THE STAIRCASE OF THE LIFEGUARDS, part 1

This story requires a comment. Those of you who were on my previous Patreon, know that I shared part of this story at the time. Now that I am sharing it again, I have decided to make some changes to introduce some details that advance themes and elements that the story will deal with later, or that simply improve the text or add more "color" to it. So, until I reach the completely new written part, I will share about 2500 words instead of 1800, so what you will read now will be the definitive version of one of the stories that inspire me the most.

On the other hand, this is one of those stories that is intended to be VERY long, because I want to chronicle the relationship between Valentine and Kristine from their eighteenth until at least their early twenties (maybe beyond). Some ideas you have suggested to me, like threesome-sexfight for example, will take place in this very long story.

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It was early Saturday evening in Westlake, a small, gated lakeside community in Lakeport. In T-shirt, jeans and flip-flops, with a small backpack on her back and a large-brimmed hat on her head, Valentine Grace Silverman was riding her red bicycle along the quiet streets, enjoying the relative solitude of the last hours of sunshine of the day and the freedom of the summer on her way to the community pool. The leggy, busty eighteen-year-old blonde had finished her senior year of high school a couple of months ago, and had already been accepted to go to college in the fall. At the moment, however, she was completely without obligations, but also momentarily without her friends and without her fellow cheerleaders, as they had all left for various summer destinations—with the exception of Megan Torres, captain of her squad and her best friend. But the raven-haired Latina had been working so many hours at her mother’s grocery store that they were barely saw each other. Valentine had felt a little lonely at first but, having grown up as an only child, at least she had plenty of experience entertaining herself: she went out on her bike every day, but she also kept busy doing Netflix marathons, taking yoga lessons every Thursday or going swimming three or four times a week.

Cycling along Lakeshore Boulevard, the blonde enjoyed views of Clear Lake on her left. A flock of blue herons was flying over the waters, and a couple of small fishing boats floated peacefully in the California sun. Valentine knew at that moment that she was going to miss the simple life of Lakeport when she moved to a crowded metropolis in a little less than a month. But, on the other hand, she was genuinely curious about what her social life would be like in the big city, especially after the last year. It was only recently that the smart, attractive blonde had enjoyed a fair measure of popularity at school, having been somewhat of a really late bloomer, both socially and physically. About fourteen months earlier, her girlish body had turned almost overnight into a full-blown woman’s body, the sudden growth spurt giving her extra-long legs and heavy-weight D-cup breasts, and freeing her figure of all baby fat. The golden-haired cheerleader who returned to high school for her senior year almost looked like an adult woman next to her classmates, her six-foot high making her easily the tallest girl in high school—with the exception of a certain brunette…

The fact that Valentine was now hot, tall and popular didn’t mean, however, that she would have stopped feeling somewhat apart, even from a lot of her friends. The truth, hidden under a genuine pride of her feminine curves, was that she was still not fully comfortable in a body that attracted too many eyes on her—after so many years ignored, it was a lot to digest. There was also the question of her achingly beautiful legs, which alone measured more than forty inches. Valentine had always felt a little exposed when she had worn short skirts or cut-offs out in public, and not even having been a cheerleader throughout her high school years had gotten her fully used to showing legs. In her self-consciousness, she frequently imagined the eyes of other girls staring at the back of her long legs with cool hostility, whispering and gossiping behind her back.

You must leave those fears behind, Valentine said to herself as, after a long and quiet ride of almost fifteen minutes, she finally arrived at her destination. Slowing to a stop in front of Skylark Community Center, she slid off the seat of her bike and locked it up. There weren’t many other bicycles there, but a blue one caught her attention. I’ve seen that bike in front of the school before, she thought, although she couldn’t remember who it belonged to. With a strange and subconscious feeling making her heart beat faster, Valentine crossed the gate, leaving behind the high wrought iron fence that surrounded the complex and went directly to the locker room.

Grateful that no one was there, Valentine took off her clothes and exposed her body in a pink bikini. The reflection of one of the mirrors of the room gave her the best view of her young curves, her generous breasts seductively hugged by her bikini cups, her long legs looking endless under the swimsuit panties. With her manifestly sexy body showing no imperfection, the girl found herself in one of those moments where she did not understand where her insecurities came from: she was very, very hot, and that was an undeniable fact. With an extra edge of self-confidence, Valentine licked her own pink-glossy lips, took a black towel out of her backpack and put her T-shirt and jeans inside it. Then she put her hat back on her head, her pink flip-flops back on her feet and, without wasting a second, left the locker room and went to the pool. Valentine knew she had to make the most of the time, as the place would be closing in just under an hour, but on the other hand, she knew well where to sneak in after hours to enjoy a private swim as she had done on more than one occasion with her best friend Megan—that hardly anyone knew about the gap in the fence behind some bushes was something that surprised her.

Like much of Lakeport, the pool area was relatively empty that Saturday, with only a handful of teenage girls and guys that the cheerleader didn’t recognize lying poolside on their stomachs lazily, and some small children splashing around noisily at the shallow end of the pool under the semi-watchful gaze of their adult chaperones. The blonde immediately noticed the cheeky looks from a couple of young fathers, one of them even checking her bikini-clad body two, three times before winking at her.

Valentine looked away to ignore them, paying attention to the two small ladder towers situated at either end of the pool. One was empty, as usual, but in the other was Jennifer Walsh, a busty green-eyed redhead who had been her classmate during her freshman year in high school. Jennifer looked good in her red one-piece lifeguard outfit, the beautiful, soft curves of her slim body well defined under the tight lycra. The blonde greeted her with a nod, nothing more. She and the redhead had not had much of a relationship, although Valentine never knew if it was due to a personality difference—the other girl was too talkative and self-centered for her taste—or that Jennifer’s best friend was…

Valentine did not manage to finish the thought, as her lovely blue eyes were drawn to a long-legged woman lying on her red towel, apart from everyone else, slightly in the shade of the pool house. She was dressed in a green bikini, and a straw hat was draped over her face, long dark curls of hair spilling out attractively from the edges. Near her beautiful feet, there was a pair of white flip-flops lying on the grass. Who is she? Valentine asked herself just before the girl suddenly removed the hat from on top of her face to fan herself briefly. The blonde felt something stir in her, a vague sense of excitement along with a strange sense of disquiet when she realized that she knew that young woman: Kristine Grace Anderson, the gorgeous brunette that had graduated weeks ago with her, and Jennifer’s best friend. Now she remembered who owned the blue bike outside.

Kristine’s family had moved to Lakeport from Middletown four years ago, just in time for the brunette to start classes at the same high school as Valentine. Since then, somehow the new rather brainy girl had lived a similar life to the blonde, both working on the school newspaper and at a local food bank under the shadow of the most popular girls like Jennifer and Megan. Even after Kristine joined the school dance squad and Valentine became a cheerleader, that hadn’t changed. But the social game of status and recognition had been dramatically altered during the last year when Kristine’s body, just like Valentine’s, finally blossomed to make her a physically arresting long-legged, big-breasted woman. The blonde had climbed to the top of the social food chain, but well aware that the brunette had done so with her.

At that moment, however, those past times were not present in the blonde’s mind, but something that had been chasing her for the last years: the other beauty was very close to Valentine’s twin in physical terms. Even before they became women, they definitely looked like each other, especially the features of their faces, but after the physical changes of the last few months, the similarities had become a painful reality impossible to ignore. The brunette’s strong, shapely legs could match Valentine’s inch for inch, or very nearly, and the tantalizing glimpse of Kristine’s cleavage, squeezed into her green bikini cups and peeking out from beneath the brim of her hat, reminded the blonde that the other girl’s breasts were remarkably similar in shape and size to her own firm, big but not overly outsized bosoms. The two eighteen-year-old women also had similar complexions, tending toward an alabaster pallor that didn’t tan particularly well, and even looked two or three years older than their age thanks to that devastatingly feminine blend of generous height and curves that they both shared. In fact, several of Valentine’s girlfriends—and a pair of short-lived boyfriends—had mentioned more than once the resemblance between the two beauties. The young cheerleader had always tried to counter those comments with claims about the color of their eyes, her blue sapphires opposing Kristine’s dark brown obsidians, but it was obvious that her arguments only gained some weight when she spoke of the undeniably most noticeable physical difference between them: their hair, with Valentine’s golden blonde mane, which spilled straight down her back, contrasting with Kristine’s cool, long dark curls.

Valentine certainly recognized the irritation she felt when others brought the fact up of their corporal and facial similarities to the brunette. She and Kristine had never gotten to know each other very well in school despite being involved in several extracurricular activities together and, indeed, neither girl had ever shown much of an interest in befriending the other, although there had been more of a wary distance between them than anything like hostility or competition. Perhaps, Valentine had always thought, it was because of their physical resemblance that she had never been able to warm up to the dark-haired dancer.

“Whatever,” Valentine whispered to herself as she headed poolside, some of the bitterness of the past bubbling up in her belly. “Our bodies couldn’t be exactlyalike.” Even though the blonde was a little self-conscious about her height, she still nevertheless harbored a secret pride in her long, lithe legs, never having seen their equal among girls her own age, at least at her school. Mine are maybe just a little nicer than Kristine’s, Valentine told herself, trying to hold on to the confidence she had felt in the locker room.

Looking at Kristine, Valentine hesitated to approach her or not. Although they weren’t exactly friends, they did know each other, so the blonde could take the opportunity to break free from her summer solitude, at least briefly, even if it was with a woman who caused her some discomfort. And, to be entirely honest with herself, not everything about the other girl  was negative: Kristine had never bothered her or made a move against her before, and Valentine had to admit that she had always felt a degree of physical attraction toward the gorgeous brunette although, for better or worse, that was a magnetism that the cheerleader had never been adventuresome enough to explore—perhaps, again, because their physical resemblance pushed her away from the other young girl.

“Hi, Kris,” Valentine found herself saying, to her surprise standing over the prone dark-haired woman. In her internal debate, she had not even realized that she had walked towards Kristine, as if her body had taken control while her mind wandered. Now it was too late to leave.

Kristine startled a little at the sound of her name, uncovering her face from beneath her hat again, and turning in Valentine’s direction. Her pretty face almost bumped into the blonde’s ankle, which was stationed right next to Kristine’s head. Valentine saw the brunette angling her neck back, sliding her dark brown eyes up the supple lines of her long legs before staring straight up from between her firm, upright breasts at her smile of greeting.

“Val.” Kristine’s voice was naturally soft, barely above a whisper normally, and slightly raspy. Valentine caught herself staring at the dancer’s full, dark red lips, which were glossed over thinly with lipstick. “Hey, what’s up?” Somewhat surprisingly, there was an indication of genuine welcome in her voice.

Perhaps I’m not the only girl feeling a little bored so far this summer, Valentine thought as her blue eyes lifted to meet the other girl’s. Maybe this is finally our chance to hit it off with each other.

“Just hanging out. There’s not a lot to do these days.” The blonde shrugged, the sun glistened wetly on her smooth, toned midriff, already coated with a thin film of sweat from the summer heat. “Mind if I join you?” she asked after a slight hesitation.

“Well…” Kristine cocked her head to the side, as if considering the proposition, but then smiled slowly. “I could use the company,” the brunette finally said.

With a small half-smile in her eye-catching face, Valentine took off her flip-flops, spread her towel down beside the dark-haired girl and lowered herself down onto it, stretching out her long legs as she leaned back on her hands. For some reason, she noted that Kristine had suddenly decided to stretch out her own lithe legs, which had previously been drawn up slightly. Valentine allowed her eyes to linger for a moment on the brunette’s gorgeous extremities, admiring their shapely length and strength. Suddenly, she felt an impulsive, absurd urge to measure them against her own, with a tape measure or otherwise, to answer some of her deepest questions. Looking up a little, she noticed that Kristine’s dark brown eyes were fixed in her stunning, tough legs, Valentine recognizing in the other girl’s dilated pupils that the brunette was making the same comparison that she had just made.

The beautiful eyes of the girls met then, and both smiled at each other somewhat uncomfortably, lapsing back into the wariness each naturally felt around the other, the initial pleasure of seeing a familiar face having largely dissipated. Valentine found it incredible, but just half a minute after asking Kristine to join her, she had already regretted it, her hope of making a new friend vanishing into the blue Californian sky.

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Words: 2503.