I was sitting downstairs and my thoughts were running like a whirlwind, not being able to stop or concentrate on any single thing.It was about an hour...and a half later when Lindsay came down. She walked straight into my study, opened a cabinet and took out a glass and a bottle of brandy. Then she poured herself a goodly amount of brandy, took a sip, and frowned. She poured some more, took another glass and poured some brandy in it. She gave it to me, and waited. It took me some time to. Their tan lines were magnified in the water, as was the paleness of their bums, the darkness of their cracks and the pinkness of their areola. I became comfortable erect.Shy swam up to me and come close to the edge and reached for her glass of wine. She looked at my rigid cock. “Having fun are we?” she asked, sipping away, a touch mischie-vous.I grinned, shrugged, trying to play it calm. “And you?”“A bit chilly, but it’s nice.”Cee approached from the centre of the pool, the water waste deep,. "My rules of course," Well rules are made to be broken, so tell me why should I take any notice?"I thought for a moment knowing full well I didn't have an appropriate answer."Because I said so, that's why."By way of response he moved his hands down and squeezed my buttocks over my skirt."Now now Andy, what did I just say?" You said no tickling? I'm not tickling you." Oh! Then what are you doing?" I asked as he squeezed my bum again."Isn't that obvious, I'm just having myself a good feel of this. There were vague after-images of things, people, places, but nothing really coherent. Instead, he recalled emotions. Fear, anxiety, happiness. Sometimes, rare times, he realized he was dreaming while the dream was unfolding, allowing him to take control of things. Those dreams were the shortest, as if his mind didn't want him directly connected to his subconscious. So as he woke that morning, he wondered exactly what it was that was happening. Was he dreaming? If so, he could do.
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