Letters to Audrine

13- Truth Serum

There have been a few times during my stay in France where I would spend a while trying to decide on what I should wear. But none of those times compare to the amount of time that it takes me to decide on what bathing suit I want to wear to the pool with Silas.

I only have four options, and yet I spend almost an hour staring at them, making a decision, putting it on, and then changing my mind.

Each bathing suit has a different level of how revealing it is, from a one-piece to a slightly skimpy bikini. I don't usually pay attention to my bathing suit choice and will just grab whichever one is dry, but today with Silas, I feel like my bathing suit says so much more about how I want today to go. Maybe I'm just overthinking it-- which I do a lot-- but I can't make up my mind.

I don't want to wear my one-piece, because I don't want him to think that I'm closing myself off to him. The next covered up is a bikini, but the bottoms are high waisted and it's still pretty conservative. The other two are both classic bikinis, one has more coverage on the butt with more cleavage, and the other one is the opposite with a little more buttcheek than I'm comfortable with in any situation, but less boob.

It takes me a while to think about, and I even try it on once to take pictures of what my butt looks like in the most revealing one, but I decide to toss it for today. It's not really thong-level of revealing, but it's just a lot of cheek and I don't want to show it off that much. Even when I'm at the pool by myself, I feel like I'm mooning the other people at the pool.

I want to choose the bikini that I think makes me look the most attractive, but I think I look pretty good in both bathing suits. It's ridiculous how long this is taking me, but I've convinced myself that whichever bathing suit I wear will give him an idea of what I want from him. Like if I show too much skin, he'll suddenly want to fuck me on the daybed. As if Silas will even care what my bathing suit looks like-- I definitely care way more than he ever will and I doubt it'll make a difference once he gets here.

When Silas texts me that he's on his way, I know that I need to make a decision now so that I can finish getting ready before he gets here.

Feeling stupid for stressing over something to stupid, I just grab the low rise bikini. It's a light blue with pink flowers, and it matches my dusty pink swim cover. Putting it on, I'm happy that my butt is covered and it makes my boobs look nice. I feel good.

I'm sliding flip flops onto my feet when there's three loud knocks on the hotel door.

Silas is waiting for me on the other side, wearing checkered board shorts and a white t-shirt. He smiles at me when I open the door and says, "Salut, ma belle," he greets me.

"Hi," I smile at him, loving that nickname. "I just have to grab my bag."

I do so, grabbing my big bag from my bed that contains a few pool towels, sunscreen, sunglasses, and snacks. I also take my insulated ice water with me, as it gets really hot, and then I'm ready to go downstairs.

"I don't know if this is allowed, but I brought beer," Silas says as he motions toward a small cooler that is hanging over one of his shoulders.

"I think it's allowed," I assure him. I've seen people at the pool drinking from cans and bottles before. I'm not sure if that's against the rules and nobody stops them, or if it really is just allowed. Either way, I'm sure it'll be fine.

"You can have some, if you want. I tried to get a lighter beer, and I think you might like it," he offers me. Downstairs, there are only three other people at the pool. They look like a family, an older woman with two younger kids that look to be about seven or eight. The mom is sitting on one of the daybeds while the two kids are playing around in the shallow end.