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No one is going to believe the sight I saw at the pool today. I just know it. This account is entirely true, no embellishment whatsoever. Completely factual. I’ve actually left out some of the more offensive details. And you can thank me later for not taking any pictures.
It’s a very hot day. Really hot. Maybe 95 degrees. The last day to tan before heading back to chilly TBagBay. And thanks to a slight belly burn yesterday, I’m fully covered. Which in hindsight, is completely irrelevant.
There is one couple there and an older woman. I pick a lounger two down from the older woman. She is packing up to leave. She’s about 70. And has implants. Really round implants. And is wearing a tankini with a key hole over the boobs. The key hole is not holding things in place. The bathing suit is for a 30 year old, at best. Yes, the implants are new, but the skin is not. I am aware that I am staring. With my recent decline to the sad Cs, implants have been on my mind. And if you want to see implants, at all ages, Palm Springs is so the place to be! They are everywhere. As are these ones. Fortunately she made it to her golf cart without any major malfunctions, which was very surprising. She also had the big fake nails, perfect complement.
Floating in the pool is a 50ish woman, also with implants. And a leopard bikini. Big bottom bikini. And she’s got the top of the suit folded down about as much as humanly possible. Which means the bottoms look even bigger! I think I can see an areola. I’m pretty sure. That’s her job for the day, adjusting the leopard suit. She is very dark brown (not the areola, the rest of her). I’m guessing she does this for long periods of time. She is frequently looking at her chest and readjusting. Her husband is wearing a full floral trunk. Classic Palm Springs couple.
So it is a very peaceful day at the pool. No one is talking. Perfect. I am covered in sunscreen since I’m still a bit red from yesterday, but since it is the last day for the wedding tan, I’m pushing my luck. Another guy comes and takes a seat about 5 chairs away from me. He’s wearing a speedo. Not something I’ve ever seen at a pool here. He’s younger, maybe 30. Hairless, heavy on the tattoos. He is driving an El Camino or reasonable facsimile.
It’s really hot so I take my book and sit on a step in the pool to read. Shortly after he also comes and sits on the step. I’m a polite smile, at best. Not interested in talking. It’s my last day and I just want to relax. The step is the perfect spot to read. After I cool down I go back to my chair. So does Speedo. The other couple is still floating in the pool, they bring their own blow-ups and are at the other end of the pool.
About half an hour later I’m all hot again, so back to the step. Swim around a bit. Back to reading on the step. Speedo also comes back into the pool. At this point I realize this is not an ordinary speedo, but a thong speedo. Grey and black striped thong speedo. It doesn’t seem to have the elasticity that a speedo usually does. The right ball is not contained. Not contained at all. And as you are aware, the ball is not the most attractive part of the male anatomy. Not even close to attractive, if we are being honest here.
He sits on the stair. Now I am staring at my book, refusing to make any kind of eye contact. I’m starting to wonder if this is a speedo or perhaps underwear? Why are ‘things’ coming out of the speedo? It seems too stretchy.
Speedo gets up and gets a drink from the fountain which is right beside me, and when he comes back, now remember I am sitting on a step in the pool, and he is coming back into the pool. It is a crotch-to-eye-level sort of situation. And now the loose ball is so not an issue, compared to what is happening with the front of the suit. It’s a full erection. In a thong speedo. Well, mostly ‘in’ the thong speedo. At crotch-to-eye-level. Two feet away. Stranger-crotch-erection directly to my eye-level! Full sun crotch-to-eye-level.
I would now like to tell you that I handled the situation like any mature adult would. And I think I will stick with that. I continued to read my book and then eventually returned to my chair, like the mature adult that I am. I did not bolt out of the pool. I did not get a case of the giggles. I am a mature adult who is reading her book. I am not staring and I am not feeling a little bit grossed out. I certainly am not texting my girlfriends. I am being a mature adult, reading her book. Then I realized I had enough sun and walked home. The End.
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