Playing Around the Water Ch. 01

Thanks P_Anderer for editing!

This story mostly happens in and around a place known locally as 'The Spring', so I firstly need to explain what that is.

The Spring is located in a small lowland park in the middle of my Eastern European city. The park's center is a natural mineral water source, which was adopted long ago by the city authorities: a few asphalt alleys, park benches, children's playgrounds. The water of the spring runs from several taps where you can fill a bottle. There is also a narrow stream with concrete banks. The stream is maybe half a meter wide and half a meter deep, yet still lovely: clear and quick, with bright pebbles in the bottom. Being a home for a few ducks, it is a favorite place for locals to wander along.

At the beginning of the stream, people submerge into the cold clear water. In my childhood days, it was considered somewhat weird, and there weren't any conveniences for those who wanted to bathe, but they still did. In recent years, it was finally acknowledged as a popular amenity. The place near the rising of the stream was widened and deepened to produce a convenient two-by-three meters pool, maybe a meter deep, with stairs and bright tiling; changing rooms were added.

The water is cold, maybe 10 degrees Celsius (that would be 50 Fahrenheit for you in the US), so it requires some bravery to try. Still, it is a pleasant experience, both refreshing and energizing! So, there is somebody diving there at almost any time of the year. Obviously, there are more people in the summer, but there are some regulars, even in cold and snowy weather. Many of them are fans of a healthy lifestyle, some hipster young types and not a small bunch of grandpas (and an occasional grandma) clinging to their old habits. Others are just middle-aged people going for that feeling of being refreshed and energized before a long day--and that would be me.

The routine is simple: you get there, change in your swimming suit, get into the pool, then get out after a few seconds (or a few minutes if your spirit is strong and a line of others is small), maybe sunbathe or wander for some time, or maybe go in for a second dip, before changing back to your street clothes, and back to normal life. Those of the regulars who usually come at the same time recognize each other with a small nod or occasional "Hello", but rarely engage in conversation--at least not me, until that one time.

That was mid-winter one year, not too cold but still around freezing temperature; the crowd at the spring was small, mainly consisting of vaguely familiar faces. But hers was not; I was sure of it: I have never before seen a Black girl here, definitely not at this time of the year.

As I've already told you, my city is in Eastern Europe, and the population is primarily white. There are some foreigners, though: Asians, Arabs, and Black people. Most of them are students: the city's universities have a reputation of being decent yet cheap. Both claims are somewhat exaggerated if you ask me, but foreign students do come here. So, the girl must've been a student (I learned later she indeed was), and there would be nothing out of the ordinary to meet her in any other place in the city, but here, in the snow, in just her bright red swimsuit, waiting for a dip in 10-degree water? Now that one was definitely not ordinary.

We stepped up to the bath at almost the same time, and I gentlemanly let her go first. It seemed as though it was not her first time. She stepped in confidently, submerged completely and stayed under the water for a few seconds, and then loudly emerged, with splashing and snorting, visibly enjoying the experience. I looked at her briefly, not in a 'man-looks-at-woman' way, just an appreciative look at a fellow water-lover, somewhat weirdly proud even--I don't know which: either of this strange girl or the spring's effect on her.

She must've appreciated the attention: later, when we both were dressed and starting to make our way out, it was me who she asked where the WC was. Maybe she guessed I was her best bet for a conversation in English: that day's other swimmers were mostly grandpas, and those people rarely speak anything except our local language.

I showed her the way, and then we went to the bus stop together, and this brief encounter turned out to be a beginning of an unlikely friendship.

It was just all accidental: I went there three or four times a week, as usual, and she did, too. Our schedules intersected most of the time, so we started to say hello, then make quick small talk. Nothing too long at first, things like "How do you like today's weather?" or "You skipped last week." But somehow, we both found the conversations pleasant and started to know each other a bit better. We shared basic facts about ourselves, but mostly talked about books and countries: my country, her country, and various other countries we've never been to but planned or dreamed of visiting. After a few weeks, I suddenly realized that we started to wait for each other if one was late--without any explicit agreement.

She was indeed a student from Kenya, studying some engineering stuff, a sporty and book-loving type. She first dipped in the spring in a company of friends due to some stupid semi-drunken bet, but unlike her friends, found out she really liked it. "Makes me really aware of my body, really be in it," she explained. See, we talked about the body too, nothing too sensuous or flirtatious, yet she was quite open about it, and I liked that and felt at ease talking to her.

Once she mentioned how unusual the changing rooms felt at first. They were simple: not closed ones with doors, so not actually cubicles, just labyrinth-style spaces with a wall making a small corridor and a place to hide from others' eyes. After the latest renovation, the changing rooms were rebuilt for two people each: one for two men and one for two women, so when there were some people around (and there typically were), you needed to change together with some stranger. She complained about it, not in a self-conscious but rather in a playful manner: how weird it was at first to undress with no door to lock, and under the accidental stare of a white woman; odd, yet interesting odd, or so I understood. In a moment of boldness, I decided to go along with this playfulness and said half-jokingly: "You know, the one in the changing room closer to the exit could be even visible from the outside, if they aren't careful."

It seems I guessed her mood right because she answered, with the same playfulness: "Oh, it teases my exhibitionist tendencies!"

Nevertheless, I hadn't given this exchange much thought, till one time, when I was dressed first, and she waited in line, we started to discuss some new movie, and continued the discussion when she went inside--so I stayed close to the entrance to the women's area. Decently close, of course, just to keep the conversation with somebody inside. At some point, I noticed I could see her bending to look for something in her backpack: bending just enough outside of the protective wall that I could see her breasts from the side. I imagined she did it intentionally, so I shamelessly enjoyed the view of her small firm breast with its very dark, small, erect nipple, whilst continuing the conversation at the same time. Then, answering my question about the movie character, she looked in my direction, and I caught her momentary surprise from realizing that I saw her. But she just continued to look in her backpack, without any attempt to cover herself or step back, and I continued to stare, half thinking I probably should not.

In a few minutes, fully dressed, we silently walked towards the park exit, feeling a weird mixture of awkwardness, joy, and a shared secret--or at least that's what I felt.

"Sorry for the show," she said finally, "It wasn't intentional."

But her tone was light, and there was a warmth in it, so I answered simply:

"Sorry for staring... I thought it was and was just being polite," at which point she laughed and admitted, "It actually might've been! I really like to show myself... But I need to feel safe."

"I really liked looking at you, and I assure you are completely safe with me," I answered simply.

"So, we are good?"

"We are good."

In a couple of days, the show was repeated: this time, it was definitely intentional. I hung around near the entrance of the female changing room when she went in there, at a respectable distance. She made a point of waiting till that 'semi-visible' place near the exit was free to take. She then continued the dialog as she went in there, so I needed to step closer. And then she seemed to deliberately not conceal herself. There was a moment when she even asked me to pass her the towel, which she'd left outside, so I needed to step even closer and saw her in just her panties. They were plain white ones, sports style, non-transparent, I managed to see. At that point, it became really hard for me to maintain an innocent dialog!

"How did you like it?" she asked afterward, obviously making fun of my earlier enchantment with her body.

"I liked it a lot," I answered in a mockingly formal tone and was rewarded with her laughter.

"Have you seen a black girl naked before, by the way?"

I confirmed I had not, so I was not only pleased but insanely curious to discover more.

"And how much more would you like to discover?" She seemed to be genuinely interested in my answer, but I suddenly felt shy about my curiosity and just managed to blurt, "Well... everything!"

She wasn't satisfied. "But what do you really mean by everything?"

"Well, everything... personal about you."

"Tell me in detail?" she asked, her interest seemed piqued and she sounded genuine, so I, somewhat insecurely, told her 'the details'.

"Well... I really want to see your boobs more and see your naked ass and your pussy. And I want to see how your pussy looks when you're aroused, and see your inner lips, and your clitoris and your... entrance. I want to see how you masturbate, and all the different sorts of stimulation you like, and how do you look when you are orgasming, and... I'd like even see you peeing..."

She felt silent for a few steps, and my heart sank. Then she let out a small, and, it seemed, embarrassed giggle.

"Sorry," I managed to say, "Was that too much? But you did ask."

And then, in a suddenly changed, lower voice, she answered seriously, "Hell no, it is such a turn-on... Thank you for the candidness!" And then, in a more playful tone, "We'll see what can be done in this regard."

And so it was, her game started.

The next time we were at the spring, she stood in the changing area with her back to me--but this way I saw her entirely--and she even looked around a few times, to make sure I did. Then slowly, she took off her swimsuit, and I saw her nice firm bottom naked for the first time. She took her time showing off her behind to me, standing completely naked, drying herself slowly with a towel, and even spreading her legs a bit, to dry between them. She looked in her bag for her clothes, and even dressed in the 'wrong' order, first putting on her bra, then a shirt and a sweater, and only then bent slowly, erotically, to put on her panties and warm pants. There was no awkwardness in our conversation this time; we managed to continue befriending each other, talking about a mix of topics ranging from the current book one of us read, to how magnificent her derriere looked, to some university trouble, to whether she has more revealing panties--which she did, but they waited for warmer weather... which was approaching.

She played the game now almost every time, depending on how many people were around. She varied her strategies and even took my suggestions on how to tease better. Sometimes she stood with her back, and her sweet, firm, dark ass, to me. Sometimes, she was half-turned so that I could see her boobs from the side. A few times, she was brave enough to stand facing the exit--and me, but those times, she always managed to stand in a way that I couldn't see her pubes, only a breast, and a nicely curved thigh or, the panties she already had put on. To be fair, the panties did become thinner and lacier with warmer weather; so, while I had never seen her fully nude from the front, I noticed that her pubic hair should be wild and very dark.

When I said how erotically charged it had felt that one time when she dressed in the 'wrong' order, she started to play on that, too. How long could she manage her dressing routine, so that it looked normal to other women in the room, but left her discretely indecent? Quite long, as it turned out: in the most delightfully prolonged version I remember, she calmly put on the bra, a shirt, a sweater, then her panties--but only raised them to her knees, then did the same with pantyhose and jeans. Fortunately, on this occasion, there actually were no other women in the other part of the room. She put on her socks and even her boots, warm jacket and then proceeded to put her backpack on--and stood there for a few moments like that. Just imagine: fully dressed from the waist up and from the knees down, but with naked ass, which I could adore from a mere two meters distance. Then she swiftly turned, simultaneously pulling up her pants, and I almost managed to see her mons... but no, it was already covered.

Some other time, I noticed a small patch of dark hair sticking out from her underarm: either I had missed it before, or it had just grown wilder in the recent weeks. Without a second thought, I tugged it playfully. (At this point, we didn't avoid physical contact completely, but it was just what friends can do--like throwing a towel on other's shoulders or gently poking in the back: 'Pool's empty, go swim'). So, I tugged this curly dark hair, and she just laughed in response, the slightest bit embarrassed. "Yeah, I get lazy in the winter, it grows."

I jokingly asked, "What, everywhere?"

"Yeah, you can see for yourself if you like!"

"Well, that's an offer nobody can say 'no' to!"

So, when she went to change, I was standing almost purposefully (but only for her) with the line of sight inside the room. This time, she was not very playful yet was very deliberate: she stood almost outside of the covering wall, in the corridor, and simply took off the top half of the swimsuit. Then she stuck her thumbs in the waistline of the bottoms and--after what seemed like a moment's hesitation--took them down, too, stood upright and froze for a few moments before turning around and proceeding to dress. This time, I saw everything, and her bush was as wild as I'd imagined, just shaven from the sides for the swimsuit.

"Did you like it?" she asked with a sudden shyness when we walked through the park, which was almost deserted that day, under a cover of thin fog.

"Yes. Yes, it looks beautiful... And so different, like it should feel different, too." As soon as I said that, she took my hand, and stuck it into the waistband of her jeans, under the jeans and panties, just like that. Not very deep, but I felt quite a handful of those thick curly hairs, and it felt different and lovely, indeed.

"Thank you," was all I managed to say when she pushed my hand away.

Since that day, she continued to play her teasing game, with the difference that I was allowed to see her entire body now. And also, she constantly tried to invent new tricks to entertain me--or, rather, us both, as she seemed as thrilled by everything happening as I was. I came to admire her style, how she constantly tried to push her game a bit into an unknown direction, but never became reckless, always being slow and careful: her shows always were just for the two of us, however hard it was to pull it off in a public place. And she always thought of something new, in the most delightful way: not to show more every time, but to change the situations, to alter the expectations. Some time, say, she started to take her jeans and panties off from the first step in the corridor (still being visible for me only, but I had a splendid sight of the naked ass of the girl who does several small steps forward with her panties around her knees). Or went out of the room because she 'forgot' her boots outside, being dressed only in a long sweater, going just below her ass. Only from the short distance could you see how loosely it was knit and that she had absolutely nothing underneath, except her smooth dark skin, even darker, erect nipples, and that adorable tangled bush.

Frequently, she repeated the 'dress in the wrong order' game, experimenting with styles of clothes, and the order of teasing, like putting pants on without panties, then making an "Oh, how could I forget?" face, and taking them off again...

Then, this one time, a completely new and awesome thing happened.

It looked like the usual 'wrong order' game at first: a bra, then an undershirt, then a sweater, both short enough to leave everything below the waist on show for my grateful eyes. Then, she put on a coat which she started to wear lately when the weather improved: the coat was longer than her winter jackets but much thinner. Standing there, in an unbuttoned coat and with naked thighs and legs, she slowly put on some new spring boots, almost knee-high. And that was that. She just buttoned the coat and turned into a well-dressed city lady, and only I knew she had her ass and pussy naked under the coat.

"Wow, that's crazy awesome," was all I managed to say.

"I know, right? Shocked myself a bit, honestly," she laughed, "But I really wanted to try! I even borrowed my sister's boots, to look... decent," and she looked around herself, visibly proud.

"Aren't you cold?"

"I am, a bit. But it actually turns me on. It makes me focus on those cold parts."

"So... Are you wet right now?" I boldly queried, briefly wondering if I overstepped the invisible borders of our game.

But apparently, I hadn't, as she just took my hand in hers and stuck it right between folds of her coat for the briefest second. Before I understood what was happening, it was over, but I knew my fingers brushed something really hot and very wet. Without a second thought, I licked them and said playfully: "With this development, just in a few months, I might be able to have quite a feel of your body."

She looked somewhat uneasy. "Sorry... I don't want to rush towards something concrete; I am just enjoying our game."

"Me too!" I confirmed. And indeed, however weird it sounds, I didn't crave to 'have' her, nor did it seem like the start of some serious relationship. Just a game, a fabulously unpredictable one, and I wanted it to stay that way, at least for some time.

"So, we are good?"

"We are good!"

And we continued to talk as we usually did, mix of books, movies, general "How's life and university and work?" and intimate bodily feelings. Somehow in this chatter, she managed to casually mention it would be cool to try diving absolutely naked. With her fascination with a feeling of cold against her body, it should be heavenly.

"Then why don't you do just that?" I said semi-jokingly (how most of our crazy ideas were discussed).

"We can just come here in the night. I believe we might have enough privacy for that."

To my surprise and fascination, she was immediately taken by the idea.

"Can we do it Saturday night? Like, this Saturday?"

And we did.

I met her at the entrance of the park around 2am. She wore the same coat and high boots--and I immediately wondered how much she had underneath. I learned the answer as soon as we reached the changing rooms, where, thankfully, nobody else was hanging around that night. Without even bothering to go too far inside, just one step between the walls, she turned around, took off the coat, and gave it to me. She wasn't as naked as I expected, but not too heavily clothed either. The boots followed the coat; she stepped into rubber flip-flops, as we usually do. Then jeans followed, then that loose-knit sweater, and that was that. I had all of her things in my hands; she was completely naked, no underwear this time. I put her clothes on the bench near the changing rooms and took from my backpack the large towel the size of a bedsheet I brought for the occasion. I opened the towel, and she stepped outside, letting me wrap her, hug her with the towel, and walked her, hugging, to the pool. There, she shook the towel off.