Midnight Swim

Posted by rache on March 15, 2004 at 16:50:25:

Story codes:
M/F, NC, Snuff, Bride, Drowning

I wrote this kind of fast. I saw someone mention drowning and I thought, ‘Hmmm…haven’t done that in awhile.’ And so here it is. I warn you though, I’m in the mood for wine and roses, so this may not be what you want. But I liked the metaphor. Anyway, it’s probably just whiplash from that other stuff I’ve been doing. –rr.03/16/04 Phil.

Copyright 2004 by Rachael Ross. This is adult fiction; any resemblance to persons or places is coincidence mostly. It may be reposted without my permission provided my name and email appears and there is no charge to anyone viewing this story.

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Midnight Swim
Fiction by rache

My husband Paul and I had a wonderful wedding. I felt like a Princess in a fairy tale all day long. I was radiant with it. I wore my silk and satin wedding dress and felt…complete. Nine months is a long time to be engaged.

Did I say I felt complete? That isn’t entirely true. I wore virginal white for a reason. I couldn’t wait to consummate our marriage. In fact, I was so hot for it, I’d have done it on that big cathedral alter right after the kissing part. With everyone watching. And the photographer taking pictures, even. I was so excited; you have no idea.

But…There was the reception, and that excited me too. There was dancing, gifts, hugs and kisses from friends and long lost cousins, a big wedding cake to cut, and cases of sweet champagne. Lots of champagne. Just ask my new husband, if you could. He passed out under the table with his best friend, snoring side-by-side while I sat there, tapping my foot and occasionally kicking him.

Oh, they roused him long enough to stumble around the dance floor with me once, and drink a few more bottles, but he was done. His parents felt bad, I could tell, and my own father sat close to me, trying to console me. But it was raining on my wedding day. Raining in my heart. And as I sat there, it was raining on my rosy cheeks.

Some friends managed to carry Paul upstairs, into the Bridal Suite and get him into bed, still wearing his tuxedo. I tried to occupy myself with composing thank you notes on hotel stationary at the desk, but it was no good. All I could think about was what a bastard Paul was for doing this to me on my wedding day.

Around midnight, after he’d been lying there for a couple hours, I checked to see if I could wake him up. I didn’t want to yell or scream, or make a fuss, although I was certain I had a right to. I didn’t even want to talk. I just wanted him to finish the job, make me a woman finally after 21 years of childhood. I didn’t expect the sex to be good anyway. I figured it would hurt when he broke my hymen, all my friends had warned me. But they’d also told me it would feel good too, later. I could wait for later to feel good, but I was married today! I wanted to feel married!

I shook him and slapped his handsome face a little, but he was out cold. I unzipped his trousers and reached inside for his penis, thinking maybe I could breathe some life into it and finish the job myself. I wasn’t very good at giving head. I was never into it very much, but I’d done it a couple times on special occasions, like Paul’s birthday. So, I gritted my teeth, figuratively speaking of course, and bent to my task.

I sucked and licked and squeezed that little wiener for half an hour, but it was no use. It just flopped around in my hand like a wet noodle. I was almost crying with frustration. I admit I do have a bit of a temper, but I still shouldn’t have punched his balls so hard. After all, Paul would wake up eventually and make love to me. If I hurt him too badly though, it might be a few days, and that would only frustrate me even more. This weighed on my mind, but I decided I was starting to like being frustrated, and I punched him again. All he did was roll over and curl up with a groan.

I should have just gone to sleep then. The Bridal Suite was nice and came with a spare bedroom, although I couldn’t figure out why that should be. It was a Bridal Suite! Anyway, I didn’t go to sleep. I decided I needed to work some of that anger out of me, because I was starting to think maybe I should castrate him. And why not? My wedding felt castrated, our marriage impotent! But no, I did love him. He was my husband now. And I wanted kids. I was ovulating right on schedule and that was frustrating too.

I’ve always been a swimmer. Not a very good one, true, but I loved the water. It was clean, healthy, and it gave me a body that I was quite proud of. I decided I’d go swimming, burn off the energy and relax and think about just the good things that had happened that day. I was almost smiling as I retrieved my brand new little orange bikini and put it on. I hung up my wedding dress carefully, grabbed a towel and the key and padded out of the room barefoot. If my husband woke up and wondered where I was in the middle of the night, well, good for him!

There was a sign saying that the pool was closed after 10pm, but I ignored that. The door was open anyway and I just walked in. If they wanted to close it, well…they should have closed it! The pool was on the roof, covered by a glass dome and the lights were all turned off except for the bright bluish lamps in the pool itself. There were tropical plants and deck chairs, and it was quite warm. One could almost imagine being someplace nice, on some island paradise beneath the stars. It was beautiful and just what I needed.

There was another sign, as I walked up the short steps to the pool proper. It had all the rules on it, like no glass, no running, no shoes, etc. And another one too, the kind that flips around, and that one said ‘Swim at Your Own Risk’ and ‘No Lifeguard On Duty’ …So I kind of wondered why there was someone sitting in the little lifeguard stand. Especially since it was midnight and the pool was closed anyway.

I stopped when I saw him and stared in that dim light. He looked like he’d just walked off the beach, all muscles and short blonde hair, bleached by the sun. Definitely out of place for this town! I thought about turning around, but the only place I could have gone was back to my room. I didn’t want to go back there. So I stood there a dozen feet away or so, until he noticed me. Or at least until he decided to speak, I had the feeling he’d noticed me since I’d walked in.

“Pool’s closed.” He said.

“The door was open.” I tried. “I thought maybe it would be okay.” I smiled hopefully. “It’s my wedding day.”

Everyone else had treated me so special all day long, why wouldn’t he? You only had one wedding day, well, I hoped so anyway, and so I should be able to do what I wanted, right? I became conscious of my body as the man looked at me. Usually I wore a one-piece bathing suit, and even then wrapped a towel around my waist, just because it seemed very immodest to walk around showing too much. But here I was in a very small bikini that I’d bought to tease my husband and I was just carrying the towel.

I started thinking maybe I should just go back to my room.

“Married, huh?” He was still staring at me, not ashamed at all to be so forward about it. He took in my tall slender body, the swell of my large full breasts that were barely contained in the flimsy material, The taut pale skin of my tummy and the little swell of my sex as it was cupped tightly by my bikini bottom. I brought a hand to my long black hair, and brushed it back a little bravely. Staring at him with my green eyes.

“Yeah, just today.” I felt a little warbling sensation in my belly. A little hint of something undefined and I had the sudden realization that I didn’t really mind this stranger staring at me. My new husband had never looked at me this way, I thought, which perhaps went a long way towards explaining why he was passed out instead of taking my virginity like he was supposed to be doing.

“How come you’re not with your husband then?” He started getting down from the chair. It was only a couple feet above the floor, 2 wooden steps that creaked softly as he moved. He was wearing red swim trunks, the Speedo kind, that hugged his loins very nicely and showed a rather dominant bulge. I tried not to look, honestly, but how could I not? Please! It was like a magnet.

“He’s in our room, resting.” I moved the towel in front of me, holding it with both hands as if to protect my chaste intentions.

“Oh.” The man nodded and I could see his eyes now, a soft brown that looked terribly amused. “You don’t look tired.”

“No, I…I had a lot of energy, you know. Excitement and I just thought I’d work it out.” I was nodding as if my body were trying to agree with what I was saying.

He walked closer and I could see his skin, smooth and bronzed like a God. He was tall, easily over six feet and he looked down at me, standing very close in front of me now. He smelled like…cocoa butter. It was a sweet fragrance that seemed to permeate the air, my very senses. I swallowed nervously.

“Well, I won’t stop you.” He smiled and his teeth were perfect, like they had to be. “I’ll just close the door. You wouldn’t want someone to catch you” he started walking away, “breaking the rules.”

I let out the breath I was holding and decided I’d be safer in the water than standing there with him. I was itchy all over; particularly my nipples and I looked down with an embarrassed frown as I realized they were hard as pebbles and plainly visibly through my suit. I knew that he’d seen them and I blushed madly.

I put my towel on a little round table and stepped into the pool, walking down submerged steps into the shallow end. The water was warm and perfect and I felt better immediately, even if it only barely came up to my hips. I heard the door close and little ka-chunk sound as the deadbolt was locked. That made me look up and I wondered if I should really be in there with a strange man, just the two of us alone. I suppose under normal circumstance I’d have left. But nothing felt normal. I had been wound up tight all day, with one anticipation after another, reveling in their fulfillments, all except for the last. My body wanted more and my mind…? I didn’t know.

I saw the man returning, walking slowly as he emerged from the far shadows into the lighted pool area and I immediately started moving into the deeper water. I would just ignore him, I thought. If he liked looking at me, which he obviously did, then I couldn’t help that. I even tried to deny the perverse pleasure I felt at knowing he was attracted to me. That precious quiver in my belly when I saw the look in his eyes as they roamed across my skin had been wonderful. I had liked it a lot. But looking was just looking, I told myself, and that was all.

I swam lazily; paddling slowly through the placid waters and feeling my muscles stretch and loosen. I had been under a lot of stress, and this was just what I’d needed. But the man was never far from my mind and I’d turn my head to look at him occasionally, trying to pretend I wasn’t, and I felt pride in myself. I’d perhaps lost a little self-esteem when my new husband had so unceremoniously passed out. As if that was evidence of some horrible disinterest. At least if he didn’t want me, this handsome stranger did, and that wicked thought consoled me. Even if I couldn’t let anything else happen, that was enough.

I’d been stared at before, of course. I knew men found me attractive, and some of them had even approached me, propositioning me with everything from dinner to breakfast. But those times had been different, I hadn’t been married, and this was a new experience. My previous refusals of other men had been based on a choice I no longer had. My mind worried that over while I turned my body over, so I could float on my back and stare at the reflection of myself on that bright blue water. I felt a little trapped, I realized, as though I’d given something important up when I’d taken those vows such a short time before. Caught like a girl in a spoon-shaped mirror, upside down and backwards. Nothing made sense and I didn’t know why. That was the worst of it.

I soon chastised myself mentally though. I had given up some freedom perhaps, but I’d gained so much more. I decided I was happy with the compromise and that was when I think I finally forgave my husband his foolish behavior. I loved Paul dearly and being here alone while he slept in our wedding bed was not what I wanted, but it was part of the ‘…for better or for worse’ part of my promise. In the morning, hung over or not, Paul would make me a real wife. I smiled at the thought.

“Wha…!?”

I drew a sharp breath and suddenly floundered in the water as I felt someone touch me, just barely on one of my outstretched hands. It was the stranger. I’d forgotten all about him somehow in those few quiet minutes of reflection. But he hadn’t forgotten me.

“Sorry,” He smiled as he treaded water next to me. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I was treading water as well, my hair spread out around me like a dark stain, kicking with my feet and waving my arms slowly in the deep end of the pool. “I didn’t know you were there.” I blinked some water from eyes. “I was just…thinking…about things.”

“A new wife, I can understand that.” He was circling me slowly so I had to spin a little, pushing with my hands against the water to keep him in front of me. “I just don’t understand why your new husband would let someone as beautiful as you out alone.”

I stared at him, shaking my head a little. “He trusts me.”

“A man should trust his wife.” He moved a little closer and I could feel the soft ripples caused by his motion caressing my skin. “But he should also keep her very close. Protect her.”

I started feeling that quiver again. His voice was soft and soothing and his eyes seemed to warm my face as he looked at me. What was going on? I needed to swim away, right then, to get out of the pool and go back to my room. But I didn’t. So I did the next best thing and tried to change the subject away from me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him. “Are you a guest?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I’m just the lifeguard. I come here sometimes, late at night. It helps me think.”

“And what do you think about?” I smiled without really knowing why.

“Just…thoughts.” He was very close now and every once in awhile our arms or our feet would touch, just for a second. It was like the water was charged with electricity when it happened and I felt myself growing warmer.

“Have you ever saved anyone?” I asked and my voice was very soft. I was panting almost, and not entirely from the effort of moving my arms and legs.

“I could save you.” He whispered and smiled as though he were teasing me somehow.

“I didn’t know I needed saving.” I laughed at his words.

I felt his hand touching my bare thigh as it moved under the water, my legs churning as though riding a loose and wobbly bicycle.

“Don’t.” I said gently. But his hand stayed there, rubbing my skin and he slid his body next to me, pushing us to the side of the pool. “Please.” I added, looking into his beautiful eyes.

“Shhhh…” His face was so close our lips were almost touching. “I’m saving you.”

His body was against mine and I stopped moving my legs, leaning back and spreading them around his waist. My pelvis rubbed the hard warmth of his stomach as he pushed us slowly, effortlessly. I rowed my hands, keeping my head above the water, leaning back and looking up at his face while he kicked and pushed and swam for both of us.

“I should…” I started weakly. “I need to go, I need to…to see if my husband…”

“I know.” He nodded and I felt the hardness of the concrete behind me, touching it with my fingertips, grabbing it as the rest of my body caught up.

I was backed up until the edge of the pool trapped me completely to this stranger’s body. There was a narrow ledge running around it, 5 feet deep or so, and he stood on it with my legs still wrapped around his hips. I could feel the hardness of his manhood trapped within his suit, like a hard rounded bulge that he pressed to my hidden sex. His hands caught the little gutter just above the surface of the water and he held it so that I could hold him.

“I’m married.” I whispered and my eyes were full of pain. I couldn’t do this, didn’t he understand? He had to let me go. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t want this. Even as I felt the excitement surging from my fingertips all the way down to my toes, my nipples hard and burning, my virgin sex aching as it had never done before…Even beyond that, I knew this was wrong.

The stranger just looked at me. “I know.”

He could save me, I understood it in that long moment between wanting and having, and he could save me. He could push himself away and let me go. I told him this with my eyes, I promised him a thousand words of gratitude, if he’d just do that one thing. If he’d be strong enough for both of us. I was drowning. My arms around his neck, my legs around his waist. My body trying to kill me with its instinctive response. But he could let me live.

“Please.” I whispered and then he was kissing me.

I hated it. I hated the way my mouth opened for him, my head turning as his lips found mine. The way his tongue penetrated me so easily, touching me inside. Moving over mine, around it, urging me to respond. I hated the way my body moved then, the little motion of my hips, rubbing up and down. My breasts seemed to swell and I crushed myself against him, feeling the pressure on my nipples and moaning with the pleasure of it. I hated the way he stood there, just kissing me, not moving. He held the edge of the pool and let me rub myself against him. I hated myself.

“Take off your top.” He breathed. And I did it, with nimble urgent fingers, fairly ripping at the strings behind my back. The bit of orange floated languidly away and I watched it while he bent his mouth to kiss my breasts. I cradled his head to me, gasping at the sensation of his lips sucking and then moaning at his teeth biting.

I was feverish, burning from within and there was no relief. Every part of me that he touched cried out for more, and those places he did not ached with painful neglect. I had brief blurry memories of the day. Flashes of myself in the mirror, dressing for my wedding. The ring on my finger, the strobe of the photographer’s camera. Of my husband, tall and regal and handsome. I wept and clawed at this stranger’s back as he suckled me, breathing fire into my body even as my mind sought to extinguish it. I was drowning, gasping for air, sinking…sinking.

“Take me out.” His voice was in my ear, hot and wet and intoxicating. I reached down between us, hooking my thumbs in his suit, moving by touch alone as I shut my eyes to that awful moment. His tongue caressed my ear and then his mouth, touching and biting. I felt his hardness, strong and large and deliberate.

I was weeping then. Soft tears running slowly from my eyes, one by one by one. I took his penis in one hand and pulled aside my bikini bottoms with the other, trembling all over. I was so frightened suddenly, terrified by the overpowering of want. My sex demanded it, like a will of it’s own seizing my senses. I felt nothing but the desire between my legs. The burning emptiness to be filled, finally and completely. I pressed the head of him to my opening, moving it back and forth, catching me, splitting me as he pushed.

“Oh!” I screamed, but it sounded only as a whisper across that placid pond. I shivered and gripped him tightly, digging my heels into the small of his back. His hardness surged into me, stretching me and finding the soft thin blockage of my hymen. He paused as he realized what he’d felt and kissed me hard so that I opened my eyes, looking into those of a man I did not know. He thrust and tore my flesh, and I did scream, muffled and uselessly into his mouth. He drank it, breathed my pain and fear and betrayal, while his cock bathed in my virginal blood.

It was a glorious pain. Sharp and quick and it brought with it a climax to rend my soul. I had lost something, given something away that I should not have. I moved with him, rocking my body and groaning. I begged him to make love to me, to thrust himself over and over inside me. I clung to him desperately, as if he were my husband and I his eager bride. I felt shame and horror at my pleasure, but made no effort to stop. If anything I became even more enthusiastic as the pain and discomfort faded, though never entirely disappeared. I hoped it never would; I wanted to remember that sensation forever.

“Do you want me to pull out?” He asked me, and then again as I hadn’t responded. “I’m going to cum.”

“No…no please…inside me I want it…to feel it…my first time.” I breathed, biting my lips and grinding my sex to him. I had gone so far, too far, but this was what I wanted. God help me, I needed it so badly. To be complete on my wedding night. I crushed my breasts to his chest, kissing him again, whispering encouragement to fill my womb with his seed. And as I sensed, rather than truly felt that sudden spreading warmth of his semen inside me, I drowned utterly in my last best orgasm of the night.

With his penis still inside me, still throbbing his ejaculate into my fertile womb, we pushed suddenly off the wall. I kept my arms and legs around him, oblivious to it. My heart was pounding and my lungs heaved as my body surrendered. I was a woman now. Not a child. Married and impregnated, I was sure. I hoped, I dreamed, and all of those thoughts were part of it, tendrils of the ecstasy that seized me.

It was only slowly that I realized we’d drifted away from safety, our bodies entwined, sinking. Our heads went underwater and I took a mouthful of water, choking on it suddenly and coughing bubbles around our faces. I struggled and wondered why he was holding me. He’d wrapped his arms around me, while I’d let go, reaching instinctively for the surface as it stretched away above us. My legs tried to use him and his penis was still urgently erect, still inside of me as I kicked. But instead of being freed of it, of him, he only pulled me closer making love to me still even as we slowly fell.

I stared at him under the water, flailing, struggling, fighting his embrace as we sank deeper. I felt the pressure of the water on my face, not unpleasant, but frightening me. My feet touched the sloping bottom, and our weight pulled us to the center of the pool. His hardness was an ache in my womb, I was more aware of it than ever, and I felt that If I could lift myself from that penetration I would be free. But every movement I made seemed designed to push him deeper, to work that betrayal deeper in my spoiled sex. I felt my lungs beginning to burn, heaving as I kept my mouth shut and fought to avoid taking that last deep breath my body wanted. I wasted energy punching at the man, pulling at his arms and legs while he watched me. My heart was pounding in my ears and I didn’t understand. I didn’t know why he was doing this. I couldn’t even ask him. That was the worst. The never knowing why.

I wondered if I could hold my breath as long as he could. He was twice my size and I’d been fighting, but I stopped. I relaxed in his arms. Let me go I pleaded silently. Using my eyes, my smile in the bottom of that bright blue pool. I stroked his skin. You can save me, I told him, you can be strong enough for both of us. Let us go, please. I couldn’t tell if I was crying, but I thought I was. I felt like I was. I put my face next to his, staring into his soft brown eyes, begging him to let our baby live.

A strange serenity came then as my body spasmed and my lungs betrayed me finally. I took a great breath of water. I shook violently and looked at him with surprise, and then there was calm again. As though it had never happened. I felt his penis throb and swell and once more empty inside my body. How remarkable, I thought, that the last thing I should feel would be this. He withdrew slowly and let me go and I never saw him again.

The end
Rache18us@yahoo.com