[Almost all of this story is factual. My motives weren't really so clear at the time, and some of
the dialogue has been made more coherent for the reader's convenience, but all of this really
happened. If you were in Phoenix that weekend, you undoubtedly remember the jacuzzi. If you
recall the red-bearded bloke in the back corner, the one with the lazy ex-swimmer's physique,
that was me. And if you know Philly (assuming she still uses that nickname) show her this story
and see if she remembers her "Uncle Sam"....]


                             PHILLY
                      by Michael K. Smith


     I met Philly in the jacuzzi on the Fifth Floor pool deck of the Phoenix Hyatt over Labor
Day weekend, 1978.  It was the weekend of the World Science Fiction Convention, known this
time as "Iguanacon," and it was definitely one of the lustier WorldCons I've attended.
     Since the fans had taken over the entire hotel -- no "civilians" on the premises to be leery
of -- the hall parties went on all night and very few people felt the need for swim suits on the
pool deck.
     The overwhelming majority of fans are very tolerant of eccentric public attire (or lack of
it) at large cons.  Young school teachers, who have to be careful not to mow their lawns in
short-shorts back home, will sally forth in see-through harem pants at a con, or even a couple of
strings of strategically placed sea shells.  It's part of the "Con Code" that one does not take
photos of sexy hall costumes without permission, but the young ladies involved seldom refuse. 
It's all part of the fun.  Fans are usually very relaxed and trusting when surrounded by several
thousand of their own kind... and that's one of the best reasons for attending a con in the first
place.
     The temperature was way up in Phoenix that weekend, and the humidity was way down,
with the result that several people fainted on the short walk between the air-conditioned hotel and
the air-conditioned convention center.  The dry, moisture-sucking heat continued past sundown
and the pool deck filled up rapidly.  Fans without swim suits lost their shirts first and sat on the
edge of the pool with their feet in the water, but as the sun went down the relatively cool desert
breeze came up.  Then the jacuzzi began to boil and there was no looking back.
     I heard comments in the hotel corridors: "Wow!  You ought to go down to the pool! 
Acres of skin!"  I could think of no reason to avoid the pool, so I went, too.  It was a large open
space with two pools, a regular one with two diving boards and a smaller, shallower one for kids. 
And that high-tech jacuzzi, approximately circular and at least fifteen feet in diameter.  The
bubbling of the jets was loud and inviting, and so was the mist of steam drifting across the
surface of the water.
     I was pleasantly surprised to note a dozen or more bodies in the jacuzzi, all of them
naked.  Three or four additional con-goers were paddling around in the larger, cooler pool, also
naked, and numerous other fans (or "fen") were in various stages of undress, either coming or
going. No glamour, just bodies, all shapes and sizes, ranging in age from late teens to mid-60s...
but all of them relaxed and unembarrassed.  My kind of place.  I don't embarrass easily, and
certainly not about nudity.  I stripped, hid my room key-card and my wallet in one deck shoe,
stashed my glasses in the other shoe, and wrapped my jeans around them.  Since I was there by
myself, I tucked the rolled-up clothing on a ledge at eye-level in the stone wall backing the
jacuzzi, where I could keep an eye on it. Then I stepped carefully into the roiling water, letting
myself adjust a little at a time.  Several other newcomers were doing the same.
     I had just turned twenty-nine a month before and was increasingly conscious of the Big
Three-Oh looming ahead of me -- especially since my physical fitness had gone to hell in recent
years.  Teaching junior college while researching a doctoral thesis didn't leave much room in my
schedule for methodical exercise, and I was a long way from the shape I had been in as a
swimmer and track letterman in high school.  So I was a bit self-conscious about my lack of
condition, but a glance to either side took care of that.
     On my left was a woman in her early 20s, about 5'2" and at least 175 pounds.  She smiled
back cheerfully and moved down another step.  Her rolls of flesh shimmied and her almost-huge
breasts bounced slowly.  So did her thighs.  On the other side of me was a man in his 60s who
seemed quite at home with his protruding pot belly.  His full beard merged with the thick mat on
his chest and his equally thick leg hair almost concealed his groin.  He had more hair on his ass, I
think, than I had on my chest. Both my companions were reassuring, though, in their acceptance
of their personal appearances.  Just ordinary people, all three of us.  But, of course, we weren't
the only folks in the pool.
     As I settled down with the steam drifting around my jaw, I watched a well-tanned kid of
about nineteen hurry laughing down the steps and splash into the middle where the water was
about waist deep.  His penis was semi-erect and the reason for his condition flung herself into the
jacuzzi right behind him: A vivacious girl who appeared about sixteen but whom I decided *had*
to be older.  Her body was also beach-brown, with no bikini marks, and she was very obviously a
natural blonde.  Her pale, shoulder-length hair, now plastered wetly to her neck, was a close
match for her fine, sparse pubic hair.  Her cleft, probably shaved, glistened moistly for a
fascinating moment when she leapt in after her boyfriend and hooked a sleek, nicely muscled
arm over his shoulder.
     Their happy splashing, which included a lot of seemingly random touching, caused a
series of small wave fronts to break against the couples lined up along the back wall of the hot
pool.  They must be sitting on a bench, I thought; all their heads were at about the same level and
the water lapped at their collarbones.
     A couple of the back-row relaxers took exception to the wave-making, probably because
their mouths were suddenly awash, and I heard several say, not unkindly, "Hey, man,... take it
easy, huh...?"
     The two teenagers heard the complaint and grinned sheepishly as they waded to a far
corner and hunkered down.  The water came up to their chins, but from their expressions it was
obvious their submerged hands were busy.  The other bathers ignored them completely, except
perhaps for a knowing and sympathetic smile.  A small crowd of naked, mostly young people in
a hot, steaming pool together?  Of *course* sex was an ingredient, and everyone on the pool
deck knew it and accepted it.  But that didn't mean the mix would degenerate into a public orgy. 
Mouths murmured into ears and light kisses were exchanged.  Some single guys chatted together
and so did several single girls and women.  The atmosphere was nearly lacking in social or
psychological pressure, even when it came to sex.
     Every few minutes, someone would rise and climb the steps out of the jacuzzi; a few
seconds later, they could be heard diving or jumping into the main pool -- followed by a loud
"Whooo!"  After ten minutes or so of parboiling myself, I felt the same need to re-balance my
body temperature, and I stood up.  The air temperature was still in the 80s, but after the hot pool
the breeze felt distinctly chilly.
     I climbed quickly up the steps and moved over to the large pool. Dipping a hand in, I
found the water tepid from standing all day under the Phoenix sun, but I suspected my body's
reaction to it might be more extreme.  Two people jumped in and joined the others already
splashing around, while I stood there on the edge and thought about it.  I had taken Third Place in
High School Varsity All-State Freestyle in 1966, right? Right.
     I waited for an open spot in front of me and attempted my first racing dive in several
years.  In that first split-second below the surface, I metamorphosed from human to penguin --
*damn,* it was cold!  I popped to the surface like everyone else, whooshing from the shock.  My
teeth chattered and goose bumps erupted simultaneously all over my body.  But after a few
minutes, my shivering tapered off as my internal thermostat adjusted itself.  I stroked a couple
lengths of the pool (just to prove to myself that I still could) and then simply treaded water for
awhile.  The water temperature seemed more normal now, which meant I was probably ready for
another cycle in the jacuzzi.
     I paused -- together with every other male in the pool and most of the women -- as a tall,
graceful, broad-shouldered young woman did a half-gainer off the low board.  She had a
swimmer's musculature and short, straight black hair.  Her pubic hair was trimmed neatly in a
small rectangle just above her pussy, which was quite bare; like gymnasts, most competitive
swimmers shave themselves regularly.
     She entered the water slick as a seal and when she popped to the surface (no "Whoooo!,"
I noticed) she received a scattering of appreciative applause, both for her skill and style and for
the lovely image she had presented up there on the board.  An athletic young man immediately
breast-stroked over to her and struck up a quiet conversation. She didn't turn away and several
other guys nearby sighed and went back to their dog-paddling.  I wondered idly if there would be
a bed unslept-in tonight.  That thought gave me the beginnings of an erection and I had to wait
another few minutes to compose myself before leaving the pool; I noticed none of the other guys
had left immediately, either.  As it turned out, the timing of my return to the hot pool was perfect.


     I hauled myself up the pool ladder and noticed that the breeze didn't seem as chilly as it
had been.  My first step back into the jacuzzi was comfortably scalding.  I was watching where I
put my feet so I wouldn't slip on the steps... so I wasn't immediately aware of the scene unfolding
just in front of me.  Four feet away, standing hip-deep in the center of the hot pool, was a teenage
boy facing away from me.  Facing him -- and me -- was a slender, young-looking girl with a
bewildered expression.  She was an inch or so taller than the boy, with that lovely shade of light
reddish-blonde hair known as "strawberry"; it fell around her shoulders in a bright cloud under
the subdued pool deck lighting.  The boy's hands were moving busily but he had an avid
audience of three other guys about his own age and I couldn't quite see what he was up to.  So I
took a couple of steps to one side -- and stared.  His hands covered her small breasts, rubbing and
squeezing in jerky circles.  His cock was twitching upward, the tip just brushing her sparse pubic
hair.  And she just stood there flatfooted, her arms hanging at her sides.  Was she retarded?  In
shock? Hypnotized?  She plainly had no idea at all what she should do.
     As I watched, one of the onlookers reached out and tentatively touched her hip.  I glanced
at the back-benchers.  Several couples were furtively watching the little drama unfold and were
whispering urgently to each other.  The kid with the busy hands looked at the hip-toucher -- they
didn't seem to be acquainted -- and muttered something assertive.  The second kid ignored him
and put the palm of his hand flat on the girl's hipbone.  An anti-poaching warning, ignored.  It
was obvious that these two were not working their game together.  Then I realized that the boy
was wet all over, hair plastered to his head, while the girl was still dry from the crotch up -- a
very recent arrival, presumably while I was still in the main pool.
     The girl's eyes flicked about and I thought I saw (or decided to see) desperation in them. 
Her gaze finally locked on mine; perhaps I was the only person looking directly at her face. 
Neither her posture nor her expression changed, except that her rather full lips parted slightly. 
For whatever reason, I interpreted that small movement as a plea for rescue. I had to get
involved.
     It's difficult to appear convincingly aggressive when you're naked and wet but I gave it
my best shot.  I sucked in what gut I had and waded up to the principal groper -- on the shallow
side, to make me appear taller. I already had three inches and thirty pounds on the kid and, like
most ex-competitive swimmers, I'm built broad in the shoulders.  I raised my chin so I could look
down my nose at him and hummed a soft tone deep in my throat to be sure I could deliberately
lower the register of my voice.
     I stepped into the fringe of the guy's vision and he glanced at me, saw my face, and froze. 
I have long been a student and conscious practitioner of body language and I was wearing my
best Intimidation Stare: Hard, cold, unblinking eye contact and tight-lipped, with my jaw
muscles visibly clenching and loosening.
     I kept the volume of my voice down but it was clearly heard by everyone within ten feet:
"You will take your hands off my niece instantly or I shall break your fingers."  No obvious
anger in my monotone, which was what convinced the teenager of my intent.  I clenched a fist at
my side, which made my bicep move.  I reached out with my other hand, brushing the hip-groper
back without touching him, and took the staring girl gently by the upper arm.  "Sarah?  Why are
you letting them abuse you?"  It was simply the first name that came to me.  "Let's move over out
of the traffic, shall we?"  I stepped between the two young men and they backed quickly out of
my way; I had moved as though I assumed they would make way for me, so they did.  I squeezed
the girl's arm slightly and she blinked. The corners of her mouth tried to smile but were
unsuccessful.  Her face had acquired a guilty look and that completed the picture for the
onlookers.  I moved my guiding hand down to her elbow and nudged her away toward the end of
the hot pool's back bench, and she let me.  I couldn't tell whether she was glad to be rescued,
frightened by my taking control of her, or still simply bewildered.
     As we moved away, I was aware of relieved looks from others in the pool.  They had all
wanted something to be done but hadn't wanted to get themselves involved.  But now what was
*I* going to do with her?
     I turned my head slightly as we waded deeper and whispered very softly. "I couldn't just
stand there and watch that.  Are you okay?"
     She nodded fractionally and took a deep breath.  "Yeah.  I didn't know what to do -- they
scared me.  I've never been... like this... with other people around.  I didn't know what they
expected from me...."
     "Nobody has the right to expect *anything* from you, uh... what do I call you?"
     "Philly."  She glanced at me and quickly looked down.  Even in the dim pool lights, her
eyes glowed an intense and hypnotic green.
     "'Filly'?"  I smiled.  She *was* sort of coltish....
     "Short for 'Phyllis'."
     Ah.  "My name's 'Sam'," I lied.  I was portraying her "uncle," after all.  I still liked the
way I had first heard it.  "Filly."
     A couple had just left the end of the underwater bench, where the wall angled to form a
cozy almost-corner.  I eased myself down onto the bench; the water lapped comfortably at the
base of my throat.  Philly hesitated. I put on my most benign smile.  I had already let go of her
elbow and she could simply turn and go if she wanted to.  If so, well, I had done my good deed
for the day.  But her decision to stay was transparent on her face.  She had decided I was "safe."
     I wasn't sure I could agree with her.  On the short wade across the jacuzzi I had become
very aware of her smooth, fair skin, now flushed from the heat of the pool.  Of the slight sway of
her narrow hips as she pushed through the water.  Of the coordinated bounce of her hair and her
small breasts.  Most of all, I was captivated by her face.  Those brilliant green eyes, framed by
thick blonde lashes and topped by reddish eyebrows. The narrow nose and the surprisingly full,
very red lips.  The firm profile of her chin, above a long, beautiful neck.
     At first, from a distance, she had seemed about fifteen years old.  I had upped that
estimate to a young seventeen -- which was still jailbait. But I couldn't help it; for the past several
minutes, my cock had been coming increasingly to attention and now it stuck out like a bowsprit. 
If I had swung around to face her, I would have poked her in the abdomen. This was definitely a
problem because I did *not* want to be guilty of assault myself... and I wasn't sure seduction was
a fair game under the circumstances.
     I was pleased and relieved when the girl decided to stay awhile.  I was lusting in my
heart, as they say, but I wasn't sure yet what I was going to do about it, if anything.  My first
decision arrived a moment later, when Philly tried to sit on the bench beside me.  She wasn't
quite tall enough and the steaming water threatened to flood her mouth.  She sputtered and
waved her hands through the water, trying to hover a couple of inches above the bench; it
apparently didn't occur to her to tuck her legs under her.  "I have a lap that's not being used," I
said softly.
     After a moment's hesitation, she smiled slightly and said "Okay," just as softly.  She
pushed herself upward as I moved sideways and she settled across my thighs with her back
tucked into the angle of the wall.  As I shifted position, I also quickly pushed my cock down
between my legs; that would have been too rude a surprise and I certainly didn't want to frighten
her away now.  She leaned back against the wall and seemed to relax; I hadn't realized how tense
she was until that moment.  I set one hand very lightly on her knee, to keep her from being
dislodged by the bubbling of the nearby jet in the wall, and leaned back myself.  No crowding.
     I let my eyes drift nearly shut and simply enjoyed the pleasurable sensation of a teenage
girl's bare bottom perched on my lap.  I imagined I could feel the tickle of the hair between her
legs against my thigh, but it was more likely to be my own thick bush against the back of *her*
leg. The currents swirled around my calf and I realized she was slowly kicking her feet back and
forth, like a child on a swing.  I liked that, too.  I opened my eyes a minute or two later to find
Philly's wide green eyes quietly studying my face.  The water lapped at her chest just about
where a strapless gown would come to.  With only her head and shoulders showing, she
somehow seemed older still.  Nineteen, perhaps?
     I raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled enough to show some small, brilliantly white
teeth.  Her arm rose from the water and draped itself casually across my shoulder, and her long,
slender fingers stroked the back of my neck.  "You're nice," she said.  "When I came down here
and saw everyone so easy and relaxed and everything, I thought maybe I could join in and still be
safe.  I've never been anyplace like this -- not even a nude beach.  And then that guy came up and
said something to me and... and started doing things.  And I didn't know what to do."  She
paused.  "I said all that, though, didn't I?"
     "Some of it," I admitted.  "But don't worry about it.  You have a lovely voice; it goes with
your eyes and your hair."  I couldn't tell if she blushed or not.
     "Well, I feel a lot better with you, Sam."  This time her smile was warm and I felt my
imprisoned cock begin to stir again.
     That meant I *had* to know.  "Philly,... please don't take this the wrong way,... but would
you mind very much if I asked how old you are?"
     She looked down.  "Well,... you're older than I am.  I mean, does it matter?"
     "Maybe not.  Maybe it shouldn't.  But I don't want to get you in trouble.  Or me, to be
honest," I added.  "Look, I'm not insisting, Philly.  But I'm curious.  You keep shifting age on
me.  Right now, I'm guessing nineteen or twenty...."
     She seemed pleased but then she sighed.  "How about sixteen?  Barely."
     Sixteen?  Only sixteen, "barely"?  Shit.  Did I really want to pursue this?  Did I dare? 
Philly removed her hand from the back of my neck and started to get up from my lap.
     "I'm sorry, Sam.  I'll go someplace else.  I didn't mean to mislead you, honest...."  She
looked sad and if she was acting, she was good.  But I knew instantly that I didn't want her to go. 
I was nearly twice her age and I didn't give a damn.
     "Hey, hey, hey, hey," I laughed.  I grabbed her around the waist and resettled her on my
lap.  Then I stroked the small of her back until I felt her spine uncoil.
     "Please, Philly -- you just surprised me, is all.  But I don't want you to go, I really don't. 
You're a very lovely girl and I'd be lying if I pretended I didn't appreciate that.  You're also just...
*nice*.  You feel nice and you smell nice.  I guess that sounds silly."
     And it was all true, but I knew I had won when she smiled glowingly, leaned forward on
my lap, and clasped her hands around my neck.  She kissed me lightly on the cheek and I
returned it by kissing her on the ear.  I was careful not to push things beyond wherever they were
destined to go.  I'd be perfectly happy just sitting there with her on my lap, friendly and
comfortable.
     Then our attention was drawn by a couple hunkered down in the water a few feet away. 
Probably what caught my ear was the sound the girl made -- a low-throated giggle ending in a
soft, humming moan.  It was a sound that made my testicles tingle, a sensual sound.  Philly's
hands twitched when she heard that low moan and then she was staring at the other couple, who
seemed about college age.
     They had apparently been squatting, facing each other, the water up around their necks. 
But now the girl was higher in the water, her shining wet breasts fully exposed, and it was
obvious that her crotch and the boy's were trying to occupy the same space.
     She was a blonde, white-toothed surfer-girl-type with large, bouncing breasts, and her
bent knees poked out of the water on either side of his hips.  The boy's blond hair was longer
than the girl's and he was nuzzling in the valley between those tits.
     The girl reached far down between their bodies to make adjustments and the boy blinked
and grunted a little.  Then they began to rock slowly back and forth, eyes half-closed.
     My cock stiffened and I knew that other people in our part of the jacuzzi were also
discreetly aware of the sexual act taking place before us.  I glanced at Philly's face.  She was
transfixed and unthinkingly squeezed her thighs together.
     "Nice, isn't it?"  Her attention bounced back to me when I spoke, and she blushed -- but
only a little.
     "It's nice that they can be open and honest about their need, their desire for each other," I
explained.  Philly licked her lips and moved one hand from my neck to *my* hand, still resting
on her knee.  She looked down at where our hands were, just under the water.
     "What that guy was doing when you... rescued me?  He was rough, and he didn't ask, and
I didn't like it.  But I think I'd like it if *you* did it, Sam...."  She arched her back so her hard
little nipples were at the water line and lifted my hand to one of them.  It was as open an
invitation as anyone could ask for.  My other hand was still around her waist and I urged her face
toward mine.  The kiss was exhilarating -- tentative but trusting and giving on her part, firm and
knowledgeable on mine.
     Philly sighed as I slowly worked her nipple between my fingers and cupped her breast in
my hand.  She edged closer and laid her head on my shoulder, like a child, her other nipple
pressing into my ribs.  My hand in the small of her back shifted to stroke her smooth, slender
flank.
     I realized that this girl, who was little more than half my age, was trembling.  I tried to
look down at her face but I could see only her shimmering, curling hair and her narrow, lightly
tanned shoulder.  She ducked her head further.  "Philly?  What's the matter, babe?  You're
shaking...."
     Her voice was small.  "I've just never done this."
     "Sixteen years old and you've never made out?  So beautiful, and no guy has ever wanted
to touch you?  I find that hard to believe."
     She made a "huh" sound that wasn't quite a laugh.  "Sure, I've made out a few times.  In
some older guy's car, usually.  I've let two guys touch my... my tits -- but no farther.  But I've
*never* been naked in a hot tub, with a lot of other naked people I don't know, sitting on a guy's
lap and making out -- while a couple of people are fucking just right over there!  It makes me
nervous, okay?  I feel like I don't know what's happening...."  I took my hand from her breast and
moved it up and down her outstretched thigh with long, slow strokes.  "If you'd rather I quit,
Philly, I will.  I know you said you wanted me to, and it's *very* nice, but I don't want to scare
you, either."
     "No."  She sat up and took a deep breath, letting it out evenly.  The shakes died away. 
"I'm sixteen and I'm old enough to learn *something* about sex.  I don't know you at all, Sam,
not really -- but I have this feeling that you were probably 'making out' before I was even born." 
Got me there, I thought.
     "The guys I date are all so *young*.  I mean, they're nice and they're my age, but they
don't know any more than I do, really.  Like, 'the blind leading the blind', you know?  You were
real nice to me earlier and you're being nice to me now.  Maybe I *need* an older man, to teach
me things.  A man who's nice and won't take advantage of me, who -- who won't hurt me." She
hooked her arms around my neck again and nuzzled my ear.  The little thrill-chills went all the
way to the base of my spine as she whispered. "There's so much I need to know, isn't there, Sam? 
So I won't be afraid of sex.  So I *can* enjoy it, like everyone says you should.  And I know you
know what it is I need to learn.  Don't you?  Can you teach me, Sam? Some of it, anyway?"  Her
nose was tickling the inside of my ear and my cock, still trapped between my legs, was becoming
desperate.  "I trust you, Sam," she breathed.
     How could I humanly resist someone so young and vibrant?  So cute/beautiful?  Easy: I
couldn't.  I wasn't *that* old.
     "Look -- over there!"  I refocused.  Off in the other back corner of the jacuzzi a couple in
their late 20s -- about my age, actually -- were standing in a comparatively shallow area where
the water came only to the tops of their thighs.  They were long-time lovers, that much was
obvious by the way their bodies fit.  They were pressed together, arms wrapped around each
other, hands roaming hungrily.  They kissed in a passionate glow, perhaps turned on by the
circumstances of their surroundings.
     "Watch *them*, Philly," I whispered.  "They're really beautiful -- sex combined with
love.  I can't teach you about that; no one can.  No one has to, really."
     I turned her chin with a finger, to direct her gaze at yet another couple who were sitting
on the lower steps that entered the pool.  The guy was maybe twenty-five but the woman he was
stroking so adoringly was probably ten years his senior.  Very nice looking, though, and in very
good condition.  They sat side by side, dueling with their tongues.  His hand was busy between
her legs, fingering her clit, and she was slowly jerking him off -- all in plain sight.  The jacuzzi
was definitely loosening up.
     Another robust surfer chick was lounging in the deeper water surrounded by the
attentions of three young men who were caressing her body and taking turns with her kisses,
almost in an act of worship.  It looked like she was stroking at least two cocks in the process. 
Philly took all this in with an increasing air of acceptance.
     By twisting around to embrace me, Philly only managed to stay on my lap courtesy of
buoyancy and because I was hanging onto her legs.  After observing the rising hormone level in
the hot pool, she abruptly rose and resettled herself astride my lap, knees on the bench on either
side of my legs.  My cock was also released and stood up rigidly between us, unmindful of the
temperature of the water.
     Philly gazed down at it in fascination, just below the surface, and giggled.  After a
moment's hesitation, she reached down and grasped it gingerly, like a gearshift.  I made it twitch
and her lovely wide eyes snapped back to my face.
     I laughed gently and squeezed her firm little ass.  At the same time, I scooted her body
closer to mine, until the base of my cock nestled snugly in the fork of her cunt.  It appeared to
rise from the midst of the thin patch of reddish-blonde curls.
     Philly was breathing harder.  She didn't attempt to jack me off but both hands were now
toying with my cock.  I slowly massaged both her nipples, and from her glazed expression I was
sure she was enjoying the blending of sensations.  Her inhibitions and nervousness had nearly
vanished.  I found great pleasure, oddly, in not immediately laying siege to her virgin cunt, but
simply in moving the palms of my hands up and down her slightly bony sides, from her armpits
down her ribcage, to her small, snug waist, out over her flaring but still narrow hips, and down
her long, lean thighs to the soft folds at the backs of her knees.  Philly was so exciting to touch.
     And, judging by the way she shivered each time my hands made the trip, she enjoyed
being touched.  I suppose it was also an act of worship, a tribute to her youthful sexuality.
     Philly began to reciprocate, tracing the tips of her carefully maintained nails from the
back of my neck, across my shoulders, and down my back as far as she could reach.  My skin
popped up in goose bumps and I shivered, too.  She grinned and giggled again in delight.
     Finally, after sitting like that for some minutes, crotch grinding against crotch, petting
each other, I reached the point where I felt I would go crazy if I didn't kiss this lovely young
thing.  I took her face between my palms and brought her lips closer to mine.  She knew what
was about to happen and gripped my waist with her hands.  I took my time.  I was sure she had
never been properly kissed by a guy who knew what he was doing and I intended to remedy that
sad omission.
     Philly made as if to go straight into a clinch but I held her off with a smile.  I softly
brushed her full, red lips with mine and I heard her heart rate increase.  Then the tip of my tongue
traced the same path and she moaned softly.  Her hands had left my waist and began moving
frantically over my back.  I could feel the delightful pressure of her nipples against my chest. 
And in the midst of this, she suddenly raised her knees off the underwater bench and wrapped her
long, slender legs around my lower back.  She also shoved her open pussy against the base of my
rigid cock, which was now even more tightly trapped between us.
     It was a struggle to control my urges, but I managed it because I wanted Philly's first
passionate kiss to be as perfect and as memorable an experience as I could make it.  I continued
by sucking and nibbling lightly on her lower lip.  Philly had a mouth reminiscent of Carly Simon
(but with better teeth), full and red and mobile.  She began copying me, sucking on my lip in
return, and it was a very successful strategy because my own pulse rate was increasing.
     I pressed my mouth firmly against hers and she responded in kind, holding me more
tightly as she did so.  I swabbed my tongue across her front teeth and beneath her upper lip; she
tilted her head back and I felt her nails flexing on my shoulders.  She darted her tongue into my
mouth, trying to surprise me, but I applied suction and bore down, holding her face in my hands,
as if I wanted to suck the youth out of her.
     When I tapered off after a minute or so and drew back, her whole body was shaking again
and her eyes had a wild, dazed look.  I thought at first I had frightened her, but she took a deep
breath and grasped my shoulders with both hands.  Her ankles were locked behind my back and
to any observer I'm sure it appeared that I was fucking her brains out.
     She had to take several gulps of air before she could speak.  "God -- is it *always* like
this?  No wonder girls are always getting pregnant!" Philly's incandescent reaction to being
kissed was reflected back at me and I felt the needle rise on my lust meter.
     "Every time *should* be like this," I replied with a smile. "Especially when you're young
and everything is still new.  It's easy to become bored as you get older, especially if you're not
with the right person -- right for you, I mean.  And the 'right person' can change with the
circumstances.  You implied a little while ago that I might be your 'right person', here and now. 
Maybe I am; I can certainly try to be.  I know you're doing wonderful things to *me*, Philly! 
Kissing you is like putting my tongue in a light socket!"  I squeezed her elbows gently and eased
her arms around me again.  I liked the feeling of her fresh, enthusiastic body against mine.
     She nibbled at my ears, giving me renewed chills, and whispered "Sam? Are we going to
do it?  Are we going to make love?"
     My cock twitched in response and she couldn't help but feel it move against her abdomen. 
She put her chin on my shoulder again and arched her spine backward so she could slip both
hands down between our bodies.  Her touch was hesitant but she was becoming more sure of
herself -- possibly because I moaned quietly when her soft, young hand grasped the shaft of my
cock just below the head.  She moved her pelvis back and up a few inches and pushed my organ
down so that the tip of it pressed against the opening to her secret self.  I could have thrust into
her easily but I knew I wouldn't, even though I wanted to do exactly that *very* badly.  I felt she
should take each step, make each decision for herself.  I assumed she had no hymen and therefore
no blood to worry about in the pool; few girls did since the invention of tampons.
     I realized both of us were holding our breaths and I wondered for a moment if this
impasse would continue until she or I passed out from lack of oxygen.  Philly was staring down
at the surface of the water, just below which our bodies were poised for fusion.  I was watching
her face. Then she lifted her gaze and looked steadily into my eyes with a little smile as she let
out her breath, took another, and lowered herself smoothly onto my penis.  I was vaguely aware
of a few other inhabitants of the jacuzzi watching us with interest, as we had watched them, but
mostly I was oblivious to anything other than the deliciously snug fit Philly and I made.  I held
her hips and pushed myself into her as far as I could.
     She unhooked her ankles and spread her knees far apart, then leaned back and let the
water and my hands buoy her up; her groin was only two or three inches below the surface and
her shallow breasts were like two floating islands.  Her hair, wet for the first time since she
entered the pool, clung to her neck and made her seem even younger.  Her pubic patch was so
light in color and still so sparse, her pussy appeared bare -- almost pre-adolescent.  I found that
especially exciting; I knew quite well my own tastes in women.  I scooped up this enticing
creature in the palms of my hands and pressed her body against mine again.  I had to struggle to
control my passion and remain gentle with her.  I held her ass and squeezed her cheeks.  She
responded by grinding her crotch even harder against mine and whimpering in her throat.  I
would have thought it impossible for a guy to become so aroused under water, especially in a
jacuzzi, but I was already climbing toward orgasm and I hadn't even begun moving within her.  I
didn't want to embarrass myself by coming before a barely-sixteen-year-old beauty was ready for
*her* first real climax!
     "Philly, slow down!  You're making me crazy, but we want this to last. My God, you're
beautiful!"  And she really was.  She might be an ordinary-pretty girl in the hall at school, but
right here, right now, she was Aphrodite, a goddess of physical love, a supple young body
lacking in experience but anxious to learn.  She was filling up with the honest lust of young
innocence and her radiant energy produced responses in my body that I hadn't experienced since
my own teen years.  Philly was unintentionally working wonders on me.
     We began fucking in earnest at the same moment, pushing in and partly withdrawing in
unison.  We started slow and gradually increased the tempo, trying not to be too obvious to our
neighbors in the pool.  But there could be no doubt in anyone's mind what was happening in our
corner of the bench.  Our arms were wrapped around each other's bodies, our lips moved
feverishly, and our bellies produced a rhythmic slapping sound as they came together again and
again.  Finally, Philly simply hung onto my neck, face buried in my shoulder, making small
mewing and moaning noises.  I knew she was on the brink when she dug her fingers into the
back of my neck and breathlessly whispered "Oh, God...!"
     And that was enough to put us both over.  I tried to control myself but I couldn't help
jerking a few times as I shot my load far up into her body.  I felt an instant of guilt for not pulling
out -- what if she became pregnant? -- but I couldn't have stopped at that point even if someone
had stuck a pistol in my face.
     For the first and only time in my life, I actually felt an orgasm rippling up and down the
walls of a vagina.  Philly held her breath and clutched at me tightly and rigidly for perhaps thirty
seconds.  Then she went boneless and sighed deeply.  Her cunt was so snug, my cock didn't have
room to shrink.  I also wondered if there would be a second round and I wanted to hold my
position a little while longer.
     I lifted Philly's chin and kissed her very gently as she twisted her fingers in the hair at the
back of my head.  "That was completely fantastic!" she sighed softly.  "I'm so glad it was you,
Sam, and not one of those grabby boys."  She leaned back so she could look deep into my eyes. 
"I'll never forget this evening, Sam, not ever!"
     "No one *ever* forgets their first time, Philly -- but this was special for me, too.  You're
really a sweetheart, do you know that?"  I kissed her a few more times, lightly.  "Whatever boy
you finally fall in love with is going to be very, very lucky...."
     She smiled in a way that suggested she had just discovered a new world. Then she
clenched her vaginal muscles and my cock twitched.  "Sam, you know, I'm here with two
girlfriends,... and I don't *have* to stay in the room with them tonight.  I could spend the night
with *you*...."  She raised her eyebrows questioningly.
     I had a couple of roommates sharing expenses, too, but these things could be arranged
(and had been, numerous times before).  This marvelous young thing was offering herself to me
for the night.  My imagination raced ahead.  I saw myself burying my face in her damp cunt.  I
saw my cock disappearing into her mouth and down her throat.  I saw myself nailing her to the
wall in the shower, as she hung on and ricocheted through successive orgasms.  God, the things I
could teach her!
     Then, against my will, I also saw a fearful expression on her pretty face as she tried to
accommodate the variety of sexual encounters I envisioned.  I heard her voice sobbing in my
head: "Sam, I'm only barely sixteen and I was a virgin until a few hours ago!  I'm not *ready* for
all this!"  My conscience was going to spoil my night of lust gloriously fulfilled, I could tell.
     I took a deep breath and spoke softly into her ear as I stroked her back.  "Philly,...
sweetheart, that might not be a good idea.  I would *love* to spend the whole night with you --
hell, I'd like to spend a *week* in bed with you!  But you're sixteen and you've just los--, just
given me your virginity.  Your emotions and your hormones are in control right now and I can't
allow myself to take advantage of you like that." Philly wasn't moving a muscle.  She just sat in
my lap, her tight little pussy still filled with my cock, and gazed into my eyes without blinking.
     "Philly, there's so *much* I'd like to teach you about sex, it scares me a little.  But I'd be
rushing you much faster than you ought to go."  She blinked several times and bit her lower lip --
and I did *not* want her to feel in any way rejected.
     "Sweetheart, I know *exactly* what I'm passing up.  A whole night with you could be
fantastic for both of us... but I don't think you'd feel the same way a few days or a month from
now.  I really don't.  I'd feel I had... well, raped you of your youth and inexperience.  And I'm
afraid you'd start to feel the same way."
     Her gaze had faltered and I lifted her chin again with a fingertip.  "I will *not* do
anything that could hurt you, Philly.  Or anything that might make *you* feel you had been hurt. 
We met right here and I think it's better that we part right here.  You've learned the best and most
important thing about sex.  I don't think it would be fair to you to teach you anything more just
yet."
     I felt a pang; her expression had become sad.  But she nodded slowly and gave me the
gift of a small, sweet smile.  She understood that I wasn't trying to get rid of her, that was the
most important thing -- that I really was giving up what my body was clamoring for, in favor of
what I thought was best for her.
     She put her hands on my shoulders and squeezed as she slowly lifted her body off mine. 
We stood in the waist-deep water and she melted into my arms in a close, affectionate embrace. 
Then she lifted her face and kissed me so thoroughly I felt my toes curl.
     "My first lover,..." she whispered.  "My very first, and I'm so glad it was you, Sam." 
There were small tears at the corners of her eyes.  Or maybe it was just the steam.
     What I said just before we parted was probably stupid and certainly ridiculous, but I had
to say it anyway: "Philly, I do love you."  Her mouth trembled as she touched my cheek with her
hand.
     "I know you do."


     I walked her toward the steps of the jacuzzi, our arms about each other.  She hugged me
for the last time and kissed me very lightly on the lips, and then she was hurrying up the steps,
shivering in the breeze.  I suddenly realized, as I watched her long legs and firm little ass, that
our entire encounter had been at least partly under water.  I wasn't sure I had ever even seen her
feet.
     For a long moment, I looked at that vibrant young body moving among the other bodies
on the pool deck, heading for wherever she had stashed her clothing -- what would she have
worn? I wondered -- and I came within a heartbeat of rushing after her.  But common sense --
and self-preservation, probably -- closed in and I turned quickly away and moved back out of
Philly's view.  I didn't want her to turn around and find me staring after her.  I started back to the
end of the bench but then changed my mind and moved over to the far wall, near one of the hot
water jets.  I crouched down morosely in front of it for another thirty minutes before I was finally
able to haul myself out of the hot pool.  I toweled off with my tee-shirt, pulled on my pants and
shoes, and made my way back to my room.  It was just after 2:00 in the morning.  A four-hour
affair, more or less, and from first meeting to final parting we had both been naked.  A strange
encounter indeed.


     I kept an eye out for Philly for the remaining two days of WorldCon, though I never
actually expected to see her among the nearly 5,000 attendees.  And I never did see her again,
that weekend or later.  I never knew her last name, or even what state she lived in.  She'd be
thirty years old now, probably married, perhaps with children.  I hope she's happy; she deserves
to be.  And I hope she found her "right guy," because she deserves that, too.  Sometimes I see a
pretty teenager with strawberry blonde hair at the mall who reminds me of Philly and I'll think
about that short, steamy evening.  And I also hope she sometimes pauses and thinks of me.  Of
her first lover.


                               END


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
Copyright 1993 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and posted elsewhere for personal
enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
