Always waiting... and wanting. I gasp and let out a sharp cry as I feel the first touch of something, more shock than pain. My mind processes the fe...ling, the sensation, and I realize it is a light touch, feathery, sleek. It could, indeed, be a feather... or fringe of a blanket... perhaps his hair. I can only imagine, not determine, as the touches and teases continue. The feathery feeling is gone now, replaced with something cold and wet... an ice cube? a popscicle? his fingers, dipped. One was in her late 20´s the other although not looking it her early 40´s who told me she was hoping to learn to swim before leaving for England. She only had 6 more days holiday and we soon ended up with me helping her every morning and evening if i wasn´t working. The second day i noticed the bikini had got a little smaller and could have swarn i had seen it on her friend a couple of days ago. Still i didn´t really take too much notice. the next day when we got in the pool it was still early. More

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