The pool boy, wearing very short frayed denim cutoffs that barely reached the bottom of his butt, and a flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves, and a shapeless, much worn red baseball cap turned backwards, was using a long pole with a screen on the end, apparently fishing out stray leaves, and turned toward Emily's voice. Emily was at first confused, expecting to see a teen boy with black hair and latino features.
Instead, she was gazing into the deep green eyes of a young blonde girl, her hair cut as short as a boy's. She was lanky and coltish, barely different in shape from a teen boy, her chest nearly flat and her ass small, but round. She was wearing a garishly colored, cheap bikini top over her tiny breasts, her stomach and midriff below it lightly tanned.
"Oh!" the girl exclaimed in a surprised voice, sounding deeper and older than Emily had first thought. "I thought I was alone...I let myself into the pool area with the key you gave us..."
She stopped, waiting for Emily to respond, her look slightly frightened as though she expected to be accused of doing something wrong.
Emily took a few steps closer to the girl. She had fine features, definitely female even if not appearing quite done with adolescence.
"She really is rather pretty," Emily thought, believing her opinion to be strictly the product of her eye for fine art, jewelry and things. Still, though, she felt an unexpected trickle of sweat roll down from her brow and another between her breasts.
She wiped away the irritating perspiration at her eyes. "Are you old enough to be working out here?" she asked, not unkindly, but frankly curious. "What happened to the regular man, is he on vacation?"
Emily thought that she saw a very fleeting nanosecond of contempt flash across the girl's pretty face, her blonde bangs matted to her forehead by her own sweat.
Yet the girl smiled, a warm look spreading across her cute face. "Oh, I'm 18 if that's what you're worried about. And as for the man" - here the girl looked as though she'd bitten into something foul - "No," the girl said forcefully, her eyes widening at the tale she would be relating, and relishing the fact that she was the source of news. "Silvio was electrocuted when he was repairing a pool pump at a house in West Palm Beach. He's dead." She paused.
"Um, the boss asked me to cover Silvio's route for a while, at least handle the routine stuff. But I don't do pump repairs!" Emily supposed that the girl wished to remove herself from activities that had so recently injured her predecessor.
"Well, I'm very sorry to hear that." After waiting a few beats, Emily offered, "I'm Mrs. Adams, Emily."
"Oh, I'm Belle, Belle Erickson," responded the young girl, looking more and more lovely to Emily, and when the girl brashly offered her hand, Emily flashed to a vision of one of her mysterious dreams of the last few nights, seeing this girl, or one very much like her in this setting, but little more. Emily recovered from her shock in time to take the girl's hand, finding the blonde teen's grip surprisingly strong, but her skin smooth and soft.
The two females stood staring at each other for a heartbeat, then Emily said, "Well, I've got to go back in."
"Yes, ma'am," the girl responded, her lovely green eyes holding Emily's. Emily felt a small pang at being called 'ma'am,' as she, like most people, saw herself as younger than others would. Emily turned and walked to the french doors to the pool area, fumbling a little clumsily at the knob, then turning to see the girl still looking at her, the girl then fixing a polite smile when Emily paused.
Emily reluctantly pulled her eyes away from the girl's, finding them hypnotic, and entered the shade of the house. "She really is beautiful," Emily thought, then dismissed - or tried to anyway - the notion.
"Are you developing a crush on someone, or just admiring a work of art?" she asked herself soundlessly, ignoring the fact that it was a female - no matter how androgynous - that was catching her eye. She walked over to the window, certain that the girl standing in the glare of the Florida sun wouldn't be able to make out her shape, hidden by the shadows inside the house.
The girl stared at the door that Emily had passed through for a few seconds, then returned to her task, her rhythmic dipping of the net into the pool and the subsequent dumping of a few sodden and folded maple leaves onto the pool deck, over and over again without variation or hesitation, seeming to Emily to be a beautiful tone poem celebrating the artistry of the common worker, missing only the music.
Emily sighed, and then experienced a shock as she felt something stroking her vulva from outside her gym shorts, but inside the robe. She looked down to see her own right hand, for the time being an independent contractor, stroking her french cut nails along her labia, and pressing into the camel toe of her panties, wetting the fabric.
She allowed her fingers to continue their stroking, and she was surprised how rapidly her first orgasm overtook her. "Ohh," she moaned, biting her lip, her knees almost buckling.
She had orgasmed with James of course - more in the early years of their marriage, but still occasionally - but never as powerfully as this. She felt a wetness on her chin and using her left hand, found a thread of spittle there.
"Oh my," she marveled, a little concerned at her loss of control, but also a little pleased with herself. "I'm still a wild young woman," she thought. "Make that a wild young girl."
It was perhaps ten minutes later that it struck Emily that this would be a perfect time to use the pool - being recently cleaned, of course. She hurried to the bedroom and picked out her sexiest swim suit, a dark green Heavy Crystal posing bikini from Pink Label Bikinis. She hurried downstairs, bringing with her not one, but two oversized and thick Harbour Island beach towels.
She opened the door and was happy to see that Belle was still out working.
"Belle, um," she said. "It's so terribly hot...would you like to use the pool? I was just going to take a dip myself..." her heart was beating harder than it had when Jamie Barrows had asked her to her senior prom in high school back in Pensacola.
Belle turned and made a show of wiping sweat off her forehead. "Do you think it would be alright?' she asked in response.
"I don't see why not, it's my pool," Emily laughed, feeling almost girlish.
"Okay," the girl laughed. "I won't turn down that invitation." She immediately set down the net tool on the deck, and then stretched, her body looking slim and sinuous as she threw her arms back and above her head. Her hat fell to the deck and Emily saw that the girl's very short hair was thick and shiny, surprising to see in someone who you would expect to be in chlorinated or salt water so much.
Then Belle began peeling the flannel shirt off her shoulders, her muscles there thick like those of a tennis player.
"I suppose constantly using that pole thing would give you muscles," Emily thought, as she admired the girl's slim, svelte and muscular yet feminine body. Belle shrugged her arms out of the wrinkled long flannel sleeves, the shirt dropping to her waist, caught on the belt loops of the cutoffs, and then to the deck.
Belle's upper body was respectably tan, but nothing like you would expect from someone who worked in the sun all day. Still, Emily wasn't complaining - the cute young girl could easily be a model for young athletic femininity, and Emily could feel a tingle in her vulva. "How odd," she thought. Emily couldn't stop staring at the girl's chest, so boyish and nearly flat.
"I wonder what her nipples look like," Emily briefly mused, but dismissed the thought as "strange."
Then Belle unhooked the brass rivet at the top of her tiny cutoffs, and Emily first gasped as the fabric slipped down revealing more flesh. To Emily's consternation - and excitement - a thin pair of small, worn white panties came into view. Belle noticed Emily looking at her, and shrugged.
"I wasn't planning on going swimming, is it okay if I just wear my panties?"
"You look very lovely," Emily responded, which gave her the excuse to continue looking at Belle's slim, almost skinny thighs and shapely calves, lightly muscled. The panties barely concealed Belle's body, in fact, they made her look almost seductive, and when Belle turned, Emily appreciated how the fabric framed the girl's small, round buns.
"What's happening to me?" Emily thought, her clit itself now tingling as though she were building to an orgasm. She stepped into the pool, making her way deeper into the warm water, until it was lapping at her knees.
She turned to watch Belle enter, but instead of walking in, Belle just dove in, her slim body describing a perfect arc as she executed a dive nearly worthy of the Olympics. Emily's mind's eye recorded the arc of flashing pink female body, and she knew with certainty that she'd be replaying the moment later, when she was alone.
Belle came up for air, snorting and sneezing comically to clear her nose, as Emily laughed, then submerged again to swim over to the stairs close to Emily. Belle stood in the blue-tinged crystal clear water, just a few feet from Emily and facing her, clear water rushing off her cream in coffee body, and to Emily's shock, the young girl's sheer panties were now completely transparent, the girl's completely smooth and shaved pussy quite clear to see.
