The sun beamed over the water. I hung near the edge of the pool, stared at young girls of my age and avoided old ladies whose disfigured sagging arms and huge thighs hurt more than chlorine. Some didn't even shave their armpits. The swimming costumes were tight and the caps loose. They whaled around in merriment.

And then she entered. Slowly, she took one step and gracefully the other. The water soaked her parrot green suit-- first her bodice, breast and finally her neck, and she gently levitated her upper body into the water and floated like a thin feather. Piercing the water, sliding her arms and legs in a rhythmic motion, tossing and turning, and then completely flipping over to do a backstroke.
She reached towards me and looked the other way. Then It came to my mind, I knew her. We used to swim together a long time ago. In the swimming Gala, we both won. Her father knew me. I looked at her and smiled, hoping for a reaction. She saw my crooked teeth and instantly recognised me.
"Mayank?", is that you?, she asked
I nodded this time showing my whole teeth.
She jumped over and hugged me tightly; my hand slipping. The sensuousness of her body, her legs struggling to stay afloat while searching for an edge, sliding and gliding, waved and reached my loins. My inner boyhood was tormented and compromised.

The tender peck on the cheek and her delicate arms around my shoulders added more pain and excitement at the same time.
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