Scuba desires


An older story reposted.

She quietly works in her office, studiously going over reports. In the back of her mind she wonders why she’s still single, why she has no one to go home to. But deep down she knows why.

She’s still bitter about her breakup two years ago. She hasn’t allowed any man to get close to her since. Those who’ve tried have been rebuffed, some more rudely than others.

She’s made it a point to be a strong-willed bitch to everyone around her. She’s introspective and knows this is who she is. Sometimes it bothers her, but in the end it keeps her at a distance from those around her.

She places her papers down on her desk and listens intently for the sound of the janitor. But the hall outside is quiet. The distinct hum of the floor buffer she heard earlier is no longer echoing in the building.

A quick check of the wall clock indicates the old man has probably finished and gone home to his wife. She sighs heavily. At least he has someone to go home to. Then she reminds herself she prefers it this way.

She’s alone in the building, alone with a need that is growing within her. It’s an ache for intimacy, true companionship. ‘Well,’ she tells herself. ‘Perhaps I’m alone. But I know how to satisfy that other itch.’

She gets up out of her office chair and slips out of her high-heeled shoes. She also removes her jacket. Then she strides out the door and down the hall with purpose.

She knows this will delay her getting home. But there’s nothing to go home to. She doesn’t even own a pet.

She moves through the darkened halls with growing excitement. She’s starting to anticipate what is about to come. This is the one thing that satisfies her the most.

She didn’t invest in the diving school just to make money. Being the sole proprietor allows her to use the facilities as she pleases. And tonight she’s going to please herself once more while driving those longings away.

She rounds the corner and pushes through the double doors. Immediately she’s hit by the smell of chlorine as the diving pool lies before her. The scent is strangely intoxicating, perhaps because it reminds her of the pleasures to come.

Her one, true companion throughout the last couple of years has been the water. She’s spent a lot of her free time in this diving pool. Even now she hears it call to her as it always does, promising her pleasures of the deep.

Her heart rate quickens as she strides over to the equipment locker. She picks out a suitable scuba tank and dive mask. Then she begins to undress.

As she begins to shed her office clothes, her business persona evaporates. The bitch she portrays by day disappears. In its place is a woman in her thirties who’s still fairly attractive and hasn’t hit the wall yet.

The blouse and skirt come off, followed by her bra and panties. She is alone in the building, out of view of prying eyes. No one is around to interrupt her dive.

Deep down she does not really prefer it this way. But her life patterns are too ingrained, her habits too etched in stone to change. She’s not even sure what she would do if a handsome young man were to barge in on her right now.

Her nipples are hard as she checks her equipment. Soon she will enter the cool embrace of her watery lover. Her breathing quickens as she checks her regulator, making sure it’s functioning properly.

She reaches over for a weight belt she is familiar with, one she knows is a little too heavy for her. But she doesn’t want to be neutrally buoyant. She wants to be taken down to the bottom of the diving pool and be made love to by cool water.

She wraps the belt around her bare waist. Then she hefts the scuba gear onto her back, strapping it onto her 5′ 8″ frame. Her breasts tingle with anticipation.

She notices she’s already wet down below. But she tells herself to be patient. It won’t be much longer now.

She places the regulator between her full lips and breathes deeply. She picks up the dive mask, pulls it down over her head and snugs it to her face. Then she walks up to the edge of the dive pool.

The lights are dimmed, the surface smooth as glass. She stares down into the depths, the sound of her breathing through the regulator echoing in the dive chamber. She hears the pool call to her once more, causing her to gasp excitedly as she steps forward off the edge of the pool.

There is an instant shock to her system as her naked body is engulfed by cool water. She feels goose pimples break out all over as her nipples harden considerably. She shivers with excitement.

Immediately she places her hands behind her back and grabs onto her wrists. She fantasizes a world where she no longer controls everything around her. It is her escape from the demands of her business.

She struggles briefly as though she’s been forced into this situation. She feels the excitement build down between her legs. The weight belt takes her downward into the depths.

The pressure builds all around her. For a moment she is forced to set fantasy aside long enough to pinch her nose through the dive mask and equalize, easing the strain in her ears. Then her hand returns to her other one behind her back.

She begins to struggle in earnest, squeezing her thighs together as she sinks ever downward. In her mind she is forced into this predicament. She “doesn’t know” if she’ll be able to get back up before she runs out of air.

Her feet touch bottom, 25 feet down. She slowly topples over onto her back, careful not to ding her dive tank. Then she lies like that for several minutes, the only sound being her breath through the regulator.

She lies there struggling, allowing her excitement to build. In her mind’s eye she waits on the ocean floor for what will come next. She has been left to drown.

Will she be rescued? It seems unlikely. Then her fantasy morphs into the next phase.

A strong man comes down in scuba gear, finding her in her predicament. He reaches out to caress her quivering breasts. Immediately she pulls her hands out from behind her back.

She starts to touch her 36Bs. Her breasts are soft and sensitive. Touching them sends shock waves of pleasure coursing through her body, heightening her arousal.

She’s still helpless, unable to free herself. She wonders what he intends to do to her. Her heart races as the exhaust from her regulator bubbles to the surface.

She continues to play with her breasts, fingering her nipples while gently caressing herself. She imagines it’s her captor who is doing it. He has strapped scuba gear onto her naked body and dropped her here for his own nefarious purposes.

She mentally fights against him. But a part of her wishes he would touch her somewhere else. She wants him to touch her where her need is the most severe.

She continues to caress her breasts, working herself up into a lather the way her fantasy man would do. He is holding back, focusing intently on her chest and its many sensory inputs. It drives her mad with desire.

Her eyes plead with him to touch her in a more intimate location. But he refuses. Her naked body shivers with longing.

The lighting is dim, the only sound being her breathing through her regulator. She’s almost certain she can hear the sound of her heart hammering in her chest. She moans helplessly.

‘TAKE ME!’ she pleads silently with her fantasy man. ‘DO TO ME AS YOU WILL!’ A moment later he does just that as she can stand it no longer.

Her hand snakes down until her fingers find her swollen clit and swirl over the top of it. Her body instantly tenses up. Then she mentally begs him to fill her with his throbbing manhood as she plunges two fingers into her clenching womanhood.

Her eyes snap open as her back arches. She screams in pleasure, the orgasm slamming into her with the impact of a runaway locomotive. Bubbles froth out of her regulator as she gasps for breath, her body spasming in sexual ecstasy.

It mercifully passes as she caresses her breasts in the afterglow of orgasm. Then an image comes to mind. It’s one of her diving instructors, a handsome young man who works for her dive shop.

Her eyes widen in surprise that she’s thinking about him. She suddenly thrusts those same two fingers into her pussy. Now she is imagining it is him that is fucking her.

She has rebuffed a couple of his advances. Yet he always smiles at her each time she passes by. It’s as though he knows something.

In her mind she feels his blue eyes looking right through her with longing. Her whole body quivers unexpectedly as she thrusts hard into her opening. It hits her again, harder than last time.

She stiffens and cries out as the orgasm washes through her body. It triggers little fires of desire in every nerve ending. Why does she keep thinking about him?

She hears the exhaust from her regulator. Bubbles race each other to the surface as she jerks and spasms with incredible pleasure. She feels the cool embrace of her watery lover.

For a moment her vision goes dim. But it soon returns. She sucks hard on the regulator in an attempt to get her breath back.

A moment later her fantasy image is gone. She realizes she is all alone again. She feels so terribly alone. Does it really need to be this way?

Her eyes open with revelation as she sits up, pulling air into her lungs from the tank on her back. Perhaps it is time to let go of the past. Then the image of the instructor comes to mind once again.

Perhaps it’s time to let go and start anew. She already knows one other person who seems to share her love of scuba. It is he who she wants to share her fantasy with.

Perhaps the next time he looks at her she should not turn away…

She suddenly kicks off the bottom and swims for the surface. Her heart much lighter than it had been when she stepped into the dive pool. There’s an element of hope that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps she can change her future.

She breaks the surface and swims over to the ladder. She climbs out, her heart beating rapidly with a strange excitement. As she sheds her equipment, she finds herself impatient for the new day that is to come just a few hours hence.

She carefully stows her dive gear before making use of one of the towels that lie in a pile nearby. Then she slips back into her clothes. She winces slightly as she looks at them.

She vows to wear something a little less formal to work tomorrow. She can still look business-like. But she can also appear more feminine.

She pushes through the double doors and leaves the dive pool. Maybe it’s time to leave the “bitch” at the bottom of the dive pool. Maybe that’s what her fantasies signify. Maybe it’s time to give that up and become someone else…

2006; 2019 (written Dec 21 ’06; ed. Aug 2 ‘19 by riwa)

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