My First Forbidden Fuck by the Pool
The poolside lounger creaked under me that humid evening. Four-year-old Henri sulked inside, but I didn’t care. Sun dipping low, storm brewing, I stared at the water’s blue shimmer, missing my girl back in Catalonia. Heart thumping slow, lazy. Then the gate hummed. Her Porsche growled up the gravel, drowning the mower’s buzz. Candice stepped out, all power suit and heels, blonde hair pinned tight. My pulse quickened. She’d caught me pissing that morning by the willow, my cock half-hard from a dream. Did she see? Fuck, the thought stirred me. She kicked off shoes, glanced at the pool, headed inside. Minutes later, out she came: red bikini hugging curves, tits straining fabric, ice bucket, cognac, two glasses. Our eyes locked. She poured, we clinked. She chugged, refilled, gulped straight from the bottle. World spun. Her gaze burned hungry. All day I’d daydreamed her boss-lady vibe, but now? She scooted close, foot sliding into my swim trunks. Toes gripped my cock, pulled it free. Thick, veined, twitching in open air. I froze. Heart slammed ribs. This was real. No turning back. Fear mixed with fire low in my gut. She wanted me. Nervous sweat beaded despite the heat. Her toes stroked, clumsy at first, exciting as hell. I hardened fast, pre-cum slicking her skin. ‘Catalan whispers,’ I murmured, words she didn’t get but felt. Lust. Surrender. She grinned wicked, eyes wild from booze and need.
She yanked her bikini top off. Full tits spilled out, brown nipples stiff. She pinched them, moaned soft. My breath hitched. Cock throbbed. She shoved bikini bottom aside, not off. Straddled me slow. Ass cheeks spread wide. Wait—ass? No pussy. Her hole winked, slick from… someone else? Day-old cum lubed it perfect. Raw, forbidden. I gasped as her ring gripped my tip. Tight. Hot. She sank down, inch by inch. Fuck, the squeeze. Virgin ass for me? No, but first time feeling that velvet clamp. Heart exploded in my chest. She rocked, awkward at first—hips jerking uneven, lounger groaning. Rain started pattering. Thunder growled distant. Her walls milked me, sphincter pulsing like a fist. I grabbed her tits, squeezed hard, sucked nipples deep. Salty skin, rain mixing sweat. She bounced faster, ass slapping my thighs. Clumsy rhythm built frenzy. My balls tightened. Never felt this—raw power, her moans feral. Storm hit full, sheets of water soaking us. Lightning flashed her face: pure ecstasy. Kid cried inside, ignored. Tension coiled unbearable. She slowed when I neared edge, teasing. Prolonging. My first real ride like this, no effort from me—just her devouring. Cock buried deep, her shit-lubed hole churning. I bucked up, clumsy thrusts. Explosion hit. Cum surged, flooding her guts. She clenched, came hard, nails digging my chest.
The Approach
Rain hammered as we panted, still joined. Lightning lit her grin—triumphant, wicked. Innocence? Gone. That lazy pool dream shattered into sharp adulthood. Thunder crashed; Henri wailed unheard. Headlights pierced the downpour. Pascal’s SUV roared up. He missed the mower somehow, but we were exposed. My heart raced again—fear now, post-fuck haze sharpening. She laughed low, unashamed. He saw us, face twisting rage through rain-streaked glass. Backed up furious—crunch. Mower mangled under tires. Her laugh pealed louder. I slipped out, spent cock softening in the deluge. Changed forever. No more boyish daydreams. Tasted real hunger, betrayal’s edge. That summer marked me: thrill of the unknown, clumsy peaks, irreversible plunge. Pool water rippled gray, robot cleaner humming oblivious. Storm passed; so did my naivety.
