Long Blonde Hair, Sky Blue Eyes

"They are on vacation in the south of France. I had commitments, and they didn't want to wait. I think they wanted to go shopping without me along to monitor the girls' clothing and swimsuit choices."

They exchanged laughs and hugs, and the former president moved along.

"You guys hang out in the 'high cotton,' as we say in Texas," Johnny observed. "Next time I go somewhere with you, I'll brush up on my titles so I know how to address all the bigwigs: 'Senator, Your Honor, Mr. and Mrs.' - it's all confusing to me! And is it Mr. President or Mr. Former President?"

Hanna laughed and then answered, "You've both done just fine, but I'm going to have to find out when you take off your hat and when you keep it on; that's confusing me."

Johnny laughed. "Different rules in different places, but in our world, you take off your hat when meeting someone, when holding a conversation with a lady you don't know well, or when inside someone's home. Since we're on the patio, it's okay to wear a hat. Also, you doff your hat when saying hi to a woman, and nod at the gentlemen. I wasn't real sure about etiquette when meeting a former president, so I just kept it in my left hand."

With devilish grins, Annika and Hanna took their hats and lightly set them atop their hair. "What does it mean 'in your world' when a woman does what we just did?" Hanna asked.

They looked at each other and shrugged, which drew a laugh from a group that included five girls around their ages. "Look on TicTok" one said loudly, and they all tittered again.

Hanna took her phone out of her purse and opened it. A quick search for 'Cowboy Hat Rule,' and she showed them a short video. The other group was laughing again; Johnny and Erik watched, looked at one another, and Johnny said, "We're game; which room is ours?"

"Not now," Hanna laughed, "maybe later, if you're a good cowboy tonight."

Erick gave Annika a devilish grin this time, and threatened, "If I don't have my hat on in five seconds, I'm going to make you ride me right here on that lounger."

She squeaked in mock horror and handed his hat back. "Tease!" he joked.

"Hah! We'll see about that later, Cowboy Erik!"

It had been fun, but they seemed to be having the same conversations over and over, it was after one in the morning and Erick was tired. "What room are Johnny and I in?" he whispered to Annika, who was again holding court with a retinue of admirers. "I'm tired."

"Oh, you don't have a room with Johnny - you're sleeping with me!" she replied. He perked up at that thought, and then realized there was no way he was ready for that event.

"Uhhh, maybe I should..."

"No, Erik, Hanna wants to be with Johnny, and I want to be with you. I'll respect your virtue, if you insist, but I'm going to sleep beside you."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea..." he managed before she turned her back to him, excused herself from the cortege, and took his arm. "We're in a suite on the third floor; I'll show you."

"BYEEE Annika," JoJo cried across the patio, "I'll see you two at brunch! You too, Hanna and Johnny!"

****

There were baths on either side of the suite; Erik showered in one, Annika in the other. He was lying in bed wearing silk sleeping shorts when Annika emerged in a pastel blue baby doll nightgown made of satin. 'No human being could look that good' he told himself, 'unless she sold her soul to the devil. Now what do I do?

'Look at her, posed in the doorway, light behind her, framing her gown, her golden hair, and slender body, one foot slightly in front of the other. That's just not fair!' he fumed, while his cock grew dangerously stiff.

"Hmmm, it's nice to be appreciated," she said lasciviously as she stood over him and slowly licked her lips.

He wanted to resist, just to put her in her place and keep her out of his, but he knew he was too weak.

She put her left knee on the bed, knelt, and swung the other over his waist. She briefly settled on his hard cock, before continuing on until she was lying beside him. "I told you I'd respect your virtue," she teased.

"Okay, let's have the talk right now! I'm not gay or dead, and I know I'm lying beside the favorite poster girl for most men on earth. Hell, I've heard your SI swimsuit poster is threatening Farrah Fawcett's record, and there's no telling how much semen gets spilled every night in your name.

"The problem is, I'm an old-fashioned guy, and I know sleeping with someone means I'm sleeping with all their partners and their partners' partners. Do I dare ask how many partners I would be sleeping with, and do I need industrial-strength rubbers if I do?"

She flounced to the other side of the king bed, glared at him, and replied. "I know you're an ignorant rube when it comes to my world, but it pisses me off that you believe everything my publicist hints at to get mention, and the photo opportunities I've taken advantage of over the years.

"Yes, I'm not a virgin; yes, I've been associated with all kinds of celebrities in all kinds of way, including 'being in a relationship'!

"But there is a very good chance you're got twice as many notches on your bedpost as I do! Ha! After talking to one of your old girlfriends last night, that number might actually be ten-times as many! So fuck you, you judgmental hick! I wouldn't fuck you if you were the only man on earth!"

That attack was unexpected, and very effective. He certainly wasn't a virgin either, and he didn't carve notches, but his journal count was two-score and rising, so what right did he have to judge Annika? Still, he seriously doubted he was ten-fold ahead, or even two-fold.

"I'll concede the 'judgmental hick' but contest the ten-fold. Over-under on four?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but neither, asshole!"

"So four? Damn! That's hard to believe!"

"I'm sure it is, when you prejudge someone you don't even know as a slut!"

"I don't use that term, although by your standards it applies to me. It's just that the photos and videos of you out partying with famous athletes, actors, and other models are very convincing, without even going into the tabloid stories and film. Your reputation is a lot closer to 'Wild Child' than vestal virgin, which four would place you as, in your lines of business."

"You think I don't know that! Even my grandparents think I'm a slut! And I might have been, except my mother was ready and willing to intercept all the cocks aimed at me when I was younger, and then I used her as a model of how not to behave when I got older!

"As pissed as I am at how she fucked around on my daddy, cucked him, treated him like shit, and lied to me, I guess I have to appreciate that she took my 'casting couches' too."

Erik shook his head at that, and then inquired, "You're going to yell at me and call me a rube, but I have to ask: 'the Ballbuster?' Was the center fielder one of your four, or was Sports Illustrated acting as The National Enquirer on that one?"

She looked wistful. "No, that was real, at least on my side. I was 21 and totally enchanted with him. It wasn't until I found out what he did every single night when I wasn't around that I turned into the bitch you saw on TV and read about in SI.

"But, believe me, it wasn't me that brought his batting average down; the SOB caught a bad case of syphilis in San Diego and couldn't shake it. We had already broken up, thank God, and I've always tested clean, but I'll admit one thing I did might have contributed to his fall: I fucked his teammate. It was a revenge-fuck on both ends, because he had fucked Glen's wife, but I'm ashamed I did it, and Glen is too.

"So, Barry was number two and Glen number three. My first was another young model with whom I spent too much time posing naked and nearly naked on a deserted beach in the South Pacific; think The Blue Lagoon. It was so terrible I swore I'd never have sex again, but then Barry came along and taught me it wasn't always terrible, even if he was selfish after the first few times...

"Glen was probably the best, because he took his time with me. We were alone all weekend, and I learned that not all men are selfish pigs who just want to rut. Honestly, if he hadn't gone back to his remorseful wife, who knows."

"And the last, over a year ago, was the actor everyone said I was going to marry. He was gorgeous, I was horny, and we went at it for about six weeks before admitting there was zero chemistry and no future. Oh, we pretended for a few more months, but soon even our publicists gave up. I think it must have even shown through in pictures and video.

"So, Mr. Swahn, would you like to chronicle your love life since birth? I shared mine."

"No, Miss Olsson; I don't kiss and tell! Besides, it would take a little longer than yours did, and we need some sleep.

"Don't give me that look! I'll promise you this: in the unlikely event we do end up in relationship, I'll let you read my journal, but only after swearing you to secrecy."

"Hmmm. So if I make you my number five tonight, do I get to read your journal?"

"TicTok challenges don't count as relationships, Miss Olsson. However, if you'll move back into the middle, I'd love to cuddle you tonight. I have a feeling I'd sleep well with you in my arms, and I'd like to see what Miss Perfection looks like when she wakes up."

She slid back beside him, raised his arm and laid it on her pillow so she could rest her head on it, pulled him onto his side, and snuggled against him. She wiggled and nestled until her body was as close as possible, intertwined their legs, and made a purring sound. "Umm, you're as well built as you look; Barry and Glen would be jealous."

He breathed in her scents, felt skin softer than the satin nightgown, and discovered she had rounder curves than he thought. He mumbled, "What the hell was I thinking? Sleeping with the hottest model in SI's Swimsuit issue; she's willing, and I'm not? I'm a friggin' idiot!"

She giggled and squirmed some more, and then settled into his arms. Within minutes she was asleep, purring softly. Erik wasn't so lucky, so he thought back on her "confession." If the story of her love life was true, she wasn't far from being his dream girlfriend, and a real prospect.

****

Awakening with one of Peoples "50 Most Beautiful Women in the World" was new to Erik, but she wasn't the first beautiful woman to grace his bed, including some cinema starlets. He had learned that many 'beautiful' women rely on makeup to emphasize their best features and minimize the flaws, and were rather plain or even strange looking without.

Annika had showered before coming to bed last night, so he was seeing Annika au naturel, and that was a unique experience. The sun shining on their bed seemed to explode in her mussy golden hair, creating an aura around her sleeping face. To Erik, the sleeping Annika was more beautiful than when dressed to party or in the many photo shoots that ended up in magazines or on TV.

She had been in the business for over a decade, and he had been aware of her from about age fourteen, which was when he hit puberty. A friend showed him his older sister's copy of Teen Vogue, with lanky 14-year-old Annika modeling summer dresses for juniors, and that was the first time he was aware that angels walked the earth.

He had kept up with her religiously for a year or so, but the earthly pleasure of girls in his own school distracted him from his ideal. He spent his spare time developing computer games and programs, making honor rolls, engaging with his love interest of the month, and playing four sports for the New Braunfels Unicorns.

College was more of the same, but with much more advanced programming and coursework, and only one sport. He preferred football, but wasn't quite as big or fast as colleges wanted, so he played baseball for a team that made the College World Series. He did enjoy intramural football, basketball, and tennis.

He also abandoned the 'girl of the month club' and settled into longer term relationships that allowed him to get to know his partner; unfortunately, none lasted beyond the semester in which they started, so his understanding of long-term relationships was stunted.

Perhaps it was her innocent, untroubled sleeping expression, or the light breaths, or the little noises emerging from between those full lips, or maybe the sculptured look of her neck and shoulders, or the symmetry of her facial features and ear... He had no idea, but he knew she was a danger to his well-ordered world. His body responded to her in ways he had never felt, and he became giddy looking at her.

A sky blue eye popped open. "How long have you been staring at me?" she asked in a sleepy voice.

"Since the sun came up, hours ago," he teased. "I was trying to use telepathy to tell you it was nearly time for brunch, but we didn't seem to connect."

"Or maybe we did. I kind of awoke when you moved your arm from under my head earlier, but went back to sleep for a while. A few minutes ago, though, I started feeling like I was being watched and I was.

"Are you frightened by my morning hair and breath, and lack of makeup?"

"You should slap your own hand when it tries to put makeup on you; it's like mutilating the Mona Lisa!"

Annika rolled her eyes and made a gagging sound, but it didn't deter him. "As to your hair, if you took a picture with that hair and made a poster of it, your swimsuit poster would lose its ranking. Now, the morning breath..."

She giggled, swung a pillow at him, called him a shit, and hustled into the bathroom to do her morning business and brush her teeth. Watching her backside in the negligee, Erik realized that derrière was featured thrice in SI for a reason, and that he had badly misjudged her curves.

She strutted back out wearing a fluffy robe and demanded he get dressed and feed her; she was starving! She then grabbed something floral out of the closet and returned to the bathroom. He put on drawstring shorts, an island shirt, and sandals, took up his phone, and waited, sitting on the bed. Expecting her to take half an hour or more, he was surprised when she came out only few minutes later with no makeup, her hair in a messy bun, and wearing a floral sundress that left her shoulders and calves bare.

She read his stare and went fishing for compliments: "Are you disappointed? I took you at your word and came in my natural state. Am I ghastly?"

He chuckled. "Hardly; you kind of took my breath away. As gorgeous as you are in photo shoots, the real you is many times more beautiful!"

She beamed, took his arm, and joked, "Well, then I guess you're willing to escort me to brunch. It's been a long time since that little filet!"

Annika au naturel was a surprise treat for everyone that was up and about, and she quickly drew a crowd of admirers that included Barry. A well-known singer said it for all the women: "Well, damn, Girl! I hoped that beautiful bitch I see all the time on magazine covers and TV was just the product of a good lighting and makeup artists, and then you come down here looking like that!"

Barry's wistful, "No, that's how she looks all the time" was kind of pitiful, but it only made Annika cling more tightly to Erik's arm before JoJo broke it up with another flamboyant appearance and demand that they come inside for the buffet!

The late morning was a happy replay of the evening, absent the A-level celebrities and alcohol, unless you count weak mojitos. After the long repast and lots of conversation, Erik leaned to his companion, and whispered, "That pool is beckoning me. How would you feel about a swim?"

"As much as I've enjoyed the company and conversation, my companion hears the pool calling us, so we're going to change. If it's calling you too we'll see you there; if not, it's been wonderful, and stay safe."

It must have been calling almost everyone, because all but a few joined them. Sports Illustrated had given Annika several of the bikinis she wore in Tahiti; she tried on two for Erik before he warned they weren't going to make the pool party if she didn't pick one and accompany him out to the pool.

She giggled, picked the one she had been saving for last, put on flip-flops, and asked, "How's this one?"

"Pretty decent, I guess, since SI picked it for the cover!" She giggled again as she took his hand, because his appreciation was evident even in his loose board shorts.

Erik walked her through all the admiring whistles and words, but this time the feminine moans and cries were directed at her escort. Long, lean muscles stretched over his perfectly proportioned 6'2" frame looked quite different uncovered, and he made Annika as tingly as she made him.

She giggled and pretended to fight when he led her toward the pool, knowing he wasn't going to stop until they were wet, but ran down and jumped into the shallow end before he could push her in. They were the first in, but soon everyone else had joined them.

Hanna and Johnny hadn't been seen since they left the party last night. They had even skipped brunch, so seeing them wandering down with plates of food and glasses of orange juice caught the attention of the crowd, resulting in the kind of harassment that turned Hanna's alabaster skin pink, and then red. Johnny tried to pretend he was embarrassed, but Erik knew he was actually preening. Having spent the night with Hanna was a exploit of which he was quite proud, not something embarrassing.

They found shady seats under an umbrella at a round table and commenced to eat their heaping plates of food. Those in the pool turned their attention back to their previous conversations and missed Barry walking down with a pitcher of Bloody Mary mix and a quart of Wigle Trope Organic Vodka. He took a seat at another table, and watched the pool while drinking one glass after another.

Meanwhile, Erik was bored with the discussion of which designer had the best fall lineup, and swam to the deep end. He slithered out of the pool, climbed onto the 1-meter diving board, and tested the bounce a couple of times before taking three prancing steps, jumping, and executing a flawless 1.5 flip in the pike position. The bounces had drawn a few eyes, but the sound of him exploding off the board drew most of the rest, including those of Hanna, Johnny, and Barry.

"Oh, my, honey, your new boy toy is more than just eye candy!" the pop singer exclaimed to Annika. "Is he an Olympic diver, or something?"

"Not that I know of, but, to be honest, we only met two days ago and I don't know that we've talked about him more than ten minutes since we met. Johnny, the one with Hanna, is his friend and business partner. Maybe we can learn something from him, if we can get them to come over here."

She signaled at Hanna, who gestured that she was still eating. Annika turned back to the board, where Erik was again poised to dive. He high-stepped toward the end, leaped high in the air, came down with his toes on the end, and exploded into the air. He was at least ten feet high when he suddenly grabbed his knees, threw his head backward, and executed a full gainer, his toes entering the water first, with only a ripple.

That earned a round of applause, and a cry of "More!" from his audience. He slithered out and stepped onto the board, paused, and then exploded off the board at a 20-degree angle, climbing even higher before dropping his head and hands backward. His broad shoulders followed, and he plummeted back to the water, entering with his hands, and again, causing only a ripple. "Damn, that half-gainer looked like something the diving team at Cal would execute in competition!" one of the actors exclaimed.

Annika had moved to the side to be able to watch him better, but now she was wondering where he went. Suddenly hands slipped up her hammies, pinched a portion of her exposed butt, and she shrieked in surprise and excitement. When Erik's head appeared right in front of her belly she wanted to pull it against her tingly puss, but she dunked him instead, drawing a laugh from her audience, and another shriek from her when his hands found more bare butt to pinch.