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Introduction:

On a family vacation to Costa Rica, I allow my teenaged daughter to bring along her best friend to keep her company. It doesn't escape my notice how hot young Scarlet is in her bikini. Before long, Scarlet is asking me to apply sunscreen to her firm body. But that's not flirting or trying to lead me on. Or is it?
We had reached the point of allowing our only daughter to invite a friend with us when we travel. At sixteen, hanging out with her parents just wasn’t as much fun and, frankly, having a friend along kept her entertained and less grumbly than when it was with just the three of us.

Fortunately, our daughter’s friends were all good kids, and none of them unpleasant to be around. It certainly made the prospect of an extra teenager tagging along much less daunting. So, when we surprised our daughter with the news that she could invite along a friend on our upcoming spring break trip to Costa Rica, she was completely thrilled. She asked one of her longest and best friends, Scarlet, to accompany her and enjoy the beach vacation.

It was a full day of travel to get to our temporary tropical home, located a long drive from the capital city of San Jose, so that by the time we arrived at the house we had rented, we had been travelling nearly twenty-four hours. But it was worth it: the house was beautiful, nicer than our own house back home. Modern, tastefully decorated, air conditioned, so after spending days in the hot sun - it typically hit the nineties during the day - we would be able to sleep comfortably and recharge for the next day’s adventure. Most importantly, the private home also had its own pool in the backyard and, despite the long, tiring journey to get there, the girls immediately went to their room, changed into their bathing suits and headed to what would quickly become their second, water-filled home.

We had known Scarlet since she was a little kid, the girls being best friends since kindergarten. But as they became teenagers and asserted their independence, we didn’t see nearly as much of her at our house, the girls spending their time at the mall, the movies and with other friends. So, I hadn’t noticed the young woman into which Scarlet had been turning. As she scurried past me in the living room, it absolutely was not possible to escape my notice, her firm, fit, strapping body as she rushed by in her bikini. Moderately tall and slender, Scarlet looked like there wasn’t an ounce of fat on her body. A seasoned, competitive gymnast, every inch of her seemed strong. Like many gymnasts, her breasts weren’t especially large, but their petite firmness certainly weren’t going to turn heads away. Her torso was taut and muscular – I was sure I could bounce a quarter off her abs, the way I’d been taught to test the make-up of our cots when I was in the navy in my twenties. Her legs were muscular and shapely, with no hint of jiggle as she jogged past me in the living room. As she went by, my eyes were involuntarily drawn to her firm ass, perfectly outlined by her bikini bottom, with only the slightest exposure of cheek descending beneath the suit’s confines. As the patio door slid shut, I shook my head to myself, muttering ‘wow’ under my breath, and reminding myself that this was the same kid I’d pushed on the swings after school with my own daughter.

As tired as we were, I continued to putter around, unpacking suitcases – we were going to be there for two weeks. Eventually, I wandered out onto the pool deck to make sure they hadn’t fallen asleep in the water – it had been a long day! There was no fear of that: the girls were splashing around, laughing and, of course, taking photos they could share on social media. We had thrown together a quick dinner and I let them know that dinner was ready. As they got out of the pool, my eyes couldn’t help but be drawn again to Scarlet’s amazing body. While before, I had momentarily been fixated on what appeared to be her rock-hard ass, as she faced me coming out of the pool, I was nearly mesmerized by the front of her bathing suit: firmly clinging to what seemed to me the perfect shaped snatch, pressed against the soft fabric of the bikini. She slid by me, standing on the patio, and made her way into the house, leaving me silently agog, and catching myself before my mouth hung open.

The next morning, when everyone had finally stirred, we made our way to the beach, about a ten-minute walk from our rental house, down a dusty, dirt road to the national park next to which we were staying. The beach was beautiful, miles and miles of soft sand, leading to the famous ‘whale-tail’ sandbar at its north end. We had scarcely arrived, when my wife and daughter ran for the ocean, leaving me momentarily behind to set up our beach blanket and towels. I had assumed I was alone, when I heard Scarlet. “Danny? Can you put sunscreen on my back?”

I turned toward Scarlet’s voice, to see her standing just in front of me, holding her brown hair up, her pale skin exposed, awaiting my assistance. Assuring myself I had heard nothing playful in the way she had said my name, I mumbled, “Sure,” and began to squirt sunscreen onto her shoulders. My initial reaction was to touch as lightly as possible, as if to barely make contact with her soft skin, and keep some sort of appropriate distance. But, as my fingers nearly danced across her shoulders and muscular deltoids, it occurred to me the gentle touch could be perceived as caressing. I quickly applied more pressure, rubbing the high spf lotion almost vigorously, trying to give the impression that what I was doing was mechanical, and without taking notice of the supple young body on which it was being applied. I could have sworn I heard Scarlet let out the slightest little moan as I firmly rubbed her mid back, but talked myself into believing I had imagined the sound. “There you go,” I said, straightening up after bending to apply the protective lotion to her lower back.

“Can you do the back of my legs?” she asked. An innocent enough request, I reminded myself. She doesn’t want to burn. That’s totally understandable, though another little voice was telling me that while Scarlet might not have been able to reach her own back for the application of sunscreen, the backs of her legs were completely self-accessible.

“Um, okay,” I said, glancing towards the water, where my wife and daughter were gleefully splashing in the waves. I crouched down and squirted lotion onto the back of both Scarlet’s thighs. Her hard ass was now directly at eye level. Looking down didn’t help, as now I was watching my hands reach out to rub sunscreen into her equally firm thighs. She giggled a little as I began to rub the backs of her legs.

“That tickles,” she said, but as my hands moved ever so slightly onto the inside of her legs, I was sure this time I heard the slightest of moans again. Ignoring what was now the beginnings of a stir between my own legs, I managed to quickly finish the job and sat up on the log that was behind us on the beach.

“Okay. You’re good to go,” I said.

“Thanks,” she said, and with no hint of anything other than being happy she was ready to face the sunshine, she sprinted off to join her best friend in the ocean.

I smiled as I watched them all in the water, shaking my head at what I was supposing was my own vivid imagination. ‘What the hell were you thinking?’ I asked myself. Even if she did have a hot body, there’s no way someone that gorgeous was going to take an interest in me. I didn’t have a total dad bod – I still worked out some and as late 40’s guys go, I was all right. But not all right enough that some smokin’ hot little teenaged athlete was really flirting with me. And even if….even if… she was, an opportunity to do something about it was not going to present itself. Right?

The rest of the day passed as beach days do, with lots of swimming, eating, playing soccer in the sand, and just relaxing. And there was nothing else to indicate that what I had been imagining as I rubbed lotion on Scarlet was anything more than my middle-aged lustful imagination getting away from me. And while I did find myself occasionally stealing glances that were longer than what would be deemed appropriate in polite company, especially at that tight, bikini-clad snatch that was so hard not to ogle, the day and evening and the next day carried on pleasantly. Scarlet even managed to get her sunscreen applied by my daughter instead of me, so clearly her wanting my hands on her body had been nothing more than a cancer-protection necessity.

It was on our third night that Scarlet asked me for a favour. “Danny? Would you take me down to the beach for a run in the morning? I have state finals when we get back and my coach wants me to be working out and staying in shape.” It was difficult to imagine how anyone could think this girl was in anything but pristine shape but I also knew that athletes have to train.

“Sure,” I told her. “We should probably go early in the morning before it gets too hot.” There was certainly nothing flirtatious about going for a run, I reminded myself, and we had been getting along innocently enough for a couple of days now.

The next morning, I awoke before everyone else, which was normal for me anyway. It gave me an opportunity for some alone time, sitting on the deck reading and enjoying the warm morning while the girls slept in. By 7:00, Scarlet had risen and came out of the bedroom already in shorts and tank top, ready for her run. “Okay, let’s go.” We spent the ten-minute walk, chatting amiably about high school and her gymnastics coach, how many hours she had to put in at the gym and still keep up with her homework. It sounded like a pretty busy life.

When we got to the beach, we stuffed our flip flops under some bushes, having determined we would run barefoot on the beach. “Okay, let’s go,” I told her, after assuring her that she could run ahead on the empty beach and didn’t have to worry about running slowly for her friend’s old dad to keep up. As long as I could keep her in sight, I felt like I was supervising and keeping her safe, and on the wide open beach, there was not another soul in sight. We set off at a reasonable pace, Scarlet running just slightly ahead of me, though maintaining a pace where she was not getting further away. Truth be told, I preferred her running ahead of me so I could watch her ass as she ran. The exertion from the run was just enough for me to stare at her behind but not have the energy for a boner to spring up in my own running shorts.

Scarlet turned around after about twenty minutes, looping past me before I turned to follow. Though it was not yet eight o’clock, the temperature was already climbing and I could see a clear sweat line down the front of her tank top, her skin glistening with her own created moisture as she went by, smiling but breathing heavily enough that no words passed. I turned to follow her and in the remaining ten minutes, had to work incredibly hard to keep up, as Scarlet increased her pace to the point of nearly sprinting the final five minutes of our run. My own t-shirt was soaked with sweat as we pulled up into the shade of the trees, panting vigorously.

“Holy shit!” Scarlet panted, then glanced at me apologetically for her cussing. I just shrugged it off. “It’s so hot. I don’t think I can do any more.” Sweat was pouring down the sides of her lovely face and I realized the sweat made her even sexier.

“No worries,” I assured her. “That was thirty-five minutes. Not so bad.” We were both panting, our lungs reaching for more air that seemed depleted by the temperature.

“Man,” Scarlet puffed. “My heart is just racing.”

“Mine too.” Without a word of warning, Scarlet suddenly reached out and placed her hand on my chest over my pounding heart, surely having the effect of making it beat even harder.

“That’s nothing,” she said. “Feel this.” Before I could even register a protest – if that’s even what I wanted to do – she took hold of my hand and placed it firmly on her chest where, to be fair, her heart was beating very quickly. I tried hard not to register shock in the moment, that this was just a biological conversation we were having. Scarlet had let go of my hand and in my surprise at her actions, I realized I let my hand linger on her chest long enough that I suddenly looked at her face to see she was looking directly into my eyes with a smile. Quickly, I pulled my hand away, trying to read her face to see if she was alarmed by the length of time my hand was on her breast.

“Yeah. It’s definitely beating fast.”

“Must be the heat making our hearts work harder than normal,” Scarlet shrugged, as though this physical touching was nothing at all. And maybe it wasn’t – to her. But I was definitely aware of movement in my shorts and I turned away quickly, reaching down for our flip flops as a ruse to turn my back, lest my crotch stirrings were obvious. She non-chalantly slipped on her footwear and we headed back to the house, returning to the same, casually inane conversations in which we had engaged on the way down, with no mention or even awkwardness about the hands we had laid on each other’s chests. Could I have been making more of this than she intended? Was she just a kid who was open and not shy about her body and it maybe had nothing to do with sexuality? It was strange to me but kids today are much more open about things than we were at their age.

We passed the rest of the day on a zip-lining adventure through the jungle canopy, the girls screaming in delight as they whizzed through the mountain-top mazes at breathtaking speeds, hanging upside down, posing for pictures, and laughing uproariously. If Scarlet felt any awkwardness after our morning run, it certainly didn’t show. When we got back to the house, the girls once again donned at least their third or fourth bathing suits and headed for the pool, Scarlet slowing down just barely long enough for me to steal a glance at that perfect pussy shot before she jumped into the pool.

We spent the next day around the pool and the beach, and once again, I was asked to apply sunscreen to Scarlet, early in the morning when she arose before the others and joined me outside. This time, I simply applied the lotion to the back of her legs without being asked, and while I didn’t hear the moan as I may have imagined I had before, this time I swore there was some kind of playful look as she said thank you before laying down on a lounger by the pool. That night, Scarlet asked if we could return to a run on the beach the following morning, having taken a day off from her cardio workout.

The next morning, we left the house just after seven, Scarlet having set an alarm so as to be able to get in her training ahead of the heat. We walked to the beach, not talking much, listening to the tropical birds, stopping to pet one of the neighbourhood dogs we were growing accustomed to seeing each day. Scarlet was definitely quieter that morning, so much so I was tempted to ask her if everything was okay. As we reached the same, tree covered spot from which we had begun our run two days prior, Scarlet smiled at me and asked, “Are you going to run with me again?”

“Absolutely,” I assured her.

“Think you can keep up?” she teased, and before I could answer, she grabbed my hand, pulling me down the slight incline onto the beach, holding my hand until she broke into her warm up jog, before running slightly ahead of me again, permitting me that lovely, unobstructed view of her firm ass to motivate me to keep going. A few times, as we picked up the pace, she glanced back over her shoulder, as if to check to ensure I was still with her, each time giving me a little smile, her mouth slightly open as she breathed heavily in the hot morning air. We went slightly further than we had on our first run, and I allowed Scarlet to set the pace and the distance, though admittedly, I was having to work harder than she, trying to keep up with this young athlete.

We returned to our starting point at nearly a full on sprint, and it was all I could do not to collapse on the sand. Scarlet’s body bore a glistening sheen from the sweat of her exertion and the hot morning sun. Despite myself, I was imagining its silky slipperiness if it was to be pressed up against mine. Without thinking, I pulled my shirt off over my head, futilely dabbing my sweating face with the sweat soaked garment. I have a pretty hairless body, not by design – I don’t shave or anything – just by genetics. I leaned over a little, catching my breath. When I looked back up again, Scarlet was standing right in front of me, her own breathing nearly returned to normal already. “You all right?” she asked.

“Oh yeah,” I chuckled. “I’m fine. Just catching my second wind.” As quickly and as unexpectedly as she had before, Scarlet suddenly reached out and grabbed my hand, turning my palm towards her. I expected, and maybe hoped, in that fleeting second, she was going to put my hand on her chest again. This time, I was prepared, ready to quickly assess her pulse and move my hand away as though nothing had happened. I had even practiced the move in my head, along with a comment I would make about her heart rate returning to normal more quickly than it had before, to assure her I was thinking as a coach, commenting on her fitness level. To my utter shock, Scarlet didn’t move my hand to her chest. Instead, she turned it so my fingers faced towards the sandy ground, and pulling it quickly and firmly towards her, placed my hand on the front of her shorts, so my palm was pressed against her and my finger tips rested at the bottom of her perfectly shaped pussy I could feel even through her running shorts.

This time, I wasn’t able to hide the shock on my face. So much so, Scarlet actually laughed a little. At the same time, she pushed my hand more firmly against her, and I could feel the contours through her shorts. Involuntarily, I extended my middle finger a little, reaching the bottom of her snatch, and Scarlet inhaled sharply. “What are you doing?” I finally managed, because I was genuinely confused, despite how clear her signals seemed to be.

She laughed a little more. “You stare between my legs. Your tongue practically hangs out.”

“No,” I stammered, embarrassed, and I started to pull my hand away. But she held it firm and leaned her hips forward, pushing herself against my finger and hand.

“It’s okay,” she said softly, as a warm wind blew across us. “Most of the time I believe in ‘you can look but don’t touch.’ But today, I don’t.” She started to grind in a little circle on my hand, and I pushed with my finger a little harder. This time, I was sure of the little moan that escaped her mouth. I was definitely not imagining it, any more than I was imagining I could feel her lips parting a little, even through her shorts.

“Mmmm,” she moaned softly, and then didn’t say anything else. We stood there, the two of us, under the jungle trees, my back to the ocean, gently rubbing Scarlet between her beautiful legs. We didn’t speak, or even kiss, but just stood there, rubbing together, until, unable to resist any longer, I reached out with my right hand, grabbing hold of Scarlet’s ass cheek and pulling her closer to me. She gasped a little in pleasure, and then leaned in, pushing her pussy even further forward onto my fingers. Slowly, I pulled my hand upwards until I found the top of her shorts, and then slowly pulled them forward just enough to slide my hand down their front. I waited a moment to gauge her reaction and sighed loudly myself when she pulled herself back just enough that my fingers could find my way down to her bare twat.

Gently, I rubbed back and forth, and Scarlet began to rock along with the rhythm of my hand. With my right hand, I reached into the back of her shorts and cupped her glorious ass cheek, then used my finger of my right hand to caress her crack, while my left finger toyed with her clitoris. She began to moan more regularly and with more volume, enough so that I looked over her head and around to ensure we were still alone, and smiled at the realization that the beach and trail were still entirely deserted.

The sweat from our run in the heat made her skin slick and slippery, and soon the sweat was mixed with this young beauty’s own juices. I was taken by how quickly she was moaning with little exhales of pleasure, pushing harder against me until I gently inserted first one, then another finger into her vagina. Scarlet tilted her head back, and I looked down at her as she closed her eyes and began to vigorously pant.

Before long, much sooner than I would have thought for such a young woman, she began to rock forward. “Oh fuck,” she hissed and suddenly she began to rock and moan in little shouts, thrusting herself onto my fingers, while I grabbed her ass harder and pulled her forcefully against me. “Oh. Oh. Ohhhh….” She finally sighed out, and leaned forward onto me, gasping for breath. I slowly pulled my hand out from her shorts and looked down at her. Without saying anything, she just looked up at me and smiled, as if nothing unusual had just happened between her and her best friend’s dad. As she broke free of my grasp, she bent down to put on her flip flops, and I couldn’t resist putting my own fingers in my mouth and tasting her young womanly juices as she was turned away.

She straightened her shorts a little, looked over her shoulder at me, and then started to walk up the trail away from the beach. I quickly put on my own flip flops and followed, scurrying to catch up. It was almost difficult to walk, my own boner nearly protruding from the top of my shorts. As I came alongside her, Scarlet casually said, “That was a good run.”

“Yeah,” was all I managed to reply.

She looked up at my still surprised face and smiled. “I’m looking forward to our next one.” We came out of the trail onto the road, and Scarlet began to talk casually about school again.

I just shook my head and muttered to myself, “Me too.”
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