Cozy Country Club
Rand McTiernan
CHAPTER ONE
Alan Edwards stretched his muscular arms back over his head of blond hair and stretched. His bronze-tanned body arched back as he yawned. When he came back to his relaxed sitting position up on the lifeguard tower, a smug smile came across his face. He was happy, feeling absolutely content and carefree.
He had it easy. A great job. Sit all day by the pool and absorb a great tan, swim whenever he wanted, keep his eyes on the people lounging around or swimming in the olympic-sized pool. That was the best part, watching the people-in particular the females. It was almost impossible not to keep his eyes on the luscious, reclining bodies in their next-to-nothing swimsuits. And the majority were women: that's who came to country clubs during the weekdays while their husbands sat in some hectic office.
Terra-Mar Country Club was one of the most exclusive and expensive country clubs on the whole San Francisco peninsula and he was lucky enough to land the lifeguard job. What a break, what a way to spend summer vacation from San Jose State University, where he was in his second year.
When he wandered into the heavily-gated grounds of Terra-Mar three weeks ago, his pulse was pounding. He never thought he'd get the job. There must have been forty other guys there with applications. But the woman in charge of hiring, some social bigwig named Mrs. Grace Cunningham, liked it when he said, "I need the money to pay for the treatments on the skin cancer I'll get from the sun."
For some crazy reason she thought that was funny as all hell. Next thing he knew they called and he was it. Weekday lifeguard, hundred and a quarter a week, pool privileges and his own private locker.
He had an inkling of Grace Cunningham's secondary motive three days later when she showed up at the pool. This time she was in her swimsuit, if it should be called that. It was a string-tie job, with abbreviated patches of red cotton to cover the last frontier before absolute nudity.
Alan was impressed. She had to be around thirty-eight but it didn't show. Her body was as tight and solid as any of the high-school girls constantly at the pool. Her mature, full-blown breasts filled the skimpy bikini top to the brim and bulged to each side with even more delicate meatiness. She had a flat, firm stomach and deeply cut waist above the husky, ripe thrust of wide, woman's hips. The graceful curve of her ass, only half-covered by the bottoms, slid abruptly down to long, smooth legs.
Grace's well-groomed head of short, jet-black hair was in a perky, "younger" style which complimented the full lips and large, wandering eyes of her face.
"Have everything under control?" she asked with her sultry, intriguing voice.
"Yes, ma'am," Alan replied.