“Good morning! I hope we can beat the rain!” Caro said when she greeted me Saturday morning with a quick kiss.
“It’ll make us run faster!” I quipped.
It was cloudy and warm with a 70% chance of rain. The air was thick with humidity and we were both already breaking sweats before we even finished stretching.
As we ran we talked about many different things as we usually did, but we didn’t touch the subject of ‘us’, and I felt a tenseness in the vibe that I figured would stay with us until we did.
After a few miles we were drenched in sweat and our running clothes were matted to our bodies. When we reached the spot where I had stashed our water bottles we stopped for a quick drink. My shorts were drenched and clung tightly to the bulge between my legs.
Caro must have noticed, the same way I observed her orange shorts hugging her sweaty camel toe. At around eleven miles I asked her how she was feeling and she said she felt pretty good. I told her I was going to stretch out a little for the last couple miles, and did she mind?
She said, ‘No, let’s do it!’ So I picked up the pace and we took off together.
Our last two miles were run at a quick pace, faster than what Caro was accustomed to, but she stayed right with me. When we slowed to a walk after our thirteen miles I was ecstatic and told her how proud I was.
Without thinking I wrapped my arm around her sweat-soaked waist and kissed her cheek, and we walked arm in arm for a few steps.
When we walked onto her patio from the side of the house, she went through the gate before me and I shook my head in admiration of how the liquid fabric of her shirt was plastered to her slim waist and her shorts that looked like an orange paint job on the crack of her ass.
Caro went into the house, and as had become my custom after our runs, I entered the pool area, peeled off my shirt, shoes and socks and jumped into the pool wearing only my running shorts.
I swam and paddled around a little, enjoying the feel of the cool water on my hot skin, easing my spent satisfaction after a hard run.
I took off my shorts, wrung them out in my hands, and placed them on the patio at the lip of the pool, where I could easily retrieve them to put them back on. After a couple more laps I swam over to the pool steps and sat on the bottom step in the chest-high water and relaxed.
In a few minutes Caro came out through the doors from her bedroom with Babs right behind. She walked over and opened the gate to let Babs out for a quick pee. She looked like a model in a sleek one-piece black, backless swimsuit that promoted all of her curves.
Without looking at me (but knowing I was watching her) she strutted over and picked up my running shorts and took them over to the wall and hung them on the towel rack.
Then she dove into the deep end. She came up for air and stood in water up to her shoulders and looked at me for the first time.
With a mischievous smile on her face she slid her hands over her shoulders, freeing them from the black spaghetti straps of her suit. With her hands submerged and a twist and turn of her body she removed her bathing suit and threw it over by the towel rack. We were both now naked in her pool.
“If you get to skinny-dip,”
she said, “So do I.”