WET [Part 10 - The Getaway Games]
My summer at the adults-only water park…
All week, I’d been looking forward to my day off. A day to sleep in, to lie by the staff pool where the only sounds were the distant laughter of guests and the gentle hum of the ice machine. And that’s exactly what I was doing; sprawled on a lounge chair, half-asleep, a book lying open on my stomach.
“Wakey wakey, bitch!”
I didn’t need to open my eyes to know it was Rose, her voice vibrant and cheery as it pierced my sleepy little sanctuary.
“Ugh,” I managed. “What’s up?”
“Don’t you know what day it is?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said, my eyes still closed. “It’s my day off.”
“Nope,” she said, grabbing my hand and gently pulling me up into a seated position. “Something better than that.”
I opened my eyes to see that her bikini was little more than a few triangles of string. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, a dangerous energy radiating from her. I pulled my sunglasses down over my eyes and groaned. “Better than a day off? Hmm. Pay rise?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s the Getaway Games!”
“The what?” I peered over my sunglasses. “That sounds like something I want absolutely no part of.”
“Wrong again,” she grinned, grabbing my hand and pulling me up. “It’s the best day of the year! All the college groups are here for their end-of-summer blowout, and every year we host. It’s basically a rite of passage. Best bikini, best ass, the whole deal. It’s hilarious. You should enter!”
“Absolutely not. I’m not putting my body on display for a bunch of horny college kids to judge...”
“Oh, come on,” she whined. “Everyone’s so drunk they won’t even remember it tomorrow. Please? I don’t want to go up there alone.”
“You’re entering?” I said. “Why?”
”Because I’m hot! In case you haven’t noticed.” She spun around in her bikini. “And the top prize is five-hundred dollars.”
“Five-hundred?” I repeated.
Rose laughed. “Ah, you’re interested now, aren’t you?”
I rolled my eyes and lay back down. “Maybe next year.”
“Noooooo,” Rose grabbed my hand and pulled me back up again. “Please, Sarah, I need you. You’re the only other female member of staff with the day off today. Don’t make me go alone…”
Before I could formulate another refusal, the sound of music boomed from the other side of the park. Even at this distance, from the safety of the secluded staff pool, I could tell it was going to be loud.
And I was right.
Ten minutes later and I was in the thick of it, a cocktail in my hand, the music vibrating my ribcage. The area around the stage was already packed, a sea of tanned, laughing bodies. It was my first time experiencing Azure as a guest rather than staff, and the mood was admittedly infectious. We’d found a spot near the front, and I watched, a reluctant smile on my face, as a handful of women, already tipsy and giggling, danced on the stage, modeling for the best-bikini contest, the atmosphere one of freedom and fun rather than serious competition.
There was a girl in a white crochet number that was practically see-through, another who had strategically placed seashells over her nipples, and another who looked as if her bikini was liquid metal painted onto her skin. Each one had a little routine; a sassy hip-sway, a playful hair flip, a dramatic pout for the judges. Before long, I was fully into it, cheering and whooping and laughing with the rest of the crowd as each woman strutted their stuff. Before long, a winner was crowned, and the MC was taking centre stage once more.
“And now,” he bellowed into the mic. “For the event you’ve all been waiting for! The Best Azure Ass competition! I need five volunteers! Come on, ladies, don’t be shy!”
“This is our round.” Rose said, her hand shooting into the air before I even registered what she’d said. “Right here!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the noise. “Both of us!”
My stomach dropped. I turned to her, eyes wide behind my sunglasses. “What are you doing?” I hissed.
She didn’t look at me. She was already pointing. Directly at me.
“She’s shy, but she’ll do it!”
The MC leaned forward, squinting into the crowd, then grinned as his eyes locked onto mine. “Perfect! You guys are up! Who else?”
My blood ran cold. I shook my head, my face burning. But Rose was behind me, her hands on my back, pushing. “Come on!” she laughed. “Let’s go! It’ll be fun!”
“No!” I protested, but I was already being pushed forward, carried by the crowd. Seconds later and we were being helped onto the stage with the other three volunteers, the audience of college-partiers cheering our arrival. I stood there, frozen in my simple blue swimsuit, feeling like an idiot.
“Alright, ladies!” the MC yelled. “The rules are simple! Show us what you’ve got and win a prize! Round one: The Twerk-Off!”
I looked at Rose with reproach, chastising her through gritted teeth. “What the fuck, Rose, I don’t know how to twerk!”
But Rose was smiling out at the crowd, her face illuminated with the buzz of adulation. “Fake it till you make it, baby!” she squealed, turning her back on the crowd and pushing her ass out toward them. A heavy bass beat dropped, and the other four women immediately started moving, their bodies flowing with ease and confidence, hips rippling, thighs undulating, their heads turned to look back over their shoulders.
I stood there, stiff and awkward, my hands clasped in front of me.
“Come on, Blue Bikini!” the MC shouted, pointing a foam finger at me. “Shake what your mama gave you!”
I felt the humiliation consume me, filling me up from my toes to my chest. I wanted to jump off the stage and run back to my room and never come out. But then I saw him. Pete. Standing at the edge of the crowd in his uniform, his eyes squinted toward me, as if he couldn’t really believe it was me. Hell, I couldn’t really believe it was me. Seeing him there, watching me, remembering our moment together behind the bar only a few days previous, a different feeling rose up within me. It was the same feeling I’d had with Mr. Henderson on the massage table.
A sudden, defiant surge of fuck it.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and then I let go. I bent my knees, planted my hands on my thighs, and just...moved. I think it might have been kind of clumsy at first, but the beat took over and I let my hips swing, my body moving in a way it never never moved before outside of getting fucked.
A cheer went up and I pushed my ass out further, arching my back, consumed by the response from the crowd, and for the first time, I wasn’t thinking about how I looked. I was just feeling the music, feeling the eyes on me, and instead of shrinking away from it, I leaned into it.
Put simply, I was enjoying it.
“Keep the music going!” The MC called into the mic. “It’s time for round two; the Booty Blast!”
Before I had time to react, I felt a sudden pressure on my ass, and turned to see two guys holding industrial-looking hoses, pointing them at us as they hosed us with water. The other women squealed and laughed as they were hit with the jets, continuing to twerk to the music. I followed suit, hair plastered to my face and my swimsuit clinging to my skin as I continued to gyrate my ass for the crowd, the water washing away the last of my inhibitions. I swear to god that the guys controlling the hoses were aiming for my pussy, and I dropped to my hands and knees, spreading wider, letting them do it, grinding and pulsing against the stream, the thin fabric of my swimsuit offering no real barrier against it.