backyard sunbathing

The sun was a hammer on the rooftop patio, beating down on the wooden decking and turning the turquoise water of the above-ground pool into a shimmering, liquid jewel. Osa felt the heat sink into her dark brown skin, a deep, pleasant burn that made the thin yellow fabric of her micro bikini feel like nothing at all. It was sheer nylon, the type that clung with a static desperation, and it was failing spectacularly. The top—two fragile triangles of gauzy material—struggled to contain the pert, rounded swell of her small breasts. They were high-set and perky, a perfect handful each, with large, dark areolas the size of small saucers and prominent, black nipples that were pierced with delicate golden barbells. The barbell ends peeked shamelessly through the thin cloth, creating tiny, tempting bumps. Below, the bikini bottom was little more than a thought, a flimsy triangle of fabric doing nothing to disguise the neat, delicate split of her labia. The string, a single golden thread, bisected her so intimately it might as well have been a second tongue, digging into the plump, smooth flesh of her pussy lips and creating a deep, inviting crevice.

She lounged on a long pool chair, one slim leg crossed over the other, the sunlight dancing on the smooth skin of her shoulder, kissing the delicate expanse. A ray broke through the slight haze, drawing golden patterns on the small, rounded swell of her chest where the bikini top strained. The skin on her flat abdomen shone with a warm honey light, emphasizing the soft curve leading down to the blatant promise of the tiny swimsuit.

The sliding glass door hissed open.