Re: The Pool
The boy at the pool's edge sized her up. Scarlet and lace, breasts and curls, she was a pretty picture of sensual pleasure. On a normal day that would have been enough, or he would have told himself it fit into the hole inside like a key in a lock. He would have pulled down her pretty panties and thrust his tongue inside her until she squealed, and he would have been happy for a time.
But that was foreplay. He never got to the second act, not with anyone, but tonight was full of possibilities, of safety measures, of guard rails to make it okay. He was still for a moment, and then he dragged his hand across the water again. It was black as the inside of his eyelids, lying awake at night. "You could be," he said. "You could be mine."
He got up from the ground and walked around her, turning back to reach down for her hand. "Let's go in," he said, as the lover says let's be lovers, and smiled with cracked lips.