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“Sure.”

He rolled on his side to face her, so all I could see was his back. He laughed again and his shoulders shook. “You are so easy. I love that about you.”

When he didn’t answer, she sat up, with her back propped up against the bedhead. He moved his head to lay it in her lap and she played with his hair. “What about the watcher?” she asked.

“What about him?” He sounded wary.

They were talking about me. About the last time. I’d tucked my cock back into my briefs and buttoned my khakis, but I could feel it growing again. Pushing against the fabric.

“Do you have an idea who he is?” she asked as she played with his hair—her fingers making fists in the strands. Mr. D tilted his head to look up at her. He said, “Do you? You sounded quite certain in your description.”

“Only because I read you so well. I’ve seen you watch him.”

Who? Me? My heart was pounding. Did Mr. D watch me?

“He’s bigger this summer. Broader. There’s hair dusting his chest. It’s golden brown. I saw him take off his shirt the last time he was here.”

Mr. D rolled on his back. His head still in her lap. His cock was bigger .Was it engorging as he thought about me I wondered, as it now lay full and hard against his stomach.

Mr. D sat up and speared his fingers through his hair. He moved to the edge of the bed grabbed a white robe and thrust his arms in the sleeves. He was facing me now, sitting on the bed in front of the window.

She moved behind him. Got up on her knees, brought her hands up and started to massage his shoulders. Resting her chin on his shoulder she spoke into his ear, soft but still loud enough for me to hear, “Twenty. Lucas think back to what we were doing at twenty.”

His shoulders shook with laughter. “Yeah. We did some crazy shit. But never that.”

She dug her fingers into his shoulder and pulled, tugging him around so that he swung his legs back on the bed to sit beside her. “But you want to. Don’t you. Tell me honey. Never any secrets between us. No need for it.”

He sucked in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. A long sigh. “Yeah—I want it. I want him.”

“Do you fantasize about him? Do make yourself come thinking about him?”

He looked bashful. Even in the darkened room, lit only by candles I could see the flush on his cheeks. “Jesus. Lissy do you have to know
everything
?”

“Yes. You know I do. Anyway. While we’re telling secrets I have to tell you—it turns me on. You and him. It turns me on. I’ve come thinking about it.”

“Yes. I’ve thought about him. Sweaty. No shirt. Skin bronzed from the sun. He’s on his knees. His cock is hard, it’s jutting out of those khaki work pants of his. You’re telling him to suck you. Ordering him.”

I swallowed. My mouth suddenly dry, I didn’t want her to stop. I wanted her to go on and on. Telling me what he would do. What he would do to me.

“He’s looking up at you. His mouth open, right at your cock. He’s stronger than me. He sucks harder. His hands are rougher, harder. But it’s good. So good.” I watched her hand go down to Mr. D’s cock. It was fully hard now, jutting up tall and pushing against his stomach.

She pushed down his leg, the one closest to the window. I knew why she did it. She did it for me. So I could see her. See her jack him off while she talked about me. What she wanted him to do to me.

“You have to coach him. Tell him when to lick. When to suck. When to cup your balls. He doesn’t know. He’s never done this before. Never touched another man. Only you. Only you.”

Mr. D groaned, the way I wanted to. But I held it back. Listening carefully. Mesmerized by her wicked words.

“His cock is out. Sticking out of those grass stained work pants. Can you see it? Do you let him stroke it? Can he touch it Lucas?”

Her hand slipped fast on his cock. Up and down. Hard and fast. Mr. D had his head back. His eyes closed, talking fast. I couldn’t hear every word, but I didn’t need to, it hit me anyway.

Chapter Five

I was glad for the hard work after that. My mind was churning. With what I’d heard and what I wanted. How did she know? How did she know that he wanted me? That I would want him?

I’d been in the yard for a good twenty minutes when he came out. I was edging the path than ran to the front door. I’d stripped off the ugly bright orange safety shirt that my step-dad made us wear and was just in my white undershirt. It was stuck to my body with sweat.

He walked out the front door and then down the drive to where he’d parked his BMW. He was back in his suit and tie. Looking so upright, so conservative, no one would ever know what lay beneath that navy pinstripe. I knew and the thought made my dick start to stiffen again.

For a moment it seemed as if he was just going to leave—without even acknowledging me. I was sort of relieved, but there was another part of me that was disappointed. Really disappointed. I wanted him to speak to me. I wanted him to look at me. Acknowledge somehow that he wanted me, that I affected him.

I wanted so bad for him to see me and I felt really stupid for feeling that way.

He opened the car door which made me think that was the end of it and then he stopped. Just stood there. He didn’t get in—he turned to me—sort of shook his head a little and then spoke. I didn’t hear him because I was still wearing the safety earmuffs. I’d turned off the edger. I did that for every client. Harry was paranoid about safety, no equipment was allowed on while a client was in line of sight.

I flipped the protective muffs off my ears and tossed them down on the grass, near where I’d lay the edger. He walked over to me. My heart rate jumped, beating like I’d just run a mile flat out.

His eyes widened. I saw it—the flash of heat in his eyes. I was feeling brave, a little charged by that burning flicker of need so I said, “There’s a lot more stuff I’d like to do. Stuff I’d like to try.”

“Really?”

I pulled off my undershirt, yanking it up over my head. He watched, saying nothing, just gripping his briefcase in his hand. After I had the shirt off I balled it up and took my time running it over my chest and down my stomach. His eyes followed my every move. I knew because I watched him—watched him watching me.

“Well, I hope you get time. Time to try that stuff.” His voice sounded thick—potent.

He shifted the briefcase over his lap. I knew why. I’d made him hard. Looking at me had made him hard. My cock was rising too. Thickening. Engorging. Not a full on boner. But noticeable—if you were looking.

Heart thumping. I took the shirt and rubbed again. Down my stomach and a little over the growing bulge in my khakis.

He watched. I saw him swallow. His neck clench. His jaw tighten. “Well then Jacob. We’d both better get back to work.”

“Yes Mr. D.” I shook out my shirt and pulled it back over my head as I watched him get in the car and pull out of the driveway. I stood watching him leave, both heart and cock thumping. Not sure what exactly I’d just done. What I’d started.

After he was gone I got straight back into it, working hard—muscles burning—trying to work off the need that our brief conversation had ignited. I’d finished, packed up the truck and was ready to spend my lunch break on a cold shower at home, but I had one more thing to do. When I turned back to the house with the monthly invoice in hand she was waiting for me. Dressed in a robe. Not naked underneath this time. I could see the black straps of a swim suit.

“Jacob. You look hot.” She was carrying an icy glass of liquid with a lemon slice floating on top.

“Thanks Mrs. D.” I took the glass from her and knocked it back in one gulp. It was lemonade. Not too sweet. Good and cold, with a nice bite. Just the way I liked it.

I handed her back the empty glass and the invoice. Our hands touched briefly. The quick swipe of her fingers against mine hit me like an electric shock.

She laughed. The sunlight hit her red curls from behind and made it seem as if she wore a red gold halo. “OK then, Mrs. D it is. No ma’am. It makes me feel too old.”

“You’re not old. You’re beautiful.”

She laughed again. Touching my arm briefly. “Oh Jacob. You’re wonderful. Thank you. You’ve just made my day. Maybe I can help you.”

“What do you have on under there? Are you wearing boxers or briefs?” She motioned to my khaki pants and I it took all of my will to stop my cock from jumping up to meet her hand. I tried to think about what kind of underwear I’d put on that morning and when I remembered I finally answered, “Boxer Briefs.”

Sweeping back the curls from her eyes she smiled and said, “Perfect. They’re practically a swimsuit anyway. Come join me.” She took my hand and lead me to the front door. I stopped on the doormat and she looked back at me confused.

“I’m too dirty to go through the house.”

She looked me up and down nodded her head and said, “OK. Then go down the side. You know the way.”

When I got around back she was already there. She’d stripped off the robe and was standing near the steps of the pool in her swim suit. It was a halter neck. Black tank top and tiny little panties that tied in bows at the sides. It suited her curves. Made her already weighty breasts seem fuller.

She entered the water slowly. I watched her walking down the steps into the blue water as I unlaced my boots and removed my clothes. The boxer briefs I’d put on that morning were black and I noticed with a flush of shame that there was a white cum stain on the front. Too embarrassed to let her see I decided to dive in and hoped that the water would wash it away.

The water was cold. Almost icy, I felt my skin shrink tight in protest. The pool was always in shade, surrounded by high fences and tall trees. As I looked around I realized it was totally secluded. I couldn’t even see the roofline of the next house.

I was treading water in the deep end. She swam over to me, breast stroke, slow and graceful movements through the water. When she reached me she said, “You’re probably tall enough to stand here.”

She’d moved to the side of the pool where there was a cluster of rocks. Mrs. D settled back and I figured there must have been a seat or ledge under the water. She motioned for me to join her and I walked over, keeping my distance. Staying well over an arm length away.