I hate rich assholes.

I got a job cleaning boats at the Starlight Harbor Yacht Club the summer after my sophomore year of college. It was an easy gig. My folks always joked that I was built like an ox, so manual labor came second nature to me. What made the job suck was the members. I grew up less than fortunate, where we had to scrimp and save to put food on the table. This place was lightyears away from the world I knew, as Starlight Harbor attracts some of the most affluent and powerful names in the city. Because of that, it also attracts the most wasteful, entitled dickheads on the planet. Nothing feels good about being looked down on by some dude wanting to be called “The Captain” while I power wash the barnacles off the side of his $2 million dollar house boat. Nevertheless, the money was decent and I love being near the water. As a bonus, management let us bum food off the kitchen whenever there was a filet mignon not cooked to perfection.

I still hate rich assholes.

It was mid-July and my last summer at the club, the sun beating down on the harbor with no clouds for protection. It was surprisingly busy for a Tuesday, multiple boats coming in to rock the waves and their owners coming to drink and smoke themselves sick. I had sprayed down at least three vessels that day, my body sore and sweaty with my tank top off and tucked into my waistband. I was driving my maintenance cart around, looking for my next assignment when a silvery voice called down to me. “Excuse me! Sir!”

The voice drew my attention up to one of the yachts. Standing on the deck of a 60 footer named the “Nauti Girl” was a woman a little older than me trying to flag me down. I stopped my cart immediately. A blind man could tell you that she was stunning. She had a head full of ash blonde curls that fell onto her shoulders, a pristine white smile, and bronze skin that glowed in the sunlight. Not to mention her body was insane: tiny waist, hips like a vixen, and legs that went on for days. It didn’t help that the bikini she donned was impossibly small, a few pieces of white fabric held together by bits of string. As she waved, she jiggled enough to hypnotize me, making me lower my aviators to get a better look.

I hate rich assholes. But, God, do I love their trophy wives.

“Can I help you, Miss?” I shouted up to her.

“No one else is up here, and I need another set of hands for something,” she replied, the softest sprinkles of a Latin accent slipping through. “Would it be possible for you to come up on deck?”

I grimaced. “Sorry, Miss, I can’t. My boss would have my head.”

“It won’t be long, I promise! If someone asks, I’ll take the blame.”

I had no idea how I could possibly help her. Maybe she needed me to move a piece of furniture or something. And it really was policy that Starlight employees not board member vessels. But there was no one else walking around in the marina, and the prospect of getting a little closer to her was intriguing. “I’ll be right up.”

I parked my cart on the dock below, boarding at the stern where she was waiting. She was all smiles, her chocolate brown eyes shining behind her designer shades. She was even sexier up close, with a delicate nose, high cheekbones, and lips plump and red like strawberries. She craned up, placing her hands on my shoulders to kiss the air by my cheeks. The smell of sun oil on her was faint, overwhelmed by coconut and champagne. “Thank you so much for this. I’m Amara,” she said in greeting.

“Drake, and no problem,” I replied. “How can I be of service?”

“It’s on the upper deck. Follow me.” As she led me up the stairs, I struggled not to burn holes into her from my boyish ogling. That felt like an impossible task, given her bottoms were just a string lost within the most perfect peach of an ass. I adjusted myself in my shorts before I gave her the wrong impression, but every urge made me want to bite it. 

We reached the bow, the boat facing out into the sea. The sun’s rays caused the rippling water to glitter, the breeze wafting a salty wind of relief from the heat. I looked around for a task I could complete, but there was nothing but a sunbathing nest. I placed my hands on my hips, a confused look on my face. “So, what did you need my hands for?”

With a cheeky grin, Amara reached into her bag, pulling a bottle of sun oil from its depths. “I need some more sunscreen. Could you get my back?”

I stepped back, my heart tripping over itself as I held up my hands in surrender. “Oh boy,” I huffed with an uncomfortable laugh. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” she pouted. She put a few drops in her hands, running it over her shoulders. “I don’t have anyone else to do it for me, and I want my tan to be even.”

I swallowed as she took a few more drops to rub under the strings of her top, making her tits jiggle again. “I bet your husband would love to help,” I attempted to deflect.

“He’s inside with his friends, and he’ll be in there for a while.” She held out the bottle to me expectantly, fluttering her long, thick lashes. “Please? I’ll even tip you. And I always tip the staff well.”

My two brains were at war with one another. On the one hand, this is the wife of one of the club’s legacy members. He catches me with my hands all over his wife, and it’ll be my ass, no matter how much she explains it away. On the other hand… I get to put my hands all over his absolute smoke show of a wife. With a sigh, I took the bottle in my hands. “Alright. But I’ll have to be quick.”

“Perfecto.”

She turned away from me, slowly untying the string across her back. More stirs of panic as my dick twitched. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” She untied the top string, holding it to her chest as she looked over her shoulder, her smile turning wicked. “I don’t like tan lines.” She laid down on her stomach on the soft looking towel. She pulled the top from underneath her and tossed it to the side before settling her head on a matching pillow. I cautiously approached, like a bomb could go off with one wrong step. Women don’t usually intimidate me, but this woman was a different caliber. Danger wrapped in a delicious, bronzy package. I kneeled down at her side, ready to lather my hands when she stopped me. “Actually, and I don’t mean to be difficult, but do you mind sitting on me to do this?”

I blinked, as if I misheard her. “Like straddle your thighs?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “It’ll spread more evenly at that angle.”

This has to be a set up, I thought. Someone was hiding with cameras to come for both my job and my head. Or maybe this was a cruel prank or fetish I wasn’t privy to. But when I saw how nicely her ass sat while she laid down, all thoughts went out the window. How can a man live life without risks?

I tucked my stiffening dick where it wouldn’t be invasive and climbed over her legs. I dripped the oil onto her back, lathered some in my hands, and got to work. She melted under my touch with a sigh as I pressed my palms and fingers in. Her skin was soft as silk, pliable in my eager hands. As I increased pressure, she hummed, her ass wiggling closer to me. I sucked in a breath, trying to stay focused. I rubbed every inch of her back until her body shined, taking time to nestle my fingers into the places I felt tension. No clue how a woman this hot could be stressed, but when I hit a sweet spot, she replied in a satisfied moan. My dick’s reaction was Pavlovian.

“I want to make sure I get the back of my thighs as well,” she purred as I ran calloused fingers up her sides. “Do you mind?”

I scooted back with more oil in my hands, growing more comfortable as my cock grew more desperate. “Not at all.” Slippery hands met the warmth of her thighs, and she moaned a little more. “You seem awfully happy to just have sunscreen rubbed on you,” I teased.

I could hear her lazy smile in retort. “Because you give a better massage than the ones in the club. They should hire you to do this instead of cleaning the boats.”

“Nah, they couldn’t have me in the spa.” My hands slid up her legs to where they met that plump, juicy ass. I bit my lower lip as I gave it a little shake, testing what I could get away with. “I could only do very specific things to very specific clients.”

“Then I’m lucky to get such an exclusive service,” she giggled.

“Not as lucky as me.” More oil on my hands, more on her skin, then I started working it into the flesh of her ass. That string was not covering a goddamn thing, her holes winking back at me as I spread her wide. She whined as her back started to arch into me. There was no hiding how hard I was anymore. I wrapped my fingers around the strings of her bikini bottoms. “I thought you didn’t like tan lines?”

She looked back over her shoulder, big brown eyes glowing in the sunlight under hooded lids. “Oops. Silly me. Guess you’ll have to take them off.”

I pulled the strings as they fell apart, reaching under her to throw them away from her. “Why did you ask me aboard, Miss Amara?”

“I told you.” She opened her legs to give me a better view. That pussy was pristine, bare, and wet. “I just needed some sunscreen.”

“Really?” I cupped her in my hand, heat radiating off her. A finger worked her open until I could press her button. She moaned in response as I circled my fingers around her clit. “Because she’s telling me you need something much more…” I placed my lips on the dimples of her back, kissing her gingerly as I coated my fingers with her slick. The oil had no taste, leaving me to savor the sweetness of her skin. Each kiss earned me another moan, none of them as full as when my thumb entered what her lips hand hidden. Even around my thumb she squeezed, my cock pulsing with the need to replace it. “Such a naughty girl,” I groaned, “luring the help to satisfy you. Is your husband not showing this perfect body the love it deserves?”

Her words caught in her throat with another moan, her manicured nails balling the towel in her fists. “N-no…”

“Then allow me to right that unforgivable wrong.” 

My mouth continued its descent as I made her puddy with my hand, my tongue landing on her tan asshole. It tastes as delectable as everything else on her. My fingers spread and squeezed her clit as my tongue swirled between holes, and she bucked against it with a mewl, peaches and cream on my fingers. I continued my work as her moans crested like waves, rising and falling with every new sensation until she crashed into shore with a shuddering orgasm. She swore in Spanish as she ground her hips down for relief.

My fingers withdrew from her with a string of her arousal, my cock weeping onto my boxers with precum. I needed to fuck her before someone caught us. Her moans were going to expose us to the entire marina. I raced to tear off my shorts, my cock flying free as I straddled her again. I took the pillow from under her head and slotted it under her hips to raise her just right. “Hold this pussy open for me, baby.” She obeyed, putting that immaculate cunt on display. I licked my hand, giving myself two rough strokes before positioning myself at her center. She swallowed me up as I sank in. She was so fucking warm. “Goddammit…”

She whined again, lips wrapping around me and not letting me go. “Fuck… so… big…”

Her praises made me throb with pride. Gripping her hips with possessive fingers, I started rocking into her, long, mean strokes that bottomed out every time. She had to let go of herself to grab the towel again, each thrust sent a cry soaring from her pretty fucking mouth. I had to shut her up before she really gave us away. I leaned forward, covering her mouth with my hand. “You trying to get us caught, baby? Do you want everyone to know what a little slut you are?”

“No…” she groaned into my hand, eyes turned up to me with a pitiful face.

I rolled my hips, finding a way to get even deeper. I could feel her legs trembling. “Will putting my fingers in your mouth help? Will that shut you up, baby?” I teased. When she nodded yes enthusiastically, I thought I would bust my load right then and there. “Open up.”

She accepted three of my fingers between her lips, looking up at me as I fucked her harder. Her moans were vibrating against my hand like she just couldn’t help herself. So pretty. So needy. So hungry for my cock. I kept a murderous pace until her eyes fluttered closed, her cunt quivering violently on me as she cried into my hand. “Mmmmm!”

“Ahh, fuck!” It only took a few more pumps until I pulled away, my cum spreading hot ropes on her back. She was still trembling as I sat back on my heels, catching my breath. “God,” I chuckled with a lust drunk grin, giving her ass one last jiggle. “Such a naughty, naughty girl.”

After she came down and I cleaned her up, she handed me a hefty sum of cash with a kiss on my cheek. I thought about making a joke that it made me a gigolo, but I decided to keep my mouth shut in case she needed my services again. She went back to tanning naked on her husband’s expensive ass boat, and I disappeared into the lower deck to return to my summer of servitude.

On the way off the stern, an older man approached, struggling to keep his drunken balance. I knew by the captain’s hat and old, flabby body that he was the elusive husband. He raised his fist at me, his eyes unfocused and his face scrunched in anger. “Hey. What the fuck are you doing on my boat? I didn’t pay for a cleaning.”

I tossed my tank top into the golf cart, “Oh, sorry, sir. Your wife requested me.”

“Oh?” he scoffed while raising an unamused brow. “And what could she want with you?”

The wad of cash grew heavy in my pocket as my smile grew smug. If only he knew. “You should ask her, ‘Captain.’ She told me that she just needed sunscreen.”

I knew I could get fired. But I couldn’t give a single shit. I love fucking with rich assholes.