The Water Keeps Secrets

By Roger Amadeus

Copyright ©2025

We live in a world where we airbrush our pictures with blemish-free lighting and pretend

that we are perfect. I think that there's a simple reason for this: It's because we want to escape our reality, our world. And just maybe, if we try hard enough, we can construct a new reality.

The problem with this concept is that we often lose interest in the natural, yet imperfect

beauty around us.

True eroticism, in my opinion, is not the result of air-brushed adult entertainment models

on a filtered webcam. Instead, it comes from a kaliedoscope of sights, tastes, touches, as well

as our other senses, which we so often take for granted. And these become embedded in our

memories, bringing us more pleasure than any image on a one dimensional screen. Everytime I smell the scent of vanilla perfume and cigarettes, it still takes me back to my first time.

And such is the following piece. Please note that I have not listed locations or names,

and this was purposeful. First of all, I did so for confidentiality reason,as I believe that we all

have a right to our privacy. Secondly, locations and names are not important. In my opinion, it is the surroundings and situations that create the eroticism. Personal statuses and all of the other trappings of modern society cease to exist in primal arousal. Instead, I used physical

descriptions in lieu of names. In addition to allowing me to respect everyones' anonymity, it also felt….well…. And that was exactly what I was seeking to achieve in this narrative.

I hope you enjoy it like I did!

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"Your luggage will be in your room shortly."

His words were spoken with a deliberate English enunciation. And with that, the bellhop

whisked the suitcase from my tired grip.

"In the meantime, enjoy a drink at the pool."

Before I could turn around to ask him where, he had disappeared into one of the corridors

connecting to the open-air lobby.

In a tired daze, I followed the pea-gravel path into an empty courtyard.

The double-stacked buildings stared at me brightly, as the noon sun bounced off of their white-painted colors, making me squint.

There were no slamming door sounds or movement.

Tropical bird caws emanated from two small speakers at the foot of a palmetto, which stood in

the middle of the courtyard. I felt as if I had wandered onto an empty movie set.

A pea-stone gravel path slithered in an "s"; curve throughout the courtyard, disappearing between two outer buildings and replaced by placemat size stepping stones. These curved

around more palmettos, meeting a waist-high, chain-linked fence that hung ajar.

An elderly couple reclined in beach chairs, holding hands. The placid water in the small pool

sparkled in the noonday sun. A sideways-turned keg lay empty on the metallic surface of the

swim-up bar. A torn, yellow cloth from the overhead canopy hung down, as sunlight broke the

partial shade.

My flip flops pressed against the sun-baked concrete slab as I walked past. The stepping slabs wandered near a slope, which was flanked by scrubgrass, and then disappeared.

Steps with a wooden guardrail appeared, guiding downward to a beachfront. The brightness of the blindingly white sand made me squint. Instinctively, I reached for my sunglasses, and then remembered that I had left them in my luggage. I kicked off my flipflops and waded in the warm water.

The silence was broken by the back and forth washing sound of the tide, as it softly lapped the shoreline.

The tingling warmth of sun, along with the swishing sounds of ocean water, lulled me into a

trance. Meandering through the wet sand, I almost felt like I was moving in slow motion through a dream.

And then from a far away distance, I heard it; a distant sound like a metronome. It seemed to

originate from the beach's north horizon.

Northward about one hundred yards more, the metronome beat became louder, eventually

evolving into a pulsing rythmn.

And then within another one hundred yards, ant-sized shadows emerged from the horizon.

Adrenaline sparked from my increasing curiousity, and I awakened from my trance.

The ocean sounds were soon replaced with the echoes of chatter, as the rythmic pulse grew

into a vibrating thud of bass.

A few more steps and the beat morphed into the familiar chorus of 2 Live Crew's "Hoochie

Mama".

A large splash of waster, carrying an inflated beach ball, tumbled down from a two story, oval-

shaped stone pillar. Shouts and the clinking of glasses echoed from above.

After rinsing my feet at the outdoor shower hose on the concrete slab, I began to ascend the

staircase. Descending on my left, an elderly women, held the left arm of a grey-haired man of

similar age. Her breasts swung freely, swaying with each step. My eyes moved downward as I

didn't want to get caught staring at her naked breasts.

And such was the case with all at the pool, which was in the shape of a large lima bean and

painted a deep blue with water jetting down a faux waterfall, which, off to the side, hid a cubby hole that was big enough for two people, etched into the stone.

The shades of blue and stone gray were interrupted by patches of flesh. Some were the dark

color of well-worn leather; others were freckled and fire red. Meanwhile, others were pastey

white. And then there were the occasional beautiful shades of almond brown.

The funny thing was this: Despite their different shapes, sizes, and colors, they swayed and

moved as if they were part of something bigger, like multi-colored patches on a tropical snake or miniscule, differing shades on flower petals. They all seemed to become one.

Glancing around self-consciously, I pulled the drawstring of my swimtrunks and let them fall to

the ground. The reactions were non-existent. I jumped in and became part of the swirl of

moving, breathing flesh.

The lukewarm water was soft against my skin, almost causing me to forget that I had nothing

on. A blonde woman, wearing a cowboy hat and sunglasses, made out with a brunette in a

ponytail, as a middle-aged balding man stood behind her, his hands groping her breasts. He

nibbled the nape of her neck, as a smile curved across her lips, which were open as she made

out with the cowboy hat blonde.

And just as if this was the most normal thing in the world, an elderly woman in prescription

sunglasses reclined against a floating foam pool noodle, her gardening hat shading her face

from the sun. An otherwise pale gentleman with liverspots checkered across his reddening

head, gently rocked the noodle back and forth, as she swayed and smiled at him, neither of

them paying any mind to the spectacle going on next to them.

"Folks, are you ready to parrr-TAY?"

A voice rumbled from an outhouse-sized hut. A younger guy with sunglasses and a hat turned

backwards waved his arms from the open booth.

And without so much as a sound fade, Fred Durst's voice moved on top of the ending song's

beat.

Backward Hat Sunglasses exageratingly cupped his palm near his ear.

The forming crowd near the poolside cheered.

"I can't hear you!"

Sunglasses Backwards Hat leaned out of his booth futher. The chorus to "Nookie" blared

through the speakers. The crowd became louder, as they excitedly chanted the lyrics.

A barrel shaped guy, whose chest was the color of a boiled lobster, whistled loudly. The woman on his shoulders threw her fist up in the air, thumb and pinkie pointed to the sky, She wiggled, rubbing her enormous breasts, which were the color of pale white compared to the rest of her, on top of his bald head.

The chanting grew until it reached across the entire pool. Appearing at the top of the gridlocked congestion,, a small-framed woman, who appeared to be in her early 20's with a do rag, which pushed back her mop of blonde hair, crowdsurfed towards the side of the pool. Her naked buttocks landed on the concrete poolside with a wet slap.

A graying brunette with her long hair pulled back in a scrunchie swam up to the side. Blonde Do Rag stretched her right leg out teasingly, as graying brunette grabbed her ankle and began to kiss the inside of her calf. She wiggled the toes of her outstretched food and began to moan loudly, her abdominable muscles contracting inward with each deep breath.

"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about!"

Sunglasses Backward Hat pointed down from his booth. Craning my neck over the growing crowd, I saw that Scrunchie Brunette had climbed out of the pool, and her head had disappeared between Fairy Tattoo's thighs. Sun glistening against her sweat and tanning oil soaked torso, she kneeled forward, as if worshipping an ancient statute god.

Blonde Do Rag began to squeal and buck her hips back and forth, as if riding a mechanical bull turned vertically. She grabbed Scrunchie Brunette by her hair, pulling her closer.

"Squirt….squirt…..squirt."

The crowd shouted and cajoled.

With all of the pool splashing, I'm not sure if she squirted. However, based upon her animated

movements she was clearly enjoying herself.

Thirsty and sweaty, I moved away from all of the pushing and shoving,towards the bar.

Moving towards the canopy, I searched for a vacant concrete pillar to sit. No such luck, as

people crowded elbow to elbow, awaiting their drink orders.

With my arms above water, I tiptoed carefully around the bare asses, swinging dicks, and

otherwise bare torsos that crowded my space.

After the bartender handed me my draft beer in a plastic cup, I turned around to leave. And at

that moment, I felt an ice cold, sticky liquid hit my chest.

"Oh my goodness! I am sooo sorry hun!"

I looked up to see a middle-aged woman with firey red hair.pulled back in a sweaty knot.

He southern accent slithered into soft, elongated syllabels.

"Let me clean that up sweety."

And before I could refuse, she leaned into my upper chest and ran her tongue downwards,

finally making an "s" curve around my right areole, before gently tugging my nipple with her

teeth.

She then grabbed my right hand and threw her arm up in the air in a cheer.

"Is this your first time here, hon?"

I confessed that it was, and she waved me off nonchalantly.

"Don't worry about a thing. You'll be just fine!"

Her green and purple Mardi Gras beads enthusiastically bounced against her hanging breasts.

That's when a wave of flesh pushed against me, and I was shoveled to the left. Yells and shouts followed, as a group of people played "hot potato" with a beach ball.

And with that, she disappeared into the wave of people.

As the afternoon waned, the crowd began to thin and the music became quieter..

Couples climbed out of the pool and meandered down the steps toward the beach. Meeting at the beach at sunset was a nightly ritual here.

The scent of salty ocean water with a hint of suntan lotion permeated the gentle breeze. The

remanents of an orange hue hung desperately in the sky. It slowly became eclipsed by a light

purple shade, which became darker with each minute.

I found a pool jet and closed my eyes, letting the warm water pummel my back.

An earthy scent like burnt oregeno teased my nostrils, causing me to open my eyes.

"Hey there. Having fun?"

It was Redhead Beads. Her sun-baked skin glowed brightly in the dusk.

She took the smoke out of her mouth and handed it to me.

As I took a drag, I felt her hand, which had disappeared beneath the surface of the water, I

closed my eyes as she gently tugged me, back and forth.

After a few minutes of this, she stopped. I opened my eyes to see her glancing over at a group of men and women from across the pool.

A pony-tailed man with a beard smiled at her, and she blew him a kiss. He smooched his lips at her, and then turned back around to the group of men and women, preoccupied with the

chatting.

"Hop up there."

She pushed my back up against the sloped edge of the pool, and I happily complied.

Looping the necklace around my shaft, she rolled the beads up and down. The soft feeling of

electricity made my erection grow. Teasingly, she flicked her tongue along the tip of my head.

And then, further opening her mouth, she inhaled my cock from all the way down to its base.

She moved her mouth up and down intentively her mouth opening wider with my increasing

excitement. My precum along with her saliva felt like silk moving along my tight foreskin.

After a few minutes of this, she paused and looked over her shoulder nervously, as if to see if

anyone was watching.

Pony-tail Beard Man was laughing loudly, gesturing and waving his hands as he told a story to

the amused men and women standing around him.

Seeing that he was clearly preoccupied elsewhere, she leaned into me, her seductively, warm

breath in my ear.

"Be really quiet. He doesn't like me to do this with other guys unless he's around."

I felt the soft flesh of her inner thighs snuggly squeeze my knees together, as she wriggled up

onto my lap.

I felt the bristle of her landing strip move across my lower belly, as she tried to situate herself.

And then there was the tickle of her press-on nails, followed by her firm grip around my

throbbing member.

She pushed herself downwards, as her inner muscles contracted around me.

Thrusting my pelvis upwards, I drilled deeper into presumably unexplored areas, the wetness of the pool water replaced by her natural lubrication. Her eyes widening, she suddenly put her

hand over her mouth.

Sliding slowly back, I stopped short of pulling all the way back out, for fear of pushing any pool backwater into her.

"Keep going."

Her raspy whisper, scented with smoke and coconut rum, tickled my ear.

As if riding a seesaw, she moved up and down, slowly at first. her eyes closed in ecstasy.

The gentle lapping of water began to slap the concrete tile as she sped up, bucking her hips

with each thrust.

Sliding up and down, she began to make soft breathing sounds.

Pony-tail Beard Man's back was turned, still entranced in whatever conversation about the latest football game or such.

With my right thumb, I reached down below, I lightly strumbed figure eights around her swollen clit, which had grown to about the half size of a green pea. My mouth watered as I yearned to taste her juices, yet, because of our predicament, was unable.

"Oh my g...."

Her words cut off with a loud gasp.

She grinded harder, and I struggled to stay insider her.

"Don't stop! Don't stop!"

Her voice dangerously moved up a few octaves, and I started to worry that Pony-tail Beard Man would turn around.

Her ankles curved around my flexed calf muscles, as I struggled to control myself.

"There! Right there! I'm cumming!

Her tensed body gave a final flex, and her curled toes dug into the back of my legs, leaving

scraping marks.

Riddled with the underwater's lack of gravitational pull, her torso bobbed upwards.

Simultaneously, her iron-tight kegel muscles pushed my unquenched erection out.

The reddend, sun-baked skin between her chest and neckline was a little redder. A thin map of veins trailed downwards from her throat, as she gasped for breath. Pulling her knees towards her chest, she playfully rolled into me and giggled, as I reclined against the concrete slab.

"Thank you."

Her raspy, discreet voice teased my ear, and then she nibbled on my earlobe in a "good-bye"

kiss.

Casually, she turned her back to me, making her way back to the group on the other side of the pool.

Sliding her arm around Pony-tail Beard Man's large waist, she moved inward as he pulled her near, giving her a kiss on the cheek. A moment later, she threw her head back, laughing at a joke or whatever interesting story that was being passed around.

A few minutes later, the group of couples split up and moved out of the pool. Ponytail Beard

Man and Redhead Beads moved towards their beach chairs and dried one another off with their towels. After another embrace, hand-in-hand, they sauntered down the stone stairs.

Purple dusk had blackened into nightfall. I stepped out of the empty pool.

The gentle lapping of foam against sand moved in cadence with my decreasing heartbeat. A

gentle cawing echoed through the silence, as the last seagull moved outward with the tide, into the dark horizon.

Just like in the animal kingdom, so too were we humans.

Blood still pumping through my body, I felt alive.

About Roger Amadeus:

"Roger Amadeus"; was someone who you would call "late-bloomer". Unsure of himself

and who he was, he stumbled awkwardly into puberty and beyond. Likewise, he remained a

virgin until his early 20's, at which point he was seduced by a woman almost ten years his

senior. Once while attending a Halloween party, he received a blowjob from the wife, as the

host watched. From there, he fell into the swinger lifestyle as an invited participant to private

parties.

"For me, fantasy that is grounded in reality is the ultimate turn-on. I don't want to

imagine myself having sex with blemish-free pinup models. That's not reality. In The Water

Keeps Secrets." We explore how a naughty situation, a "if you will, can electrify the total

sexual experience more than any fictitious porn ever could. And just as people are all different, so are our individual kinks."