The Pool Boy

That’s okay, I rationalize it to myself. I’m more disappointed than I ought to be, but…

It’s a beautiful day. No reason I can’t work on my design on the balcony. I practically sprint back to my room and grab my smaller, portable drafting table and set it up on the balcony outside our upstairs sitting room. It’s the same balcony my mother was sitting on when James and I came so close to being discovered. I glance down at that window and I feel myself flush.

I make another trip back to my room and grab the design and my supplies. This is a great idea. The temperature is perfect, and I avoid the inevitable distraction of going to my window every few minutes trying to catch a glimpse of James. After setting up, I work on the design for a while, smoothing and perfecting it. I include some of what James pointed out yesterday. It’s in pretty good shape now, but I probably have another couple hours of tinkering before I’m totally finished.

The door behind me opens and my mother comes out on the balcony. “May I join you?”

“Sure.”

She has one of her books with her, and a pen. My mother loves to annotate her books. She’s constantly reading anything she can get her hands on. I honestly think reading might be the great love of her life.

“You’ve been working out here a while. For anything in particular?”

I glance at her sideways to gauge her reaction. “I have an interview tomorrow at The Harrison Foundation. I’d like this to be finished for them.”

“That’s good news.” She’s smiling.

“Do you really think that?”

She sighs. “Vera, I want you to be happy, and I want you to do what you want to do. But I also don’t think those things are impossible working for your father. After a while, once you have more experience, I’m sure you’ll be able to do whatever you want. Wherever you want. He’s just worried for you.”

“But that’s just it,” I say. “He’s forcing me into this now—what makes you think he’ll let me go my own way later? He wants me to run the company.”

“Is that the worst thing in the world?”

I think it over for a moment. “I suppose not. But if he saw what I wanted to do with it, he might not feel that way.”

Mom tilts her head, a questioning look on her face. “Why?”

“Because,” I laugh, “If I ran the company it would be completely different. I would take its resources and invest in other companies. I would focus on building houses for people who can’t—” I break off, knowing that this won’t help anything. “I’ve already given you this speech, Mom. You know what I want.”

She gives me a smile. “You’re still young, dear. I’m sure everything will work out.”

“Yeah,” I say, stifling a sigh just as I spot a flash of that horrifying blue polo coming towards the house.

James is wearing gloves and carrying giant shears—so he was working on trimming the privacy hedge. No wonder I couldn’t see him earlier. The privacy hedge is huge. He glances up at me, and I give him a quick smile before ducking my head back down to my design. I can’t do anything. Not with my mother right here.

He disappears into the garden shed, and I draw a few lines before I faintly hear the door open again. Glancing over at my mother, I see that she is engrossed in her book, making a note in the margin. I straighten up, disguising my look as a stretch. James comes around the corner and stops where I can see him. Slowly, seductively, he lifts up his shirt so I can see his abs. His other hand runs across his torso and down, rubbing himself through his jeans.

My mouth goes dry with a combination of panic and lust. Then he turns and it was like he never even stopped. He’s heading back out beyond my view and I’m left with my paper and an overactive imagination. I focus my eyes on my drafting table again, ignoring the warm feeling in my pussy. I take a few deep breaths before I set my pencil to paper again. I’m trying to exhale the excess energy that I suddenly seem to be feeling.

Luckily my mother is still engrossed in her book and hasn’t noticed the air shift around us. I take my eraser and begin the process of cleaning my lines. I’m a total stickler for clean drafts and I want this to impress. It’s slow going and I have to shake out my hand every few minutes because it gets so tense. I’m not even a third of the way done when I see him again.

He pushes the wheelbarrow out toward the house, filled with various landscaping supplies. I can feel his eyes on me from the moment we can see each other. I will not return his look. I will not stare.

Fuck. I looked. Why is this so hard?

I barely resist the urge to bang my head on the table in frustration. He goes into the shed, and I don’t think I breathe the entire time he stays in there. What if he does what he did last time? What if my mother sees?

When he comes out of the shed he doesn’t look at me, instead crossing the yard. He stops well within view of me, but now my mom would have to turn in her chair to see him. Then he turns and I see why. Every ounce of breath in my body disappears. His jeans are open and his cock is in his hand. I can see even from here that he’s hard. When I look up I realize that he is also watching me as he slowly strokes himself. My pussy clenches in response, and I try to swallow but find that I can’t. This is insane.

“I’m going to get a drink,” I say as casually as I can. “Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you,” Mom says, barely looking up from her book.

James is leaning against a tree, eyes closed in pleasure as he touches himself. God, I’m going to kill him. And later, I’m going to fuck him.

Once inside I get downstairs as quickly as possible. I tiptoe outside, trying to keep the patio door silent. I sprint to where James is standing and yank him back toward the house. All the way, until we’re pressed up against the wall where my mother won’t be able to see us. She could still hear us though.

James stands in front of me now, cock still standing at attention in the open. He’s grinning, and he starts to stroke himself again.

“Are you crazy?” I hiss through my teeth.

“Maybe.”

I glare at him. “You can’t just do things like that.”

“It got you to come down here, didn’t it?”

“I’m prepping for my interview,” I say.

He smiles, and it’s a beautiful smile like he isn’t standing in front of me with his shaft at attention. “You looked like you could use a break.”

I sigh, unable to keep my eyes off him. “Why did you work so hard to get me down here?” Our whispers are soft, and hopefully inaudible.

“I thought of another thing I want to do with you.”

“Oh?” Sarcasm drips from my voice. “How can I serve you today?”

“Jerk me off.”

It takes me completely by surprise. “What?”

He takes a step forward, his arms bracing the wall behind me and closing me in. His erection is pressing into my stomach. “Jerk. Me. Off,” he says, his voice so low and dirty I can feel my pussy contract. “I want to feel your hands on me, stroking me until I come. And when you need another break…well, then it will be your turn.”

Everything suddenly comes into sharp focus. I feel the soft breeze blowing through the yard, the wall behind me digging into my back, the heat of his cock through my shirt. His face is so close to mine and we’re breathing each other’s breath. “I guess this is part of that amazing sex we’re still having?” I ask.

“You could say that.”

I lick my lips, unable to stop myself from teasing him. “And why should I do what you say?”

“No one’s forcing you,” he says, a hint of a smile on his lips, “but I think life’s better when you take some risks. And you, Vera Caldwell, you do not take them. I think I can help with that. So today, you do what I tell you.” He presses lips against mine roughly, thrusting his tongue into me. Oh god, it feels like he’s fucking my mouth with his. Heat spreads through me like a fever and I may have changed my mind. Maybe I’ll fuck him now.

He breaks our kiss

. “Vera, put your hands on me. Now.”

I do. Reaching between us, I take hold of his cock. It twitches in my hand and I start to stroke him. Our foreheads are pressed together, and his breathing is uneven. I lick one hand and then the other, giving them slick friction. I use them both, squeezing and twisting as I increase my pace. James bites his lip and I think it might be the sexiest thing I’ve seen on his face.

Suddenly I change the rhythm, now giving him slow and deliberate. I fist my hands around him and drag along his cock from base to tip and back. I slowly fuck him with my hands and suddenly his eyes fly open and his body stiffens. His cock shudders in my hand and he spills over into my palm. I feel his come drip between my fingers. He groans softly, “Fuck.”

I’m aroused beyond belief and I know that if he were to touch me right now I’d be seconds away from coming. He doesn’t move, and we’re frozen for a second, recovering. My hand is still covered in him, and a feeling of raw power flows into me. The knowledge that I made him come, that I can bring him that kind of pleasure. I want him and I want him now. “James,” I say softly.

Then he smiles. “I think you’re going to like what I have planned for you.”

My stomach tightens, and if I hadn’t been wet before that would have done the trick. “Take me now.”

He leans into me, and we’re eye to eye. “Finish your design. Meet me in your garden in exactly two hours.” Two hours? I groan. If I can make it that long I’ll be amazed. Then, as if he can read my thoughts he says, “And no cheating. If you come before I get to take my time with you, I’ll know.” He kisses me, a rough press of lips and tongue, and then he is gone. I lean against the wall, staring after him. Two hours to go.

I go back inside and get the drink I made my excuses for and go back to the balcony and my design. I clean my hands before I join my mother back on the balcony.

My mother looks up from her book. “That took a while.”