Simon Jillson: Real estate saleswoman

Judy tried to figure some way to cut off his view of her breasts. She tried hunching her shoulders and bringing her arms close together, then realised that only opened the neckline of her blouse further while pressing her breasts inward, deepening the hollow between them.

"I can get it for you," she assured him, trying to keep her mind on business. His cock was getting harder and larger, sliding sideways as it stiffened and lifted. Judy gulped.

"Not enough," Shein panted.

"What?" Judy asked. The man's cock was becoming monstrous. It lay across one thigh now, a massive lump of gristle, pulsing and still expanding.

"Any broker in town can get me a million and a half," Shein countered.

Judy felt his breath on her face as he swept past her. She wanted to use one hand or arm to conceal her breasts, but her hands weren't big enough to use just one of them to hold his ankles.

"I might – maybe two million," Judy stammered.

It was a relief when he stopped doing sit-ups and sat, leaning back on his arms. Judy released his ankles and sat back gratefully. Her blouse brushed the tips of her breasts, making the excited nipples burn. She tore her eyes off Shein's powerful, pulsing erection and tried to meet his bold gaze.

"Better," he conceded, "if you're telling the truth. But I imagine there are other agents that could match that."

Judy was getting frustrated. She was promising him four times what he had paid for the house. She thought she might be able to get it from her potential customer. She knew no other agent in town would risk sticking his neck out with an offer like that. She didn't dare suggest a higher figure. "Mr. Shein, I…"

"Let's go swimming," he said abruptly, getting easily to his feet.

Judy struggled upward awkwardly. "I don't have a suit," she pointed out.

"Neither do I," Shein said matter-of-factly. He reached for the front of her blouse.

"Mr. Shein, please," Judy protested, backing away.

"You'd be surprised how a nice swim will put a different complexion on things," he insisted, reaching for her buttons.

"Mr. Shein!" Judy exclaimed, gripping his wrists.

His eyes met hers. There suddenly was an unrelenting hardness in his gaze. "Mrs. Penncroft?"

Judy knew exactly what he was saying with just those two words. Right here, and right now, she could lose the listing before she even had it. Did he know how desperately she needed the money?

"All-all right," she agreed reluctantly, easing her grip on his powerful wrists.

"I thought you'd see things my way," he said confidently. His strong fingers deftly freed her buttons.

Judy hung her head in shame and let him strip her blouse off her. She was agonizingly conscious of her small, firm breasts and their sharp tips. The man's all-over tan made her painfully aware of the paleness of her breasts.

He unfastened her skirt, eased it over the swell of her hips and dropped it around her ankles. The top edge of her panties cut low on the gentle swell of her belly. They were nearly transparent, showing the dark mat of her pubic triangle. Her faint hope he would leave her with at least that shred of modesty vanished when he hooked his thumbs under the elastic. He hauled the tiny panties down. As he knelt in front of her there was no hint of subservience in the pose. Efficiently, he stripped her last covering down to her ankles, then held them and her skirt with one hand while he lifted her feet free of the tangle. Then her sandals were unbuckled and he was standing in front of her.

Judy cupped a hand demurely over her sex, crossed an arm across her breasts. She let her head hang, conscious of the air touching her boldly all over, even more conscious of the hot eyes raking over her bare body. "Mr. Shein, I…" Judy started, ready to plead for the listing.

His hand closed around the wrist at her crotch, dragging that feeble cover away from her dark shy triangle. "A swim," he insisted, pulling her toward the water.

Judy tottered after him to the edge of the pool. His grip on her arm was tight and hard as steel. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the bobbing bludgeon of his aroused, monster cock.

Without releasing her, he walked directly off the edge of the pool, pulling her in with him. The water blasted over Judy, splashing her face as her feet jarred hard against the bottom of the pool. The sudden chill after the merciless hot glare of the sun made her suck in a gasp of air. The icy liquid cut deep into her uncovered pussy, splattered her chest and back. A tug on her wrist as Steven Shein leaned forward dragged Judy with him. Then he released her. Gamely, Judy struck out alongside him, figuring that was what he wanted. The cool water swept over her whole body. Tickling cool currents brushed intimately over her naked skin. As she kicked, bold eddies explored her sex and her ass.

As they swam from one end of the pool to the other, Judy was conscious of the power of the man beside her. From time to time his bare skin would brush hers, an arm, hip, or leg that would feel scalding hot in comparison with the cool pool.

Her hand touched the end of the pool and Judy stopped swimming, and let her legs swing under her. As Steven Shein floated languidly beside her, she hooked her elbows over the edge of the pool, pressed her front defensively against the cool, smooth concrete. She twisted her head at the touch of a hand on the back of her neck, teasing her short black hair. Every swaying kick of her feet sent a fresh wave of cool water into the heart of her sex, reminding her of her nudity. Her nipples felt like rocks trapped against the side of the pool.

"You're an accomplished swimmer, Mrs. Penncroft," he observed.

The use of her married name reminded Judy of Mark, their marriage, all that they had, all that they meant to each other. She felt a surge of horror at what was happening, what she was doing. It also reminded her of why she was here, how badly she needed the money. She stopped trying to wriggle away from his caress.

"You were an Olympic gymnast, I believe?" he noted.

"Just an alternate."

"I admire people who take the time to keep their bodies in good condition," he went on. "Can you do the backstroke?"

"Mr. Shein, I…"

"Backstroke," he insisted. "A race. I'll give you a head start. If you win, you get the listing. If I win… well, we'll see about the listing."

"Mr. Shein!" Judy protested.

"On your mark," he commanded.

"But…"

"Get set," he continued relentlessly. He had taken his hand from the back of her neck and was assuming a starting position – legs folded, feet firmly against the wall, hands gripping the gutter. His arms bunched as he coiled himself for the start.

Desperately, Judy whipped into a tight ball of muscle, somehow knowing he meant exactly what he said. "Go." Judy's body uncoiled as she let go of the gutter, arched her spine backward and pushed off from the wall. Water sheeted over her face as she took her first powerful stroke, then her vision cleared and she flailed her way toward the shallow end.

She saw the spray of Steven Shein's start and pulled still harder. She could see the whipping arch of his hands. Each stroke sent a glittering arching spray of water high in the air. She kicked harder, trying to put more whip into the motion of her feet, trying to remember instructions received years ago from her swimming coach.

God, the man was fast! His head was already even with her waist, his arms flinging water in her face at every stroke. Judy flailed desperately, cursing that he had chosen the backstroke – always her worst stroke.

Then he was even with her and Judy could see his face. He was watching her insolently. He wasn't even having to work hard to stay even with her!

Judy suddenly noticed the way her taut breasts were rolling and bobbing on the surface, in full view. She lost her rhythm and floundered for a moment, which gave him half a yard advantage on her. She regained her poise and pulled harder, but couldn't catch up.