Page 5 of The Pool Boy


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This clearly isn’t working. I’m never going to get any work done on this if just looking at the plans makes me think about him. Anger at my body and brain rises up—I mean it was good, but was it really that good? It hasn’t been so long since I’ve had actual and good sex that I need to sit here and crave it. It was good. Fine, great. But I can move on. There are more important things than my sex life.

I get into bed and flip off my light, forcing myself to relax, to sleep. I’m starting to drift off when the memory of him finishing on me floods my mind, hard and strong. I groan into my pillow. Fine. It was amazing. It was—no pun intended—fucking amazing. I can admit that, and I still have to say no to sleeping with him again.

But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and he never has to know just how hot and bothered he makes me.

I slide my hand inside my underwear and I’m already so wet that my fingers slip across my clit. I brush my other hand across my breasts, remembering how he pulled me against him using only my nipples. My hips jerk against my hand as I dip my fingers inside myself. I can see his face filled with lust, feel his body hovering over mine, and imagine that his fingers are inside of me instead of my own. The feeling of his cock plunging inside me comes back, vividly. My thumb circles my clit as I remember him stretching me out and filling me up over and over.

I move my fingers faster and I’m grinding against my hand as the pleasure of this moment and my memories combine. There’s an orgasm rising inside me, and my first instinct is to slow down. I want to let it pour over me slowly, savoring every second. But I know with a deep certainty that if James were here he wouldn’t stop. James would not stop if he were fucking me, relentlessly, until I come. Once again I imagine it’s his hand, and he doesn’t give me a break. I can feel his lips at my ear, whispering the dirty things he’s going to do once I finish. My fingers are moving faster and deeper and I’m breathless, hovering on the edge of pleasure.

I imagine his lips running along my skin—down my throat and along my breasts. My thumb slides across my clit, and I imagine it’s his. He tells me to come, demands it, and I do. My hips arch off the bed and the pleasure rolls from my pussy up my body and through my breasts. I tease myself a moment longer, trying to make the feeling last.

Pulling my hand away from myself I stare at the ceiling. He’s here for an entire week. How am I supposed to make it through six more days, knowing what’s under those clothes? Knowing exactly how he can make me feel?

Seeing him tomorrow is going to be torture.

6

James

I drop onto my couch, utterly exhausted. I’m dirty and need a shower, but I don’t think I can move right now. I probably shouldn’t have stayed at the construction site as late as I did, but every bit I can do on the Mastersons’s house is a little bit less we’re behind next week. I know better than anyone that the faster a house like this is finished, the better. The Mastersons need this house, and they need it now.

The fact that I had to delay construction at all doesn’t sit well in my gut, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice. Mike was in a desperate situation, and I’m too familiar with desperate situations to not help. Besides, if I hadn’t delayed or taken the job I wouldn’t have met Vera.

Vera Caldwell.

Just thinking about her name makes my cock stir in my pants. I can’t remember a time when I’ve had such a visceral reaction to someone. And being inside her…god. The decision to fuck her was probably stupid as all hell, but I can’t say that I regret it. Everything about being with her was better than I had imagined or expected.

I get up and head to the bathroom, stripping out of my clothes on the way. The shower is hot, and I force myself to wait until I’m under the stream before I let the memory flood me. I wrap my fingers around myself and squeeze, starting off with slow strokes as the images pour through my brain. Watching her lick my cock, seeing her dare to put her mouth on my balls, feeling her ass bounce against me as I fucked her into the window. My cock is rock hard in my hand and I let the memory play out as I increase my speed. In my mind’s eye I watch her eat hot cum off my fingers as I stroke myself to the finish. My balls tighten, drawing pleasure up from my toes and I can’t stop myself from groaning as I climax over my hand. I’m glad that I live alone.

I lean against the wall of the shower, spent again, but it’s not enough. I want her again, and not just sexually. She’s intriguing, and I want to get to know her. All of her. I want to put my tongue inside her and fuck her senseless, and then ask her all the get-to-know-you questions. I want to spend some time with her in a place where I’m not wearing a uniform. No matter what I think about, I’m filled with a consuming desire to be near her.

I shake my head to clear it, turning off the shower. Things like this don’t happen. No one can make a connection that fast—not one that’s real. But still, I remember that moment when I turned and saw her. She was ready to spit fire at me and I didn’t care because something reached inside me and pulled.

I grab my phone and check the time. Ten-thirty. I wonder what she’s doing right now.

More to the point, I wonder if she’s thinking about me. If she’s touched herself wishing I was there instead of her fingers. My cock likes that thought too much, and I feel myself hardening again. It’s like my body is insatiable when it comes to her. I pull on some clothes, trying to ignore the instinct to fall into my memories again.

My phone chimes with an incoming text, and I try to ignore the pang of disappointment when it’s not from Vera. Which is ridiculous, since she doesn’t even have my number. No, the text is from Mike:

Was the job okay today?

Was it okay? Okay is a fucking understatement. I type out my response:

It was great. I’m going to pummel you the next time I see you for not warning me how hot Vera was.

I see the little bubbles pop up and down as he types:

I did warn you.

I laugh before replying:

Not enough. How’s your dad holding up?

Good. We go in the morning for the surgery. Should have a clearer picture of how things look tomorrow night.

Mike’s father has heart pro

blems, and last week he went into cardiac arrest. I guess what the problem is can be fixed surgically, or at least they hope. That’s the reason I took the job at the Caldwells’s in the first place. I try not to take landscaping or caretaker jobs during my construction contracts, but this couldn’t be helped. Mike didn’t want to lose his spot working their property—they’re generous with their employees—so I agreed to fill in for him.

Tell him hello for me, and keep me posted.

Again the bouncing text bubbles.

Will do. And thanks again for doing this.

No problem.

Another wave of tiredness washes over me, and I set my alarm before falling into bed. I need to sleep if I’m going to keep this schedule all week. Of course, the man in me is saying I need sleep so I can have as much energy as possible for Vera. I laugh as I turn out the light. She’s certainly a contradiction: a rich and spoiled heiress who works in her own garden and wants to do humanitarian work. She’s brazen as hell but I also think she might be hiding something. And I’m going to find out what that is.

In my mind’s eye I see her spread out in front of me, back arching as I taste her neck. She tastes amazing. My mind spins outward, imagining the things I could do to her if she was in my bed. I would plunge myself deep inside her, not letting her come until she begged. I would take her ass for the first time, listening to her moan as she felt me claim something no one else had ever touched.

My cock is in my hand again, and I’m squeezing it, stroking it. I imagine the silk tightness of being buried in her ass. I hear the sounds she’ll make as she asks me to fuck her harder, and harder, and I imagine the sensation of coming deep inside her. I can see it leaking out slowly. My body tightens, and I’m so close again. My hips are straining off the mattress. My imagination isn’t done with me yet as I see her use her mouth on me, sucking my cock clean. I groan as I fall into the white-hot brightness of my orgasm. Pleasure shoots through me from my balls to my brain, and I keep stroking myself as the grip of the orgasm fades. I savor it until it’s completely gone.

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