Kyle didn’t get to see Chelsea very much for the next few days. She had evening hours two nights, and by the time they were done the light was pretty much shot, and it was really too late to do much of anything else. On another night, he had to work late – it was some tail chasing on an order that had gotten messed up, and the problem mostly fell into his lap, although he wasn’t the one who had caused it.

But one night the light was absolutely gorgeous, and of course he and Chelsea spent it out taking photos, getting some good ones of her. They were getting comfortable with each other by now; he had a pretty good idea of her vision of photos of what she wanted for the website, and she was coming to depend more and more on his eye and his artistry. That meant that they didn’t have to discuss things much – they just did them, and that made things go easier all around. They did close to a dozen shoots in different locations in a matter of a few hours, lasting through the golden hour and even on past sunset, with a little help of his flash and some creative thinking about lighting.

Finally it just got too dark for the flash to help out, at least with the idea of trying to do road shots, although just for fun he had her pose in front of a “Do Not Pass” sign in the dark, lit by the flash. The idea sounded good, but the highly reflective sign overwhelmed the rest of the photo, so they gave it up as a bad job, although they resolved to try it in the daylight sometime.

They had been so eager to get out and do photos that they’d skipped dinner, and now both of them were hungry. “I think it’s too late to get something around here,” he said. “Everything will be closed, except for fast-food joints.”

“We could go out to the truck stop,” she said. “But I’m not dressed for it and don’t have the right clothes to change into. Let’s just do a drive-through.”

Kyle glanced over at her – she was wearing one of her more daring one-pieces that, while objectively it covered her up more than most, had a rather thin and translucent white top that didn’t leave much to the imagination and would undoubtedly show even more if it was wet. He didn’t mind looking at her wearing that, not in the slightest, but it wouldn’t go over very well in a burger shack or a truck stop. Or, he thought, it might go over a little too well. Either way, he agreed with her. “Works for me,” he said.

They still had to go about ten miles to get to the nearest burger shack with a drive-through, but it only took a couple minutes to get their food and find a spot in the parking lot to eat it. “This has been a good evening,” she said as she took the wrapper off her burger. “We are getting a lot done, and we’re getting some good ones.”

“I’ve enjoyed it,” he smiled. “You are a great model to work with, mostly because you know what you’re looking for.”

“Yes, but it’s nice having your vision to help me develop it. The important part is that we’re getting a pretty good collection built up, and that’s taking some load off me and allows some time for other things. Kyle, are you doing anything Saturday?”

“I have nothing planned, except for what you want me to do.”

She took a bite of her burger and swallowed it before she replied, “This is a little different. One of my friends in my old hometown is going to be having a pool party, and she invited me over. Since my parents moved to Texas, I don’t have much reason to go home these days except to see her and some of my other friends there. I’m afraid that the last time I talked with her, I mentioned that I’d been seeing you, and she asked me to bring you along.”

“Sure, I’m up for it. I’m always ready to see you in a swimsuit. Do I take a camera?”

“Not this time, I think,” she replied. “Kyle, this is going to be a little tricky. Marcie is a friend, but she doesn’t know anything about Chastity White or the website. At least I don’t think she does, and we’re going to have to be very careful to not hint anything about it.”

“I’m sure I can do subtle if I have to. I can understand why you want to keep it a secret.”

“I wish I didn’t have to, and maybe someday I won’t,” she sighed. “But for right now it’s probably the best idea. I think I can trust you with this, Kyle. Look, it’s a pretty long haul to Marcie’s place, close to a hundred and fifty miles, and then it’s mostly slow road. Do you want to take the Spitfire? It’s no problem for me if we take my car.”

“I have no problem taking the Spitfire that far. It’s, well, it’s a little more reliable than the average English car out of that era. Some of them you can’t drive across a mall parking lot without a thousand dollar repair bill. They’re sort of like that old song, ‘Get out and get under.’ I’d say if the weather looks like it’s going to be a ragtop day, we could take it. If it’s going to be grungy or rainy, maybe we’d better take this or the pickup.”

“Let’s take the Spitfire if we can. It ought to be fun on some of those roads, and, well, that car gives me a good feeling. I see why you call it your fun car.”

It was a little later than usual when they got together on Saturday morning, and it was going to be nice enough all day to take the Triumph. When Kyle got to Chelsea’s apartment, she came out wearing short shorts and a tank top with a long-sleeved print shirt that had the tails tied across her belly. For looking casual, she looked gorgeous. Of course, she had the duffel bag she often carried, and he guessed that she had her swimsuit for the day in it, along with who knew what else. Most likely she didn’t have more than one or two suits, since for once they didn’t plan on taking any photos today.

After a little planning at both the burger shack and on the phone the night before, they’d decided to stop about halfway to Marcie’s for lunch, and that would also allow a break from the noise and the wind that came around the windshield. They’d also decided to take an even more roundabout route than Chelsea would normally drive, just to take advantage of some more scenic routes, even if they took longer to get there.

It was a nice drive along mostly country roads, occasionally going through small towns. The roads weren’t real twisty, but there was no desire to go fast. It was just exactly what Kyle thought of as a perfect day – a nice drive in a fun car with a beautiful girl on the seat beside him. It would be hard for life to be much better. Lunch was in a little country café they happened to find along the way, and it was pretty good if nothing extra special; soon they were back on the road again.

Under Chelsea’s direction, they pulled into Marcie’s house just about the time they expected to be there. Marcie proved to be a rather smiley sort of person, a little shorter than Chelsea, but rather heavier, with black hair barely chin length. Kyle thought she had a married-and-mommy look to her, and his guess proved to be correct – it proved later that she had two little kids, but they were off at grandma’s house for the afternoon.

“So you’re Kyle,” Marcie smiled as Chelsea introduced them. “Chelsea has been telling me a lot about you.”

That statement surprised him a little. Yes, he and Chelsea had gotten to be a little friendly, and maybe in a reach he’d thought they could refer to themselves as boyfriend and girlfriend. But if Chelsea had been telling Marcie as much about him as Marcie seemed to indicate, maybe he’d made more of an impression on Chelsea than he’d thought. Women were hard to read sometimes, so why should Chelsea be any different? “I hope what she’s been telling you has been good,” he replied, deciding quickly to not make a smart remark instead.

“Oh, yeah, she says you’re quite the guy.” Marcie turned to Chelsea and said, “Maybe having your boyfriend here will keep a few of the other guys tongues from hanging out. That suit you had on the last time you were here, well, I’m still hearing about it.”

“I told you I wouldn’t do the same thing when I have Kyle with me,” Chelsea replied demurely. “In fact, I brought the most conservative swimsuit I own.”

“I hope so,” Marcie shook her head. “You showed up the rest of us so bad it wasn’t funny. Bud couldn’t keep his eyes off you all afternoon.”

“Maybe I overdid it a little,” Chelsea replied mildly apologetically. “I guess I’d better go change. Come on, Kyle, I need your help on this a little.”

It was pretty clear to Kyle that there was a little more going on here than met the eye, and on several fronts. Among other things, Chelsea was close to a quick-change artist when it came to swimsuits, even one-pieces, and had no problem changing in front of him out alongside a road somewhere so long as there was no obvious traffic nearby. She didn’t seem to mind whether he watched or not, though he was sure she knew he enjoyed it. Maybe it didn’t matter, because by now he’d done nude shots of her on more than one occasion, although that clearly was something Marcie didn’t know. But to have her invite his help in front of Marcie appeared to be sending some sort of message, and he didn’t exactly know the code.

Kyle followed Chelsea into a downstairs bathroom in the house. As soon as Chelsea shut the door, he asked, “What was that all about?”

“What was what all about?”

“That bit about the swimsuit you wore the last time, for starters.”

“Well, it was one of my hotter ones,” she giggled. “It didn’t exactly show anything, it wasn’t transparent or anything like that, but it was sort of bare in the back.”

“A thong job,” he smiled.

“Well, yeah,” she grinned. “I guess I did have a few of the guys watching me now and then.”

“With their eyes popping out of their heads all the time.”

“Yeah, and their wives having a few words to say about it, too,” she laughed as she started peeling off her clothes. “Of course the guys were asking their wives why they wouldn’t wear anything like that, and some of the responses they got were really funny. Of course, I was the only single girl here, so that didn’t help anything. It got a little touchy, even though most of these people are my friends, so I sort of promised to be a little more conservative this time.”

“OK, I can understand wanting to keep the peace. But why do you need my help?”

“Because this swimsuit is a bitch to get on and it’s even worse to get off. I’ve only worn it once and I barely managed to get it on. It would be nice if it had a liner, because that would make it easier to get on and off but it wouldn’t stretch right. I thought I’d either have to use shears or call the fire department rescue squad to get it off. I didn’t want to do either one since this is also the most expensive swimsuit I own, so I finally managed it myself. I brought it because I think this one will shut Marcie up about my swimsuits once and for all.”

It proved that Chelsea was dead right about getting the swimsuit on. It was made of thin black latex, and was very stretchy – but was also very sticky on her skin, and didn’t slide over it very well, even with liberal applications of baby powder on both the suit and Chelsea’s skin – something Kyle really didn’t mind helping her with. They got it up to her waist fairly easily, but mostly because it was cut high in the thighs – it wasn’t that conservative – but from there on it was a four-handed job, especially because it had short, tight sleeves partway down her upper arms. Finally they had it pulled up, and Chelsea buttoned it closed at a collar around her neck, leaving only a small teardrop-shaped hole that didn’t reach far enough down her chest to bare any part of her breasts.

As soon as they were done, Kyle stepped back to take a look at her. “Hooo-ly crap,” he said. “I can’t believe we managed to pack you into that thing.”

“It only comes in one size, too small,” she grinned. “If I was half my size it would still be too small. And it’s certainly not the most comfortable swimsuit I own, either.”

“It covers a lot more than any others of yours I’ve seen,” he laughed. “Even that peach job you wore while we were washing the Spitfire last weekend. But this one has to be the most uncovered covered-up I’ve ever seen. I mean, it doesn’t leave much to the imagination, and it’s so slick and shiny, hell, it may top that thong job you were talking about for being eye-catching.”

“It’ll be even better when it’s wet,” she grinned. “Come on, change, and let’s go out and watch Marcie’s jaw drop.”

It only took Kyle a few moments to change, and then he followed her out of the bathroom and through the house to the pool. Since he was behind her, he got a really great show – while the black latex covered everything, it did so very snugly, almost like a second skin, and it was even more amazing than normal to watch the way her body moved when she moved. There was some serious booty action going on there.

When the two of them stepped out onto the deck, there were a dozen or more people hanging around the pool or in it, most apparently near their age. They were equally divided between men and women, some in the pool, and some on the deck with cans of beverages. Just at a quick glance, Kyle thought Chelsea was easily prettier than any of the other women, and certainly had the sexiest build – most of them seemed pretty well-fed to his eye. A boom box was playing country-western music, and there was a lot of talking and horseplay going on.

He didn’t get much chance to look, at least just then, because he was aware that a hush fell over the pool, and he heard someone say in a low voice, “Holy crap! Would you look at that?”

“Hi, everybody,” Chelsea replied, acting completely oblivious to the reaction she was getting. “I want you to meet my boyfriend Kyle. He doesn’t bite, I promise.”

“Chelsea …” Marcie started to say, then caught herself. “You did it again. I guess you kept your promise, but good grief!”

“Come on, Kyle, let’s go swimming,” Chelsea smiled, still ostensibly ignoring the stares she was getting. “I want you to meet everyone.” She dropped the towel she was carrying on a handy lounge chair, and dove into the pool. Kyle was right behind her; at least being in the pool would cover up the amusement on his face.

They messed around in the pool for a while, and Kyle’s biggest impression of the swimsuit that Chelsea was wearing slowly formed: she seemed like a seal. The black latex was very shiny and slippery, and so was she. He knew there was a bit of an exhibitionist in her, a bit of a showoff, and she was sure doing it today, not that he minded in the slightest.

Kyle wasn’t much of a swimmer, so after a while he got out of the pool and found a place on a lounge chair, while Chelsea got involved in a sort of impromptu water volleyball game. It was his first chance to just look around as Chelsea had been keeping him busy. The pool and deck were crowded; more people had showed up since they had arrived.

It was interesting to look at the women, especially; most of them wore bikinis, and pretty scanty ones in some cases, especially considering that some of the bikinis were on bodies that didn’t fit his idea of bikini bodies. Just as a guess, Chelsea was wearing more by herself than most of the rest of the women were combined – but she somehow managed to show off more, too. Objectively speaking, most of them were a little on the too-small side for their wearer’s bodies, not that most men would consider that there could be such a thing in a woman’s swimsuit, he thought wryly. A couple of the swimsuits seemed a bit precarious and their wearers seemed to be having some trouble keeping things covered.

He couldn’t help but wonder how much of that had been in reaction to Chelsea’s attendance at Marcie’s last pool party, and couldn’t help but wonder about the next one. Would most of the women at that one be wearing tight latex one-pieces? And, if that swimsuit was tight on Chelsea, what would it be like on some of the more well-fed women he saw splashing around in the pool, or lounging around the deck? That would really be a sight to see, and least if he and Chelsea got invited back the next time.

“You know,” he heard a man’s voice say, “You’re a lucky guy.”

“I think so,” Kyle replied, looking up at a bearded, dark-haired guy about his age. “I sure enjoy the looking.”

“And more than that, I’ll bet,” the guy grinned. “I don’t think we got introduced. I’m Bud, Marcie’s husband.”

“Kyle Murray. Pleased to meet you.”

“You like a beer or something?”

“Or something, if you don’t mind. I’m driving, and I don’t mix the two.”

“You’re probably wise. How about a Diet Pepsi?”

“Works for me.”

In a moment Bud was back, carrying a silver can sweating with beads of dew. He handed it to Kyle, and sat down on the next lounge chair. “I figured something like that was going to happen,” he grinned. “Marcie made such a big deal about that last swimsuit Chelsea wore to one of these things, and I knew Chelsea was going to do something to one-up her again.”

“I’ll bet it wasn’t the way Marcie was expecting, either,” Kyle laughed.

“Sure wasn’t,” Bud shook his head. “I’ve been imagining how Marcie would look in one of those things. You ever heard the story about what Dolly Parton said one time after she had what they call a ‘wardrobe malfunction’ with those big gazongas of hers? She said it was like putting fifty pounds of mud in a five-pound sack.”

“Might not be a bad description. Chelsea says that swimsuit only comes in one size, and it’s tight on her. Some of these other gals, well, the sight would be beyond description.”

“It might be fun to watch at that,” Bud laughed. “Have you known Chelsea long?”

“Not real long, only a few weeks, but she sure has been a fun person the whole time.”

“Oh, yeah, she always has been. Marcie and I knew her all through school. She was never what you would call a party girl, and she usually was pretty serious about what she was doing, but she always seemed to see the bright side of things despite that.”

“I really don’t know her that well, but that’s been my experience,” Kyle told him. “She’s a lot of fun to be around and seems to have a pretty good head on her shoulders.”

“Yeah, that’s Chelsea. You know, the funny thing about her was that she was never all that snappy a dresser when she was in high school. I mean, she was like the other girls, seldom went out of her way to dress up for attention. But when we’d go to a pool party or something like that, she was always showing the other girls up. I don’t know why that is.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about women, it’s pointless to try to figure out why they do something.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve figured that out the hard way,” Bud agreed. “But you know, it’s strange to see her bring a guy to one of these things. She was never much for dating in high school and I get the impression that not much has changed since. I guess it always seemed like she had other things more important to do.”

“Like I said, I don’t know her well enough to make a judgment. We’re just getting to know each other, and I have to say that I like what I see. But since we’re still in the getting-to-know-each-other stage, neither of us have probably yet seen much of what lies beneath the surface.”

“It never ends. Hell, I’ve known Marcie most of my life, and I’m still finding out things about her I never knew before.”

Kyle and Bud talked about Chelsea for a while longer, but Kyle soon realized he wasn’t finding out much that he didn’t already know. He had known from the first that she had her own motivations and her own goals. Sure, he was useful to her, and they’d had some fun along the way, but was he any more than a photographer to her, a prop for the little show she’d put on for her friends at this pool party? At this stage of their relationship, could he be any more than that? Maybe that was why people who hit it off well often took a lot of time before they got serious, to get over doubts like that. He had no way of telling.

Although he’d had a great deal of fun with her in the short time he’d known her, he couldn’t help but think that maybe he was getting too serious a little too quickly. Take your time, he thought. If it happens, it happens, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

“Hey, Kyle!” he heard Chelsea call. “These people want to have chicken fight. Jump in the pool so I can get up on your shoulders!”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. This would be fun, and it would be nice to be close to Chelsea, so he could enjoy the feel of the skin of her thighs on his neck, and to enjoy the slippery sensation feeling that slick wet latex on her body. He got up, and dove into the pool, heading toward her. He could sit back and think about what it all meant some other time.

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