by Lord Malinov
I saw Ellie Denby a half-dozen times before I realized who she was. I knew her as Brad’s sister, and that was seven years ago when Ellie was probably fourteen, still just a girl. She was a different person back then. My vague memories of her as a teenager bore only a superficial resemblance to the here and present young woman. I don’t know that I ever would have made the connection, if Sarah, the club’s manager, hadn’t called her “the Denby girl.”
As one who knows, I can say that Ellie radiates with charm, her presence bursting with the excited blush of living and the swells of fertility. I noticed her at once when I saw her. I’m a few years older than Ellie. Brad and I were probably her age, last time I saw her. I’m married. I have been for four years.
I manage the hardware at the Lake Charles Athletic Cub. We serve the whole Bridgetown area. The members pay for it, Sarah does the book work and I flip the switches, move the cycles and fix the machines. It’s a living. I had to get a serious job, and this seemed like a good compromise. It pays enough. Becky doesn’t mind.
Ellie came by early in the morning. The board insists we open at six, and so we do. We rarely have anyone in before eight. The first time I saw Ellie, recently, I mean, I had just started flipping the light switches. First thing in the morning and a beautiful girl walks by. She opened the locker room door. I hadn’t made it to that switch yet. Ellie looked back and smiled patiently. My heart skipped a beat. She really is very pretty. I fumbled as I hurriedly flicked on her lights.
I’d seen her a few mornings before Sarah told me her name. I passed Ellie coming up the stairs. Her blue eyes sparkled as she softly mouthed a good morning, just enough to be polite. Ellie had always been quiet. Sarah met me at the top of the stairs with a bill to sign.
“Regular,” I said, turning back to watch Ellie’s legs disappear from view.
“Back from school,” Sarah said.
“Well, she’s pretty much got a private health club.”
“Helps justify our being here this early,” said Sarah. I couldn’t tell if she thought this was a good thing or a bad thing. “The Denby girl has really grown up.”
The name echoed in my mind for a minute, jarred out of place unexpectedly, but in half a beat I realized the young woman I had just passed, filling out her white shorts and tank-top distractingly, had been little Ellie Denby. I remember thinking, when she was Brad’s kid sister, that she had a cute butt. The curve had only gotten better.
“I knew her when she was a kid. Brad Denby’s kid sister. Ellie or something.” I blushed as I rushed to explain.
“Eleanor Denby,” said Sarah cool;y. With a flip of her brown-grey hair, she slipped back to her office, growing a little flustered, I thought.
Ellie came in every morning, just after I opened the doors. About a week after she showed up, I accidentally discovered her exercise routine.
One of the bleachers had come loose from the bracket on the south wall. It wasn’t anything dangerous, but people get nervous sixty feet in the air and so first thing the next morning, I crawled up into the lattice of the bleachers to tighten some bolts.
Over past the east end of the bleachers is a hot tub. Seats eight. Good piece of equipment. I’ve often spent twenty minutes in the boiler after work to relax. It just melts the tension away.
So, I stood in a maze of crossbars, turning a socket wrench with a steady cricket buzz. The bleachers are high. I was looking out the end and into the hot tub, my feet perched on thin metal bars.. Ellie came out of the locker room door. She a blue bikini and she wore it well. Women don’t usually wear two-piece suits at an athletic pool. She quickly glided over the damp concrete and slipped into the steaming cauldron. Her breasts had flourished from the bare wisps of bosom I recalled on little Ellie. Her chest grew flush as the heat poured through her. I slipped my wrench into my pocket, held on tight and held my breath, watching this pretty Diana bathe.
Looking down, I could see her long legs shimmering under the steamy surface. Ellie turned on the jets and the froth obscured my view. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the edge. She might have seen me if she looked. I saw a glimpse of Brad’s mom in her face. I always thought he had a pretty mom. I started to reach for my wrench and get back to the bolts when Ellie tossed her bikini bottoms onto the edge. I leaned forward and the lattice-work creaked. Ellie sat up and looked around, right and left but never up. I kept still. Ellie turned and I thought she was going to get out. Her bathing suit was still folded over the edge of the pool. She pressed her knees against the wall and lifted her pussy out of the primordial soup.
Ellie had always been blonde, and a triangle of pale matted hair rose from the water and into my lecherous sight. Ellie rubbed her furrow with an eager finger and spread her knees apart. As her hand came away, I caught a view of her swollen red lips. Ellie leaned back and pushed her clit into the water jet stream. A moan poured from her body.
I’ve watched Becky masturbate with the detachable shower head, so I knew that moan well. Her eyes grow blank and she leans back against the tile and pushes the blast of water against her little bulge and the water pours between her lips to fall in an endless thick stream. In no time at all, she tosses her head from one side to the other and the moans start below her ankles, ripple through her calves and thighs, boom in her ass, take wind in her breast and groan with shudders of her clenching muscles.
Ellie teased the waterspout, swaying her hips while a rush of bubbles spurted from the point of contact between her thighs. My prick had swollen so hard that it hurt, wrapped up in my shorts. Holding onto the crossbeam with one arm, I tried to adjust my package. Swinging my hips slightly, I managed to escape the pinch and indulge my senses the hungry throb of my stiff prick. I reached for my zipper to share Ellie’s erotic moment but a shudder in the bleachers stayed my hand. Getting caught with my pants down would be serious trouble. I let my tongue hang out while I teased my aching bulge through my nylon shorts. I suppose I might as well have taken my dick out. I doubt I could have looked any more perverted.
Ellie focused the jet onto her gleaming clit with a tiny circle of her hips. Her body grew flush, creamy jutting shoulders and a pale white belly. A hand dashed up to free her right tit from the blue top and Ellie squeezed her tight brown nipple hard. The ripples shuddered from her breast down into her ass and as she thrust her pussy against the stream, Eleanor Denby, twenty-year old coed, wailed a noisy orgasm which echoed endlessly over the pool.
Laying across the tub, Ellie reached over to turn off the jets. As the water calmed, her pink pussy, still spread and seemingly subdued, thoughtlessly invited a lecherous glimpse of paradise. Ellie picked up her bikini bottoms and slipped them on underwater. She pushed her heavy breast back into her bathing suit and Ellie dashed back to the locker room.
I stood in shock for several minutes. Finally persuaded that there would be no second feature, I climbed down from the supports. I walked over to the tub and dipped my hand in the steaming water. She had been magnificent.
I unzipped my shorts and pulled my hard prick free, jerking it suddenly the moment I had a grip, pounding my fist down my dick as the memory of Ellie’s bath played itself in a loop, once per stroke. It had been the most erotic thing I had ever seen. As I held the soft image of her drowsy pussy in my mind, a spent a fountain of delight into the hot water. It was due to be cleaned anyway.
Some orgasms drain me of all my strength and I drift quickly into unconsciousness. Other orgasms are just the beginning, the whistle on a boiling kettle. I never stopped being hard that day.
As I drove home that day, I didn’t feel any guilt. The incident had been an accident, which I just happened to benefit from. It wasn’t my fault if a pretty girl masturbated in a hot tub forty feet below where I was working. Besides, I was still too horny to feel any guilt. I went home looking for Becky.
We’d always had lots of sex. Sometimes it was on again and then off again, but we always stayed in touch. I love Becky and I love the way she fucks me. My prick was still swollen and Becky looked good, better than I remembered her looking. She has a delicious ripe ass. I made love to her that night, for a long time. Becky dripped. When I finally relinquished the lust pent up inside me, Becky quivered constantly. I slept like a child.
Sarah watched me push open the door to the pool area the next morning, just after Ellie arrived. I could feel her eyes watching me, knowing I was going a way I didn’t usually go.
I lay in the bleachers, my head peaking past the edge.. I felt much safer, but I still couldn’t play with myself when Ellie screwed the fountain. It doesn’t take Ellie any time at all to let out her final squeals. My dick throbbed. I let the madness surge through me. I didn’t jerk off. I felt like that would make it wrong. I flirted with Sarah after Ellie left. She blushed when I teased her. Sarah’s really cute for an older woman.
When I came home, Becky wasn’t around. After grabbing a cookie in the kitchen, I went upstairs. I heard the shower running. Becky stood behind the rippling glass with the head of the shower pressed into her folds. She moaned pleasurably. I watched as she took a steady pose, as her nipples twinkling behind the translucent glass. I pushed down my shorts and slipped open the shower door. She looked up at me, her eyes burning with lust.
“C’mon, Becky, ” I said, fisting my prick, “show me how you come.” Becky murmured, almost in fear, and she pushed the stream hard against her little clit. I watched her pussy splash. Becky began to squeal, uncomfortably.
“Louder,” I said, snarling. Becky’s voice opened, shrieking her ecstasy as she tossed her head from side to side. Her long yellow hair clung to the tile. I watched her belly tremble. Becky sucked me off. I dribbled off her chin.
Bridgewater is a small town. I ran into Ellie and her parents at the Pizza Fling. I’ve known them a long time. With her parents, I could see the hints of that gangly girl I used to know. Ellie looked sweet and innocent, but with a glance I could see the fall of her breasts. I could hear the moan in every word she spoke. I envied the man who would pluck this rosebud. I knew it wouldn’t be me.
I mentioned seeing her at the club. Ellie blushed.
“Are you just back for the summer?” I asked.
“Middle of August,” said Ellie kindly. I could hear the moan in every syllable.
The next morning I watched Ellie back up to the water jet, her ass risen like twin moons from a boiling sea, her pussy spread and the dark wink of her asshole pulsating with the sensation. She clawed both breasts naked as she rocked back into the furious blast. I wished for the thousandth time that I could dare to bring a camera, but knew it would only cause serious trouble. I would take what I could get, even if it were only a daily show.
That night, I bent Becky over and fucked her ass. I remember every second of that intense ride. Becky came almost at once, with a mad howl of an orgasm which left her a drizzling mess as I pounded deep inside her luscious butt. Becky lurched away from my invasion and I spent my showers into her passion-wild lips.
I watched Ellie masturbate sixty times, every morning like clockwork. Eventually I grew daring and hid closer to the hot tub, down the bleachers. Choosing the right vantage point became an art and a science as I tried to optimize the erotic thrill. I longed for the day when she looked over at me and said, “Fuck me,” but Ellie never noticed me. I came to know her well as the weeks went by. I could tell by the quiver of her cheek that she was about to release. And as the orgasm poured through her, she would raise her pussy up out of the water and let my eyes pierce the dark cavern of her young womb. It was like clockwork, six minutes from intro to climax and we were both on our way. My cock invariably pointed to noon.
Becky stopped wearing panties. I couldn’t stop fucking her. All I could think about was watching my private peep-show and fucking my wife. Ellie’s wanton little cunt kept my engines roaring and Becky swallowed a river of come. I licked her pussy, almost in a daily ritual. I loved to take close glimpses of her pink lips, to taste Becky’s essence in the juice. I would pretend my tongue was a water jet and listen to Becky moan.
“Louder,” I’d snarl and my tongue would ravage her clit while Becky screamed out her ecstasy. Ellie screamed from deep inside. I liked that. Becky obliged my new taste, wailing wickedly.
Sarah watched me coming out of the pool door one morning. I knew at once that she knew something. She frowned in a disturbed way. I pretended not to notice. I felt like she was jealous of me.
Regardless, I lay in the bleachers the next morning. To fail to take my post was unthinkable. How could I deny myself this vision? Ellie whipped off her bikini bottoms before she got into the tub. She seemed to be in no particular hurry and rolled about, letting the streams of water tickle her. She pushed her bikini top aside as she floated hungrily toward a jet. Ellie lifted her bottom up and moaned. My prick shuddered and I incautiously unzipped my fly. Writhing gently, I managed to free my staff. Ellie lifted her pussy toward me as the fountain molested the nymph. I stroked my dick faintly. Ellie began to moan madly, feverishly, with all the power of her full breasted lungs. The bleachers began to creak ominously. I froze. Ellie continued to writhe ecstatically, sending erotic echoes bouncing from the great walls. I looked nervously down the length of the bleacher and I saw Sarah, peering at Ellie around the corner. Sarah scurried away as Ellie rose out of the tub. She grinned with satisfaction as the water poured down her body.
I stopped to talk with Sarah later. She still seemed nervous. I wondered if she was going to say anything. She just blushed.
One day Ellie stopped coming. It was the middle of August. I assumed that school came back.
I added checking the bleachers to my morning routine. One morning, about three days after Ellie stopped coming, I caught Sarah riding the watery spume. She stripped off her bathing suit and pushed her little pussy into the froth. I stood gawking, and the lattice work shifted with a long creak. Sarah looked hazily toward me and smiled big. Fierce ripples teased her soft tummy and Sarah moaned aloud.
I went home and fucked Becky wild, tore her panties and took it from her with every slice of pleasure I could discover through her wicked style. Becky truly knows how to fuck me crazy. She knows how to scream when she comes. I poured my adoration into her fertile womb.
I brought Becky into the club with me, one morning when Sarah had taken a day off. She changed into her bathing suit and I showed her the hot tub. Becky stripped off her suit in a flash and turned on the jets. Water splashed my face as I watched the stream’s precise assault on Becky’s little clit, watched the shudders, heard the moans. I pushed down my shorts and climbed in the hot tub, dangling my hard cock in Becky’s face. She sucked my prick deeply as the moans poured through her. I came in spurts over her heated face.
“Fuck me,” she said. I obliged.
Sarah says were making enough money to stay open, but not enough for a raise. I’ll work another season. Fringe benefits are worth something.