Heat Stroke: Cool Pool Marie Treanor All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2008 Marie Treanor
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Heat Stroke: Cool Pool Marie Treanor Everyone loves her parents’ pool under the Mediterranean sun. And Emma soon discovers why. Something more than water lives there, distributing happiness while it looks for a way home. When Emma succumbs to a little physical happiness of her own, she has no idea how it will affect her own future, or that of her watery lover…
Cool Pool Under the hot Mediterranean sun, the pool rippled, cool and inviting. Or at least it would have been inviting had it not been filled with wrinklies. “Don’t they have pools of their own?” I knew I was being ungracious. Just because I’d arrived here from the UK exhausted and grumpier than a crocodile with a toothache after the divorce didn’t give me the right to be rude to my parents or their guests. “Join us,” my mother urged. “The water’s lovely.” Clearly. The wrinklies floated past each other, identical expressions of deep contentment on their sun-tanned faces. “Maybe later.” I sat down and poured myself some lemonade. My mother slithered into the pool and my father swam over and took her hand. They’d had their difficulties, but unlike Terry and me, they’d pigged it out and, after moving out here, found new happiness. I wondered if there was any vodka to go in the lemonade. “Such a beautiful pool,” one of the wrinklies -- Jane, from the villa next door -observed wistfully. “Isn’t it exactly the same as yours?” “Oh no, no one has a pool like Martha’s… You should come in, dear.” I would, when they all cleared off. But they only got out in the end because an irate son arrived to collect his parents. If that hadn’t galvanized them all into action, I swear they would have slept in the damned pool. I managed to smile and wave to the departing guests. Even I couldn’t begrudge them their swim -- they all had the same glow as my parents. Like post-coital satisfaction.
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Yuck. As my parents went to shower before dinner, I finally threw off my beach wrap and slid with a gasp into the cool, soothing water. I swam two lengths of the pool, then, with a relaxed stretch, I flipped onto my back and floated, letting the beauty engulf me. The sea was too far away to be visible, but I smelled it. Water lapped over my arms and breasts, like a sensual massage. You could lose yourself in this isolated paradise, pretend the troubles of the world -- including lying bastard ex-husbands -didn’t exist. My brain barely functioned. There was only my body, floating peacefully under the late afternoon sun. It felt light as a feather, and yet I was increasingly aware of every tiny part of it. The water rippled along my shoulders and neck, lapped around my sides and thighs, gliding over my stomach and washing off again as I arched a little higher. I hadn’t realized before how sensual water could be. Though the day was cooling, I still felt warm, with a strange, luscious heat that seemed to come from the inside. The water had sensitized every tiny hair, every nerveending in my body. I liked the way it nudged against my breasts, breaking over my nipples and tumbling away. I spread my legs to let the warm water caress between my thighs, the poor neglected pussy that certainly had not been enough to keep my husband faithful for more than a year. But I wouldn’t go back there. I was so bored with it, I could scream. Or fall asleep… Heat surged in my abdomen, rising higher and spreading lower with every ripple of the water around my pussy. My clitoris swelled with the water’s affections. I wanted to touch it, comfort it, but the water did it all so much more discreetly. My nipples stood out proud through my plain black swimsuit, as if reaching for another wave of water to caress them. I closed my eyes. I didn’t need a man. If I could get this aroused from pottering in the pool, I could probably even orgasm. I wondered. The pleasure had an edge now,
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a sensuality that left me breathless with desire. The water was inside me, caressing, moving up and down my pussy, almost like a man’s cock. The water lapping at my breasts might have been hands, fingers spread, cupping them, teasing my nipples as the storm built between my legs. Oh yes, I was going to come, and it was going to be so hot… “Fuck!” I jerked my body upright, splashed over to the side in an ungainly hurry and sit dripping and trembling on the side of the pool. Between my thighs, an agony of desire clamoured for satisfaction. What the hell was going on? Was I so frustrated that I had to imagine… What the hell had I imagined? I stared at the pool. I must have fallen asleep, dreaming -- inspired by the foolish ecstasy on the wrinklies’ faces as they swam. No wonder I was frustrated. After Terry, I would never trust any man enough to screw him. I was doomed to a life of celibacy and erotic dreams. The pool did have some very odd ripples. There was no breeze -- I had no idea where the water’s movement came from. But it looked so pretty, two sets of waves coming together and rising. I blinked. The upward splash seemed to have frozen in the air -- except that it moved, constantly, changing shape before my eyes into a shaft, into a neck and shoulders, with a head above. My mouth fell open. I shook my head, blinked several times, but the creature kept growing, totally transparent like sculpted, sparkling water. It even had a fine, broad chest, long, shaggy hair, a perfect man from the waist up. Except that he was made of water. And below the water… Jesus. This bloody scary weirdness was happening in front of me and I was looking for his schlong? The water man had beautiful features -- long, fine nose; full, sculpted lips; broad jawline; clear, arched eyebrows etched on his handsome face.
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And he was gazing at me, curiously. “You do not accept my pleasure?”
I was still dreaming, that was it… “I like to be asked.”
He smiled. “Come back in. Let me comfort your pain with love.”
“With sex,” I corrected dryly. “In my experience, sex never supplied any comfort
whatsoever. Hell, it wasn’t even much fun.” Stuff Terry. I was through even thinking about him. “With me, it’s fun.” “Who -- what -- exactly are you?” He cocked his head to one side, considering. “To you, I am probably best described as the sea.” Instinctively, I inhaled, smelled again the faint, salty tang I’d noticed earlier. “And the sea likes sex?” Even dreaming, I was struggling here. “Everything likes sex.” He lifted his arms. Clear and sparkling, they glistened in the sun, their watery muscles rippling. “Even you. Let me show you.” “Do I have sex with strangers in dreams?” I wondered, unsure of my role here. “If it helps, you are not a stranger to me.” “What am I, then?” He smiled again, enchanting me. “A betrayed and wounded creature who needs to rediscover life and love.” Abruptly, I swung my legs out of the water. “Bollocks.” I was buggered if I’d be pitied. By a swimming pool that thought it was the sea. How was that for a delusion of grandeur? Anyway, he wasn’t even real… Before I’d finished the thought, he moved, like liquid poured from a jug, and reformed with his transparent hand on my arm. It felt like water -- almost -- only it didn’t drip. It felt like fingers, only not solid enough. “Please, come back in the pool,” he said softly. His eyes were amazing. Reflective. I could see myself in them, as if they were mirrors. I looked stunned; he looked… sexy. Tempting as sin, unique. I couldn’t look away.
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His water-sculpted mouth began to smile again. Those not-quite water, not quite flesh fingers began to caress my arm. I shivered. “Why?” I demanded. His fingers worked a magic spell on my tingling skin. His eyes were dangerously seductive, his smile mysteriously beautiful with those glassy lips and sparkling, clear teeth. “I want to fuck you,” he said. “As a prelude to love.” “Thanks for trying,” I muttered. I meant to get up and run. Truly I did. Only my treacherous body remembered how it had felt in the pool. “I’ll take you all the way,” he whispered, his voice like ocean waves rushing onto the shore -- fierce, unstoppable, at once peaceful and exciting. My body reacted, flooding my thighs with sexual moisture. His nose twitched, as if he smelled it. Gently, he tugged my elbow and I sank down into the water, into his not quite flesh arms. His mouth covered mine. It was like drinking. But more pleasurable than wine. I tasted salt and male, felt my lips and tongue caressed, as I was gathered close into the water. I could even feel his big, rampant cock. I should have been terrified -- for my sanity if nothing else -- but I wasn’t. Utterly aroused, I gave myself up to the weirdness. His clear fingers slid under the strap of my swimsuit and tugged. The costume peeled down to my waist and the water rubbed against my breasts. I couldn’t help moaning, and then, alarmed by my own noise, I whispered, “What if my parents…” “They’d only see you swimming -- naked. But they’ll be gone a while. They’re fucking too.” “Oh, please,” I said, disgusted, and he kissed me again with smiling lips. The watery mouth trailed down my jaw to my neck, sensitizing all sorts of nerves I didn’t know I had, and slid along my shoulder, down to my breast. My nipple ached in his mouth, tweaked and tortured by a tongue that should have felt like… like nothing. Every nerve in my body caught fire, spreading bliss to my throbbing pussy.
Marie Treanor
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As he peeled my swimsuit completely off, I no longer knew what was him and what was ordinary water. I didn’t care. Constantly caressing, he nudged at my entrance with his cock, spread my legs wider with his knee. He released my mouth and gazed down at me, unsmiling. My breath caught all over again at his beauty, his strangeness. I moaned with utter need, and he pushed his cock inside me. I began to come from that moment. My body put up no resistance, so he slid all the way in at once. So deep… None of the discomfort, and far more pleasure than I had ever known. I tried to laugh. “Wow, a lover who’s his own lubrication…”And then I gave up all thoughts as I was fucked with silken force. I threw my head back in abandonment, but he pulled me back up, covering my mouth with his to smother the screams I couldn’t prevent. Orgasm tore me apart. Completely ravished, I writhed on him, around him, squeezing him hard in sudden fear that he would flow out of me. He didn’t. While waves of ecstasy still crashed over me, his silken cock became something harder, rougher, more definite. It continued to pump into me, sparking another wilder orgasm before the first could even finish. His chest no longer felt watery under my cheek. Wet, salty with sweat, but solid, warm flesh. And he breathed, fast and ragged. A low, animal growl came from deep inside him, vibrating both our bodies, and I knew with awe that he was going to come. He did, devastating me for a third time as hot liquid shot far inside me. I was way beyond any fear of it. We floated in the pool, he holding me up while our bodies convulsed. And when I could see again, I gazed into the deep, sea-blue eyes of the most beautiful man I had ever encountered.
***
Marie Treanor
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Tall, broad-shouldered, muscled from top to toe… Golden blond hair, long and shaggy, tumbled around a deeply masculine face, so handsome it almost glowed. Strong, sensual lips smiled at me. Lifting me in his powerful arms, he set me down on the side of the pool, reached beyond me for the nearby towel, and draped it round my shoulders. I swallowed. “Er -- what just happened? Are you real?” “The sea has found his mate. Our orgasms brought me to full solid form. I’m real.” I closed my mouth. “Wait a minute. You live in my parents’ swimming pool, touching up the wrinklies in search of a mate?” He grinned. The effect was dazzling. “No, no. I just brought a little happiness. I like to do that. With you it was lust.” “Funny,” I said faintly, “I never used to think I would like to be a sex object.” He touched my cheek, my hair with captivating tenderness. “I know your beauty; you’ve brought me back to full life. Now, I must return to the sea.” That hurt. Like a knife in the gut. Twisting. “Wham bam, thank you, ma’am.” I turned away. “Emma.” When had I told him my name? He cupped my chin in his hand, forcing me to face him. “Emma, I’ve been here too long. The sea will die without me. I’ll die without it. I have to be there. But I’ll find you whenever you’re near.” He waved one arm vaguely in the direction of the coast. “I don’t live anywhere near the Mediterranean!” “Your parents do.” I stared at him, possibilities of fresh starts and love in the sun already struggling for recognition. As if life wasn’t already weird enough. He brushed his lips across mine. Even that simple caress was electric. “Stay with me by the sea. Now that I’ve found you, I can live in both environments. In fact, I need to.” “Am I supposed to believe you want to live with me after one screw?”
Marie Treanor
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“Before the screw. And there will be many more.” He began to kiss my neck, his mouth roving strongly round to my nape. I gasped, wriggling in his arms, and he did it some more while his hand caressed my breast, softly at first, then with increasing force. When he dipped back into the water, I cried out in loss and fury, but he didn’t dissolve into his watery state -- which, let’s face it, was sexy enough -- he ducked down to kiss my stomach and thighs -- and what if someone saw? Stuff it. Nothing was more important than the mouth making its languorous way to my pussy. His lips whispered among my folds, gently caressing, brushed across my clitoris. He drew it into his mouth, making me moan and gasp, and when his tongue swept over it, I almost came on the spot. As it was, it didn’t take long. He felt too good, and I wanted him too much. He had to grip me by the hips to keep me still while his mouth ravished me, right through the orgasm that shook me literally from head to toe. As I came, he made deep, breathless, satisfied noises that vibrated through me, holding me at the pinnacle for so long I thought I would expire of joy. Then, abruptly, he released me and pushed me back on the hard ground. At the same time, he pulled himself out of the water and lowered himself over my body. He didn’t speak, but his intense blue eyes blazed into mine, glittering with pure lust. Like the sea -- fierce, rolling waves glistening in the sun. His hips came down on mine and before I could even spread my legs further he pushed inside me. “Oh God,” I whispered in anticipation, feeling the fading orgasm begin to return. “Sort of…” This was no silken, liquid fuck like the first. The solid cock he pounded into me was hard, hot, and determined, almost bruising. I loved it. Holding on to him, running my fingers feverishly all over the damp skin of his muscled back, I cooperated with enthusiasm, arching up to meet him thrust for thrust, reaching desperately for the next, shattering orgasm.
Marie Treanor
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I couldn’t believe its intensity. After what he’d already done to me, there should have been nothing left, but I came so hard I would have lost consciousness had I not been so determined to enjoy every last spark of it. He came with me, losing control so utterly that I was enchanted all over again, longed to know him completely. “You will,” he whispered, kissing me, rolling to the side so that he could stay inside me without squashing me. “Can you read my mind?” I asked, stroking his shining fair hair. “Of course.” I didn’t care. Invasion of privacy was a minor issue here. “How did you get into the pool?” He looked sheepish. “I fell asleep. Near the beach. Some children collected me in buckets and carried me all the way up here in a motor trailer. It was impressive actually. They didn’t spill any. And then they emptied me in the pool. Your parents told them off.” “My nephews,” I realized. “Yes. I’m trapped -- I can’t even drain away. I need you to take me back.” I nodded. If I was insane, I welcomed the madness with open arms. “How do I do that?” “Drive me!” “And you’ll just disappear into the sea?” “For a little. Come back to the beach tomorrow. I’ll find you, and we can make plans for our new life.” I really believed it would happen. Excitement filled me. I slid off him, gasping at the renewed pleasure, and reached for my clothes. “Let’s do it now.” I walked toward the car hand in hand with my gorgeous, naked lover. But halfway there, the texture of those fingers changed and lightened. I could only stare, bereft, as he dissolved in my grip, a stream of collapsing water that flowed inexorably across the stones and back into the pool.
Marie Treanor
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I couldn’t even call him back, because I didn’t know his name. How did you address the sea? Or a figment of your imagination? “Any way you like,” came his amused voice from the pool. I laughed aloud. I would find a way to take him to the sea. Maybe when he wasn’t so tired with all that sex. Until then, it would be no hardship to spend a lot of time in the pool…
Marie Treanor Marie Treanor was born and brought up in Scotland, but for some years moved around the UK working and studying. Now she is back home and happily married with three young children. Having grown bored with city life, she lives these days in a picturesque village by the sea where she is lucky enough to enjoy herself avoiding housework and writing stories of romance and fantasy. You can find out more about Marie and her books on her website: www.marietreanor.com, and by subscribing to her Newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/marietreanornewsletter. She also shares the Sexy Delights loop with fellow Scottish author Kyla Logan. Find out more athttp://groups.yahoo.com/group/sexydelights. Marie loves to hear from readers, who can contact her at
[email protected].
