Undeclared

My excitement was more visible in these bottoms. I didn't try to hide it - it was useless. The small triangle of fabric left no room for modesty. When he finished with my back, he gave me the same sharp smack on my cheek as the week before. Instead of handing me the lotion though, he came around to my front and began to cover my chest and arms.

I had never been touched in such a familiar way before. My breaths were short and fast and I was feeling light-headed. Every muscle in my body was tense.

He tossed the bottle of lotion onto the pool chair and grabbed my wrist.

"Come," he said as he pulled me down the pool steps and across the shallow end of the pool. When he had me neck-deep in the water, he put his hands around my waist and lifted me up.

"Hold on," he said.

He caught me by surprise and, instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck. I couldn't wrap my legs completely around him, so I did the best I could. His hands held me up by the bottom of my thighs and he carried me out to the deeper water. His torso felt like granite against me and I could feel his breath on my neck. His oiled chest pressed against my bare stomach.

I knew my erection was poking him in the sternum, but he didn't give any indication that he felt it.

He stopped when he reached the deep water. His hands returned to my waist as he lifted me up and spun me around again.

"Just like last week," he whispered in my ear. His hand cupped my butt as he lifted my legs up.

It took a conscious effort to relax and breathe. I laid back and let myself float. He held me in place on top of the water while I adjusted to the sensation.

"Ok, when I say 'kick', I want you to kick your legs in a scissor motion, up and down," he whispered.

He held my elbows out to my sides and said, "Kick".

Moments later, I was propelling myself through the water. His hands were giving me just enough lift to keep me buoyant. We practiced this for a while. Then he swam laps as I laid in the shade and watched. Soon, I'd be swimming like him, I thought.

When he was done, I followed him inside to change.

"Keep the bikini. You can wear it next time," he said as he disappeared into his room.

A flush of embarrassment filled my face when he used the word "bikini". I knew what I was wearing, but there was a pretense that it was a "swimsuit".

"Thank you," I said as I pulled my shorts up over my new pink "swimsuit".

I hurried back home in the late afternoon and made a direct path to my pink toy. I didn't watch a video this time. I lubed up and rode my toy to the thought of Coach's hard body. I stuck the base of it against the wall, bent over and rocked back on it. My eyes rolled back and I moaned. I felt reckless and in heat as I humped the pink dildo furiously.

A wonderful pleasure began to build inside me as I settled into a rhythm. Then a wave came over my body. My legs were shaking as I moaned out a high pitch, "Oh my god, hhnnnng" I dribbled a small puddle onto the floor.

When the moment passed, I caught my breath and pondered curiously at what just happened. I was still limp. I had not started rubbing myself before my climax.

"Oh my god, I just came like a girl," I whispered to myself. My legs felt weak. I collapsed to the floor and looked at the mess I just made.

I laid there until the feeling passed. Then I became uncomfortable. "What am I doing?" I thought as I realized I just lusted over Coach.

When I first starting using the toy, it was just an inanimate thing. I didn't associate a particular sexual activity with it.

Eventually, I began to imagine I was being pegged by a domme from one of the videos I found online.

This was new sexual territory though and I was in the deep end of the pool.

I had always had an unusual attraction to girls. Being petite myself, I gravitated toward the short and soft spoken ones. They didn't threaten me as much as the others. The taller girls intimidated me. To be fair, most were taller. But the athletic ones further amplified my inadequacies. I felt like they all knew the power they had over me.

Over the years, I had more than one infatuation. It always ended the same way though. I would watch them flirt with the taller, developing boys. I felt invisible.

But, I had never felt the same infatuation with a boy.

I cleaned up my mess and took the toy to the shower to clean it as I bathed. When I was done with it, I tossed it over the shower door into the sink. I didn't even want to look at it in that moment. I stood mesmerized in thought under the shower head.

I fell asleep late that night and woke early the next day. I watched from the window waiting for Coach to leave for work. I couldn't face him after last night, as if I thought he would sense what I had done and how I had thought about him.

The garage opened and I saw his truck back out. Once the street was clear, I slipped into the house through the garage and went to his laundry room.

I began sorting his laundry into piles when I found his yellow trunks. The clinging wet, yellow fabric against the darkness of his bulge pervaded my thoughts. I quickly dropped them putting the thought out of mind.

I set out to explore the rest of his house, starting with the guest bedroom I had missed the week before. This time the door was open and seemingly inviting me in.

The guestroom closet was full of odd-looking exercise equipment: bikes, elliptical machines, weights, and other things I couldn't identify. There was no bed in the room. The closet held no clothes that I could see and the exercise equipment did not interest me, so I move on to the dresser.

In the top drawer, folded neatly upon a stack of clothes, were the hibiscus-patterned briefs from our first swim lesson. I grinned knowingly. The rest of the drawer was filled with an assortment of boy's and women's clothes of approximately the same size: my size. It all looked new or only slightly worn at most. Some still had tags attached.

I had found a treasure trove and I had all day to play.

I pulled out stacks of garments and set them on the dresser.

I had only ever worn Victoria's old clothes. Before me there was a wide assortment of new experiences. I found lingerie, thigh-high socks and stockings, mini skirts, crop tops, negligee, bikinis, and panties. I didn't know where to start. I wanted to try it all.

I picked out a soft pink crop top, long thigh-high striped socks, and a pair of white lacy panties. I unfolded the crop top and examined it. On the front, the word "Princess" was printed in white cursive. I giggled at the irony. The socks came up almost to my round butt. They were warm and soft on my hairless legs. There were three pink stripes around the top. The panties caught my fascination. The front was lacy with bows adorning the hips. They were backless and the seat had an opening between two straps. I slid those up over my stockings and examined myself in the mirror.

I danced through his house as I cleaned.

I was in my element.

Since Victoria started "panty-time", she would dress me up and we would role-play. She always made me a housewife. She gave me lessons on keeping a tidy home, washing laundry, ironing, and cooking. She would tell me, "Men like to come home from work to a clean house, Princess" and "one day, you'll make a good wife for a lucky man." "Most of the hard work is done from your knees though," she would laugh. I began to enjoy the dress-up but the rest of the show was for her amusement.

She also used these lessons to mold me into a submissive housekeeper for her and my mother.

I finished sweeping and vacuuming his floors as the last load of laundry dried. The bathrooms were clean and the dishwasher and sink were empty. I carried his clothes to his room and put them away. His bed was a king and I imagined how he might look as he slept in it.

Lack of sleep the night before was beginning to take a toll on me. I could not stop yawning. I dressed his bed with clean sheets and then sprawled out on it to take a nap.

When I woke, the sun was setting. He would be home soon. I changed back into my clothes and put the treasure back in the dresser drawer. I would wash what I wore next week.

Back at home, I was preparing dinner when a text notification broke the silence.

(Victoria) "How ya doin? Are you enjoying your time alone?"

I responded, "Yes, thank you for the presents. I'm doing great."

(Victoria) "Are you taking good care of Coach?"

(Me) "I just got back from doing his laundry. I cleaned his house and he's teaching me how to swim."

(Victoria) "That's great! Have you thought about your plan?"

I stared at my phone. I was still avoiding the decision and I wasn't ready to think about it now.

(Me) "Not yet."

(Victoria) "Don't stress about it. It will come to you in time." (Victoria) "Things will work out for the best. Have faith."

(Me) "Okay. Thank you."

Her words put me at ease. I finished my dinner and cleaned the kitchen as I listened to music.

I saw headlights through the front room window and watched as Coach pulled into this garage. Lights came on in the house as he moved through it.

I sat down on the couch and turned on the television. About a half hour later, the light of his guest room came on. He must be getting a late workout. I watched to see if I could glimpse him through the blinds. The room went dark. No workout tonight, I guessed.

Another text notification:

(Coach D) "House looks great. We may have to make this a regular thing." He added a smile emoji. (Coach D) "Did you enjoy your day?"

(Me) "Yes, sir. How was your day?"

(Coach D) "It just got better."

I smiled at the last message and laid my head down on the sofa.

The next week passed quickly. I remember Victoria's words and tried not to let myself become stressed. I trusted her advice - a plan would emerge.

Sunday came and I rose at dawn anticipating the weekly muscle show. I wasn't disappointed. The engine sound started in the distance. Coach was mowing his backyard first. I had time to stretch and ease into my day. In the front bay window, I ate breakfast and watched him work.

Back and forth across his lawn, his powerful arms effortlessly pushed the mower. I thought about how effortlessly he lifted me in the pool and about how it felt to be wrapped around him. My mind wandered back to the orgasm I had in the shower as I lusted over the thought of Coach's body.

I cleared my throat, shook the thought from my head, and went to the bedroom to get dressed. He would be over here soon and I didn't want to be caught in my current state. After a quick shower, I brushed the tangles out of my long hair.

The mower engine was already humming in the front yard. He was nearly finished and would be heading to the back soon. I poured a tall glass of iced tea and met him on the patio as he came around.

"Good morning, Coach," I beamed with my sweet voice.

"Hello, Jaime," he said as I handed him the tea. He drank it quickly and handed the empty glass back.

"Another hot one today. Go put your bikini on and head over. I'll finish up here," he said.

Those were the words I was waiting all week to hear.

"Yes, sir. See you soon," I said with a smile.

I tried to hide my excitement as I went inside. The bubblegum bottoms were laid out on my dresser already. I pulled off my shorts, pulled the bikini bottoms up, and tied them at my hips. I grabbed my sunglasses as I went out the door.

I tip-toed across the hot pavement to Coach's house and let myself in through the garage. The distant sound of the lawnmower engine told me he was still at work.

On the pool patio, I moved a lounge chair under the shade of an umbrella. I laid on my stomach, closed my eyes, and listened to the birds in the wooded area behind us while I waited for him to arrive.

I didn't hear him approach, but suddenly he was there. His hands began spreading lotion up the backs of my legs and then my thighs. The massage relaxed me further and I felt myself melt into the lounger.

Due to my failure to "bloom", my hips remained wider than my shoulders. Combined with my narrow waist, and round shoulders, they gave me a feminine outline. Victoria had commented on more than one occasion that I had a "girly butt" and warned me about bending over in public. She made sport of the various ways she could emasculate me.

When his hands moved up from my thighs to my butt, I let out a soft sigh. I was no longer uncomfortable with the familiarity and intimacy of his touch. His hands felt magical against my skin. I could have laid there all day.

When he finished applying lotion to my backside, I flipped over. I saw that he was wearing a different swim suit: a dark purple men's swim brief. His thighs flared out from the leg openings and between them his large bulge filled the pouch. My jaw dropped as I caught a glimpse of him.

I stared up at him through my sunglasses.

"Want me to help you oil your back now?" I asked softly.

He smiled, handed me his tanning oil and sat at the end of the lounger. I straddled the chair behind him and began to rub oil into his wide back. My tiny hands roamed the contours of his muscles from his shoulders and arms down to his the purple elastic waistband.

He stood and I worked up the back of his legs. As my hands reached the inside of his thighs, he widened his stance. I massaged oil into his muscular groin. My hands came centimeters from his bulge and I could feel heat between his legs.

Suddenly, he turned around and playfully yank me up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I screamed and laughed as he carried me into the pool.

He sat me down on my feet in chest deep water and my hand rested low on his stomach as I steadied myself.

"Okay, baby. Today you learn to swim with your arms," he said.

He was an excellent swim instructor. By noon, I was able to tread water on my own I and was moving across the pool on my back. I felt brave and tried to apply his lessons on my stomach in the shallow end. He said I was swimming "freestyle" and seemed pleased with my progress. For the first time in my life, I was swimming. I was still a long way from taking laps like Coach, but at least I wasn't stuck on the shallow steps.

Our weekly swim lesson was cut short by the alarm on his phone. I tried to hide my disappointment when he announced he had to head to the gym. This time he lifted me up out of the pool from edge and wrapped me in a towel. He spun me toward the door and walked me inside.

"I'll be home late again tomorrow, so take your time if you want," he said.

"Good night, Coach," I sighed.

I spent the rest of the afternoon into the late evening with my pink toy working out my pent-up energy.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of Coach's truck pulling away from his driveway. I was a sticky mess from the night before. I showered, threw on an oversized t-shirt and darted across the street. There was no use getting fully dressed, I reasoned. I would get dressed in his house.

I rushed to his house and into the guest room where I began to change.

My shirt fell to the floor and I pulled out a sheer, white babydoll gown from the top dresser drawer. I slid into it. I enjoyed how the material brushed my skin. I closed the top drawer and paused. It occurred to me that when I found the treasure trove, I stopped searching the guest room and I never opened the bottom drawer.

I reached down and pulled it open. My jaw dropped. Half of the drawer contained another assortment of clothes like the top drawer. The other half was filled with leather restraints, chains, collars, blindfolds, gags, and toys. I nervously reached in and sifted through the tangled items and then quickly closed the drawer.

I looked at the dress in the mirror. It hugged my chest and floated out from my waist. My nipples were poking out into the mesh. I turned around to see how it looked from the back. The lace hem stopped above the bottom of my butt giving a cheeky peak at my backside.

I stripped his bed next and washed the sheets and pillow cases. I cleaned the bathrooms while the washing machine finished. Then, I ran another load through the washing machine with the crop top, panties and stockings from the week before.

I did the dishes, vacuumed, and swept while the sheets dried. When they were done, I made his bed and finished the remaining laundry and ironing by mid afternoon.

I set the timer on my phone for half past five. The last time he worked late, he came home around seven. An hour and a half would give me plenty of time to straighten up before he returns. I laid in his bed and drifted off into a peaceful nap.

The phone alarm pulled me out of my slumber. The circulating air from the ceiling fan brushed across the satin camisole and gave me goosebumps. I stretched and enjoyed the sensation for a moment before I began returning everything to its place. The cami was back in the guest dresser and I put on the stiff cotton shirt from the morning. Before leaving, I flattened the indentation in his comforter and straightened the pillows.

My stomach rumbled as I walked home. I had not eaten all day and I was famished. Chicken breasts were thawing in the refrigerator from last night. I thought about what I might make of them as I searched my closet for something to wear.

After wearing the satin cami all day, none of the garments I had would satisfy me. I missed the clothes that Victoria would dress me in. Her closets were now empty and I was left with only my own clothes. They were all pretty colors and soft materials that Victoria had picked out. But, they were nothing like the slips, dresses and skirts she provided.

I pulled the cotton sleepshirt off and stood naked in my closet flipping through shirts, short, and pants. Victoria had picked out all of these clothes but they would not do.

I looked around the room as my stomach rumbled again. The bikini bottoms Coach gave me were sitting on top of a basket of folded laundry. I rolled the string ties between my fingers for a moment and then I put them on.

My stomach made an audible groan as I examined the bottoms in the mirror.

Returning to the kitchen, I pulled out the plate of thawed chicken and sat it on the counter. A red and white striped cooking apron hung next to the pantry. Victoria purchased it for me when she was giving me cooking lessons.

I lifted it from the hook and had a moment of inspiration. I flew to the bedroom and pulled on a long V-neck sleepshirt that sat mid-thigh. I threw the apron over my shoulder, gathered the chicken, capers, lemon, butter, rice, sprouts and other ingredient into a basket. I needed something I could put together quickly. If I hurried, I would have just enough time before he came home.

I knew exactly where his cookware was from that past few weeks of cleaning his kitchen. I tied the apron around my waist and played some music through earbuds as I went to work.

The chicken browned in a skillet with butter and olive oil. The Brussel sprouts roasted in the oven with olive oil and seasoning. Lemon garlic rice steamed in a nearby bowl.

I pulled the chicken out when it was a golden brown. One breast I sat on a small plate and the rest I covered. I added broth, capers, lemon juice and seasoning to the skilled and scraped the bottom with a wooden spatula.

It was just past six-thirty and I was right on time. I munched on bites of the chicken breast to ease my hunger pains and to check that it was thoroughly cooked.

I was feeling great as I danced around the kitchen to a catchy tune. The aroma of the sauce filled the house and dinner was nearly ready to serve.

I was singing into the wooden spatula when I felt a hand on my low back. My body spasmed and I released an ear-piercing screech.

He was early.

I breathed out heavily and relaxed my shoulders.