Kayla and the Pool Boy

"Uh, stain successfully conquered?" I said, sounding timid.

"I guess we'll see tomorrow," Logan laughed assuredly. "While we were over there, Tammy took me down to the wine cellar. I found it quite inspiring, like, maybe I could get into wine."

Tammy seemed to shift in her seat as she issued a nervous laugh.

Just then, Kayla returned and sat down across from me, holding her wine. I heard the familiar sound of her shoes dropping onto the floor, then she put one long foot up on the table, her bare sole facing me. Her other leg formed a triangle above it as she suggestively slid her foot back and forth atop her shin.

I thought of my many trips abroad and how showing the bottom of one's foot was considered deeply offensive and disrespectful in at least half the world. As a well-traveled person, Kayla would know that too.

"It's a good thing you guys left us alone for a few minutes," Kayla began, then she looked at me with piercing eyes. "Dave's agreed to let me train him, too."

I suddenly realized she was testing my submission; her crude manners, her presumption that I would agree to her training. Could I possibly resist her now?

I'm Kayla's little bitch.

"I can't wait to start," I said, looking down shamefully, breaking her gaze.

"That's great, honey," Tammy said in an encouraging voice.

I startled as she placed a hand on my arm. I was a bundle of nerves.

"So shall we finally taste my dad's wine?" Kayla suggested with a touch of impatience. "What was it you said earlier, Dave, about your weakness for full-bodied..."

"Um, yeah," I interrupted, catching her intimation.

I'm Kayla's little bitch.

I picked up my glass and peered at its contents. The pallor and texture seemed off...

"Something I didn't mention earlier is that the winery is actually held in my trust, which I gain stewardship of when I turn 30 next year," Kayla explained with a smirk. "So, I guess technically this is my wine."

"Well, that makes it all the more special then," Tammy chimed in.

Kayla removed her legs from the table and sat up straight.

"May I propose a toast?" she stated, gathering me in her gaze again.

I felt butterflies in my stomach as I worried what she might say, whether she would somehow expose what just happened between us.

"To Daddy," Kayla declared.

"To Daddy!" we said in unison, clinking our glasses.

Kayla's my Daddy.

We all sniffed, then took a long sip. There was definitely something off about mine. I caught a familiar flavor, one that had only recently been on my tongue. I recalled the taste of Kayla's kiss after she sampled my cum, and how after she slurped up the remainder from my chest she chased it with my wine. Or rather, I realized with disgust, she spat it in my glass.

I glanced up to see Kayla staring at me intently, a sly grin on her face. She cocked her head slightly, as if waiting for me to react.

I realized she was challenging me again, validating that her latest bronco had indeed been broken. My mind flashed with possibilities...coughing out the liquid, dropping the glass, spilling its contents. But instead, I felt a floating sensation. The euphoria of defeat.

I'm Kayla's little bitch.

I swished and a string of semen slid through my teeth. I did everything I could not to gag, trying to focus instead on the flavors and structure of the Cabernet -- and the bouquet of her armpit still on my upper lip.

"How is it, Dave? Are you ready to swallow your pride and admit mine's the best?"

I looked up into her mesmerizing eyes letting a viscous mass of semen hang on my tongue. Tasting my own weakness. Then the gob slid back, and I let it slip down my throat like a raw oyster. Swallowing my pride. It was fucking revolting.

But I could still smell her on my skin. And suddenly I was floating in her arms, helpless in her lap, suckling at her wine-soaked breast...

"It's a rare vintage, so wonderfully balanced and structured...at the peak of age and ripeness. It's fucking sexier than anything I've ever tasted. You've completely won me over, Kayla."

I'm Kayla's little bitch.

***