The kitchen in this Ponsonby house has featured in home magazines before, but no one at this party is commenting on the architecture because we’re too busy dancing. Someone is playing a mix of bhangra, old hip hop and M.I.A, and we’re waving our hands in the air like we just don’t care. It’s hot, sweaty and noisy, which is just the way we want it to be. The pill I swallowed happily before has started to work its magic on me and I’m in love with every one of the friends and strangers around me.
But it’s hot, sweat dripping off me, so I duck out to the balcony to get some fresh air. That’s where I spot beneath me the pool, glittering with the combination of moon and the cabana spot lights. I need to be in that water right now. Need it. Right now. So I push through the people milling around on the balcony, trot down the deck stairs, unhook the childproof fence with a little bit of a struggle. The champagne doesn’t make mechanics much easier.
Now standing by the pool, I’m suddenly aware that there is a whole balcony full of people, and I don’t have my togs, but the water is beckoning and the urge is too strong to stop me. I step into the shadows and peel off my shirt and skirt, and, pausing for a second to think it through, my bra and panties. I consider the depth, and dive in.
I have never felt anything like this before. The total body immersion, the water kissing my skin, the instant cooling – I feel like I could stay underwater forever. But of course I can’t, my body floats to the surface before I am ready. I gasp in the night air, twisting onto my back. I can see my nipples stiffening with the chill, and the water swirling around my cunt seems playful. When I pull my head out of the water, switching into doggy-paddling, I suddenly realise that I have an audience. There is a round of applause from the balcony. A whole line of people are watching me. Giggling, I wave, and flip, diving down into a handstand. I might as well give them a show. The feeling of water rushing past me is incredible, so I swim as far as I can underwater, and then languidly swim a couple of lengths. I have cooled down now, and in fact, I’m getting a little bit cold. I hear the sound of the gate lifting, and surfacing again, I realise there is now a man standing beside the pool, holding out a towel.
“I thought you might want this,” he says, smiling. I’ve seen him before, I think he is friends of the host’s brother. He’s cute, and I am cold, so I smile back, and swim to the pool ladder, and clamber out doing my best Wild Things impression. I stand up tall like it ain’t no thing to be standing there naked, and reach for the towel. He steps forward and wraps it around me. “There you are, Ma’am,” he says. “Wow, full service,” I reply, “are you going to wash my back for me now too?” “Sure,” he says, eagerly, so I decide to call his bluff, and walk to the cabana.
The bathroom here is like the ones in the house, ludicrously expensive, marble everywhere and no doubt it’s Italian tapware. I feel a little ridiculous leaning into the shower as I flip on the tap and water springs from two heads, but I drop my towel and climb in anyway. He is close behind me, undressing himself at a leisurely pace. The warm water gushes down on me, and I am overwhelmed with sensations again, the pill I took still working its magic. I shut my eyes to tilt my face into the water, and I hear him step into the shower behind me.
He is standing so close that I can hear his breath over the roar of the non-efficient water flow, and despite the heat and steam, my skin goosebumps in anticipation. He reaches around me to grab the shower gel, and starts to lather up my shoulders. His hands are soft and smooth, and he runs them slowly down my arms, I can feel my spine unclenching at his touch. The sponge travels around in circles, meandering around my back, dipping down to just above my ass, grazing the sides of my breasts. He leans down to gently soap up my ankles, my knees, my thighs, so slowly, so delicately, time is standing still. He washes every inch of my legs, and straightens up to cover my back again, stroking harder this time, the intensity growing. I feel like I’m going to faint so I put my arms out to lean against the shower wall. He takes this as his invitation to run his hands around and cup my breasts, and I arch my back with pleasure, moaning softly.
His fingers swirl around my nipples, and I feel his tongue kiss the back of my neck. His body is up against mine now, and I feel his cock growing hard. I try to turn around to touch it, to touch him, but he moves my hand back onto the wall. “It’s not your turn yet,” he laughs in my ear. His left hand grabs my breast harder, while his right slides down across my stomach, parting my legs, and pushing against my slit. I gasp as he runs a finger around my clit, and push back against his body. “I haven’t cleaned all of you yet,” he says, unhooking the hand shower, and turning me around to face him. Kneeling down, he kisses my labia, pushing them open with his tongue. As I clutch at the walls and at his head to steady myself, he begins to lap at me, tongue flicking backwards and forwards, side to side. The water falling across my face sparkles like diamonds, and I feel like fairies are running away with parts of my body. The light in the bathroom gets brighter and brighter as he works his tongue around, my breath is coming in big half gasps, and then it’s like an explosion of sensation and light, and water, and air.
When I’m finally able to float back down and open my eyes again, he’s standing face to face with me. “I’m going to kiss you now” he says, eagerly, and I open my mouth to him. But it’s a trick, because as soon as our mouths are locked together, lips melting into lips, he takes the shower jet and aims it at my freshly tongue-fucked pussy, The pulsating jet is too much for my lucky vulnerable clitoris to handle, and I collapse in another orgasm, moaning much much louder this time. He’s there to catch me this time, and we cling together. He takes my hand down to his cock. and I stroke him to a climax while his fingers rub between my legs again, hoping for three strikes in a row. This last orgasm is less intense but knowing that we came together staring into each other’s eyes made it all the more satisfying. We stay in the shower until we notice our skin getting pruney, dry each other off, and get dressed. When we step outside the cabana, we’re treated to another round of applause. I think he deserved it all.