A Fantastic Summer

Chapter 1 Mrs. Napolitano

Dave Stringer whistled low and long as he brought the truck to a stop in front of the palatial house perched on the hillside.

"Will you look at that" he said. "These people must have some dough."

"Do you want me to wait here?" Dylan asked as Mr. Stringer got out of the truck.

"Nah, you come along. This is going to be one of your clients."

Dylan followed Mr. Stringer up to the front door. A young, slim, attractive woman who appeared to be about Dylan's age answered the door.

"We're from the pool company," Mr. Stringer said. "Is Mrs. Napolitano home?"

"Wait here," the girl said and disappeared into the house.

They waited, standing in the cool, high ceilinged foyer.

Dylan was trying to peer into the living room to the left of the foyer when he heard the click of heels on the tile floor. He looked up and his mouth dropped open. The woman who was coming toward them flowed, as if she was part water or part cloud. Maybe it was the sway of her hips or the tight white dress that ended several inches above her knee, or the way she put one foot carefully in front of the other. Dylan couldn't be sure. She stopped in front of Dylan and his boss and tossed her thick dark hair over one shoulder. She surveyed them coolly. Dylan tried not to stare at the way her round breasts filled out the top of her dress, or her firm, enticing cleavage.

"Can I help you?" She asked. She had a soft Italian accent and an almost angelic face: large, dark eyes, a small straight nose with a slightly upturned tip, and full sensuous lips.

"Mrs. Napolitano?" Stringer asked, holding out his hand. "I'm Dave Stringer from Pools-R-Us. You called about pool maintenance and upkeep."

Mrs. Napolitano reached out and took Mr. Stringer's hand. It looked like she expected him to kiss her hand rather than shake it.

"You'll want to see the pool, si?" she asked.

They followed her through the house. Dylan couldn't take his eyes off of her. The way her tight dressed clung to her tiny waist and hugged her thighs, the enticing wiggle of her ample, but shapely ass. They came out into the backyard. The pool was enormous. Bigger than any pool Dylan had ever seen. It was surrounded on two sides by rocks with grasses, bushes and small trees interspersed, making it look more like a tropical pond than a pool. At the far end the main pool poured over a series of rocks into a smaller pool below. Beyond the smaller pool the valley spread out and you could see the city, and the mountains rising on the far side.

"That's some pool," Mr. Stringer said. "All that vegetation is going to make for some serious cleaning issues."

"Si, it always dirty," Mrs. Napolitano said. "We look at the hot tub now."

"Hot tub?"

"Si, in the pool house, come I show you."

The pool house was easily as big as Dylan's parents' house. There was a large hot tub, a sauna rest rooms, shower rooms, and changing rooms.

"This will need to be treated and cleaned," Mrs. Napolitano said. "And the sauna, shower, toilets, and changing rooms will need to be kept clean."

"Oh, we only do pools," Mr. Stringer said quickly.

Mrs. Napolitano turned and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "You no want the job?"

"Uh, no, no, not at all," Mr. Stringer said. He glanced at Dylan. "But cleaning the pool house will be extra."

"Money is no an issue," Mrs. Napolitano said.

"I bet," Mr. Stringer muttered under his breath.

"Mi scusi?" Mrs. Napolitano asked.

"When do you want us to start?" Mr. Stringer asked.

"Tomorrow."

"Ok, Dylan here will stop by tomorrow around 2:00," Mr. Stringer said.

Mrs. Napolitano cocked her head and looked Dylan over critically, the way you might look at a car you were purchasing. Dylan tried to stand up straighter.

"How old are you?" Mrs. Napolitano asked.

"18, Ma'am," Dylan replied.

Mrs. Napolitano nodded and then turned to Stringer. "Two o'clock. Why so late?"

"He has other clients' pools to service, but I can change the schedule if that's not a good time."

"I think you no understand," Mrs. Napolitano, said. "I want a full-time pool boy."

"Full-time," Mr. Stringer said. It came out flat. "There's a lot of work here, but not that much. A few hours a day should take care of it."

"Full-time," Mrs. Napolitano repeated.

Stringer looked over at Dylan. "That's $800 per day."

Mrs. Napolitano shrugged.

"Er, is Mr. Napolitano good with this?" Mr. Stringer asked.

Mrs. Napolitano gave Stringer a withering look. "I am 'good with this'."

"Well, alright then. Dylan will be here tomorrow at seven AM. Unless that's too early for you."

"Seven will be fine," Mrs. Napolitano said.

They followed the sway of her hips back to the front door.

****** ****** ****** ****** ****** ******

The big house was quiet when Dylan arrived the next morning. He parked the van and unloaded the chemicals and tools, carrying them as quietly as possible around the house. First, he tested the PH levels in the pool and then the hot tub. Next, he shocked both as the levels were way off. After that he began to clean. He started with the skimmer. He was just finishing that up when Mrs. Napolitano emerged from the house.

She was wearing a thin white gown and high heels. She stepped elegantly, putting one foot carefully in front of the next. Dylan could see the jiggle of her breasts beneath the shear material.

"Uh, good morning Mrs. Napolitano," he managed, trying to look anywhere but her breasts.

"Boun Giorno," Mrs. Napolitano replied. She stopped in front of him and surveyed the pool.

Dylan stared at the dark outline of her nipples that showed clearly through the thin material of her gown. He looked away. He could feel a stirring in his shorts. He glanced back at her wondering how old she was. Her skin was as perfect as ivory. There were no signs of wrinkles on her forehead or around her eyes.

Mrs. Napolitano frowned. "Can I swim?" she asked.

"Oh, yes Ma'am. I just need to vacuum the bottom, but I can start at the lower pool," Dylan replied.

"No, no, that's alright. I will sunbath. I no want to be in your way," she said, and turned toward the pool house.

Dylan's eyes followed her until she disappeared into the building. He took a deep breath, adjusted his half hard cock in his shorts and went back to work on the pool. He was vacuuming the debris from the bottom when Mrs. Napolitano returned. To his shock, she was topless, her lower half covered only by a tiny patch of white cloth out of which he could clearly decern a few dark curls escaping at the top.

Her beautiful, full breasts giggled a bit as she walked toward the row of chaise lounges lining the head of the pool. Her slightly upturned nipples were small and pink. Dylan's cock stirred and shifted in his shorts and he sucked in his breath. He'd never seen a woman even half naked in real life. To his constant consternation and embarrassment, he was still a virgin. He forced himself to look away as he frantically tried think of anything other than Mrs. Napolitano's half naked form. But he couldn't help another quick glance.

Mrs. Napolitano was bent over arranging her towel on the lounger, her perfect ass completely exposed to his view. There was a small crease in the scape of cloth that covered her pussy that hinted at the tempting slit underneath, the rest of the suit bottom disappeared between her full, heart-shaped ass cheeks.

Dylan felt his member swell and shift in his shorts until it was standing straight up. Quickly he turned so that she would not see the bulge in his shorts. He glanced back to make sure she hadn't seen anything. Mrs. Napolitano had turned around and was now sitting, legs spread on either side of the lounger, squeezing sun block onto her hand. As he watched out of the corner of his eye, she began rubbing the lotion into her face, working her way down to her chest. Dylan could hardly stand it when she began to slowly massage the sun block into her breasts.

Dylan looked back at the pool. When he took another surreptitious glance, Mrs. Napolitano was sitting back, one shapely leg stretched out so that she could apply the lotion. Dylan swallowed hard, sure he could see the hint of her labia between her leg and the skimpy cloth covering her pussy. He couldn't watch, he was already so hard it hurt. Taking deep breathes he concentrated on the job at hand. Slowly his cock softened until it was only at half-staff. Dylan breathed a sigh of relief. He needed this job to help pay for college in the fall.

"Mi scusi"

Dylan glance around. Mrs. Napolitano was sitting up looking his way.

"Mi scusi," she said again. "Can you a help me?"

"Ah... Sure," Dylan said, not moving. "What do you need?"

"I need you, over here."

Dylan's heart sank. He tried to take his time putting down the pool vacuum and making sure it was secure, in the vein hope that the swelling between his legs would subside. He took a moment to adjust himself in his shorts before he slowly turned and walked toward her. He hoped she couldn't see the bulge in his pants.

"What can I help you with?" Dylan asked when he was close enough to speak normally. He tried to concentrate on her deep brown, almost black, eyes, but his gaze kept slipping down to the two rosy tips of her up-turned breasts.

Mrs. Napolitano smiled at him in a knowing way. "What is your name?"

"Dylan, Ma'am."

"Dee-lan," she repeated. "Please, I need you to rub the lotion on my back." She held the bottle out toward Dylan.

Dylan stood rooted to the ground.

"Ah, I'm not supposed to.. um.. interact with the clients," he said.

"Don't you do whatever I pay you for?" She asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well yes, but if Mr. Stringer found out I could lose my job," Dylan said, forcing himself to look only at her face.

"Mr. Stringer," Mrs. Napolitano said dismissively. "Come."

Dylan shuffled forward conscious of his quickly growing erection and took the lotion. Mrs. Napolitano rolled on to her stomach.

"Start at the shoulders," she commanded.

Dylan stared at her, marveling at her slender back and how her hips widened out from her small waist. He found that his hands were shaking.

"What are you waiting for?" Mrs. Napolitano asked.

"Nothing," Dylan said. Gingerly, he perched on the edge of the lounger being careful not to come into contact with Mrs. Napolitano in any way. He squirted some lotion into his hand and began to massage it into her shoulders. His already hard member strained against his shorts. Her skin felt soft and velvety beneath his hands.

"Mmm, that feels nice," Mrs. Napolitano said.

Dylan's heart was beating so hard he was afraid he might have a heart attack. His cock, ramrod hard, was rubbing against the restraining cloth of his shorts. It was both uncomfortable and wonderful all at once.

"Please, don't miss any spots," she said. "I no want to burn."

Dylan poured more lotion into his hand and began to work his way down her back. As he worked along her sides his hand accidentally brushed the soft tissue of her breasts ever so lightly. He pulled back immediately, not wanting to offend her.

"Not to worry, you can touch there. On my, how do you say?" Mrs. Napolitano asked.

"Er, um, breasts?" Dylan offered awkwardly.

"Yes, breasts," she said. "I not want to burn there."

Dylan's cock was throbbing so hard he though it might tear a hole in his shorts. Gently, he rubbed lotion into the soft tissue of the sides of her breasts. He couldn't believe this was happening. Not wanting her to think he was a perv, he didn't spend too much time there, but continued on down her narrow back until he reached the swell of her hips. Her waist felt pleasingly small under his hands.

"Ahhhh," Mrs. Napolitano groaned as he worked her lower back. "You can press a little more there, that feels meravigliosa."

Dylan could feel a wetness in his pants and realized he was oozing precum into his boxers. He was breathing like a long-distance runner and he felt flushed and hot. The action of rubbing lotion into Mrs. Napolitano's back was causing his engorged member to rub against his shorts, sending little shocks of pleasure through his loins. The urge to touch himself was almost overwhelming, but he didn't dare.

"Make sure that my la natica is covered."

"Um... La what?" Dylan asked.

"La naticia," Mrs. Napolitano said. She lifted herself off the lounger a bit, giving Dylan a tantalizing, close-up view of her left boob, reached back and patted herself lightly on the ass. "If you work for me you must learn some Italian."

"You want me to put lotion on your ass?" Dylan asked, incredulously.

"Ass. Is that not an animal?" She asked.

"Well yeah, but also your, um, la naticia."

"That sounds vulgar. Is that really the word in English?"

Dylan swallowed hard. "Well, that or butt. I guess."

"La naticia," Mrs. Napolitano said definitively.

Tentatively, Dylan moved his hands down over the swell of her ass. His cock straining and pulsing against his shorts sent a little shiver down his spine. He could feel a tingling pressure starting at the end of his rod. Mrs. Napolitano sighed and shifted on the lounger, opening her legs just a bit. Dylan had to stifle a gasp. Her thong bottoms could not fully conceal the crinkle of her little rosebud anus. He shifted his position a tiny bit to better apply pressure to her cheeks and for a better view between her legs. Dylan had never been this close to a woman who was so close to naked. Mrs. Napolitano raised her ass ever so slightly to meet his hands and suddenly Dylan could see her thick, dark furred outer labia peeking out from around the thong of her bathing suit bottom. He couldn't be sure, but the material of her suit looked slightly darker as if it might be damp.

This was too much; to his horror Dylan felt his cock swell and pulse in his shorts. He stifled a groan as the first wave of a spontaneous orgasm hit him. His cum jetted out and soaked his boxers. He went completely still as his pulsing, throbbing member unloaded his pent-up balls into his shorts. He could feel the thick strings of cum soaking the cloth and dripping down his throbbing erection. It was all he could do not moan with pleasure at the release.

"Why you stop?" Mrs. Napolitano asked.

"Uh, no reason," Dylan managed. He was terrified that she would turn to look at him and see the mess he'd made. He quickly massaged the last of the lotion into her luscious ass cheeks, his eyes glued to her labia. He felt lightheaded and his shorts were cold and wet against his still ridged member.

"All done. I need to get back to the pool," Dylan said standing up and turning away from her as quickly as possible. His face felt like it was on fire. His cock was still fully erect and was making a tent in his shorts. A wet sticky spot glistened in the sun where his cum had soaked through the thin material.

Dylan's legs felt rubbery under him, but he managed to make it back to the edge of the pool. He could feel his cum running down his leg. He quickly finished the upper pool and retreated to the relative privacy of the lower pool. There, out of sight of the house, he stripped off his shorts and tried to wash the cum out of them. He took his time with the lower pool and by the time he was done, his shorts were almost dry, and his cock had returned to its normal size. To his relief, and disappointment, Mrs. Napolitano was nowhere to be seen when he returned to the upper pool.