The Pool House

If you haven’t read the first part of The Pool House already, you’ll definitely want to do so before reading this section.

Yvonne woke blearily at noon the next day. Jumbled images of the party swam in her head. The way she’d found the swimmer sitting in the pool house so calmly, his legs apart, waiting for her. And other memories – Edward’s worldly smile, the couple fucking on the lawn, Jim’s glistening cock sticking out brazenly as she turned the corner in the hall …

No. Stop right there. Thinking about Jim had no upside. But the swimmer – she realized that she had no idea what his name was – he was different. He was the perfect lover. Since he never spoke, their tryst would always be their secret.

Yvonne touched herself again, knowing that doing so would never really satisfy her again.

# # #

Her lunch with Nora forced her to focus, to stop thinking about sex for a little while. She dressed carefully for the occasion and ordered a salad -- something that she could eat without difficulty while talking. Nora made it easy for her by supplying most of the conversation. She talked about her travel plans and a concert she’d just been to and her student days in Paris.

“I picked up a lot of French habits while I was there,” she said, winking.

Yvonne wondered if she was referring to a relaxed attitude towards sex. She was pretty sure that was exactly what Nora meant. And she thought about how much she admired that in Nora, her independent spirit and savoir faire, so different from her parents’ dorkiness. Yvonne wondered how she might cultivate those same sensibilities in herself.

When the conversation found its way to the previous weekend’s party, Yvonne asked as disinterestedly as she could about the lanky, olive-skinned swimmer. Nora smiled, not fooled.

“He’s our yoga instructor,” she explained. “Edward and I used to go to a studio in town, but it was such a hassle coming and going all the time that we decided to convert one of our bedrooms to a yoga room. He comes over a couple of times a week to show us new poses. He’s amazing, really. He started studying in Sri Lanka when he was five.”

“Sri Lanka?”

“Yes. He trained as a monk there.”

“Wow, that’s pretty exotic. So he doesn’t speak any English at all?”

Nora shrugged. “Oh, I think his English is fine. He’s taken a vow of silence.”

Yvonne smiled to herself. But not a vow of chastity, evidently. How about obedience?

“Actually, Edward is the real adept in our house. He’s been doing it for years. I’m still trying for that yoga butt.”

Yvonne recalled Nora’s slim figure from the hot tub. “I think you’ve already got it. I wish I were that toned – the stairmaster hasn’t quite gotten me where I want.”

Nora considered for a moment. “Well, if you’d like, come over to our place at three on Friday. Your friend will be there – he can get you started.”

Yvonne’s eyes glazed for a moment. She pictured the swimmer, his smooth limbs stretched out, his muscles flexing in his legs and back. “That would be great,” she said.

# # #

But first she had to deal with that modeling commitment she’d made so rashly at the party. There was no getting out of it, but she had seriously mixed feelings about going. It excited her and terrified her all at once.

Jake’s house, perched on a hill to the west of town, seemed less like an artist’s studio than the temple of some odd-ball eastern religion. The house itself was normal enough, at least for that tony neighborhood; but every room Jake led her through as they walked down to the studio in the basement was adorned with statues of multi-armed gods and half-burned candles. Several more of the large nudes she’d seen at Nora’s house hung on the walls. She swallowed hard, realizing that she was about to become one of them. She just hoped it wouldn’t be too weird.

Well, there was nothing particularly odd about Jake. He was a bit fussy, but he chatted amiably enough as they headed down narrow stairs hung with beads. He wore an old t-shirt, paint-stained white shorts and flip-flops.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked.

“Do you have any orange juice?”

He nodded and started back upstairs. “You can change in the bathroom whenever you’re ready. There’s robe on the door. I’m only going to sketch today – maybe block out some of the big areas. So we won’t be that long.”

Yvonne looked around. The “basement” actually had tall windows with a view down the hill. At one end of the big room was an easel set up with a blank canvas. It faced a large backless couch upholstered in red velvet. There were painting supplies scattered around and a table with brushes soaking in greenish liquid. Painting was a messy business, apparently. In one corner was the door to the small bathroom Jake had referred to. So here I am again, Yvonne thought. Taking off my clothes in an unfamiliar room and putting on a robe. But this time she was pretty sure that nothing terribly exciting was going to happen. Jake looked gay to her.

She undressed a bit timidly. Gay or not, it was an odd feeling, being naked in a stranger’s house. She stepped out feeling a small thrill of adventure, not knowing quite what to expect. What she definitely wasn’t expecting was to see Edward coming down the stairs talking comfortably with Jake. He smiled when he saw Yvonne.

“Hello again,” he said, extending his hand.

Yvonne shook it uncertainly, looking over towards Jake for an explanation.

“Edward’s my favorite model,” Jake said. “Always does what he’s told. Sits quietly by the hour.” He pointed at the blank canvas. “I thought I’d make this one a couple. You don’t mind, do you?”

Yvonne opened her mouth then realized that she didn’t know what to say. In a way it was a relief. It felt odd being alone with Jake, even though this was obviously business as usual for him. Having Edward there for support made her feel more comfortable somehow.

“Ah, sure. That’s fine,” she said.

Jake nodded absently, already thinking of other things. “Edward, go change please. I don’t want to lose the light. Yvonne, please sit on the left side of the divan leaning a bit towards the center.”

She sat, legs dangling, feeling awkward. Jake came over and arranged her arms and legs as if he were folding laundry. He draped her long hair so that it fell forward over one shoulder. Part way through the process Edward stepped back into the room wearing a robe that he hadn’t bothered to tie shut. Yvonne’s eyes were drawn to his crotch and its dark hair and thick cock. She quickly looked away.

Jake sat them down so that they were back to back, then eyed them critically. “No. Edward, turn towards her. Put your head on her shoulder as if you were kissing her neck. Put one hand up so that it covers her right breast.”

Edward moved his hand so that it lay lightly on her robe. “There?”

“Yes. Perfect. Okay, kids, robes off then back on the divan.”

Edward stood up and casually removed his robe. Trying for the same nonchalance, Yvonne untied hers and shrugged it off. Edward sat beside her again and they snuggled back into the position Jake wanted. She felt the warm skin of his chest touch her back. She could smell his faint masculine scent over the room’s odor of turpentine and linseed oil. Rough skin nuzzled her neck – his chin, she figured – and she felt a twinge as his lips touched a sensitive spot on her shoulder. That felt nice; so gentle, so intimate. Then his hand came up to cover her breast. He didn’t really touch her, but her nipples responded anyway, hardening almost painfully. He probably couldn’t notice from where he sat, and anyway he’d probably attribute it to the cool air in the studio. Yvonne tried to relax, but she was deeply aware of the attractive naked man right beside her. She was embarrassed but excited at the same time. The pose was like an embrace frozen in time, never quite fulfilling its promise.

Jake sketched diligently with a stick of charcoal. He’d stop, stare at them for a minute, then go back to his canvas. It occurred to Yvonne that this odd stasis would persist for some time, hours, even. No one spoke. Jake had put on some soft jazz and Yvonne just sort of drifted with the music after a while. She let the embalmed scene play out in her mind. Edward would nibble along her neck, then turn her gently around until they were face to face. He would kiss her languorously and lay her on her back …

Edward broke her reverie. “Look, I’m sorry, but my arm is getting tired. I’m going to have to really put it on your chest.”

Yvonne blinked. “Uh, okay. Sure.”

His fingers, oddly warm, cupped her breast. The touch sent sparks flying from her erect nipple, coursing through the rest of her body. He seemed to press against her a little more insistently. She felt his breath on her neck. The pose felt even more as if it was on the edge of something.

“Yvonne?” Jake asked.

Could she do it with someone like Edward? The thought was delicious and brave and adult, sort of like in foreign movies. It was frustrating that she couldn’t look at him. She wanted to know how his body compared with the swimmer’s.

“Yvonne, are you still with us?”

She looked up, startled.

“Take a break. I’m going upstairs for a bit. Can I bring you guys anything to drink?”

“Oh,” said Yvonne. “No, I’m fine.”

Edward let go of her and stood up, stretching, perfectly comfortable with his nakedness. Now that she could see him better she took the opportunity to study his body. He wasn’t as lean as the swimmer, and less muscular than Jim. But he carried himself so confidently. Nora was the same way. Yvonne wished she could be more like them.

“So you’ve never done this before?” Edward was asking.

Yvonne shook her head.

“You’re very self-possessed,” he said. “Artists like that.”

Yvonne giggled. “I’m just kind of preoccupied right now.”

Edward raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what have you been thinking about?”

He was standing just a few feet from her, his cock at eye level. It was soft, so she couldn’t really compare it with Jim’s or the swimmer’s. But she had the sense that it was quite a bit thicker than either of the others, if a bit shorter. Too bad that it was so limp. Perhaps if she just held it for a minute?

But Edward had just asked her what she had been thinking about.

“Oh, just personal stuff.”

He stood with a hand on one hip. The afternoon light that Jake liked so much shone through the dark hair on his chest and sparkled on his thick pubic hair. Yvonne’s eyes widened. Was that a little jump in his cock? Edward did seem to be studying her. And, really, it was a little insulting that he could stand there so calmly while she was naked three feet away.

Yvonne decided to stretch a little. She stayed on the couch, but extended her arms above her head, causing her breasts to ride up on her chest. She twisted slowly from side to side. Suddenly, Edward didn’t look quite so casual. His eyes stayed locked on her body. There was a strained look on his face. Then he chuckled quietly.

“Young lady, are you teasing me?”

Her face turned bright red. “No! Well, not really. I didn’t mean … I’m sorry.”

His laughter broke the tension. He took a step towards her and lifted her chin with one hand. “Well, then, do it properly. Lay down on your stomach.”

She looked confused for a moment. Couldn’t Edward take anything seriously? Then she giggled, getting into the spirit of it. She crawled onto the divan, facing towards him.

“Up on your elbows.”

She raised herself up on her arms until her breasts were hanging freely, her puffy nipples just grazing the slipcover. She gave him her best seductive grin.

Edward applauded gravely. “Very sexy. Now roll over.”

She obliged , turning languorously, until she was on her back, her breasts flattening out on her chest. She lifted one knee and tilted her head back, her hair falling across her face.

Now Edward sounded serious for the first time. “You’re really very pretty.”

She rolled over again and sat up, until she was back in her pose at the edge of the divan. “Thank you, Edward. This whole thing … it’s a little uncomfortable for me.”

She was very close to him again, and she saw that her acrobatics had had an effect. His cock was half-erect and visibly lengthening. Yvonne felt a little embarrassed for him, but Edward was as relaxed as ever.

Yvonne was enjoying herself. “Any other poses you want to see?”

“Why don’t you lie back and spread your legs?”

He said it with a smirk, and she batted playfully at him. The blow was aimed more or less at his crotch, and to her amazement he sort of flipped his cock out of the way to avoid her hand.

“Wow. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Yes, well, I’m renowned for my skill with my genitalia.”

She giggled and took another swipe at him. This time her hand connected with his cock and ended up holding it lightly. She was so shocked she didn’t know what to do. She stared up at Edward, eyes wide.

He looked back at her, eyes intense. “Don’t stop there.”

She felt almost hypnotized by his gaze. She couldn’t look away. Slowly, her hand moved along the length of his shaft. He didn’t say anything, but his cock grew in her hand, until she could barely close her fingers around it. Jesus, she thought. Now what?

Edward stroked her cheek then let his hand trace the curve of her neck. His eyes never left hers. His cock was rigid and burning hot, but his hand was cool, meltingly soft against her skin. She closed her eyes. His hand drifted downward in a leisurely arc until it brushed one nipple. He’d touched her there before, as part of their pose, but now it meant something. Electricity surged through her body, drawing her towards him until her face nuzzled against his hip. She could smell his excitement now, overpowering his subtle cologne. His hand held one breast, brushing against her painfully hard nipple. Her breathing grew faster. Where was this going? As she slid her hand along the shaft faster, some sort of thumping intruded on her consciousness. But the cock quivering in her hand demanded all of her attention. The warm surface sort of moved a little over the rigid flesh beneath …

The thumping grew louder. She tried to push it aside, but it kept happening, louder and louder. Footsteps, she finally realized. Coming closer. Jake, walking down the stairs!

Yvonne snapped upright, opened her eyes. Edward moved away from her like a cat. In an eye blink he was leaning on the far end of the couch, looking thoughtful and collected. His cock stood straight up, all its impressive girth in evidence. But his body was turned away from Jake, who busied himself with his canvas. Maybe he didn’t want to give his gay friend any ideas.

“Back to work, kids,” Jake said cheerfully.

# # #

Wednesday evening was date night again for her parents, and Jim was back. He and Kate were sitting in the family room watching a movie. Yvonne wasn’t much interested, but Kate had made popcorn, which Yvonne just couldn’t resist nibbling. She sat in a chair to one side, trying not to watch them cuddle. Yvonne wore a short, loose sun dress. Whenever she crossed her legs Jim looked over to see the dress ride up on her tanned thigh. What a jerk. But Kate was oblivious. She leaned against his shoulder and put her hand in his lap. That did it for Yvonne. Popcorn or no, she was going up to her room.

A little while later the drone of the TV set stopped. She waited quietly until she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. The footsteps moved into Kate’s room, and the door closed, muffling their sounds. The hell with it, Yvonne thought. Why do I care anyway? I should just go to bed. She took off her dress and pulled on a skimpy ribbed tank-top that left her midriff bare. She thought about pulling on a pair of shorts, but she didn’t. Wearing the top and her powder blue thong, she left her room and went down the hall to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and washed her face. She was done, really, ready for bed. But she lingered by the sink, brushing her hair and looking nervously towards the door. She’d left it half open.

Another minute passed. Then the door pushed inward all the way and Jim walked in.

Like the week before, he was naked – except for a pair of gym socks this time – and his cock stuck straight out, huge and sopping wet. He stopped short when he saw her, unsure, about to apologize.

Yvonne felt as if time was dripping like candle wax. The silence in the bathroom seemed enormous. She turned to face him and leaned back against the sink, her palms resting on the edge. Her nipples hardened, pushed out against her sheer top.

Jim’s face lit up with his stupid, cocky grin. He closed the door behind him and walked up to Yvonne, until he was only inches in front of her. His cock nearly spanned the distance between them. He smelled of sex and perspiration. Yvonne’s eyes turned very large and frightened, but she stayed exactly where she was. Jim leaned forward to kiss her but she turned her head away. That wasn’t what she wanted. It would be … like betraying Kate somehow.

He was taller than she’d realized, towering a head above her. All she could see was Jim; he filled the whole space between her and everything else. He reached for the bottom of her tank top and pulled it up slowly. The fabric snagged for a moment on her puffy, dome-shaped nipples, then came free, exposing her breasts. Yvonne drew in her breath with a gasp. Jim’s own breathing was ragged. He moved his head down towards her chest and kissed one breast. Yvonne’s legs suddenly felt weak, as if they couldn’t possibly hold her up; she leaned back heavily against the counter.

Jim stuck his tongue out and licked around one aureole, again and again, fascinated with its smoothness. He flicked the nipple lightly with each pass. She felt blood pounding through her body, flushing her chest, throbbing so hard in her pussy that it hurt. Then he sucked her whole breast into his mouth. His tongue kept caressing her nipple while his hands began exploring lower on her body, moving across her hip and around to one smooth buttock. She was so sensitive; every touch, every lick sent sparks flying through her body.

Jim was pressed against her now, his cock resting on her stomach. She could feel his heartbeat through it. The tip leaked fluid that left a sticky spot on her skin. She reached down between them, her body shaking, unable to keep her hand away from his cock. It jerked when her fingers made contact with the shaft. More fluid pulsed from its tip. She wrapped one hand around it, feeling the pliancy, the unnatural warmth. It was still wet with Kate’s juices and wonderfully slippery. She ran her hand along its length and was rewarded by a guttural moan from Jim.

His hands kept moving across her body, tracing the underside of one breast, playing with the waistband of her thong. She rubbed the tip of his cock with her thumb then stroked its full length again.

“Christ,” Jim said, breathing raggedly. “That feels …”

She squeezed hard when her hand reached the crown.

“I think about you when I’m fucking your sister,” he said hoarsely.

Yvonne rolled her eyes. “Shut up, Jim. You’re making it worse.”

She rubbed him faster. Her other hand roamed across his chest, playing with the sparse hairs, scraping his nipples with her long fingernails. Jim was past being able to speak. His movements turned frantic. He stuck his hand underneath her waistband, cupping her mound, working his fingers through the soft pubic hair.

“Yes!” she said urgently, before she could stop herself.

Jim responded eagerly, moving his hand along her outer lips. His touches made liquid sounds as he smeared her moisture around her folds. She could feel her lips puffing up, begging to be stroked, penetrated. And … oh my god, she thought. He’s touching my …

Her clit had hardened, poked out from inside her hood, and Jim’s finger had found it. She rocked forward, driving her hips harder into his hand. Her breasts pressed flat against his chest as Jim circled her clit with one finger. She couldn’t catch her breath. The feeling was too intense; it just had to stop or she’d have to scream. And then it did stop. Jim had taken his hand out of her panties and stepped back. Yvonne groaned with disappointment. He looked at her for a second, nostrils flaring, then he took hold of the sides of her panties and started to pull them down. Yvonne made a small, frightened whimper and grabbed at the waistband, keeping them more or less where they were.