My name is Cameron Black. When I was in college, I was one of the few of my siblings who had an operating vehicle. My oldest sister had a crotch rocket and my older brother had his pickup, but my younger siblings, who were both still in college and both spent their money on other things, did not. I, for my part, had rebuilt and maintained a beater of my own and it kept me from having to walk or take the bus everywhere.
During the summer just after my third year, my younger sister asked me for a ride to the rec center. She had always been a swimmer and wanted to get some laps in. She explained to me that her usual ride caught a stomach bug and couldn’t take her. I sighed, told her that she was chipping in for gas, and grabbed my suit. I’ve never been much of a swimmer, but I can keep myself from drowning. Nat – my sister – offered to pay my way in to the pool, but everyone in the family had a membership at the rec center. It was one of the few things inexpensive enough that my folks could spring for everyone to have one.
Swimming went about as you might expect. The people in the water were a mix of pre-teen through retiree and at various fitness levels. Some of the girls who were just messing around were in decent shape, but they all looked too young for me to think about trying to chat them up. Nat kept swimming long after most folks had gone home for dinner. I was sitting on the deck, dry as a bone, when Nat called from the pool, asking me if I could get her towel for her. I grabbed it and walked over to the pool.
Nat mostly spends her money on going out with friends and clothes, so I thought she would have a great bathing suit. Instead, she was wearing the same one I had seen her in for a couple summers. I was not about to say anything, everyone spends their money as they see fit, but not having a good bathing suit when you swim as much as she did seemed almost wrong. She came to the shallow end of the pool and surfaced near the wall, but her suit front decided not to surface at the same speed.
Her breasts floated free and she stood with nothing between her bare chest and the open air. I must have been gaping, because she took one look at my expression before looking down, turning a deep shade of red, and ducking back into the water. She wriggled her tits back into the suit and surfaced more slowly, making sure that the suit came with her. I noticed, though, that either the sight of her bosoms had seared itself into my retinas or the suit, old as it was, did not hide much of anything. Nat saw my expression and hers grew puzzled. She looked down, realized that the suit was basically just coloring her breasts, and snatched the towel from my hand, getting the edges wet as she stepped out of the water.
“Sorry you had to see that, Cam.” she apologized.
I shook my head to clear it. “No need to be sorry, Nat.” I exhaled sharply. “Though you might want to invest in a new suit.”
She giggled, her face still red. “Yeah, I guess I forget that suits wear out. This one hasn’t done that before, so I hadn’t really given a new one much thought.” She kept talking, her words coming out in a babbling stream that caused me to mentally check out. The problem there is that my memory decided to remind me that I had just seen a pair of nicely formed tits. Nevermind they were attached to my little sister, they were lovely and my hands itched to be full of those breasts.
I tamped down the raging hormones and tried to return to the moment. Nat was looking at me as if she had asked a question and I hadn’t answered. “Sorry, Nat, lost in thought. What did you want?”
Her eyebrows drew together momentarily before the expression cleared and she repeated her question. “Do you need to get home or could you take me to get a new suit? I don’t want a repeat performance when there’s no one around to come to my rescue.”
I shook my head. “I’ve got nothing important tonight. Let’s get you set up.”
She beamed and we retired to our respective locker rooms to get dressed.
“Where to?” I asked once we got situated in the car.
She pursed her lips as she buckled her seatbelt. “Do you mind heading into town? There’s a great shop down on Main where one of my classmates works.”
I shrugged. “Why not? You buy us dinner if we’re there too late.”
She laughed. “Deal.”
As we drove, she told me about her classes and professors and how things were coming along in her gen ed. She talked about a frat guy who had been trying, to no avail, to get her to a party or six. I, for my part, responded with news about how getting ready for grad was coming along and what I planned to do after I finished. The drive into town was short anyway, but the conversation helped it feel as short as it actually was.
Once we got close, Nat gave directions to the shop and we found parking in a structure about a block away. The shop was one of those that specialized in swim suits. Some of the high price stuff had less fabric involved than a washcloth and cost significantly more. There were others on the high end involving significantly more fabric. These, Nat once told me, are suits made by the folks who specialize in racing suits. Nat was looking for something in between and, I realized with an amused shake of my head, apparently could not help but grab a few beach-worthy options as well.