Chapter 5: Swimming Lessons

The massage session left me languid, my body humming like a plucked string. Leena, too, was draped in a dreamy haze, sprawled beside me on the bed. The air conditioner's misty breath kissed my skin, coaxing me to slip into an orange crinkle crop top and a matching knee-length skirt. The feather-light fabric danced over my curves, skimming my midriff to bare my toned navel. Without bra or panties, the airy set felt like a whisper of nudity, teasing my breasts and brushing my thighs with every step. My dense pubic hair stirred beneath, a secret only the mirror knew. The outfit was modest enough—my navel peeked out only when I stretched, and my bareness was a hidden thrill, veiled by a single layer of cloth. I savoured the sensation, curling my toes against the cool sheets, my mind replaying the daring escapades since the UK job offer unshackled my desires.

Freedom was my aphrodisiac, a velvet flame igniting my side B. I had a month to shed my virginity—not lose it, but claim it as my own. Sam was my target, but the trip had spiraled into uncharted waters. Jignesh’s audacious touch and Somsak’s unexpected revelation had stirred my curiosity, yet my mission remained: seduce Sam without tarnishing my good-girl image. No slut-shaming, just calculated allure.

My phone buzzed, slicing through my reverie. Sam’s voice crackled with urgency. “Maya, come to Guru’s room—quick. It is serious.”

“I am on my way,” I replied, nudging Leena awake. We sprang up, my crop top bouncing with my unrestrained breasts, the skirt swishing against my thighs like a lover’s caress. Leena, in a loose shirt and Bermuda shorts, looked tomboyish, unfazed by my attire. We sprinted through the resort’s corridor, my nipples teasing the thin fabric, drawing stares from men on balconies. A drowsy-eyed guy—the one who had ogled me at the mechanical bull—froze, his gaze tracing the jiggle of my chest. I ignored him, my focus locked on Riya and Guru. What had the nerd couple done now?

Inside Guru’s room, Riya sat trembling, wrapped in a blanket, her chubby frame shaking. Tears fogged her specs as Guru dried her damp hair with a towel, guilt etched on his face. Sam and Jignesh stood nearby, murmuring.

“What happened?” I asked, catching my breath. I took the towel from Guru, drying Riya’s hair. My crop top rode up, flashing my navel, its glistening dip catching Jignesh’s eye like a moth to a flame. I handed the towel to Leena and turned to Sam.

“Guru and Riya cannot swim,” he explained, “but they went to the private pool, thinking the shallow end was safe. Riya slipped into the deep diving area and nearly drowned. The pool staff saved her, but she is shaken.”

Riya’s eyes were red, her breath uneven. “Change the blanket, it is wet,” Leena said, pulling it off. Love bites peeked from Riya’s neckline—red marks trailing to her cleavage, a silent testament to their passion. Leena and I exchanged a knowing smirk.

“I want to go home, Guru,” Riya whispered, voice breaking. “Now.”

“Why? I fell in the lake and survived,” I said, trying to lighten her mood. “Do not panic, Riya.”

“No, when the guards rescued me, my top slipped. My body was exposed to everyone. I am too embarrassed to face them again,” she said, her shame raw.

Leena teased, “If that is the case, Maya should have left days ago.”

I shot her a look. “Shut up.” Turning to Riya, I added, “Do what feels right, Riya. I understand.”

Guru pulled out his phone. “I will book a cab. We will leave as soon as possible.”

Empathy stirred me. “Let us cancel the outing. We will all go back together,” I offered.

Riya’s eyes softened. “No, you guys stay and have fun. I just need to be home.”

Guru checked his phone, his face falling. “No cabs available today.” He turned to Jignesh. “Can you drive us back in your car?”

Jignesh’s jaw tightened, his eyes lingering on my hips where the skirt hugged my skin, as if losing his chance to leer was the real tragedy. He stayed silent.

“Jigs, she is uneasy here. Can you not help?” Sam pressed, their eyes locking in a silent exchange.

“Jigs, please,” Riya pleaded.

“Fine, I will drop you,” Jignesh relented, grabbing his keys.

I stepped in, my smile calculated. “That is kind of you, Jigs. For this, I will throw a party for you, Riya, and Guru another day. Promise.” Inside, relief washed over me—Jignesh’s departure erased the memory of his violation at Sam’s house, his hand on my breast, his cum marking my skin.

They packed hastily and left, their car fading at the hairpin bend. A weight lifted—thank God he was gone. That promised party would never happen.

I turned to Leena and Sam. “Let us not mope. I am starving. Lunch, then snooker. We are having fun!” I clapped, my boobs bouncing slightly, the skirt flashing a sliver of thigh. Sam’s eyes traced my navel, his smile wide now that he had me to himself. He wore a tattered t-shirt with holes and graffiti, his pants torn at the knees.

Leena and I burst out laughing. “You look like a beggar, Sam,” she mocked.

“It is fashion,” he protested.

We made him sit on the floor and snapped a pic. “Have a look,” I said, stifling giggles.

He sighed. “Fine, I will change.”

“No way, you are cool as a cucumber,” I teased, pushing him toward the dining area. “I am casual too.”

At lunch, I sat across Sam, Leena beside me. The armless chairs sparked a wicked idea. With my legs spread, my bare pussy was a hidden secret, my knees brushing Sam’s occasionally, sending sparks to my core. The absence of panties amplified the thrill, my lips rubbing subtly as I shifted. Hey, Sam, look under the table. I have got a surprise, my side B whispered. But I held back—deliberate exposure would taint my image. Instead, I savoured the clandestine arousal, shaking my legs to let my pussy lips tease each other. In a crowded restaurant, I felt deliciously nude, yet safe in my modest attire. The secret drove me wild. I decided to bask in this all day.

We planned snooker for a relaxing game, but at the game room, three workers were renovating the floor. A staff member approached. “Ma’am, we are installing glass flooring on the ground level. It is not accessible, but the first-floor deck is ready.”

The deck gleamed with transparent flooring. “Wow, it is cool, but will it hold us?” Leena asked, excited.

“It can withstand three tonnes, Ma’am,” the staff assured.

“No, Leena, let us play something else,” I said, panic rising. My panty-less state and skirt made glass flooring a risky stage.

“Come on, Maya, you will not drown,” Sam teased, climbing the stairs with Leena.

“It is tested, Ma’am,” the staff urged.

You will be tested if I climb now, I thought, eyeing the workers below. The glass stairs reflected the secret between my thighs. The workers seemed focused, but my heart raced. Thrilling, but dangerous. I stood like a cat on a wall, weighing my options.

“We are starting!” Sam called.

With no choice, I ascended, keeping my legs crossed tightly. My eyes darted between the workers and the game. Leaning over the table required spreading my legs for balance, but I restricted every move, giving Sam and Leena an edge. As I bent for a shot, my crop top lifted, exposing the soft curve of my underboob to Sam, who stood opposite. His eyes widened, a flicker of desire crossing his face, unaware of my panty-less secret. I caught his gaze, a silent thrill pulsing through me, my mission to seduce him reignited. Leena, focused on her shot, noticed nothing. Then I saw the workers installing reflective mirrors below. They have seen my bare thighs and bum already. The realisation sparked excitement. I relaxed, letting my legs part slightly, offering a veiled glimpse of my hairy region to the workers. Let them imagine the details. Their covert glances, pretending to work, fuelled my thrill. For my final shot, I lifted one leg, extending the cue. Their mouths gaped as I pocketed the ball, winning.

“That is how it is done,” I said, descending the stairs, avoiding the workers’ eyes but feeling victorious. I had turned into an exhibitionist, willingly yet unknowingly, while keeping Sam’s focus on my subtle tease.

It was evening. “Sam, change that beggar costume for the poolside dinner,” I insisted.

Leena headed to our room, and I followed, buzzing with thrill. The manager had mentioned exquisite wines and vodkas. Leena drank, a family custom, but alcohol made me wary—it dulled my control. Why not pretend to drink and act drunk? The idea was perfect: guilt-free seduction, blaming the booze. I planned to send Leena to our room, stumble to Sam’s, and let my side B take over.

Leena buzzed around, disrupting my plotting. “Lee, what if your masseuse was a trans like Somsak?” I teased.

“Never!” she snapped.

“You cannot know for sure. You Masseuse saw you nude. She maybe a 'he'? I doesn't matter now,” I laughed.

“It matters to me,” she huffed, slamming the door.

Alone, I refined my plan. The poolside dinner would be private—Sam, Leena, and me. They would drink; I would fake it. After, I would ensure Leena slept in our room, then “accidentally” go to Sam’s, letting desire unfold. He would enjoy it, drunk or sober, but I would steer the show, feigning inebriation.

Leena returned in fifteen minutes, panting. “I saw her—my masseuse!”

“So, a female. Why the panic?”

“I barged into her room to confront her. She was getting fucked by a trans masseuse, murmuring, ‘Loving it, Ma’am? Fuck you, Ma’am.’”

“Probably Somsak, fantasising about me,” I smirked.

“They did not see me. My masseuse was glued to threesome porn on TV. I sneaked out like a kitten,” she gasped.

“Wish they had caught you. That would be hilarious,” I laughed.

“I caught them,” she retorted, resting her hand on me. I shifted, and she accidentally groped my braless breast.

“Maya!” Her other hand confirmed, touching both. “You have been roaming like this?”

I grinned. “Down there too.”

“No way. You played snooker on glass flooring with men below?” She yanked my skirt down. “Shameless!”

“I was casual in our room. We rushed for Riya. Not intentional, Lee.”

“You should have told me before snooker,” she said, eyes locked on mine.

“I enjoyed the thrill. What could go wrong with you around?”

She shook her head, heading to the bathroom. “I need to loo.”

For half an hour, the hand shower hissed. “I know what you did,” I teased when she emerged.

“Did what?”

“You saw someone fucking. You would have done the same what I would do in your shoes. It is natural, Lee.”

“Maybe. What you are doing is not natural. You are risking yourself,” she snapped, storming out. “I am going for a walk. We will talk later.”

Our spats were not new for us; we would reconcile soon. I focused on my outfit: a rose-printed tiered tunic top with full sleeves and a pleated, asymmetric, full-length skirt. Elegant, skin-covering, perfect for Leena’s approval, less so for Sam’s desire. I wore boxer panties to my thighs, and a laced deep orange floral bra, honouring my promise to Leena.

She returned later, zombie-like, ignoring my outfit. “Leena, can we end this spat?”

“Promise you will stop public show-offs.”

“Fine, mother,” I sighed, feigning disappointment.

She sat beside me, arm around my shoulders. “Maya, I am always with you. Do what you want with Sam—he is safe. But do not risk yourself with strangers.”

Her concern was genuine. “Okay,” I nodded.

“Let me get ready,” she said, slipping into a classic lehenga, elegant yet modest.

“Heading to a wedding?” I teased.

She rolled her eyes. “It is 8:00 p.m. Let us go.”

I flashed my boxer panties in the corridor. “Trust me, Lee. I am keeping my promise.”

The rooftop pool was a secluded oasis, shielded by bamboo and foliage, lit by lanterns under a starlit sky. The dining table, draped in white linen, gleamed with seafood: grilled prawns, buttery lobster tails, raw oysters, and crab cakes, their aromas mingling with premium wines and vodka. A silver bell ensured staff discretion until midnight.

Sam sauntered in, floral shirt unbuttoned, chest bare, shorts screaming beach party. My tunic and skirt hugged my curves, Leena’s lehenga glowed traditionally. Sam’s eyes raked my outfit, a hungry glint sparking.

We dove into the seafood. I poured water into my glass, pretending it was vodka. “To my UK job!” I toasted, smirking inside.

We clinked glasses, Leena and Sam sipping Pinot Noir, me mimicking their tipsy sway. Sam waved the vodka. “Shots, ladies?”

I nodded, switching to water but acting buzzed. “Who is up for an oyster challenge?” Sam slurped one like a pro.

I tried with a spoon. “Yuck! Tastes like bird poop!”

“It is a French delicacy, Maya,” Leena said, gulping two before gagging on the third. She bolted to the restroom, returning flushed. “Give me something to kill this taste,” she demanded, downing three vodka shots, her shy facade crumbling.

Slumping into a pool chair, her lehenga fanning out, Leena slurred, “Okay, Mr. Sam, can you beat me in wrestling? Or sumo?” She stood, lifting her lehenga to bare her thighs, striking a sumo pose.

“Not with you, Leena,” Sam laughed, dodging her. His floral shirt flapped, revealing his taut chest.

Vodka-fuelled, Leena lunged, shoving him, fingers grazing his torso. They stumbled, tumbling into the pool with a splash. Leena, a drunken lioness, pounced, her wet lehenga dragging but not slowing her. She wrapped her arms around Sam’s shoulders, pressing close, laughing. Her lehenga and bra shifted, revealing one plump breast, its pink nipple and puffy areola grazing Sam’s face.

“Tap out, Sam!” she demanded, thighs squeezing his sides, her breast flush against his lips with each struggle.

Sam’s eyes widened, amusement mixing with heat. “Leena, come on!” he protested, squirming, hands fumbling to avoid crossing lines.

I stood at the pool’s edge, laughing. Leena, you are stealing my show! Their heads snapped toward me, freezing their wrestling. Leena loosened her grip, her bra askew, nipple still exposed, vodka keeping her shameless. “What is so funny, Maya?”

“Think you can do better, scaredy-cat? Know what a pool party is?” she taunted.

Sipping my water, I feigned a buzz. “Old-school Leena in a lehenga? I would wear a bikini if you were not here, grandma.”

Her eyes narrowed, adjusting her bra. “What is the big deal? Just fancy innerwear. I can wear a swimsuit. Want to bet?”

“Bikini, Leena. Bet you would never,” I challenged.

“I will wear one now if you jump in,” she shot back.

Sam chimed in, sipping beer. “I will help you, Maya. No drowning.”

“Go on, scaredy-cat!” Leena pressed.

Annoyed, I jumped in, water lapping my midriff, skirt clinging to my thighs. I dipped under, drenching my hair, my tunic soaking, orange bra visible, boobs spilling like ripe fruit. “Now what, old book? Where is your bikini?”

Leena climbed out, peeling off her lehenga, standing in bra and panties. Her plump boobs strained, curves bold in the lantern light. Sam’s jaw dropped, beer frozen mid-sip.

“That is my bikini,” Leena declared, smirking. “I won. But I lost to Sam in wrestling, and now this stupid bet. I cannot show my face here!” Embarrassment flooded her, vodka amplifying her shame over losing both the wrestling match she misjudged and the bikini challenge. She grabbed her lehenga, clutching it to her chest, her eyes darting with mortified realisation.

Sam grabbed her hand. “Leena, put your dress on!”

She shook him off, tossing him into the deep end with a German suplex, laughing bitterly as he flailed. “I am done with this!” she snapped, marching out, her wet panties clinging, brushing past gaping staff, slamming her room’s door.

Staff rushed in. I ducked to my neck, hiding my wet body. “We are fine. She lost a challenge,” Sam said.

“Where is she heading?” I asked.

“Your room, Ma’am,” a staff member confirmed.

“Leave us. We will manage her,” I instructed. They left, closing the door.

Sam emerged, wet shirt clinging to his chest. “How did you do that?” I gasped, thighs trembling.

“Swimming underwater,” he grinned.

“Drunk and swimming?” I asked, feigning naivety.

“Muscle memory,” he said. “I will teach you, Maya. Hold the wall, float.”

Clueless, I flailed, toes skimming the tiles. He slipped behind, hands brushing my waist over the wet top, fingers grazing my navel like a soft breeze over a lake. My bum flexed.

“Sway your legs,” he said, hands sliding along my hips. His unbuttoned shirt swayed, blocking his face.

“Your shirt is hindering you,” I murmured, voice sultry with my fake buzz. I slid it off, nails grazing his abs, heat pooling in my pussy.

“Much better,” I purred, meeting his eyes. I tried floating on my back, legs lifting, holding the pool’s edge. I slipped.

Sam’s hands gripped my hips, top sliding to reveal my navel, a glistening pool of water. His fingers brushed my hairy thighs. “Hairy girls are horny,” he teased, voice low, fingers lingering like a painter’s brush.

I laughed. “Not wrong.”

“It is tough teaching you, Maya,” he said, caressing my belly. “This costume is not swim-friendly.”

His hands glided to my cleavage, fingers teasing the tops of my breasts over the bra, my nipples straining. “Try floating again,” he whispered, voice rough.

I leaned into his arms, water lapping my chest. The bra slipped, one dark brown nipple breaking free, glistening like a dewdrop. I let it stay. “This floating is harder than it looks,” I said, coy.

He chuckled, guiding me to float, palm on my bra-clad back, the other cupping my ass over the skirt, kneading like dough. My breasts jiggled, both nipples dancing free, their dark peaks teasing under the lantern light. His smirk drank in my curves.

“Your top is in the way,” Sam said, playful but frustrated. “It is messing with your form. Swimming is about freedom.”

“What, this old thing?” I tugged the top, letting it cling tighter. “Help me out then.”

His hands peeled the wet top off, leaving me in my bra. “Much better. Kick gently.”

“I am kicking,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Feels weird.”

“Swim on your chest,” he urged, voice thick. I rolled, water cradling me. His hands splayed below my bra, brushing the underside of my breasts, electric. His other hand caressed my thighs under the skirt, each stroke a spark. As I kicked, his fingers crept beneath the bra, kneading my breasts, thumb circling my nipples. My core clenched.

“Your skirt is weighing you down,” he said, half-instructing, half-pleading. “It is dragging, Maya.”

“Is it?” I teased. “What is it doing to my swimming, coach?”

“Slowing your kicks,” he replied, easing the skirt down my thighs underwater. It glided off, leaving me in boxer panties, my bush faintly visible.

“Float on your back,” he guided, lifting me, my breasts bobbing, one nipple grazing the water, exposed. “Better?” I asked, kicking, boobs swaying.

“Much,” he said, eyes glinting. “Keep your arms loose.”

“That bra is distracting me,” he added, voice playful. “Those two are playing hide-and-seek, teasing me.”

I smirked. “These two?” I touched my nipples. “What should I do?”

“Stop the teasing,” he said, eyes on my chest where one nipple peeked out again.

I tugged the bra. “Fixed.” But it popped out again.

“It is not working, Maya. That bra is useless.”

“Well, I have another way,” I said, unfastening the front hooks slowly, each click a sensual vow. The bra parted, baring my firm breasts, their curves glistening like polished marble. My nipples stood proud. I slid the bra off, letting it float. “Now it will not tease you.”

His eyes devoured my chest. “Much better,” he murmured.

“Now float,” he said. I leaned back, breasts bobbing, nipples grazing the water. His hands brushed my panties, teasing the skin. “Am I doing it right?” I asked, coy.

“Perfect. Now swim on your chest,” he said, kneading my breasts, his touch igniting my core. We drifted to the deeper end. Feigning fear, I clung to him, breasts pressing against his chest, nipples scraping his skin.

“Sam, it is too deep,” I said, playing nervous. “Do not let me sink.”

“I have got you,” he replied, leading me to the deepest part. I wrapped my legs around his waist, arms around his neck. “Pretend you are swimming.”

Underwater, I nudged his shorts down, his erect cock brushing my thigh, hot and pulsing like a heartbeat. I grabbed it, feigning a squeal. “Oh my God, Sam, I caught a snake!”

He laughed, guiding my palm to his balls. “No snake has balls, Maya.”

“A snake would not be that hard,” I teased, stroking him, savouring the warmth. His hand slid inside my panties, fingers circling my clit, my pussy clenching. He inserted a finger, feeling my softness. I stroked him faster, matching his rhythm. We stood in hip-level water, me topless, mutually masturbating in an open pool—a wild dream unfolding.

“I am done,” he panted, a stream of white cum trailing to the pool’s bottom. He withdrew his finger. Though I was not done, I felt satisfied with my progress, still pretending to be drunk.

The fifteen-minute warning bell rang at 11:45 p.m. We scrambled out, Sam lifter me to the edge, his face grazing my raw breasts, midriff, and navel. I stood, topless, water cascading down my curves, nipples proud, swaying like pendulums. My eyes locked with Sam’s, a seductive glint sparking. I sauntered to my clothes, hips rolling, my topless walk a deliberate tease, my core humming under his gaze. Yet, my intellect whispered restraint—tonight was a step, not the leap. I had to keep Sam wanting, my good-girl image intact.

He swam to retrieve my floating bra, handing it to me. “No time to wear it. Keep it safe, as my memento. I will collect it later,” I said, leaning down to pick my top, breasts dangling, their dark nipples catching the light. I straightened slowly, letting the top dangle, my breasts tingling in the air. I wore it, nipples faintly visible, then the skirt. Sam’s eyes tracked every move, desire thick in the air.

“Thanks for the swimming lessons,” I purred, kissing his lips, my breath warm, then pushed him back into the pool with a laugh.

From the water, he watched, mesmerized, as I collected Leena’s lehenga. I swayed my ass, passing gaping staff. “Time is up, Sir,” they told Sam. He climbed out, hard-on evident, and headed to his room.

Back in my room, Leena slept on the sofa in bra and panties, her plump boobs rising with each breath. I entered the bathroom, stripping off my wet clothes—top, skirt, panties—until I stood naked, fingers sliding through my bush, circling my clit, thrusting deep against the wall, boobs bouncing.

I could have gone to Sam’s room, but my intellect halted me. My phone buzzed—Sam. I answered, fingers still moving. “Are you awake?” he asked, voice husky, mid-moan.

“Sleepy, who is this?” I faked a yawn.

“Sam. Just wanna say good night and a thanks for the poolside dinner.”

“Will talk tomorrow,” I said, waiting for him to hang up.

“Shit, missed my chance,” he muttered before disconnecting.

I laughed, knowing exactly what we had done and what he missed. You will get it in the future, Sam!

Tomorrow, we would meet like nothing happened. Under the shower, I fingered myself to orgasm, satisfying my body but not my craving for the real experience.