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Sarah in the Spa Pool

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Sarah in the Spa Pool By Karen A. I’d had a nightmare day at work. The big deal I was on the verge of pulling off had gone horribly tits up all around me, and it looked like it was going to require a huge amount of work to get it back on track again – assuming I ever could. The day had gone steadily downhill and descended into an unending series of desperate phone calls in a vain attempt to salvage six weeks of painstaking work. By the time I finally left the office and braved the freezing dark rain of a British February it was already nearly eight in the evening, and journey home was the usual depressing, congested nightmare. To make matters worse I was suffering from the double whammy of PMS and boyfriend being a dick syndrome. My normal solution the first (vigorous sex) was rendered impossible by the second (an idiot male who had recently decided he needed “a little more space in our relationship” and decamped to spend some time with his best mate – and, as I later discovered a lot more time with his best mate’s sister; but that’s another story…). Even my old friend Katie, who could normally be relied on for a bit of a giggle and uncomplicated no strings sex, had turned traitor and vanished on a two week skiing holiday with her boyfriend. All in all, by the time I turned the key in the lock of the door of my flat, I was in a pretty miserable mood. Flinging a ready-meal into the microwave, I contemplated my options. The bottle of wine in the rack on the sideboard looked very inviting, but so far I’d kept up my New Year resolution to live a little more healthily and take more exercise, so in the end I decided that a quick after dinner swim and a sauna at the health club would set me up nicely for an early night – and in the absence of the boyfriend being a dick, I would lull myself to sleep with a favourite toy from my sizable collection. Feeling pleased to have not given into temptation and get smashed; I ate a leisurely (if rather tasteless) dinner, grabbed a bikini from the bedroom drawer, and set off to the health club. By the time I got there it was already pushing ten o’clock and the car park was virtually deserted. Clearly only a few hardy souls felt sufficiently motivated to work on their fitness at this time of night on a pouring wet Tuesday night in the middle of winter. I made my way into the reception area and acknowledged the nod of the girl on reception, who reminded me that the club closed in less than an hour. “Don’t worry about that”, I grinned as I negotiated the turnstile at the entrance. “I’m just going to a quick dip to chill out, and I’m off home to bed.” bahis şirketleri She gave me a wry smile that implied she’d infinitely prefer to be tucked up in bed at home than working on a night like this, and turned back to the computer monitor on her desk as I made my way through to the changing rooms. I chucked my clothes into a locker and pulled on my favourite blue bikini. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I thought that perhaps my strict post-Christmas exercise regime was beginning to pay off – my legs and tummy were looking a reasonably toned at last. Excellent! I was going to look hot on the beach that summer and the boyfriend being a dick would kick himself when he realised what he was missing. I realised at the last minute that I’d forgotten to bring any hair bands, and wasted several minutes on a fruitless search of my bag before deciding that I was just going to have to accept that this was not my day, and go in with my long hair loose. The pool was virtually empty, just an elderly couple ploughing a steady and dignified course up and down the slow lane. I dropped into the one reserved for faster swimmers, donned my goggles, and concentrated on getting in my twenty lengths. By the time I had finished, breathing hard from the exertion but feeling the pleasant rush of endorphins charging around my bloodstream, I had the pool to myself, the elderly couple had long gone. I hauled myself out onto the side of the pool and headed for the sauna – a quick bake, shower and home to bed I told myself. Like the pool, the sauna, steam room and spa pool appeared to be deserted. I opened the sauna door and stretched out on the wooden bench savouring the intense heat, feeling the tiny prickles of sweat beginning all over my body. I closed my eyes briefly, and when I opened them again, I saw there was a girl in the spa pool. The door between us was tinted, the kind of privacy glass they fit to cars sometimes, so although I could look out and see her, less then six feet away, she had no idea I was here unless she chose to come into sauna herself. As I watched, she looked around her as if to make sure she was alone, and descended the steps into the spa pool. From where I lay I could see her clearly, a petit, tanned figure clad in a tiny orange bikini. She was slender and small-breasted, but clearly was someone who spent a lot of time in the gym; even through the misty glass I could see the definition of her stomach and leg muscles. As she reached the bottom of the steps she turned to face me, and I realised I knew her vaguely – Sarah Cullen, engaged to a friend of a friend, bahis firmaları and deputy manager of this same Health Club. In fact it had been her who had shown me around and signed me up just after Christmas when I’d first dragged my flabby, unfit and overweight body down here following a bout of guilt about seasonal over-indulgence. She was very pretty, I remembered, in a clear-skinned blue-eyed way that didn’t seem to need much make-up, and a slightly crooked front tooth which actually enhanced her looks rather than detracting from them. The boyfriend being a dick (who I’d also dragged along as moral support) spent most of the time grinning idiotically at her and practically dribbling, until Sarah went off to get the enrollment forms, whereupon I took advantage of the chance to elbow him soundly in the crotch. Oh well, it looked like I was going to get a chance to ogle her now. I shifted my position slightly so I could get a better view of her, and what I saw made me catch my breath. Instead of sitting on the ledge in the spa, which would place her with her back to me, Sarah appeared to be kneeling on it, with her arms resting on the edge of the pool, staring directly at me. For a moment I wondered what on earth she was doing, and then slowly realisation dawned – in that position she would directing the powerful jet of water normally intended to massage a persons back directly between her legs! Even as I watched she arched her back slightly, as if tilting her pelvis to get a more direct blast on her sensitive area, and her head slid slowly down until it was resting on her arms, which were folded in front of her on the wet tiles. From where I was I could see clearly that her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly open, her lips moving slowly as if she were making little noises of pleasure in time with the slowly quickening breathing, which I could gauge from the rising and falling of her rib cage. Clearly Sarah had no idea I was there, in fact she probably thought she had the entire Health Club to herself, and this presented me with something of a dilemma. Much as I was enjoying watching her get off (I was keenly aware that the dampness between my legs was not entirely due to the sauna), my current location was extremely – in fact becoming uncomfortably – hot. The last thing I wanted to do was to disturb her in the throes of pleasure, but at the same time I wasn’t keen on the idea of passing out as a result of heat exhaustion, and I found myself quietly praying that Sarah Cullen wasn’t one of those women who take an age to cum. I need not have worried – hardly had the kaçak bahis siteleri thought crossed my mind before I saw her pelvis begin to move rhythmically up and down, a brief recurring flash of orange bikini bottoms amid the foam, and noticed her breathing coming faster and faster. Her little whimpers of pleasure were audible in the sauna now, and I guessed the main event was only moments away. I wasn’t wrong. Sarah’s eyes suddenly snapped open, her muscles visibly tightened, and her mouth formed a protracted and loud cry of “Fuuuuuuuuuuck!”. A shudder ran through her body, and she slumped forwards onto the tiles, her shoulders heaving, and her shapely rear slowly subsiding beneath the waters of the spa. I don’t know if it was a result of the close proximity of such a gloriously sexual sight as the aftermath of Sarah’s orgasm, or the heat of the sauna, but I was beginning to feel faintly delirious. A faint red mist was beginning to descend in front of my eyes, and my head was spinning, so it was with a heartfelt sigh of relief that I watched Sarah climb slowly to her feet, and with a slightly smug look on her face, make her way slowly out of the spa pool and my field of vision, adjusting her bikini bottoms as she went. I gave her as long as I dared (which in fairness wasn’t very long – I was beginning to feel distinctly close to fainting) and then yanked open the door of the sauna and made a frantic dash for the cold shower on the other side of the spa pool. I stood in the centre and frantically jabbed at the button on the wall, missing it several times in my panic before an avalanche of cold water hit me like a physical blow. The shock to my system was complete and took my breath away; my mouth opened to gasp for air as I felt the wave of cold charge through my body, my legs and arms shaking and my nipples stiffening instantly. How long I stood there I have no idea, but by the time I finally stepped out of the shower, blinking back the water and unruly hair from my eyes, I was well and truly cold. “Did you enjoy the show?” a female voice inquired. A few seconds previously I would have bet on my being the coldest thing around for miles, but that voice possessed an icy politeness that was verging on the Arctic. Standing before me, hands on hips, Sarah Cullen was still astonishingly pretty even when she was livid with anger, and clearly she was the wrong side of furious right now, her deep blue eyes flashing dangerously, and every fibre of her gloriously muscled body trembling with barely suppressed rage. “What the hell do you think gives you the right to spy on me, you freak?” She was almost shouting, and I hoped fervently that the club really was empty. “I can’t believe you did that.” By now I’d managed to compose myself a little. “I wasn’t spying on you Sarah,” I said, “But since you ask, yes, I did enjoy the show.

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