I wander closer to the pool to watch her form. She’s not stretching her arm far enough forward or using her legs to kick. It’s a common issue with untrained swimmers; people forget to kick and end up having their arms do all the work.
She stops at the side, out of breath, standing in the shallow end as she wipes her hair out of her face, and water runs down her back.
“Morning,” I say.
She jumps.
“Oh my goodness. I thought I was alone,” she splutters. Maria turns to face me. Her lashes are dark with water droplets. Her lips are full and pink, and her cheeks are rosy from the exercise and cold water. Her long strawberry-blonde hair is loose and sticking to her shoulders and back in wet curls.
“Sorry,” I chuckle. “Getting your morning exercise in?” I ask, making conversation.
She shrugs and wipes her face self-consciously. “I thought it might help ease some of the frustration of being…um…stuck here.”
I nod, clenching my jaw and looking away from her.
“You’ve got good form, but I could give you some pointers to streamline your style,” I say, dropping my phone onto one of the sun loungers and walking to the shallow end, looking down at her.
Her full breasts are pressed tight against her one-piece blue swimsuit, her nipples raised against the tight fabric.
“You can teach me?” she asks, sounding excited.
“Sure, if you like,” I say, jumping into the water next to her.
“Okay,” she nods, biting at her lip nervously when I step closer to her.
I step behind her, my hands on her hips to turn her so that I can pull her back against my chest.
Instantly, my body hums.
I run my hand down her arm until I’m holding her wrist.
“Move your arm with me, slowly,” I tell her.
I guide her arm in a full circle to show her the correct way to pull through the water.
“You want to keep your arm close to your body and reach as far forward as possible. This way, you streamline the pull and have a smoother stroke,” I explain as I move her arm again, my hand brushing her thigh beneath the water.
She twists her body as she rotates her arm, and I place my hand on her stomach to steady her. “Keep this part straight. Your chest should always face the bottom of the pool, unless you’re taking a breath.”
My heart is beating hard, excitement churning inside me at her closeness.
“Okay, I see, because I was taking much shorter strokes, I think?”
“Yes, you were dipping your hand in here…” I show her. “Instead of here,” I pull her arm high. “You see the difference? That’s how much traction you lost.”
“Alright, let me try again,” she says, eager to give it a go.
I watch as she kicks off the wall and swims across the width of the pool instead of the length, so I can watch her style.
She stops near the wall and immediately turns to look at me, her brows raised with anticipation.
“That was a lot better, swim back to me, but now I want you to move slower. It’s not a race. Rather, focus on your form instead of speed.”
She nods and dives back under the water to kick off from the wall.
Much better. She’s a fast learner and a good listener.
When she reaches me, she stops and grins.“I can feel the improvement,” she says, proud of herself. The gleam in her eye makes me smile.
