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It was almost September in southern California, so they still wore shorts and tank tops. Rick had turned eighteen July 3rd - I hoped him arriving a day before the celebrations wasn't a sign he always came too soon - but I had needed to wait until the start of August for Garry to reach the same milestone. It never even crossed my mind I should try Rick first. It had always been both together or none at all.
As they strolled by on the sidewalk, all long legs and wide chests and flat bellies I straightened up, pretending to ease my back though I had no need to because of all the pilates. They raised their hands and grinned.
"Hi, Mrs Honeycoat."
I waved back, cutters in hand. "Hi boys. Hot one, ain't it?"
"And some."
They slowed, stopped and turned toward me. I knew I could have them any time I wanted. I had no time for false modesty, knew exactly how good I looked. I might be thirty-two, could give these kids almost fifteen years, but I had always looked after myself, always worked out, concentrating on shape rather than bulk: Pilates, Yoga, swimming, dance. I ate enough to keep my curves but not so much they went further than that.
"I was wondering..." I said, and left it hanging.
It was Rick took the bait. "What were you wondering, Mrs Honeycoat?"
I looked at them both, admiring, letting them know I was admiring. Their shorts were pulled high, outlining nice looking packages. If I had to guess I'd say Garry was the better endowed, but Rick didn't look too short-changed.
"I was thinking about cleaning the pool out back."
Rick knew I had the pool. I didn't know if he'd ever told Garry, but when he was small I often babysat him. Sometimes his Mom would drop him off at my house, and when he was old enough I'd let him use the pool, as long as I was there to supervise.
"Uh-huh." It was Garry who spoke. Rick scratched at his shoulder, pushing aside his longer hair which had grown out the last year and now almost reached his shoulders. It was dark brown, thick and curling. If I squinted my eyes up he looked a little like Jim Morrison. Rick didn't. Rick was more Johnny Depp, but with shoulders and more bulk.
"I thought, if you didn't have anything on, you could help me out. I'd be glad to pay you both."
"Uh-huh," Garry said again. He stopped scratching, let his hand fall to his thigh. Long fingers, strong hands. I wondered how they'd feel against my breasts, felt my nipples tighten at the thought. They'd be showing through my top, I knew, long nipples that grew ridiculously when aroused. It had been a while since they'd been aroused by anything other than my own fingers.
"So what d'you think?" I took a couple of paces toward the sidewalk, moved so I was part sideways to them, showing the rack off at its best. I could feel my nipples pressing deliciously inside my bra. Rick tried not to look, but his glance dipped down, stayed down before he could drag it back. The bulge in front of his shorts changed shape, growing heavier.
"You want us to clean your pool?"
"Could you?" I smiled, shook my head so my hair went back over my shoulders.
Rick looked at Garry. Garry looked back. Rick shrugged.
"I guess."
"Only if you haven't got a better offer."
"No, no better offer."
"No girls around you'd rather hang with?"
Garry grinned. "Some. But they're all airheads, Mrs Honeycoat."
"How d'you know I'm not an airhead?"
They laughed. "Doesn't matter. Not if you're paying us."
"Well I'm not. An airhead, that is. I do intend to pay you. When can you start?"
"Today if you want," Rick said, and the way he stared at me I wondered if he knew what I really wanted. Christ, if my nipples got any longer they were going to drill holes in my top.
"I need to sort some things out out first. How about you come round this afternoon, take a look at the size of it and we work out an arrangement?"
"Sure." Garry this time.
"Great. See you later then."
