Kayla And The Pool Boy

This story has a slow, psychological build to an intense fetish femdom climax. I appreciate your comments and DM's on whether it should continue into a series.

***

L: Hey Dave, I was wondering if I could bring my wife by some time to see the new pool and pool house? It's one of my favorite recent projects and she loves the pics I shared with her.

D: Hey Logan, absolutely. In fact, why don't you guys come over for a drink and we can meet your wife. Would Sat evening at 6 work?

L: Seriously? That would be great.

D: Of course, it's the least we can do to thank you for such an amazing end result.

L: See you then!

***

I didn't think much of that exchange again until Saturday rolled around. In the afternoon, I went down to our fully stocked cellar to pick out wines for the evening while my wife, Tammy, went to the store for some cheese and charcuterie.

Logan was a nice guy in his late 20's who owned a pool construction company in the Hamptons. We had gotten to chatting a few times while he built our new pool, so I had learned a bit of his background. He had been a star linebacker at the local high school and went on to play college ball on scholarship. After a stint in the big city, he came back to the area a couple years ago to take over his dad's business. He had brought his girlfriend in tow, who had recently become his wife.

Logan still maintained his jock physique and was quite imposing at well over 6 feet (compared to my 5'9"). But he was also pretty unassuming and seemed to like hearing about my exploits as the head of technology and media banking at one of New York's top institutions. I'd done quite well for myself and appreciated the chance to impress a young buck. It always padded my ego to have younger people look up to me. And it's not like he was some hick, he went to a good university and made decent money in his line of work, even if it wasn't a high class profession.

The couple arrived a few minutes past six in an F-150 with his company's logo on the door. My wife and I came out to greet them.

"Hi, Mr. Baumgartner, such a pleasure to meet you," said a pretty blonde in a bubbly voice as she stepped down from the pick-up.

I immediately noticed how strikingly tall she was - about as tall as Logan. I glanced down to see she had on chunky wedge sandals that probably added a few inches. Although I guessed she was still over six feet tall without them.

"I'm Kayla," she added with a smile and a cute crinkle of her nose as she stepped toward me. "Logan has told me so much about you, I feel like I know you already."

She bent over slightly, and I was suddenly engulfed in a friendly hug. Due to our height difference, she wrapped her arms over my shoulders. My forehead pressed into her collarbone and my nose landed in a mass of her soft straight hair. It smelled clean, like she had just taken a shower. On my second breath I detected another scent, more subtle yet strangely alluring, that I took for perfume.

It only seemed appropriate to return the gesture, so I lifted my arms around the sides of her back for a light squeeze. I was struck by how large and sturdy she felt, almost like I was hugging a guy friend. Yet she was undeniably feminine and attractive, and I felt my cock stir below.

"Um, you can call me Dave," I managed to say as her embrace loosened and she stood back up.

"And you must be Tammy!" Kayla enthused with a big grin, exposing straight white teeth and adorable dimples on her tanned cheeks.

I watched as the tall twenty-something walked over and bent down towards my wife. At 5'6" with an hourglass figure, I didn't consider Tammy to be short or delicate, but next to Kayla she looked practically Lilliputian. As Kayla's arms enveloped my wife's upper body, I took the opportunity to check her out a bit more.

She wore tight white capri-length pants and a beige short-sleeve cotton sweater that left her midriff exposed. Her tits looked fairly modest from the side, although it was hard to tell for sure the way the loose weave hung off her shoulders. As she squeezed into the hug, I noticed a small jiggle that made me wonder whether she was wearing a bra underneath.

My eyes were quickly drawn down to her legs, which were easily her best feature. They were markedly ideal, long and defined with the tone of someone who worked out. Her exposed lower legs were smooth and tan, highlighted by taut, athletic calf muscles. I also noticed how her thighs seemed to bulge in the middle before leading up to a full, firm-looking ass.

"Very nice to meet you as well, Kayla," said Tammy in a surprised voice as she belatedly returned the hug, apparently also taken off guard by the striking young woman's embrace.

As Kayla rose and turned back toward me, I glanced down to admire her exposed bellybutton and waistline. Her hips were full, yet the sides of her waist didn't curve in like a classic hourglass, rather her stomach formed more of a flat, wide wall. A couple small moles dotted her sun-kissed skin. I scanned back up and was impressed at how wide and square her shoulders were, affirming my suspicion that she worked out a lot.

I felt a twinge of unease as I thought of my own body and how I'd slowly let it go over the years. I was at least 30 pounds overweight, although I thought I carried it pretty well, and still considered myself good looking. That said, my fitness level was definitely not what it used to be due to lack of effort and my aversion to public gyms and classes.

I watched as Kayla turned and grabbed a wine bottle from Logan.

"We brought you a bottle of wine, it's a robust Cabernet I just adore," she said exuberantly. "Of course, I'm sure it's nothing compared to what you must have in your cellar. Logan tells me you're quite the connoisseur."

"Well, I do know a thing or two," I responded proudly. Then I glanced at the bottle, "I've actually never heard of this, that's odd...In any case, I do have a weakness for full-bodied Cabs. But let's start with the dry Riesling I've selected and work our way towards the bolder red."

"I'm just excited to drink wine with someone who appreciates it," Kayla said with a grin, then she rolled her eyes, "Logan is more of a Budweiser guy, and so are most of his buddies around here."

I noticed that Logan smiled sheepishly, then glanced down, averting his eyes.

"Come on, let's head to the back and show you around the pool area," I said energetically as I turned to lead them around the side of the house.

I walked in front and reflected on the effect Kayla had on me during our brief exchange. Tammy and I had a good relationship and an active sex life. Despite the advancing years, she was still quite fetching, and unlike me she put a lot of effort into maintaining her curvy figure. That said, it was a pleasant surprise to find our young visitor so attractive, not to mention so tall and fit, which I found appealing in an exotic sort of way. She also had a certain vivacity about her that piqued my curiosity. I'll admit I was a bit giddy to spend the cocktail hour with her.

My steps were buoyant as we reached the pool area. I had turned on the pool lights and the water was just beginning to glimmer as the sun lowered on the mild September evening.

"Wow, the pool looks fabulous," Kayla complimented in my direction, then she turned to Logan, "You and your crew did a great job, honey! It's moments like this that makes me proud I married a pool boy."

"Thanks, babe," Logan responded quietly.

I was surprised by her choice of words, as if her back-handed compliment was intentionally meant to convey her disdain for his profession. I recalled the earlier Budweiser gibe. Logan had always seemed like a self-assured guy, but his wife seemed to strip him of his confidence, practically patronizing him. I was surprised a guy like him would put up with it and wondered curiously if he would start to push back. Or perhaps she was showing us who wore the pants in their relationship?

"And this is the new pool house," I announced as we reached the entrance.

The whole front was open, with large accordion doors pushed to the sides. The inside was lit up and looked impressive with tasteful ceramics lining custom-designed shelves and fine art photography adorning the walls. Comfortable couches faced each other with a chic stone-topped table in between. A wood serving board was laid with an assortment of meats, cheeses, olives, dried fruits, and crackers.

"Oh, this is just divine!" cried Kayla. "You guys have some serious taste. Is that vase Italian? And I just love the tiles around the fireplace, custom glazed?"

As she spoke, she raised an arm and ran a hand through her silky blonde hair. I noticed her sweater ride up on one side, exposing incredibly well-defined abs that seemed to ripple with her arm movements.

"You know your earthenware," Tammy smiled. "That vase

is

Italian, purchased in Milan. And our designer helped us find a ceramics studio in Massachusetts to craft the fireplace tiles. We picked the shade to complement the wallpaper."

"Ooh, I adore the wallpaper too," Kayla said with awe in her voice. "Isn't it just to die for, Logan?"

"Huh, I guess I didn't really notice it before," Logan responded. "Are those pineapples?"

"They're hydrangea, silly! Like the ones in the garden we just passed," Kayla lightly chided, then added a bit snidely. "It takes a sophisticated eye to see the subtle connections."

Again, Logan seemed to clam up as Kayla incrementally put him down.

"Shall we have a drink?" I asked. I noticed Logan look relieved at the change of topic. "Logan, we have some local craft brews in the beverage center if you'd prefer that over wine."

"Um, wine is fine with me," he answered with a barely detectable glare at his wife.

We settled down onto the couches and I poured the Riesling I had selected and chilled. Kayla's eyes immediately sparkled.

"Wow, this smells sooo good. I'll admit I'm not a big white drinker, but this one is super complex," she said excitedly. She swirled the glass and stuck her nose in, "Logan, can you smell the orange blossom...and lavender...and the little touch of green melon?"

"Uh, well I guess," Logan stammered. "Although I mostly just smell grapes."

Kayla issued a short

pfft

of contempt from her lips.

"Excellent nose, Kayla," I commended, ignoring the awkward dynamic. "Now take a sip and tell me what you taste."

She raised the glass, then swished it around a bit in her mouth. Her nose wiggled adorably with her cheeks, and I took note of its pleasant upturned shape. Her face reminded me a bit of Emma Stone.

"Ooh, it tastes the way fresh hay smells, and is that a hint of vanilla?" she responded enthusiastically.

"Impressive!" I said with a clap of my hands. "Don't let this one get away, Logan."

As I said it, I realized it came out a bit wrong as they were already married. But he took it with a jolly smile.

"Guess I married up," he laughed.

"Damn straight," Kayla giggled. "You know when we met in college, Logan really only ate pizza and burgers? I practically had to shove sushi down his throat to get him to try it."

"I still prefer pizza and burgers, thank you very much," he interjected with a sideways glance. "Although this salami isn't half bad."

"It's from Provence, I got it at the specialty market in town," Tammy chimed in. "It's one of my favorites."

"You guys are so refined, it's honestly a breath of fresh air to spend an evening with folks like you after hanging around with Logan's friends," Kayla spoke with an exaggerated sigh. "Tell me more about yourselves."

Tammy and I took turns sharing our backgrounds: our comfortable upbringings, boarding schools, Ivy League degrees, her stellar legal career, mine as a top investment banker. We described our coop on Park Avenue and our ski lodge in Telluride, our two grown sons, how we both loved food and travel, that we were now focused on indulging our epicurean passions as empty nesters.

While Tammy shared an anecdote about a recent court case she had won, I couldn't help watching as Kayla put her hair up in a ponytail. As she raised both elbows to the front, her top came dangerously close to exposing the bottoms of her breasts. I noticed how her arm position pressed her boobs together, causing a bulge in her sweater that made it hang like a short curtain a few inches in front of her ribcage. I surmised that I had underestimated her bust because her tits were rather far apart. At rest, their volume extended to the sides, causing her to appear flatter in profile.

I continued to watch with fascination as her elbows spread outward. Her boobs flattened back out and her chest seemed to widen, making her torso look triangular. I sucked in a breath and my heart skipped a beat. She reminded me of an eagle preparing her wings to fly. With each fidget at her hair, the muscles in her arms seemed to appear and disappear in different places. Every part of her seemed taut and firm, like there was far more than met the eye beneath her cute facade.

Just as Kayla finished looping in a scrunchy, she shot a quick glance toward me. My eyes darted down toward the food, and I grabbed a piece of aged Gouda trying to not look guilty of staring. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed her lip curl slightly.

"So enough about us," Tammy said. "How about you guys?"

"Well, you already know Logan's small town all-American boy story," Kayla spoke for the couple. "I grew up in San Francisco, my dad's a tech entrepreneur and my mom's a doctor --"

"What kind of tech, Kayla?" I interrupted, "My investment banking work is in tech, so I might know it."

"He founded a software company called Leviathan Technologies focused on big data applications," Kayla answered. "He sold it a few years back."

"Of course, I know Leviathan, you're Steve Jankowski's daughter," I exclaimed with a slap of my knee. "That was a good exit. My team and I actually pitched to represent him on the sale."

Her eyes suddenly twinkled.

"I know. I asked him about you when I found out we were coming over here. He said you presented to him, but he wasn't sure you'd remember," Kayla responded, then added with a sly smile. "He said you were

way

too expensive...that a guy who charges that much must have a really nice house. He was right about that part."

"Well, it's not cheap to work with the best," I countered, a bit too gruffly. "I'm sure we would have paid for ourselves and more with a big step-up in valuation."

"Why don't you continue what you were saying before Dave interrupted you, Kayla," my wife said with a look askance, signaling me to chill out.

I knew the glance well. With my type-A personality and hard driving style, it wasn't uncommon for me to get overly intense or prickly in conversations. Tammy was good at helping me take it down a notch. I hated to lose, and even bringing up an old failure could set me off. I leaned back into the couch, endeavoring to listen and enjoy my wine.

Kayla went on to describe her well-off west coast upbringing: regular family trips to Big Sur and Sonoma, her exposure to wine culture, her interest in the arts, and her love of fitness and sports.

Her monologue gave me the opportunity to study her pretty face without appearing to leer. I admired her high cheek bones and light green eyes that seemed to draw in her listeners. I adored the cute freckles dotting her nose and the sweet dimples that came and went with her infectious smile. I noticed that she shunned make-up, yet her complexion was clean and smooth, her lips pink, soft and succulent. My eyes trailed down to her neck, no longer shrouded in hair, taking in its graceful curvature and noting its similar tautness to the rest of her body.

I appreciated the polished way she spoke and the appealing tenor of her voice, how she modulated her tone and body language to captivate and entertain. The combined effect was one of playful sophistication. Most of all, I loved how expressive her face became whenever she exuded emotion, it was almost like I could feel each sentiment with her. She was truly charming.

"I decided I needed to branch out from the left coast bubble, so I went to Northwestern where I played basketball and hung out with jocks, which is how I met Logan. Now here I am, a fish out of water on the far side of Long Island."

"The Hamptons aren't exactly the sticks," Logan interrupted with visible annoyance.

"Well they are if you only hang out with the locals," Kayla retorted. "At least in New York I had a career at McKinsey and a cosmopolitan social set. Now people know me as the wife of the hired help."

Logan's knee started to bounce up and down as his agitation seemed on the verge of boiling over. It appeared to me like she was intentionally trying to humiliate him. I have to admit I found it amusing, maybe even a bit spicy, yet I also took solace in knowing I would never let a woman treat me that way.

"Now that's not at all fair, dear," Tammy said, rushing to Logan's defense. "We've never treated Logan like he's the help. In fact, our multiple friends who recommended him describe him as a true craftsman in his trade, practically an artist."

Logan gave Tammy an appreciative look and seemed to relax a bit.

"You know I encouraged her to maintain her career. They even offered to let her work remotely when we moved out here," Logan finally spoke in his defense. "It was her decision to give it up."

"I'm not saying I didn't make the choice," Kayla spoke. "I mean I did marry the big oaf."

She punched her husband on the arm and they laughed together, finally showing a semblance of chemistry.

"And there

are

benefits to a business that shuts down for months at a time," Kayla continued. "If you'd believe it, I convinced the hometown kid to get a passport and we've traveled to Europe and Latin America the last couple winters. I grew up traveling and just adore experiencing new cultures. I think this winter we'll try somewhere in Asia -- although I have to work on expanding this guy's palate, so he doesn't starve."

"Hey, McDonald's and Pizza Hut are pretty much everywhere," Logan joked.

"Ha!" Kayla laughed. "But seriously, I really hate being mistaken for ugly Americans overseas. So many of our fellow citizens stick out like such sore thumbs."

"Well, I can't imagine anyone calling you two ugly," I joked.

Kayla's lip curled again, like when she caught me staring, although now it was clearly visible. I hadn't actually intended to compliment them, more just state what seemed like an obvious fact -- to me at least. I quickly changed course.

"And at your sizes, you'll stick out like sore thumbs in Asia anyway," I added with a laugh.

"I'm not sure what you mean?" Kayla asked with a quizzical look and a cock of her head.

"Well, um," I stammered, momentarily taken off guard, uncertain if I had said something offensive.

"I'm just messin' with you, Dave!" Kayla laughed, causing the others to erupt. "Logan and I stick out like sore thumbs in Grand Central Station for God's sake. Or as I prefer to say, like sunflowers in a wheat field," she added in a wry poetic voice, bringing more laughter.

To be honest, I wasn't accustomed to being the target of a joke, especially from someone younger than me. The fresh MBA's on my team, similar in age to Kayla, were mostly afraid of me, and the rest were total brown-nosers. Even with most older people, it would have bothered me.

But Kayla was different. Something about her brought out my playful side and I enjoyed her attention. What seemed like a polite cocktail was quickly becoming fun, and with the benefit of the wine I began to let my guard down.

"So how tall are you guys, anyway," I asked when the laughter subsided.