Temptation (2 page)

I became a rich, successful businessman who
refuses to settle down. I'm no longer invited to any of their
social gatherings. This is mostly because I've fucked a daughter, a
niece, or babysitter of almost every guest invited and never called
her afterwards.

Instead of being pissed at me they should
tell the less than fortunate women in their lives to close their
fucking legs. I didn't force them to hop on.

This is just a little backstory, but we'll
get to more about me later. Right now I want to focus on what
brought me to the low place I'm in today.

After my visit last year with the good old
doctor, I decided to change up my exercise routine a little. The
following Monday morning I arrived at the gym and ran for an hour
before weight lifting and doing my sit-ups, but when I got back to
the locker room I threw on my swim jammers and decided to swim some
laps in the pool before I sat in the sauna.

You see, I was a competitive swimmer all the
way through college. Growing up the way I did meant I had parents
that were too busy to spend time with me, so I spent my time with
the staff and participating in every extracurricular activity you
could imagine. It was natural talent and great genes that made me
great at everything I did, but I excelled in swimming.

I took to the water like I belonged there.
Swimming felt more natural to me than walking. By the time I hit
high school I was the number one swimmer in the state and colleges
all over the country were scouting me and offering me the world if
I chose their school. I ended up choosing a school at random,
because at that time I didn't care about a future in school, I only
cared about pussy and I was getting loads of it.

I still am.

When I walked into the pool area that Monday
and approached the lap lanes, only lane two was open, the rest were
occupied. With my goggles secured on my face I dove in and swam a
few warm-up laps, reacquainting myself with the water. It had been
several years since I swam laps in a pool, but it's just like
riding a bike. After just a few laps I felt home again in the
water.

At the end of my tenth lap I stopped, pulled
my goggles off my head and dampened them with water before
reapplying them over my eyes. When I look back over the past year I
realize this is when it happened. This is when my life started to
change and I became my own worst enemy. I became infatuated with
one woman, and it would take me an insanely long time to realize
it.

Somehow I was oblivious to what my mind was
constantly focused on this past year. My thoughts were always on
her.

With the goggles secured back on my face, I
let my eyes drift over my surroundings. The lanes were active with
bodies seeking the same physical release I was. My eyes appraised
every lane and although each person swam at a different level, they
all seemed to be in great shape. Some might even possibly have a
similar background in the sport that I did, except for her- the
woman in lane one.

This is what drew my attention to her at
first.

She was frumpy. I'm not just saying that
because she was significantly overweight, which she was. I'm saying
it because her bathing suit was old, worn and didn't fit her right.
The only positive thing about the blue synthetic material she
called a one-piece, was the built-in push-up bra that her ample
breasts toppled over. Although, the only reason she had ample
breasts was because of her weight so it's not necessarily something
I should drool over.

I'm not good at guessing a woman's size if
she's larger than a size eight, mostly because I've never fucked a
woman over a size eight, but this woman was much larger. Shit, I
don't know, maybe a size eighteen or twenty?

You see my problem? This was the first time
I'd seen her and I was already spending too much time thinking
about her. She was already demanding my attention longer than any
other woman ever had. A size eighteen was definitely not my type.
Plus, she was just average-looking. Okay, maybe a little above
average and I'm only conceding to that because in those first
couple seconds she caught my eye.

She noticed me looking at her and gave me a
shy smile. It was just a small smile before she focused back on the
water and started swimming again, but in that smile I saw
something... beautiful.

Of course, that's not what I thought in that
moment, but looking back at that first encounter, I'm more aware of
the fact that I thought she was breathtakingly beautiful from the
moment I laid eyes on her.

Now I know what you're thinking about my
previous comments and it's true; I'm an asshole. Men should never
comment on a woman's weight or whatever, but I'm not saying it to
be a douchebag or to get a laugh. I commend her for getting in the
pool and working out that day.

I'm saying it because it's a fact that I
observed when I saw her.

After she looked away from me and started to
swim again, I forgot all about her and focused on the lane in front
of me. I swam for the next forty-five minutes, enjoying the calming
effect the water had on my body, before pulling myself out of the
pool and heading straight into the locker room and towards the
sauna. I didn't look around for her before leaving the pool area
because I had no need to. I'd forgotten all about her in those
forty-five minutes.

The rest of the week went exactly the same
for me. I adapted to my new workout routine and quickly remembered
how much I enjoyed swimming. I was even grateful for the results of
that stress test because it brought back my love of the water, but
every day that week when I went down to the pool, she was
there.

It's not like I was looking for her. It was
just a casual observation I made when I would walk in and my eyes
would roam over each lane. I never watched her swim though, and
when I was done swimming my laps I'd get out of the pool and go
straight to the sauna, never checking to see who was still in the
water. Never checking to see if
she
was still in the
water.

That first Saturday was when things started
to change.

Saturdays are different for me. I have no
morning meetings so I get to go to the health club first thing in
the morning, which is the perfect way to start my day. When
figuring out my new routine, I decided that on Saturdays I would
cut out the weight training and sit-ups, and instead stick to
cardio. I'd run for an hour and then head to the pool and increase
my swim time to an hour and a half. This was more cardio than
usual, but I made this decision because I was really enjoying my
time in the water. Swimming is a fantastic way of working all of my
muscles. I'm able to forget everything else, and just focus on my
body and the water. It's therapeutic.

When I walked into the pool area two hours
earlier than my normal time during the week,
she
was there
in lane one. I was a little stunned to see her. She was still
wearing that same frumpy swimsuit with her natural dark hair tied
up in one of those knot-looking things on top of her head. I slid
into the lane next to her, attempting to ignore her, but I
couldn't. I stood in the water at the top of my lane and just
stared for a few moments, watching her as she kept up her casual
swimming pace.

Was she really here again swimming? How often
does she swim? How long has she been swimming?

Why the fuck did I care?

I physically shook my head trying to get any
thoughts of her out of my mind and then I began swimming the length
of the health club's pool. Lap after lap I quickly forgot about
everything outside of the water and the lane in front of me.
Occasionally, I'd glance at the pace clock to see what my lap time
was looking like. I wasn't swimming at my fastest pace or even
trying to, but the competitor in me couldn't help the natural
instinct to check my time.

The ninety minutes in the water flew by
quickly and when I started to swim a few cool down laps, I was
aware of my surroundings, again, and the woman in lane one.

She was floating on her back, her chest
rising above the water while doing the backstroke. Her eyes were
focused on the ceiling above us. Her breasts glistened with drops
of water and I found myself intrigued by them. I loved their size
and was imagining my hands cupping the beautiful mounds of flesh
and feeding them to my mouth.

Part of me was stunned that she was still in
the pool swimming and the other part of me was focused on her body
and technique. She didn't look like a swimmer and her speed was
slow and steady, but her lines were perfection. Every stroke her
arms made was delivered with beautiful precision. Every kick of her
legs was executed like a trained professional.

I had no idea how long I watched her that
day, but I knew I should stop. This was becoming unhealthy and I
was lucky she hadn't caught me, again. If she'd seen me then I
might have to find a new health club in order to save my
reputation.

As I watched her, the same question still
lingered in my thoughts. Why was she still swimming? At her size
and the amount of time she's spent swimming in this pool, she's
probably burned around twelve to thirteen hundred calories. She's
going to be exhausted if she keeps this up.

She reached the end of the lane and suddenly
stopped swimming, standing up in the water at the other end of the
pool to take a break. Her back was facing me as she leaned over the
edge of the pool and took a few sips of her water bottle. Her head
tilted backwards as she glanced at the clock on the wall.

This was when my body finally started to
move. It would only be a second before she got out of the pool
herself and I wouldn't allow her to catch me watching her. Watching
her was beneath me, so I quickly pulled my body out of the water
and walked over to grab a white cotton towel off the towel
rack.

I'm ashamed at what I did next. It's like my
body was disconnected from the intelligent part of my brain and
couldn't help itself. I shifted my body and glanced back over to
the pool, hoping to get a glimpse of her tits outside of the water.
Instead, there she was, swimming the butterfly stroke in lane one,
while I made a fool out of myself by turning around to watch
her.

I purposely made my feet move in the
direction of the locker room even though something inside me was
pulling me towards the woman in the pool. I didn't understand the
feeling so I ignored it and opened up the wooden door to the sauna
in an attempt to sweat all thoughts of her out of my body.

I knew I just needed a good round in the sack
with Jenny tonight. Her tits were fake but huge, and would help
quench the desire I'm suddenly having for women with big tits. That
was the only explanation for why I kept watching that woman in the
pool. I wanted some big tits to hold.

Entry #1302

Her brown hair swayed in the wind as she sat
down on the long, black bench outside the health club. Her clothes
were baggy and hid her curves that were becoming more defined. It
was obvious she hadn't gone clothes shopping since she started
losing weight, but even in the disheveled clothing I could tell.
Her face was slimmer, her eyes a little larger. Eyes that I now
knew were a caramel brown.

She had ear buds in and was singing along to
the song she was listening to. Her soft smile created a warm
feeling inside me that spread through my body. I was starting to
feel something for this woman. A woman I've never even said one
word to...

Are you still with me? Okay, where was I?

Oh, right.

Those first two months went by in a blur.
Every morning when I went to the pool for my swim she was there.
When I'd finish my laps and was ready to leave, she was still
there. It seemed like she was always in that fucking pool. I don't
know why that infuriated me and intrigued me so much, but it did. I
found myself drifting off, thinking about her at the most random
times of the day. I had an irrational need to know just how long
she swam in that pool for each day.

It started off slowly, which is why I
probably didn't realize my problem until it was too late. It began
by lengthening my time in the pool. It was small at first. Coming
in five minutes earlier, leaving ten minutes later. Soon I had cut
down my run on the treadmill to thirty minutes, and instead of
doing my sit-ups at the gym, I'd do them back at the office after
lunch. I started skipping the weight room all together. I was
swimming over ninety minutes now every weekday, and every day she
was there before I got there and left some time after me.

It baffled me. I was in fantastic shape and
even I was tired after some of my pool workouts. How was she able
to keep up such a rigorous routine every day? Her determination and
work ethic in the pool mirrored mine. It was rare that I found a
woman who worked her body just as hard as I did, but then why was
she overweight?

This was a stupid question to ask myself
because I had witnessed the results of her workouts. She'd lost a
significant amount of weight in the last two months. Thirty, maybe
even forty pounds. I wasn't even sure if it was healthy to lose
that much weight so fast.

As much as I wanted to focus on anything but
her, my mind wouldn't allow me to. I'd spent so much time focused
on her that my intrigue quickly turned to admiration. After two
months of working out in the lane next to hers, changing my entire
routine to watch her, and exerting my body to the fullest extent, I
still had no idea how long she swam each day. I'd even become
desperate enough that I checked the pool first before going
upstairs for my run, and every time I checked there she was.
Swimming in lane one.

So it was then, two months in, that I hit my
all-time low, or so I thought (there was no way I could predict I
would be hiding behind a towel rack ten months later).