“But you don't swim.” “Fuck it. We’re getting the pool.” “But Jake—” “But nothing. We’re getting the pool and that’s that.” �...Okay,” I said, the memory still fresh, still painful. “Did you hear me, Mrs. Paul?” “Oh, sorry Gray. What?” “The pool’s clean. I just gotta check one more thing,” he said, turning his back to me and walking to the hidden supply cabinet at the far end of the building. I sat down like I did each time he came to clean the pool. I watched the old man work while secret. She thrust forward some more to help me and as soon as the button was undone I pulled her zipper down. I could feel the heat of her sex as I pulled the zipper as far as it would go, then I moved my hands to the waist of her jeans and started to ease them over her hips. She raised her hips from the sofa and the denim slipped away, uncovering a pair of tight, sky blue panties that had an unmistakable wet patch at the front. As I slipped the rest of her jeans off, my eyes never left the front of. More

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