Drained by the Pool Boy

“Let’s see…your name is Duke, right?”

“Yes, Mr. O’Neill.”

“Please, you can call me Steve.” I flash him a warm smile. “As you’re aware, I just moved into the area and need to hire staff to help me run this place. You’re interested in applying for the pool boy position, correct?”

“That’s right. I’ve always been an avid swimmer, and I love the outdoors.” He grins. “I usually spend my summers working as a lifeguard, but I’m looking to try something new.”

His brilliant green eyes focus on me intently as he speaks, projecting a sense of calm authority. He certainly looks like a lifeguard—he’s got the sandy blond hair, the honey-hued skin, and the swimmer’s build. He’s wearing shorts and a t-shirt, but I can see the toned curvature of his pecs beneath the fabric. Frankly, I’m surprised he’s applying to work at my house for the summer. He’s a fit, college-aged guy—I imagine he’d rather be doing something more exciting.

“You realize this will be a solo job, right? It’ll primarily just be you and me for the summer. I live here alone.”

“Oh yeah, that’s fine.” He leans back in his seat. “To be honest, I recognize your name. It isn’t every day a famous musician moves into the area.”

Damn, there it is. I was hoping to avoid this, but I’m sure he’s seen the tabloids. My recent divorce and abrupt relocation have been all over the papers.

“Yeah, I needed to escape and move somewhere far away from the ex-wife.” I chuckle. “I’m hoping to maintain a low profile though, so don’t expect to rub elbows with celebrities here.”

“Oh, of course not. I understand the value of discretion.” He sits up in his seat. “I just wanted you to know I’m a fan of your music. That’s all.”

“Well, that’s appreciated.” I nod politely. “But what’s important here is that you understand pool maintenance. Can you take care of that?”

“Absolutely. My family has had a pool my entire life. I’m a pro!” He gives me a cocky, playful thumbs-up.

His lighthearted, youthful energy is a breath of fresh air. The others I’ve interviewed for this role hardly seemed interested, but he appears to really want to work here. I bet he’d do a great job.

“Alright. You’re hired.” I reach out to shake his hand.

“Woah, really?! Just like that?!”

“Yep. You seem like a good fit.”

“Thanks, Mr. O’Neill—I mean, Steve.” He grips my hand and gives me a powerful, firm handshake.

“Don’t mention it. Arrive here at 9 AM tomorrow, and I’ll show you around.”

I lead him to the front door and wave as he departs.

Thank god. That was the last interview for the day. Housekeepers, groundskeepers, a pool boy…the list of positions is endless. Maybe I should’ve picked a smaller property, but I bought the first one I found that looked decent. My divorce was messy, and I just needed to get away from my ex-wife as fast as possible.

I close the front door and step into the cavernous foyer. White marble flooring reflects light from the enormous crystal chandelier hanging high above. The beams glitter and dance across the aged paintings hanging on the pale blue walls. I’m a bit of an art collector, and I’ve been eager to get my collection displayed.

A stately staircase wraps around the room, leading up to the second floor. As I walk beneath and through a hallway leading toward the kitchen, I realize how ridiculous it is for a single man to own a house this large. My echoing footsteps are a reminder of my newfound loneliness. For the first time in over a decade, I’m on my own.

Not that it makes much of a difference. The final years of my marriage were dry and sexless. When I first met my wife, we were both young and voracious. We’d fuck everywhere we got the chance—in the car, in the yard, at our parent’s house…it was a wonder we never got caught. I was the stereotypical young musician, constantly in the mood to stick my fat dick in wet pussy.

But as we aged, we drifted apart. My libido stayed constant, but hers seemed to dry up. It led to a constant state of frustration which only made the news of her affair even more insulting. I held back for years, while she was secretly getting an endless supply of cock on the side.

I’m never going to let that happen again. Now that I’m free, I’m going to have as much filthy, sweaty sex as humanly possible. I’m already in my late 40s, and I have years of catching up to do. My cock is prepared for the challenge though—it’s geared up and ready to go. I feel like a barbarian chieftain, ready to venture forth and amass a legendary harem of blonde concubines.

That’ll have to wait for a bit though. I’m still getting settled into this cavernous house, and I want to make sure everything goes smoothly with the staff. Duke seems interesting. I think it’ll be fun to have a younger guy working as the pool boy. Maybe we can pop a couple beers tomorrow after I show him around the property.

*BEEEEEEP*

I smack the off button on my alarm clock and immediately fall back asleep.

As light begins to peek through my blinds, I finally wake up. My body aches as I roll over to check the time…fuck! I overslept. Goddamnit!

I leap from my bed and rush to the shower. The icy water helps wash away my fatigue as I try to remember my plans for the day. Oh yeah—the pool boy is coming this morning. He should be here any minute.

Exiting the shower, I dry and throw on some clothes. I brush my teeth with lightning speed, and as I’m tidying my hair, a noise emanates from downstairs.

*knock* *knock* *knock*

“Coming!” I call out as I race down the grand staircase toward the front door.

I fling it open and freeze. My pool boy is here, but he’s not dressed the way I expected.

Duke is wearing nothing but a speedo and flip-flops. I suppose that’s reasonable pool boy attire, but it’s still jarring. The bright morning sun rains down on his tan skin, causing it to glow with a summery sheen. He has wide shoulders and long, muscular arms that guide my eyes down the length of his lean chest and tight abs. His tiny waist gives way to toned legs with visible muscle striations in his thighs. The light dusting of freckles on his shoulders and upper chest signals a fondness for sunshine and the outdoors. He’s got a classic swimmer’s physique.

But he’s got more than that.

He wears a dark blue speedo with a yellow waistband, and it leaves nothing to the imagination. His bulge is monstrous. It looks like he’s got a fist bunched up in that pouch. I’ve never seen anything like it—it’s borderline inhuman. Fuck—I’m jealous.

“Woah.” I stand awkwardly in the doorway as the word falls from my lips.

“Hey, Steve! I’m ready for work!”

I peel my gaze from his bulge and look up into his jade eyes. Judging by the devilish smirk on his masculine face, I suspect he noticed me staring. With a cock like that, he must be used to this kind of reaction.

“I-I guess you are.” I feel my cheeks redden. “Come inside and I’ll show you around.”

He picks up his flip-flops and carries them as I give the grand tour of the house. The kitchen, the master bedroom, the movie theater, the gym—but most pertinently, the pool.

“Oh, damn! You’ve got an awesome pool!” His eyes light up as we head into the back yard.

He’s right. The pool is vast and sports a tall rock formation and a manmade waterfall along the edge. Beneath the surface, LED lights glow, illuminating the water with a gentle blue hue.

“Thanks! It was one of the main reasons I bought this place. I’m a sucker for a great pool.”

“You and me both!” He pats me on the back.

As his hand makes contact, I feel something strange. It’s like something is stirring deep within me. I suppose it’s a sense of comradery. I’ve been awfully lonely these past few weeks, and it’s nice to be around someone I click with.

“You know the drill, I’m sure. I need help with water chemistry, skimming, and cleaning. You only need to come once a week, but if you want to visit more often and just swim or hang out, you’re welcome to.”

I feel a bit surprised. I wasn’t planning on making him that offer, but it just kinda slipped out. I suppose it’s just that isolation I’ve been feeling since the divorce. I hope he doesn’t think it’s weird that a guy twice his age would want to hang out.

“Damn! Swimming with the legendary Steve O’Neill…I’m down!” He grins as a feeling of relief washes over me.

“Sounds like a plan.” I smile back. “There’s not much that needs to be done today, so you’re welcome to stick around and enjoy the place.”

“Awesome!” He drops his flip-flops and races toward the pool, diving in and making a loud splash.