I grabbed my conservative black one-piece swimsuit---along with a towel, a bottle of bath oil, and a silver scarf---before I trotted to the guest house and found the exercise room on the first floor. Like Ruth had promised, the room was empty. I hooked my scarf around the knob and shut the door. Once I got into the jacuzzi room, I discovered the tub was already filled and hot, with the jets turned on, bubbling away.
After pouring a small amount of bath oil into the water, I climbed in.
Only then did I realize maybe I shouldn't have used bath oil. Would it mess up the jacuzzi? Since it was too late to worry about that, I put the worry out of my mind.
Oh God, the water felt incredible. It was just hot enough to soothe me, but not so hot I'd sweat like in a sauna. I hated those. Getting drowned in steam made me nauseous. But this jacuzzi... Wow, I could live in it. The bath oil released its soothing scents while I leaned back and let the bubbles tease my skin. A jet pounded into my back, easing the tension there, and I moaned because it felt so damn good. I'd been stressed for a long time, with no real means of alleviating it. Nothing I did was good enough for anyone, and heaven forbid if I tried something that wasn't on the approved list of activities for a socialite.
Last year, I'd wanted to go to Disneyland, and my parents had said it was "too gauche for a lady like you." Well, my mom had said that. Dad let her do all the talking when it was slap-Mara-on-the-wrist time. No actual slapping was involved, though. Purely the verbal kind. My mom never yelled at me or insulted me. She simply reminded me of the rules for people in our echelon of society.
Sometimes, I really, really wanted to do something crazy, something totally opposite of what everyone expected. Something naughty. Something that might actually feel good.
That jet felt damn good pulsing against my low back.
Maybe if I turned around and lifted my hips...
I grinned, feeling deliciously wicked just thinking about it. Maybe the nudist resort setting had affected me, but I had an urge I couldn't resist. So I spun around and knelt in front of the water jet, letting the bubbly power of it pulsate on my body, right at the juncture of my thighs. It didn't quite hit the right spot, the one that would send me straight to the land of happy endings. I wiggled around, trying to find the sweet spot, but none of the jets had the perfect angle.
Shit. I was getting hot, and not from the water temperature. The second I'd thought about using the water jet to get off, I'd gone so hot and slick I almost couldn't stand it. Feeling the jet pounding into my thighs and hips ratcheted up my arousal until my rigid nub throbbed.
I lay back in the tub and slipped my fingers inside my swimsuit, straining to reach my clitoris. I couldn't get there. The suit was too snug for my hand to fit. Ugh. I tried rubbing myself through the swimsuit, but that wasn't working either. I kept getting wetter and more anxious, craving that release, but I couldn't reach that hard, aching nub to push myself over the edge.
Fuck, I needed to come. Needed it so badly.
Well, if I took off my swimsuit...
No, I couldn't. What if somebody saw me?
Ruth had sworn no one would disturb me. They'd stay away until I took the scarf off the door to the exercise room. And besides, I was inside the jacuzzi room with that door closed too. Two doors separated me from the rest of the guest house.
Whimpering, I slumped in the tub. I'd never needed an orgasm so much in my life, like I'd go insane if I couldn't hit that peak.
I glanced around, like I expected to see someone hiding behind me or on the floor. Nobody around. Nobody but me and the bubbles tormenting my sensitized skin.
So I peeled off my swimsuit.
While I relaxed against the tub's rim, slipping my fingers between my folds, I tried to think of a good fantasy to help me get off faster. I rolled my clit between two fingers while I stretched out my longest finger to rub up and down my cleft, coating my fingers with the evidence of my horny state, making my them more slippery with every stroke. Oh God, that felt goooood. Shutting my eyes, I let a fantasy play out in my mind, a vision of Ollie with his head between my legs, lapping and teasing, his hands pinning my hips down while I thrashed and thrust my fingers into his hair.
I came so hard and so fast a sharp cry exploded out of me.
"Oh shit!"
That exclamation had not come from me. The intensity of my release had robbed me of breath, allowing only that one small, wordless cry.
My lids sprang open---and I screamed.
Ollie was standing in the open doorway, his eyes wide and his mouth open. He whirled around to face away from me, throwing one hand up. "Sorry, shit, I'm sorry. Should've knocked, but---Fuck, I'm sorry."
He ran away.
Oh. My. God. Had Ollie seen me... touching myself? He had definitely seen me naked. But somehow, the idea of that didn't freak me out like I would've expected. Instead, I got more aroused again thinking about.
But he was shocked and humiliated.
My cheeks heated up, burning like a bonfire of shame. How could I get turned on by a virtual stranger seeing me naked? While I was giving myself a happy ending?
I should've known the one time I cut loose and did something naughty, I'd get caught.
With my cheeks on fire and my stomach churning, I pulled on my swimsuit and left the jacuzzi room. The
