Her Dad's Friend

By: Penny Wylder

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I wait for him to answer. What if my dad had been wrong about him moving to be with someone? I don’t know how I would handle that kind of news. Of course I would be crushed, and I don’t know if I ever really thought we could be together, but as long as he’s single, there’s hope.

When he simply says, “No,” my breath leaves me in a rush and my shoulders rise now that that weight has been lifted off.

He asks more questions about school and the classes I’m taking. Our conversation comes easy, and I realize I’d forgotten how effortless it has always been to talk to him. That was a big part of his appeal growing up. I was always an awkward girl without friends; taller than nearly everyone else my age, hitting puberty before everyone else. And yet, with Paul, I never felt weird or out of place. He’s always made me feel special.

We’re interrupted when someone suggests a chicken fight. The pool is full and people are making teams. Paul says, “How about we show these rookies how it’s done.”

“Let’s do it.” I slip into the water and the cold is perfect on this sweltering day. I feel weightless—and not because I’m floating in water. It’s such a relief that Paul and I are back to our normal, flirty selves, and I’ve almost forgotten about my hang over and the drunk text.

He ducks under the water, and when he comes back up, I’m lifted onto his shoulders. Water cascades down my back and breasts, running on to him. I brush my fingers through his salt and pepper hair, pulling it back away from his eyes. When he looks in either direction, the stubble of his face tickles the insides of my thighs. I start to wonder if he can feel how hot my opening is against the back of his neck, if he’s as conscious about how close his mouth is to it as I am.

He caresses my shins beneath the water where no one can see, raising goosebumps and sending chills through me. I touch his ear lobes, massaging them between my fingertips, and there’s so much sexual tension between us I’m sure others in the pool can feel the charge in the air.

When the game starts, I’m having more fun just sitting on his shoulders than I have in a long time, and it’s nice to forget about school and bills and all the other grown-up stuff that bogs me down on a regular basis.

We make a great team. Emily and her future one-night stand are the only ones who come even close to knocking me off Paul’s shoulders. Paul and I kill it at chicken fighting and are the victors every time. When we’re done and everyone else starts to leave the pool, he ducks back under the water, no longer between my legs and I miss him there.

I make my way to the cave to get out of the sun. It’s quiet and dark, away from the prying eyes of everyone else. Paul ducks beneath the water, and when he comes back up for air, he’s in the cave with me. He lifts me up into his arms, cradling me. “Remember playing Superman when you were a kid?” he asks.

“Don’t do it!” I say, laughing, but I’m already being tossed in the air before I’m finished protesting, making a huge splash when I land. Coming out of the water, my top slips. Not all the way off, but enough for the pinks of my areolas to show. I’m mortified, cupping my breasts.

Paul comes up to me and removes my hands. The suit is literally hanging on by my nipples. He adjusts the triangles of fabric to cover me, fingers grazing my collar bone as he moves them up to tie the strings tighter.

“Oops,” he says with a wraith of a smile.

“They keep trying to escape,” I say about my breasts.

“Maybe you should let them off the leash once in a while.” His smile stirs the beast between my legs. It wants out. It wants to devour Paul.

“Maybe I will.” I act like I’m about to take off my top. He watches intently to see how far I will actually go.

When I drop my hands without taking off my top, he says, “Tease,” and splashes me.

We take turns dunking each other under the water, which for me—and probably him too—is just another excuse for us to touch. He’s flirting in a way he never has before, a hand brushing slyly against my breasts, my ass. I do the same to him, too. He lifts me, this time grabbing between my legs, fingers digging into the fabric. It’s so startling that I don’t scream or make a noise when he tosses me. When I come out of the water I wipe my eyes and we both just stare at each other, his gaze bright and wanting.

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