“Don’t worry about it,” I said easily. “It doesn’t bother me. If fact I have to admit that I find you quite charming like that. It’s a little hot, though. Aren’t you worried that you might get a little burnt?”
“Not really,” she said. “I’m wearing a waterproof sunscreen.”
“That’s good. You have lovely skin. I’d hate to see you get burned. I remember when I was a child I totally ignored the sunscreen and got very badly burned. I was in bed for a week, recovering.”
While I was mentioning her lovely skin I was also running my fingertips lightly up and down her arm. Her skin really did feel nice, warm silk to my touch.
“So what have you been doing with yourself?” I asked.
“Celebrating the end of my exams,” she said with a smile, totally ignoring my touching her. I wondered how long that would last.
I kept her talking, mainly about herself. That’s always a fascinating subject for anyone. While I kept her rambling on about nothing in particular my stroking of her arm started extending.
Running my hand lightly along her arm to where her wrist lay in the water I opted to keep my fingers dry by switching my touch to her side. Down past her waist, brushing lightly across her thigh and along her leg. Then back up again. The difference when coming up was that my hand didn’t jump from her waist to her arm but continued along her side, brushing lightly against the swell of her breast in passing.
Larissa may have pretended not to notice my hand brushing her breast but she forgot to tell her breast to ignore the touch. I could see her nipple crinkle slightly, not becoming erect but definitely waking up.
Still keeping her talking my hand retraced its way down, again brushing her breast but not trying to take undue advantage. Now as I moved I was flexing my hand slightly, effectively giving her a light massage as I moved. Down as far as her foot, pausing to hold her foot and rub the sole with my thumb.
Trailing back up, this time my hand was brushing along the inside of her leg. When my hand approached her groin her talking faltered a little, but I didn’t stop, nor did I touch her inappropriately. My hand merely passed her mound, rubbing her leg. If the back of my hand happened to brush lightly against her mound, well, these things happen. It’s not as if it was deliberate.
The trouble was that this time I found myself with my hand running over her tummy rather than her side. This meant that when I went higher I wound up brushing my hand across her breasts, between them I’ll admit, but I guess it wasn’t something she could totally ignore.
“What are you doing?”
“Mm? Just enjoying the feel of your skin and giving you a light massage at the same time. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Um, I don’t think you should be doing that.”
“Why not?” I asked. “It’s not hurting anyone, I like doing it, and you don’t seem to be complaining too loudly. Stop and consider how it feels.”
By that stage my hands had crossed over to her sides again and were trailing downwards. I stopped for a moment at the base of her ribs.