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*This one has lot of build-up that will pay-off down the road*
I first met Aimee when she was 15. She was the kid sister of Maggie, one of my best friends in college. Though she had braces and gangly limbs befitting her age, three things were crystal clear from the first time we met: Aimee was cute, she was funny, and we had instant chemistry. I played it cool out of deep respect for statutory rape laws and, of course, my friendship with Maggie.
Aimee and I crossed paths every year or two thereafter, first when she would visit Maggie at college and later to celebrate Maggie at her grad school graduation and her wedding. In that time, Aimee lost her braces, grew into her body, and sharpened her killer sense of humor. Every time I saw her, we would laugh, flirt, and disappear into our own universe apart from the din surrounding us, though nothing physical ever happened between us.
Fast forward a couple more years. I was now 28. Maggie and I lived in the same city once again, across the country from where we went to college. Maggie's husband, Clint, was several years older than us and several income levels higher than us, so while I was still in my apartment-dwelling days, he and Maggie had moved into an awesome house in the hills on the edge of town, with a terraced backyard anchored by a pool with an infinity edge overlooking the city. I was a regular at their house and we hung out around the city often.
Immediately after graduating from college that May, Aimee drove cross country and moved into Maggie and Clint's place while she got her feet wet in town.
I heard about the move from Maggie, but I hadn't yet seen Aimee when my phone lit up with a text from her around noon on July 4.
Aimee: Do you have plans today? We're grillin and chillin by the pool. Fireworks should be epic from here.
Me: Just got back from a morning hike with some buds. Haven't really finalized a plan for the rest of the day.
Aimee:[Attached was a picture snapped from her point-of-view, reclined on a pool lounger with her glistening tanned legs propped up in the foreground, the pool and distant cityscape in the background]
Aimee: Hot dogs or legs?
Me: Haha. Truly can't tell from this angle. Guess I'll have to come find out.
Aimee: Yay! See you soon!
I changed into swim trunks and a kitschy American flag tank top, grabbed a 6-pack of IPA from the fridge, and drove the 20 minutes to Maggie and Clint's.
I pulled into the driveway next to where Clint was loading a couple of bags and lawn chairs into the back of his SUV.
I rolled down my window. "Hey, you guys heading out?" I asked.
"Hey man! Maggie didn't tell me you were coming. We're driving out to my aunt's for a family reunion in about an hour. She didn't tell you?"
"Oh, weird. Aimee actually invited me. She didn't mention the family reunion though. I thought we would just be hanging out here and grilling."
"Oooh, Aimee said she didn't want to go. I guess you're here to give her an excuse not to. Anyways, I just threw some dogs on the grill. Head around back and have at 'em. I'll be back there in a few."
I got out of the car, grabbed the 6-pack, and headed around the side of the house. I faintly heard Tom Petty playing from around back as I let myself through the gate. Coming around the side of the house as the music increased in volume, I found Maggie tending to the grill on the upper patio next to the house while Aimee played fetch with Arnold, Clint's beloved yellow lab, five feet below us on the long strip of grass that comprised the next level of terrace. Below that level lay the third and lowest terrace, with a row of loungers and the long rectangular infinity pool. Beyond that, a million-dollar view of the city with the shoreline far in the distance.
"Wow," I said as I sidled up to Maggie, "that view never disappoints. Happy Fourth!"
"Hey! Happy Fourth!" she said, setting down her tongs and picking up a red Solo cup. "Aimee said she was going to text you, but I didn't know you were coming. These hot dogs are just about ready. Clint and I have to head to his aunt's in about an hour, but you guys should enjoy the sun! Seems like it's been a month since we had a full day without rain."
"Aimee! Tom's here!" she called out.
My heart skipped a beat as Aimee climbed the handful of steps up to the patio and came fully into view. It had been a couple of years since I last saw her at Maggie and Clint's wedding, and she had continued blossoming from that cute kid I met so many years ago into a stunning 22-year-old woman. Her black hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, oversize sunglasses rested above her forehead, and a wide smile shone across her pretty face. A tiny purple bikini clung to her slender 5'5" frame. Her small, perky B-cups were covered by skimpy triangles of fabric, connected by strings tied behind her neck and back. Her bikini bottom was a low-rise number, the strings slung around her hips to hold up a minuscule piece of fabric starting impossibly low on her flat tummy and disappearing in a point between her legs. I drank it all in as she sprang toward me, arms outstretched for a hug.
"Tom! You're here!" Aimee threw herself into a bear hug around my neck.
"Easy there, tiger! It's great to see you."
Stepping back and lowering her hands to my upper arms, Aimee looked me over and exclaimed, "Dang, dude! Where did you get these pythons?"
I've always been in decent shape, but it was true that I had been hitting the gym particularly hard over the last year or so, with good results. I blushed a little and did my best to take it modestly and change the subject. "Aw, yeah, I've been working out a bit. You look great too! How is life on the best coast treating you?"
Maggie interjected, mock derision in her voice. "Her life is amazing. She sleeps until 10 everyday, then lounges by the pool until 6, eats all our food, then starts it all over again the next day."
"That's not true," Aimee protested, "I also spend a lot of time on Instagram and playing with Arnold."
We were all laughing as Clint came around the house.
"Are those hot dogs ready yet?" he asked.
"Yeah, everybody grab a plate!" Maggie ordered.
We filled our plates and grabbed drinks. Maggie and Clint sat at the round dining table on the patio. Aimee was headed toward the stairs and turned to ask, "Want to eat down by the pool, Tom?"
"Yeah, let's do it," I replied.
Following her down the stairs as she carefully balanced her plate and drink, I had a perfect opportunity to inspect her backside. With broad shoulders, a tiny waist, and flared hips, she struck a consummate hourglass figure. Her small, round butt swayed with her each step.
We reached the pool level and eased into two loungers facing out toward the pool and the view beyond.
I broke the silence. "Man, this view gets me every time. You were right that the fireworks will be epic up here. Not a bad life you're living, Miss Aimee."
"Not gonna lie, it's been pretty sweet, but I need to start pulling my weight soon. After the holiday break I'm going to start looking for a job. If you know anyone hiring entry-level sales or marketing, let me know."
We turned our attention to our food and started eating. After a minute or so, I plucked my hot dog out of its bun and held it out toward the sky.
"Hmm, this doesn't quite look like the picture you sent. Maybe it's just the grill marks though?"
Laughing, Aimee replied, "yeah, I sent the pic before they were grilled. Just a coupla raw wieners, ya know."
"Oh really? So you like wiener pics then?"
"Depends on the wiener, Tom. Depends on the wiener."
"Noted," I chuckled, marveling at how quickly Aimee and I fall into this flirtatious chemistry every time we see each other. I was beginning to think that living in the same city might just turn into something pretty fun.
We finished our lunch and carried our plates up to the house just as Maggie and Clint stepped out and bade us farewell. "Have fun, lovebirds," Clint teased, drawing an elbow in the ribs from Maggie. "And Aimee, please please please try to take Arnold out by 8:00 in the mornings. It's only for two days until we're back, and you can go right back to bed afterward."
"Aye aye, captain," Aimee replied.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a sun-drenched, classic rock-laden, beer-soaked haze. An 80's-style montage of the day would feature snippets of us downing beers, throwing balls for the dog, jumping into the pool, and floating around with the occasional playful touch or tickle when our floaties intersected.
The day was nearly gone when I slipped off my inner tube and waded over to the infinity edge, forearms crossed on the wall in front of me as I watched the red sun sink toward to the water on the distant horizon. Springsteen was playing in the background.
I stood there for a couple minutes, entranced by the sunset, when suddenly I felt Aimee sidle up to the wall not one inch to my right.
"This has been a great day," I said.
"Yeahhhh," she sighed dreamily.
We stood there for a few moments, side by side, enjoying the view.
Aimee broke the silence. "Truth or dare?"
"Truth."
"Hmm," she said, biting her lip, "do you like this bikini?"
"I have never liked a bikini more. Shame there's not more of it."
She laughed. "Isn't that part of the appeal?"
"I guess you're right. Truth or dare?"
"Truth," she picked.
"Is this what you had in mind when you texted me today?"
She blushed. "Kinda."
"Kinda?"
"Kinda," she repeated, "but maybe more like this."
She turned toward me, spinning on her left foot and nudging me back slightly to take her place facing me. She reached up and clasped her hands behind my neck.
"Mmm, this is better," I purred. I put my hands on her hips and ran them up her back as I pulled her toward me. Our mouths parted and eyes closed as we locked lips. We kissed for half a minute or so, sensually probing each other's mouth with our tongues.
I pulled back and looked into Aimee's eyes. "Damn, girl. You're a good kisser."
"You are too."
We dove back into it, hands roaming each other's backsides, kissing like we could make up for seven years of mutual crushing in five minutes.
We were interrupted by the first POP of fireworks in the vicinity, followed by half a dozen more in quick succession. The sun had just dipped below the water and the pyrotechnics were underway.
"Should we head up to the chairs to watch the fireworks?" I asked.
"Yeah," Aimee said, "You get us set up down here and I'll run up and get some snacks from the house."
We waded back across the pool. When we got to the steps, I paused for a second to let Aimee go first. Chivalry? No, I wanted to watch her butt as she climbed out of the pool, and I was rewarded by her skimpy, wet bikini clinging to every curve and crevice of her backside as she climbed out.
I wasn't the only one feasting on eye candy though. She turned around the second she made it to the deck, her eyes glued to my crotch as I climbed out. Her prize was my soaked trunks outlining a full boner in stark relief against my leg.
As I stepped up onto the deck, she leaned in for one more quick kiss, gently resting her right hand atop my cock for maybe two seconds--not stroking, not squeezing, merely (and wonderfully) acknowledging--before uttering a quick "be right back," biting her lip, and hightailing it up the steps.
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