The Pool Boy

Jasmine buried her head in her hands. "Ooooh, Rhea. It all got so out of hand, so out of control." She shook her head. "I don't know what happened, or why we did it. I don't know why we didn't stop or come to our sense. It's all so wrong." Rubbing her face, she sat back up.

"We stayed like that for a moment, a very long moment." She shivered in her terrycloth robe, remembering. "Then it was like we both woke up from a dream. He didn't say anything, I didn't say anything. He just got out of the Heartspring and left and now I don't know what to do. I stayed there for a long, long time and then got dressed and came straight here. I don't even know why I did that because I was following your advice in the first place!" She stamped one wedge-heeled foot on the floor.

"Why? Because I'm your friend, darlin'." Rhea stood, and her robe parted briefly to expose the sheer length of her legs, stark white against the black silk. "You polish off that cuppa, and then I'll get some medicine into you." She winked, and walked towards the stairs leading down.

"Sean!" The statuesque redhead called down. "Bring up two Mothers' Milks when you get a chance, will you?"

"Yes mum!" Came a deep male voice from below.

"He's a good boy," Rhea winked. "Deep down, they all want to be a good boy for mum. Making mum happy makes them happy."

Jasmine rubbed her face while Rhea's words sunk into her brain. She spoke softly, insistently, but sometimes... it felt like each word was a door slamming shut in her head. Of course Henry just wanted to be a good boy for her, and it did feel good when he did what she said, didn't it? Given her a little tingle, and he hadn't even asked for anything crazy - just a little help, here and there - and there was certainly nothing wrong with that was there? And besides, even if she did ask him to do something wrong, it was okay to be naughty sometimes, even exciting!

"There he is!" Exclaimed Rhea, disrupting her train of thought. Coming up the stairs was a slim young man of about 20 or so, wearing the standard Jocasta's uniform for men: a tight white t-shirt that showed off the slight v-shape of his torso, and loose black pants. His bright red hair and pallid complexion were clearly inherited from his mother. In either hand, he held a large glass goblet filled to the brim with a milky solution, a slice of pineapple hanging over the side of each glass while brightly-coloured paper umbrellas rolled along the rim at a jaunty angle. "Bring them here, Sean." She was seated in her easy chair again, looking like a queen as she beckoned for her son to come over. She'd crossed one long pale leg over the other, and bounced her foot impatiently.

He came to his mother first, gently handing over the drink, then bending for a kiss on the mouth, that lingered for just a moment too long. They parted with a slightly wet, sticky sound, and Sean brought Jasmine her drink. She sniffed it, diffidently. She'd actually never seen a drink so large.

"Thank you, darlin'," Rhea said as her son perched on the arm of her chair; one of her hands slid up and onto his knee. "Go ahead and drink up, lovely. It'll calm your nerves." Jasmine took a sip; it was sweet and spicy and very alcoholic, but the moment the liquid hit her tongue, she could feel the tension lift from her shoulders. "See? Feels better already, doesn't it?" Jasmine nodded.

"This is my boy, Sean." The young man waved. "He runs the kitchen over in the main building, so if you had breakfast this morning, he's the one who made sure it was edible. Sean, this is our new friend Jasmine; she's staying at the spa with her lad, Henry. She's had a bit of a fright, so she just popped in for a nip." Rhea gently stroked her son's leg as her guest took another drink.

"You don't mind when mum asks you do to her favours, do you, Sean?"

"Nah," he shook his head. "I love it. You've got a better head on your shoulders than I do, anyway. I'd be lost without you." His mother squeezed his leg, above the knee.

"See?" Rhea said. "Jasmine feels guilty about getting Henry to do things for her." She explained. Sean laughed, heartily.

"Foolishness!" He spat out. "There's nothing I love better than ob- than doing something nice for mum." Rhea's hand crept up his thigh.

"Every boy wants to make his mum happy," she said, and Jasmine nodded again. "And to tell you the truth, it's better than having a husband! He'll stick around, for one thing. Won't you, Sean?"

"Oh yeah," he enthused. "Where would I go without you?" Rhea's hand was dangerously high in his lap.

"Mmmm," she purred. "You've no idea how happy that makes your old mum to hear." Her fingertips walked around on the surface of Sean's upper thigh. Jasmine drank deeply of the Mother's Milk, watching the pair in front of her. While her hand walked around in her son's lap, Rhea was subtly rubbing her legs together. It couldn't be a bad thing for a mother to let her son make her so happy, could it? She remembered the pleasurable tingle that came along with watching Henry neatly stack her towels on the bench, and began to rub her own thighs together.

"...not old, mum," Sean was saying. "You're mature - and gorgeous to boot!" One of Rhea's fingers looked like it was sliding along the inside of his leg.

"What about our guest, darlin'?" His mother asked, gesturing at Jasmine. "Stand up, lovely. Take off your robe." She took another pull from the goblet and did as Rhea suggested, knowing that she shouldn't, that she never would have before, that it was just so naughty, disrobing in front of a handsome young man she'd only met ten minutes previously. The robe fell to her feet, and she saw Sean's eyes go wide. He breathed out in a low whistle. "Don't be shy now, give us a spin." Rhea made a circle motion with her drink. Still slightly wobbly on the unfamiliar shoes, Jasmine turned in a slow circle, and heard Sean gasp once she'd presented her behind to him. Emboldened by the alcohol, she bent at the waist a little, pushing her thick booty towards him, enjoying the sensation of having his eyes crawling all over her body, knowing she was teasing this young man, her friend's own son. Forbidden pleasure coursed through her, and she rubbed her thighs together more urgently, feeling the moisture beginning to seep into the fabric of the suit. Jasmine looked back over her shoulder at Sean.

"Henry's a lucky lad," he said, voice slightly distant. All of Rhea's fingers were inside his thigh now, her wrist working in short strokes.

"Isn't he." Sean's mother agreed. "I told you Ronnie would set you up right, didn't I? I'm surprised she didn't try to sell you something even more...revealing." Jasmine blushed. "Oh she did!" Rhea chuckled. "I hear we're supposed to get a break in the clouds tomorrow. You should wear it tomorrow out by the pool, get some son on you. I bet Henry wouldn't mind getting outside either."

"That's such a good idea," Jasmine enthused, turning all the way through the circle. "I haven't seen the sun for days now; not since we crossed the border. Do you really like the suit, Sean?"

"Oh yeah," he said, panting a little. She sat down in her chair, crossing her legs slowly in a lengthy display of smooth brown thigh. She watched his eyes tracking the motion of her legs and wished there was a discreet way for her to slip her hand in between them. Jasmine went to take another drink from her goblet, and found it was empty.

"Do you want another?" Rhea asked. "Go on and tell him."

"Can I-"

"Tell him." Sean's mother insisted.

"Sean," Jasmine began, clearing her throat. "Go and make me another drink." Then, after a moment, she added, "please." He glanced down at his mother, who gave him a tiny nod.

"Yes ma'am," Sean said with a grin, standing up and crossing the floor to take the glass from her. The curvy little brunette's head felt hazy, but there was no mistaking the pleasure she felt telling him what to do, and another when he agreed. She gave him a searing once-over as he passed, noting that there was a quarter-sized wet stain on the thigh of his pants, right where Rhea's hand had been.

"Feels good, yeah?" Rhea asked. "There's nothing wrong with feeling good, just like there's nothing wrong with being naughty." Jasmine nodded and watched as Sean's tight behind wiggled away down the stairs. "Don't feel bad about feeling good, lovely. That's what you came here for, after all. And what else is a son for, if not makin his mum feel good? Nothing, that's what."

Henry's mother closed her eyes, relishing the sensations flowing through her body, fueled by the alcohol and Rhea's words and the new knowledge being written in her brain as doors slammed shut in there. She stretched out in the easy chair, curling her toes and rubbing her thighs together as the fabric of the suit squished in between them. She giggled.

"It feels so good to feel good," she said. Rhea laughed.

"It's the meaning of life," the redhead told her. A liquid lethargy began seeping through of Jasmine's limbs, despite the sensations emanating from her pussy. She rubbed her face again with one hand; her body felt like it was floating, almost. Was it the alcohol? Somebody pressed something cold and wet into her slackening fingers.

"Is she alright, mum?" Sean's voice came from another planet. Jasmine's fingers curled tight around the stem of the goblet.

"She's alright," Rhea said. "Jasmine's just having a bit of a dream is all. Now come here and give your mum a proper kiss." There were wet noises and the sound of clothes rustling. Feeling far away, she opened one eye a crack, and saw a blurry shape on the far (soooo far!) side of the room, a writhing moving mix of white and black and red.

"Oh!" Rhea's voice came in a gasp. "Your hand is cold. Here." More clothing rustled. "Mmmm...there, that's warmer, isn't it?"

"Mum I've been thinking about it all day, ever since this morning, when you-" Sean was cut short by something, then wet noises ensued. Jasmine closed her eye again, feeling her head (so heavy!) loll forward onto her chest. It felt like it was going to take a lot of effort to lift it again.

"That's right, use your fingers just like that," Rhea cooed. "Now, deeper!" Jasmine smiled a sleepy satisfied grin. Whatever was going on in her dream sounded an awful lot like foreplay. "You have been waiting for your mum all day, haven't you?"

"Please, please touch it," he begged.

"It's mum's cock and she'll do what she likes with it," Rhea laughed. Jasmine laughed too.

"She's still awake," Sean hissed.

"Nobody told you to comment," Rhea said, suddenly stern. "For that you can get down on your knees and put your tongue to better use."

Though more sounds reached her ears from across the room, Jasmine heard no more.

* * *

Her head pounded as she stepped outside, Henry holding the door open for her. Rhea had been right - where the last couple of days had been miserably overcast and foggy, the summer sun was blazing overhead. At least she had mastered her shoes, despite the dizzying hangover, Jasmine thought as she strode into the sun past him.

Instead of the thick terrycloth robe, she was wearing a teal cover-up the woman down at the shop had sent up in the bag with her other purchases - really just an oversized t-shirt that wouldn't stop sliding off her bare brown shoulders. Oversized sunglasses and a floppy hat kept the sun at bay.

"Are you sure you're alright for this, mom?"

"I think a nice long lie-down in the sun is just what the doctor ordered." Jasmine said brusquely. "Provided you don't mind taking care of me." She flashed him a look over her shoulder.

"No! Not at all," he said, blushing hotly.

"Good boy," his mother purred. Her headache was beginning to abate already in the warm sun. The gravel in the path crunched under their feet as he followed her to the outdoor pool, a kidney-shaped area just outside the main building itself and tucked away behind a thick hedge with an imposing iron gate. A couple dozen chaise longues were scattered about, with the odd, closed umbrella. There was a tiny swim-up bar on the far side, shuttered for the morning.

"Put the bag there, please Henry." Jasmine gestured at the foot of a chaise close to the pool, under the shade of an open umbrella. She seated herself and looked up at her son, who was standing there, looking vaguely uneasy and at loose ends. His fingers played nervously with the belt of his robe. "You can take that off, honey. You'll bake in this heat."

"Mom these shorts are a little-"

"Don't be silly, honey. There's nobody else here," the sweep of her arm encompassed the empty pool area. "Besides, I bought them for you, and I want to make sure they fit. Now take off your robe."

"Yes, mom." He said, cowed. Jasmine had to suppress a mewl as a brief thrill of pleasure coursed through her. Henry let the belt of his robe fall loose, and shrugged it off. As the terry cloth flumped to the ground, she was suddenly struck by how closely her son resembled Greek god or ancient Olympic athlete, cast in bronze. From his tight cap of black curls to the pout of his mouth, the youthful flawlessness of the brown skin he'd inherited from her to the tightly packed lean muscle rippling just underneath it, she had no doubt he could have been found in miniature in some Renaissance artist's garret. Of course, no sculptor would have included the tiny black speedos Henry wore, or the impressive bulge that they barely contained.

Staring directly at her son's crotch, Jasmine said, "yes, they look like they fit. Turn around, please?" His buttocks stretched the Lycra drum tight across their roundness. In a fit of naughtiness, she reached up and snapped the band crossing over his right cheek. It slapped back into place with a satisfying smack, and she found herself suddenly come all over with the urge to squeeze it. There was a fluttering heat building between her thighs, but she resisted the urge nonetheless.

"Yes they look very nice." Jasmine said in a husky voice. "Do you like them?"

"They're really tight," he said.

"Yes, I know." She tried not to run her fingers over his sun-warmed skin. "That's to reduce resistance." Failing, she trailed her nails down his thigh. "When you're swimming. Go on. Jump in."

Jasmine stretched herself out on the chaise as she watched Henry dash towards the water, saw those powerful leg muscles coil and spring as he launched himself into the pool. She dropped her shoes to the floor as his long brown body sliced through the water, wiggling her toes and letting her legs drift apart. Henry began to do laps in the water as she peeled off the cover-up, tossing it on top of her shoes. Leaning back, she looked up into the canopy of the open umbrella above and frowned.

"Henry," she called out. "Can you come here a moment and fix this damn thing for me?"

His head popped up over the edge of the pool. "What?"

"Come here." Jasmine said crisply. "And fix. This umbrella. I want to feel the sun on my skin."

"Yes, mom." Henry said, pulling himself out of the pool, and she could only stare as water coursed down over his torso, dripping from his pectoral muscles and running in rivulets through the gutters of his abs. He padded over, eyes locked on the supine form of his mother.

Jasmine was wearing a color-blocked bikini in a bright blue and electric green, a stark contrast with the deep brown of her skin. The bandeau top was barely sufficient to hold in the voluminous flesh of her breasts as it was, and as she laid back on the chaise they threatened to pour out with every breath. The diminutive bottoms made for a bright triangle of colour cut across the soft, smooth skin of her stomach, dipping briefly in between the plush thickness of her thighs. Eyes hidden beneath dark glass, she regarded her son as his gaze raked over her. A smile played over her luscious mouth.

"Close the umbrella, Henry darling," she said, gesturing at it. The thick black lump in his Speedos had grown, pushing sideways along his thigh. He reached over her body to grab the stand, fiddling with the catch and jiggling the slick black Lycra package over her abdomen. Droplets of water splashed down on her tummy. Eventually, he loosened the mechanism, and the open canopy collapsed, drenching mother and son in blazing sunlight.

"Oh my," Jasmine cooed. "That is so very much better. Thank you, Henry." The heat that suffused through her body was more than just solar, she knew.

"In that bag, you should find some sunscreen," she said, rolling over onto her stomach. "I'd really rather not burn." She wiggled her behind in his general direction. "Put some on my back."

"Yes, of course," Henry said, and began rifling through the bag. It felt so good to watch him jump to do her bidding; Jasmine smiled, catlike, feeling like a queen. "This?" He asked, holding up a white bottle. She nodded.

"Legs first," she said, kicking one foot. Turning to rest her head on her arms, Jasmine was soon rewarded by the sensation of thick, sun-warmed cream splatting up and down the back of one thigh, then her son's big, strong hands as they smoothed it out over her skin. His palms skimmed down the back of her thigh, then encircled her calf, working in the greasy lotion; she really couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so well-taken-care-of, or just plain good, for that matter. "Make sure you get my thighs, Henry. Even on the inside. The skin is very sensitive in there."

"Yes'm," he muttered, applying more lotion and driving his big hands between her legs, smearing it between them, knuckles brushing dangerously close to the gusset of her bikini bottoms. They both paused for a moment in shock at the near-contact, neither aware that the other was also holding a breath; then, he went back in, brushing just a fraction of an inch closer. 'Naughty boy,' she thought to herself, as moisture began to seep out from between her labia and into the fabric.

On his third pass, she said in a soft voice, "I think that's enough there for now, Henry. Do the other leg." And he obeyed.

As he applied sunscreen to her other leg, Jasmine said, "it makes your old mum so happy when you take care of her like this, Henry darling. Do you like it?"

"Yeah," he said, rubbing harder, fingers kneading. "I don't know what it is about this place, mom... But, I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" She looked back at him over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry for being a shit." Henry gave his mother a hangdog look. "I know I'm not- I know I don't help out very much. I know you do everything for me. Did everything for me. But, since we got here..." he groped for the words even as his fingertips dug into her thigh. "I like doing things for you. I like it when you ask me to do things. I makes me feel good, I dunno. Really good." He took a deep breath. "When we get home, I promise, I'll keep on taking care of you if you want. Maybe I'll even take a gap year or something. Would that be okay? Would you like that, mom?"

Jasmine's body flushed with pleasure and she had to bury her face in her arms again to suppress a sudden wet moan that threatened to burst forth from her core.

"Yes, Henry," her voice was muffled by her forearm. "That would make mummy very happy indeed. Now keep going, sweetheart. You're not done yet." Behind here came the sounds of the sunscreen bottle wheezing out more lotion, and his hands were back on her thighs, heading upwards. "Higher, please." His slippery fingers slipped across the broad globes of her buttocks; she could feel her son's fingers trembling as he touched her but tried not to but had to. Jasmine subtly hunched her behind upwards a little, letting the forbidden thrill flood through her. It was one thing in the Heartspring, where nobody could see, but out here, outside under the sun where any guest could come wandering through the gate, the feeling was so much more intense.