[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 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 15 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 in the roiling water, letting myself adjust a little at a time. Several other newcomers were doing the same. I had just turned 29 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 19 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 16 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 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 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 3rd Place in High School Varsity All-State Freestyle in 1963, 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 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 back 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 15 years old. I had upped that estimate to a young 17 -- 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 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 of 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, brilliant 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. "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 19 or 20...." She seemed pleased but then she sighed. "How about 16? Barely." Sixteen? Only 16, "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 discretely aware of the sexual act taking place before them. 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 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 16 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', ya 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 -- was 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 25 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 her off -- all in plain sight. The jacuzzi was definitely loosening up. Another robust surfer girl 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 an act of worship. It looked like she was stroking at least two cocks in the process. Philly took all this in with in 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. 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, not in 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 and 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 goose bumps and I shivered, too. She grinned and giggled 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 head in my hands 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 times *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 hair 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-16-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 radiance 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 could not 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 the orgasm rippling up and down the walls of her 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 another orgasm. 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 16 and I was a virgin until a few hours ago! I'm not *ready* for all of 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 16 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. 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. I never saw 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.