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Pool Cleaning Day

I knew it was gonna be a hot day when I woke up this morning, but little did I know, how hot.

I woke up late Tuesday, and suddenly remembered it was pool-cleaning day. I could hear the locusts, and knew it was going to be another hot day. I put on a jockstrap and my swim trunks, the black denim ones made like shorts with the Red Cross Swim Instructor’s badge sewn on, and dug around in the bottom drawer for a tee shirt that wasn’t full of holes. A pair of tennis shoes, and I was dressed for the day. On my way to the back door, I stopped and grabbed the pitcher of OJ from the refrigerator.

Looking out the kitchen window, I saw that both cars were gone. Good, I thought. Mom and Dad are both working today. I can drink from the pitcher. So I tipped it to my mouth and took three big gulps. Putting it back in the fridge, I grabbed my car keys and headed for the door. Then I thought, It’s silly to use the car just to run across the street and up that long driveway to their house. I’ll just ride my bicycle.

I went out the back door, and snagged a dry towel off the line. Holding it by one corner, I twirled it into a loose roll, and tied it around my neck. Then I got the bicycle out of the garage, and checked the air in the tires. The rear one was a little soft, but I figured it would do for the short ½ mile up to the Berk’s house and back.

When I got there, I went right ‘round to the back of the house. No point in going to the front door, I thought. The pool’s back here, and if Mrs. Berk wants to tell me anything, she’ll see me from the bedroom or the kitchen. I took the towel from around my neck and threw it over the back of the chaise. I took off my tee shirt, and dried the back of my neck before I threw it in a heap on the chaise.

It really was going to be a hot day, I could tell, because even that short ride had built up a sweat. I sat on the end of the chaise and started to take off my shoes, but the concrete felt hot on my bare foot, so I put the left one back on, but left the laces untied on both feet. Then, as I stood up, I thought, Oh yeah, Stupid. That’s just what you need. Trip yourself, and get knocked out and fall into the pool with no one around to fish your ass out. I stooped over and tied my shoes.

I am getting a little ahead of myself here, I guess. This was the summer of 1962. I was 18 and had just graduated from high school. I was working odd jobs, mowing lawns, and helping the neighbor, Jim Parks, as a mason’s tender, when he had small brick and stone jobs. Mrs. Berk had asked last year, after I earned my instructor’s certificate, if I might be interested in taking care of her pool this summer, and giving her kids swimming lessons, in exchange for being able to use it.

Being a typical eighteen-year old, I had jumped at the chance. The kids were a kind of a pain, but I had been babysitting them for the past four years, and pretty much knew how to control them. Jeffery, the eldest, was 8, and was basically a good kid, so long as you kept your thumb firmly on top of his pointy little head. His sister, Jennifer was just 6, and wanted to please everybody. She was a real loveable kid, and Conrad was only 4, so he was easy to deal with. I had once seen Lane Berk in a bathing suit, and even though she was older than I by twenty years or more, I thought she was still pretty hot. Her husband, Bern was a little daunting, though, so I was always careful to keep my thoughts and my glances to myself whenever he was around.

So there I was, getting ready to clean the pool, when I heard a car pulling into the drive. Figuring it was just the maid arriving by taxi, I kept right on, at what I was doing.

I opened the hatch, and was pulling out the filter to hose it off, when I heard Mrs. Berk say, “Well, sleepyhead. I’d have thought you’d have been here earlier, to try to beat the heat.”

I stood up, and turned around to face her. She was wearing a white sundress with big blue flowers on it. It reminded me of a Hawaiian shirt, only with boobs and a halter-top. The neckline was open in a deep vee, and I really wished she’d sit down, so I could get a look at her breasts. It didn’t look like she was wearing a bra. I thought I could detect a hint of nipples, but the folds of the dress made it uncertain. could feel a familiar tightening in my crotch, and was glad that I was wearing a jockstrap.

“Yes, Ma’am, I would have, but I stayed up late last night, listening to the Harley Show on WBAL, and after that, the Modern Jazz Hour on WFBR, so didn’t get to sleep until 1 this morning. I heard a great new record called ‘Bags and Trane’. Milt Jackson and John Coltrane. Next week, after I get paid, I’m going to go to Towson Records and see if they have a copy, or can order it for me. Where are the kids? I figured they’d be out here by now, bugging me to hurry up and finish, so they could swim.”

“I just got back from dropping them off at their grandparent’s house. Bern and I decided we needed a break from parenting for a few days. He was going to take today off, but got an emergency call from one of his patients who broke a molar. I told him that you’d be over today to clean the pool, so he decided to work today, and take the rest of the week off, instead of going back into the office on Friday.”

“Well, that makes sense,” I replied. “Might as well string a couple of days off right into the weekend. I’d better get back to work. I don’t think this filter is gonna hose itself off.”

“After you get done cleaning, I think I’ll come out and take a dip myself,” she said, as she turned to go into the house.

I watched her walk to the bedroom door, and wondered if she’d be wearing the white swimsuit I had seen her in last summer. A slight breeze caught her dress, and it clung to the backs of her legs as she walked away. Man! I thought. She has a great ass. My cock was definitely beginning to harden now, and I adjusted the jewels before I went back to pulling the filters out. I hosed off all the white junk on the filters, and put them back in, and added some diatomaceous earth to top it off, then closed the hatch. Then I tested the water for pH. It was well within range, so I didn’t add any chlorine tablets.

I made a mental note to tell Mrs. Berk to add some tonight, after everybody was done swimming for the day. Then I uncoiled the hose, and commenced the drudgery of vacuuming. Fortunately, the pool wasn’t too bad; I didn’t have to do any scrubbing, or make double passes. I thanked my lucky stars for that. It was getting really hot, and I was dripping sweat. I could feel the droplets run down my back and into the crack of my ass as I worked. Charlie Parker’s tune, Scrapple from the Apple was running through my head, and I was whistling as I pushed the vacuum head to and fro across the bottom and walls of the pool.

I had just finished the shallow end, and was beginning to take in the hose and coil it when Mrs. Berk came back out the bedroom door. She was wearing the white suit I remembered, and carrying suntan lotion and a huge towel. (Being a kid of modest income, I had never seen a full-sized bath sheet.)

“Oh, I see you’re just about finished,” she said, as she spread her towel over the second chaise, “I’m going to go make myself a drink. Would you like one?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied, “It gets plenty thirsty out here in the sun, and with the pool water right there, it just seems worse.”

“Well, I’ll bring you a glass of water for that. I don’t think you ought to try to quench a big thirst with gin and tonic,” she said, and then winked.

I stood there, dumfounded. Gin and tonic??? And did she just wink, or is my imagination playing tricks on me? Although my mind was racing, I retained enough presence to simply say, “Thank you.”

I watched her back as she walked to the kitchen door, and went inside. What is going on here? I wondered. Is what I think is going to happen, going to happen? Damn! I finished putting the hose and vacuum head away, and all I could think about was that ass in her white one-piece bathing suit, and she WINKED at me!

In a few minutes, she reappeared at the kitchen door, carrying a tray, with two-pint glasses of gin and tonic and a glass of ice water with lemon in it.

“Do me a favor, and come in and grab my cigarettes and lighter off the kitchen counter,” she said. “I forgot to put them on the tray.”

She stood in the doorway, holding the door, as I walked over. I started through the door, and she said, “Oh, and grab an ashtray out of the cupboard over the sink, too, if you don’t mind.”

I went into the kitchen and got the things she asked for, and went back out by the pool.

She had set the tray of drinks on the table, between the chaise lounges, and was lying back on one.

She said, “If you want to take a dip to cool off, you may as well stick around. There isn’t anything going on today. No one is coming, and if you want to stay and swim, that would be fine. I know you’re only 18, but I assumed you’d like a gin and tonic. You DO drink, don’t you? And I don’t think one will make a whole lot of difference. We don’t need to tell anyone. It will be our little secret. Can you keep a secret?”

And she opened her eyes wide and looked straight into mine. Her eyes were jet black, and I could have fallen right into those pools.

“Ma’am?” I said, still a little shaken up.

“Please stop Ma’am-ing me. It makes me feel old. Call me Lane. That is my name, you know.”

“Ok, if that’s what you want, Ma …….um…..Lane.”

I had never met an adult who wished to be addressed by his or her given name. It felt both a little strange, and at the same time heady, and grown up.

“Actually, what I really want,” she said, ”is for someone to put some suntan lotion on my back. Would you mind doing the honors?”

“Sure.” As I walked over to her, she rolled onto her stomach.

I caught a flash of pubic hair peeking out from around the edge of the leg band in her crotch as she did. Her crotch looked dark, as if it was damp. Probably just the heat, I thought. Or my imagination again. I squirted a generous dollop of lotion down the center of her back, and started rubbing it to each side, trying to get an even coat.

“Make sure you get it even all over,” she said.

“Um, I’m trying, but your … uh….your bathing suit straps are in the way.”

“Oh that, “ s he said, and reaching up with both hands peeled them down. Then she took her elbows out of them entirely, and pulled the straps toward the sides.

I thought, If she rolls over, her tits are gonna fall out. Boy, would I like to see that. But what I said was, “Ok. That’s better.”

“You didn’t answer me. I asked if you can keep a secret,” she said. “And hand me my drink, please. I don’t want to roll over and get wet tanning lotion all over these cushions.”

“Yes. I can keep a secret,” I said. “Do you want to tell me one?”

“Sort of,” she replied, and went on, “Bern and I usually don’t bother with bathing suits out here. There isn’t any way anyone could come by without our hearing him on the gravel drive, and no one but the sheep can see us from the back yard. So if it doesn’t offend you, I’d just as soon shed this suit.”

“No, I’d like it!” I blurted out, and immediately felt stupid.

She chuckled deep in her throat and said, “I thought you might. Here, hold my drink.” She handed the drink to me and stood up.

The top of the bathing suit was around her waist, and her breasts stood out firm and full. There were small but dark aureola, and her nipples were standing proud, like two pencil erasers. I felt weak in the knees and sat down on her chaise, staring at her. I was still holding the drinks in both hands, and she reached down and took them from me, gently.

“Close your mouth; your tongue will get sunburned,” she said, and grinned. She turned and set the drinks on the table. Turning and standing straight in front of me, she asked, “Would you like to peel a tomato?”

I didn’t need any more urging. I placed my hands at her waist, and eased my fingers into the lower half of the suit, pulling it down around her legs. Her vulva was covered in dark hair, the same as the hair on her head, only curlier. A faint whiff of musk drifted from her. I took a deep breath, and bent forward to pull the suit down over her knees, letting it fall to the concrete at her ankles.

She stepped out of it, kicked it up into the air with one foot, and caught it. She laid it on the concrete in the shade under the edge of the chaise. As she stood up again, she said, “That feels much better. Would you care to join me?”

“Sure,” I said, suddenly feeling very bold.

I stood up and reached around her to the table for my drink. As I did, my arm lightly brushed against her waist, and she made a slight humming sound and leaned into it a little. I took the drink, and had a big swig.

Setting the glass down, I asked, “Do you want to do it? Remove my bathing suit, I mean,” I added quickly.

She threw her head back and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, perplexed at this sudden turn.

“You are. Are you really this nervous? Haven’t you ever been around nude people before?”

“Only my mom and dad. And girls at school, but that was when we were… um…getting ready to…um….”

“Fuck?” she interrupted. Then, “That’s okay. You can say it. It is called that. There’s no reason to hide it behind all sorts of platitudes and innuendo, as if it was something dirty.” She went on, “Oh Bern and I don’t say it in front of the kids. But when they’re older, and able to understand when they can and can’t say it, we will.”

“Yeah,” I replied, “fuck. They saw me naked when we were getting ready to fuck. And of course, the guys in gym class in the showers, but that’s different.”

“No females around, you mean.”

And she reached out with both hands, and undid the button at the waistband of my trunks. My cock was throbbing now, pressing against the constraint of my jockstrap. She slid the zipper down, and grabbing the trunks by the bottoms of the legs, slid them down.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “Le minimum! I haven’t seen one of those since Bern and I went to the coast of France. Well, we might as well remove that too, don’t you think?”

Without waiting for a reply, she slipped her fingers into the waistband of my jockstrap and slid it down around my knees.

My cock jumped straight out, and stood there, bobbing in the summer sun. I could feel the warmth of the sun on the head as the foreskin, suddenly released, began to slide back.

“Oh goodness,” she said. “That’s gonna get sunburned. We’d better put some lotion on it.”

So saying, she grabbed up the bottle of suntan lotion, and began lubricating my now completely engorged shaft.

Her fingers felt so cool, and the lotion so slippery, as she rubbed it up and down the entire length. I closed my eyes, and sighed a deep sigh.

“You need lotion here, too,” she said, and I felt cold against my testicles, that quickly became warm as she massaged lotion into my sack. All the while, her other hand had not stopped its motion on my cock.

I could feel the familiar tingling, and knew if she kept it up, I was going to cum. I moaned, and she gripped it more tightly as she stroked it.

“Oh God,” I said, and my breathing became more ragged.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked.

“Oh, Jesus no,” I said. “That feels so good…..and….I’m….oh fuck…..I’m gonna cum. Oh shit….oh, Jesus…….oh……oh……AGGGGGGGGGH” I could feel my cum spurt and it just kept spurting and spurting, as she slowed her hand, and milked the last few drops out onto the concrete.

She released it then, as it began to go limp, and picking up her towel, wiped some cum off her arm.

As she did so, she said, “There’s time enough later for tasting."

She lay back on the chaise, and taking a sip of her drink, said, “Well, that part won’t get sunburned now. Would you please put some lotion on me, too.”

I thought she’d never ask. I squirted some into the palm of each hand, and began rubbing it into her shoulders and upper chest. As I began to rub it onto her breasts, I could hear her breathing getting faster, and when I touched her nipple, she moaned. She was moving her legs now, and I forgot all about the lotion. I put my hand on her vulva, and she pressed upward into it. I slipped two fingers downward to her outer lips, and she was soaking wet. Gently I rubbed her pussy juice in ever widening circles, until I was parting her lips, and sliding two fingers in and out, just at the edge of her entrance.

She grabbed my hand, and pulled it to her mouth. Putting my two fingers in her mouth, she sucked her liquid from them.

Then she said, “You could do that all day, but I need for you to rub my clitoris, and put two fingers inside, and press on my G spot. I need to cum, too.”

I didn’t want to confess my ignorance, so I put my hand back where it had been.

“Let me help you.” was all she said. “Put two fingers in about to the second knuckle, and move them back and forth, like you are making a ‘come here’ motion. Oh, God, yes! Like that!” After a minute, and her breathing was getting really ragged, she said, “Oh…now…..put your thu………oh……your thumb……oh fuck…..thumb up, and feel …….oh shit……feel for the little ………….ah………..ohhh………..button. OH Jesus! Yes. YES! YES! Llike that….oh fuck don’t…..oh don’t stop….oh fuck…….I’m cumming……….I’m cummmmmingggggggg!!”

I could feel her vagina clamp down around my fingers. I thought they were going to break. Her stomach rippled, and she started shaking all over. Suddenly there was a gush of liquid that soaked my entire hand and wrist. As soon as she relaxed a little, I started to pull my fingers out.

“Oh no, wait” she said. “Just stay there, still, and don’t move for a minute.” And then, “Oh Jesus! I haven’t had a squirting orgasm like that in ages. Damn. Whew. Lordy. Ah. Wow.” And then she started laughing. After she regained her breath, she said, “Let’s go for a swim. And then afterward, we’ll see if you can really fuck.”

Well – I knew it was gonna be a hot day when I woke up this morning, I thought to myself, as I walked over to the diving board.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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