Three naked swimmers

"Sorry, mum," Rian butted in, "I can't. I'm on the blob."

"Okay, dear," Susan said, "let's see if I've any spare suits for you two."

Just before I could pipe up mum butted in, "don't bother, Susan. It's just us girls, after all. Oh, and Jake!"

Jake! Why the hell was mum treating the ever-so-attractive Jake as an afterthought to our imminent skinny-dipping session.

"Right," I piped up, "I'll just swim in my shirt if that's okay."

"Laurie Charlene Anderson!" my mother scolded me in front of everyone, "you will not be such a prude around these parts, and you sure as sin will not get that shirt of yours wet!"

"Right," Susan said as she got up and scooted her chair out. Not even bothering to deal with the dishes on the table, she slipped off her nightie and giggled like a schoolgirl, "last one in's a rotten egg! Rian and Jake, you lot can come with and watch us on the deck!" as she darted off with a resounding "wheeeee!" my mum soon followed, and was naked chasing her around.

"Wait!" I interjected one last time, "shouldn't we wait thirty minutes after eating to swim?"

"Oh, that? That's just an urban legend," Susan turned back to pooh-pooh me before continuing her run out to the deck.

"Might as well get it off now," Rian grinned as I stared at mum and Susan with a wide-open mouth.

"...I'll wait till I go in the pool," I turned to her after hesitation, jogging to catch up with the grown-ups before Rian (and Jake!) could see me naked out of the water. I quickly got on the deck, slipped my shirt off, and jumped right in.

The three of us had, I'll admit, quite a bit of fun splashing around in the water. I practiced my breaststrokes and figure-eights, while Susan and mum were just continuing their conversation about the good old days and bobbing in the shallow end.

By the time I surfaced Jake and Rian had already settled themselves in chairs on the deck and were conversing amongst themselves about pop music from decades prior. I had nothing better to do, and it seemed like the less boring of the two conversations, so I just bobbed in the deep end and listened in.

"The Smiths or the Chemical Brothers?" Rian asked Jake.

"Oh dear..." Jake constrained himself in pensive thought "that's not really comparable, it's like asking for the Beatles versus Fatboy Slim."

"Fair, fair... how about the Smiths versus the Talking Heads?"

"The Heads had that trilogy going on," Jake explained himself, "but the Smiths are almost insufferably English. All that jangle couldn't really hold a candle to 'This Must Be the Place', though. How about you, Oasis or the Cure?"

"The Cure are a lot more original, but Oasis just jam better," Rian sipped her tea and shifted in her seat in all her clothes. She even kept her socks on on the pool deck!

I glared at her in envy, with her stupid No Doubt tank top and her stupid black bra and her stupid blue fuzzy socks and her stupid full-length blue pyjama pants. It was almost 90 yank degrees outside, and she was out here wearing a three-piece suit like a real person whilst I was content to bob in the pool as naked as I had been when I was born, my shirt pooled up by the deck.

She wasn't really on the blob, was she? She seemed very chatty for someone having to deal with ... those cramps.

At any rate, I didn't want her to have all this **** power over me that she did with her phone. So I just had to pull her pants down and see what exactly was her situation in ... women issues. Before I could have a second thought, I just pulled myself out of the pool and approached Rian sopping wet and naked as she beamed in my face.

"Oh, what's going on now, cheeky?" she asked before I reached her and went for her clothes.