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This is a short story I wrote a little while ago, it has been published on other sites before, so if you frequent other places, you may well have come across it. It is a work of pure fiction based upon my own particular kinks. I humbly offer it to this group. If liked, I have a couple more stories to add.

The Otter Club

This evening was to be one of those special occasions, The Otter Club were to meet at their house, and David and Shirley were almost beside themselves with anticipation. You might have said they were practically wetting themselves!

Everything was set. The pool area which was to be the main area of focus had been decked for the occasion. There were lights, and decorations, and a small but well stocked add hock bar, in fact everything you might expect for a party. However this time there were to be only three other couples. Maybe more of what the French might have called a soirée!

Shirley went through her mental check list of all the little items a hostess should remember, whilst David was also going through his own list of the practical things he had taken responsibility for organizing. By mutual consent this was not to be a "better bash than last time" sort of keeping up with the Jones’s, each host trying to out do the last. It was generally considered that the content and the setting for the evening was the main reason for them all to attend. And as they took it in turns to host the Club, through the summer months, when the weather was warm enough to host the parties, this was one of the facets that made the group what it was. Easy going, friendly, welcoming and inviting, without being bitchy in any way.

The bar was well stocked, not with the high octane stuff found at some parties, but with low alcohol beers and wines and other soft drinks. A little alcohol loosened the inhibitions, but no on would want to dull their senses for the evening’s entertainment.

This was no ordinary social occasion. This was not "A few drinks at the Smyth’s, or an evening with the Jones's. No, this promised to be so much more. And so much more fun. Hedonistic fun. Debauched dirty fun!

It had started a couple of years ago, when Shirley had noticed an interesting discussion on a certain bulletin board she liked to frequent. The discussion had started publicly on the web-site, but had soon taken a more private role, when the interested parties realized that they had stumbled upon an idea which, although it had to start publicly, they did not want to remain in the public domain.

In short they discovered they were a small group of thirty or forty professional "something’s" who had used the success of their labors to make comfortable homes. Homes in which they could be themselves. Homes in which they could explore and enjoy their sexual preferences. Homes that had private swimming pools, where they could bathe in the any manner they chose, without fear of ridicule, or raising an eyebrow.

Quite a few people had chimed in to the original discussion, but only a few were invited to continue the discussion when it moved on from the public board to the privacy of instant messaging and emails.

Not that the move was an easy step to take. It is one thing to communicate "openly" behind the anonymity of the internet, its completely different kettle of fish to move that discussion on to another level, where you are forced to reveal your actual identity. However four couples had held their collective breaths and had taken that giant leap of faith. Two years down the line no one regretted the move, and everyone agreed that their lives had been made so much richer for the experience.

The great British reserve usually means that no one talks about sex, and specifically their own little fetishes. But when a group of Adult minded people get together and manage to break the taboo, well so much fun can be had. Especially when the people involved are "your kind of people” Professional people, who would have as much to lose as you. Discretion was at the heart of the group along with open discussion and openness.

The first meeting had been held in a pub. Four couples met for the first time. Some with more anxieties than others, but all with a desire to enjoy the company of people who enjoy the sort of things they do. But something just clicked, and very quickly they felt comfortable with each other, and felt more and more able to "open up” and be honest in speaking about what, well to be honest, is not usually talked about, in open discussion like that.

Maybe it was because they met as strangers, was what made it work so well. Eight people, who were not friends at the time, talking without the usual reserve that accompanies both old and new friendships. Eight people who became firm friends so quickly, over a shared kink, a common fetish!

The door bell rang, and two hearts leapt. The first of their overnight house guests were here. They made their way to the front door, to welcome the new arrivals.

No one had to travel more than about fifty miles to any of the other Otter Club members houses, so they generally arrived fresh, on time, and ready for the fun to begin.

Shirley opened the door to reveal two couples, John and Clare and Gary and Margaret had chosen to travel down together, having found a few meetings ago that they were practically neighbors. Well inhabitants of neighboring towns. That just left Dave and Sheila, who had the furthest to travel, but who usually arrived punctually.

Indeed the two couples had not really had time to complete their welcoming, and bring their cases into the hall before Dave and Shelia's Saab pulled in to the driveway. All had arrived safely and the evening could begin.

The couples had all visited with each other before, which made the domestic arrangements easy to deal with. They had all stayed with one another, and so were able to navigate their cases to their respective guest rooms, without too much help with directions. However each of the visiting couples also took a case along towards the pool, where they eagerly assembled, crowding around the bar.

As resident host it fell to David to formally welcome the guests and declare the meeting of the Otter Club open.

He reminded them of the club rules.

1. Although nudity was permitted, this was only to facilitate the changing of clothes, or active sex. Clothing was to be worn at all other times.

2. This is not a swinging group, or a knocking shop! Couples are free to engage in sex at any time, but only with their respective partner. Of course the odd respectful touch or contact was perfectly OK, as long as it was received in the same light hearted vain as it was given. We operate on trust here people, If you abuse this rule you will not be invited back to the club again.

3. Always respect each others feelings.

4. Above all enjoy yourselves, and let the evening commence.

The couples present commenced their attack on the bar.

Initially the four couples stood around the indoor pool in this large detached house in the Home Counties might not have looked out of place. Four obviously well to do couples, dressed in clothing that ranged from casual through to the casual side of formal, might not have raised much of an eyebrow, but the evening would prove to be a little strange if an ordinary cocktail party had been anticipated. However the friends anticipated something very different!

The small talk about jobs and careers was still going strong, as was the amount of liquid being quaffed,, but it was still a good three quarters of an hour before Sheila announced that she was probably going to "open the evening properly" as she put it. There was an appreciative cheer, and the assembled party collectively turned in her direction, while she stepped back a couple of steps, so as to be the center of attention.

There she stood on the generously wide pool side, dressed in her white linen trouser suit, white blouse and cream court shoes. "Oh God" she says, "I really need this", and with that she stands with her feet slightly apart, and looks straight ahead at her assembled audience, not making eye contact, just allowing a dreamy expression to flow over her face. A few seconds passed, and then the collective holding of breath were treated to a sound that could be heard above the light humming of the pool pump, a sharp hiss that developed into a hollow little roar. A stain blossomed in the crotch of her cream linen trousers, and a delighted smile spread over her lips, a contagious smile that spread to the whole group. The dark wet stain grew with intensity as she bore down on her bladder and voided its contents into the white cotton knickers she had dressed in especially for the occasion. The deluge continued down towards her shoes rippling over the surface of her slacks from the little fountain that had appeared at her crotch. As the waters began to dwindle she laughed a little delighted laugh and tossed her head, sweeping her hair over her shoulders as she did. She also shuddered in a way that might have made a casual observer thing that she had climaxed at the same time.

An enthusiastic round of applause greeted the cessation of the flow, and having regained her composure Sheila smiles a self confident smile of accomplishment and performs a deep bow, holding one arm across her stomach as she does. The applause dwindles and she retakes her place within the close confines of the social group.

"I don't think I could of held on to that for much longer", she confessed to the group. "I've been drinking diet coke all the way here, and you know what that does to me! And I had the competition to think of after all!",

"The evening is young", said David, "but I think you have set the bar pretty high with that little performance. Swim?

"No", she replied, "I'll wait till hubby goes in, and join him."

"Oh, come on", said Gary, “I’ll bet you've got that perfectly lovely white bra on under your blouse, and I really can't wait to see your tits when it all gets wet".

"Oh fuck it" says Dave "you can't fight against public opinion!" and with that he begins to pee his pristine chinos, however owing to the little show his sexy wife has just put on, he is still sporting something of a stiffy, and the beginning of his flood starts considerably higher towards his belt than his wife’s lovely gusher only a couple of minutes earlier.

Another round of applause greets the coincidental reaching of his stain to his cuff pants, and the final emptying of his bladder. He then took his wife’s hand and they paraded round to the deeper end of the pool where a small diving board reached out over the waiting waters. They both climbed the small step on to the low board, and sidled hand in hand to the end where they turned to one another, and embraced, the embrace of lovers, kissing deeply. In truth Sheila was busy pushing the last drops of pee into her pants prior to the drenching they were about to receive. Lost in the kiss they over balanced, and plunged, still in each others arms, into the chlorinated water below. In the pool they broke their embrace and swam for the shallow end of the pool, where they kissed deeply again standing waist deep in their freshly drenched clothes. The kiss deepened and the embrace became more intense, more adult! He had his hands on her breasts, massaging her glorious globes through the material of her blouse and bra, he soon moved on to her crotch rubbing her in a delightful, but urgent way through her clothes.

Breathless she says, "come on, time for my orgasm" and without further ado, he helps her out of her trousers, and lifts her on to the edge of the pool and proceeds to carry out an act of oral sex on her person, whilst she holds the sodden crotch of her panties to one side to allow him full access.

All of this is observed, applauded and cheered by the, as yet dry, onlookers, who continue to drink deeply from the bar.

Once spent the happy if bedraggled couple climb up the pool steps and head over to their respective suitcase, lying open in then area of the diving board. They help to strip each other out of their wet clothing, and dry each other lovingly with one of the many towels they have in their case. They then dress in dry clothes, another pair of chinos and a shirt for him, underwear and a light cotton summer dress for her, and rejoin the entertainment at the other end of the pool.

The introduction of water sporting into the wetlook group had been a later addition, the "competition" later again. Initially the group met for social evenings around the pool, which were an excuse for frolicking in the pool in their clothes. It had been at Dave and Sheila's house and in their pool when the new twist had been brought to the group. Dave and Sheila had been avid watersports enthusiasts for years peeing away merrily whenever the chance arose. They were unsure if they could bring this further wet kink to the clothed swimming club, but in the end decided that if they spoke about it within the group they would be able to gauge the collective reaction.

They waited until they were on home turf, as it were, not wanting to disgust the group and spoil the relationship with an unwelcome pee in someone else’s pool. When the drink was flowing and after several people had excused themselves for a more conventional bathroom break, Sheila spoke up.

"Does anyone mind if I try something a bit different tonight" she asked the little group of her relatively new friends. "Sometimes I like to get a bit wet first, before going in the pool, and I'm hoping you will allow me to do so tonight. I understand that it is not always everyone’s cup of tea, but Dave and I have enjoyed this little kink from the very start, and we're rather hoping you will too".

There were a couple of confused looks from the room, but also two or three knowing glances.

John was the first to break the slight pause. "You are talking watersports here aren’t you?" Sheila said that she was.

"Oh wonderful" said John and Claire together, we do that as well, but didn't know if the group would go that way. We've been sneaking off to the bathroom, and wetting our pants on the toilet, before redressing and jumping in the pool before anyone notices a wet spot!”

"Does anyone have a problem with it" asks Sheila, "’cause I think its great fun, and would like the group to be about knicker wetting as well as fully clothed swimming. However if anyone’s going to be appalled I won't ever mention it again, as I don't want to spoil what we have here.

Silence filled the room for a couple of seconds whilst everyone let everyone have a chance to have their say. After what seemed like a long time John spoke up again.

"Go on Shirley, fill your boots!!"

And with that she did.

The group had not looked back since. David and Shirley were the only couple who had not tried the damp delights of wetting themselves up until that point, but after some initial reservations they took to it, well like ducks to water!

Later came the competition.

It had been at John and Claire's house that the hosts put up a bottle of champagne as a prize. "Our house, our rules. We'll have a little wetting competition tonight. It will be an informal thing, and we won't bother keeping a proper score. But towards the end of the evening, we'll discuss who did the best wetting. Please award marks in your own mind for Style, Grace, Quantity and Quality of flow, Size of stain etc. This will be a freestyle event, so we will basically be judging each other on the most entreating pee of the evening. We will be allowed as many attempts as we like. The winner will receive this bottle of champers, to toast their win, and hopefully prime the pumps for an encore. Any questions?" There were none, they all thought it a wonderful idea.

By virtue of the "competition" the women of the group tended to wear trousers for the beginning of the session, only swapping to a skirt or a dress after their initial "show flooding". Their second and subsequent suit of clothes allowed for wet fully clothed sex as the evening developed!

Shirley was the next person to step forward for her moment of fame. She had started drinking soft drinks late in the afternoon, and was struggling to contain an overflowing bladder so as to enjoy the maximum flow when she did open the floodgates. She was a pretty petite woman and she was wearing tight blue jeans and a cream blouse. The guests knew all about David’s swimsuit "thing" and expected his wife would be wearing a Speedo under her clothes rather than the more traditional underwear the other ladies would have chosen for the event. They also knew David would be sporting a ladies one-piece under his clothes. But that was just fine with the group as well.

Shirley made her way to the diving board, and stepped up on to the plastic surface of the board. She made her way to the end of the board and held out her hands. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the Otter Club" she announced, "I humbly offer my contribution to tonight’s competition." With that she stood casually at the end of the board and assumed a legs together standing up straight position. She gave her crotch a very unladylike rub, and then moved her hand out of the way to reveal the full delights of her normally socially unacceptable act. Pee burst from her jeans and soaked her crotch in an instant. Due to the tightness of her jeans the pee spread sideways flooding her thighs as well as radiating down her legs. Oh the sheer delight and joy of abandoning all those years and years of social conditioning and toilet training, and giving herself up the damp rapture of forcefully wetting her jeans. The stain spread out and at the same time down her jeans, pee cascading down the outside of the fabric, glistening as she peed her little heart out. The audience whooped in sheer joy seeing her show, and were clapping loudly even before her streams subsided. Spent she accepted their applause for a moment, then lifted her arms into the crucifix pre-diving position and executed a damn near perfect dive into the waters below.

They watched as her clothed body swam the short length of the private pool to the shallow end where she went to the corner of the pool and nestled into the natural corner of the pool. Shirley sank back in to the water until her shoulders were about level with the water line, her high necked Speedo now plainly visible through here light cotton top and undid the button and zip of her jeans, slipping her hands down into her sex, and rubbing herself to orgasm through the nylon fabric of her swimsuit. A process which, due to her already excited state, did not take long!

It had taken Shirley a little while to convert to watersports. She and David had enjoyed the wet look thing for years, ever since their honeymoon, when they had showered together in that hotel bathroom laughing like loons as their clothes soaked to their skins and made them even hornier. From that day on any occasion they could take to get wet was grabbed with both hands. Neither of them had thought about peeing as well. It simply hadn't been the done thing.

Not that the idea disgusted them now, they immediately understood the difference between elective sexual wetting and the awful incontinence that plagues the infirm, and some of the firm as well. They saw the fun that could be had, but it had taken Shirley quite a lot of work to overcome the ingrained training her mother had drummed in to her at such a young age.

She wondered what she could do to overcome this natural human trait, and it was David, beloved David who suggested the start of the solution. David not only liked her to wear her clothes to get wet in, but he also liked one piece swim suits. He suggested that she should wear a swimsuit in the shower whenever she felt the need, and should pee in her suit in the shower. Later he said that when she used to doing that she should pee her dry suit prior to switching on the shower. Later still it was his suggestion that she should wear her knickers when she went and sat on the toilet. You wash your smalls, so no one need ever know, and what does it matter if you pee 10 pairs of pants a day, had been his characteristically off hand comment.

Shirley found it hard to break the habits of a lifetime, however David seemed to enjoy this new twist taking to it with enthusiasm. It brought a new spark to their love life, so Shirley persevered enjoying her successes for the joy it brought her as well as the effect it had on David! Soon she was positively enjoying her new dark secret, for it's own sake, and she eventually felt ready to go public with her new found skill. Well as public as the Otter Club!

It took several attempts at the Otter Club meetings before she had the confidence to complete a full on wetting, but they understood the difficulties she faced and always welcomed her attempts with encouragement and understanding.

Tonight’s achievement was a new high. An absolute full on, screaming orgasm, honest to goodness, pant wetting, wetting. And if asked Shirley would have admitted that Shirley was probably not the only one to have come in her pants as she went in them.

Claire was the next person to step up to the challenge, but her approach took a different line. She asked John to take a seat in one of the plastic chairs that sat around the white plastic table. John had a good idea of what was going on, and eagerly sat down. Claire walked the few steps in about the sexiest "come and fuck me way" anyone had ever seen, she sat seductively on David's lap, a leg either side of his, with the crotch of her green cotton trouser suit on display for all of the assembled group to see. Shirley had reached her orgasm, and now made it to the side of the pool, leaning on folded arms on the poolside wearing a knowing smile, in full knowledge of what was going to transpire.

John took full advantage of the situation, of having his sexy wife sit with her back to him, her small pert bottom nestled into his crotch, his iron hard erection nestling in his underpants lying in the delightful gap of her buttocks. He wrapped his arms around her with his hands crossed in front of her, gently cupping her breast as she sat readying herself for the release.

"Through the lips, and round the gums, look out knickers here it comes!” She announced and promptly began the dirty delightful act of intentionally urinating in her pants!

John was in second heaven having his wife sat on his knee peeing herself, and peeing over him at the same time. It was all he could do to stop himself from soiling his own underwear, not with his own pee, his erection was far to strong to allow that to happen, if he had had issue in his pants it was going to be his cum!

He reached his right hand down instinctively to rub his wife’s delightfully wet crotch, and she shivered as his hand made contact, but he crowd wanted to see the rabbit, and shouted at him to stop spoiling the fun, and move his hand out of the way, so they could enjoy the money shot.

All too soon Clare’s stream died, and she stood up to reveal a nice pert, and very wet bottom in her trouser suit. Not only her trousers had been dampened by the onslaught of her pee, but John’s had as well. The crowd erupted into spontaneous and rapturous applause, Clair took her bow, and then asked John to stand, she sat on the chair and asked John to stand in front of her. He obliged and nestled in to her, as she sat, again, a bit unladylike, open legged on the chair, and invited him towards her, she embraced his lower back, and turning her head, nestled against his stomach, inviting him to pee himself. It took a short while whilst he tried to allow his erection to subside enough for to be able to pee, but the wait was rewarded with a fresh deluge of pee soaking her jacket and blouse, as well as John’s trousers.

When he was spent John disengaged himself from Claire, and then bent to pick her up from the chair. He carried her, returning honeymoon style, to the side of the pool, and over the threshold into their watery destination. they surfaced, and kissed in the pool, again Dave cupping and massaging her breasts, One of his hands stayed south into the area of her trousers, This time there were no discouraging shouts, and with his hands in her underwear he pushed the open gate of her orgasm, massaging her clit with great skill and gentleness.

All spent out, but not having fucked they climbed out of the pool. Fucking would be the later stage, when the wives were wearing skirts for the "second course" when the initial show wetting had been done, and the more intimate peeing had occurred followed as always by a dunking in the pool, and the ensuing orgy in the pool. They made their way to their own collection of clothes, stripped and dried as far as possible before dressing again in fresh dry swimming clothes. As with everyone the second set of swimming clothes were less "showy" and public than their first set of competition clothes, and the ladies generally opted for skirts, to allow for easier access!

On this occasion Claire opted for white cotton knickers and bra, with suspender belt and stockings (Much to the delight of the assembled males!) and an ankle length light cotton skirt. Much of the swimming clothing owned by the troop had been seen before, they all had their favorite pieces of clothing and this was not a fashion show. They decided early on that they would not attend in new clothes attempting to out do any previous offering, That would be a stupid trap to fall in to, and as John said, in one of the early meetings, he liked the thought of swimming in creased clothes that were slightly past their best, rather than pristine new clothes. Clothes that had been pushed to the back of the wardrobe, had been his comment. It sort of harped back to childhood, when he had stolen some old clothes that would not be missed, and secreted them away to play in later. He had come from a strict upbringing, and was sure his family would not have understood, or allowed him to follow his strange inner, unspoken, obsession to get wet in his clothes (or pee in them for that matter!!) In the early years this had all been innocent fun, it was only when he hit puberty that the "sexual" dimension had really kicked in.

One of the facets of the competition that gained marks had always been the ability to hold on, and several metaphorical marks were awarded for winning the "hold it" competition, and being the last one standing in your original dry underwear. Margaret had won several of the bottles of champagne by virtue of her cast iron bladder, and the inevitable deluge that ensued when she finally surrendered to her need to void. Now it was all good natured, and no one had complained, but John was secretly thinking that it would be a nice idea if Shirley were to win the prize tonight, and so he had planned a little spiking of her guns for this evening.

The conversation had flowed through the polite " how is the job / career progressing" through the usual tales of sexual highs, and on some occasions lows, tips on good things to drink, which would act as a bit of a natural diuretic (primed the pumps a bit quicker!) and had meandered its way through a good many other topics. The talk was quite often based around their wet kinks, and would often return there.

A lull in the conversation gave John saw his chance. Margaret was beginning to show signs of being pretty full. He had watched her drink as much as the rest of them that evening, though he suspected that she had arrived thirsty, in an attempt to steal a march on the "hold it" prize, unlike some of the other ladies who drank on the way, to get things swinging early. Yes, Margaret was definitely doing the pee-pee dance. Her white cotton culottes (a hang over from a previous fashion, but perfect for knicker wetting ) and her black knickers peeping out through the thinning cotton (not a combination any of the assembled lassies would have worn under any normal circumstances, but then these were not normal circumstances were they!!) were probably not going to remain dry and unspoiled for long. But Oh how John wanted to force the issue this time.

In a show of good natured bonhomie John leapt into his prepared joke. The one about the worried Irishman searching the island he had been staying on, for the three foot high nun that he had enjoyed sex with last night. After calling at several Nunneries in the area, and finding no one fitting the description, his mates started jibing him, saying that whilst pissed he had been to the zoo and fucked a penguin!

Guffaws of laugher greet the punch line, and John's eyes home in on Margaret, in time to see her break out into a full on spontaneous belly laugh, that dried almost as quickly as it started. Her hand dived for her crotch, and her features changed to one of shock, as she realized that her bladder had, whilst her brain was otherwise engaged, and her body was wracked with the delightful enjoyment of a damn good belly laugh, taken the matter of being overfull, to the point of bursting, into it's own hands, and sneakily opened the relief valve. The hand that darted to her crotch completely failed to cover up the fact that her pee was escaping her control, and her knickers!

Margaret's party piece was usually to wait until her bladder was screaming for release, and having judged that a suitable time had passed since the last wetting, a time of epic proportions, by the way, a time when all the other guest might have thought that we was never going to perform "the act" (a time when, on occasions, one of the other women were into their THIRD pair of knickers!! ) only then would she pee. She liked to squat down, as if using a French toilet, and pee her pants full force making a freshet of pee cascade like a waterfall from the seat of her culottes, and splash noisily on the tiles below.

Margaret looked around the group hoping that she could stem the flow, prior to anyone realizing that "Old Iron Bladder! had slipped. Her hope was a bit forlorn. Her choice of thin white cotton culottes over black cotton knickers (actually adult sized cotton school knickers) had been chosen to accentuate the pee stain, when it came, and she knew that this would advertise her slip now she did not want it to!

She scanned the group, to see if anyone had yet noticed, and hers eyes alighted on the knowing smile of John. In an instant she knew that she had been had.

"You Bastard" She shouted, smiling as she did, "you made me do that didn't you!". More of a statement than a question. She took the two of three steps forward to where John was stood, in front of a chair, and pushed him backwards into the seat. Without any loss of momentum, she turned and sat on his newly formed knee. All the time her screaming bladder continuing its oh so satisfying, but miss-timed voiding as she continued to "water her underwear" which was a euphemism she enjoyed using at any opportunity.

"No No No" protested John, keeping up the good natured banter "I'll get all wet, Help me someone, this mad woman’s peeing on me!!" But they all stood and watched as he received his just deserts. Deserts he so obviously enjoyed!!!!!!

"Gary, come and help me here" she commanded in her best comic outraged schoolmistress voice So Gary stepped up and undid his trousers, and proceeded to water the front of her flowery blouse, with his own pee, which flowed down her front rendering her blouse clingy and partially see through disclosing her black bra as it went, and mingled with her own flow, in her lap, making its way, some of it via Gary's trousers, to the floor below. As soon as she was soaked Margaret gently took hold of her husband’s fountain, tucked it back into his underpants, and re-zipped his fly. Gary kept on wetting the whole time, never missed a beat, and recycled his beer into his trousers.

The rest of the company thought this great sport, laughing clapping and hooting encouragement as the scene was played out. The damp men strode over to the pool side, and with whoops of delight leapt into the water, sending geysers of water jetting out of the pool as they bombed into the pool.

Margaret was somewhat more sensual choosing to enter the pool slowly, one step at a time, relishing the water soaking through her shoes and socks, her culottes, reaching her naughty bits, and then rising up her body to reach her bra and her tits. For her clothes to become completely submerged she had to walk down the length of the pool, towards the deep end, and the diving board. Her slow drenching was watched by the other members, knowing just how much she savored the slow immersion.

Out of the pool, and in their next run of dry clothes they sat and discussed the winner of the champagne. To no ones surprise the plaudit went to Shirley for her outstanding first complete success. Margaret held no malice towards John, knowing he had acted with compassion for Shirley rather than any malice towards her.

The drinking continued, and as most people had drunk enough to fill themselves again, it was not long before there were eight pairs of wet underwear in the room, and eight bodies in the pool, each frolicking with their respective partner in the mildly chlorinated water of the private swimming pool.

It was in a very damp post coital glow, that Dave, ever the joker, suggested another competition on a future night. "First one to come!"

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