The orange glow of sunset was straining to hold back the night. It was the end of what should have been a beautiful day. A day I would have normally enjoyed the memory of. Instead I was nervously looking around my house, my fabulous house, wondering what would become of me.
I am Cindi, a married 38 year old, affluent white mother. I am a member of several community organizations, including the PTA. My husband and I were married fairly young. We had to struggle for everything early on. He was still going to school, while working two jobs and I was a waitress at a run down highway diner. The kind of place young women had to endure off color remarks from it's patrons. I was young and naïve, but determined to support him. Our sex life was dismal at best but we were still able to, miraculously, get me pregnant. I can still remember Mike, my husband, assuring me that everything would be better when he got out of school and started his career. Durin this time we were surprised with the arrival of not one but two additional children. Our first born son was joined by a brother and finally a sister. They all were heading off on their own, our youngest just graduating high school and heading off for college.
Well he was right, sort of. He graduated shortly afterwards, at the top of his class no less, and got a job with a great company. Money seemed to flow into our lives non-stop. The more he progressed the harder he worked. Often times he would be away on business for weeks at a time. Almost before I knew it, the company's favored son was a vice president. That was almost five years ago and since then he hasn't seemed to slow down.
Mike is now, with out question, one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in our area. Our sex life is still as dismal, more so by the fact that, when Mike does want it he is demanding of me. I have tried to talk to family and friends, but their only advice is to do what he wants.
I have spent our recent time trying to make him happy with me. I hit the gym several times a week and watch what I eat. I am proud of the fact that I am still the same size as when we were married. The only thing that has changed is my bra size; three kids will do that to you. Age and experience has dimmed my naive nature and I definitely notice the attention I get from other men. I also noticed that Mike seemed to enjoy his trophy wife. He would require me to 'dress appropriately' at company dinner parties, no matter how uncomfortable his choices made me. To his credit he never concerned himself with what my wardrobe or spa visits would cost him. He would even buy me dresses for specific occasions. These were often revealing and tight. His view point was that I should look good on his arm, so I proudly paraded around for my husband. He even looked pleased when clients would flirt with me. Not at all the jealous husband you would expect. He looked so pleased that I would frequently assume we would have some alone time to take care of my needs. This usually led to disappointment. Mike would have sex with me, rather quickly, and then leave me to run to have drinks with another prospective client, or just send me back to our hotel room alone.
To be honest this has had an effect on me. I seem to be fully aroused, a lot. I have a private dressing room where I hide toys and videos to keep me 'entertained' while he is busy elsewhere. Lately though, even this is not always successful and I am left frequently frustrated and unsatisfied.
That brings us to today.
We have staff for our house, a colored couple that tends to the cleaning and maintenance. I wanted a live in couple but Mike said no. They have Tuesday and Wednesday off, so I was enjoying my solitude.
I woke up around 10 am and made myself a cup of coffee. I was sitting on our deck enjoying the sun, dressed in my short, silk robe as I sipped my coffee. It was going to be a beautiful summer day in Ft. Meyers. At about 11 am I decided to do a little sun bathing, and realizing that we would be going to another boring sales event I chose my skimpiest bikini. No use showing tan lines in what ever revealing dress hubby had me wear to it.
With the small patches of cloth that comprised my swim wear adjusted I grabbed a bottle of wine on ice, a glass and tanning oil. Stopping only to turn on some music. I laid a towel on a chaise lounge near our pool and proceeded to bake myself to a golden brown.
I was barely comfortable when I heard a voice over the music. I was irritated, looking for the source of the interruption and saw a face peering at me over the side gate.
"Who are you?" I asked in anger.
The young man looked obviously nervous and started to stammer.
"Speak up, will you?" I growled.
"I'm very sorry, no one answered the front door, I am hear to tend to the pool", was his stumbling response.
"Oh shit", I thought, "I forgot they came today.
Even more irritated I replied, "Well don't just stand there, It won't clean it self." I had hoped he would hurry up and finish so I could go back to my day.
The young man gingerly opened the gate and stepped through it. He was tall and tan from what appeared to be many long days in the sun. He wore the pool company's t-shirt and a pair of cut offs.
"Where is the usual man?" I asked.
"The company is expanding and I was given this route." He replied proudly.
I stood up and put on my wrap, "well I guess its fine, just don't take all day." I was feeling confident that I made my displeasure known, so I walked towards the house to freshen the ice in my wine bucket.
I stood by the kitchen window watching him work, checking chemicals. When it appeared he was satisfied he pulled out the hoses for the vacuum, stripped off his shirt and proceeded to vacuum the pool.
I was mesmerized. Standing by my pool was a sexy young man, dark tanned muscles rippling in nothing but flip-flops and abbreviated cut offs.
I don't know what did it, whether the wine I had already consumed or the periods of sexual frustration. All I knew was my body was afire with desire. I returned to the pool, fresh bottle in the bucket and took a closer look at this young man.
To his credit he seemed very diligent, but I would notice his gaze would frequently, if not briefly, land on me. I was amazed how excited I was becoming. I could feel a moist heat between my legs and my very sensitive nipples start to harden.
The young man was exerting himself. My clit began to throb as I watched his taught young muscles flex on his tanned, sweating frame. My mind began to wander as I gulped down my wine, trying to control myself. I thought of the feel of his skin, it's warm salty taste. My thighs were rubbing together slightly as I tried to casually put pressure on my pussy.
My guest didn't seem to notice, much to my relief. He did, although; take a very long time on the opposite side of the pool. In my minds eye, I fantasized that he wanted to prolong the chance to steal glances at me. I started to apply more lotion, trying to tease this poor young man. Just when I thought it was having no effect, I noticed a growing bulge in the front of his shorts. The spurred me on. I pulled my top away from my large breasts slightly, giving my audience even more glimpses to savor. I ran my oily finger tips a few inches into my bottoms as well. Even though I was wearing sun glasses I was sure he was aware I was watching his reactions.
