Janet gave one more tug, and the cork slid from the bottle of Pino Grigio with an audible "pop". The sound made Joyce and Ellen turn to look. Janet worked the cork off the corkscrew, and poured herself a small sip. Satisfied that it was ok, she filled glasses for her friends Joyce and Ellen that were sitting around the small poolside table out of the sun.
As she filled her own glass to drink, she said, "It's nice that George finally installed that temperature controlled wine storage room in the basement several years ago. Since then, we've never had another bottle go bad."
The three ladies who lived in this high-end southern California neighborhood had been friends for about 6 years. Ever since they met at a local health club, they discovered that they had many similarities and common interests. It was those interests had brought them even closer as they shared some very special aspects of their lives. In private, they loved to jokingly call themselves the "Trashy Trio" because their demeanor and behavior in private surely did not fit their elite lady-like public façade. They always mused and joked about what their friends, family, and associates would think if they really knew about the secret lives enjoyed by these "pillars of the community."
Raising her glass to clink with the others, Janet said, "Here's to a successful job interview this morning and to our continued beneficial relationship with our trusted service company for the coming year."
As they touched glasses, Joyce asked, "So what do you know about this new guy? Have you been told much about him?"
"All I know," Janet said, "is what Paul himself told me about him. Paul handpicked him and thinks he will be perfect for us. Paul says that he's vetted him completely, and you both know we can definitely trust Paul."
The three ladies quietly sipped their wine and allowed themselves to sit in silence as they became hypnotized by little jewels of light glistening of Janet's backyard pool. Janet's pool, as well as those in their own yards, was essentially the reason for their meeting this morning. The three ladies enjoyed the rather spoiled lifestyle afforded by their successful husbands. All were all in their 40's, and even though their well-toned bodies were showing slight flaws, they were all in better than average shape. It was fortunate that their wealthy husbands afforded them the financial security necessary to enjoy free time at the gym, hair salon, nail salon, and massage spa. They could have called themselves the "Salon Sisters" just as easily as the "Trashy Trio", but that wouldn't have told the whole truth. They indeed enjoyed the life of pampered high-maintenance wives of well-off husbands who all were basically two decades their senior. They all had essentially been trophy wives to mid-life crisis husbands about 15-20 years earlier, but were now in mid-life themselves. It really didn't matter because they knew that they still looked hot on the arms of their ever-more gray and ever-more paunchy husbands at whatever event was being sponsored by this or that organization to benefit this or that charity. When their pictures at the various galas appeared in the newspaper, they always looked young and sexy next to their sagging, soft husbands.
Their gathering at Janet's today was partly to discuss the their special leisure live future given that Paul, the nice young man who had been servicing their pools and doing other handyman services around their houses for the past three years was being promoted to area manager. His new position would require him to spend nearly all of his time behind a desk in an office, and not as a frontline field-service man. The reason for today's gathering was to evaluate the potential of Paul's replacement. This "job interview" for the new guy was very important to the ladies because Paul had become an important part of their lives. In addition to servicing their pools, and appliances, and addressing other common home issues, Paul had also serviced them. One of the advantages of the leisure-wife lifestyle is that you could be at home with a lot of free time to help supervise the efforts of service people like Paul; particularly Paul. It didn't matter that the official reason for his time at their homes was to tend to their pool or their kitchen appliances. As far as the ladies were concerned, Paul's real reason for being there was to tend to the needs of their bodies. Indeed their bodies were often more desirous of sexual delight and pleasure than their aging, business-busy husbands would, or could accommodate. Ellen's husband had already become dependent on his Viagra on the rare occasion he decided to pay attention to her. Joyce and Janet could see the day coming when their husbands would also be slaves to such pharmaceutical assistance. On the other hand, Paul, who was only about 9 years older than Janet's son in college, certainly had no need for "boners in a bottle". If anything, he needed something to help keep him soft when it was time to send him home in the late afternoon with enough time to clean up and change the sheets before their husbands got home.
The nice thing about Paul was not just that he was still young and possessed the hormones that kept him in performance mode for hours, but also that he wasn't just some dumb lump of muscle that served simply as life support for an erection. Paul was not some phony pretty boy with a perfect physique. True, he was handsome with the athletic muscular body of a guy still in his 20's, but he was also smart and witty. He graduated fairly high in his class from a relatively well known university in the area. He was well-read and very intelligent. His problem in life was that, rather than majoring in engineering, or science, or business, or something that would have made him immediately employable, he had been a psych major. What did that get him unless he wanted to teach, or could afford grad school, or med school? Psych majors were only a hair above English majors or philosophy majors as far as grabbing a good starting job. Without at least one advanced degree, he would have to settle for what he could get. Fortunately for Paul, he had learned a lot of construction and repair skills from his father. He was creative, and very good with his hands; in more ways than one. The pool maintenance and handyman gig was something that barely gave him enough money to live, but the generous "tips" from the "Trashy Trio" had helped him pay off his car and his student loan. He was worth it. He had become more than just a strong and virile fuck. He was a trustworthy friend and confidant to all three ladies.
Like a lot of young men in southern California in "menial jobs", Paul had hopes of breaking into films or TV. He had scored some bit parts and walk-ons in two movies and several TV shows, but it was not very likely that he was going to achieve the elusive dream in films. He didn't have the head-turning looks of a "Brad Pitt" or "George Clooney" that might have made him a slam-dunk heartthrob. He also had a way to go to demonstrate real talent that could make him a character actor with a regular working schedule. No, the best break he was getting at this point in his life was being promoted to area manager of the maintenance company for which he worked. This was actually no small accomplishment for a man as young as he was. Unfortunately for the "Trashy Trio", that promotion would put him behind the dreaded desk, in the boring office, and sadly away from their beds. On the upside, Paul fully understood the situation. He assured his dear lady friends that he would not leave them high and dry, so to speak. He had handpicked a replacement which he guaranteed would provide service as good as they had become accustomed to with him. Paul himself had interviewed the young man named Ken and was sending him over for the ladies to conduct their own very special "interview". Ken had no idea what was in store for him, or what sort of paces he would put through to prove his worth. Would it be an interview or an initiation? Would it be a talk or a test?
Ellen stood and walked toward the open patio doors leading to the house. "When is this guy supposed to get here," she said downing her glass and reaching for the bottle to pour herself another.
"Just relax," Janet assured her, "he'll be here."
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the doorbell rang. All of the women looked at each other and smiled. Joyce and Ellen followed Janet into the house, and took seats on the sofa in the day room overlooking the patio. Janet continued to the front door. As usual Monday, was a day off for Janet's housekeeper. Monday had also been her regular day with Paul, and having Maria around would obviously not have been a good idea. On a few occasions when Janet couldn't be free of Maria, she and Paul would go to Paul's apartment. Paul's place was pretty basic bachelor quarters, but it was better than a hotel. There were too many eyes at hotels, and you never knew if friends or associates may be there having lunch.
