Bubble

I want a jacuzzi. My skin is terrible at the moment because of the sunny, rainy, sunny, rainy weather, my back is playing up because I spent a lot of time hunched over my computer's keyboard, my brain is all stressed-out because of my mother, and the soles of my feet, which are coming to resemble bricks, could do with the warm, bubbly water of a jacuzzi. Plus, who doesn't like them? I mean, I'm irritated by tepid water and even I like them.

There's a picture on my external HD of TD in a jacuzzi at Center Parcs. One of the 28 pictures we managed to fit into a tiny digital camera "borrowed" from the dustbin of a primary school. Classy, I know. Although how we managed to take pictures in a municipal swimming area and get away with it is beyond me. There's even a picture of me going at high speed down the middle of the white slide with my arms held in the YMCA position. But I digress.

It's one of those fantasies that everyone has, sex in a jacuzzi. There's even a poorly-shot scene of jacuzzi sex in Mirror Images II to capitalise on this odd fetish. And no, before you ask, I haven't had sex in a jacuzzi. I had sex by the side of a swimming pool once (no, not a public one), but that's not the closest I got...

I definitely had a cheeky grope of TD while we were in the jacuzzi... sorry, "hot whirlpool"... at Center Parcs. It was Valentine's; we were very touchy-feely anyway and I distinctly remember her sitting on me in the jacuzzi. Not having sex, just sitting on me. I also remember having my hand on her thigh. And I remember the massive erection that I had at the time, obviously. But I can't remember feeling her up, as such. I remember feeling Rebecca up, though. Not at the same time, again obviously.

The place I stayed at with Rebecca was a poor man's Center Parcs. I didn't pay for it, either. 47's family own something like a cross between a caravan and a garden shed there, and although it's comfy enough, it doesn't have the homely feel or "OMGZ it's MY OWN HOUSE" feel of a Center Parcs villa. This place, which I won't say the name of because you'll know exactly where it is (and it's a stupid name anyway), has one bar, one café and the customary swimming pool. Except in this case, the swimming pool is hardly subtropical. It's big and square and probably not a lot of fun if you can't swim. While I dived in at the deep end and struck out for a few lengths, stopping only slightly short of mutating into a fish-person like Destriianatos from the Doctor Who comics, while she floundered about at the shallow end. Fun though this was, I think we needed something more. Fortunately, they had a jacuzzi.

I need to point out, however, that this jacuzzi wasn't exactly the height of luxury. Yes, it was hot, and it bubbled, but it was - get this - pay-as-you-go. That's right. You had to put a quid into a little slot, and as a reward you got three whole minutes of bubble time. After that the water became flat and cold.

It was after I put my third pound coin in that I was beginning to realise it was a rip-off. But Rebecca, by this point, had her hand down my swimming trunks, so I wasn't complaining too much. She wasn't exactly making me particularly horny, but it was enough for me to reciprocate. I removed her hand from my trunks and slipped my free hand down between her legs. The soft lycra of her swimming costume was easy enough to feel her through. The problem with Rebecca was, however, that you could never tell exactly how turned on you were making her - bit she assured me afterwards that it was good. Which was the best you could hope for from her.

Neither of us came, but that wasn't exactly the aim - it was just brief naughtiness. I think we had sex afterwards though, but that would have been back at the caravan shed thingy. But that's about as close as I got to sex in a jacuzzi. It doesn't count, exactly, but it was a start.

Next time, I'll go for kisses. It's the next step, and every journey starts with a single step... right?