Kylie got off as much on the secrecy of her private sex life as she did from the sex itself. Ever since she'd started fucking with the hired help she'd felt young and beautiful again. Her husband Steve had been obsessed with pool maintenance lately and a constant string of young, hot, taut bodies had been parading through her backyard on a regular basis. Kylie had sampled them all. The sex was usually fair, occasionally good, but the thought of fucking over her husband was enough to make if feel fantastic to her. She thought of pathetic Steve, balding and chubby, working hard at the office all day and coming home expecting to find her lonely and missing him.
Ha!
She was getting almost as much sex as she had in college, with college age kids, mostly. Every time one of their young cocks exploded inside her she would smile and think about poor, oblivious Steve. Yesterday she'd sucked the poolboy off, letting him cum in her throat and swallowing it down, something she'd never once allowed Steve to do. She felt naughty and good and bad and free, for the first time in years. She'd almost cum herself right there, thinking of the look on Steve's face if he could have seen her. He probably wouldn't even have done anything even if he did catch her. He was such a wimp.
So far as she knew, there was no poolboy coming today. Kylie wondered how she'd pass the time. Maybe she'd go get her hair done.
Bbrt.
Her phone vibrated and she picked it up. It was a text from Steve.
"Hunny, the maid said the washer has been acting up so there will be a maytag repairman coming around 2. can you sign for me xoxo steve"
Kylie rolled her eyes. Typical. Just when she wanted to go out and get something done, Steve saddled her with some ridiculous household chore. Still... She wondered if the maytag repairman would be attractive. She snickered to herself. She was becoming positively slutty with all this sex! Once she'd started to have it again she wanted more, more, more.
She looked at the clock. 1:45. Well, that would give her just enough time to touch up her makeup and slip into something more... comfortable. She put on a sheer negligee, appropriately colored scarlet, and some high high heels. Reapplying her lipstick and mascara, she studied herself in the mirror. Yes, she still had it. Blowing a kiss at herself, she strutted to the living room to wait.
Before long there was a knock at the door, and Kylie was taken aback when she opened it. The man was wearing the proper uniform, yes, but he looked more like he belonged on a stage than under a washing machine.
He was tall, well over six feet, and his blonde hair was clearly natural, thick and glinting in the sunlight. It had a slight wave to it, and he wore it short and styled fashionably. His handsome face was enhanced by his piercing ice-blue eyes, ringed with thick brown lashes, hovering above a perfect aquiline nose and a slightly thinner top lip that sat above a plump lower one. Kylie wanted to bite it. He resembled a young Brad Pitt, but with even more muscles. The sleeves of his uniform were stretched tight over his bulging biceps, his forearms the size of an ordinary man's biceps. His chest was large and solid looking, his stomach clearly chiseled and firm, the uniform again stretched to its limits as it lovingly caressed his form. Dropping her eyes lower, Kylie took in the sizable bulge in his pants, and his powerful, muscular thighs. His calves were also large, his pants noticeably clinging to them.
