John sat poolside at the San Diego hotel, enjoying the balmy air and a well-worn paperback, disappointed to have the place to himself. Certainly as the sun climbed higher, the prospect of a refreshing dip and a sunbathing session would have to attract some nice-looking women in skimpy swimsuits. He hoped so. He had extended his stay beyond the TPS conference wrap-up for mainly that reason.
He was twenty-five, and finding dating much more difficult after graduating from college. There was less time, and fewer opportunities, for meeting new women. Friends were getting married, moving away, or chasing careers. His own circle of acquaintances was a played-out mine: even considerable effort would probably yield nothing. He had to try someplace else, meet some new people.
He probably expected too much out of ten in the morning on a Thursday; perhaps things would pick up toward the weekend. And sitting by the pool, in swim trunks, enjoying a good book and cold beer, beat standing in line at Lindbergh for a flight home. Still, the serenity bugged him. A twenty-two story resort hotel, and nobody at the pool.
He settled back in the canvas lounge chair and opened his book: a well-worn collection of classic Lovecraft stories. He had read them enough times that he could write out long sequences, word for word, from memory if he ever needed to. There hadn't been time to get something new at the library. The stories had staying power, though. Not like the airport bookstore paperbacks that were good for only one reading.
He peeked up. He was no longer alone; a young woman stood near the gate, surveying the area. She looked to be mid-twenties, though for many Asian women age was typically hard to judge. Even taking into consideration his preference for women like her, this one was gorgeous.
She had an exquisite face and captivating eyes, framed by black hair falling gently past the shoulder. Her slim figure was adorned with a black bikini/halter top, more sporty than sexy, but showing (or creating) excellent cleavage; and red running shorts, where a strap peeking above the waistband suggested the matching swimsuit bottom beneath. Her pale skin implied she hadn't seen much sun in a while.
Her eyes met his; she smiled and walked over. The day was getting better already.
"Hi, I'm April." She sat down at the foot of his lounge. He eagerly shifted his feet to make room.
"John," he said, leaning up to shake her hand. "Glad to see I'm not the only one here."
"Oh, I'm meeting someone," she said.
Well, that didn't take long, he thought. It seemed foolish to expect a woman like this to be unattached. He chided himself for running away with a premise that wasn't even there. She had only just said hello.
She glanced at his book. "Call of Cthulhu?"
"Yeah," he said, automatically, before he noticed how she had said it. "Hey, that's pretty good. Hard name to pronounce, but you nailed it."
"I read a bunch of Lovecraft when I was fifteen. Discovered 'Dunwich Horror' in an anthology, and then I had to find everything else he wrote. Kind of florid writing, but some original ideas."
A hot chick that knows Lovecraft, he marveled. Where were girls like her when he was fifteen?
He said, "I originally got into it for the monsters, when I was about ten. Only later did I go back and reread some of those stories. I had overlooked a lot."
She smiled. "Funny thing; now I'm majoring in marine biology. Some of the real animals underwater are as weird as his monsters."
"I know what you mean. Lobsters, jellyfish..."
"Here's what's really creepy", she said, tapping his knee. "You know about anglerfish?"
"Kind of. They have a little phosphorescent light, to attract other fish?"
"Yeah. Bioluminescent. Anyway, there's one species where the females are ten times as large as the males. The male only lives for one purpose. When it's time to mate, he implants himself into the female's skin and releases his sperm. Then he fuses to her and sticks there forever."
He grimaced, taken aback by not only the male angler's fate, but her choice of topic. Marine sex life seemed a little forward for someone she had just met. Then again, if she felt comfortable around him, why question it? he thought. Just play it cool. Kid around a little.
"How's that for commitment?" he said.
"I know! Gradually his vital organs shut down and he transitions over to her bloodstream. No longer a separate life form. Some females have several males implanted like that."
"What a way to procreate, huh?"
"I gotta say I prefer the human way," John said, pleased with the direction the conversation was taking. He pictured April with him, the human way, top, shorts, and everything off. Good thing she couldn't read his mind.
"Same with me," she said. Her hand left his knee, but she still sat quite close to him, leaning forward. If she really had a guy, would she be flirting like this? It was flirting, right? The view of her breasts filling out her top was spectacular. Don't Screw This Up, John told himself.
She stood up. "Oh, my friend's here." She leaned down to shake his hand. "It was really nice to meet you, John."
"My pleasure," he said, his hopes deflated, his smile a mask. He looked on as April walked away. She was gorgeous. If only...
If only what, he asked himself. He wasn't around at the right time. Whenever that time might have been.
When he got a look at April's friend, he no longer felt so glum. The friend was not a guy, but a girl. Just a friend after all.
The word "groovy" fit her friend well: green eyes, oval face and straight, streaky blonde hair; and a curvaceous, tall body filling out a bright red bikini. She could have walked out of a 1970s Playboy pictorial. He wasn't able to properly appreciate those women in their prime (he was busy being born), but always looked back fondly on the older magazines his friend's father had archived in the shed.
"John, this is Kira," April said, and John hopped up to be introduced.
"Picking up guys already?" Kira said, smirking.
"No, no, just chatting," April said.
John thought Kira had the better idea.
"You're here for a few days, John?"
"Maybe we'll see you around."
"Sure." He hoped he didn't sound too eager about such a prospect. Meeting women seemed like such a chess game sometimes.
"Bye," April said. They walked over to a pair of lounge chairs twenty feet away. Not very far, but far enough.
I should have gotten April's number while I had the chance, John thought as he watched them set up their chairs and towels. I can't keep letting these opportunities slip by.
Realizing he shouldn't be caught staring, he returned to his book, yet found himself unable to finish more than a few sentences between peeks at the girls.
Kira lay on her stomach, head turned away from him. April, seated alongside, untied Kira's top and gathered her long hair toward his side, off her shoulders. She uncapped a tube of sunscreen and efficiently rubbed it into the blonde girl's bare back.
None of this was overtly sexual; it seemed unlikely the girls were about to start making out. With Kira's arms in the way, John couldn't even see anything revealed by her untied top. Still, she was enchanting to look at, and the scene suggested things his imagination was eager to run away with. He gazed at her bare legs and back, separated by a narrow swath of red covering the swells of her bottom.
Nothing against Kira, but he wished they would switch places, with April ditching her top.
They stayed that way for a while, Kira prone and April seated, chatting in voices just too low for him to distinguish their words. John returned to his book.
He finished about two pages when Kira said something he could make out: "Not now, he'll see!". Keeping the book open and his face forward, he quickly glanced over.
April knelt at the foot of the lounge, hands on Kira's bikini bottom, as if to peel it off. That snapshot would have to do for a while, because April had turned to look at him. He stared back intently at his book, after a while deciding it would be a good idea to turn a page.
"He's just reading," April said.
Kira said something too softly to make out, and then he heard nothing for a while. He chanced a sideways peek in their direction; they were still whispering about something. He forced himself to read an entire page, word by word, before peeking again.
Kira's bikini bottom was off.
She still lay prone, her pesky arms in the way, her best charms still hidden, but now there was a heavenly expanse of bare skin soaking up the sun. Her ass was magnificent. The shift in his day from ten minutes ago was dramatic: he was now twenty feet from a beautiful naked woman. Neither of them faced him at the moment, so he considered the risk low enough to take a longer look, a full second. Having gotten comfortable like this, would Kira later have the nerve to turn over? Maybe take a skinny dip? Even better, would April follow her lead?
John was staring at her, savoring these possibilities, feeling his dick get pleasingly hard, when April looked his way and met his gaze. Caught.
"I think we're distracting him," she told Kira.
Kira twisted to her left, back facing him, and peered over her shoulder. He attempted a nonchalant expression, as if he had just noticed her there, in the direction he happened to be randomly looking. She scowled; she wasn't buying it. She sat up, facing away, covering her breasts with her hands to prevent any accidental side view. He did get a great look at her butt, which she was unable to conceal.
"I'll talk to him," said April, and stood up. Kira picked up her bikini bottoms and pulled them up, lifting her butt momentarily off the lounge cushion to finish the job. It looked like the show was over.
"Hey John," April said, walking over. "Are we bothering you? Making a scene? I know you wanted some peace and quiet." She wasn't smiling. John felt as if he had peeked at something he wasn't supposed to.
"No, that's OK. No problem." He realized he had a visible erection and tried to inconspicuously tent his opened book over it.
Kira walked over to join them. She hadn't put her top back on, but simply held the cups over her breasts. Red straps dangled down like chow mein noodles.
"Kira, we should move," April said.
"No, no, don't. You're not bothering me at all."
"No, not 'bothering'," Kira said, with a smirk. She deftly repositioned her hands so that one arm covered her breasts, while with the other she plucked the book off his lap. Her bikini top fell to the deck; she ignored it.
"John," she said, shaking her head. "We've got a peeping tom here."
He saw little alternative than to admit the truth. "Well, you are quite an attractive woman."
"It gets annoying sometimes; it seems I can't lay out anywhere without men staring at my body."
He shrugged. With her looks, what did she expect? "I'm sorry. I certainly didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable."
"I suppose you couldn't resist. Too much of a temptation." She cupped her chin for a moment, and said: "Is it too much of a tease, having a woman nearby wearing almost nothing, but still unattainable?"
Unattainability he'd had too much experience with. He considered her question carefully, like a martial artist sizing up an opponent. "Nope. I don't mind. You just appreciate from afar."
"You really don't mind being teased? 'Cause I like teasing men." She smiled lasciviously.
John felt himself grow harder, pressing against his trunks. "No, I do not mind." The tone had changed again. He glanced around: only the three of them were there.
"Okay," she said, and lowered her arm.
His eyes widened at the sight of her bare breasts, not too big, a perfect fit for his hands, he was sure of that. She reached down to touch him through the swim trunks, taking the tip of his penis between her thumb and fingers. "You're kind of hard now," she said. "I think I can make you get harder. Do you?"
He had the same answer he did for his friend back in Vermont, at the top of a black diamond ski run: do you think you can do this? "Let's find out."
"Lift up a bit," she said, grabbing the waistband of his trunks. She meant to take them off. He had second thoughts about that; it would put him at a significant disadvantage. She might take them and run away, all pretense gone. This could all be a nasty practical joke.
His instinct told him otherwise: that she was sincere, that this was a rare impulse for her, and it was best not to jinx anything. Whatever she wanted to do, he would go along with. He let her slide his trunks off and toss them aside. "Not bad," she said of his freed penis, which bobbed straighter and higher. She took it gently in her fingers. The sensation made him shiver.
"Don't move," she warned, her fingertips stroking him gently along his shaft. "You can't touch me, or do anything, unless I make you do it. I can do anything I want. No matter how much it kills you to stay still, you have to."
"Uh huh." He tried to force himself to relax.
"Now the whole thing about the tease," she said, "is that you can't come. As soon as you come, the tease is over. You have to get dressed and leave. OK?"
He hadn't thought this all the way through. Would she make him come? Did he want that? "Y-yeah, that's OK."
"It's up to you to make it last as long as possible." She glanced at his boner, which throbbed in her delicate grip. "And also, if you're about to come, you have to give me warning. I don't want to get a drop on me. Can you do that?"
"Sure, sure." It felt like a campaign promise.
"Good. Because if you come on me, even one drop, we're taking your swim trunks and your room key. You'll have to find your own way back to your room."
He shook his head. The stakes were very high. Her terms were punitive and imbalanced. "But, ah... if I don't? What's in it for me?"
She grinned. "Nothing. You're being teased. And you have to try not to enjoy it."
"And even if you give me warning, I probably won't stop what I'm doing, and I'll make you come on me. Then you're on your own."
"That's foul play!"
"I never said I was fair."
He realized he was probably doomed, yet it was too late to back out. Even if he did, for the rest of his life he would wonder what would have happened had he not chickened out. So he stayed in.
"Spread your legs," she said, forcing them apart. She knelt between them and leaned forward. What is she going to do? John wondered. The uncertainty, the ceding of control to a woman he had only known for a few minutes, filled him with dread.
"Don't move," Kira said. Taking the shaft between thumb and fingers, she guided the head of his penis along the contours of her breasts. John sighed. "Don't you dare come on my tits," she warned, as she flicked an erect nipple with the head. "I know you're thinking about it. You can probably even see it in your head. I know you want to." He was doing his best to hold back.
With her other hand, she caressed his scrotum. That was another sensation he wasn't sure if he could endure. "That's really tight," she said. "All shrunk. I think you're about to go off."
"N-not yet," he said, clenching his teeth, defiant.
She stood up and bent over him, jiggling her buoyant breasts above his face. "Just imagine if I really liked you, John. These would be yours. All my body would be yours. You could do anything you wanted. Do you want me?"
"I... I'm OK."
"Tell the truth," she warned.
"Hell yes I want you."
"Too bad," she said, standing up. She stared at him for a while, and he wondered if he had already passed the test. Maybe Kira had taken this as far as she was willing to. April looked at him, at his rigid dick, and at Kira.
Kira sighed and peeled off her bikini bottoms.
John shuddered. Kira was nude and looked fabulous. Just a thin landing strip of pubic hair above a pussy that looked already wet. He saw her lips, her clit, and he hungered for her. He knew he wouldn't last much longer.
"A better reminder of what you won't get," she said. "In fact..."
She straddled him. "Do NOT move," she said. Cautiously, she lowered her pelvis down just enough so that she could guide the tip of his dick to touch her pussy lips, but not slip inside. She pushed the tip back and forth, just a fraction of an inch, as if carefully erasing a single penciled letter. "Just imagine, being all the way inside," she said. She was so slick, and so warm, that he feared his senses would start to overload, and his control would be gone. His hips flexed, without him willing to, and he would have gone inside her had she not been quicker. She raised her hips, as if preparing to pounce, and the head of his dick felt the open air again. "I said don't move, John. One more of that and you lose."
She lowered herself back onto him, just enough for his organ to touch hers. It was unfair; she had stacked everything in her favor. He was close, very close, to blasting her with come. He could almost see this happening. That would get him into serious trouble. Every muscle in his body seemed to flex, pitching in to help prevent this.
Maybe a minute passed by, maybe five; he couldn't tell. But it gradually became apparent they were at a standoff. Kira had run out of weapons; there was nothing occurring to her to do further, short of an actual sex act. Unbelievably, John had survived. She stood up, shaking her head. "You've got some good self-control there, chum."
"What do I win?" he said.
"You go to round two." Kira was forcing herself to be a good sport, but he could tell she was irked.
"Let me try," said April. She took off her top, revealing absolutely luscious breasts, clean dark nipples on flawless skin. That's what he had wanted to see. His dick surged with new life.
Kira smirked. "Now we know. I'm from the wrong part of the world. You've been holding out on us, John. I didn't know you had another inch in you."
April knelt, and tongued the tip of his dick. "Now John, if you can manage not to come, then you can have me for the rest of the day. Kira too."
"What??" Kira said. "No, no, no. You can't just-"
The thought of being with them both made his head swim. "What, um, how long do I have to go?"
"Until I give up," April said.
"I did not agree to this!" Kira said.
"How about... if you come first, then you give up, and I win?" John said.
"You won't win."
"Then it's a bet?"
"You won't win. It can't happen."
"Then let's make a bet. First one to come loses."
"Okay. But you can't move, you can't do anything unless I tell you."
She took just the head of his dick in her mouth, moistening it with her tongue. "You're so hard, John. You're about to blow. I can feel it."
"I can hold for a long time..."
John expected April to go through the same routine as Kira, counting on his preference for her type to help push him over the top. But April didn't wait as long as Kira to go nuclear. She stripped her shorts and bikini bottoms, revealing barely there pubic hair and a hornet tattoo.
How lucky am I, John marveled. Holy fucking shit. She's perfect. No matter what else happens, this is the day I saw April naked. Even if he never saw her again, she would star in his fantasies forever.
She straddled him like Kira had done before, letting only his tip brush against her pussy lips. "You like this, John?"
He nodded. It was taking all his willpower and concentration to hold out, and talking had become an unwise use of resources. Would it make more sense to think of something else, and move his mind away; or was it more paramount to pay strict attention?
Unfortunately, she decided to give him something to do: "You can touch them." He knew it would be best to keep his hands at his sides; but he reached up, exploring her breasts tentatively at first, tracing their curves with fingertips, drawing circles around her small dark areolae and swelling nipples. Then he took them in his hands, savoring their softness, their weight. He started observing her response, finding out what she liked.