Pool Noodles

Trying to explain your job to someone could be tough when that job didn't even exist ten years ago. This was especially true when it had the delightfully non-descriptive career of 'influencer.' Video essayists and professional game players could call themselves 'filmmakers' or 'streamers.' Youtube had pierced the mainstream consciousness enough that your grandmother at least knew what it was.

Instasnap sounded like something your grandmother would say, almost like a portmanteau of two real websites like FaceSpace or Tweddit. It sounded like something someone would make up in a hurry, but... that's the name the creators really went with. As the name implied, it was about sending 'snaps' of yourself around the world instantly though the world wide web. There was a small description field to fill with hashtags, shallow affirmations and disclosures of brand deals... but the main focus were the pictures.

Thus, Instasnap was absolutely filled to the rafters with models.

Or at least women calling themselves models. If someone was able to make a living, or even break even, by posting images of their faces and bodies to Instasnap... they could safely call themselves a 'model.' Someone who wrote porn online might call himself an 'author' instead of the more accurate description 'writer' or 'degenerate,' but he'd only be fooling himself.

The life of the Instasnap model was one of glamorous locations, outfit changes, juice cleanses, and perhaps dubious sponsorship opportunities. It was like being a beautiful flower that could only be carefully cultivated if shielded and tended to by experts. Then again, that also described the manufacturing process of vanilla, and that flavor was so ordinary, the word itself was now a synonym for 'ordinary.' But these opinions changed through history. There was a period in early American history where lobster was considered food for the poor. Everything was in flux.

In the modern permanently online world, there was an army of lovely women on Instasnap trying to find a way to stand out in a very crowded market.

It was perhaps harder to do so when you lived in northwestern North Dakota.

Apparently, one 'north' didn't describe quite how cold and barren this area was. Williston was less than one hundred kilometers south from the Canadian border, a dry and cold city that wasn't nearly as interesting or fun as the big cities on America's coast. It was a fine place to work, some said. The population had swelled in the last ten years or so, but most of those were people working in the area with no permanent address.

Williston might be a fine place to work... but why would someone be a model if they wanted a normal job?

The most glaring feature Williston lacked that an Instasnap model might crave... were beaches. It was nearly in the dead center of the entire continent, far from either ocean. One could go to Lake Sakakawea and have a jolly time and enjoy the somewhat natural beauty of a man-made lake, but it was not like a normal sandy beach facing an ocean. There certainly weren't any palm trees there. The nearest beaches that were more traditional were probably on Lake Superior to the east...quite a drive away. If you framed the shot just so... the followers might believe your sand-coated feet were facing the Atlantic Ocean... instead of a lake.

That was the life of the Instasnap model. If you couldn't afford to fly to Belize... every beach essentially looked the same. From San Francisco to Cape Verde... sand looked like sand and water looked like water. The only things in the sand that might give away your actual location were the seashells... and litter. All you had to do was turn off geolocation.

For those who couldn't afford the trip to a real beach in Michigan and pretend that it was Barbados... it was fortunate that pools looked like pools anywhere in the world.

Whoever decided to open a large outdoor public pool in North Dakota must have been mentored by Captain Wrong Way Peach Fuzz, but there it was: the Williston Sports and Leisure Center and Pool. It supplied facilities for other athletic activities that made more sense for winter like basketball courts and batting cages. But those were sensibly inside the building, shielded from the weather. Whereas the pool was outside the back of the facility, where it would be much too cold to use for at least half the year. There was also that unnecessary double 'and' in the title of the facility. Maybe they wanted to specifically namedrop the pool in the facility's name so drunken idiots wouldn't try to ice fish in it in the winter.

In early April, on the first somewhat sunny day, Nikki wanted to get some shots of her lounging casually by a pool. Maybe she'd say this pool was in a resort in the Phillipines, but not say exactly where. There were over ten thousand islands for there to be a pool to visit. Nobody could call her out then without properly checking them all first.

Nikki and her photographer Diana drove into the mostly deserted parking lot of the Williston Sports and Leisure Center and Pool. There was a slightly dusty sedan in the parking lot, as desaturated and lusterless as the rest of this town... and next to it, a snazzy electric car in bright blue. It stood out like a gold coin sitting in a litter box.

Nikki squinted as she saw the car. She'd seen someone driving around with that car... but who? Where did the owner even charge that thing in this hopeless backwater?

She parked a respectful few spaces away from the other cars and stepped out. Nikki wanted to maximize their photo time, so she had gotten dressed in her apartment. This means she was walking around this cold morning in a small pink bikini, sunglasses and high heels. She had her brown leather bomber jacket, the fur lining pulled in close to her neck. Diana pulled the camera bag and the folding beach chair out from the backseat and followed her inside.

Even though this place wasn't meant to be open for another hour or so... there was already someone else here.

Riley, the woman at the front desk, was talking to a tall woman with dusty blonde hair. She had a nearly square face with prominent cheekbones leading to a wide mouth with plump lips and a beauty mark a bit off from her nose. It was almost suspiciously perfectly placed, as if she could rub it off with her thumb like a fleck of chocolate. Her body was full and mostly curvy, hidden under a dark overcoat, with her shapely bare legs sticking out beneath them.

Nikki immediately recognized her. This was Felecia, a fellow Instasnap model from around the same area. Despite living in the same city, the only reason Nikki knew her was because Instasnap had suggested her as a friend at some point. Presumably, Instasnap's algorithms found that they were often going to the same salons and boutiques and thought they might know each other. They had interacted a few times through the website... mostly negatively.

"What are you doing here?" Nikki snapped quickly, pulling her sunglasses up off her head.

Felecia turned her head towards her. This was the first time they'd met in person, but with the intensity of their prior interactions, it didn't feel like it. Felecia immediately felt tension rise in her throat. She responded, "I should ask you the same thing. This place isn't open until ten o'clock."

"I know it's not." Nikki said. "That why I reserved the hour before they opened."

"But that's what I did." Felecia said. "I reserved it a week ago."

"I did, too!" Nikki persisted. "What, are you stalking me?"

"You wish." She shook her head.

"Well, get lost." Nikki said. "Find some other pool to pretend to drink those sponsored energy drinks in."

"I reserved this place today, and I'm getting some pictures of me in that pool." Felecia said. "I don't care what you do, but keep me out of your pictures."

"Like I'd want you in my 'snaps anyway!"

"Ladies!" Riley said, holding out both hands. "I'm sorry for this oversight that has led to this double-booking. I'll refund the reservation fee if you like. But... this pool normally holds twenty-five swimmers at once. Surely, you can just... both use it at the same time. Draw a line down the middle like a sitcom if you want, but... we can agree to share, correct?"

They glanced at each other. If they just kept to themselves, they could both just get through this and go on with their day, right? Every second they were in front of this desk was a second they weren't striking an attractive pose, and one less picture they could post for their followers.

They both quietly agreed to share the pool.

--

Nikki had wished that the pool was hundreds of feet long, so they could just stay at the opposite ends of it like a rich couple in a strained loveless marriage eating dinner at the opposite ends of a banquet table. But this pool was probably twice as long as an in-ground pool at a house in the suburbs. Not that many people in Nebraska fussed with in-ground pools, of course. It rarely got above 80 degrees, and even then, the relatively arid conditions made it very survivable with just a fan.

Felecia went inside to change, so Nikki chose her half of the pool and opened up her lounge chair. Diana set up her camera and tripod, a DSLR that was a few years old by now. It still took fine pictures in the RAW file format. Most of the fancy stuff on newer camera models were for doing video, something that Nikki rarely indulged in. She enjoyed the crisp clarity of ultra-high-definition pictures, something that no moving format, even HD video, could quite match.

This was why Diana was an invaluable member of her team... if two people were enough to make a team. Diana's photography really helped her images stand out above the phone selfie-takers and other rank amateurs. There was more setup and faff to deal with using real DSLRs, but thankfully Diana handled all of it with precision and speed. It did mean Nikki often found herself holding the end of a measuring tape AND a light meter, so Diana could find the precise settings she needed. But the work spoke for itself.

Felecia emerged from the double doors, having changed somewhere inside. For the first time, Nikki got an eyeful of Felecia in real life. She packed herself into a little pink bikini with a high-cut pair of bottoms, a line of untanned flesh above the cups of her top. She had a barbell piercing in her navel with a clear gemstone, probably not a real diamond. Felecia's camerawoman, Miranda, caught this entrance on her choice of equipment, a state-of-the-art smartphone on a special handheld stabilizer. Felecia came to rest on her bamboo beach chair set at the other side of the pool, crossing her legs and striking a relaxing pose.

Nikki looked annoyed. She dropped the measuring tape and walked to the edge of the pool, still unwilling to violate the invisible line dividing the pool in half. "Hey!" She called over.

Felecia craned her head over. "Yes?" She asked.

"You're wearing pink."

"Yes, I am."

"You need to change. I'M already wearing pink."

Felecia slid her sunglasses off. This was her first time seeing Nikki in person, without any filters or other such adjustments. She was skinny, almost waif-ish, with a bust that clearly had been altered. Her skin was fair, her hair platinum blonde and cut into a fringe that usually covered her right eye. Her bikini revealed her midsection, and her remarkable, almost washboard abs. Maybe she worked out to get those, but the rest of her was small, thin and petite.

"I'm not changing." Felecia said. "This is the only swimsuit I brought today. Because I'm not using this as an opportunity to pretend I'm in five different five-star hotels across the next year."

Nikki scoffed, clearly rumbled, but she did not retort. She went back to her side of the pool, searching in her bag and pulled out another bikini. Diana picked up the huge striped beach blanket and held it out with both arms at shoulder-height.

"I'm not looking." Felecia called out from across the pool. "Even if I was, you haven't got anything I haven't seen."

Nikki came out from behind the towel with a green bikini, mostly similar to the pink one with some incidental differences too small to bother noticing.

"Now that you're wearing green, you can chroma-key it and any color you want in post." Felecia grinned as she looked at her book.

"I don't edit my pictures like you." Nikki called back. "I don't NEED to."

Felecia didn't respond, taking a sip from her energy drink.

"That can isn't even open!"

"I'll get a slow-mo shot of it opening later." Felecia said. "Sponsor thing. You know how it is."

"I don't know 'how it is' to get sponsored by a soda. I get sponsors for shoes and makeup and such. You know, stuff that GIRLS like."

Felecia took another fake sip, not taking any haste to respond. "Maybe they decided to sponsor me because I'm so calm and they wanted to change that. Maybe the makeup and high heel companies picked you because... well, I guess they saw an opportunity."

Nikki growled. "Do your fans know you're so mean?"

"They won't hear any of this." Felecia said softly, speaking while moving her lips as little as possible like a ventriloquist. "We'll put some trendy song over this when it gets posted. It doesn't matter what we say to each other. Nobody will hear it. Get it all out of your system."

Nikki inhaled to speak again... but Felecia was prepared with her own rebuttal: a set of white earbuds. She set the first one in her left ear, clearly turned towards Nikki, and added the second one after. Apparently, Felecia had somehow never been offered the Raycon sponsorship.

With a sigh, Nikki reached into her bag and brought out her tanning mirror. Diana got some shots of her from below, her mirror stretched out below her like a pulpit.

On the side that was meant to be reflective... it was just white paper. It did reflect the sun a little bit. Diana would just have to emphasize the glow later. That didn't count as editing. Just emphasizing what was already there...

--

The joint filming and photography sessions went smoothly for a little while. Felecia's filming didn't seem to impact Nikki's photos at all. The sound of Diana's camera shutter would appear in the background of Felecia's video, if she wasn't overdubbing the sound most of the time to add some excruciating techno beat that was popular on these websites for unknown reasons. Even if she didn't... the sound made it feel like she had a photographer AND a videographer. Maybe she'd leave it in on a few vids...

Like she said she would, Felecia and Miranda got some shots of the her sponsored soft-drink cans getting opened. Felecia shook them back and forth in one hand, a similar motion to the hand signal that the British floridly called 'wanking.' It seemed a weird way to purposely shake up a carbonated beverage, but it also shook her breasts a bit. Maybe they were also catching that shot in slow-motion. Maybe she'd check her Instasnap to be sure...

But that wasn't worth the sacrifice. Nikki kept lounging, having hidden the iron fence at her side with a few towels draped over it. In a shot poised from high above, Diana hid the bottom of the fence with her photography bag. She tried to avoid having stuff like that in the background of shots, but if this helped sell the illusion of this being somewhere else, then so be it.

Miranda stepped back as Felecia rose from her beach chair and stood at the long end of the pool. She pointed her hands above her head and jumped in, diving into the pool and swimming the entire length as gracefully as a dolphin. There was hardly even any splashing. Nikki almost wished she'd gotten her wet so she could say something about it.

Felecia climbed the ladder at the deep end, the water scattering across her body. She looked down at herself and quickly brought her arms up to her top, adjusting herself as discretely as she could. Her head peeked over her bare shoulder to Nikki. They made eye contact for a moment before Nikki averted her gaze and put her sunglasses down over her eyes for a second.

Convinced that the 'girls' were back in their proper place, Felecia turned and walked alongside the pool, and back to her chair.

Her top may have been appropriately covering her now, but something had slipped out of her bottoms.

And it certainly wasn't her tampon string.

Felecia seemed entirely unconcerned that her cock was now hanging out from her bikini bottoms. It wobbled up and down as she walked, her thick thighs brushing together and rolling her balls back and forth like two giant saddle bags on the back of an exhausted horse. How could she not FEEL this? She'd been so careful not to expose a nipple by mistake, and then walks causally, dong flapping free.

Nikki felt it, right in her heart as she stared at the appendage as it wagged beautifully back and forth. It was a mighty big one, too, maybe seven or eight inches flaccid. Little drips of water jumped from the tip as it bobbed about.

"You OK?" Diane asked, peeking out from behind the camera.

Nikki looked up to her, and then back across the pool. Felecia was back in her chair. If her cock was still hanging out, she could no longer see it past her thigh. She stretched her arms above her head and went back to her book. Her hands never seemed to go back to her groin to address the situation. For all she knew, it was still there, hanging uncomfortably from her bottoms and getting a tan on this cold overcast North Dakota day.

Even though Nikki didn't like soda, suddenly she wish she'd had something to drink. Some fruity cocktail in extravagant stemware would look nice in the shot. She dug through her bag and pulled out another towel and put it over her legs.

Diana rarely had to give Nikki direction during a photo shoot, but she felt compelled to interject. "What are you doing? You're covering up the gams!"

"I'm just a little cold." She said. "Don't want to have pictures of me with goosebumps." She reached into her bag and opened her little book of sudoku puzzles.

A few moments later, she snickered.

"Gams..." She whispered.

Diana and her love of deeply outdated slang...

--

Nikki eventually slid the towel back down off her legs. Her legs might not be as long as Felecia's, but they were still one of her nicest features. She posed a few different ways, each time waiting for that familiar shutter sound before moving to a new one. Only a few of these would make it out, whatever one she liked best.

Felecia's hand went into her purse and pulled out a small bottle. She spritzed down her legs, making them sparkle with moisture. She rubbed the substance, either moisturizer or sunscreen, into her legs with both hands.

Nikki watched from across the pool, watching through the corner of her eyes as she kept her face pointing forward, trying not to look like she was watching. Surely, if she was rubbing her legs, she HAD to feel her schlong hanging out from her bikini... right? She'd barely taken her eyes off it this entire time. Maybe she'd sneakily tucked it back in somehow.

Maybe it was still out... but her videographer was moving all about her, catching her every angle. It had to get in frame... right? Did her fans... know about this? As much as Nikki saw the advantages of such a nice big cock, it might not be appreciated enough to go 'mainstream,' so to speak.

Nikki did her best to focus on her side of the pool. Surely, she could get enough pictures of her sipping empty cappuccino cups and conspicuously opening expensive branded gift boxes, pack up and leave. Doing this with anyone else around was already annoying, like she had a witness to her setting up her magic tricks. She should just cut her losses and fill the rest of her day with some other shots around her apartment. Maybe she could film herself self-consciously looking at trendy fruits at the grocery store... though they might not approve of the bikini.