Cleaning the Pool

I met an old friend of the family one Saturday afternoon, while shopping for odds and ends at the local mall. We spent some time catching up since we last saw one another, and eventually the conversation turned to work. Greg owned a swimming pool business of average but profitable size; his clients were mostly well-off, and trusted him as a lifelong resident of the community. At the time, I was working in an office, and wanted to make some extra capital during the summer. Greg offered me a part-time job cleaning pools, and the next weekend he was training me at various clients' homes. The work was simple enough, as most of his clients had expensive and top of the line filtration and heating systems installed. They paid more for the stature of having someone clean their pool, as opposed to simply taking the odd leaf out on their own.

On the third Saturday that I worked alone, Greg called me in a little earlier than usual. I arrived at his office, and made coffee. We sat down, and he explained a new assignment that I was going to handle.

"We have an account," he began, "It is...special. Christine Ashton. She has been on vacation the past several weeks, which is why you haven't been sent to her home yet. But today, she has returned, and she has her pool serviced at 10:00 am sharp every Saturday."

I smiled and nodded. "Ok. Not a problem. May I ask what makes her special?"

"Well, she invited me to join a business venture several years back. It turned out extremely well for us, and my inclusion was more of a favor on her part. Since then, I have offered our services free of charge to her. She is a very kind and pleasant woman, but also very precise and exacting. She will not tolerate less than perfection, and I make it a personal point to make sure she gets that perfection. I'm assigning you to her account; your work has been exceptional and complimented often. Understand that I'm trusting you with something very important to me."

I finished my coffee and got up to leave.

"Oh," he started as I headed out. "Are you handy?"

I looked at him quizzically.

"You know, with hammers, gardening, that sort of thing," he said.

"I'm no plumber or electrician," I chuckled. "But I can hang a picture or pull weeds, if that is what you mean."

"Yes, exactly," he replied. "She sometimes needs those things done. It is never anything major, but I like to accommodate her. She will tip you well if you handle things to her liking."

Off I went, making it a point to arrive fifteen minutes early at her home. I had built up an image of an elderly, rich woman that had made her fortunes with saavy and precision. I figured it would benefit me to please her, which would in turn please my pockets. I grabbed some gear from the van, and just as I approached her front door, it opened.

"Good morning, Jason," she smiled. I was stuck for a reply. She stood about 5'10", weighing roughly 130 lbs., and in all the right places. Flowing red hair silouhetted an angelic face that burned through me with sky-blue eyes. An extra open button at the top of her white blouse revealed the beginning of a generous and shapely bosom. Her thin waist cascaded into full and curvy hips, which in turn slid down to elegant but firm thighs and calves. The simple floral patterned skirt draped around her legs beautifully. I quickly found her eyes again, and judged her to be about forty years old. Later conversations confirmed my suspicions. She was stunning and sexy all at once, and finally I found my tongue.

"Good morning, Ms. Ashton." I tried my best casual smile, thinking it genuine enough as it spread across my cheeks.

"Please, call me Christine," she smiled again, and I felt warm in all sorts of places. I followed her into the house, which was large and tastefully decorated. We arrived in the stately backyard, and I began to set up my gear.

"Greg tells me you are his best worker," she started. "He also says you are an old family friend." Her eyes regarded me heavily for confirmation or denial, and I became a bit intimidated. It was both physical and mental; physically, at 5'4", 145 lbs. slender but fit, and of average looks and cleancut, I felt overwhelmed by her beauty. Mentally, because I knew this meant a lot to Greg, and I genuinely didn't want to let him down. I also took pride my work, regardless of the task at hand.

I explained our family ties, and humbly deflected the "best worker" compliment. She smiled again, and it seemed more relaxed.

"Would you like a drink?" she inquired.

"Yes, thank you. That would be great," I answered. I felt robotic and cheesy, even though I was sincere in my thanks. "I'll have whatever you are having?"

"Without even asking what, and if, I am drinking?" she grinned.

"I trust you," I offered, and off she went into the house. She returned several minutes later with a perfectly-made Margarita. I sipped it as I worked, and occasionally she peeked outside, asking if I needed anything. I didn't, and soon the minimal work I had to do was completed. She asked if I could look at the track on one of the sliding doors to her deck, and with a little oil I solved it. She thanked me profusely and cheerily, and I gathered up my gear. After it was stored in the van, I met her at the front door. We said our goodbyes, and as we did, she shook my hand warmly in both of hers. I felt something placed into my palm, but didn't dare look at it when our hands separated. I placed it in my jeans pocket and took my leave.

At the next house on my list, I pulled the paper out of my pocket. When I unfolded it, two perfectly creased $100 bills looked up at me. I laughed to myself, delighted. At the end of the day Greg met me as I prepared to depart for the evening.

"You're quite the charmer," he laughed.

"Me? What did I do?"

"Christine called me. Not two minutes after you left her house, either. She's thrilled with you, and expects only you for the rest of the summer."

I did the math in my head, and it was obvious I had found a lucrative deal if I kept this up. I thanked Greg heartily, and assured him I would take care of her for the rest of the summer.

On the sixth Saturday, Chrsitine met me at the door as usual. Only this time, she wore a black and impossibly-fitted one-piece swimsuit. I cursed my sinful eyes as they tried to roam the contours and intimacies of her body. I began my ritual, and as she had every Staurday since the first, brought me a Margarita. This time, though, she didn't ask. She spent almost the entire time I was there outside, chatting with me as she sat under an umbrella-fitted table, sipping her drink. We talked and talked, about this, that, this, and then that some more. She seemed candid and relaxed, as if any reservations she had about me were gone. We laughed a lot, and I even felt at some point that she was flirting lightly with me. I quickly dismissed the notion as absurd, and finished my work. I left, and when I checked the tip she gave me at the next house I had, it had increased to $300.00.

By the tenth Saturday, I no longer dismissed the idea of flirting with her; it had become almost incessant on her part, and I was far from complaining. We had three Margaritas as I worked, and I was pleasantly buzzed as I completed the pool. She asked me to check a few cabinets in her kitchen, and with a screwdriver I made the loose hinges go away. I returned to the backyard, and heard the distinct sounds of swimmming. She emerged from below the surface, and made her way up the steps out of the pool. I was instantly horny as I watched her walk over to me, dripping wet and smiling with satisfaction. She sat down at the table, lighting a cigarette. She offered me one, and then motioned for me to sit with her as we smoked. Her eyes roamed me openly from head to toe, and after several minutes she got up abruptly and went inside. When she returned, she had a pair of light blue men's trunks.

"I'd hate to think that you cleaned this pool but never got to enjoy it," she smiled, and then off she went, diving into the deep end. She popped up, pulling her hair away from her face. "Well, what are you waiting for?" She went under again, and my mind raced with indecision and questions. Deciding to press my luck, I stripped quickly and pulled the trunks on. I slid into the shallow end, keeping my weak swimming skills in mind. I did a few laps slowly and carefully, and then hoisted myself out, sitting on the edge of the shallow end. She emerged a few feet away, and walked towards me.

I began to say something when her hands stopped me. They slid down my chest, playing over my nipples briefly. She toyed with my Happy Trail, giggling as she twined the hairs between her fingers. She stared with naked lust into my eyes, and my trunks were being tugged down at the waistband. I lifted my ass, and she flung the trunks to parts unknown. I looked down, amazed at how rapidly I reached my length. She studied all 6 and 1/2 cut inches of me with eager desire.

"Do you want this beautiful cock sucked, baby?" she whispered. All I could do was nod, and gasp as she took my pink head in her mouth. She licked, sucked, kissed, and flickered it sweetly with her tongue, moaning heavily as she did so. Her eyes rolled up underneath the lids, and in a minute she was greedily sucking my cock with a fervor I had never experienced. I moaned at a volume that was new and urgent, and her hands massaged my balls perfectly with her sucking. I felt my orgasm build quickly, and looked down at her.

"I'm...going...to...CUM..." I breathed harshly. She sucked me harder, furrowing her brow and intently staring at my navel. The hot, thick lust of my orgasm exploded, and she swallowed three quarters of the sticky white cum that I offered. She held my cockhead in her mouth, suctioning it sharply as the last of my seed spilled out. She pulled my aching cock out her mouth with an audible "POP!", and then licked at the rest of the cum around her mouth. She grinned fiendishly up at me, and the pulled me by the waist. I hopped down into the pool, and she was hopping up and out. Her swimsuit came off with a flourish, and she opened her legs. She ran a hand down through her fiery red bush, and rubbed her pussy eagerly. She licked her lips, gazing down at me. Then she spread her pink, sexy pussy open, and commanded me, "Suck me. Suck me now."

I wanted so badly to explore every inch of her inner thighs, bush, and navel, but did as I was told. My tongue probed between her pussy lips, moving quickly and with relish. I sucked and nibbled on her lips with primal lust, finding my way into her hot center. I thrusted my tongue in and out forcefully, and she was grunting and moaning at me through clenched teeth. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Suck it. I love it. Suck it. Suck my pussy baby." Her hands wove into my hair, grasping and pulling painfully at it. I moved forward, realizing I was throbbing and erect again when my cock bumped the wall of the pool. I pushed my upper lip against her clit, and rubbed it as I fucked her gorgeous pussy with my mouth. Her thighs closed around my head, and the world muffled as I closed my eyes and breathed her in. Then she was gone, and slipping into the pool in front of me. She found my cock with her hands, and guided me into her under the water. She paused, lifting herself slightly against the wall of the pool.

"Fuck me now. Fuck me like you want to, baby. I want you...to...fuck...me..." she demanded. I slid deep into her pussy halfway, and she pushed forward. I stroked again, this time filling her with my hardness. She moaned long and hard, and within seconds I was fucking her hot tight pussy with every inch of my swollen cock. I made no attempt at taking my time, or taking her passionately. She scratched and clawed at my body, yelling and grunting obscenities. My groin ached and my balls all but crawled into my body, and I made noises that both excited and frightened me. I had a moment of terror as my orgasm built, but quickly felt relief when she screamed, strong and at length, "FUUUUUCK! CUMMMMM!"

I let go, the warmth and urgency of my cum lost in the wet center of her pussy and the pool. Her pussy spasmed and she bucked her thighs and hips furiously. She quivered and shook against me, clenching my pumping cock deliciously with her pussy. I managed another minute or two before my cock softened, sliding out of her hot pussy in a gush of fluid. We collapsed into each others arms, leaning against the wall for some time. Suddenly she kissed me, deep and long. We spent a lengthy time making out in the same position, and finally she pulled away. I crawled out of the pool, exhausted, and found a chair. She returned from inside with two robes, and we put them on. After a few smokes and a soda, I called Greg, apologizing. I had missed my next appointment, but Greg just laughed, explaining it was taken care of. He hung up, and Christine offered a shower. Once that was finished, I stowed my gear and we said a comfortable goodbye. There was no tip that week, and there would never be one again. Instead, Christine would do things with me that paid in other ways, and that summer was one I will never forget.