The Pool fuck.

The warm afternoon sun cast shone its golden rays over the manicured gardens as Aline led me from the stables, her riding boots now abandoned somewhere in the straw. She walked ahead of me completely naked, her clothes left in a discarded pile, her pear-shaped ass swaying with the confidence of a woman who had nothing left to hide. I followed, still catching my breath, my cock bobbing semi-erect between my legs, my jeans and t-shirt lost somewhere in the stall.

The swimming pool was magnificent—an infinity edge that seemed to spill into the landscaped gardens beyond, the water a clear turquoise that sparkled invitingly in the sunlight. A bit of steam rose gently from its surface, the water was heated to a perfect, pleasant temperature.

Aline didn't hesitate at the pool's edge. She dove in cleanly, her body slicing through the water with athletic grace, her dark hair streaming behind her like a banner. I watched her disappear beneath the surface, the ripples spreading outward, and for a moment I wondered if this was all some fever dream.

Then she burst upward, breaking the surface with a gasp, water cascading down her magnificent breasts, her nipples still hard and dark from our earlier exertions. She pushed her hair back from her face, droplets clinging to her lashes as she fixed me with that predatory smile.

"Come in," she called, her voice carrying across the water.

I hesitated at the edge, suddenly self-conscious. "I don't have swim trunks."

She laughed—a rich, throaty sound that made my cock twitch. "You just fucked me in my husband's stable, honey. Modesty seems a bit late; don't you think? Come in. The water's perfect."

I couldn't argue with that logic. I dove in, the warm water enveloping me instantly, soothing the scratches she'd left on my back.

When I surfaced, she was already on me.

She moved through the water like something feral, sleek, and purposeful, closing the distance between us in seconds. Before I could fully orient myself, her legs wrapped around my waist, her ankles locking behind my back. The buoyancy of the water made her weightless, but I could feel the heat of her against my stomach, the slickness of her arousal still coating her thighs.

"Grab the edge behind you," she whispered against my lips, her breath hot and tasting of mint and something darker.

I reached behind me, finding the tiled pool edge, gripping it for support as she ground herself against me. Her married slit—still swollen and sensitive from our fucking in the stable—pressed against my half-hard cock, sliding along my shaft with deliberate, teasing friction. She was so wet, so open, her labia parting around me as she rocked her hips.

"You're getting hard for me again," she purred, kissing me deeply, her tongue invading my mouth with the same confidence her body invaded mine. "I can feel you growing."

I was. Despite having just emptied myself inside her, my body responded to her like a Pavlovian trigger—her scent, her heat, the way she moved against me. I grew harder with each grind of her hips, my cock thickening and lifting between us until I was fully erect again, trapped between our bodies, the head bumping against her lower stomach with each movement.

"That's my good pool boy," she cooed, biting my lower lip. "So eager. So ready to serve me again."

Footsteps crunched on the gravel path approaching the pool. I tensed, but Aline simply smiled against my mouth, not breaking our contact.

"Madame," a polite voice called out. "Your refreshments."

I turned my head to see a man in his fifties, dressed impeccably in a butler's uniform, carrying a silver tray with two crystal glasses of amber liquid and two bottles of Evian water. Peter, I assumed. He approached the pool's edge with the practiced neutrality of someone who had clearly seen far more shocking things than his naked employer's cunt wrapped around a stranger in the pool.

"Thank you, Peter," Aline said, not unwrapping her legs from my waist, making no move to cover herself. Her breasts floated at the water's surface, nipples breaking through like dark islands. "Is there anything else you need, Madame?" Peter asked, his eyes politely fixed on a point somewhere over our heads.

Aline smiled, her hand sliding down between us to grip my now fully erect cock beneath the water, stroking me slowly where Peter couldn't see. "Only my pool boy here, Peter. That's all I desire."

"Very well, Madame," Peter replied with a slight bow, turning to leave. "I shall leave you to your fucking, then."

"Thank you, Peter," Aline called after him, her grip tightening on my shaft, making me groan. "You're too kind."

We heard his footsteps retreating across the gravel and the sound of the house door closing in the distance.

"Your butler is... accommodating," I managed to say, my voice strained as she continued to work my cock under the water.

"He knows his place," Aline whispered, releasing me and grinding her pelvis against me again, the friction of her slick cunt against my shaft making my eyes roll back. "And he knows what I need. Just like you do, pool boy."

She kept grinding, slow, deliberate circles, her clit dragging against my length, her breasts pressed against my chest, the water lapping around us. I was fully erect now, painfully hard, my cock throbbing with need.

"Come," she whispered finally, her eyes dark with renewed hunger. "Fuck me on those sunbeds. I want to feel the sun on my skin while you fill me again."

She unwrapped her legs from my waist and swam to the pool's edge, hoisting herself out with athletic grace. Water streamed down her body, highlighting every curve, every shadow, the glistening trail leading from her navel down to her dark, wet curls. She walked to the lounge chairs without looking back, knowing I would follow.

I scrambled out of the pool, my cock bouncing up and down with each step, heavy and engorged, dripping with pool water and my own arousal. She had arranged herself on a cushioned lounger, lying back but propped up on her elbows, her legs spread wide in invitation, her pussy visibly swollen and open, glistening with her juices and the water.

"Lie down," she purred, patting the lounger beside her. "Let me do the work this time."

I stretched out on the wide lounger, my cock standing straight up, throbbing in the warm afternoon air. Aline climbed over me, her knees on either side of my hips, positioning herself above my straining erection. She reached down, gripping my shaft, aligning the head with her entrance.

"Watch," she commanded, her eyes locked on mine.

She lowered herself slowly, impossibly slowly, her tight married pussy stretching around my girth. I watched, mesmerized, as my cock disappeared inch by inch into her body, her labia clinging to my shaft, the wet heat of her enveloping me in that perfect, silken grip. She was still tight from our earlier fucking, but now she was relaxed and open, taking me deeper than before.

"Oh god," she moaned, her head falling back, her breasts thrust forward as she bottomed out, her ass resting against my thighs, my entire length buried inside her. "You fill me so perfectly, pool boy."

She began to move, rising and falling in a slow, hypnotic rhythm, her hands braced on my chest for leverage. The sun beat down on her skin, turning it golden, highlighting the sheen of water and sweat. Her breasts bounced with each descent, the nipples hard and dark, swaying hypnotically.

I reached up to cup them, squeezing the heavy flesh, pinching her nipples between my fingers, and she gasped, her rhythm faltering.

"Yes," she breathed, grinding down harder, taking me deeper. "Touch me... use me..."

I sat up partially, capturing a nipple in my mouth, sucking hard, and flicking it with my tongue, and she cried out, her hips bucking wildly. I moved to the other breast, my hands gripping her waist, helping her rise and fall, impaling her on my cock again and again.

"Fuck," she gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders. "Right there... don't stop..."

I thrust up to meet her downward movements, our bodies colliding with wet slaps, the lounger creaking beneath us. She was wild above me, riding me with abandon, her hair a dark curtain around her face, her eyes glazed with lust.

"I'm going to come," she warned, her movements becoming erratic, her pussy fluttering around my shaft. "Don't stop... make me come on your cock..."

I reached between us, finding her clit with my thumb, rubbing tight, hard circles, and she exploded, her back arching, her scream echoing across the gardens. Her pussy clamped down on me in rhythmic spasms, milking my cock, her juices flowing down my shaft to coat my balls.

"Again," she demanded, before she'd even fully come down, her hips never stopping. "Make me come again... I want to come twice before you fill me..."

I flipped her over suddenly, pinning her beneath me on the lounger, her legs wrapping around my waist, her heels digging into my lower back. I pounded into her with renewed vigor, the animal need taking over, the lounger scraping against the stone patio with each thrust.

"Yes!" she cried, her hands clawing at my back, her hips meeting mine thrust for thrust. "Harder! Fuck me like you mean it, stableboy! Fuck your married slut!"

The words drove me wild. I hammered into her, the sound of our bodies colliding loud in the quiet garden, her moans spiraling higher and higher. I felt her second orgasm building, her muscles tensing, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Come for me," I growled, my release building at the base of my spine. "Come on, my cock again, Aline..."

She shattered beneath me, her second climax even more intense than the first, her whole body convulsing, her pussy gripping me in violent spasms that threatened to push me over the edge. I gritted my teeth, holding back, wanting to prolong this moment, this perfect feeling of her coming apart around me.

Footsteps on gravel again. I didn't stop, couldn't stop, pounding into her through her orgasm.

"Madame," Peter's voice came, closer this time. "Will the gentleman be staying for dinner?"

Aline looked up at me, her eyes glazed, her lips swollen and red. She turned her head toward Peter, not breaking our rhythm, her voice casual despite the fact that I was buried balls-deep inside her.

"I believe he likes steak, Peter," she said, her breath hitching as I thrust particularly deep. "And he'll be spending the night."

I hesitated, the reality hitting me of what I was doing—fucking a man's wife in his garden while he was somewhere in the house.

Aline felt my hesitation. She grabbed my face, forcing me to look at her. "He will stay," she said firmly, her voice brooking no argument, her eyes commanding.

"Very well, Madame," Peter replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice. "I'll inform the kitchen.

I pressed into her, our rhythm unbroken, the lounger creaking beneath us as Peter stood at a respectful distance, his eyes politely averted but his presence undeniably there.

"Madame," he continued, clearing his throat slightly, "if I might offer a suggestion?"

"Of course, Peter," Aline gasped, her hips rolling against mine, my cock buried deep inside her. "You know I value your counsel."

"Perhaps, when you're riding the gentleman," he said with the same tone he might use to discuss wine pairings, "you might consider cupping his balls in your hand. Gentle pressure, rolling them between your fingers—it often enhances the male experience considerably, especially during the... final moments."

Aline moaned at the suggestion, her inner muscles fluttering around me. "Oh, that's delicious, Peter. Anything else?"

"Indeed, Madame. When you're astride him, pressing your breasts against his mouth—not just offering them, but truly smothering him with them—creates a delightful sense of overwhelm. Most young men respond enthusiastically to being... suffocated by a woman's bosom while she's mounted on them."

"Peter, you're a treasure," Aline breathed, her eyes gleaming down at me. She immediately shifted her weight, leaning forward so her heavy breasts hung above my face, then lowered them completely, pressing her soft flesh against my mouth and nose. "Like this?"

"Precisely, Madame," Peter confirmed, and I could hear the satisfaction in his voice. "You have such big, magnificent tits. He should be drowning in them while you ride him."

I was. Her breasts enveloped my face, her nipples dragging across my lips, and I opened my mouth to capture one, sucking hard as she began to move again. She reached between us with one hand, finding my balls where they were pressed against her ass, and cupped them gently, rolling them in her palm just as Peter had suggested.

"Oh god," I groaned against her breast, the dual sensation making my cock swell even harder inside her.

"Thank you, Peter," Aline purred, her voice thick with lust. "These are excellent suggestions. I'll implement them immediately."

"My pleasure, Madame," Peter replied, bowing slightly. "I shall leave you to your... implementation. Enjoy your evening."

"Wait," Aline called, not stopping her grinding hips, her hand still cradling my balls. "Peter, you've served this family for how long?"

"Twenty-three years, Madame."

"And in that time, how many... pool boys... have you advised me on?"

Peter paused, and I could almost hear the smile in his voice. "Last year, right after your wedding with the Duke, it was seven, Madame. But this one seems particularly... vigorous. I suspect he'll require substantial... guidance."

"Indeed," Aline laughed, squeezing my balls gently, making me groan. "Thank you for your continued wisdom, Peter."

"Always, Madame. Always."

And Madame?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"I hope you enjoy your... drink. And may I wish you a good fuck, Madame. And perhaps a third time when the gentleman pumps you full?"

"Thank you, Peter," Aline purred, her hips rising to meet my renewed thrusts. "That's very kind. Now leave us. I have a pool boy to drain completely."

"Of course, Madame."

We heard him walk away, and Aline turned her full attention back to me, her legs tightening around my waist. "Now," she whispered, her voice dark with promise. "Where were we? I believe you have a third orgasm to give me... and I intend to feel you explode inside me when I come around you this time..."

She reached down between us, fingering her clit as I fucked her, her muscles already beginning to flutter around me again, building toward that third, final climax. I was close, so close, my balls tight and heavy, my cock throbbing with the need to release.

"Come with me," she begged, her eyes locked on mine. "Fill me up, pool boy... pump your cum deep inside my married cunt..."

With those words, I couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, brutal upward thrust, I buried myself to the hilt and exploded, my cock pulsing jet after jet of hot seed into her waiting womb, triggering her own third orgasm. She came screaming, her body convulsing on me, her pussy milking every drop from my spasming cock.

We collapsed together on the lounger, the afternoon sun warming our entwined bodies, my cock flaccid, hanging on my thigh. Somewhere in the house, I could hear staff making the dinner preparations, and I wondered how much more Aline wanted from me.

To be continued.