Standard disclaimer—this story takes place in a world where STDs don't exist and only babies planned for and wanted do—in other words, a fantasy world. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely coincidental.
*
"This is she." The call had come in as soon as Gwen had returned to her desk, fresh from an orgasm at the hands and lips of Natalie, followed by a nude walk across the lawn. The voice on the other end was a young woman, quiet and hesitant, the tone and pitch reminding Gwen of when her daughters were younger and their friends would call.
"Hi Mrs. Nelson, my name is Kristen LaPointe. You probably don't remember me, but we met at Memories by McCall? The photo studio??"
"Kristen! Of course! How are you?"
"Well, to tell the truth, pretty stressed out at the moment...this sounds crazy and I can't believe I'm asking, but I really need to get on a horse for a while and clear my head. You had offered to let me ride, and I'd very much like to take you up on your offer, but if you were just being polite and would rather I not I completely understand," she said in a breathless rush. "Please don't be afraid to tell me to just go away."
"Of course Kristen, you're more than welcome! I know how much thinking I can get done on a ride. When would you like to come out?"
"Oh, thank you so much, if you mean it," the young woman said in gasp of relief. "Would tomorrow afternoon be too soon? I want to be out---I, uh, don't have to work tomorrow. Would tomorrow afternoon be alright?"
"Tomorrow afternoon is fine, my husband and I will just be doing chores around here all day. What time would you like to come?"
"Would 2 be alright?"
"2 is fine."
***
Gwen pushed the envelope that afternoon, not bothering to dress until she heard the first truck pulling up the gravel driveway. Early, she noted as scrambled into her clothes while the rush of adrenaline from nearly being caught coursed through her. There was the sound of boots on the stairs as the last button was fastened, and Jordan's head popped above floor level, followed by his sweat soaked upper torso.
"Jordan, my goodness, you look like you've been swimming!"
I can't believe how hot it was today!" he replied with a grin, offering her the sheaf of papers in his hand. "I thought it was supposed to start getting cooler this time of year, not hotter! We were worse until the AC in the truck cooled us off some. Sorry, but I smell pretty bad."
Gwen waved her hand dismissively as she thumbed through the paperwork. "You smell like you've been working hard. Women find hard work attractive."
"So I shouldn't take a shower before my next date?"
Gwen looked up to see him smiling at his own joke and smiled back. "We also like men to smell nice when they're done working hard. Please tell the others as they come back that there is beer in the shop fridge—soda for Mike—and that you may take it up to the pool with you and go for a swim. I'm sure you all deserve a cooling off. Also, don't forget to remind the others that there are swim shorts in the pool shed if anybody forgot theirs—not that you ever use them." She looked up again with a raised eyebrow.
The young apprentice didn't seem fazed in the slightest by his boss's strong hint as to what went on when she was absent. "We don't have to worry about offending or scaring anybody when it's just us guys," he said with a grin.
He was certainly the most self-assured of the apprentices, Gwen thought to herself. The most coarse, too. I wonder if that carries over into the bedroom, or he's just all talk? Has he ever even been with a woman? She knew he thought of her as a stuck-up prude and wondered what he would have done had she not dressed in time. The Lady quickly put a stop to the idea of Gwen considering her employees in a less than professional manner. "Yes, well, women do offend and scare easily," she replied with a smile, remembering how she had been aroused, not frightened by his nudity that day she had spied on he and Andrew in the pool. The cool water had shrunk them certainly, Andrew down to an almost cherub-like size, but she doubted that either young man could grow when aroused to match either dildo in her nightstand. And those no longer offended or frightened her..."Thank you for sparing us. You'll remind the others, please?"
"Yes ma'am. Why don't you join us?"
"No, you all should have some boys-only time at the end of a work week."
"It's Nelson Plumbing only time," he countered. "And you're a big part of Nelson Plumbing. C'mon, I know you're hot."
Gwen smiled, imagining the young man's persuasive tone had been used more than once to talk some poor, innocent girl out of her clothes. She held the damp pile of paper out at him. "We'll see how long this paperwork takes to sort out. Meanwhile, nobody gets a beer until all the unloading is done, right?"
Jordan grinned. "Right. We'll get it done."
"And no beer at all for Mike!" She yelled as he retreated down the staircase. "He's still underage for another three months!"
"No ma'am, no beer for the little kid!" came the echoed response.
Despite her misgivings, the paperwork was in pretty good shape that afternoon—complete, if a little damp from the humidity and the sweat that had dripped on it. Gwen was the first out of the shop that afternoon, heading for the house even as the last copper salvage and fixtures were being sorted for the scrapyard. She was at the kitchen sink, washing lettuce for a salad, when Tim breezed in, on his way to change into swim trunks.
"Going for a swim?" He called out as he went down the hall. "Jordan was telling everybody you might."
"For goodness sake, why is that news he thinks everybody has to know?" The Slut thought she knew the answer.
"Because you never have before," Tim called out again, already on his way back up. "C'mon, get changed."
"I think it's better left as a boys-only thing," she demurred as he turned the corner back into the kitchen. It was funny how quickly seeing her husband in a bathing suit had become an uncommon event.
"It's not like we're having a bachelor party up there," he grumbled as he kissed her neck on the way by to the refrigerator for more beer. "C'mon. The lettuce can wait. Get changed and meet me up there. I promise we'll all be perfect gentlemen, and if Jordan isn't, well, I'll hold him under until he is." Tim breezed out the door, towels in one hand and six-pack in the other.
Gwen thought about it a moment before heading for the bedroom. Her bikinis were out of the question, of course, but her trusty black one piece might be suitable for being the only woman in a crowd of men. Men who work for you and actively discuss what you look like naked, the Lady reminded her. They'll respect you less if you even give them a little of what they're hoping for. She ignored the warning and dressed quickly but carefully, selecting a towel and beach coverup for herself before heading up the hill.
Tim and the three apprentices were all in the water when she stepped through the chain link gate. A glance into the clear rippling water confirmed that everyone was wearing shorts, to her relief and mild disappointment. Even Walt was in attendance, his bulk filling a chair off to the right, the Nelson Plumbing shirt removed to reveal a stained white t-shirt underneath.
"No Cliff?" she asked as she made her way to the table where her towel was always placed.
Tim took a sip of beer. "Nope. Ty's got a football game tonight, and he wanted to get home in time to pick up Cheryl."
Gwen sensed all eyes were upon her, and she resisted the urge to check her outfit one more time. She had the distinct impression they were all waiting for the unveiling, for the revealing of what lay beneath her coverup. Already they had seen more leg than ever before, and the anticipation of what Mrs. Nelson looked like without baggy jeans and shirts and sweaters was telling.
It was Walt's eyes she felt the most. The boys—young men, the Slut reminded her, young, virile men who undressed every woman they saw—she expected to look, even if there was not much to see. But Walt had been looking for years, for the most part doing a decent job of hiding his interest. He had always been polite to her, but also had worked for Tim and Gwen long enough for her to occasionally overhear his thoughts on women. Naked and bringing him beer before performing lewd acts was the role of the fairer sex, although Gwen had a hard time imagining Norma doing any of that for him. More than once she had gotten the sense that Walt had envisioned the woman at the top of the office stairs performing the role for him instead. The thought had horrified her before, and amused her now. She could not imagine pushing aside that belly to find what the fat plumber would want attended to. All these years, he had been the living example of the type of man her mother had been warning her about. And now she was going to tease him with a hint of what he could never have.
Gwen surveyed the pool deck, delaying the disrobing. Everyone either had a beer in hand or close by on the edge of the pool; Mike held a can of soda, an unclaimed beer nearby raising the suspicion it belonged to the underaged apprentice. Realizing there was no way to lessen the shock value of her exposure, she untied the coverup, slipped it off her shoulders and hurried to the pool stairs.
Every man did his best not to stare. Even though the suit was modest by any reasonable standard, it still revealed the lines and shape of their employer's body like they had never seen before. Firm breasts molded the stretchy fabric over them, and the skirt about her waist did nothing to hide the toned legs emerging from beneath it. The young men made their way to the other side of the pool, as if to give her space, as she entered and made her way to stand by Tim.
"Would you like a beer, ma'am?" Jordan offered as she turned to face them.
"Oh, no thank you, I don't drink beer. Only a little wine, sometimes."
