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Many years ago, I asked my parents to pay the expenses for a professional lifeguard class as my eighteenth birthday gift. I’d been on the swim team at school, and although I had not excelled at it, I felt comfortable in the water. I thought that being a lifeguard in the summers while I got my two-year degree in auto mechanics sounded like a good plan.

I talked to my coach about it, and learned that the state where we lived had strict requirements for the job. I’d have to take a 5-day class, and earn certificates in resuscitation and first aid, as well as lifesaving. These were the equivalents to today’s CPR, first responder, and water rescue. The closest course offered was near the city 80 miles away, so I would have to stay there. But, he told me, the class was held on a private lake in a wooded area, and there was a campground. I could stay there very cheaply, and most everyone did. I was a camper and hiker, so I already had a tent and sleeping bag. I was set.

“I know of two other people from the area that are attending, Mack,” the coach told me, “Brian Dossler and Renee Cuban.” I knew Brian from our swim team, but Renee Cuban! There was a name from times past.

When I was a kid, a few of the neighborhood boys and I would hang out during summer vacation at the community pool. We’d roll our trunks in towels and walk across town to swim all day, then walk home, drying in the sun. We learned swimming and diving and let the pool’s underwater return pipe blast off our trunks, and generally had a great time.

One of the things we did was dare each other to cop feels from the girls. This required swimming up behind them secretly, brushing a boob or a butt, and diving away with a splash to make our escape underwater. My target was always Renee Cuban. I liked her looks. She was tall and blonde and had a nice smile. We were in the same grade school, but she was very smart and had a different circle of friends than I did. We never actually talked together, it was just kid’s stuff. She probably didn’t even remember me.

When her parents moved away in sixth grade, I lost touch with her. But I’d seen her again this last year from across the pool at one of the statewide swim meets. She was a very good diver, and took home the silver. I still liked her looks.

I thought about Renee a lot, waiting for summer and the class to begin. I told Brian about her, but he was the class clown, and just made a joke about it. We hitched a ride with my dad, and arrived early at the lake, registered for class at the office, and set up our tents in the camping area. There were some people there already, all ages, and I kept my eye open for Renee, but it was still early.

Brian needed to see an instructor about something, so I walked down to the lake to get the lay of the land. It was a tiny lake, maybe a quarter of a mile across. A third of it was roped off as a swimming area and was gravel bottomed, the rest was surrounded by cabins and trailers and fairly high trees. There was a low and high board, a high guard chair, picnic tables, a snack stand and concrete block changing rooms. Apparently, people would drive out from the city for a day’s recreation for a small fee. It was homey and I felt comfortable there.

I was getting a soda at the snack stand when I saw Renee. She looked great; tall, very slender, with long legs, no boobs to speak of, and a beautiful elfin face. She was wearing a blue one-piece swimsuit with her school crest on it. She kept her blonde hair in a ponytail.

I walked over and said, “Hi, Renee, remember me?”

She smiled broadly and said, “Sure. You’re Mackensie Davis.”

We shook hands. She still had a great smile, and I noticed for the first time, green eyes. We sat down at one of the tables and talked. I was usually very shy around girls. I was still a virgin, which in all fairness to me was not that uncommon then. My experience with girls consisted of standing around in the gym at a few dances, and necking a little at my junior prom with a girl I didn’t know very well. But I found it very easy to talk to Renee. She had the same plan that I did: work as a lifeguard while going to school. She was going to study biology at the State University, and wanted to be a teacher. We really seemed to hit it off. While we were talking, another girl walked up and Renee introduced her as Julie, her tent mate. Julie wasn’t taking the class, she was a year older than Renee, had a job, and was keeping Renee company and having some summer fun. Then Brian showed up, and we did the introduction thing again. Brian asked Julie if she wanted to get a coke, and they walked off.

Let’s go over to the office, there’s something I want to check,” Renee said. We walked over to where rules and notices hung in a glass frame.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“It’s a requirement of the Department of Health,” she answered, “Public pools have to post the fecal coliform test results every day. See, it’s listed here. It’s very low.”

“What’s a fecal coliform?” bahis firmaları I asked.

“It’s harmful bacteria, from babies crapping their diapers in the water, mainly. They control it with chlorination, just like any pool. See?” She pointed to a small metal shack at the shore near the rope. “That’s the chlorination equipment and the pump. There’s a big pipe that runs across the lake near the rope. But you know what? Fish still live in the lake! If you stand still, you’ll feel them nibbling at your toes.”

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

“We live near here,” she grinned, “My family comes here all the time.”

Our first class was at 9:00 AM, so we headed over to a roped-off area and a big tent with picnic tables that served as our classroom. There were workbook handouts, forms about our previous experience to fill out, and releases to sign. They introduced five instructors for the thirty of us, and they explained how the course would progress. We hoped to have classroom work from 8:00 AM to 11:00, a lunch break, into the water through the hot part of the day, then a short lab until 5:00 PM. It was a full schedule. Then they started right in on resuscitation.

Renee disappeared during lunch. Brian and I returned to the tents to get our trunks on and talked about the class and the girls. He seemed to like Julie. I saw him during class checking her out as she fooled around on the boards in her yellow bikini. She was very attractive.

In the afternoon the instructors evaluated our swimming ability and split us up into groups of four to six students per instructor. Renee was placed in the advanced group. I hit the middle with Brian. At the end of the swim period as we were breaking up, Renee swam over, looked around, and suddenly gripped both of my asscheeks in her hands and squeezed hard.

“Payback,” she yelled, laughing, and dove away with a big splash. My God, she DID remember!

We started to learn mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on a crappy looking dummy, then dismissed for the day. The three of us joined Julie at the snack stand, where we had some burgers and watched the “civilians” swim, that is, the customers using the lake. We decided we’d have a cookout the next night at the guys’ tents. Then we walked back to the campground and said goodbye. Brian and I spent an hour carting wood to feed the fire ring, and then we went down to the snack stand and arranged to get raw hotdogs and buns and such for the next evening. We studied our workbooks until it got too dark to read, then hit the hay.

The next morning as we were making tea and oatmeal on my little gasoline stove, Julie stopped by our camp and asked if the girls could bring anything to the cookout.

Brian, always the joker, said, “Sure, rubbers.”

She stared at him seriously and said, “No problem,” and left. We looked at each other and I made a low whistle. Brian joked that “we were going to get resuscitated tonight”. This was getting interesting.

The class was getting more intense, and if I had any thoughts that it was just going to be a summer lark, I quickly found out differently. But I was learning a lot. We studied various lifesaving techniques in the morning, and practiced them on each other in the afternoon. Brian and Julie ate together, but Renee wasn’t around at lunchtime again, so I just used the time to study. Since we were in different groups, I didn’t see much of her in the afternoon, either, but the rumor was that she got every answer right on the pop quiz.

When class finally ended, we were excited about our evening together. Everyone changed into jeans and tees, but Julie kept her skimpiest bikini top on, and Brian’s eyes were bugging out when she bent over to pick up wood. I left my trunks on, they were completely dry by then. We built a fire and roasted dogs and ate chips and sprayed warm soft drinks on each other, and just had a great time. When it got dark, Brian and Julie stood up and said they were going to take a walk. There were still a lot of civilians around, so I asked Renee if she’d like to see my tent. She got up and crawled in. I unzipped the sleeping bag so that it covered the whole floor, lit a candle lantern, and we stretched out.

“This is nice,” she said. She didn’t seem nervous in the slightest.

“Renee, where do you go every day at lunchtime?” I asked.

“I pray,” was her simple answer. I didn’t know what to say after that, so I just lay there. She moved in close to me and gave me a light kiss on the mouth.

“It’s okay,” she said, “people who pray are just people.”

“I know,” I laughed, “I go to church, sometimes. Tell me, are you seeing anyone?”

“No, boys aren’t interested in me,” she said, glancing at the front of her tee shirt.

“That is their loss,” I told her sincerely. She smiled brightly.

“What about you, a special girl?” she asked.

“No, there hasn’t been anyone, yet,” I said.

She moved in closer and kissed me again. I kissed her back this time. We just kaçak iddaa melted together and enjoyed each other for a while. She excused herself to go to the restroom, which thankfully gave me the opportunity to adjust my cock, hard and painfully bent inside the swim trunks. Renee returned quickly.

“So, did you girls bring the, uh, rubbers?” I asked, joking.

“Yes, we did,” she said, and dug two foil packets out of her jeans. She held them out for me to see, “Julie had them with her.” I tried to seem casual.

“Have you ever used one of these? She asked.

“No,” I admitted, embarrassed to be so inexperienced.

She thought a moment, then ripped one open, examined it closely, handed it to me and said, “Here, Mack, put it on.”

I couldn’t believe it! She laughed when she saw my expression.

“I’m serious. You should try it now, Mack. Not wait for a crucial moment, and find out too late that it won’t work for you.”

It sounded reasonable, if a little clinical. What the hell, it was sex, sort of. I shrugged off my embarrassment and got to my knees to drop my trunks. My stiff cock bounced upward. She scooted over close to me, engaged in her new project. She reached out to touch me, stopped and looked up, and I told her it was okay. She ran her index finger and thumb up and down my shaft, then enclosed the head with her hand and squeezed. My cock jerked involuntarily. Her eyes widened. She took my entire cock in both her hands and squeezed me gently, over and over, in an undulating motion, like she was milking a cow. A glistening drop of liquid appeared at the tip. I was going to cum if she kept doing that. Maybe that was what she wanted.

“Hard and soft.” she whispered, “It’s beautiful. Here, let me do it. Watch.” She took the rubber, oriented it, and expertly rolled it down over me, pinching out the air and being careful of the hair at the bottom. I looked at her with the question apparent on my face.

“My mom showed me how,” she explained.

“Huh! Why?” I was shocked.

“She loves me,” she said. That gave me something to think about.

She manipulated the rubber with her fingers, coating my cockhead with my wetness. She was so matter of fact about it, it was like going to a female doctor. But it was still sexy.

“How does it feel?” she asked. Instead of groaning or making some lewd remark, I decided to play her game.

“It feels okay at the tip and along the shaft, but it’s fairly tight at the root. It conducts heat well, and the tactile qualities are good. Overall, I’d grade it as serviceable.” We looked at each other and broke up laughing.

Her face was inches from my cock. She gently touched my balls, feeling each one inside its sack, looking at them closely, then cupping the whole works with one palm and testing their weight. I lost my composure and let go a shuddering breath.

She looked at me with complete understanding, then leaned forward and touched her lips to my cockhead briefly, tasting the latex with her tongue. Satisfied, she put her whole mouth over me tentatively, touching lightly. I could feel her breath in the cool night air. Then she moaned a little and closed her mouth tightly and sucked hard, her tongue moving sinuously over my slit. Her mouth was hot, the sensation was overpowering. I literally exploded with cum, groaning, my whole body shaking violently, while she held my convulsing cockhead tightly in her mouth and cradled my balls with both hands. When I stopped breathing hard, she released me and examined the contents of the rubber. Seemingly satisfied, she carefully put the other rubber into the little pocket sewn into the waistband of my trunks. She pulled my trunks all the way up and tied them shut.

She patted my pocket, smiled at me, and said, “It works.”

The next day it rained, and we worked under the tent on first aid and resuscitation. Brian teased me about studying biology with Renee, which everyone picked up on and joined in with. I noticed my classmates started behaving toward me differently after that. Renee coached me on resuscitation technique with the dummy during lunch, which I was having trouble with, and when the state certification instructor checked us out in the afternoon, I passed easily. Renee gave me a big kiss in front of everyone, and I’m sure I turned red when everyone cheered.

There were so many things I wanted to ask Renee. Like why she chose me to be her first sexual experience; about her religious belief. But after class, Renee’s parents picked her up to attend a friend’s graduation party. She slept at home that night. Brian and Julie stayed at her tent. I spent the night studying.

On the fourth day of class, we spent the entire day and part of the evening in the water practicing lifesaving techniques. We had to make up for the rainout. It was tiring, and we all agreed we’d need to study and hit the sack early that night. We’d celebrate after the course ended.

The last day was exams. In the morning we demonstrated kaçak bahis lifesaving techniques on the instructors, showed proficiency in first aid, and took written exams. Then we had a long midday break while the instructors graded us.

We learned that a special event was planned for that evening. The residents on the far side of the lake were incorporating as a town, and they were having a street fair and fireworks to celebrate. The instructors changed the last session to end at dusk instead of 5:00 PM to take advantage of the festive mood. It was a nice gesture for graduation. The civilians were whistled out of the water at eight o’clock, and most of the people changed quickly and drove home into the growing darkness, leaving only the members of the class by the lake.

Renee and I walked down to the lake holding hands. She was wearing a green bikini, a first for her, and she looked great. It was quiet and relaxed at the picnic area. Nothing much was really planned. They passed out certificates and reference materials for job hunters, had a final small lecture with lots of joking around, and a ceremony to give small awards to the most accomplished new guards. I won the “Most Improved” swimming award, a little bronze dolphin jumping on a wooden base. I still have it.

Then we dismissed. We were officially lifeguards. We said our goodbyes to the instructors and some students who were leaving. A few people went in to splash around in the water one last time. Most sat at the tables to watch the show. Renee and I walked out into the chest-deep water at the rope. We were alone, it was really dark now. We kissed with our arms around each other for a while, not talking. Then the fireworks started.

Renee turned away to see, but she reached back, took my arms, and pulled me close to her. My cock was fully erect and upright in my trunks, and she ground her ass against me with obvious pleasure. I took her breasts in my hands. The fireworks show wasn’t an expensive one, there would be one shot, then a long wait, then another shot, but everyone was still “Oooh-ing” and “Awww-ing” at the airbursts, like people do. So I started this little game. When a star shell exploded, I’d push my pelvis against her ass and go “Oooh.” Then she’d push her ass back against my cock and say “Awww.” We were giggling and feeling each other up, when without warning she went quiet.

She reached around behind her, found the string tie on my trucks, pulled it open, and yanked them down. Then she pulled down her own bottom and bumped back against me with her bare ass. I pushed my cock down and thrust it against her butt cheeks. My hardness slipped easily between her wet thighs, and arced upward against her pussy. The sudden feeling of heat in the cool water where our bodies touched was breathtaking. We enthusiastically dry humped each other, if you can call it that underwater. I could feel the top of my cock sliding between her hot cunt lips, spreading them. She moaned softly, touching my cockhead when it emerged at the front of her thighs on forward strokes. She tilted her hips back and opened her legs to increase her exposure, and once my cock slipped right inside her pussy a couple of inches. I caught a glimpse of her face when a firework ignited, she looked like an angel.

“Come on,” she whispered, “let’s do it.”

“Are you sure, Renee?” I asked.

“God, yes. I can’t wait any longer.”

I retrieved the rubber from the pocket of my trunks, and working just by touch, put it on.

“I’m ready,” I said, pushing my hardness between her legs.

Suddenly she rose up half a foot out of the water in front of me. She was standing on the chlorine pipe! She reached down between her legs, inserted my cockhead into her pussy, and stepped backwards off the pipe. She sunk down in the water right onto my cock in one motion, surrounding me with her velvety pussy.

“Oooh,” she whispered.

“Awww,” I agreed.

I loved the sensual feeling of her slim buttocks moving against my abdomen. Loved the way her crack separated down the front of my body and opened over my rigidly upthrust organ. The sexual feel of being enveloped in her warm flesh, of fitting so perfectly into her.

I used Renee’s buoyancy to pick her up by the waist and slide her down onto my cock a few times. The change in temperature as my cock exited and reentered her body was exhilarating. Suddenly she stiffened, moaned and spasmed, clutching my hips and shaking her head, and I knew she wanted me to stop moving. Her channel clenched on me strongly, and she seemed to weaken so that I had to hold her up above the water.

When she recovered, she joked about me having just saved my first life in the water. Then she began rocking her hips against me, and we slowly fucked into each other with a natural, unhurried rhythm that made it seem like we were old established lovers. My palms cupped her pert little titties, and she put her hands over mine, squeezing. I came into her with extraordinary force, felt the rubber mushroom around my cock as my sperm flooded out. I held her tightly, my mouth open on her neck, and felt such a huge outpouring of affection for Renee that I knew somehow we would be together for the rest of our lives.

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