Leanne the Lusty Lifeguard

"Jane may be a tomboy, but she looks good in a dress," said Merv as he reversed out of his parking space and drove through the car park. "You know the funny thing about girls? When they act like tomboys, it's okay. Like Andrea, when she was a kid she would put on her rugby jumper, take her brothers' football and run around the garden pretending she was scoring tries for the Bears. It was cute, and she actually had good skills. But if the boys had played with Andrea's dolls, that would not have been okay. Your cousins would have been going to military school the next day, that's for bloody sure."

"Uncle Merv, there aren't military schools in Australia," said Greg. "Only in America."

"I would have taken out a second mortgage on the house to send them to America," said Merv. "You can't let your boys act like Nancy-boys. That's good advice, if your dreams come true and you marry Morgan and have kids together. You let your boy act like a sissy growing up and what do you end up with? A poofter."

"I don't think that's how it happens," said Greg.

"It is most definitely how it happens," asserted Merv. "The way we're going, we'll have three sexes in Australia -- blokes, sheilas and poofters. Sydney is getting over-run with poofters these days -- here a poof, there a poof, everywhere a poof-poof. Hey, talking about poofs, I've got a brain-teaser for you. If Bloke A has Bloke B down on the ground, and he's rooting him, who's the poofter? Bloke A? Bloke B? Or C -- both A and B?"

Reluctantly, Greg offered. "C -- both A and B?"

"Wrong," Uncle Merv proclaimed. "Bloke B is the poofter, because he's letting Bloke A root him and he's not doing anything about it. A real Aussie bloke would never let that happen. The government should round up all the poofs, put them on a space shuttle and send them to Uranus where they belong." Merv stopped at a red light, lit up a cigarette and appeared to change the subject. "Did you hear about the bushfire in the hills outside Adelaide today?"

Greg thought his uncle was serious. "No, what happened?"

"It was a pretty big fire," said Merv. "Only one person killed though, a poofter. You know what his name was? Quentin Crisped!"

Merv convulsed with laughter, choking on his cigarette as he drove through the green light and home. Merv went with friends to see the last day of play at the cricket on the Saturday, but Greg politely declined his uncle's invitation to join him, not wanting to sit with Merv and his mates as they made jokes about homosexuals and leered at passing girls young enough to be their daughters all day.

*

Greg was out early on Sunday morning, in the car that he shared with his cousin Andrea and over the Harbour Bridge into the city. His skinny frame was dressed for running, in a singlet, shorts and sneakers. Greg had never been particularly good at sports, but could run well enough and Sydney was full of scenic spots to run.

Greg parked the car near Circular Quay, and began his run. He had two reasons for choosing this destination. First it was hard to find a better place to run scenery wise; the beautiful parkland, the city skyline, the magnificent Sydney Harbour filled with yachts, power boats and ferries heading out to Manly and the Zoo, the bridge itself and of course the iconic Opera House.

The second reason was that Greg was absolutely terrified of the thought of driving across the Harbour Bridge and its busy traffic on weekdays, but could try to convince himself he wasn't afraid by driving across it by doing so on Sundays. Other times, he would make some excuse so that Uncle Merv, Aunty Rose, Andrea or a friend drove into the city. Greg was equally afraid that Uncle Merv would find out that he was afraid of the Harbour Bridge and would tease him about it, but it was okay for him. Uncle Merv had grown up in Sydney, seen the bridge open in person as a boy during the Great Depression and had driven over it thousands of times.

Greg was running up the steps directly in front of the Opera House when he heard a familiar voice, "Hi there Greg."

Greg turned and saw the tall, beautiful figure of Leanne running up the stairs towards him with a friendly wave and big smile on her pretty face. She wore a pink top that accentuated her big boobs, short pink shorts that showed off her long legs and white sneakers and socks on her feet, her hair kept back from her face with a pink headband.

"Oh hi Leanne," said Greg, surprised to see the blonde beauty there.

"Are you enjoying your run this morning?" Leanne asked as she stopped, running on the spot. "It's a beautiful morning today."

"Yeah, I always enjoy running," said Greg, drawing in big breaths.

"So do we," said Leanne. "Where did you run from this morning?"

"Oh, not too far, I parked over near Circular Quay. How about you?"

"Over at Bondi Beach. We ran down along the coast."

Greg's eyes went wide. "Bondi? That's miles from here." The young man was impressed. It was like Leanne had ran less than a mile. But she was much, much fitter than he was.

"It's a beautiful run around the Harbour through all the posh suburbs where I'd never be able to afford a house in a million years," said Leanne. "Derek and I love it, it's one of our favorites. You should try it some time."

"I don't think I could run half that far," said Greg modestly.

"I don't know, from what I could see of you running you've got a pretty good technique. I've seen you swimming in your lunch break at work sometimes, and you're not bad at that either. Have you considered training for triathlon?"

Greg blushed. "There's no way I'd ever be fit enough to do a triathlon."

"Don't sell yourself short, Greg," said Leanne. "Think it through. Derek and I have been doing triathlons for years, and I'd be happy to help you with your training."

"Okay Leanne thanks, I'll think it through," said Greg.

Leanne looked up at the Opera House, where the tall, muscular Adonis-like figure of Derek had emerged from the men's room, and she gave him a wave before turning to Greg and laughing. "Derek learned the hard way why you shouldn't gulp down too much water before exercise, he's been running with crossed knees all the way from Rose Bay. Well, I'd better be going. Derek and I are going to race each other to the Bridge before we head back to Bondi. See you tomorrow at work, Greg."

"Yes, I'll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your run."

Greg looked as Leanne ran up the steps towards the Opera House to join Derek, the super-fit pair turning and making haste for Circular Quay and the Harbor Bridge. Leanne turned to give Greg a friendly wave, and the young man returned the gesture but felt a surge of nerves when Derek looked at him as he did so. He hoped that Derek wasn't the jealous type of boyfriend, as the young man was so fit and tall that he could quite easily pull Greg up onto one of the Opera House's ornate roof structures and hang him from the edge by his undies. Or he could drag Greg all the way to the Harbor Bridge and chuck him off at the highest point, with one of the sharks that called Sydney Harbor home finishing the job. Then Greg's fear of the bridge would have proven to be very sound.

Fortunately however, Derek did not seem bothered and continued running with Leanne. Continuing his own run, Greg felt pleased with himself. Finally, he had had a normal conversation with a pretty girl and had not gotten himself tongue-tied. And Morgan had given him a smile and friendly wave when leaving work on Friday. Perhaps next week, Greg could drive to the petrol station where Jane worked and for once talk normally to the pretty tomboy as she filled up the car? Things were looking up, and he looked forward to work the next day.

*

To Greg's disappointment, Monday proved a flop. Morgan failed to appear for work and at opening time, Greg was joined by Rob to handle the cashier's role, Rob saying "Morgan's sick today." Rob was one of the most boring people around, and he and Greg just exchanged about five words in all the time they worked together serving customers. Leanne was run off her feet with new swimming lessons starting up so he didn't have a chance to talk to her either.

Greg always worried about Morgan when she was away sick, his imagination conjuring up all sorts of serious things that could be wrong with her. Early in December, Morgan had come down with a severe summer cold and been off sick three days, but during her absence Greg had obviously not known what was wrong with her, and worried that she might have cancer or some other life-threatening illness, even though he knew it was ridiculous even as he thought it.

Greg was a caring person by nature, and he especially cared for Morgan. A few months earlier, Morgan had received a telephone call at work to tell her that her younger brother had been badly injured playing cricket at school. Morgan had immediately broken down in tears, but before Greg could comfort her Leanne had seen what was happening and escorted Morgan into the office, sitting her down with a box of tissues while she cried, then driving her home. Greg hated seeing Morgan crying and longed to protect her from harm, therefore his concern for her being sick this Monday.

Fortunately for Greg, Morgan was back at work on Tuesday, the young man feeling immense relief as he saw the petite redhead talking with the much taller blonde Leanne. "I am so sorry about yesterday," said Morgan. "I know how busy things must have been."

"Don't feel bad Morgan, it can't be helped," Leanne assured the younger girl. "You sounded pretty sick when you called in."

"Yeah, it wasn't so good yesterday spending all day running for the loo or lying down with a bucket close handy," said Morgan. "Fortunately, it was only one of those 24 hour things."

"Well take it easy today, and let me know if you feel sick again," said Leanne.

"I will, thanks Leanne," said Morgan.

Tuesday went well for Greg. He was nice to Morgan, she was nice back to him and he managed to avoid saying or doing anything stupid. Wednesday was the much the same and looked to be another good day, when things took an interesting turn when the morning rush cleared and Leanne approached Greg and Morgan looking stunning in her red bathers, boring Rob behind her.

"Greg, Morgan I have a bit of an interesting assignment for you," said Leanne. "Have you both brought your bathers and towel today?"

"I have," said Greg.

"Me too," said Morgan, who like Greg often enjoyed a swim in her break on warm days like today.

"Good, I'm giving a group of kids a talk about water safety and I was hoping you could both help me," said Leanne. "I'd like you to demonstrate things not to do, like running at the pool edge or acting stupid around water. Rob said he would cover reception. Are you in?"

"I'm in," said Greg.

"Me too, it sounds like fun," said Morgan.

"Thanks, I'll see you at the main pool in about five minutes then," said Leanne.

Greg changed into his bathers and it took an almighty effort not to get an erection as Morgan emerged from the ladies' change room barefoot and wearing her green bikini. Greg made sure he looked at the sky rather than at Morgan's hot teenage arse as she walked to the pool where Leanne stood with a captive audience of kids.

"Kids, I'd like you to meet my assistants for today, Morgan and Greg," Leanne said. "Now, I'm sure you can tell me some of the things you should do around water, but what are some things you shouldn't do near the pool?"

"Run?" asked one boy.

"Correct, very good. Now what would happen if Greg and Morgan ran by the pool?" Leanne prompted Greg and Morgan, and the teenagers ran back and forward at the pool edge.

"They could fall in?" a girl suggested.

"Yes, they could fall in like Greg," said Leanne. At his cue, Greg fell into the swimming pool, and the kids all laughed.

"Now, it is funny at the moment because Greg is okay, he just looks silly," said Leanne. "But it wouldn't be funny if Greg hit his head on the way in because he would be in danger of drowning."

Greg climbed out of the pool and Leanne asked her audience. "What's another thing you should never do around water?"

"Mess around?" suggested another boy.

"Yes, mess around," said Leanne. Greg and Morgan pushed at each other like they were play-fighting at the water's edge, and Leanne continued. "As you can see, like with running one or both of them could fall in and hit their heads."

Morgan jumped into the water and pretended like she was drowning for Leanne's next demonstration. "Now, Morgan is drowning and Greg sees her. Greg wants to be a big hero and save Morgan. And that's very good, but what shouldn't Greg do?"

The kids appeared unsure, and Leanne said, "He shouldn't jump in because Morgan is panicking. And because Morgan is so scared, she's not thinking straight and she's going to push him under, like this."

Greg jumped in, swam up to Morgan and the girl pushed him under before releasing him, Greg resurfacing and he and Morgan looked at Leanne as the blonde continued her lecture. "Now, what should Greg have done? He should have grabbed something like a towel and held it out to Morgan like this." Leanne took the towel and held it out to Morgan with Morgan grabbing it. "And kids remember call a grown up if you can't help the person in trouble. Don't put yourself in danger as well."

Leanne looked at her audience again. "Now, has anyone heard the story of the boy who cried wolf?" A few hands went up, and Leanne continued. "In that story, a boy kept telling people that there was a wolf around, but there was no wolf when the people came, he made it all up. Then one day, there really was a wolf and nobody believed him. The lesson is that if you make things up, one day people won't believe you when there really is a problem. The same thing applies to water safety. Let's say Greg is in trouble in the water."

At his prompt, Greg began thrashing about making it look like he was in danger of drowning, and Leanne said, "Morgan can see Greg acting like that, but just say Greg played a joke on Morgan a few weeks ago by pretending to be drowning, and he played the same joke on her last week. This time, Morgan will think Greg is playing around acting the fool when he could actually be in danger. How is Morgan to know if Greg is playing another joke on her, or if he is drowning? So the moral of the story is never, ever pretend to be drowning or in trouble in the water as a prank."

Leanne went through a few other aspects of water safety, and the kids seemed to enjoy the demonstration, clapping Leanne, Greg and Morgan in appreciation. The kids dispersed, and Morgan swam towards the pool edge, climbing up the ladder. Greg remained in the water, which became a necessity as his eyes took in Morgan's slim, barefoot figure in wet green bathers that clung to her perfectly shaped breasts and bottom.

Greg's problem only got worse as Leanne walked over on her bare feet, squatting down near his head with her knees parted. Her wet bathers clung to her female area between her legs, and Greg could clearly make out the shape of Leanne's vagina. Despite being fully immersed in cool water, Greg's hard-on got harder and harder by the second at this.

"I was going to buy you and Morgan a drink each to thank you," said Leanne. "Hop out of the water, and come over to the canteen with me."

"Um I -- was -- ah -- just," Greg's mind raced trying to think up a convincing excuse before he managed to stammer, "I was thinking about triathlon training like you said the other day."

"That's really good, how about we talk about during the lunch break?"

Greg was deliberately looking away from the outline of Leanne's pussy in her bathers, but his erection did not recede as the image was firmly entrenched in his mind's eye. "How about we have a race up the pool and back?"

"A race?" Leanne looked puzzled.

"Yes, so I can see how much I need to work on my swimming."

Leanne's naturally competitive streak kicked in. "Okay then, you're on." The tall, fit girl performed a perfect dive into the water and easily trounced Greg with her perfect technique. She had swum the entire length of the Olympic sized swimming pool and back before Greg had even reached the end once. However, the swimming had reduced his erection back to normal size and he was now able to climb out of the pool without embarrassment.

"I think working on your swimming would be a good start," Leanne suggested, the pretty blonde having long gotten out of the water with not a hint of breathlessness, very different from Greg who was gasping for air and could only nod.

The rest of Wednesday went well. The arrogant rugby league player Wayne was there in the afternoon but behaved himself without his stupid mates and Morgan was in a pretty buoyant mood. When the end of the day came, Greg saw Morgan leaving to catch her bus and although nervous, decided that he would take his chance, walk with her to the bus stop and talk with her while they waited. He wasn't sure if he would actually ask her out today, but would see how things went.

However, as Greg stepped outside of the pool complex Morgan was nowhere to be seen walking to the bus stop. She wasn't walking to the bus stop as usual. Maybe Morgan's parents or sister had collected her? And while Morgan did have a driver's license, she rarely drove to work but perhaps she had done so today? Greg felt a little disappointed, but reasoned he would have plenty more chances to talk to her in coming days.

*

On Thursday, it was Greg's turn with the car, and he began his day with a run at one of his other favorite places in Sydney -- Manly beach. It wasn't too far to drive, didn't involve Greg crossing the much-feared Sydney Harbour Bridge on a weekday and he was able to shower at work when he finished.

Greg loved the trendy beachside suburb, and as he jogged along the scenic beach past the towering Norfolk Island Pines, he felt nothing could make this beautiful morning any better. Then he saw the one person who could make any day better and she was walking towards him this moment, the early morning sunlight reflecting from her red hair, her petite figure looking great in the simple clothes of a tee-shirt, shorts and white sneakers.

His heart aflutter as always when Morgan was about, Greg wondered what Morgan was doing here this morning. He had never seen her at Manly before, but he wasn't complaining especially when Morgan saw him and a brilliant smile filled her pretty face.

"Hi Greg," she said, giving him a friendly wave.

"Hi Morgan," said Greg, the young man hoping Morgan would be impressed by his running prowess. "It's beautiful at the beach this morning, isn't it?"

Morgan nodded in agreement. "It sure is, I came down here early with my ..."

The pretty little redhead never completed her sentence, because at that moment there came a loud roaring and from behind one of the pine trees emerged a muscular male figure clad in a vest and football shorts. He ran at Morgan with speed, still roaring, grabbing her from behind and pulling her backwards, to which Morgan squealed.

Adrenaline surged through Greg's veins. Morgan was being attacked, abducted, dragged away in front of him and it was up to Greg to save the day and rescue her. His right hand clenched in a fist and he ran forwards to save the damsel in distress when he stopped short as Morgan squealed again. Morgan's squeals were not of a girl in distress, but more of a girl in delight and as the muscular male released her she turned around to face him and they exchanged a kiss on the lips, Morgan putting her arms around him, the young man's hands likewise all over Morgan, mainly her bottom.

The confused Greg, blinking in the early morning sunlight only now recognized the young man currently locking lips with Morgan and horror filled every cell in his body. It was Wayne Waterson, the arrogant, ignorant and immature rugby player who was anything but popular at the swimming pool thanks to the stupid antics of him and his mates. What was he doing making out with Morgan, the girl of Greg's dreams? Greg observed Wayne playing with the elastic of Morgan's knickers through her shorts and could not believe what he was seeing. It was all a bad dream, Greg reasoned. That was it, he would wake up any moment now and everything would be okay.