The redhead takes note

Only about six feet away sat the young redheaded woman in the teal suit. Her attention drifted toward Sara and Tom, who didn't realize how closely they were being watched.

The redhead locked her eyes on Sara. Sara was occasionally looking at Tom, occasionally looking down toward the water (beneath which her hands were doing who-knows-what), and occasionally Sara just closed her eyes and smiled. But the redhead gazed intently at Sara.

Even though she could only see the top half of Sara's body, the redhead knew this was a stunning woman. Sara was an athlete - tall, tight, small firm breasts, a rock hard ass, and legs that could crush you ... if you were into that sort of thing. And the redhead was.

She imagined the parts of Sara she couldn't see - her legs, wrapped around her own, the strength of her muscles pulling, holding. Firm. Tight. She imagined Sara's hands - not under the water doing whatever she might have been doing to Tom - but on her own body. Sara had long, thin fingers. The redhead imagined those hands on her shoulders, stroking her neck, using the edge of a fingernail to gently tease and touch the scoop of her neck as it fell into her shoulder blades. The same finger, drifting downward across her breasts, pausing at a nipple, and pressing in, just a bit of pressure, just enough to trigger the nerve endings and send a cascade of sexual arousal through her system, merely at the thought of it.

The redhead gasped and opened her eyes. Sara was still focused intently on Tom, and the way Sara's arm and shoulder were moving, the redhead suspected that Tom was getting some personal attention. The redhead wanted to be in the middle of this story - to receive physical attention from both Sara and Tom, and to provide the same in return. But she didn't want to interfere - not yet.