My First Time

An Itsy-Bitsy, Teenie-Weenie

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An Itsy-Bitsy, Teenie-Weenie
Too small a swimsuit?

Based on a post by Tarnished Penny. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



Brazen.

That was the word, Maeve thought, right out of some ancient

Greek story, like The Odyssey; a 'brazen' sky. She smiled a little, thinking
that her English teacher, Mrs. Pensey, would be pleased by her remembering.

Her smile didn't last too long, for this sky was

beyond hot. It lay like a low, searing bronze lid over the town, the oven-like
temperatures scarcely relieved by the odd feeble twitch of stale, dusty breeze.
Air conditioners across the region wheezed in failing attempts to keep up. The
demand had become so high that the electrical system was struggling and
consumers had been warned of possible rolling service interruptions to avoid a
complete collapse. Records weren't being broken, not quite, but the last time
it had been this hot for this long had been almost a century ago. People moved
noticeably slower outside, speeding up as they neared buildings known to be
cool inside. There were reports of families sleeping overnight in their cars to
take advantage of vehicle air conditioners and the town council had activated
an emergency cooling plan for the poor and elderly, with cots being set up in
local gyms and arenas. Tempers were fraying and, after a couple of spectacular
brawls in parks and bars, the police had announced an increased presence on the
north-east end of town.

Maeve, wearing just panties, groaned in frustration as she

tried again to adjust the sweep of the fan sitting on the floor in front of
her. Irritatingly, the fan refused to be set to aim in just one direction; it
insisted on swinging back and forth, leaving her swaying from side to side in a
futile effort to stay in the cooler air stream. It wasn't that much of a fan in
any case; her parents had passed it to her when they got a larger one. Air
conditioning was not on the cards in this household.

Maeve lifted her heavy tits to cool the sweat-soaked crease

beneath them. The fan responded by dying altogether, its blades gradually
slowing to an infuriating halt. She reached for the switch, played with it,
moaning in frustration when it refused to so much as groan in apology.

Angrily, she stomped down the hall to her parents' bedroom.

Her mother was at work and her father out of town for the week on a freight run
to Florida; they could share for an hour.

As she entered the curtained bedroom, she flicked at the

light switch. The lights stayed off. She fiddled with the switch a couple of
times before realizing that the power must be out. She swore a most unladylike
oath, then doubled down when her phone down the hall started ringing.

"Maeve?" It was her BFF Tanya; "Have you got

power?"

"No such luck. It just went out."

"Damn it, girl, what are we going to do? I'm dying over

here."

"Cold showers?"

"Not funny."

"The mall?"

"I can see it from my place. Power's out there, too.

People are leaving and they're not letting anyone back in. How about the
Memorial Pool?"

"It'd be crowded." Maeve said, then paused.

"But, wait. They still have those spray coolers, right?"

"Did last week. And it's an adults-only timeslot. No

freaky kids screaming."

"Okay, then."

"You should wear that new bikini you bought," Tanya

giggled. "The yellow spotted one."

"You're kidding, right?" Maeve hadn't adjusted to

the thought of being seen in public wearing the abbreviated outfit.
"Anyway, I didn't buy it; you bought it for me on a dare."

"Which," Tanya snickered, "you didn't

refuse at the time."

"You never asked."

"Okay," Tanya said; and Maeve could hear

the grin over the phone; "I'm asking, daring, you now!"

She had Maeve hooked; and both girls knew it.

"So, um, what would you be wearing?" she dodged.

"Something appropriate." Tanya dodged back.

"Well," Okay," Maeve said. "I'm too hot

to argue. Pick me up in 15? Mom's taken the car to work."

"Can't. My brother took ours up to the hills to go

camping."

"That means walking like 12 blocks in this heat, Tanya."

"It's that or melt, Maeve. I'll see you there at 2,

sharp." Not giving Maeve time to reply, the girl hung up.

Maeve took the bikini out of her drawer, still in the store

bag. As she looked at the scraps of bright fabric in her hands, she felt a
stirring inside her, a sense of excitement, like a child stealing peaches from
a neighbor's orchard.

She peeled off her damp panties, letting them fall to the

floor. Tying the side ties of the G-string bottom, she slid it up her legs and
over her bottom. The triangle, while covering her sex completely, was no bigger
than her palm.

The ties, of course, covered nothing.

At least there isn't a camel-toe, she thought,

looking at herself in the mirror.

She tried the top on next. The small triangles of cloth just

barely covered her and her nipples were obvious despite the thin padding. She
put her hands under her tits and hefted them, adjusting the fit. Turning back
and forth in front of her mirror, she frowned and slipped out of the garment to
readjust a tie. Putting it back on, she turned back and forth, smiled wickedly
in spite of herself. Damn, but that looks hot!

Maeve considered a fashionable pair of sandals but

reconsidered when she realized how thin the soles were and opted for a pair of
sneakers. She slipped a thin, knee-length sundress over the bikini and found a
broad straw hat. Even so, by the time she reached the pool, her feet were
burning and she had perspired enough that she looked as if she had been dipped
in baby oil. Her small bag, containing little more than sun-screen, a towel and
a bottle of water, seemed to weigh a ton in the heat.

Finally, she reached the shady entranceway and pushed a bill

through the till at the cashier before moving through into the pool area. On
her way, she pulled her sun dress over her shoulders, feeling the hot sun on
her back and legs.

Only then did her problems really start. From inside the

office came a thin, annoyed voice.

"You can't wear that here! Put something on that's

respectable."

Emerging from his burrow was McGregor, the pool supervisor,

a gaunt, grey, sour man. Rumor had it that he'd once smiled at his mother, but
few believed it. His normally choleric disposition had not been improved by the
heat. As Maeve watched, a drop of sweat trickled off his forehead and oozed
down through his eyebrow. The girl watched its progress as it entered his right
eye. McGregor winced and rubbed it with a forefinger.

"You heard me," he said.

"What?" Maeve said, looking down at herself.

"Why not? Everything's covered, isn't it?"

"Look, missy, I run the pool for the town. One of my

jobs is to keep things orderly here. And I'm saying that swimsuit isn't
acceptable dress."

"So, you won't let me in wearing this? You won't let me

go swimming? In this heat?"

"No way." The old man shook his head.

"But I walked 12 blocks to get here!" the girl

wailed.

"Should've considered the dress code first."

"What dress code? The sign just talks about showering

and spitting."

"Common sense, young lady."

"Please?"

"No. Not with that suit on."

The frustration boiled out of Maeve. "Fine, then. You

won't let me in with it, then I'll go without it!"

The girl could hear Tanya giggle behind her, but was angry

enough to carry through with her threat. Given the nature of the suit, it took
only a couple of seconds to pull the ties and step clear of the falling cloth.

McGregor's eyes bulged in astonishment.

Maeve had never considered herself centerfold material, but

what she had, she now bared with flaming, righteous indignation. Covered in
perspiration and flushed with anger, she blazed like a Celtic warrior princess
before battle. She stomped her foot in anger, sending her tits bobbing in the
hot sun.

"Come on!" she shouted. "Throw me out

now!" She snatched up her suit from the ground and made as if to step
around the befuddled pool manager.

McGregor started to reach for her, then paused. Maeve could

almost read his mind; Wrestling a naked 18-year-old girl in public. Not a
good image. He jerked back his hand as if it had been burned.

"I'll have you thrown out!"

"By whom?"

McGregor paused for a second. "The lifeguards," he

said.

"Walter?" She chuckled and swiveled her head

around to look at the sunburned guy melting on the high chair under the
broiling sun. "I don't think so." She waved at him. The guy's flushed
skin wasn't entirely due to the sun. He pretended to be watching swimmers
already in the pool, but she could see his eyes bulging out as they were drawn
to her form.

Walter was one of the most common topics of discussion among

half of Maeve's schoolmates. It was the solid consensus among the female
students that Walter was just about the best-looking guy in town. Tall,
graceful, with a baritone voice and eyes as blue as his hair was black, he
could have had a date with any girl there by merely raising an eyebrow. Some of
her peers, Maeve knew, had taken up swimming just to be able to ogle the young
man's sculpted form on his lifeguard chair.

Sadly for Walter, and his distaff classmates, he was

painfully, devastatingly shy with women, to the point some girls had questioned
his orientation. Maeve was in the larger, more hopeful camp, the ones who felt
he was merely socially awkward and could be 'helped'. In any case, she was
pretty sure she was safe from being evicted by the shy young man.

The other lifeguard was Tiffany, even smaller than Tanya;

Maeve wasn't much worried about her, either.

"I'll call the police!" McGregor threatened.

"Go for it," Maeve snorted. "I think they've

got better things to do."

Mr. McGregor looked around for support. Instead, he saw

another couple shedding swimsuits. The woman sat down with her feet in the
water and watched Maeve; the man dived into the water before surfacing and,
treading water, watching the drama unfolding. Both were smiling broadly. The
woman's tits showed no tan lines; could it be they did this all the time?

As Maeve watched, water from the cooling spray collected on

another man's chest and slowly trickled down to his groin. The girl watched it
for a second, awaiting its inevitable fall from.

Maeve had a sudden inspiration, something she'd read

web-surfing only the day before. She shook her head to shake the image of the
man across from her and broke into a brilliant smile.

"After all, Mr. McGregor," she beamed. "It's

National Nude Day. Progress never stops."

"What?" the man almost screamed. "National what

Day? There's no such thing!"

"Certainly there is," Maeve grinned. "You can

google it, Mr. McGregor. It's a national celebration." To emphasize her
point, she arched her back, thrusting her bare tits up and forward at the dazed
caretaker.

Behind her, she could hear the sounds of other people

starting to laugh and from somewhere came a supporting whistle. McGregor had
never been well-liked and it was too hot for rulebooks. More people started
taking off their clothes.

"Come on, Tanya," she snorted.

Tanya had already doffed her bikini. Pushing between the

others, she handed it to McGregor in passing. The old man looked at the handful
of colorful fabric in disbelief then dropped it as if it were toxic. He spun
around and almost sprinted away. The sound of his office door slamming echoed
across the pool. A moment later, he exited and headed for the parking lot. His
car left seconds later, spraying gravel as it went.

Maeve dropped her suit and bag on a chair, stepped up onto

the low board and dove into the pool with a clean forward pike. She was
surprised at the delicious feel of cool water on areas which had never felt
bare swimming before. I was made for this! she realized with delight.

She was still more surprised when her head surfaced. Every

person in the crowded pool was applauding her.

Except Walter.

With nudity breaking out all around him, Walter wasn't quite

sure where to look. His eyes locked on Tanya, all five feet of her, topped with
short red hair, and with, as the saying goes, a rug matching the drapes. Tanya
caught him looking at her and pointedly blew him a kiss. Walter blushed and his
eyes darted away, almost in panic. But he couldn't look away from the
increasingly-unclad bodies in the pool, for watching was his job.

The guy's growing panic was almost palpable.

Pretend we're on the Net, Walter, Maeve snickered to

herself. I'm sure you've looked at boobies on your phone!

Then she had a better idea.

Waiting until Tiffany was occupied, she slipped under the

water in front of Walter's chair, then emerged with a loud splashing about.

"Cramp!" she yelled, before allowing herself to

sink back under the water.

Walter's training kicked in and he was off his perch in a

clean dive. Two stokes had him up to Maeve. He got too close; the girl grabbed
him. There was a brief wrestling match, which Walter of course won; but in the
process, Maeve had his swim trunks down around his ankles.

In desperation, Walter kicked them off without thinking;

and, breaking loose from Maeve's grasp, towed her efficiently to the side.

"Don't panic!" he called. "You're safe! I've

got you!" Right out of the book.

Maeve smiled to herself, despite the discomfort of being

towed. Who's got who? she thought. Okay, whom?

Walter reached around and pulled her to the edge, putting

both hands on the concrete ledge. It was only then that he realized he was
missing something. He looked frantically around for a way out. Maeve cut him
off by taking both hands off the ledge, grabbing Walter's head, and turning him
in towards her. Leaning forward, she began a long, sensuous kiss, tongue
sweeping inside his lips.

In his panic, Walter let go to push her away, only to cause

both of them to slide under the surface of the deep water. He reached back with
one hand, using the other in a vain attempt to free his face. Maeve was
relentless and, almost without realizing it, his lips opened and Walter had his
very first tongue kiss.

Her tongue slipped inside his mouth and licked back and

forth. Unsurprisingly, even in the cold water, Maeve felt him react under the
surface. She pulled back, grinning at him as their heads broke the surface,
into the air.

"Thank you for saving me, Walter," she smiled, as

beguilingly as she could. "I might have drowned."

Walter's free hand left her face and wrapped around her

waist to hold her. "It's Okay," he said huskily. "I think you
would've made it."

"But I still have a cramp, Walter," she breathed,

her nose only six inches from his. She deliberately opened her eyes as wide as
possible.

"The book says to massage the cramp," he said.

Again, he paused. He was uncomfortably (Okay; delightedly, but still
uncomfortably) aware of Maeve's substantial bosom pressing against his chest.
He knew, beyond the ghost of a doubt, that his rubbing her bare leg out on the
pool deck, would have him hard as a rock.

Without his trunks.

In public.

"It's so hot by the pool," she said, batting her

eyes, "Isn't there a room, out of the sun; or something?"

It was about as transparent as, Come up to my room and

see my sketchings, but Walter wasn't thinking as well as he might.

They climbed out and Maeve managed to fake a creditable

limp. Scooping her up in his arms, Walter headed for the small first-aid room,
between the 2 changing rooms. He got a round of applause for his rescue from
the (now mostly bare) spectators. Most were so busy applauding, that they
overlooked his half-hard tallywhacker. Maeve merely leaned her head on his
shoulder.

It was an odd feeling, she thought, his strong arms carrying

her. She hadn't been carried like that since she was a little girl. It felt
comforting, and exciting, at the same time.

Tanya gave her a wink and a quick thumbs-up, as they passed.

Passing Tiffany, Walter called to her to cover his

monitoring duties for a couple of minutes; as he kicked the door open, carrying
the buck naked girl inside. Maeve had never been in the room before, but was
unsurprised to see it was fairly bare except for a glass-fronted supply cabinet,
full of bandages; and a cloth-covered exam table. A spine board and stretcher
hung off hooks mounted on the wall. A telephone was mounted on the wall next to
a list of emergency numbers. It was pleasantly cooler, and dim, with the only
light coming from a row of windows high up on one wall.

"Okay," he said, standing her back up and trying

to sound professional, "Lie down on the table, please."

Having the guy thoroughly off-balance by now, Maeve decided

to press her advantage. Holding his forearm with one hand, she hopped on one
foot towards the table. His eyes popped as he watched her hefty tits sway and
bounce.

"Help me, Walter!" she cried, leaning towards him.

Flustered and hardly thinking, his strong hands grabbed her; as she had planned;
by her bare ass. There was a split-second pause before he shifted his grip to
her waist. Gingerly, he helped her get up on the table.

She rolled over on her stomach. "It's my right

calf," she said.

Walter paused. "I thought it was your left," he

said, puzzled.

Oops! She thought to herself.

"No, it's my right," she whispered, as she spread

her legs as wide as the exam table would support. "Please! It really
hurts."

Gallantly, the guy began to stroke her right calf. Maeve

smiled to herself, her face hidden. She wiggled her round ass, just a little,
and could feel his stare. His hands stopped, then restarted, more slowly now.
She eased her legs a bit farther apart, giving her victim a much better view of
her glistening cunt lips. His hands stopped altogether.

A slight poke on her hip told her everything she needed to

know. Guided by that, her hand reached out and grasped something every bit as
impressive as she had been hoping.

"Hey!" he blurted. He tried to back away, but

risked leaving behind important and sensitive parts, in her firm grip.

Maintaining her grasp on him, Maeve rolled over and sat up,

smiling sweetly.

"Walter," she murmured, "I'll let go the

instant you tell me a second time. But you and I both know, that you truly don't
want me to."

Her free hand reached out, took one of his and brought it

slowly, gently towards her tit. While he didn't exactly cooperate, he didn't
resist either. She stopped just short of causing his palm to contact her stiff
nipple, then relaxed her grip on his wrist.

"You're strong and sweet and really good-looking,

Walter," she whispered. "Isn't it about time you let yourself
try?"

His eyes flipped up, to lock with hers. She released his manhood,

then with both hands she cupped her tits and lifted them towards him as an
offering.

"Go ahead, Walter," she said, almost inaudibly.

"They're made for handsome guys, as well as babies, you know."

She reached up one hand behind his neck, then took his head

and slowly pulled it down to hers before whispering into the guy's ear, "I
want you, Walter. Kiss me. Please."

She felt both his hands close on her tits, carefully

squeezing and lifting them. Deep within her, a fire began to glow.

His lips touched hers, tentatively at first. She ran her

tongue across them. After a moment, his mouth opened and the tip of his own
tongue swept lightly across hers.

Still holding his head in both her hands, she pulled their

mouths apart. "That feels very good, darling. Don't stop, please."
She pulled him back in for a longer, stronger kiss. Their tongues wrapped
around each other. She felt his cock twitch against her leg a

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