I told you, your lover would give you up," Lydia says, so matter-of-fact.
"He hasn't!" I bark at her.
We are on our way to the lagoon, a mission of mercy, Lydia thinks. She's actually been quite kind to me in the last few weeks, realizing how I'm hurting. I begin to think she's not as cruel as I thought, but this comment reminds me of all the belittling things she's said to me.
"Oh, please, we shouldn't argue," she suddenly changes her tune. "After all, this is a day in the sunshine without the thought of men." When she smiles warmly I see the kinder Lydia return.
I'm often mesmerized by how she can be so changeable. Once she's stripped herself of her clothes and is standing naked, she comes to me sweetly as I prepare to jump into the water. I'm surprised when she lifts the straps of my swim suit and pulls down so that she bares my breasts and then my belly and groin. I'm so shocked that I don't know how to protest.
"Come on now, Camille, have a little fun," she says.
"But what if Llewellyn should come by?"
"He's harmless. Trust me. I know him well."
"Shush." She says it so quietly.
I'm stepping out of my suit feeling the hairs of my pubis tickle my skin as the breeze makes them flutter. That breezes moves between my legs caressing my inner folds and I think of David with his tongue there.
When Lydia leans in to me and kisses my lips, I'm even more amazed and I don't fight her. As though she's cast a spell on me, I can't budge an inch. She runs a hand down my breast and cups her hand over my pubis. Like I'm drunk, I say nothing. But I tremble nervously, feeling my skin crawl everywhere. I hear the voices of reason in my brain tell me this is the devil's work.
"Relax," she urges me with a voice so soft I can hardly hear it. But it caresses me so much that I can't shake the spell she's cast on me. "Don't worry, I'm not going to make love to you. I think sometimes I could though, your body is so beautiful."
It surprises me she thinks that.
"But that would be wrong," I say.
"Why do you do this, and turn around and malign me?"
She snickers faintly, like she's snickering at herself not me. "I haven't been a happy woman. But things are changing."
"I think it's Llewellyn," she says. "He's made this place bearable."
"You love him?"
"I don't know. You can't call what we have love, I think. But it is passionate. And he's been faithful to me." She backs away, leaving me bewildered by this new turn in her affections. I wonder if I can trust it. "He's told me that I've been a bitch because of your mother," she goes on, "and because I resent coming here. I realize how right he is. I didn't want your mother taking my place with father. But it seems kind of silly to let that bother me forever."
I can understand that and feel some compassion for her. Perhaps she does grieve in her own way. Certainly she doesn't grieve for my mother's love, but her father's. Though he's still alive, he retreats more and more into his work and we see him less and less. This is hardly a problem for me, but it must cause Lydia a lot of pain.
"Let's swim," she suddenly turns away and shouts. Diving into the pool I see her naked behind disappear and then her head pull out of the water with her black hair clinging to it.
Suddenly self-conscious of my nakedness, I dive into the pool to feel the unexpected rush of pleasure as the water floods my crotch. I wiggle about to dispel some of the rousing feelings, but they continue to linger as long as I swim and flutter my legs and let the liquid pour around my exposed genitals. My breasts feel the most curious feeling as if they've been set free. My nipples harden and I find myself squeezing them so it fires something in my belly. My pubis aches. Only my hand there seems to alleviate some of the