Free Bathing Beauty by Andrea Dale Page A

elaborate headdresses were made of.
It was the show that counted.
    Plus there’d be synchronized swimming. And
proper bathing caps or no, that had to count for something. It was
an Esther Williams fan’s dream come true.
    When Paul woke on his birthday morning, I
greeted him with a kiss, cappuccino, a bagel with cream cheese and
lox, and a card that told him he was going to have a special
day.
    Lunch was a lovely meal at a prime seafood
restaurant at the shore, and then we were off to the show.
    Paul had a mix of mild confusion and
burgeoning lust on his face when he realized what we were about to
see. I snuggled up against him and breathed into his ear, “This is
your special day, honey. Enjoy.”
    He enjoyed, all right. More than once I saw
him adjust himself, and for a while even lay his program over his
lap to ensure innocent bystanders weren’t treated to an eyeful. I
was tempted to bring him off right there at the show, but the
bleachers weren’t exactly set up for any modicum of privacy, and it
would kind of spoil the occasion to get arrested for public
indecency.
    I had other, better plans.
    In the parking lot, he backed me up against
the car and kissed me, his tongue darting into my mouth in a way
that makes me think only of how that would feel on my clit (and I
always knew that pleasure would be forthcoming). He pressed his
hips against mine, and I felt the outline of his hard cock against
my mound.
    “ Thank you, sweetheart,” he
said when we broke for air. “That was special.”
    “ Oh, we’re not through
yet,” I said, unable to keep the teasing glee from my voice. “This
was just…foreplay.”
    I swear I felt his cock twitch against me.
We decided I should be the one to drive home, just to be safe.
    *
    It wasn’t long before I had Paul naked and
stretched out on our bed, his cock at half mast, pulsing towards
full erection as he imagined what erotic surprises I might have in
store for him.
    He'd been a competitive swimmer in high
school and college, and had the body for it: long and lean with
sleek, seal-like muscles; broad shoulders and narrow hips; and
mostly hairless, so he hadn't had to shave his chest and legs like
some of his teammates. Indeed, I'd always been hot for the way he
looked in a Speedo, the shiny Lycra outlining the taut dimples in
his hips and the heavy soft package of his penis and balls cupped
in the front.
    I didn’t think I had a rubber fetish myself,
but I found myself wondering how his groin would look encased in
rubber. Deep royal blue, to bring out his eyes.
    As if I’d be looking at his eyes.
    We’d played with cock rings before—simple
leather adjustable ones—so I figured a slightly stretchy rubber one
wouldn’t be too much of a step up. I rolled it down Paul’s cock,
gently tucked it behind his balls. Now he was fully hard, his cock
like velvet-covered steel in my hands.
    He reached for me, nuzzling my breasts
before grazing his teeth across my nipples, just the way I like it.
I’d been wet all day, really, just imagining how this would go, and
now a fresh wave of desire shimmered through me, from nipples to
clit. I wanted more.
    That’s when I pulled out the bathing
cap.
    Yep, I’d found one of those old rubber ones,
It wasn’t lime green, unfortunately, but white, with a couple of
red and blue flowers on one side that gave it the look of a cloche
hat from the 1920s.
    Paul sucked in his breath when he saw it.
With a deliberately lewd grin, I sprawled back on the bed and
stretched it across my pussy. “Dive in,” I suggested.
    He didn’t need further encouragement. He
rarely did, but this time he was like a man possessed, breathing in
the rubbery smell as he found my clit.
    It wasn’t long before I needed more, though.
The material was just too thick for me to get full sensation—and I
needed it right now. I pulled the cap away, and he paused, just for
a moment, to turn it over and run his tongue along the side that
had been against me, tasting my