Splash!

I always knew I was different; whilst most little girls loved the
security of their bed and an array of cuddly toys to keep them company,
I was in my element in the bath.
I loved to lie wallowing in the hot water with yellow ducks bobbing
around me, my vision clouded by steam as I noted the changing
demarcation between red and pink flesh and, as the water slowly cooled
to bearable proportions, I would slide my whole body beneath the
surface and become a Water Baby. I loved seals and swimming and old
episodes of "Stingray" featuring the beautiful but speechless Marina in
her underwater world, then "The Little Mermaid" and the wildlife films
about coral reefs, which disappointed everyone else who'd hoped to see
lions and tigers mauling things instead of boring old fish.

I wanted to be an underwater photographer or something impractical like
a dolphin trainer, but I ended up in nursing. No watery jinks there,
you'd think - but you'd be wrong! On the psychiatric placement I got a
male ward and was nursing a sad crowd of long-stayers urgently in need
of entertaining therapy. So, on my final day, the charge nurse and his
assistant, after checking that no senior hospital meddlers were in the
area, tied me to a chair and put me fully-clothed in the shower.
Harassment of the highest order, of course, compounded by assault -
except that it was supposed to somehow benefit the patients, and they
did it to all the female general nurses on placement. But, as the tepid
water seeped through my uniform and I shouted and struggled to order, I
found myself experiencing an orgasm, my best so far, so I didn't
complain too much.

This disturbed me, as I thought I'd somehow developed a bondage fetish
until the truth hit me a few weeks later as I was wandering by the
canal basin. A group of lads had just hired a barge and one of them was
negotiating his way along the narrow walkway on the side of the boat
when he slipped and fell into the water; this was tremendous
entertainment for the local strollers and his boozy shipmates, but as a
nurse my first thought was to prevent him from drowning and ensure that
he was uninjured - except that my stomach lurched, my body arched and
my legs gave way and I had to cling to a lamp post until my composure
returned. This was quite a relief, as I'd feared that I was destined to
spend my life tied to chairs, at the mercy of sleazy men. Water, on the
other hand, was a lover I could cope with, and control.

Actually, I've now reached thirty and never really had a proper
boyfriend. I've been asked out, and gone out socially with one or two
guys, but when the sloppy stuff starts I'm out of there. I mean, as a
nurse I see diseased bodies oozing fluids on a daily basis, so why
should I want to be groped by sweaty paws or invaded by dirty liquids
when I can be caressed all over by clear, pure water any time I choose?
I've found that the greatest turn-on for me is to see people fall into
water; not little kids or old people, of course, but young adults,
especially men - it's like they're suddenly plunged into my world and I
make that brief and tumultuous contact ? I feel their shock and maybe
they feel my thrill, although they're usually none too happy about it,
unless it's a very warm day at the marina.

So here I am, thirtieth birthday and Janice, my flatmate from ward 17,
has arranged a blind date. I'm not too happy at first, I don't know
what kind of weirdo she'll come up with, not that I'm exactly normal
myself. But she says that it's not that kind of blind date, it's this
kind, and wraps a scarf around my head to cover my eyes. Then she leads
me through the front door into the street and into her little
car.
Although I still don't have a boyfriend as such I'm not short of
friends, some from the hospital and some from the Internet site, and
quite a few of them are boys. One or two have turned out to be after
what they can get - they went away disappointed - and a few have been
freaked out when they've got to really know me, but mostly they accept
me for what I am. My best male friend is Simon, and he usually comes
round once a week when Janice is on lates. I make him a coffee and I
get the bath two-thirds full of lukewarm water and then when it's ready
he lies straddled across the bath, holding on to the taps with his
hands. Then I start to tickle him, and he tries to hold on as long as
he can but in the end he has to let go and falls in with a lovely great
splash. I go and phone for a pizza or Indian whilst he changes into the
spare clothes he's brought and we watch a film until it's time for him
to go home, though never "Titanic" or the sharky ones that turn me on,
that would be disrespectful to Simon after putting himself out for me.
I think if I were a bit different Simon might be the kind of guy I'd
marry, but there's that womanly bit in me that looks down on a guy
who's sweet and kind and gentle and gives that little bit too much, and
there's the real perversion.

Janice's car buzzes around town for five minutes and stops. She guides
me out, still blindfolded, and through some doors which I can feel are
made of glass. We're in a warm building and the air is damp. Through
another set of doors, where it becomes wetter still and whispers and
giggles rebound across what must be a large high-ceilinged hall. I
think I know where I am now. Janice removes my blindfold and there are
my friends, over twenty of them from the hospital and the chatroom and
even a couple of old schoolfriends I haven't seen for ages.

"Happy Birthday Lisa" they yell and begin to push each other into the
pool fully dressed and I can feel the rush begin and despite the
pounding of my blood and my jerky legs I manage to walk down to the
deep end where Janice and Simon are teetering on the edge and smiling
invitingly. I put a hand on their backs and give them a firm push but
they grab me as they fall and all three of us go under and I'm warmly
embraced and completely enveloped by the clean clear water and my
drowning universe explodes.

It's my best birthday ever.