“Aren’t either of you even getting in?” the otter cub grumped, standing toes-deep on the first step of the squeaky indoor-pool ladder. Holding onto the shiny metal handlebars, he’d thought his dad, at least, would join him in the water this time. “C’mon! Let’s swim!”
“I’ll watch, scamp. Show me how fast you can dive down to the other side!” his dad smiled, taking a magazine off of the stack he’d brought. “We did a lot of walking around today. I think we saw every tourist trap in Gatlinburg. I’d rather just read right now, okay?”
“But I thought… okay, fine. Mom?” the preteen otter asked, knowing the answer already.
“I told you I was going to just hang out by the pool, Tick,” his mom reminded him patiently, “we’re going to dinner later. I don’t want to do my hair all over again. You have fun in the pool. Look, you have it all to yourself!” she pointed.
The cub rolled his eyes as much as he could without his mom noticing. He’d rather just play with his dad in the pool than go to a fancy steakhouse on vacation. They’d probably make him wear a shirt with a collar, even. He stepped further down the slippery metal ladder, the cool blue water up to his knees. “Yeah, all by myself,” he muttered. “Okay! Then watch me dive!” he called, and hopped face-first into the water, arms extended over his head, splashing as he dove down to touch the pebbled pool bottom, leaving a trail of bubbles to the middle of the pool, dramatically emerging with a flourish of water.
“It’s really nice, not too cold, not too warm!” he announced, squinting his glasses-free eyes to clarify the parent-shaped otter blobs in red-and-white striped chaise lounges. It was hard to tell, but they both looked like they had books or magazines in front of their faces. “Hey! Did you see that dive? I made it all the way here!”
“Uh huh, good job, Tick, remember to keep your tail tucked,” his dad nodded, giving a thumbs-up in the boy’s direction, holding a Popular Science in the other paw.
The cub blinked and wrinkled his muzzle in annoyance. “Aw, forget it,” he whispered to himself, treading water, and sidestroked to the opposite edge of the pool, touching it with his feet and kicking off to propel himself downward, torpedoing through the cool deeper water, his sleek speed cheering him. Surfacing on the far end, the otter narrowed his eyes as he looked around the blurry room. He really did have the whole pool to himself, which was… kind of awesome, actually! A swish of his thick ruddertail, and he was slicing through the water again, leaving only a slim bubble-trail. Usually he’d have to dodge little girls with pink inflatable donuts or, much worse, bigger kids roughhousing in the deep end. But today he was a submarine, a missile, a battleship, cutting through the ripples and wriggling his tail in ripples to propel himself from one end to the other, sleek and streamlined.
But he could also curl and twist underwater, and he did, suddenly twirling a figure-eight, touching his tail as he curved downwards, pretzeling around to gulp air from the surface, then bending in half to dive straight downwards, feeling the slight pressure on his ears as he touched the bottom of the five-foot end and ended up surfacing just down the poolside from his parents. “This pool’s great!” he panted, wiping water from his eyes, paws gripping the pebbly edge.
“Mm hmmm, sure is,” his mom’s distracted voice agreed, lost in her Tony Robbins novel.
His toes on the thin bump of a ledge around the pool, the otter inched along, holding the poolside, figuring he’d try to walk along to the shallower end before diving down again. “It’s not super chlorine-y like the one in Pigeon Forge, mom, you might… gkaakkk!” the otter squeaked out, wriggling to the side. As he’d made his way along, right near his parents’ lounge chairs, the strong stream of a bubbling pool jet had hit him right in the belly.
“I might yack? That doesn’t sound like much fun,” his mom chuckled. “Glad I stayed dry!”
“No, it’s just… uh, nothing,” Tick muttered, wiggling his fingers in the jet of water, pushing his paw against it, feeling the water bubble and flow around his webbed paw. A small leaf floated by, and the cub tugged it by its stem to the water jet, letting go, and watching as the small boat sailed into the blue pool water, smiling.
A sudden curious thought struck him.
The otter looked around. Still empty, and the only door was in sight. No windows behind him, just a blue wall with a big orange supergraphic stripe. And his parents’ faces were covered by their reading material. Nobody was watching.
His eyes on his mom and dad, he crept back over to the side, letting the pool jet spray on his belly underwater, and with his elbows on the pool-edge, he gently tugged himself upwards until that strong jet was hitting him lower and… he gasped out as it tickled around the sheath tucked inside his swimtrunks.
“You okay there, scamp?”
“Oh y-yeah Dad, just resting!” he chirped quickly, and, once confident that his dad was still reading, he pushed his hips closer. The water bubbled over his boyhood, tickling and teasing, stronger and stronger as he pressed against the stream, and he could feel the tip of his penis nudging into the mesh insides of his trunks as it slipped out of its hiding place. He bit his tongue to keep from making any noise. Pulling away, the otter let his tail rise, floating upwards with his chin resting on his paws, trying to look as casual as he could. “It’s nice to relax after all that walking.”
Neither grownup said anything, just flipped pages. Watching them carefully, he floated his hips back downwards, pressing his tented trunks-front into the bubbling stream, licking his lips as it tickled around the tip, the boy as stiff as can be inside his shorts. The waterjet vibrated against his hard boyhood, pulsing a steady stream around it, and holding himself there, the cub nibbled his lip, feeling the good tingly sensations creeping through his tummy, the thrumming jet feeling better and better…
“What was your favorite thing today, kiddo?” his dad smiled, looking over the rim of his magazine.
Wide eyed, Tick made a hiccuping sound in surprise, making sure he was close against the poolside. There’s no way his dad could see anything, right? And he was just casually hanging out, like people do in the pool. Nothing weird about that! Just play it cool. “Uh, ummm… th-the Ripley’s Believe it o-or Not Museum. It was pretty neat. Super neat. Lots of neat.”
“It was neat, alright. I liked the Elephant Man’s bones. Do you think they were real?”
What was he talking about? “Hff… mm, n-no, the sign said they were a-a replica,” the cub squirmed, trying to wiggle to the side to direct the jet away from his sensitive, twitching penis, but he realized that’d just look weird, so he tried arching his tail to pull gently away, arms still crossed on the rim of the pool.
“Ew, it was so gross there!” his mom chimed in, lowering her novel. “Of COURSE you two would like it. Death masks? Animals in jars? Tick, I thought you liked the wax museum. That was MY favorite.”
The cub blinked up at his mom. “W-what? I hated that place, it’s so… aahh! B-boring…” he wriggled, his casual resting stance hard to maintain as he felt the vibration of the water jet increasing the more he shyly pressed himself against the poolside, the intense tickling too much to bear much longer.
“I’m with Tick!” his dad chimed in quickly. “I never understood the appeal. Madam Tussaud’s, more like… er… Madam To-so-dumb! Eh? Get it?” he gave his wife’s arm a poke, snickering. “But lunch was good. What was in that sandwich you had, kiddo? I’ll have to get that next time.”
Seriously, dad? “M-my sandwich? Uhh…” What’d he even eat for lunch? All he could think about was how good his dick felt and how it was so close to… “T-turkey, stuffing… hfff!… cranberry s-sauce and mayooo…ooh… ooohhh!!” the cub bit his paw, teeth clamped on his finger as his cocklet twitched underwater, the intense rush of his climax tingling through his tummy, tail swishing behind him. Jerking against the rushing jet of water, barely a drip of slippery juice milked out of the tip, and the cub’s excited whine was muffled by his paw as he finally wriggled away from the jet’s vibration, unable to take the intensity on his sensitive boybit any longer. “Hhhaa… aahh…”
“Wow, that DOES sound like a good sandwich, especially the way you describe it. Been awhile since I’ve had a tasty sandwich that’s had me so excited to remember it… ow!!” his dad grinned as his wife returned the shoulder-punch. “Hey, speaking of sandwiches, we should start getting ready for dinner. Why don’t you show me that dive again before we get you all dried off?”
Gripping the concrete edge, the cub’s ears a deep pink inside, Tick looked up at his dad, propping his feet on the slippery tile underwater. “Ri-rght now?” His head still felt all dizzy and his tummy buzzed, and he could feel his half-stiff penis against the inside of his trunks, making him grit his teeth as it shrank and relaxed.
“Oh, Gavin, give the kid a moment,” his mom giggled, covering her muzzle with a paw, stifling a laugh as best she could.
His dad got up to leave, gathering his magazines, a little smirk on his face. “Well, your mom and I should start getting dressed, anyhow. You want to join us in a bit, once you’re done and dried? I’ll have your clothes all laid out.” As he strolled out, Tick’s mom took her sunglasses off and leaned down to whisper, “The one in the deep end’s stronger,” and winked at him before walking away, tail swishing, leaving Tick to reassemble the weirdest mental image he’d ever had.
