Floatation Devices

I wasn’t really paying attention until GWE stated, “It’s 10 lessons, 20 minutes a lesson, and they need Justin to attend the classes consecutively.” What?!?!? What could possibly require that much commitment for such as short, intense period of time?? Swimming lessons for Justin!! He was about the meet “The Water Whisperer.”

Just to be clear – this post is not about what happened to Justin in Swim Class. (That will come later.) This is actually about why I elected to take Justin to a majority of the classes myself. Of course, I’m concerned about the health and welfare of my son and obviously, I want Justin to know how to be safe in and around a pool. But, that’s not why I demanded to escort him to almost every single lesson. I took him to class – for the boobies!

Let me explain – GWE and I took Justin to his first two sessions together on a Saturday and Sunday. The pool was located in the backyard of someone’s home and there were a number of private lessons happening simultaneously. Parents were not allowed into the pool unless the child was less than 3 years of age (as I found out.) So, the parents ended up either sitting on plastic patio chairs around the pool or a wooden bench that stretched along the fence. Many of the parents were frumpy, frazzled men and women. Not one of these people looked attractive in clothes and I cannot image that they would have looked any better in bathing suits.

However, Monday rolled around and I elected to take Justin to swim class by myself because GWE was stuck on the other side of the hill. We arrived at the house, followed the cement wall around to the back of the house, opened the gate to the pool – and it was titty-tastic! The heavens opened…the sun came shining through…the air smelled sweeter and I thought I heard a faint chorus of angels singing. It was like we had just arrived at the Hard Rock Pool in Vegas!

There were young women everywhere wearing (shockingly) revealing swimwear and flaunting their perfect (plastic surgeon approved) “pointer sisters.” There was a beautiful mother in the pool wearing a white bikini top. She was slowly bouncing up and down while trying to entice her kid to swim over to her. There was another woman who was wearing a black bathing suit with a plunging neckline that practically went down to her knees and as she turned I realized that the back was just a thong. Another gorgeous woman was apparently very comfortable with her body, because she didn’t even bother using the changing room. She simply took off her top with one hand, covered her “flesh bulbs” with the other, and then slipped into a t-shirt – all in one graceful move. I kept looking around for a grotto! And the best part was – there were new, even more beautiful women coming in every 10 minutes for their kids’ lessons.

And, I’m pretty sure Justin was aware of what was going on too. It’s no coincidence that he went from splashing and crying “mommydaddymommydaddymommydaddy” in the first two classes to all of a sudden swimming like Michael Phelps as soon as he saw the “Hotty Mommies” parading around.

Just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, I took Justin back the following evening. Once again, it was like a “Miss Hawaiian Tropic” contest. It then dawned on me – as a Talent Manager – that these were unemployed actresses!! Who else in Los Angeles is THAT attractive, THAT “enhanced”, and THAT available in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday?? ACTRESSES!!

After class, I took Justin home and told GWE about what we had seen. She looked at me skeptically. After all, she had been to the first two classes and no one she saw was even remotely attractive. Luckily, she was schedule to attend a weeknight class with us!

Together, GWE, Justin, and I walked into the pool area on a Thursday evening. As if on cue, a woman was just getting out of the pool right in front of us. She had breasts like balloons and was wearing a bikini that concealed nothing. She had a rockin’ body. However, there was one issue – she was a “Butter Face.” (If you don’t know the term, it’s when someone’s face does not match their body. Here’s how it’s used: “Wow! She’s hot. ‘But her’ face….”) Either way, it didn’t matter – GWE had now witnessed some of the “Heavenly Hooters” I was telling her about. All in all, I attended 9 of the 10 classes.

I’ve also learned something else about myself as a guy. As long as boobies are involved, I’m pretty sure I can commit to anything…for 10 days.

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