Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. ï>¿Thia's Famous Swimsuit Tale by Thiagawr Thia's swimsuit lets her down. This particular summer, Thia and I are staying in a rented farmhouse somewhere near Oban for our vacation. As is often the case, our friend Barry is with us. We've all known each other for quite a few years, and generally holiday together as we enjoy the same interests and the chance to spend time together. Barry hasn't had a girlfriend for the last couple of years. We are all in our mid-twenties. It's quite late in the evening and Thia has a problem. She is fretting about a green swimsuit that she has brought with her; I feel like going for a swim together in the next day or so, but she is concerned that her swimsuit is too sheer. Not for the first time (Thia has had this swimsuit for a couple of years), I reassure her that it's fine, that it's not as sheer when viewed by an onlooker as it seems to be when she looks at it herself while wearing it, and it doesn't change very much when it's wet. For entirely altruistic reasons (it is claimed), Barry offers to perform the role of an impartial judge -- if Thia puts on the swimsuit, he will opine as to its transparency and suitability. Thia looks at me for guidance. Unfortunately for her, I have not really been entirely honest with her. The swimsuit IS very sheer, it really is. It has high-cut legs, a very low back and a scooped front. It is a light, neon green colour and when dry, provides only a visibly-thin layer of barely-there discretion over Thia's five foot six, 34C, shapely frame. When wet, it simply looks as if she's naked but wearing transparent, pale green paint -- apart from a postage stamp sized gusset piece (almost all of which is out of sight underneath), it hides absolutely nothing at all. Sorry about that, Thia. But first, let's briefly transport ourselves back in time a couple of years. We are staying a few days at Christchurch in the New Forest. Again, (for some of the time) Barry is with us. Somewhere or other, I come across some sort of promotional material for Romsey Rapids -- one of those theme-park type swimming destinations, with pools, flumes, waves, waterspouts and so on. I love that type of thing because I like swimming and being in and around water but easily become bored in a traditional swimming pool. Thia agrees to give it a go with me, but Barry decides to stay behind. Thia has with her the green swimsuit that will subsequently become famous. It is brand new. I talked her into buying it because it looks so much better and more sexy than the one she was then using. That one was opaque, air-force blue with a couple of diagonal stripes across it (one red, one white) and looked like a "school uniform" sort of affair. Barry has actually seen Thia wearing that very item in the local swimming pool, but doesn't realise she has with her the far more interesting, green alternative. I manage to talk Thia into coming to the Rapids with the new swimsuit. She worries about it. That's because it's much more "designer" than she feels comfortable with, and it seems very thin and sheer, even when it's dry. Oddly, neither she nor I have seen it or tested it in circumstances where it's wet...yet. Despite Thia's trepidation, I'm feeling confident that this Rapids visit is going to be great fun and one to remember. Romsey Rapids is not really the sort of place where you go to swim. It's more the sort of place where you get soaked but spend a lot of time out of the water -- walking, queuing, climbing steps, etc. As Thia emerges from the changing room and looks around for me, it is obvious that things are going to be interesting. That swimsuit is very, very sheer. She finds me and immediately comments on the fact. "No one's even going to notice," I lie. "And it's fine. Honestly, it doesn't look like you think, especially from a couple of steps away." We step down into the water -- two or three feet deep at that point -- and Thia lowers herself to neck height before immediately standing up again. Apart from the green pigment, the swimsuit is now all but invisible! It's almost as if it has dissolved in the water, leaving just a pale stain on her skin. Hmm... I might have my work cut out here! "It's gone transparent!" she exclaims. "What? No... Honestly, it's fine -- a tiny bit sheer maybe, but barely noticeable." Gulp. Nevertheless, she raises her top half from the water once again (having ducked back under on discovering the transparency of the swimsuit), and examines her breasts. Visually, I mean! "James! It's transparent!" It takes several further minutes of turbocharged reassurance to get Thia to believe that it looks fine to me (I didn't actually define what "fine" meant) and is no worse than several other girls are wearing (it is!) but eventually she half-accepts it and relaxes just a little bit. We swim for a few minutes and then decide to go on a flume. We walk to the shallow end of the swimming area - it's a "beach", so you just walk straight out. In doing so, I now get to see Thia from behind. To all appearances she's naked, with a pale green bum and sides (her back is bare anyway). In places, the wet fabric clings to her skin so tightly that it doesn't even look green. Gulp. Thia is going to kill me when she realises. Two young boys excitedly push in between Thia's bum and me. I hurry past them, get in front of Thia and walk quickly just a few steps to get ahead a little. I look back at her. Oh, oh -- nothing is hidden at all. The swimsuit really has gone absolutely transparent. Every detail of her is fully, clearly, eye-poppingly visible. Ironically, the little white gusset lining right down at the bottom draws the eye particularly, and it's just a tiny little thing which hides nothing and actually emphasises her neat, very dark, slim little triangle of bush. Thia doesn't seem to think to look down at what might be on show. Either that or she thinks doing so would serve only to draw attention to herself and so avoids it. For the next hour, my heart is in my mouth -- surely she is going to be asked to leave? You can't walk around like that in a public pool! Before long, I can see she's attracting attention. Surely, surely she is going to be asked to leave?! Thia herself? Utterly oblivious: she has forgotten about her concerns, trusts my reassurance and doesn't seem to notice people looking. She is simply enjoying herself and unaware of the goings on. Waves, flumes, plunges, showers, slides, shutes - she's having a great time. And then... we come to the submerged water jets! At the bottom of the flumes and slides, riders plunge into a catch pool. From this, you can -- if you wish -- be escorted around most of the perimeter of the facility by water jets that push you along in a raging current (the Rapids) in a serpentine channel, all the way back to the steps back up to the slides. Those water jets are tremendously powerful and are located, at intervals, in the channel walls at thigh height. The outlets, angled appropriately downstream, are about five or six inches in diameter and I discovered that if you felt like doing so, you could walk through the water against the current (but only just: in fact that challenge was my motivation) and encounter the outlet directly on your thighs where it would give them a fearsome pummelling. Wow! I know someone who is just going to love this! (The reason I know how keen she will be is the subject of another water-based tale.) I look around for Thia. She's nowhere to be seen, but finally I spot her half way up the flume steps with a small retinue of boys in tow, squabbling for prime position. I hang on tightly to a small ridge in the tiling at the edge of the channel, on the up-stream side of "my" water jet. Even on that side of the outlet, it's quite hard to avoid being swept away and along. Eventually, Thia appears. She manages to pause beside me just long enough for me to grab her arm and I pull her towards the wall of the channel, out of the fiercest part of the current, placing her between me and the jet outlet. "What's the matter?" she asks, while sensing the ominously violent pulsing and surging right next to her. "It's a water jet: you'll like it! It is really powerful. If you crouch a bit, drift to your right and hold on very tightly to my hand, you will thank me!" She grips my right arm and does as I suggested. The incredibly strong torrent hits her body's relevant lower regions with brutal force, triggering a huge gasp from Thia as she tries to manoeuvre herself for best effect. To her surprise as much as mine, mere moments are all it takes for the powerful force to overwhelm her, pummelling her rapidly towards the inevitable, orgasmic culmination of the stimulation. Her face flushes, her head tilts backwards and her eyes threaten to pop from it. "Thia...!" She can't reply: paralysed by the overpowering sensation. Her eyes roll and her fingers crush my wrist, onto which they are holding. But poor Thia... Probably a single second before the inevitable happens (she'll be okay: it's a very noisy place), a lifeguard appears right above us, so I release what little remains of my grip on my handhold and we are carried away by the current, leaving Thia in quite a flustered state and still fiercely gripping my wrist. As she steps back onto the stairs back up to the flume (yes, she's going round again!), she is shaking like a leaf. Although she snatches a further couple of attempts at that outlet en passant, she doesn't get the result she was wanting: the current is too strong and defies subsequent attempts to hang on to the edge. Eventually, it's dealt with back at base, where her urgent self-rubbing quickly produces an orgasm that's predictably fierce and explosive. All things considered, it's fair to say we both really enjoyed our one and only visit to Romsey Rapids, even though it was a visit during which Thia could easily have found herself banned. Twice! Now let's shoot forward again a couple of years, and back to the start of this tale, in the farmhouse near Oban. It's late evening and Thia is awaiting my guidance on whether she should "model" the swimsuit for Barry, so he can comment on its suitability for use on what will be only its second outing. For my part, I can't see any harm in it and it will certainly make him see Thia in a different light (which could even be quite an amusing thing) so... Thia trots off to the bedroom, in her clumpy Kickers shoes, everyday jeans and comfy jumper, while I wait in the lounge with Barry and he pretends to be thinking about what to do tomorrow. A few minutes later, a very different version of Thia appears. Barry and I are sitting side by side on the sofa, as Thia walks a little self-consciously to stand directly in front of us. Honestly, I get a bit of a shock myself, having rather forgotten how very see-through the swimsuit's material is, even when dry like this. The lighting in the room seems somehow to increase the transparency and, right now, I'm amazed she's had the gumption to walk in looking like that. She stands in front of us in a slightly awkward, cutesy manner, with her feet pointing at each other and her hands held together in front of her crotch, while her upper arms make a half-hearted attempt at breast concealment. Despite that, her nipples and areolas are not difficult to see through the flimsy green coating. "Do you think it's okay?" she asks. I can sense her unease as Barry's gaze begins at her breasts and moves downwards, his perusal slowly passing her navel and arriving at the inevitable area of interest some distance below it, where her hands are failing to do much of a job of concealment; ironically, I think they are somewhat drawing attention to the problem. Here, too, the thin fabric is an ineffective disguise to even her most personal anatomy, so the accompanying, neatly close-cropped hairstyle of her dark little bush is easily discernible. Uncomfortable, she quickly switches the positions of her arms, so that her right forearm and hand are now across her chest, while the straightened fingers of her left hand partially cover the area between her legs. "Can you stand up straight, so I can see properly?" asks Barry. Thia does so. In so doing, she realises her attempts at covering herself are making matters worse, so she finally (slightly theatrically) drops her arms to her sides. The self-conscious model adopts an expression of faux irritation and (on request) does a quick 360. Then (on slightly firmer request) a much slower one, pausing (as asked) at the bum view, before facing us once again. "Well..." Barry begins, "First of all, let me say that you look absolutely fantastic!" Thia wriggles her lips into a slightly embarrassed expression. Her hands briefly reconnect in front of her crotch, but then she moves them apart again, instead opting to fold her arms in front of her chest. Then this idea too is abandoned and her arms eventually, rather awkwardly, find their way to her sides again, completely abandoning the futile, counterproductive attempts at preserving her modesty. Barry continues, "Really stunning, to be honest. You should dress like that more often -- I would never have realised". "The swimsuit...?" Thia interjects, now genuinely embarrassed. "Well it's a bit sheer, yes that's true," he admits with heavily controlled understatement, while using the question as an excuse to lean forwards a bit and peer even more closely through the pale green layer, his view no longer interrupted by Thia's arms and hands, "...but not terribly so: it's nothing very out of the ordinary nowadays in that respect, even if it feels it to you. Like James says, it probably looks different to you yourself. It looks like it will be perfectly acceptable even when it's wet." It's a blatant untruth, but does seem to put her more at ease. Phew! Crisis averted, it seems. Thus (not really very) convinced, Thia returns to the bedroom to get dressed again. Barry gives me a wide-eyed look that combines obvious approval with something akin to shock, and he mouths the word "Wow!", as I get up from the sofa and follow Thia to the bedroom, wondering what she will have to say and feeling a bit guilty at having previously assured her it wasn't very revealing at all. She watches me come into the room and close the door, before walking back over to the door herself and standing with her back towards it. She slumps most of her weight onto one leg and, unexpectedly, a slightly naughty expression appears on her face. "What?" I ask. "Was that okay? Did it feel a bit odd?" I'm expecting to have to calm her entirely justified annoyance at having been misled. "Do you think he liked it?" Thia replies. "Do you mean the swimsuit, or seeing you in it?" Silence. Her eyes dart to one side and her tongue's tip appears at the corner of her mouth as she peels off the swimsuit and steps out of it, then holds it loosely in her left hand and looks at me. I don't seem to be in trouble after all. "What?" I ask again. "What are you thinking?" "Do you think it was a surprise to see me like that?" "I should certainly think so!" "What do you think he'd do if..." She can't bring herself to finish the question, but her mischievous eyes, their gaze directed towards the doorway, give it away. "You mean you want to go back out with nothing on at all?! Really?! Is that what you mean, Thia?" "Just as a joke! Not for any other reason -- just because it might be funny!" "Well he might need CPR, but sure. He's not exactly going to mind, you can be certain of that. Are you serious?" (Well this certainly isn't going as I anticipated!) She puts the swimsuit on the bed and returns naked to the door, placing her hand on the handle. "Really?" I ask. "Are you really going to? Just think about it for a moment first." Thia just looks at me and doesn't answer, processing the pros and cons. Her hand grasps the handle and she opens the door a tiny bit, then fully, but then gently closes it again and looks at me once more. "It's perfectly okay," I say. "Really. If you want to do it, just do it. Nobody's going to complain." She ponders. Perhaps it might look too much like teasing, or attention seeking, or like she thinks she's something special. Maybe it will embarrass Barry. Maybe she will regret it afterwards. Perhaps her motives might seem less than innocent. Perhaps her motives ARE less than innocent. Decisions, decisions. Time passes as Thia dithers. She's going! Oh, wait - she's not. She is! She's not. She is! Oh, she's not. After a little while, the moment is obviously lost... she's not. She wants to, but just can't bring herself to do it - not quite. I'm not sure whether to encourage her to do it or to respect her caution, but it doesn't happen. Ah well. He'll just have to make do with what he's already seen (which is definitely a lot more than he was expecting!). Thia declares that he's probably already forgotten about it and will be deciding where he'd like us to go tomorrow. Hmm... somehow I doubt that's actually the case. More likely, he's sitting there with his jaw on the floor and Thia's green-tinted personal parts etched into his retinas. She herself certainly remains very much "in the moment". So much so that (with Barry doubtless wondering why we have gone missing for so long), she gets it out of her system, quite quickly, on the bed. Thia! Perhaps her motives WERE a teeny bit less than entirely innocent after all. Eventually, we re-emerge from the bedroom (Thia having redressed and now looking a bit flushed) and during the subsequent conversation, I can see the possibility of reconsidering her decision lingers, but eventually the talking returns to the more usual topics and the chance has definitely gone. Months later, the subject of "Thia and The Swimsuit" is brought up, and the full tale is told at last, to Barry's great regret at the missed opportunity. Speculating somewhat vividly, he asks Thia if - having come so close to doing it of her own accord - she would have been willing to let him see her without the swimsuit if he had taken the chance to ask her directly. "Well... yes. Of course. Why not? I suppose I would have been quite flattered," she says. "Wouldn't you have found it too embarrassing?" he replies. Thia shakes her head, replying with a shrug, "No, not really. I don't really think about it like that. If James didn't mind then I would probably have done it if you really wanted me to." Barry continues, "So if I had simply said 'Could I please see you without it?' you would have taken it off?" "Well I'm not sure I would have taken it off in front of you as such, but as long as James definitely didn't mind, then yes. Why not?" she says, seeming almost bemused at the question. "But you felt self-conscious standing in front of me with it on..." Barry points out. "Yes, but that's different: more uncomfortable, more showy, more out of place, less natural." Thia logic - you never really get used to it. Barry (commenting on this tale): I well remember this incident, of course. Having known Thia for several years but never having seen her in anything more revealing than a t-shirt, the swimsuit did come as quite a surprise! Not least because it certainly was very revealing indeed, not that I was complaining! I was quite literally stunned. It seemed so out of character for her. To be suddenly looking at Thia's amazing body and her personal features in some detail, with such a thin disguise and from very close range was quite an eye opener and certainly changed the way I thought of her, which is a very good thing and long overdue. I felt really privileged to be allowed to see the real Thia like that - her body was absolutely stunning, even leaving aside the memorable transparency. I couldn't understand why she normally kept it so hidden. From then on, I often wondered if I would ever get to see her properly naked. I didn't realise all I had to do was ask! Oh, and she's not the only one who had to do something about it immediately afterwards!