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Message # 1488.5.2

Subject: Re:

Date: Fri 27/12/02 03:09:44 GMT

Name: carpie

Email: carpie.2001@ntlworld.com

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By "Sunfish" - Wed 25/12/02 04:21:17 GMT

Website:

by "Sunfish"

The summer after graduation was a very enjoyable one.  Ari and I saw a lot of each other, including many excursions to the beach, but somehow I was never able to find another good excuse for her to get wet with all her clothes on again.  At least she wasn't one of those beach bunnies who just lie on the sand; she did like to swim and always got wet, and since even in a regular bathing suit I thought she was the sexiest, most beautiful creature on earth, I could hardly complain.  

At first she always wore the same thing, a really snug-fitting white one-piece that showed off her trim figure quite effectively, but one July morning when I picked her up she seemed annoyed.  "Is something wrong?" I asked.

"Oh, it's nothing you did," she grumbled.  "Last time we got back from the beach I forgot to hang my suit up to dry, so this morning when I went to get ready it was too grungy to even think about wearing it today."

"Do you have another suit?" I asked, ready and eager to suggest an alternative if she didn't.

"Yea," she sighed.  "I've already got it on.  My white two-piece seems to be lost somewhere, so I had to wear an old suit that my Mom picked out for me."

It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to interpret her tone of voice.  "Uh, I take it you don't like it," I deduced.

"It makes me look like Raggedy Ann," she muttered.  I was about to point out that it would be perfectly acceptable for her to swim in her T-shirt and shorts instead when she added, "That's ok, I guess it won't kill me to look like a dork just this once."  Then she forced a smile and continued, "It's a beautiful day and I'm not going to let a little thing like this ruin it.  Besides, if I leave my clothes on whenever we're not in the water maybe nobody will notice, right?  Let's go."

When we arrived at the shore we carried our stuff down to the sand and laid out our towels.  "It's already hot," I said.  "Let's get a swim in before it gets crowded, and get wet so we'll stay a little bit cool."

"Sounds good to me," she agreed.

"If you really hate your swimsuit, I won't mind if you leave your shirt and shorts on," I offered hopefully.

"No, that's ok," she said.  "I can deal with it, and besides, I want something half-way dry to wear home."  Then she peeled off her shirt and wiggled out of her cut-offs.  "It is pretty icky, though, isn't it?" she asked me, looking down at her suit with dismay.

"You've got to be kidding," I retorted.  The dreaded Mom-chosen outfit was now revealed to be a two-piece affair with a modest halter-style top and a matching and equally modest skirted bottom, all made of pink-and-white gingham.  It was trimmed with red piping along the edges, and there were three little red bows attached, one centered in the front of her top and one on each side of the skirt's waistline.  "That looks great on you," I told her.  She grimaced and dismissed my comment with a wave, but I didn't give up.  "No, really," I insisted, "I like it.  You look very feminine in it.  In fact, I think it's even sexier than your white one."

"You do?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, I do," I affirmed, taking her hand.  "Now let's stop wasting time and do what we came here to do."  We ran across the sand and into the surf, diving into the waves when we reached thigh-deep water.  Ari dove first, and as she did I noticed that panty concealed under her skirt was not of matching pink plaid as I'd expected, but rather was solid red.  The water was a bit rough for true swimming, so we just splashed around for a while to cool off.  I was somewhat disappointed that the gingham fabric of Ari's swimsuit didn't change color when it got wet, but that shortcoming was more than compensated for by the response of the solid fabric.  It manifested a very distinct change in appearance, and I was enthralled by the sight of those red panties glistening and clinging to Ari's shapely derriere every time she dove into a wave.  Even more enervating, the attached skirt was short enough and cut loose enough that when we both sat down in shallow water to let the waves wash over us, the skirt was repeatedly swept upward, giving me a series of fleeting but rather complete views of the all the available scenery.  Needless to say, I tried to arrange my position to take full advantage of such observational opportunities, and before long I was living proof of the theory of "intermittent reinforcement" - because her skirt was usually hiding what I wanted to see, my attention was far more firmly fixed on Ari than it had ever been when she'd worn her preferred and more revealing attire.

We decided to play in the breakers for a while, and so headed out into deeper water.  Before long we were holding on to each other, trying to remain standing as the waves broke over us.  Because we were often knocked off balance by the force of the water, we had to grab each other anywhere we could, and my hand soon ended up gripping Ari's backside under her skirt.  It was under water where nobody else could see, and instead of objecting she put her arm around me to help stabilize our position.  Between the waves when the water was calmer, I began to lightly fondle her a bit, to which she clearly had no objection.  Alas, the impacts of the swells made it impossible to keep that up for more than a few seconds at a time, so once again intermittent reinforcement worked its wicked magic on me.

When we returned to our towels and lunches after our swim, I specifically asked Ari not to cover up her suit with her clothes, and was rewarded with another good look at her sopping bottom when she bent over the cooler to check on our lunches.  A couple other times during the day I told her again how cute she looked in her skirted suit, so by the end of the day she began to suspect that perhaps I was serious about liking it and not just being nice.  When I dropped her off at her house that evening, we were about to begin our usual good-night kiss when I asked her, "Which swimsuit are you going to wear next time we hit the beach?"

She laughed.  "You were very polite today, but you don't have to keep pretending you like this ugly old thing.  I'll wear my white suit for you next time."  I turned my head away, pantomiming a refusal to kiss her.  "You were actually serious, weren't you?" she asked me, amazed.  I nodded.  "Ok, I get the picture," she finally conceded, smiling good-naturedly.  "You like chasing skirts."  I grinned idiotically and nodded.  "Then I'd better make sure it's mine you're chasing," she murmured, snuggling up to me, "and to do that I suppose I'll have to be wearing one.  All right, you can have another date with Raggedy Ann."  Upon hearing that, I wrapped my arms around her and gave her one of my best kisses.  This mode of communication appeared to work well, because over the next few weeks she wore that suit a lot, without me ever having to ask again.

Of course, I would have liked it even better had she forgone swimsuits entirely, and at various times during the rest of the beach season I made a point of dropping a few not-so-subtle hints to that effect.  Although I'm sure she understood what I was driving at, she didn't seem inclined to act on it, so rather than jeopardize the best relationship I'd ever had I just dropped the matter and was thankful for what I had.

Alas, summer passed all too quickly into autumn and soon we both had to move off to our respective colleges.  Of course we continued to see each other as we had agreed to, and in fact did so almost every weekend, and our relationship remained strong.  Unfortunately it got cold unseasonably early that year, and the dorm rooms were all doubles without any privacy, so the opportunity for getting wet either outdoors or indoors dropped from slim to none and I resigned myself to waiting until spring for warm weather to return.

Things went along nicely for months, and we were both doing well balancing our time together with our academic work.  We never pushed the physical intimacy any farther than we'd gone at the graduation party, and on most weekends rather less than that - partly by choice but mostly due to lack of privacy.  We were comfortable with each other, and we were both happy to simply let the emotional aspects of our relationship deepen for a while.

Then came December 31.  Ari and I had both decided to return to our respective campuses early after Christmas break to get a head start on independent project work that each of us were doing.  Of course, the fact that this arrangement would also make it easy for her to spend New Year's Eve at my dorm did cross our minds, but we didn't find it necessary to mention that to our parents.

The dorms at my school were kept open for a handful of international students who couldn't get home, but the campus was otherwise fairly empty.  The few people still present on New Year's Eve had mostly headed out to the Student Center or local pubs, and there were only two other guys left in my whole dorm.  They both had steady girlfriends coming over, too, and we had previously arranged to have our own little quiet party in the dorm lounge.  We three guys got all the munchies and drinks that afternoon, and then all six of us met in the lounge after taking our dates out to dinner.

It was a pretty casual get-together, but Ari had decided to dress up a bit and brought along a gorgeous yellow dress that consisted of two layers.  The inner piece was sleeveless, of thin pale yellow satiny material, with a deeply plunging neckline and stopping high above her knees.  That was then covered by an overlay of even thinner cream-colored gauze with a lower hemline, higher neckline, and short sleeves.  It was far too light and airy for the season, almost like a summer sundress but a bit more formal, so she didn't wear it to dinner but instead changed into it as soon as we got back to the dorm and wouldn't have to go out in the cold again.  The whole thing was just loose enough to be comfortable and just tight enough to be sexy, and she looked great in it, a yellow satin sash around her waist really accentuating the smooth curves of her slim figure.  One of the other girls, Tasha, had worn a skirt and sweater, but the rest of us were all in jeans and shirts.  We had the TV on in the lounge to keep track of the exact time, but the sound was turned off so we could all talk.  It was a congenial group, and we chatted about all kinds of things as we waited for the clock to count down.  Sometimes the topics got a bit ribald, but everyone seemed comfortable with that, including, much to my surprise, Ari.

After a while each of the other women climbed into her date's lap, and when Ari followed their lead, her dress shifted to give me a quick glimpse of her white slip underneath.  My blood pressure began rising, and she knew it and made a point of squirming around just enough to keep me excited.  I began to wonder if a new stage in our relationship was about to begin, and it was hard to concentrate on the conversations.

It was shortly before the big moment, and the guys had just finished a sports discussion of the "perfect game," when Ari asked, "OK, now I've got a question for the ladies.  What's your idea of the perfect New Year's kiss?"  Everybody laughed, but Ari pressed.  "No, really, I'd like to hear your ideas."

"I'll bite," said Tasha.  "My man takes me to New York City, treats me to a great dinner with lots of wine, then we walk to Times Square.  There is fresh snow falling and the air is crisp and clean.  The kiss starts when the ball starts falling and doesn't stop until *long* after it finishes."

"How about you?" asked Ari, looking at the third woman, who was quiet and hadn't said much.

"Well, I guess mine would be on a beach in the Bahamas.  We'd be walking barefoot on the sand, there would be a full moon, and a warm breeze would be wafting mysterious scents of tropical flowers out of the palm groves.  The only sound we'd hear as we kissed would be a single bird calling softly into the night."

"Now your turn," said Tasha to Ari.  "You have to answer your own question, you know."

"My perfect New Year's kiss would be with a wonderful man, smart, handsome, sensitive, and caring.  It would be a man I'm really crazy about and love to be with."  She ran her hands through my hair, making it perfectly clear who she was talking about.  "We wouldn't have to be anywhere special, as long as we were together.  Then, just at the stroke of midnight, he'd pull me close, hold me tight, and give me a short, tender kiss."

"Oh, lay it on a little thicker," chortled Tasha, screwing up her face.  "You don't expect us to buy *that*."

"And then he'd kiss me again," continued Ari, ignoring the interruption, "only not quite so gently this time.  And then again, and I'd feel his hands starting to wander."  The other girls laughed.  "He'd keep kissing me again and again, harder each time, and I'd feel his heart pounding and know he loved me so much he just couldn't stop."  Ari was grinning, obviously having fun with this.  "I'd kiss him back just as hard, our tongues entwining, and our fingers would explore each other's bodies.  Then suddenly, without any warning, he'd pick me up and pull me into a steamy shower, and we'd feel the hot water streaming all over us, as torrid as our passion.  Our clothes would be getting all wet but we'd be so lost in each other that we wouldn't care and would keep right on kissing until we were soaked through to the skin.  It would be the hottest, wettest, kiss you could imagine."  I couldn't believe what Ari was saying, and I was almost dizzy with excitement.

"And then somehow you'd have to get out of your wet things, eh?" chuckled Tasha.

"I suppose we'd manage," replied Ari with a grin, "one way or another."  I'd never heard her like this before, and it was more than I would ever have hoped for.

"You've caught yourself a live one, there, Scott," laughed one of the other guys.  "You gonna give her what she wants?"

I looked at Ari, and our eyes locked.  "Is that what you want?"  I asked.  She answered with a smile and one slow nod, so I turned back to the guys.  "I've never refused her anything yet," I said.  "Ari always gets what she wants."

"Well I think it sounds outrageously romantic," said Tasha, turning to her boyfriend and poking him.  "If Ari gets a kiss like that this year, I want one too."

"You're both nuts," he said, then turned to me.  "Are you actually going to do that?"  I saw the gleam in Ari's eyes, and nodded enthusiastically in the affirmative.

"Then let's go," announced Tasha.

"In your skirt and sweater?" objected her boyfriend.

"Where's your spirit of adventure and romance?" she retorted, standing up and pulling him out of his chair.  "Come on, we have to hurry," she urged.  "We've only got a couple minutes before midnight." Ari and I got up to follow them.  "Hey, let's go," Tasha called out to the third couple, "everybody has to do this together."  They looked dubious, but the guy took his girlfriend by the hand and we all trouped up the stairs to the second floor where both our rooms and the main bathroom with the showers were located.

We knew nobody else was in the building, so it didn't matter that it was a men's room, and we all went right in.  "I'll get the temperature adjusted," I called out, as I ran into the showers and turned three of them on.  "Let's see now, cold - warm - torrid.  That should do it."

Ari had her watch adjusted to the exact time and soon started calling out the count:  "Ten, nine, eight, ..."  The three nozzles running and ready, I ran back to her, put my arms around her waist, and waited.  When she called "Midnight!" all six of us locked into kisses.  It wasn't easy holding back, but I did as Ari had described, starting slowly and building up gradually.  When the moment seemed right I picked her up and carried her into the showers.  Tasha cheered and followed us, her boyfriend reluctantly in tow, the third couple gingerly entered right behind them, and that was the last time I was aware of anyone but Ari that night.

As I positioned Ari under the water it hit her hair and slicked it down quickly, and after another kiss she leaned back to let the warm blast hit her face and the front of her neck.  The water flooded down her chest, quickly soaking her dress so that both layers of fabric drew tightly to the form of her breasts and removed any question about what she wore under it.  We kissed again, and again, slowly turning in the shower until the two of us were completely drenched.  The feel of the hot water running down my shirt and inside my underpants, combined with the sight of Ari's dress becoming almost transparent in the deluge, made me more aroused than I'd been in a long time.

"I love that look in your eyes," Ari murmured, her hands clasped behind my neck.

"What look is that?"

"The look you had when we went swimming on graduation night.  The same one you had after our squirt gun fight.  It's the look that tells a woman she's a woman."

"Oh, Ari, there's never been any doubt in my mind about that," I told her, "but you're something even better than a woman.  You're my woman."

"Your right," she agreed happily, "that is even better."  She slipped out of my arms and twirled around, dancing through the other two now-vacant showers, the flimsy yellow and cream dress clinging to her as the water splashed over it.  Then she stopped directly in the spray, looked at me, and licked her lips suggestively.  "I want to be your woman, completely and always."

I lunged into the spray with her, pulled her close to me, and gave her yet another deep kiss.  "Ari, you devil, you're driving me crazy," I whispered.  "That dress is so thin, it almost disappears when it gets wet.  I know you would have worn something else if you'd thought of jumping in the shower before you got dressed, but I love the way you look in it and I'm so glad you're wearing it."

"Oh, but I had thought of jumping in the shower," she corrected me.  "In fact, that's exactly what I was thinking of when I picked out this dress.  I bought it last week just for the occasion."  Then, seeing the expression on my face, she added with a smirk, "I'm glad you like it."

"You're really tempting fate now, girl.  Don't you remember what happened the last time you deliberately got wet in all your clothes?"

"I certainly do," she assured me.  "That's why I haven't done it again for so long; I didn't want to tease you with something I wasn't ready for."

"Then why did you decide to wear an irresistibly sexy dress into the shower with me tonight?"

"Because I remember what happened last time."

After that, we soon reached a point where kissing wasn't enough.  "I want you," I told Ari urgently.  "I want you back in my room.  Now."  The other two couples had apparently had the same idea some time ago, because they were nowhere to be seen.

"Then take me there," she replied, so I turned off the water, took her hand and pulled her out of the shower.  Her dress clung so tightly to her body and to her underthings it drove me wild with desire, and I led her quickly to my room and ushered her inside, leaving our path down the hallway marked by one of three long dripping trails.  As I closed the door and turned back to Ari, I noticed that she'd taken a box of condoms out of her purse.

"I'm glad you still have those."

"Actually, the first box got outdated so I threw them away," she informed me.  "I bought these to replace them."

"When did you do that?"

"This morning," she replied, opening the box and taking out one small packet.

"I love it when you take the initiative," I told her, putting my arms around her and giving her a long, deep, kiss while I squeezed her soggy backside.

"I thought you would," she said, her fingers already unbuttoning my wet shirt and peeling it off.  "And I thought it was time to let you know what I was ready for."  She kissed me again, her sopping dress pressed hard against my bare chest, then immediately unfastened my pants and dropped them to my ankles.  I reached out to do the same for her, but she stopped me.  "No.  I'm feeling very daring and horny tonight, and I want to strip for you."  I quickly pulled my shoes and boxers off, and stood naked in the room watching her.  First she kicked off her shoes and pirouetted for me, letting me see how clearly the drenched, thin layers of fabric revealed all her underwear.  Then she unfastened the outer layer of creamy gauze, peeled it off carefully and sensuously, and tossed it into the corner.  Next she slowly unzipped the still-dripping inner short satin dress, wiggling her body to free herself of it, and letting it fall to the ground with a splat.  When she started running her hands over her wet white slip and slowly pulling it up, I became too inflamed with lust to even remain standing, and I dropped down onto the big throw rug we had in the room.  Her slip went higher, uncovering a pair of skimpy white panties that, wet as they were, left no doubt about her gender.  Higher still, and her bra, a thin one even when dry, drew my attention to two additional focal points that the wispy, wet material could not even hope to conceal.

Then she tore the little packet open, knelt down beside me, and did what my own hands were trembling too much to do themselves.  Her smooth skin was still glistening with beads of water, her remaining clothing providing a pretense of propriety but in reality hiding nothing, and I moaned as she stopped to stroke her sopping bra and panties, deliberately teasing me for one last moment before shedding them.  Shimmying loose from those last vestiges of modesty, she dispatched the token bits of gossamer to join the rest of our clothes in a heap.  By the time she pushed me onto my back and climbed on top of me, I was utterly powerless to resist, and though I made a valiant attempt at endurance, the effort proved futile and the denouement followed almost immediately.

"I'm sorry," I gasped, as I caught my breath.  "I tried to wait ..."

Ari touched her hands to my lips.  "I keep telling you, you worry too much," she smiled.  "I take it as a compliment that being with me and looking at me and touching me gets you so uncontrollably excited.  Besides, I know you'll take care of me."

"Of course I will," I assured her.  "But tell me, where did you learn how to be so seductive?  I like it, I like it a lot, but you've never been quite like this before."  Her only answer was a cryptic smile.  "Oh, let me guess," I said, suddenly putting two and two together.  "You've been talking to Cathy again."

Ari laughed.  "It's amazing what you can learn from a big sister, even if she's really a cousin.  She came over for Christmas, and we had lots of time to talk and stuff."

"And stuff?" I remarked.  "That phrase sounds like it could cover quite a multitude of sins."

"Well, she did have me actually rehearse a strip-tease for her so she could critique it,"  she laughed, "and then she made me do it over and over again until I got it right."  There was a pause, and Ari giggled.  "And we won't even talk about the carrot."

"I thought you seemed awfully deft tonight, not to mention self-confident.  Her techniques may be unconventional, but they must be effective to have taught you so much."

Ari smirked.  "Oh, you haven't seen half of what she taught me."

"Do I get to find out about the rest of these erotic secrets?"  I asked breathlessly.

"If you keep treating me right you will.  Of course, she said some things take a lot of practice to get good at."

"I've got time," I replied.

By "Sunfish" - Tue 24/12/02 13:30:53 GMT

Website:

So, my Christmas present to all of you is a new 4-part story series, starting with R1.  (My Internet access is a bit dicey right now, so the installments may dribble in one at a time over the next week or so.)

As usual, this series draws on a mix of real experience, wishful exaggeration, and utter fabrication - but I’ll never tell which is which.  ;-)  However, this one begins in a bit lighter, more innocent tone than some of my other pieces, even to the point of (gasp!) including a conventional swimsuit here and there.  This series is directed toward those of you for whom the context and situation of a wetting is as important as the actual clothing. (It’s clear from previous discussions on the old forum that I’m not the only one who feels that way).  These stories may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I hope some of you enjoy them, and perhaps even get a touch of nostalgia for events that could have taken place in your own school years - regardless of whether they actually did.

FOA Todd:  This forum handles formatting a bit differently than the old Bravenet software, but if I figured everything right you should still be able to do a ViewSource, then cut-and-paste, and capture all the paragraphing correctly.

- "Sunfish"