The Pool Boy – Part One

His job was to watch the pool all day, a sort of downmarket lifeguard. Quite a good job I guess, one gets paid to ogle women – and men – in their swimwear all day. I wouldn’t say no.
His uniform was a red T-shirt and blue shorts, with the obligatory shades.
He’d been watching us alright. A few times he’d come over to where my friends and I were lying. Just looking I guess. There weren’t many people by the pool anyway and the sun was beginning to set.
I climbed into the pool and started to swim a few laps. The water wasn’t cold and I reached the other end and turned back to repeat the process.
He’d left his chair and had gone to stand by the edge, looking out to sea. He caught me watching him and lazily raised his Tshirt, exposing a skinny yet taut stomach. Even in the water, my cunt twinged.
I kept swimming, the laps were now providing a distraction to my sex and sun-addled brain.
Around nine laps later I climbed out of the pool. He was behind me over the other side.
I removed my bikini top with a flourish and lay back down to catch the last few rays.
A little while later my friend suggested we go indoors to shower. We gathered up the holiday debris – towels, sun cream, hat, glasses, water.
My bikini top was still wet from the pool, I wrapped it in a towel and pulled my top over my head.
He was watching, my friend even remarked on how long he had to sit there.
As we walked past, he readjusted himself and smiled.
I told my friend I needed the loo and padded down to the pool toilets. She went up to the room. Fixed my hair, checked my tan lines.
Came out to find him standing there, blocking the way.
I knew exactly what he wanted.
He reached in for a kiss, I stopped him.
“Not here” I said. The toilets were hideous.
He didn’t speak English, but took my hand and led me to a room on the ground floor.

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