Amy's pool party

When I was dating the man who would become my husband, I lived in an unusual apartment complex. It was supposed to be a resort-style complex and had fake palm trees and pools everywhere. Of course, that was 30 years ago when it was first built; since then, it had declined considerably. Several of the smaller pools had actually been closed, and most people gathered at one of the two huge pools in the center of the complex.

Although a bit run-down, it was affordable, and between my building and the next was one of the smaller pools. It was rarely used, I liked it because it was very private and I was almost always alone.

A sign said it closed at sunset, and sometimes (usually on weekends, rarely on weekdays) the maintenance guy would come to lock the gate with a key. What most people didn’t realize, however, was that if you walked through the locked storage room at the end of my building and came out the back, there was a smaller gate that led to the same pool area. This was the entrance I usually used, and it was never locked.

I mention this because I used to have very pleasant moments in that pool. An hour after dusk, around 9 p.m., I would slip in for a nighttime swim. Several people did this on weekends, but I was almost always the only one there on weekdays.

The pool lights didn’t work at all, and there was only one light that still worked in the patio area near the main entrance, so it was possible to swim with relative privacy—especially because the pool was built on a hillside above the parking lot area, and there were no windows on the ends of any of the buildings.

Forgive me if I digress, but the point is that there was a lot of privacy after dark. Now, most of you ladies have probably deduced where this is going. Yes, indeed, there was a nice spot near the bottom (which was only six feet deep) where a powerful jet pulsed.

I would let myself float over to the jet and move the crotch of my one-piece swimsuit aside. That wonderful jet would lash my clitoris—oh, heavenly! I often slid my top down a bit, letting my breasts float free. I loved playing with them or sucking on them during masturbation. And let me assure you, I always had a powerful orgasm from that happy little jet!

I was only caught once in all the times I did it. I had just finished and was floating gently toward the surface when I heard the gate creak. I looked up and saw another lady coming in. I had seen her before but didn’t know her name. She was a mature woman in her sixties, with a voluptuous body. She wore a dark swimsuit and slipped smoothly into the water.

She apologized for disturbing me.

"That’s okay, I was already finished."

"I know," she said. "I waited for you to finish before coming in."

I guess I must have turned red as a beet from embarrassment, because before I could say anything, she said: "Oh, don’t worry, dear. Besides, I’m here for the same reason."

"Well then…" I stumbled over my words. "I, uh, I guess I’ll leave you alone."

"Do what you want," she said, floating toward the jet. "You don’t have to leave on my account."

I watched as she extended her legs in front of the jet, and I had no doubts about what she was doing.

I thought about staying but decided not to find out how far she wanted to go, so I chickened out and got out of the water. I really didn’t want to bother her, but my keys and towel were on the chair near the jet, so I had to pass right by her to pick them up.

"Good night," she moaned to me.

After gathering my things, I stopped beside her and looked down. Although I couldn’t see much, I could make out her breasts floating free. "Have fun!" I encouraged her, not that she needed more.

"I am… uuuuh, I am," she replied.

I left her in peace and went back to my place.

I have to confess, I got pretty brazen one night. My fiancé had to work a Sunday night—some kind of computing project—so he came to see me for lunch, and for dessert, he made passionate love to me for about three hours. I was so satisfied that I fell asleep, naked and happy.

It really must have exhausted me; I didn’t wake up until early in the morning. I’ll never forget it—it was 3:33 a.m. I had slept almost 11 hours! I was also naked and burning with desire. You’d think my earlier session would have satisfied me, but it only made me want more. I tried masturbating for a while but couldn’t achieve that really big orgasm I wanted. Finally, I decided there was only one remedy. It was time for a pool party.

I used to go through a lot of swimsuits. Moving the crotch aside so much eventually wore out the elastic until it could no longer cover my slit—fine in the pool, not so fine walking through the storage room past the flirty older gentleman who lived downstairs.

I had just bought a brand-new swimsuit, a black one-piece. I didn’t bother with the shoulder straps; I knew I’d want my breasts free after getting in the water. I grabbed a towel, and as quietly as my bare feet would allow, I headed to the pool.

I tossed my towel on a nearby chair. I couldn’t help but notice that even the one light that usually worked was off, leaving the pool very dark and private. As I descended the pool steps into the water, one of my breasts slipped free of the suit. Oh well, it would be free soon anyway, so I left it.

I headed for my friend the jet and moved the snug crotch of my suit aside. I let my other nipple float free, pushing the suit down around my waist. I enjoyed floating there, but the brand-new elastic of my suit kept causing the panel to fall back over my hairy slit, cutting off the water vibrator.

After having to move it aside repeatedly, I got very frustrated. I had so much desire at this point that I no longer cared. I crouched down and took off the suit, kicking it away in the dark water. I returned to my jet and held my outer lips very wide open, allowing the water to lash my clitoris. FUCK, it was incredible!

I felt so brazen, completely naked in the water like that. I had a massive orgasm, which went on and on. When I finally couldn’t take any more, I moved away, floating free. I let myself calm down, and then floated back to the jet. This time, however, I held my fleshy ass against it. The water ran over my anus, passed under me, then bubbled over my slit. It tickled a little as my pubic hair swirled around, but it also made me numb.

I decided one more was needed and turned so the water could once again lash right at my clitoris. I played with my free-floating breasts, pinching and sucking them while the water slowly built my orgasm. Since my ass was still tingling, I reached back and lightly rubbed a finger over my anus. That light touch was enough to set me off; my slit exploded with one of the biggest orgasms of my life.

I floated in the water, savoring the afterglow and the erotic sensation of being naked. After a few minutes, however, I decided I should probably leave and spent a good ten minutes searching for my black suit in the dark water. I finally found it, but by that point, I decided it was too much effort to try to put it back on.

Feeling quite brazen, I got out of the water and grabbed my towel. Holding it in one hand and my suit in the other, I walked out of the pool area and back upstairs completely naked. I admit I had to force myself not to run, but I felt so… erotic in that situation—knowing anyone could see me if they came out at just the right moment.

I made it without incident, or at least as far as I know, I wasn’t seen. By this point it was almost time for me to get up, so I took a relaxing shower and soon headed off to work. But all I thought about all day was my private pool party.