Lisa And The Pool Boy

Antonio, the new pool boy, showed up at 11 a.m. sharp on Wednesday, on a warm day in May, just as he had said he would. Lisa greeted him at the front door.

He was taller than Lisa expected, much taller than his younger brother Miguel, who was a friend of her son's. He was more masculine, too, with broad shoulders and muscled arms that stretched the sleeves of his t-shirt.

Lisa was five foot five inches. Antonio towered over her. He must have been six foot two, at least. She hadn't seen him in years, and she remembered him being a lot shorter. Young men this age always seemed to be sprouting a few inches every time she wasn't looking.

"Hey, Ms. Montgomery," he said. Despite his manly physique, he had an endearing, boyish smile. An unruly mop of black hair sprawled over his head.

"Hi, Antonio," Lisa said. "Come on in."

When she turned around, away from him, leading him into her house, Lisa became aware -- acutely -- of how skimpily she was dressed. She wore form-fitting pale blue short shorts, and a matching pale blue sport bra. She had dressed for her daily workout. Lisa worked from home three days a week, and she worked out almost every day. She didn't think twice about what she wore, since she was usually alone in the house while her son was off at school. But now, for a change, she had an audience. She wondered what Antonio thought of the way she looked. Lisa kept herself in good shape, but she was 54 years old. She didn't know if the older brother of her son's friend would find her attractive.

She liked the idea that he might. Did she sway her butt just a little as she led Antonio, following behind her, through her house? Maybe. Yes, maybe she did.

Lisa and Antonio passed through the house to the back yard. She showed him the pool.

"You don't need to come to the front door, from now on," she said. "I'll leave the side gate open so you can get to the back yard directly."

"Mmmph," he said, with the inarticulateness of youth. His body slouched, but Lisa thought his figure looked magnificent. The t-shirt stretched tightly over his chest, and at the bottom it rose and didn't entirely cover his torso, which, from the little Lisa could see of it, was trim and muscled. Antonio sported an air of casual indifference to his appearance, which Lisa found -- she admitted to herself -- sexy.

Lisa felt a twinge of guilt. She shouldn't think this way about the brother of her son's friend. But she did. Antonio was a handsome young man. He was 19, if her memory was correct, nearing the end of his freshman year in college. Lisa had met his mother, Marina, on the soccer field, a few years earlier, as they watched their sons playing on a team together. Marina had immigrated from Mexico, many years ago, and she had worked hard to become a dental hygienist. She still spoke with a pronounced Mexican accent. Her ex-husband had been out of the picture for a long time, as had Lisa's. Lisa and Marina had single motherhood in common, and Lisa felt a bond on that account with Antonio and Miguel's mom.

It was a bit strange, now, to feel an attraction to young Antonio. The previous pool cleaner had quit abruptly and said he was moving to Phoenix. Lisa needed a replacement. Her son told her Antonio was looking for work to help pay for college expenses, so she called him.

And here he was.

Lisa showed him the pool in the back yard. The sun shined brightly, and the temperature already was warm. Lisa and Antonio discussed what had to be done, and they agreed to terms. She was glad to have someone take over the pool cleanup.

And, she had to admit, she liked the idea of Antonio, with his muscular physique, visiting her backyard once a week. It so happened Lisa worked at home on the days Antonio would come to her house to work.

"Thanks for cleaning my pool," she told him.

"No problem, Ms. Montgomery," he replied. "I'll do a good job."

Lisa couldn't help but notice that his eyes swept over her body quickly when he spoke. Her skin warmed at his gaze. It was nice to know that at 54 she could still attract the admiration of a vigorous young man.

"I'm sure you will, Antonio," she said.

Lisa went back into the house, leaving Antonio to get started on the pool cleaning.

Once inside, Lisa began her exercise routine. She went through a series of lunges and squats and overhead presses with ten-pound weights, along with pushups and sit-ups. After 15 minutes a thin sheen of sweat lay over her body. Working out energized her. It aroused her, too.

Lisa thought about Antonio in her back yard, and she wondered how the pool cleaning was going. She walked to a large window that opened to the backyard. The metal blinds that covered it were closed. Lisa pushed two slats apart with her fingers.

Lisa gasped. Antonio had taken his shirt off, and he was scooping leaves out of the pool with a long-handled net. He had no visible fat on his body. His leanly muscled torso and darkly tan skin gleamed under the bright sun overhead. A latticework of abdominal muscles rippled as he skimmed the net through the water. Even from across the yard, she could see his chest and arm muscles bulge and contract as he worked.

Antonio wore nothing but long baggy shorts and flip flops. He was light on his feet at the pool's edge, graceful and athletic, and to Lisa's admiring eye, he moved like a dancer. She was transfixed by the sight of the shirtless young man.

Her body flushed.

She wanted a better look, so she opened the blinds fully. It was far brighter outside than in, so Lisa guessed that even if Antonio looked her way, he wouldn't be able to see her watching him. He would just see a reflection in the window, like a mirror. So, she guessed and hoped.

She wanted to watch him, without him knowing. It had been a while since she had been with a man, and a long time since she'd really looked at a man -- since she had savored the pleasure of a handsome man's masculine figure.

Antonio was handsome. There was no doubt about that. His body radiated an air of youthfulness mixed with manliness.

Lisa drew closer still to the window. Without even thinking about what she was doing, she cupped her bra-clad breast. It swelled to her touch. She peered down at her chest, and her nipples stood as visible as pebbles under the tight blue fabric.

"God, Lisa, get a grip on yourself."

She did have a grip on herself, but not the kind she meant. A spasm of guilt shook her. She was perving on her son's friend's 19-year-old brother.

But it was OK because, well, he didn't know. Only she knew.

What if he did know? What if Antonio knew Lisa spied on him through the window? Would it bother him? Probably not. He might like it. Lisa wondered if the young man thought she was pretty. Lisa had no false modesty -- she knew she was attractive -- sporting a petite but buxom body that she kept fit through exercise and a good diet, flashing blue eyes, and a long mane of blonde hair. She had turned many heads when she was younger, and her ex-husband, who always wanted everyone to know he had a hot wife, liked to show her off.

But that was a long time ago. She'd been divorced for over a decade, and in that time, she had focused on rearing her son rather than dating men. While still attractive, Lisa was 54. She had no idea how a 19-year-old man -- barely more than a boy -- would look at her.

In her reverie, staring through the window at Antonio doing his work, Lisa barely paid attention to what her hands were doing. Now both of them cupped her breasts, and she squeezed them rhythmically.

"Antonio," she said out loud, to the room.

It was so voyeuristic and naughty. Lisa felt bad, but not bad enough to stop.

She pinched the pebbles of her nipples with her thumbs and forefingers, and she squeezed them. The nipples grew harder and more prominent under the lycra bra.

"Antonio," she said again. It was naughty enough to think his name, but even naughtier to say it out loud.

With both hands, Lisa pulled the bra down. Her tits popped loose. Her bare breasts stood out, exposed to the window.

Lisa liked her breasts. They were full and firm, with pale rosy nipples. She wondered if Antonio would like them. Was he experienced enough with women to know what to do with them, if he encountered them? She guessed he'd be able to figure it out. He looked capable, moving around the pool.

With her breasts out of her bra, her hands had to do something else. They drifted down her torso, over her abs, to her tight blue shorts. One hand cupped the mound between her legs, over the shorts. Lisa wore no panties under the shorts. She preferred it that way.

The other hand snuck under the hem of the shorts, until it met a tight-cropped patch of hair. It went further, until her fingers touched her clit. Her body spasmed, slightly, at the touch. Lisa was on edge. She was aroused at her closeted exhibition, showing herself, but not showing herself, imagining, behind the safety of the window, that she was putting on a show for Antonio.

Two fingers moved over the nub of her clit. Lisa left a little patch of hair above her pussy, but the pussy itself was kept bare, and her fingers touched naked skin.

Oh, it felt good -- not just the sensation of fingers on skin, but the knowledge that she was touching and exposing herself next to the window, with Antonio not more than fifty feet away. Could he see her? She guessed not, but she couldn't be sure. His attention seemed absorbed by his task, and he did not look her way.

Lisa wanted to take it a step further. She pulled her hand from under her shorts, and with both hands she pulled them down, until they were at her thighs.

Her pussy was bared to the window, completely naked and revealed.

"Do you want to see me, Antonio?" she asked the room, marveling at the lusty tone in her voice.

"Do you want to see me -- see my pussy?"

She spread her legs apart, as far as they would go, with the tight blue shorts still wrapped around her upper legs.

A hand snaked down, between her thighs, and nimble fingers spread her lips apart -- the lips of her sex. Lisa's pussy now lay open and exposed to the window -- to Antonio's eyes, if only he would look her way, and if only the light shifted so he could see through the window and see her naked body, revealed to him. If the sun were to go behind a cloud, even briefly, the balance of light and shadow inside and out would change, and Lisa had no doubt that Antonio would be able to see her, behind the window, naked.

It aroused her to think of her body being on display for him.

She brought her fingers together, and she plunged two of them inside her. Already, her pussy was wet.

"Would you like to fuck me?" she asked out loud. "Would you like to fuck my pussy, Antonio?"

Lisa's own voice sounded unfamiliar to her, like the voice of another person. She scarcely believed what she was saying, and how naughty it was.

Her fingers rocked in and out of her. The sounds grew louder and wetter. The area all around her pussy grew moist. Lisa looked down, and flecks of wetness spritzed the floor beneath her.

Lisa wondered what it would be like, at 54, to be fucked by a 19-year-old man. She imagined his strong, youthful, muscled body against hers. Antonio would have no trouble picking her up, slinging her over his shoulder, throwing her on a bed. If he wanted to, he could do whatever he wanted with her.

It turned her on to think about it.

Lisa wondered what his cock was like. If she looked hard, and used a little imagination, she could almost think that she saw a bulge under his baggy shorts. She wondered if he wore underwear, or if he went commando. She liked thinking about his youthful cock, not yet fully hard, lying in wait for her, an animal coiled to spring on its prey, hidden behind the loose shorts, but waiting for the right time to show itself, and to take her.

Lisa liked that thought.

She liked the idea of that young, feral 19-year-old cock plunging into her wet depths. Eating her up. Devouring her. Drinking her wetness.

Her fingers moved faster. Lisa grew wetter, and soon the room was filled with the singular sound of her sloppy, drenched pussy being fast-fucked by her two fingers.

Lisa closed her eyes. She imagined the two fingers were Antonio's cock. That hard, youthful, magnificent cock. She hadn't seen it yet, but it was so easy to imagine it.

She fucked herself that way, with her fingers, over and over. She lost track of time.

A loud knock sounded. Lisa's eyes snapped open. She felt a moment of panic.

"Ms. Montgomery?" She heard Antonio's muffled voice, through the door, 15 feet away. He was no longer by the pool.

Lisa quickly pulled her bra top back over her breasts, and she pulled her shorts up.

She worried that she had been reckless. Antonio, approaching the house, might have seen her through the window when she closed her eyes. She wondered if he had. She hoped not. There was nothing she could do about it now.

She stepped to the back door on bare feet and opened it.

"Hey, Ms. Montgomery," Antonio said. "I'm all done."

His shirt was back on, and he was slouched over, and his dark hair lay messily on his head. Lisa looked into his eyes, and she caught them flickering over her figure. Did she detect his gaze lingering below for a second too long? Perhaps. She might have.

"Thanks so much," she said. "Now I have to pay you!"

Lisa pivoted on her feet, and walked into the house to the kitchen counter, where her purse lay. She walked slowly, and with a slight sway to her hips, for Antonio's benefit. She imagined his eyes on her ass as she walked away from him. She hoped that's where they were.

She was being so bad. She'd never done anything like this before. But it felt so good.

She pulled the twenties out of her purse and walked back to Antonio and handed them to him.

"Same time next week?" she asked, staring into his big dark eyes, framed by heavy black eyebrows.

"Thanks, Ms. M," Antonio said. "I'll be here. See you then."

He left, and Lisa walked back into the room to resume her workout. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Oh no! Between her legs, where the lycra shorts stretched tightly over her pubic mound, the blue fabric was noticeably darker. The wetness in her pussy had soaked through the shorts. Had Antonio seen that? Was that what he was looking at when he glanced down her body while standing in the doorway?

It was mortifying to think he had. But... it was a bit thrilling, too.

Lisa continued her workout. She was agitated, and horny, and she threw herself into her exercise more vigorously than she usually did. A fine film of sweat enveloped her body when she was done. She panted.

Lisa peeled the little exercise clothes off her body and threw them to the floor. She would pick them up and wash them later. Now she needed to shower. She walked naked through the house to her master bathroom.

A few minutes later, she stood under the shower nozzle, hot water cascading over her soap-lathered curves. Her hands worked the suds into all the crevices of her body. She closed her eyes and conjured up a vision of Antonio, his firm body nude beside hers, running his hands over her. A tremor ran through her body as she gave in to the taboo fantasy of such a young man taking her for his pleasure.

Her fingers found their way to her pussy, deftly and swiftly, and she brought herself to a fast but fulfilling orgasm.

Thirty minutes later she was at her computer, working. Or, more accurately, trying to work.

Lisa was distracted by thoughts of the events in the morning.

Lisa had never thought of herself as a cougar. She hadn't done anything inappropriate before around her son or his friends. She took her role as mother seriously.

But this morning had been different. She had let herself look at Antonio and his youthful, masculine body in a way that she had never let herself look before at a man so much younger than she. She had lusted after him. There was no other way to put it. She had imagined his hands on her body, and his cock -- which she still had not seen and could only imagine -- inside her.

Lisa was at odds with herself. She enjoyed the fantasy. But she knew it had to remain a fantasy. Didn't it? What if something happened, and Antonio told his friends? They would talk about her: talk about her as a MILF. A cougar. They might call her a 'slut.'

Lisa didn't know how she felt about that. She didn't want to get a bad reputation. But the fantasy was fun to contemplate.

Having work to do, she set aside further thoughts of Antonio for the time being.

* * * *

Throughout the week that followed, Lisa could not get her mind off her new pool boy Antonio. She thought about his height, about the breadth of his shoulders, and about the sinewy bulk of his arm muscles. She wondered about what it would feel like to have those arms wrapped around her, picking her up, throwing her on the bed.

Two nights after his first visit she lay naked in the bed at night, almost ready for sleep. She threw the covers back and spread her legs open to pleasure herself while fantasizing about Antonio. But just as her hand touched her clit, she stopped. Not yet. She would save herself for his return. She smiled. She would have to plan for his second visit.

Lisa's decision to save herself caused her agony over the days leading up to the next Wednesday. She felt horny all week and wanted relief. She found her hands constantly touching her nipples or straying between her legs. She imagined the hands were Antonio's hands.

She fantasized about her pool boy often. It was an odd term by which to think of him. He wasn't a boy at all: he was a man, and a tall, muscular one at that. But he had a boyish face, and he was only 19 -- less than half Lisa's age. And, more importantly, Lisa liked thinking of him as her pool boy. She liked to fantasize about Antonio as the cub to her cougar. What secrets could she teach him? Would he want to learn them?

Lisa devised plans for his next visit. She made a few small purchases online that were left at her door two days later.

By the time Antonio arrived next, on Wednesday at 11 am sharp, just as before, Lisa's body pulsed with desire and anticipation.

Lisa heard his car pull up and saw Antonio through her window, entering her backyard through the gate just as she had instructed him to do, loaded down with his equipment. He was dressed much the same as before -- baggy shorts and a t-shirt -- but if she was not mistaken the t-shirt seemed tighter than before, and its sleeves gripped his biceps more closely. More than the first t-shirt he wore, this one accentuated the bulk of his chest and arms.

Lisa licked her lips. She felt giddy, and nervous. She looked forward to having some fun, but she did not know what Antonio's reaction would be, or if even if he would have a reaction. Maybe he wouldn't be interested in a 54-year-old woman.

There was only one way to find out.

She opened the back door to greet him, carrying her phone and keys in one hand. Warm, late-morning air hit her body -- warmer than the week before. The sun blazed overhead, and only a few clouds, scattered here and there like tiny cotton balls, marred the pale blue canopy of the sky. Lisa had just finished a light workout, and she felt pumped from the exertion. She wore a new bra and shorts combo, in purple and black, this one even skimpier and more revealing than the one before. The bra, especially, pushed her breasts up and out, and revealed deep cleavage. The shorts were low on her waist and high on her buns. Overall, the outfit revealed more skin than she'd ever revealed in a workout. It was one of things she'd just purchased online, for Antonio's eyes.

"Good morning, Antonio!" she called to him.

Lisa took delight in his reaction. The young man looked up from the pool and did an obvious double take when he saw her. So far, so good. She walked over to him, slowly, adding just a tiny sway to her hips as she approached. She wanted to look sexy, but not too obvious.