Latest Forum Posts:

Categories

The Realtor's Agent

The summer was going to be hot. I had no idea how hot until . .

It was going to be a hot summer. School was out and I needed a summer job. Unfortunately, because I waited until the middle of May;all the good summer jobs were already taken. I didn’t want to get stuck mowing lawns again for the summer, even though as a strapping nineteen year old guy, I had no problem with manual labor.

One of my dad’s business buddies got a job transfer and placed his house up for sale. He hired a real estate agent to sell the house but asked if I would keep an eye on the house and mow the yard every month until the house sold, so he wouldn’t have to pay the real estate agent to have it done. He said he’s pay me $100 a month and that I could use the backyard pool if I wanted to.

It was an easy hundred dollars. The first time I went to check out the house, which overlooked a golf course, I thought I had stepped into a mansion. The patio pool was cool. Ted, the guy who owned the house, had left a mower in the garage for me to use. I think it took me all of about thirty minutes to mow and do some edging. Afterwards, I stepped on to the patio area and surveyed the pool. I was hot and sweaty, so I stripped down to my underwear and then slipped into the pool, which was a bit chilly at first, but felt good.

I sat on one of the chase lounge chairs on the deck, sun drying myself, afterwards. The pool was rather secluded, but faced the golf course, so I was careful to not make myself too obvious.

My routine went on like this for several weeks. Then one day, as I was sun-drying myself off pool side, in my bikini brief underwear, I heard a female voice say, “I’m sorry,”

It was the real estate agent. She had stopped by the house to check it out before doing a showing and she had stumbled upon me laying out at the pool. I think I jumped about a foot when I heard her voice.

I turned to see a rather nice-looking woman that I guessed was in her early thirties, impeccably dressed in heels, a short skirt and a button down white shirt, standing in the threshold of the doorway that lead from the kitchen area and out to the patio and the pool area

I quickly introduced myself, as I stood by the pool chair, trying to use the upright portion of it to shield myself. There was no way I could adequately hide my best assets, so I simply tried to explain my presence by introducing myself.

“Ted said it would be OK for me to use the pool as part of my time mowing and doing the yard work,” I explained.

“OK, I see,” the agent replied. She explained she had a three o-clock showing and that she simply was checking on the house to insure everything was in order.

“Will you be gone by then?” she asked, as she stepped out on to the patio. Her eyes glanced towards my crotch. Whoops. She quickly looked out at the golf course.

“Sure,” I quickly replied.

“How often do you come over here?” she asked.

“Once a week,” I replied, grabbing my jeans and casually slipping them on as she stood and chatted with me.

I could tell our encounter was an awkward one, because she purposefully kept her eyes on the golf course as we chatted, and I dressed.

“I was just asking,” she replied, “As I don’t want to schedule a client visit when you are here.”

I told her that I usually come by in the early evenings, but that I came early today because I was going out with friends later.

“I see,” she replied, glancing back in my direction. She made her way to the threshold and stepped into the house.

I stepped inside behind her.

“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I didn’t catch your name.”

She said her name was Amy Rothschild. She extended her hand very business-like as I stood shirtless and barefoot in the doorway. We shook hands and I asked her how much the house was selling for.

“Four hundred fifty,” she replied. “That’s what Ted wants for it, but he’ll be lucky if he gets three.”

I was shocked at the selling price for the house. I knew it was a six bedroom and overlooked a golf course and all, but $450,000 seemed a bit much to me.

Amy agreed.

“I’m just the show girl,” Amy replied.

“Show girl?”

I was not used to the real estate lingo. I soon learned that Amy was simply a showing agent for the realtor. She said it was her job to present the property to a prospective buyer and that the real estate agent would be the one to close the deal.

Amy glanced out the window as we chatted. She seemed nervous, scratching at her neck, then taking a step in towards the kitchen, then checking her cell phone.

“What time is it?” I asked.

It was close to two thirty. I told Amy that I needed to grab my shirt and my shoes and that I’d be on my way. She casually asked if I had a contact number.

“Sure,” I replied. She took out her cell phone and entered my cell number as I called it out to her.

I just want to make sure there are no conflicts,” Amy added, after punching in my digits. She scrolled through her messages.

Suddenly, her shoulders slumped, and I could sense she was not happy, as she stared blankly at her cell phone.

“The three o’clock just cancelled,” she said. “I hate it when they cancel at the last minute.”

“Sorry,” I proffered, seeing the disappointment crossing her face.

“Stuff happens,” Amy replied. She casually stepped out of her heels and placed them on to the countertop of the pass through to the kitchen. She scrolled through her messages as I stood by, trying to decide if I could stay or if I should leave.

“So, are there are more showings today?” I inquired.

“No,” she casually replied. “This is it for me today.”

“We should go for a swim,” I said. I don’t know why I said it. It just seemed like a natural and nice thing to offer.

She glanced out the window for a split second, as I crossed my arms and leaned against the threshold of the doorway leading out to the pool.

“The water feels good,” I said temptingly.

I could see her thinking. It was as if time stood still. She stepped towards the doorway where I stood and peered past me at the pool. She then looked at me and I saw the corners of her mouth curl into a smile. She nervously scratched her ear and bit down on the knuckle of her left hand.

“I hope I don’t regret this,” she said softly, placing her hand on my bare chest. “You seem like a nice guy. You are a nice guy, right?”

“I am a very nice guy,” I replied, stepping to the side, allowing her to pass through the door and into the patio area.

“You better not be a freak,” she said as she stepped over to the edge of the pool and dipped the toes of her bare foot into the water. She turned and faced me. She pulled her blouse out of her skirt and slowly unbuttoned it as I stood in the threshold of the doorway and watched.

Amy looked in my direction.

“Are you getting in?” she asked as she set her blouse on the back of the chase lounge chair.

My eyes were fixated on her 38dd’s that were barely contained in her brassiere. Amy snapped her fingers and smiled.

“Come on dude,” she intoned. “You can’t swim in your jeans.”

There was no way I would be able to hide my obvious excitement and my erection. I walked over to the chaise lounge as she unzipped her short skirt and let it fall to ankles and the pool deck. Her black, shoe string t-back panties barely covered what needed to be covered. She reached behind her back and unfastened her brassiere, and then slipped the spaghetti straps down her arms, uncapping her massive mammaries with their light tan areolas and hardened nipples. She tossed her bra on to the chair and then using her hands, she self-massaged her breasts while turning to look into the pool.

I stripped out of my jeans and quickly into the pool.

Amy smiled as she sat down on the edge of the pool, her feet dangling in the water.

I dunked myself under the water.

I looked in Amy’s direction and asked if she was OK.

“Yeah,” she replied, “I’m just trying to decide if I go commando or not.”

“It depends on if you want to wear wet panties on your way home,” I jokingly replied.

“I could always go pantiless,” Amy snapped back. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

I waded in her direction. She was so freaking hot. As I got closer, I reached out and using my hand, tapped the inside of her knee. Instinctively, she spread her knees and I stepped between them. She made no attempt to avoid my advances.

I reached up and looped a finger into each side of her t-back and gently pulled them down her hips. She placed her hands on to the pool deck, and lifted her ass, so I could slide them down her thighs, past her knees and then past her ankles.

I tossed the t-back on to the side of the pool. I took a step back and holding on to her ankles, I proffered a wink in her direction. She silently slipped into the pool and I slipped my hands around her soft waist. She stared straight into my eyes. Her hands found their way to my chest.

“Why am I the only one naked?” she asked.

I chuckled and took a step backwards. I slipped out of my bikini underwear and watched as it floated just under the top of the water.

Amy took a step closer to where I stood and silently wrapped her hand around my stiffy. I took in a deep breath and exhaled.

We made our way to the side of the pool. Neither of us said a word. We found ourselves locked in a deep-throated and passionate kiss, mauling and pawing at each other as the pool water lapped around us.

“Make love to me,” Amy whispered.

She pulled herself out of the pool and I followed. Neither of us had given any thought to anything other than pleasing the other, right there in the fresh cut grass beside the pool.

Afterwards, we both lay on our backs, staring up at the sun, totally spent and exhausted. Amy’s phone was buzzing away. She grabbed it and studied it for a few seconds.

“I have to go,” she declared. “I’ve got to get something going for my husband for dinner.”

I was shocked. The thought that she might be married, never crossed my mind. I hadn’t seen a wedding band on her hand, so I had assumed she was single. Amy chuckled at the look on my face.

“Yeah,” she said, as she redressed, and slipped back into her stilettos, “I am married, but even married bitches need a good fuck every now and then.”

She grabbed her phone and looked in my direction.

“Maybe, more than ‘every now and then’,” she declared, proffering a wink. She tossed me her t-back and I caught it in flight.

“Hold on to these for me. I’ll get them from you next week.”

She stepped out of the front door of the large empty house, leaving me alone to my thoughts. I stared at the small piece of undergarment in my hand.

Wow. The summer was going to be hot, but fun.

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

To link to this sex story from your site - please use the following code:

<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/occupations/the-realtors-agent.aspx">The Realtor's Agent</a>

Comments (12)

Tell us why

Please tell us why you think this story should be removed.

Reason