Swimming At The ClubSwimming at the club.
This is a fantasy piece I have written. It exists only to satisfy my own particular and individual kinks and fetishes. My story involved a number of facets including wetting, a large helping of wetlook and one piece swimsuits. It also includes a fair bit of “back story” which I have written in as I really quite enjoy reading about peoples “awakening”.
So if it sounds like your thing, sit back and enjoy the read. Feedback is always welcome, although criticism will probably be met with a challenge to write something better!
Are you sitting comfortably? (or uncomfortably if that’s your thing!) Then let me begin.
Let me introduce myself, my name is Harry, and I am a very lucky bastard!
I work for a private members health club as a maintenance engineer and this gives me access to the club at all time of the day and night. Now I can tell what you’re thinking, that’s not very lucky! Well let me tell you another couple of facts, and you can see where the luck comes in. We have a little arrangement between about six of the leading employees of the club, and that is a rota of private use, when the club is closed on a Sunday evening. So once every six weeks, or so, my beautiful wife, Ann, and I have complete private access to the club, and all it’s facilities, including the swimming pool, and Jacuzzi.
Now, you may think that’s quite lucky, and it is, but that’s not the real piece of luck, the real piece of luck is that Ann and I are crazy about wet sex, and the completely enclosed private swimming area allows us to share and enact our wettest fantasies!
We arrived at the club, and let ourselves in to the deserted building. The club shuts on a Sunday evening, ostensibly for maintenance, but usually there is precious little maintenance done then!
I made my way to the reception office, and switched off the alarm, before switching on enough lights to get us into the pool area. I wanted to make it look like there was someone here, but not enough lighting to make it look like the place was open. We relocked the door behind us, and put one of the phones on to the front reception desk. This was our secret sign to anyone else arriving at the club, that a private session was in progress, and they should leave. The privacy sign seems to work well, as no one has ever been interrupted, to my knowledge!
By now we are starting to get really excited about what we are going to do, so we rush into the changing room, where our evening really gets going.
Let me tell you how it started.
Ann and I had been school sweethearts for more years than either of us can remember. We were more of less inseparable, and thought we would leave school and be together forever. However, for many reasons, too boring to go into here, this did not quite go to plan, the course of true love never did run smooth, and we ended married for a while, unfortunately not to each other! But I’m running away with myself, and need to return to the story.
We were always an item at school, and spent a lot of time in each other’s company, we were best friends, boyfriend / girlfriend and shared all of our secrets, desires and thoughts. We were never lovers as such, though as we grew older there was some “fumbling” once in a while, but these were far more innocent times, and the fear of getting pregnant put paid to any serious activity!
It was during a phase of sexual awakening and discovery that coincidentally the really good swimmers in our year embarked on survival swimming, and as we both enjoyed swimming, and had reached the required standard we joined our class mates at the poolside, first in our pyjamas, and later fully clothed for swimming lessons to help us survive falling into open water.
On the face of it, this was probably a useful skill, avoiding drowning! And there was probably a fitness thing going here as well, It was quite hard work swimming with the drag of clothing to slow you down.
What was not planned, or intended, by the good people who invented this activity was the pure sexual thrill I enjoyed from the feel jumping into a swimming pool fully clothed, or the site of seeing my long term girlfriend, do exactly the same thing. The smile on her face was testament to her enjoyment!
In our private and more intimate moments we often spoke about our enjoyment of swimming fully clothed, and wished that we could do so less publicly and more intimately. We spent hours in school boy / girl fantasies planning how we would throw caution to the wind and take the plunge when we were older, more adult, and out of our parents control and limitations.
Fast forward a few years and we are both now products of failed relationships. Friends Reunited was the instrument that put us back in touch with each other, and at first sight all of the intervening years disappeared. We embarked on a relationship, that just did not seem to need the “getting to know you” phase, and we fell into such an easy and comfortable relationship, we could only regret the ten or so lost years.
Inevitably we wasted little time getting each other into bed, and enjoyed what had previously been forbidden delights!
It was during one of our early warm post coital cuddles that we started to talk about out old desires and dreams, and we discovered that we both still hankered after the idea of getting good and wet. In fact we also discovered that to be part of the cause of our respective failed relationships, both our ex partners had been horrified by the idea of wanting to get wet, whilst still clothed. They had thought we needed serious psychiatric help!
We embarked on a very wet relationship, grabbing each and every opportunity for a clothed dunking almost always followed by a wonderful love session of love making. There was nothing we owned that had not been drenched and no bath or shower was safe whilst we were in town!
We arranged holidays with wet-look in mind, trying to find secluded safe beaches so that we could frolic in the water fully clothed, away from the misunderstanding gaze of those who do not comprehend, and so we could enjoy the privacy of lovemaking in the water, usually still in our clothes.
We had been enjoying the damp delights of fully clothed bathing and ******* for only a little while, when, one day, my, soon to be, wife expressed the urgent need to visit the toilet . Up until that day the idea of “water-sports” had not really occurred to us. We had driven to a beach, and found ourselves out of sight of anybody else, and ready to head into the water for a good soaking. The journey had taken longer than we had expected and Ann was starting to suffer. We had dressed for a swim prior to leaving home, and had taken dry clothes with us for our return journey. I knew she was wearing a blue regulation swimsuit under her clothes, as I had watched her dress in our bedroom before leaving. She was also wearing stocking and suspenders, and a reasonably demure cotton patterned green sun dress. I suggested waiting a few minutes until we were in the sea, and she could quietly just pee in the water, but she said she was bursting. Trying to be helpful, and realising that Ann would not want to ***** naked to remove her costume fully, I suggested that she just hold her gusset out of the way, but Ann said she would probably manage to pee over her hand. Well, ever the pragmatist, I suggested she just squat down with her dress out of the way, and pee in her costume, It seemed to me that a lot of pee was just water, and we would be getting wet anyway, so what was the problem? Ann seemed to buy into this idea, and proceeded to do just that.
I sort of expected her to be somewhat disgusted by this procedure, but after the initial reluctance to start her stream, she seemed to quite enjoy the novelty, her confidence grew, and she ended up royally ******* her swimsuit, smiling as she did so.
“Oh, that’s so much better” she said as she stood up, “do you know, I don’t think I will ever hesitate to do that again” she went on, “as long as you don’t mind”. Well what was I to say, my pre soaking ***** was like an iron rod, and to be honest, I was just about ready to shag her right there on the spot, with the rest of her clothes all dry! We rushed into the water, and enjoyed a very short lived shag in the shallows, a very short while later.
Later, as we changed into dry clothes to head home, Ann asked if I had really enjoyed it when she pissed herself. She was concerned that I might be a little disgusted by the episode. I calmed her fears and told her it was about the sexiest thing she had ever done, and I would really enjoy it if it became a regular part of our wet lives. Had she already forgotten the renewed vigour with which I had ****** her in the waves?
Well very soon there wasn’t a pair of Ann’s knickers, or a swimsuit that had not been pissed in. We experimented in skirts, and trousers and jeans, enjoying the sight and feel of wet denim down her legs, light cotton trousers turning almost see though, and skirts that could be lifted out of the way for a good wet shag! We had discovered an additional edge, and it made our fantasy complete. How had we never thought of it before?!
Going for the job at the club, and being employed there became the icing on the cake especially when I became aware of the private arrangement that the manager explained.
I knew that a couple of the guys used the rota time to work in the gym, and at least one of the managers admitted that he and his wife used their allotted time to skinny dip in the pool and the Jacuzzi. I did not want to let on about our little damp secret, so when challenged, I mumbled something about skinny dipping as well, trying to make it sound like I was embarrassed about admitting it! I really did not want my co-workers thinking me nutty or something, wanting to swim fully clothed!
Back to the changing room and we rushed to ***** out of the clothes we had worn in the car. We enjoyed some “themed” evenings, and would have received some hard stares at some of the outfits my wife has worn for me.
Ann often surprises me by bringing a bag along to the club, and changing into her outfit when we arrive. Sometimes, she just wears what she has worn to the club, changing into dry clothes, from the bag, for the return trip, other times she has worn pyjamas, a night-gown, a netball outfit, a demure nurses uniform, just a swimsuit, jodhpurs, in fact all sorts of outfits. I suspect the local charity shops do quite well out of us and our little fetish!
Now I would have to admit that, over the years, I have also developed quite a liking for the female one piece swim suit, and when we swim like this, I quite like my wife to wear one, under her clothes. I guess this may go back to our survival swimming days, when we were all required to wear an appropriate swimming costume under our clothes. This was probably to do with keeping the proper dignity when we removed our clothes in the water. All I do know is that the whole swimsuit thing stuck, and as Ann does not mind what she wears in the water, she is quite happy to indulge me by wearing a costume more times than not. Once in a while she will wear the more traditional bra and pants, and I would have to admit watching her panties go all see-though is a delight, but it’s not the same a swimsuit!
So it was no surprise when, having ******** naked, the first thing my wife removed from her bag was a swimsuit which she slipped in to, closely followed by a pair of stockings and a suspender belt! Next she buttoned a nice white blouse over the top half of her slim and shapely torso, before finishing the ensemble with a tie and a below the knee light grey skirt.
My wife knows I cannot resist the schoolgirl look, and this uniform is one of our favourites. We spent a little bit of money buying an adult size authentic uniform, but it was worth every penny. I like the more demure and studious look, and my wife can do it in spades. She is quite small and slight, and with her pert little breasts, she can carry off the schoolgirl look very well. Aren’t I the lucky one!
I too was rushing to dress. My one piece swim suit fetish reaches as far as liking to wear one myself, and as we have come this far, it would be a shame not to allow myself the pleasure of wearing such an exquisite and, for me at least, forbidden garment. You might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb! I put on my cozzie, and start to dress in blue shirt, tie and trousers and socks over my costume. Today I will be a fire officer, a bit of a father figure to my schoolgirl! We both slip on river shoes to complete the ensemble. Ordinary shoes can be destroyed by wearing in the pool, and can do harm with all sorts of bacteria living in the soles, but river shoes are just bits of neoprene, and give us the feeling of shoes whilst not causing any problems. (I’ll be back in tomorrow, checking the chemical level in the pool, so must ensure nothing causes any problems!)
We are rushing for two reasons, we don’t want to waste any time, getting into the pool, but we both have overfilled our bladders to bursting point., in readiness for a mutual wetting, and we wouldn’t want to have an accident prior to the planned event!
Sometimes we go into the Changing room toilets to sit on a toilet to pee ourselves, sometimes sitting on each other lap, but today my wife took my hand and led me into the shower area, where the showers were dry from the last showers of the club members, and the waiting drains would deal with our little indiscretions! Ann guided me to lie on my back on the floor, and immediately turned to squat facing me, lowering herself over my midriff and settling on an already quite stiff part of my anatomy! I put my hand up her skirt and gently rubbed the area of her gusset where her secret place was hidden, her gusset was sopping with her own juices, and would soon be even wetter!
Ann settled down, and allowed my to move my hands up to her breasts and gently massage her beautiful pert **** covered as they were by a la
The club was almost silent with only the quiet whine of the pool pumps audible in the changing room, when I heard the gentle roar of a pissed in swimsuit and the subtle and barely discernible sigh of relief as Ann bore down on her poor overfilled bladder and commenced the naughty pleasure of emptying of her pent up pee into her swimsuit. Her swimsuit, of course, completely failed to contain the liquid onslaught, consequently my, as yet, dry trousers began to get wet as copious amounts of my wife’s pee, filtered by the lycra of her swimming costume, drained down through the fabric of my trousers and costume, and washed over my own, very excited, sex.
The dreamy look of relief, mixed with wicked devilment on Ann’s face was a picture to behold. Since her introduction to intentional wetting she had embraced the concept with enormous enthusiasm, and I could not begin to explain why I found it so exciting and sexy. ******* in her clothes excited my wife as much as leaping fully clothed into a swimming pool, and she always found this intentional departure from society’s normal behaviour unbelievably exciting and made her feel intensely horny. Many’s the time she has come simply by the wilful and gratuitous act of forcefully peeing herself!
My trousers and, albeit unorthodox, underwear were soaked by the time Ann’s streams ran dry and I was about ready to consummate our play session, when Ann stood up, and bent down to guide me from the floor. She was still looking very dry in her chosen unusual swimming attire, and made it clear that she wanted me to return the dampening favour before we made our way into the pool area. To this end she kneeled in front of me, nestling into my slightly parted legs, and looked up into my eyes, begging me to release my own liquid gold.
To be honest, I was so excited by my wife’s sexy actions that I had tremendous difficulty relaxing my bladder into my already sodden swimsuit, but I persevered and after only a short wait I sluiced my own garments, along with my wife’s breasts and blouse with the contents of my own complaining, overfilled bladder. All too soon, but after what had seemed like gallons of pee had left my body to moisten our clothes, my stream faltered and died, Realising the source was now dry Ann stood up and we embraced rubbing our sodden clothed bodies together, hand everywhere, simply enjoying the feel and touch of each other’s patchy wet clothes, which started to cool.
“Swim” I said, and lead Ann out of the showers and into the main pool area, where the waiting waters invited us in to ruffle the unbroken surface of water.
At the sight of the water Ann broke away from me, “chase me” she said as she ran to the edge of the pool, and without slowing, or breaking stride, executed a damn near perfect running dive into the calm waiting waters. She glided under the surface, before swimming a couple of strokes and then broke the surface, whooping as she turned to face me, standing almost shoulder deep in the clear waters of the pool. Her demure skirt swirled up around her waist allowing me a glimpse through the shimmering waters of stocking tops and the dark V of the bottom of her swimsuit. Her cotton blouse had gone almost completely opaque and the top part of her high necked swimsuit was clearly visible. I was in heaven and could only think of joining my wife in the pool, and pleasuring her until she begged me to take her, right there in the water.
Taken a little by surprise by my Ann’s speedy entry into the pool, I had been left standing, high and dry on the side of the pool, but enjoying the visual banquet of an excited woman glorying in entering the water fully clothed, I had to try and catch up with Ann and ran for the pool, and adopted a more male bomb posture as I leapt in.
As I surfaced and swam towards the position where my wife had been, I realised that she was swimming towards the shallow end of the pool. So I set off in pursuit. On arrival at the pool ladder Ann started to climb, and was soon stood level with the pool side, water cascading from her chlorine sodden clothes, a sheen of water disappearing from the surface of her clothes as gravity dragged the water back towards the pool. As I arrived at the edge of the pool, my wife was lowering herself to sit on the edge of the pool, dangling her legs in the water.
I swam to the side and stood in the shallow just about level with the edge of the pool. My wife moved forward to meet me, and lifted her skirt, whilst she spread her legs, exposing the front of her swimsuit to me in a very provocative way. “Make me come” she said as she eased her swimsuit out of the way exposing her sex to me.
I did not need a second invitation and set about pleasuring her clitoris with my tongue. I held her costume out of the way whilst Ann leaned back on her arms, and arched her back in pure ecstasy. It became very apparent that she was turned on beyond all expectations, her juices were flowing copiously even with all the pool water cascading from her clothes and she came with a huge buck of her hips in what seemed like only seconds of tongue work on my part, spraying me with more pee as she came!
After a couple more seismic ******* Ann could not cope with any more and begged me to stop, so I withdrew and allowed the costume to resume it’s more usual place, covering all that is usually covered, and tugged Ann back into the buoyant waters of the pool, where we again embraced and explored each others clothed sopping bodies.
We quickly moved to a slightly shallower of the pool, and Ann stared to ease my zip down before fishing my manhood out of the leg-hole of my swimsuit, and through the fly of my trousers before turning around to face away from me. Ann lifted the back of her school uniform skirt , and I again eased the gusset of her swimsuit out of the way to enter her silken confines. I wrapped my arms around her, one hand sought her swimsuit and blouse clad breasts to gently rub and squeeze whilst the other explored her exposed sex, seeking out her clitoris to gently massage, whilst we ******, gently at first, but quickly gaining in speed and frenzy until we both came, and then huddled soaking wet and with our animal passions temporarily allayed.
Eventually we had to break from our post coital cuddle, and we gently separated ourselves before re-arranging our clothes and various parts of our anatomy! We kissed and cuddled again before setting off to swim some more. We swam for another half an hour or so, leaping in and out of the pool, ducking each other, and generally playing about as anybody would in a swimming pool. Al too soon we knew we had to leave our little living fantasy and return to the real (dry) world outside.
We made our way out of the pool and headed back to the changing rooms, heading for our bags, where our washing stuff was waiting for us. We grabbed shampoo and soap before turning back towards the shower, dripping water from our sodden clothing everywhere we walked. On the way back to the showers Ann said she needed the loo again, and turned to head into the toilets, I followed into the Ladies, pretty sure I knew what was coming. It turned out I was not wrong!
Ann walked straight in to one of the cubicles and without closing the door, opened the lid on the waiting toilet, turned and sat down, on the toilet seat still in all her wet clothes. I stood just in the cubicle and watched as my naughty lovely wife smile as she again set about wetting herself, this time whilst completely soaked.
Water splashed noisily into the pan, draining from Ann’s clothes as she sat there starting her little stream deep within the confines of her clothes, and a smile spread across her face as things got going and she felt everything become warm down there as cool pool water was replaced around her sex by her own warm pee. “You never quite empty yourself when you’ve filled yourself right up, do you” she said as a little trickle made itself apparent in the toilet. I just stood there admiring the view as I emptied my own bladder into my swimsuit leaning casually against the cubicle door. It occurred to me that I would really like to see Ann use a French toilet wearing a swimming costume, and I started to wonder about the venue for our next holiday!
Suddenly Ann decided she was finished and stood up from the toilet. “We’d better go and cleaned up” she said, leading us back to the showers we had sluiced with pee earlier.
We started a couple of showers, next to one another in the main area, and let them warm up for a couple of moments, before standing under them and allowing the warm water to soak through our clothes. We both wondered about the way the cold water feels colder as it’s met by the hot water from the shower, and banished to the drain. We embraced and kissed under the shower, gently washing each other’s hair, and pouring copious amounts of shower gel over each other before stripping each other off, making a huge pile of wet clothes, which we left where the shower would continue wash away the pool chlorine.
Finally we stepped naked from the shower, and towelled each other off, still enjoying each other’s bodies. “Damn,“ I said “we forgot the Jacuzzi!” “Don’t worry” said Ann, “there’s always next time!”
When out sodden clothes were rung out, we placed them in plastic bags to take them home and dry them out, ready for next time. We made our way out of the club, securing everything as we left, making sure there was no trace, other than wet floors, of our secret little dalliances. We would sleep well that night, and we would both be starting to make our plans for the next time our names came up on the secret rota.