Water

Terrance and Doretha Hughes had always set their ambitions high, very high. Their parents had met in the hospital when they were born. Their mothers shared a room in the maternity ward and they had been born within hours of each other.

Both of their fathers were partners in their respective New York City law firms and they lived in the same neighborhood on Long Island. They grew up together. Went to the same schools. Vacationed in the same Hamptons or Martha's Island. They graduated from the same high school.

They were relaxed with each other, learned about sex together in college from the ground up and gave each other their virginity as freshman in the same university. They graduated together and were married before the end of the same summer.

Dora's mother insisted on a grand affair and her father gladly funded a wedding for four hundred family, friends, associates and, of course, clients. Terry and Dora planned on an elaborate lifestyle of grand homes and extensive travel exceeding the ones their parents had provided. They got off to a slow start. Terry leveraged his degree in accounting, focusing on the collection and reporting of taxes. He dreamed, absorbed and lived everything about personal and, especially, corporate taxes. He wasn't a lawyer but he knew more about tax law and how to apply it than any attorney. Three years after graduation, he was consulting with some large corporations on tax strategy and testifying in tax oriented lawsuits for both the government and the accused although in different trials.

Throughout, Dora was his assistant. Her ability to research and interpret what she found, and his ability to absorb it all, was the keys to their success.

Their big break came at the end of the fourth year, when Terrance testified in favor of a notorious New York real estate magnet in a case brought by the New York State Attorney General. They won that case and Terrance Hughes became a nationwide celebrity among accountants and lawyers.

He was approached by a Californian legal consortium. They offered an annual retainer larger than anything he or Dora ever imagined. They were twenty-six years old and moving to southern California. He would be working for a half dozen of the largest law firms in Los Angeles as an independent consultant. For reasons only they knew and were reluctant to share, they wanted him to work primarily from home with only rare appearances downtown and never in their offices.

The consortium set Terry and Dora up with a ridiculously low-rate mortgage on a home they couldn't have afforded otherwise. It wasn't an ostentatious, overly large structure with impenetrable walls, gates and around the clock security. His presence was to be as low key as his contribution was to be prodigious. Terrance Hughes disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.

The Hughes lived on a corner lot in a gated and walled bedroom community about forty miles from Los Angles in a forty-five hundred square foot home with a back yard unusually large for the area. After two years, they added a backyard swimming pool. It wasn't the usual rectangular hole in the ground with concrete, marble or terrazzo decking. The pool was somewhat kidney shaped, lined with natural stone and surrounded with slate and stone decking. There was a Jacuzzi tub at one end suitable for six bathers, eight if you squeezed in and weren't concerned about personal space. The Jacuzzi was fed by a stone waterfall and drained into the pool.

Privacy was a primary concern. The Hughes wanted to use the pool indiscriminately, day or night and without swimwear. The local ordinances limited the height of walls and fences surrounding yards and pools. The height was insufficient to shield the pool from sight by the neighbors in the next home in back of them and the neighbors on their right. The left side of the yard was open to the road and also needed privacy screening of some kind. They applied for a variance for a concrete wall along the road and twelve-foot-high fences on the other two sides of the yard.

Their application was rejected and they appealed the ruling. Terry mentioned the problem to one of the many partners in the consortium and, suddenly, their request was approved before the appeal was considered.

Over the next several years, Terry and Dora worked together on numerous tax related problems for both individuals, corporations, state and local governments and a couple of Federal agencies. Their living expenses were minimal for California and they invested most of their income in stocks, bonds and real estate through a national investment bank. In ten years, their net worth was approaching fifty million dollars although few people were aware of it, including their parents. They lived comfortably and spent cautiously, buying only the best furniture and fixtures for their home but driving cars similar to the cars of their neighbors. Their only extravagance was their semi-annual vacations.

No expense was spared when they were away from the prying eyes of Los Angeles. While they were anonymous at home, they were well known when they traveled, enjoying the perks offered by the airlines, hotels and restaurants. They flew first class and sometimes privately. They stayed in the best hotels in the best rooms and ate sumptuously in the finest restaurants. When they cruised, they booked the captain's suite. Life on the road was the payoff for the low profile, hard work they did the rest of the year.

Throughout, they maintained their two greatest loves, for each other and the thrill of entertaining others.

Over the years, they formed a friendship with their neighbors on the other side of the fence. John and Margaret Daniels were a couple of years older than they were. They had their own pool in the backyard and Terry and Dora frequently heard the Daniels' children and their friends frolicking in the water.

Over time, the Hughes and Daniels couples became acquaintances and then friends. As the Daniels' children aged and left for school and marriage, the pool became quiet and the friends became closer. Dora was the first to invite John and Marge to dinner and drinks and soon after, Marge invited them for dinner and more drinks.

John was impressed with the varied art displayed in the Hughes' house. He thought most of them were prints or copies and Terry did not correct his impression. John also enjoyed the impressive sound system in the living room guessing that it had cost much less than it actually had.

Over the next year, the four of them would meet almost every weekend for dinner and drinks. They greeted each other on the weekends with hugs and cheek kisses but nothing more suggestive. However, the relationship between the couples continued to develop. Together, they installed a gate in the fence between their backyards for convenience since they so frequently dined and swam together.

The relationship grew to the point that Terry and Dora wondered if John and Marge might be open to a more intimate relationship but were reluctant to raise the issue.

Dora was increasingly interested in John and shared her interest with Terry. Terry understood her interest and shared that he considered Marge an excellent quid pro quo. Dora thought that she would push the issue the following weekend. When the couples met in the Hughes' backyard for pool time and drinks, Dora revealed one of her favorite two-piece swim suits that she usually reserved for cruises.

The bottom wasn't quite a string bikini but it wasn't church modest either. The bottom fit tightly and she had to trim the top edge of her pubic hair to accommodate it. The top was perfect for a woman with C cup breasts. However, Dora's breasts were D sized. The result revealed the gentle curve of Dora's breasts from the sides as well as underneath and in between.

No one commented explicitly but Dora was convinced she had both John and Marge's attention. She confirmed her assumption when she observed Terry's smile and his attempts to control his laughter when he observed their neighbor's intense scrutiny. Dora cemented her neighbor's impressions when she didn't cover up during drinks before dinner later. She made it her responsibility to refill the empty glasses from the pitcher on the patio table, bending over in front of them as she did.

Later that night, Terry commented to Dora that her impression of a brazen wench during the afternoon was "off the charts" incredible. He admitted that her performance turned him on and he was prepared to show her how much immediately.

Later, Terry asked, "What's next?"

"Women are incredibly competitive," insisted Dora. "Marge is no different. She's already planning how to engage with a challenge of her own, so, prepare yourself. Next weekend things are going to get hot."

Dora's prediction was dead on. Saturday afternoon the two couples were gathered again alongside the Hughes' pool when Marge suggested it was time to take a "dip in the pool." She was wearing a cotton robe over her bathing suit. When she stood up to take off her robe, Dora gave Terry a gentle poke in the ribs with her elbow and grinned. However, Marge seemed reluctant to remove her robe. John understood Marge's hesitation. He had seen Marge in her bathing suit before she put on the robe.

John smiled at his wife and gave her a thumbs up to encourage her. Marge smiled at her husband and proceeded to remove her robe revealing a true string bikini. Not just any string bikini. A string bikini made from cloth the size of a small handkerchief with material left over. The triangles of fabric covering her nipples were scarcely the size of postage stamps and provided no support whatsoever for her ample bosom. The bottom was not quite three inches high and required Marge to completely shave her pubic hair to wear it. The whole thing could have been mailed in a number six envelope with a single forever stamp.

Marge paused in front of her companions, gaining confidence and giving them time to absorb the details of her body. Her husband smiled broadly at her, increasing her confidence further. Dora looked at Marge and nodded her head in appreciation. Terry stared, licked his lips and adjusted himself in his bathing shorts.

Marge turned and started for the steps leading into the pool. Dora stood. It was time to remove her robe and join her neighbor. Dora's reveal wasn't as dramatic as Marge's. Her bikini was smaller than the two-piece suit she had worn a week earlier but it wasn't as tiny and Marge's. The triangular cloth pieces that made up the top easily covered her nipples leaving most of her breasts exposed and the thong piece between her legs dipped dangerously low in front but not quite as revealing as Marge's. Dora did have to shave most of her mons to wear the bottom but she was able to leave a miniscule triangle of pubic hair. The whole thing might have fit in a number six envelope but it would take two forever stamps to mail it.

Marge grinned as she observed Dora walking toward the pool, barely able to suppress an arm pump of victory. Terry knew that Marge's euphoria would be short lived. He had seen Marge in that bikini on an adult's only cruise last fall and he remembered the most inconspicuous feature of the suit.

When John started to stand to join the women in the pool, Terry put out an arm to restrain him. "Wait," he said. "Give them a minute."

John remained seated and together they watched the women.

Dora walked one step at a time into the pool and then moved to the deeper end. Marge stood in the water, waist high, on the side of the pool and watched Dora. When Dora was shoulder high in the water she turned and started to walk back toward the shallow end. As she walked the level of the water moved slowly down her body. When it reached the middle of her breasts, just above her nipples, she stopped and looked, at first the men, and then Marge. When she had their attention she took two more steps. Her breasts rose out of the water and her suit top disappeared. She was still wearing it but it had become transparent in the water. Not just transparent like wet t-shirt material, transparent like clear glass.

Her nipples were prominently displayed, in full color, standing erect from the cool water. For all practical purposes she was naked.

Dora continued to walk to and up the steps at the end of the pool. The bottom her suit had the identical properties as the top. Everyone could see the miniscule triangle of pubic hair and the darker slit between her inflated labia that advertised her excitement about her nearly naked state.

John gave Terry a high five. "Thanks," he said.

Marge covered her mouth with her hands as Dora revealed herself and then began to laugh. She held her hand out to Dora and the women met in the middle of the pool in waist deep water.

"You win," said Marge. "I couldn't top that."

"Really?" questioned Dora.

"Really," admitted Marge.

Dora reached behind her back, untied the strings and pulled her top off over her head, leaving the view the men had of her scarcely unchanged. She tossed the top in the direction of the pool deck and it landed short, in the water. "Really?" she questioned again.

Marge was stunned for a moment. Then she said, "Why the fuck not?" and pulled off her own top. It landed in the water next to Dora's.

The women faced each other for a moment and then turned to face the men, unashamed of their nakedness.

Terry and John were initially stunned at the brazenness of their wives and then appreciative. They watched and waited for what the women would do next.

"Shall we finish?" suggested Dora quietly to Marge.

"We shall," answered Marge, "but first, the guys should join us in the pool."

Together, they waved at the men and gestured that they should join them in the pool.

John wasted no time walking to the pool, down the steps and over to the women. Terry got there first by jumping in the pool. Neither man seemed uneasy about the bulge in their swim trunks.

They stood in a small circle, women together on one side and the men together on the other.

"Ready?" asked Dora.

"Yea," answered Marge.

They reached under the water at their sides and a short moment later, emerged with their suit bottoms in their hands. They tossed the bottoms in the general direction of their tops.

Time stood still. Nobody moved. The men didn't know what to do but the women did. Dora impatiently put her hands on her hips and stared at Terry. "Well," she said.

Terry looked at her, looked at Marge, looked at John and reached a decision. "Why the fuck not?" he said.

Under the water, he pushed the sides of his trunks down on his thighs. He squatted in the water to push them further down to his calves where he could use his feet to remove them completely. He used one foot to lift his shorts upward until he could reach them with his right hand. He held his swim trunks over his head, spun them around and tossed them on top of the women's suits.

The water was clear but moving. If you looked, you could see a wavy picture of his very erect cock moving slowly back and forth below the surface of the water. Marge and Dora looked. Marge licked her lips.

John looked defeated. Grudgingly he removed his swim trunks in a manner similar to Terry and, with significantly less flair, tossed them onto the rest of the clothing floating in the pool. It was Dora's turn to lick her lips.

The next few minutes were uncomfortable for all of them. The tension broke when Terry began to swim the length of the pool. Soon, all four of them were swimming, playing, splashing in the water with no inhibitions from the way they were undressed. Marge was the first to acknowledge their nakedness. "I think I like skinny dipping," she declared.

Her statement drew unanimous agreement.

Terry began to do a backstroke, his now flaccid penis bobbing out of the water as his hips moved up and down. When Dora commented, he explained that swimming the usual way was like swimming with a rudder. When Dora breast stroked across the pool, John commented that it seemed appropriate.

The suggestive comments continued, becoming increasingly more bawdy and were followed by casual touching between partners. When Terry swam up behind Dora, put his arms around her chest and palmed her breasts, a pouting Marge commented, "That looks like fun."

Dora held her husband's hands in place on her breasts and said, "I'm sure John would be happy to oblige you."

"John does that all the time," Marge confessed. "I was thinking something different."

"You want Terry to ..." was as far as Dora got before Marge stopped her.

"Don't say it out loud," she interrupted.

Dora turned to look at Terry. "Terry ...," she said.

"Don't say it," he responded.

Several minutes later, Marge was standing in the water at the side of the pool when Terry came up behind her, put his arms around her and cupped her breasts in his hands.

Marge relaxed back in his arms. "John," she moaned.

"John's on the other side of the pool," said a voice in her ear.

Marge looked over her shoulder. "Terry?" she asked.

"Yes," Terry replied.

"Ooooh," she moaned and melted back into his arms.

Terry kissed the side of her neck and began to slide a hand down her abdomen.

Marge put a hand on his. "Where's John?" she asked.

"John's still on the other side of the pool. Take a look."

Terry turned them so Marge could see John and Dora. They were facing each other. John had his arms around Dora's waist. Dora was leaning back and John was kissing her breasts.

Marge released Terry's hand and they turned back toward the side of the pool. Terry's hand continued down until he could reach the top of her vaginal slit and her clitoris. With his index finger he rubbed the small button he found with a soft circular motion.

"Holy shit," exhaled Marge. "That feels incredible but not here," she pleaded.

Coincidently, Dora took that exact moment to declare, "We should take a break and have dinner."

Dora headed for the pool steps and John followed. Marge turned around in Terry's arms and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Later," she told him.

Terry took her around her hips and lifted her out of the water until she was sitting on the side of the pool with her legs in the water. He watched Dora lead John into the house before he leaned forward and kissed Marge on her inner thigh. Marge leaned back on her hands and spread her legs. Terry kissed up inside her thigh until he found her clitoris with his tongue.

Marge jumped as if struck by lightning. She pushed his head back, closed her legs and repeated, "Later."

She stood up unsteadily and headed for the house. Terry climbed out of the pool and followed her.

Dora was busy gathering the assorted parts of the dinner she had planned. John was sitting in a chair watching her when Marge and Terry entered the kitchen. Dinner was a collection of cold meats and salads with white wine and cold water.

"I think we should at least cover up for dinner," suggested Marge. "Eating naked somehow makes the dinner less refined to me."

"Terry," asked Dora. "Would you collect our robes from the pool deck, please?"

"I'll go home and get a robe for me," stated John.

"Don't be silly," asserted Dora. "When Terry gets back, he'll go get a robe for himself from the bedroom. He can loan you one of his."

Robed and hungry, the quartet settled around the patio table for a summer dinner and imported wine. Conversation was like every dinner conversation they had. Sports, fashion, weather, local politics. Nothing about their adventures in the pool that afternoon.

After dinner, they all helped with the clean up and then played Scrabble, a game Marge enjoyed since she was the most frequent winner.

Near nine, Dora suggested another dip in the pool. The sun had set about an hour earlier and the twilight was almost gone. Everyone agreed instantly. Another dip in the pool was exactly what the party needed. Terry went to turn on the pool lights. "No, no," suggested Dora. "Leave the lights off."