They say she’s had her eye on the pool boy. Rumors whispered between dripping martinis and jealous neighbors. While I worked the water, she watched me like a secret she was finally ready to taste. One look was all it took. She didn’t ask—I didn’t hesitate. On her knees by the pool, lips parting not for words, but for something far more urgent. But the sun couldn’t handle us. The heat was too much. She took my hand and led me into her sanctuary—a bedroom bathed in soft light and silk sheets, where she let me worship her properly. Slow. Deep. Thorough. And for one breathless afternoon, I got to experience what most men only dream of—her.