The CP - More Than Words

The CP is intended to be an anthology series, one that I will add new stories to periodically; probably every few weeks. Each story will be stand-alone and have its own main characters, though some people will appear in several tales. The connective tissue is provided by a public pool, located in an East Coast college town.

The protagonists are people who work at the pool or visit it. The stories are planned to span a number of different Literotica categories.

A brief introduction to both the series and the pool may be viewed here.

F. S.

I was following her long, braided ponytail, as mesmerized as any cobra had ever been by a pungi. I'd seen her before of course. It was hard not to notice. Admittedly we were both habitually at the pool early, when it was quiet. This was before class for me and - I kind of assumed - for her as well. It was the twilight zone between Memorial Day and college closing for the Summer, and on weekdays the pool was only open to Marshall College students and people taking swim classes. I think they struggled to find enough lifeguards to cover a greater number of visitors until the high school was out. But she would have stood out in even the largest of crowds.

It had been a happy coincidence that I'd parked my battered Corolla while she had done the same with her equally disreputable Jetta. I wasn't stalking her, but by luck I ended up walking the fifty or so yards to the gate in her wake.

She was tall, and her willowy, yet muscular legs seemed to span an infeasible length between her khaki shorts and white flip-flops. The shorts themselves weren't immodest, as far as these things go, yet just tight enough for me to appreciate the undulations of her ass as she walked. But it was the rhythmic, sinusoidal sway of her hair that obsessed me. She had a lot of it, the color somewhere on a spectrum between light brown, and dark strawberry blonde. It was thick, and her lengthy braid looked like it could do service as a mooring line for a large ship.

Her wide-necked shirt revealed bright purple shoulder straps, I had noticed that her swimsuits were always purple or dark blue. They also tended to be at the minimalist end of athletic. She carried a similarly purple Bogg bag, then it seemed that few people didn't nowadays.

She reached the front desk and pulled out a card. I kept a respectful distance. I would have loved to have caught her voice, imagining it to be as smooth as her graceful swimming strokes, but she and the guy behind the glass simply exchanged a wave.

I stepped forward, handing over my own ID, and was admitted with an, "Enjoy your swim." Replying, "Thanks," I walked to the changing rooms. My parking lot 'friend' disappeared into the women's room as I approached the men's. An intemperate and frankly creepy thought of following her crossed my mind, before I told myself not to be a douche.

As fate would have it, we both left our respective locker rooms at the same time. I obviously registered in her peripheral vision as she turned to her right, looked at me, and nodded in recognition. Her orange swim cap was distended at the back by her mass of hair, giving her a slight alien look.

To be critical, her face lacked perfect proportions; her brow was on the large side, and its extent seemed to cramp her lower face. But she returned my smile warmly, in a way that suggested equanimity of temperament. We had gone through similar wordless rituals on other occasions. Today, something moved me to speak.

"Hi, I'm Logan," I said rather nervously, extending an arm toward her.

She took my hand, shook it warmly enough while smiling back, but then turned and walked toward the pool without saying a thing. Part of me was flummoxed by her mixed messages, the rest couldn't take my eyes off her toned butt, shown off by her thong one piece, purple as I had noted earlier. The grace and - to my mind at least - sensuality with which she walked to the pool's edge was only exceeded by her porpoise-like plunge into the water, scarcely causing a ripple. She had completed half a length of powerful, elegant front crawl before I took my next breath.

A pressure in my jammers made me guiltily seek both the cover and shrinking effect of cool water, and I dove in as well. I'm a strong swimmer, but I hadn't quite reached thirty meters before she passed me on her return length. I'd seen her prowess in the water before, but there was something physical about the way she powered fluidly past me, not an ounce of effort wasted. My own strokes felt frenzied and uneconomic by comparison; it was like she had been born to swim.

And so we plowed our parallel furrows for many minutes. It seemed she did four lengths for each of my three. Turning at the far end, I saw a flash of purple and assumed she had finished her session. Slightly self-consciously, I switched to breaststroke, all the better for binocular vision. As I neared her, I could see her shoulders heaving. It was at least some comfort to my pride that she had clearly put a lot of effort into her swim. And her face was even more scrunched up from her exertions, her nose wrinkled.

She stood dripping and arms akimbo, a sharp 'V' of violet pulled tight against her crotch, leaving her disdain for pubic hair beyond any doubt, and barely covering her most intimate organs. The chestpiece of her swimsuit was more modest; a plain amethyst panel, drawn tight over sculpted flesh and two modest mounds, which were rising and falling with her deep breaths. From my angle, she seemed impossibly tall and her body impossibly sleek, her slightly tanned flesh accentuated by a thousand droplets.

Her form was perhaps somewhat removed from the rounded softness and womanly curves prized by many, and her face deviated considerably from more rigorous standards of beauty. But, to me at least, she was perfect. Perfect, but also unattainable.

As if to emphasize this elusive quality, before I reached the poolside, she pivoted right and started to walk. It was clear that she was heading for the diving area. Fully realizing, and somewhat ashamed of, my lemming-like behavior, I hauled myself out of the water and padded in the direction of my nameless muse. My conscience did try to intervene, but my fascination for the woman was too great.

I reached the side pool just in time to see her execute a perfect forward somersault from one of the two low springboards. Once more it seemed as if the water parted smoothly at her command. I rated my diving more than my swimming, and testosterone was getting the better of my higher mental functions at this point. I ascended the ladder to the high springboard.

I could see the eyes of the lifeguard on me. I recognized her. She rather stood out as the only black guard, and she was also older than most of the rest. I'd seen her swim too, and she rivaled Purple Girl for both competence and grace. She was now smiling reassuringly at me. It helped a little.

I reached the end of the board. It had been a while, maybe two years, and the height seemed greater than I had remembered. Or maybe my teen self had had a more relaxed relationship with fear. But, glancing down, I saw the subject of my - probably unhealthy - obsession turn and look up as she made her way to the ladder on the opposite side of the pool. No way was I not going to make the dive now.

I considered an unadorned plunge. But I felt that I had to at least try to match the complexity of her movements. Taking a deep breath, I hopped, bounced, felt myself swing up and forward, and managed to remember to tuck, letting angular momentum do the rest. Feeling that I'd timed it right, I re-extended my body and nailed the entry. Sure I'd made more of a splash than her, then I was a lot heavier I told myself, as I surfaced spluttering.

At first I couldn't see my intended audience, then she came into view, standing beside the lifeguard on the right, and clapping. This was positive. She made some complicated hand signal to the woman sitting above her, who reciprocated. I wondered whether it was some sorority thing. Then my diving partner headed for the boards again, walking past the two low ones and beginning to climb the highest.

I made for the poolside ladder and turned once I was on dry land. She leaped, and her body became a whirring blur. Was that three rotations I had counted? Fuck! Again her entry was flawless and she surfaced smiling. I began to feel that things were going well. But it was also clear what I had to do next. I walked around to the other side of the pool, and began my second ascent.

As I climbed, there was a beeping sound, and the lifeguard picked up a walkie talkie. She seemed concerned about what she heard, putting the handset down heavily, and an expression of indecision crossed her face. She looked at both me and the woman in purple, and seemed to reach a conclusion. Either way, she got down from her perch and started to run back toward the main complex, taking the communicator with her.

Sitting on the side of the pool, the other woman shrugged, then looked at me expectantly. I didn't what to disappoint her. My mind raced to different dives I had done in my teens. Yes! That one maybe. I signaled her a thumbs up, walked to the end of the board, and turned one eighty. This had been my pièce de résistance in high school. I could still do it, surely.

I bounced, I leaped, I tucked, and then it felt as if my head had been rung like a church bell and everything went black.

I was cursing as I ran, why did I have to deal with this school shit, and why today, of all days. A day when basically no one who was meant to turn up for work at the pool had actually turned up. No, not no one, I told myself. There was Simon, sitting moodily above the main pool with at least three layers of clothes on. But it was just him and me. And now I also had to...

My grumblings were interrupted by a scream. No, not a scream, more the bellowing of an injured animal in agony. It was coming from behind me. I spun around and saw an arm waving frantically from the diving pool! Shit! I should never have left my post, no matter how important the message had been. If I had jogged away from the diving area, now I sprinted back. And I was still fucking fast.

When I saw the two of them in the pool, and the red billowing in the water, my run turned into a flat dive, and I was with them in seconds. Hailey was a strong swimmer and was keeping the guy's head above water. But he was heavy and it took the two of us to get him out of the pool. We laid him on his back, and I listened to his chest. He was breathing and his heart was beating. I was thankful for small mercies. I used my walkie talkie to get help.

Then, sooner than I could have hoped, he opened his eyes, and even spoke.

The light was bright, and hurt my eyes. And my skull pounded. What the fuck had happened? Then two faces resolved, two worried faces, her and the lifeguard.

"Don't try to get up yet," said the lifeguard. "The First Aid And Rescue Squad is two blocks away. They will be here soon. It looks like you messed up the back of your head pretty good. Just lie still."

Her voice was measured and authoritative as she spoke, but also kindly. I decided to do just as she said.

"I'm Harry, by the way," she added.

"Lovely name for a girl," I couldn't resist saying. It got me an eye roll.

"And this is Hailey," she went on.

I managed a weak, "Hi, Hailey." Hailey waved and mouthed 'Hi' silently back.

"But what happened?" I asked more calmly than before. I looked now at Hailey, but she just shook her head.

Harry spoke again, looking at Hailey, and enunciating very distinctly. She was moving her hands in a complex manner again. "What... did... he... do?"

Despite my thumping headache, I suddenly realized that the guard was signing. Looking at the other woman, I said, "You're mute."

I didn't need to understand sign language to comprehend Hailey's signal. A middle finger is pretty universal.

Harry interjected, "I think 'deaf' might be a little less offensive, maybe."

"Sorry," I said, and I really meant it. That got me an 'OK' gesture. Then Hailey began to sign to Harry, at a much faster rate.

Harry nodded, then turned to me. "Hailey says that you were trying a back somersault and didn't clear the board properly. She said you hit yourself pretty hard. And she..."

"She saved me from drowning," I finished. "Can you tell her 'thank you' please?"

"Tell her yourself, she's right there, and she can lip read," replied Harry.

I said, "Thank you so much," slowly and looking into Hailey's eyes. I got a big smile as a response.

"Thank... you... too... Hailey..." added Harry. "I... should... not... have... left... my... post."

A look of questioning crossed Hailey's features, and again she signed furiously.

Harry nodded, and replied still both speaking and signing haltingly. "Yeah... I... might... get... in... trouble."

Hailey's hands moved quickly again, and Harry smiled. "Thanks... but... you... do... not... need... to... do... that. I... will... be... fine."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"Don't worry," said Harry. "The Squad are here, they'll take care of you now."

As they loaded me onto a stretcher, I saw Hailey signing again to Harry.

"What did she say?" I asked.

"Nothing much," replied the lifeguard. "Just to find a better way to impress her next time."

'Next time?' I thought to myself, as they wheeled me away. I kind of liked the sound of that.

I'd needed stitches and had also suffered a concussion. But, as far as the medical people could tell, my overall neurology was no worse than it had been before the accident. But I was under strict orders - no swimming, and definitely no diving, for two weeks. Ten days after the incident, a nurse removed the sutures, and a doctor proclaimed that she was happy with the degree to which the wound had healed. But she finished with the admonition, "No swimming for another week."

This was deflating. After a few days of rest, I'd been confined to my room, and to catching up on notes from classes. I'd also found a new way to occupy my time, but my existence was still pretty soulless, and reinforced to me that I'd only really made acquaintances since starting college, not friends. Friendships were tricky, the ones I had made back home had taken years to forge. I knew I wasn't always the easiest person to be close with.

Sunday evening, I determined that while I might not be able to swim, I could at least go to the pool. I could hope that she was there too. I'd got so used to referring to her by pronouns, that using 'Hailey' felt strange. As I pulled into the parking lot, my heart leaped. In the row closest to the entrance was parked a beaten up old VW, one that I recognized. As I walked to reception, I told myself not to be weird, not to mess this up.

Harry was checking IDs, and asked how I was? Then she said something which gave me hope. "Hailey has been asking about you."

My eyes widening, I wordlessly took my card back and walked into the complex. I could see a ripple in the main pool, a fast moving ripple, accented in dark blue and with a bright orange head.

What should I do? Stand over her lane like a stalker? Drag a chair to the poolside? I'd really not thought this through and began to feel panic rising. I wanted to be anywhere but here, even the solitude of my room was suddenly appealing. My muscles started to contract, beginning to turn my body back to the parking lot, responding to my mental discombobulation.

And then she was there. Arms folded on the side of the pool. She put her goggles on top of her head and looked at me, eyes blinking from the chlorine. For the first time I noticed their color, they were a strange steely gray, I think they call it silver eyed. She formed an 'OK' symbol with her fingers and a look of inquiry on her face.

I nodded, already flubbing what I had practiced so diligently. But her smile brought me back to myself. Here goes nothing, I thought.

Very conscious of what I was doing, I slowly and hesitantly formed my fingers into a sequence of shapes, praying that I didn't get it wrong, and mouthing the words at the same time.

"Thank... you... for... saving... me..."

Hailey gave me a thumbs up, and got out of the water in one fluid movement. And, before I knew what was happening, her arms were around me, and pulling me tight to her. She was dripping wet, but neither of us seemed very bothered.

She stepped back and made a rapid series of gestures. I'd anticipated this and said / signed, "I... am... sorry... I... am... just... learning..."

Hailey grinned and made her hand movements slower, but still all that I could make out was the initial, "You."

I thought that Hailey must be exasperated with me, but clearly she was used to this problem. She pantomimed listening to a phone, and I got the message, pulling mine out and handing it to her.

Despite her wet fingers, she opened Note and typed, holding up the result for me to see.

Want to get a coffee?"

I nodded vigorously, and she typed some more.

There is a place down the street, can I finish my session?

I knew this one. I placed an index finger over my lips and moved it toward Hailey, getting a delighted grin. Again she typed:

Your accent sucks, but thanks for trying ????

We both laughed, and Hailey gestured to the pool with her eyes. I did my, obviously lumpen, 'Sure' again and she dove in. Thinking I'd give her some space, I went and sat on a bench between the two changing room entrances, and tried to occupy myself with my phone.

Based on my previous experience of her, it appeared that Hailey had abbreviated her workout, and soon enough she was walking past me dripping and with a towel wrapped around her. I got a smile and her extended hand showing five fingers splayed as an indication that she would not be long.

The coffee shop was nice, typical for a college town, organic beans from Colombian farmers' collectives, a rainbow banner hanging, locally baked cakes and bread. The clientele seemed to be a mix of college kids, faculty, and affluent retirees.

Hailey motioned for me to sit, and I was proud that I understood her signed, "What would you like?"

Not knowing whether there was a specific sign and thinking that my fingers were too clumsy to spell it out, I mouthed, 'Espresso,' and held up two fingers. Hailey understood.

She appeared to know the girl behind the counter and the two of them had a lengthy, manual conversation, before Hailey came and sat down with me, bringing us each a glass of water.

She pointed at my phone and I gave it to her. Her thumbs flicked over the screen for a few seconds and I read what she had typed.

Thank you for trying to communicate. I know it's not easy, I appreciate it. I can lip read well if you keep looking at me. But we will have to figure out how I talk to you, OK?

I felt my heart fluttering at the future tense Hailey had used. I'm terminally shy, but felt compelled to comment. Maybe typing made it easier. Beneath her text I wrote:

Like if we went on a date sometime?

I got a frown which I took to be a mock one, and she slowly mouthed words that even I could discern.

"This... is... a... date..."

We both laughed. As our coffees arrived - Hailey had something milky, it was hard to tell what - I remembered that there was another sentence I had committed to memory. I tried to sign it, thinking that I probably got something wrong in the middle. "I... will... try... to... learn..."

That provoked the biggest smile yet. Hailey took the phone, typed into the screen, and handed it back to me.

Do you like to fuck? I like to fuck.

Flabbergasted was an understatement of my reaction. I felt like all my bones had turned to jello and I just looked at Hailey in open-mouthed shock.

She made both of her hands into 'V' signs, turned one up, and the other down, before repeatedly pushing the upper one down and forward over the lower. As she did this, her lips formed the one word, 'Fuck,' a look that I could only describe as mischievous on her face.

Trembling, I made both hands into upturned fists and extended my thumbs and pinkies, making a downward movement with what I hoped was a questioning look on my face.

In reply, to my attempted, 'Now? Hailey showed me how to do 'Sure' properly.

We left our coffees undrunk and scrambled out of the shop. As we reached the sidewalk, Hailey pulled me to her and we kissed, and it was such a kiss. A fireworks and Handel's Messiah kiss, though maybe the latter analogy was inappropriate in the circumstances, I reflected.

Hailey pulled back, grinning and with her face as flushed as I knew mine must be. She took my hand and pulled me down the road. We half walked, half ran for two blocks and stopped in front of what I knew to be a sorority house. Another rainbow flag hung over the entrance.

Hailey kissed me again and I didn't need words to understand that I should accompany her up the steps and then to her room on the second floor.

Hailey had already clearly demonstrated that she was the sort of woman who took the initiative. As she closed the door behind her, she flung her bag to one side, immediately peeled her T shirt off, and dropped her shorts. She wore no bra and her small, flat breasts were the only evidence of fat anywhere on her long, slender body.

I was rooted to the spot for a few seconds, which got me a frustrated look from my new friend. Having just about the presence of mind to respond, I began to undress, and Hailey unceremoniously pulled off her panties. As I had guessed, she was smooth and hairless. Her toned, sleek form brought a statue to mind.

I was struggling with my clothes, and realized that I should have taken off my sneakers before pulling down my pants. But Hailey again took control, stepping to me and kissing me once again. We were pretty much the same height and our faces met naturally. Then Hailey slipped a hand down the front of my boxers and gripped the hardness they contained. I gasped at her touch, and then again as she squeezed my root, our lips pressed together.

My pants still around my ankles and my shoes still on my feet, Hailey dragged me to her bed and pushed me down onto it, on my back and with my feet on the floor, knees bent. She pulled my boxers down as well, and then took a condom from her nightstand, expertly rolling it down me.

I'd only done this a few times before, but Hailey seemed to be more experienced. She climbed over me, took my shaft in her hand, and guided it to her opening as she lowered herself onto me. I almost wept at the look of intense pleasure that swept across Hailey's face as I slipped into her.

Then she started to lift herself up and down, her taut core balancing her body, her hands squeezing her modest breasts. And it was all I could do to try to hold on as long as I could for her.

As Hailey rode me, the room was filled with the sound of our bodies slapping together and our increasingly heavy breathing. Her vaginal walls were smooth and slick. Her soft warmth and tightness massaged me in a way that I knew I would only be able to cope with for a short time. I bit my lip and tried to contain my spiralling feelings, to focus on her needs.

Hailey kept fucking me, her eyes now closed, her head lolling back, and her lips pressed firmly together. And her wet ponytail, the one that I had admired so many days ago, lashed from side to side in heavy resonance with her rhythmic exertions. Hailey's sculpted body was all I could dream of and her love making was so uncomplicated and intense. I knew I couldn't hold back for longer than a few more seconds.

Then she stiffened and the first sound I had heard her make burst from her throat. A feral, primal sound as her climax rolled through her. And with that, I too let go, thrusting up hard into her and letting the burning pulsing sensations overwhelm me as I pumped and pumped into my lover.

For a few moments, we stayed just like that; Hailey impaled on my still twitching shaft, as her features slowly relaxed, and her expression turned from intensity to a satisfied smile. She opened her eyes and made an 'OK' sign, a grin on her face.

To this day, I don't know what came over me, but before my brain could intervene, I had breathed, "I love you."

Immediately I felt horrified that I had been so demonstrative, so needy. But Hailey smiled, and pointed to each ear, her head shaking.

'Thank God,' I thought to myself. Then she winked and blew me a kiss, leaving me once more embarrassed and confused.

Hailey reached down, held the condom in place, and pulled herself off of me slowly. The sheath was streaked with white, and for a second I worried that it had broken, before realizing it was only Hailey's excited secretions. Leaving the condom in place, she grabbed her own phone, lay down next to me, and typed. When she handed it to me, my fearful awkwardness evaporated.

A little early for love, don't you think? But I do like you. And I really liked that.

Hailey kissed my cheek and then slowly mouthed, "Can... we.. do... that... again...?"

I signed 'Now?' and got a giggle. She typed again:

I meant another time, but if you feel like it, then...

I looked up from the screen. Hailey finished her sentence by placing a finger to her lips and then moving it toward me.

'Perhaps,' I thought to myself, 'with Hailey at least, I might just be able to manage round two.'

THE END

I am not deaf and neither do I know any deaf people. This story is intended to portray deafness in a positive light. I have done my best to research the area, but if I have misstepped at any point, please tell me in a comment or message, and I will rectify any mistake.