over and say hello yet, even though he was getting off the stand. He would go over and talk to her, but he knew she wouldn\'t want to be interupted in the middle of her book. So, he would wait, patiently, until she came over. and when she did, he would act like it wasn\'t a big deal, and he was still a little bored, but he would be so excited he wouldn\'t notice that she was smiling at him the same way he always imagined he was, and maybe it was a bigger deal to her, too.