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I had pulled up a chair next to her. The smell of her, as usual, had been intoxicating. Even though I'm sure it was some exquisite perfume she always wore, that smell, to me, was Carly.It was the island and most dressed quite casually. For most of us, casual meant sloppy, but not for Carly. She apparently spent a lot of time on her appearance each day. Even though she had already worked for me for a month, I hadn't seen her wear the same outfit twice. Today, she was dressed all in white, probably a tennis outfit.As I had pulled up my chair, she had reached down to itch an imaginary spot on the upper-most part of the thigh next to me. I couldn't help but look. Her action had bared her thigh almost to the waist and caused her already short, pleated skirt to rise several inches higher in front. She hadn't bothered to push the skirt back down. That was Carly.I had been looking right at the front of her panties. My organ grew in my shorts. After Carly had worked there only a couple of. He saw June pointing and gave thanks to his twin. Now he could row steadily without looking behind every few strokes.When he did look, he found he was gaining, though not very quickly. She was swimming steadily east, away from the boat. He rowed on, and on. He heard the boat’s engine start, to his huge relief. He looked again. Lara was a bit closer, slowing down finally. Only fifty yards perhaps. The yacht was moving, though June’s arm was wavering ... she’d lost track.Freddie looked over his shoulder again ... where was Lara? He couldn’t see her. Then the slight swell lifted her. She was still swimming, crawl, but not as cleanly. She was veering to the right. He rowed on for a minute, seeing the yacht moving round in a wide semicircle, to get ahead of Lara. He looked again.“Lara!” he called, seeing her swimming determinedly on, “stop!”She didn’t though. He had to row for another minute, until he was alongside her. She was tiring fast now. He got ahead and pulled across into her.
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