I have never been in a bathroom this nice. First off, it’s huge, with high ceilings. Brightly lit with two skylights and a big picture window overlooking the backyard and lights built-in behind the mirror and along what appears to be a makeup bench and near the carpeted dressing area and over the large bathtub with jets in it and all throughout the shower, there’s no dark corner in the space. And despite its size, the pink marble and soft pale ceramics and plush mats and towels and seashells on the walls keep it warm and homey. It’s even got a separate room for the toilet!

As I peel off my sweat-soaked shirt and soil-stained jeans, I peer out at the hillside sloping away from the home at where I’d spent all morning. As if I need another reminder of the peaty musk I’m eager to wash off myself.

“Can you believe it? I mean, can you?” That was a week ago when Mary, my mother’s good friend, was showing Mom something on her phone.

Mary was chatting with her while dropping off some leftovers, but I butted my way in to see what was so unbelievable. On Mary’s phone was a photo of a once-nice yard now struck by a localized disaster.

“It’s the damned utility company,” she explained, “They’ve got some underground something they said needed replacing, said they had the rights to just go tearing up my yard to fix it. I said, well, when are you going to put it back together? And they said they didn’t have to. How is that even legal? It’s ridiculous.”

My mother clucked in agreement.

“Now I’ve got to go find some landscaper — you know I had such problems with my last guy — and probably pay a ton of money just to get it back to how it was when it all started. Ridiculous. Just ridiculous.”

“I’ll do it,” I found myself saying, “I’ll fix your yard.”

Both woman turned to me with shock on their faces. Almost as much as I was feeling. Did I just…?

Yet my mouth continued down the path. “It’ll be fun, a neat little project.” My words were digging myself deeper into this hole much to the fervent disapproval of my brain. “I can start Saturday morning. That work for you?”

Mary’s sculpted eyebrows were the highest I’d ever seen them. “You’re serious, Brian? It’s… going to require a lot of hard work. A lot of, um, muscle.” The thing you should know about me is that I’m a skinny little scrap of a man, barely nineteen years old and not what you’d describe as ‘brawny.’

“Oh yeah,” I said with an earnestness originating somewhere below my belt, “I’m totally up for it.” The thing you should know about Mary is that there’s nothing maternal about her. She’s thrown her life into working up to some C-suite position at an investment trust. And she’s fucking gorgeous, with a perfect figure that’s surely required massive effort to maintain but no less glorious for the fact, including tits so huge there’s simply no disguising them, such as this particular morning when she’s relatively dressed down in her designer workout clothes, that lycra jacket curving so generously out from her chest. To say I’m infatuated with her would be an understatement.

She looks at my mom. Mom shrugs. “Ok, well…” Mary says, then shrugs herself, “Sure, if you think you can do it, Brian. Saturday it is. You know where I live?”

So this morning I find myself behind a sprawling estate trudging through a sculpted hillside with a million-dollar view overlooking the valley below. I’d heard that her house was nice, but damn.

And then there’s Mary herself, smiling graciously when she answers the door, showing me the damage while wearing a low-cut halter and low-rise denim pants which send pangs of desire through me. She points at the uprooted and disarrayed detritus as I cling to my full-size spade and handheld trowel. “Just, do what you can, Brian. I’m not expecting miracles.”

“You got it, Mary!” I may sound too eager.

She turns to me sharply with a frown. I avoid looking at her cleavage with a smile. Her eyes narrow. “How’s that internship working out for your sister?”

“Oh, she’s loving it,” I say, “Won’t stop talking about it, actually.” Mary had set it up for her, calling in some minor favor.

“I hear good things about her.”

“Yeah,” I point out a spot on the hillside, “So the citrus trees, here, there, there?”

She nods and gives me the plan. I can tell from her tone she doesn’t believe I’ll get it done. But I’m determined to prove her wrong, and get into it. And it’s hard work, tiring, exhausting, beats me up something good and covers me with dirt and dust and sweat. Mary watches me work, supervising, refilling my water. Her presence keeps me motivated — especially her boobs so well-presented in her v-cut halter top — and after several grueling hours I to even my own surprise get the repairs done. She looks impressed, so it’s worth it, but I feel like I’ve run a marathon and I turn the garden hose on myself to spray off.

“Nonsense, Brian,” she stalks over, laughing, “I didn’t pay all this money for a fancy house with fancy bathrooms just to have you hose down like some sort of baboon. Come inside, use the shower like a civilized man.”

Are baboons known for hosing down? I don’t press the question, just limp my weary self behind her as she takes me deep into her home and up the stairs and through her master suite until we arrived here, her inner sanctum, a palace of a bathroom, a sprawling space bigger than my bedroom.

“It’s so refreshing, my private little spa,” she introduces the place, “Just make yourself at home, use whatever you need.”

I nod as she leaves me to it, the door clicking solidly shut behind her, yet her presence lingers in everything about the space. The bathroom is intensely hers, filled with her soaps and her lotions and her balms and her makeups and her perfumes and her style. Perhaps even, in one of these many cabinets, her dildoes. Being here is making me a little dizzy, to be honest, or maybe it’s just me imagining her bent over in her spa tub, fucking herself.

As I undress I look to the window. From this vantage high up on the second story I can spy my morning’s handiwork, the trees looking secure now in new fresh-packed dirt, the flower planters nailed back into their proper shape, the irrigation system once again pumping to keep Mary’s landscaping thriving. And I can also see Mary herself casting her critical gaze about the place, doubtless inspecting her yard for further flaws to remedy with her new source of free labor.

She turns, spots me in the window. She smiles and waves. I blush and wave back as I quickly dip my naked self from view. I don’t think she could see anything critical? But no helping it now, I suppose, and I step into the shower.

It’s incredible. Spacious. I can reach out with both arms and not touch either wall. Warm jets of water soak me from three sides while another rains down on me from above. The runoff is caught by an invisible drain lining the perimeter, preventing water from running out the doorless entry. It really is like being at a spa. A man could get used to living like this.

I pick an inoffensive bodywash and start to lather up. And… well, between the sensation of water hitting me from all directions and me rubbing myself down with Mary’s soap in Mary’s shower, my dick starts to lift itself up all on its own. Then… well, can you blame me if I help it out a little? Mary was looking mighty fine all morning with her face made up as sexy as ever and her long bronze hair folded into a loose knot on top of her head and tits so majestically presented in that halter… I wonder what it’d look like if it slipped down and–

“You did good work, Brian,” Mary’s voice echoes in through the bathroom door, “I’m impressed.”

I gasp and drop my hand from my cock. I can’t masturbate to the woman when she’s right there talking to me, that’s a bridge too far. “Umm, thanks,” I manage.

“You finding everything you need alright?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s great,” my voice squeaks. Fuck is my dick stiff.

“You were really working hard out there. You sure there’s not anything else you need? Any other way I can show you my gratitude?”

My lungs seize my throat closes tight and a choking sound escapes. There’s no way I’m hearing this correctly, right? But her tone, full of suggestion, riddled through with significance. Fuck, I need to answer before things get awkward. More awkward.

I stutter, “Uh, d-do you h-have a bathrobe? For while I wait for my clothes to dry?” What the hell is that? I kick myself.

“Yeah…” she hesitates. I am such a fuck. “They’re, uh, in the cabinet on the far side of the sink.”

I swallow, feel myself teetering on the edge of the cliff. “Thanks. I could also, umm, use a hand.”

Silence.

I continue, the fool that I am, “I could use some some, uh…” The door starts to open, slowly. My words peter into a whisper, “…help with this, err…”

Mary steps in. There’s nothing between her and my naked self except the glass wall of her shower and the billows of fog peeling away from hot water. “I, um… this…” I babble, nerves making me speak. Her halter and denim is gone, replaced with a shimmery lavender silk robe, loose and teasing at what’s beneath.

Eyes on mine as she steps closer, her intense green irises and dark eyeliner and sculpted brows so intimidating, so sexy. And then she glances down, eyes widening. “Fuck, Brian. I thought…“ She stands at the threshold of the shower, eyes on my cock as she licks her lips. “Were you thinking of me?”

“No!” I don’t know why I deny it.

“What’s up with you skinny boys having the most obscenely huge penises?” she chuckles, “You’re not going to be able to get your pants on like that.”

I am capable of making no sounds beyond a whimper.

Yet Mary remains cool and confident and in control. “What are you planning on doing with it? Nothing scandalous, I presume.”

I mewl, shudder. My dick sways, pointed straight at her, fiercely and defiantly erect.

“Well,” she shrugs, “What was it you needed help with, Brian?”

She’s making fun of me, I know it. But I don’t know what to do about it. The water courses over my body, rivulets cascading down my naked self, my dick quietly bobbing away as the runoff drips from it.

“Do you want my assistance soaping off?” she suggests. Hands on her hips, the robe is pinched down at her waist and shows a mesmerizing amount of skin, down her chest, up her thighs.

I leap at her easy out and nod vigorously.

“Alright. Turn around though, Brian.” She starts to pull the silk from her shoulders, “Can’t have you peeking, can we?”

Dutifully, I flip around, my cock whipping to the side before springing back upright, now pointed directly away from Mary as she I am assuming disrobes behind me. Is this really happening? Or is this some sort of trick? Is she playing a prank on me? Is someone about to pop out with a camera recording my embarrassment for Mary and all her friends to laugh at? A stupid naive little man who dared think he could get away with–

I gasp as strong hands knead my shoulders from behind. Frozen stiff, I stand like a dummy as she runs her grip down my back.

“You worked so hard today for me, Brian,” she says, hands coming down, grabbing my ass, “I am so impressed by what I saw.” And then she’s touching my thighs, running her hands up their outsides.

Warmth envelopes me from behind. I’m brought into a luminous embrace as her wet body meets mine, spooning me with heat and reassurance and shelter. Her arms receive me and work soap across my chest while her massive breasts cushion me into her entwine. “Unwind, Brian,” she coos quietly, “No reason to be so nervous with a old maid like me.”

And I try to! To acclimate to so much touch, so much sensation. Not just her tits, but my butt’s pressing into her lap, my legs rubbing against hers. I believed myself to already be hard, but my arousal seems to know no limits as a fresh jolt of verve surges my erection so hard I wonder how there’s any blood left for my brain to operate.

Or maybe it’s not operating, since as Mary’s hands journey this way and that way over my pecs and down my abs and just past my beleaguered cock to swirl around my thighs before retracing their paths I am feeling reduced to nothing but primal desire. Her hands are everywhere in every place with no pattern I can trace and no route I can predict and it leaves me gasping and whimpering and my cock by far the hardest it has ever been, throbbing stiff and straining yearning aching for her.

“I had no idea you were such a strapping young man,” her lips brush my ear, “So… healthy. Full of vitality. So virile.” Her fingers dance closer to the only place that matters, swirl back away, slide up again with her index finger and thumb making a ring which threatens to encircle my shaft but never quite does.

“Put your foot up on the ledge, Brian,” she gently instructs, and I do. Propped up, my leg is extended, my thigh horizontal to the ground and balls hanging free. This apparently is the point as Mary’s hand slides down my leg and circles around my knee and then slides back up my inner thigh until it reaches the crease where leg meets hip. Then her fingers navigate the turn and comes over and then I gasp because she’s cupping my sac. My balls fill her palm as her fingers spread out, form a basket around them, shake them to make them bounce.

I make a noise somewhere between moan and shout, stop myself from shuddering and losing control of my knees. But Mary’s touch remains, her fingers so perfectly light, my balls so immediately vulnerable. It’s a test a trust to not flinch away, to allow in this strange new presence on my most delicate parts.

Her grip twists around in the silky soapy film and she laughs quietly, “Am I making you uncomfortable, Brian? Should I stop?”

“No!” I squeak.

“I didn’t think so.” She presses into them, makes the veins on my cock throb and twitch with each pulse. Her tits squish against my back, her hard nipples tracing lines of excitement across my skin. And as her chin rests on my shoulder, she says, “What are we going to do with you, Brian? It’s not every day I’m honored with such an example of…” a chuckle, “…raw potency. But if you think simple potential is enough for me, you’ve got another think coming.”

“Show me!” I beg, “Teach me! Please!”

Mary pushes and pulls on my balls, makes my cock swing. “You think you’ve earned that?”

Earned? I don’t know ‘earned.’ “Please! I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” Her words are hot breath against my ear, her lips against my skin.

I whimper, “Anything!”

“I’ve got more yard work that needs doing,” she says as her other hand comes in to my shaft, her fingers landing gently against the bare skin of my cock. “Always more yard work.”

“It’s done,” I gasp, electric pleasure shooting through me.

“My PA’s taking a vacation next week,” she coos, her touch dragging gently out to the head of my dick.

My heart pounds and blood pumps furiously, swelling into my shaft. “I’ll do it!”

“Managing my calendar is a lot of work.” She toys with my glans.

“I’ll do it!” I repeat, shuddering in pleasure, eyes unfocused and hands fidgeting wildly.

“My car’s service light is on,” her fingers dance down my length and she adds, “And it could use a wash, too.”

“Leave me the keys!” I groan, throwing my head back. The entire extent of my cock is thundering in pleasure from her teasing touch, white-hot molten bliss pouring into my sinews. I’m uncertain how I’m forming words, let alone that there’s any coherence to them. I don’t know what I’m agreeing to do, don’t care.

“And when you’re done with all that,” her silken voice oozes into me and delivers ecstasy almost as heavenly as her fingers now grabbing me in their strong grip, suddenly pumping my girth with a greed I’ve only hoped for, “You’re going to come back here and shove me up against the wall and fuck me deep and hard with this huge fucking cock of yours.”

My jaw drops and I tense and my groan becomes a loud and guttural thing. Her fist pumps me with all the power of the piston on a locomotive her fingertips on my vein her thumb on my glans her other hand on my balls and I’m riding the edge of orgasm to its limit to its limit to its limit fighting to stay in control grasping for a hold.

She growls, “Cum for me.”

I am of course defenseless to Mary and the pleasure overwhelms me like a dam breaking and the orgasm slams into me tears me off my feet throws me into its turmoil and I’m cumming cumming cumming the hardest I’ve ever done my dick spraying its seed wildly, jets of pearly white jizz launching all over her shower and mixing with the water and sticking to the tile as Mary laughs her taunting laugh, delighting at my fledgling restraint.

She wrings my cock empty and leaves me collapsed, leaning against the wall for support, sucking down breath as I try to recover. And when I do, I realize she’s gone and her silk slip with her, leaving me once again alone in her shower.