Claiming His Virgin In the Pool

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Claiming His Virgin In the Pool Page 2

by Cassandra Dee


  “Hello,” she said musically, nodding slightly. Her hair was pulled into a smooth bun, and her make-up was flawless. “I’m Patricia, your guide for tonight. Welcome to The Manor.”

  “Thank you,” said Amber with a smile. “If you could just show us where the party is, we’ll head that way on our own.”

  Patricia smiled again.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s my job to escort guests to the party. The Manor is enormous and it’s easy to get lost here. May I take your purses? You did say your names were Kelsey and Amber, right?”

  Amber was about to say something but I stepped in quickly.

  “Um, no thank you,” was my quick reply. “I’d like to keep my purse with me if that’s okay with you. It has my medication in it.”

  Of course, there was no medication in the small clutch. Nothing would fit in there besides my keys and a lip gloss. But at the same time, I didn’t want to hand over anything to a total stranger, and shot a warning look at Amber.

  “Oh right, we want to keep our purses,” she said with a small, exasperated huff. “Is that okay with you?”

  Patricia nodded.

  “Certainly, but you know that this is a pool party, right?” she said. “You’ll need to leave your things somewhere, and I assure you, your things will be kept under lock and key. Nobody will rifle through your belongings, much less make off with them.”

  Amber looked like she was about to cave in but I stepped in again.

  “No thank you,” was my firm reply. “We’ll keep our purses with us.”

  The woman nodded graciously, turning on her heel.

  “As you wish. Follow me please.”

  And gracefully, she opened a door to the left which led to a long hallway made of marble. Amber and I followed behind the woman, our heels clacking loudly on the polished floor.

  “Oh wow,” my friend breathed as we walked down the hall. “This is amazing.”

  Because the passageway was decorated with various niches, and within each niche hung a painting or a sculpture, displayed to perfection under recessed lights that emphasized their grace and artistry. Each of these pieces had to be worth a fortune. As if reading our minds, Patricia turned, nodding.

  “Yes, Mr. Major is a serious art collector, and he likes to put his things on show. This is only a small part of his collection,” she said obliquely. “I understand that only ten percent of his artwork is displayed at any point in time.”

  I gasped. Could that be true? Because if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a Vermeer hanging to my right, with a sculpture from Calder on the left. Did this Mr. Major have more of these in storage somewhere? But Patricia had already moved forwards, and was turning to the right now.

  “Come this way please,” she called. “Watch your step.”

  Amber and I slowly followed, both of us with our mouths hanging open.

  “Wow, this guy has to be loaded,” whispered my friend, eyes wide. “Even more than I thought.”

  I nodded, swallowing heavily.

  “It’s even better than a museum,” I managed in a strangled whisper. “It’s like a utopia.”

  Because I didn’t go to college but sometimes, in my free time, I dream of being an art student. I love learning about a piece of work’s history, not to mention the techniques and thought that an artist puts into crafting a work. So while right now, I’m just a pool girl at the local country club, one day I hope to continue my studies and maybe work as a museum docent, or even better, as a curator at an art gallery.

  That was all pie in the sky though. Right now, I was Kelsey Smith with the go-nowhere job and the flaky boyfriend who made lame excuses thinking that I wouldn’t find out. So I straightened my shoulders, whispering to Amber.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s see what this party’s about.”

  But oddly, Patricia was leading us down a stairwell now, almost as if we were descending into a basement.

  “Um, are there some lights?” I asked hesitantly. “I have really high heels on and don’t want to trip.”

  “Certainly,” she nodded, flipping a switch somewhere. And suddenly, rows of wall sconces illuminated the passageway. I gasped because the walls of the stairwell were made of intricate mosaic, a beautiful sunburst pattern of gold, white and cobalt tile.

  “Oh wow,” was my appreciative gasp. “This is amazing.”

  “Yes,” said Patricia, her tone professional. “Again, Mr. Major spares no expense and the Manor is outfitted with the best of the best, from fixtures to decorative items to the pool area itself. I think you’ll like it,” she purred.

  But if my spidey sense hadn’t gone off before, it was going full blast now. Because where in the world were we? I knew we were in the middle of the desert in Arizona at some rich guy’s place, but who was this person? And why did he have staff escorting us to his private pool party? Most parties I know have balloons out by the gate plus a sign with an arrow that reads, “This way.”

  But it was too late because we were through the stairwell and into a lush indoor garden that overlooked a pool. Tinkling sounds of female laughter sounded out, as well as the low growls of men.

  “If you’ll just remove your wraps,” said Patricia formally, “I’ll take them and make sure they’re safe. I’ll also need to go over some ground rules with you.”

  I stood on my tippytoes, trying to see over the woman’s shoulder and into the pool area below. But the blonde wouldn’t budge, standing firmly in my way.

  “Your wraps, please,” she said, holding out one hand expectantly. Amber nudged me.

  “Come on, we’re almost there,” she whispered excitedly. “If his pool’s like the rest of his house, then this party’s going to be amazing,” she added. “Come on!”

  And slowly, I undid the zipper at the back of my dress, stepping out of the gold fabric so that I wore nothing but my tiny bikini. Amber was dressed similarly, wearing a piece of red piece of floss between her cheeks and a top that couldn’t have been more than two napkins sewn together.

  Patricia’s eyes skated over us, studying our forms thoughtfully. But it wasn’t sexual. It was more like she was looking over the goods and making sure that we were up to par. I guess we were because with a swift shake of her head, she nodded.

  “Perfect,” she said smoothly, taking our dresses in hand. “You may keep your purses if you like, but I’m also happy to take them?” she offered again. “I can assure you that no one at the Manor is interested in your keys or money.”

  After seeing the lavish decorations, I had to agree. So slightly shame-faced, we handed her our purses, standing in only our bikinis and high heels. I was a little uncomfortable wearing so little, but the voice in my head spoke then.

  Don’t be a shy pansy, it scolded. Because you’re here for a reason and that’s to get Rick out of your mind. Who knows what he’s doing tonight? He’s definitely not sick, so he’s probably out banging some hoochie while pleading the flu.

  The voice was right. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders, looking forwards with determination in my eyes. I was here to have a good time and turned towards Patricia, smiling.

  “What were the rules again?” I murmured. “You’d mentioned some house rules.”

  The blonde woman nodded, not at all fazed by our skimpy bikinis even though she herself was dressed in a dark skirt suit and pressed white blouse.

  “Of course. Mr. Major requires all women to be dressed in suitable pool attire, and you ladies fulfill that perfectly,” she said. “Also, Mr. Major requires that all women be ready to serve if called upon.”

  My eyes flew to hers, but Amber beat me to it.

  “I’m sorry?” my friend asked, totally confused. “Serve how?”

  Patricia’s face was bland and smooth.

  “Just drinks and whatnot,” she said. “If the billionaires ask for a cocktail, you’ll be expected to retrieve it from the bar.”

  Amber looked ready to protest because my buddy isn’t the serving type. But as a pool gir
l at the country club, I stepped in.

  “Of course,” I said hurriedly. “It’s no problem. We’re happy to get drinks for the other guests.” Besides, had Patricia referred to some of the men as billionaires? Was that a literal statement, or just a slip of the tongue? I bit my lip, wondering, but decided it was better not to ask.

  The blonde woman nodded again.

  “There aren’t too many rules. Many things that you might expect. No running in the deck area, and of course, no diving in the shallow end. Other than that, I think that’s it. You’re free to go in.”

  I nodded, grabbing Amber’s hand. The lecture was over and we were ready. But as the door to the pool area opened, Patricia added one last thing as an afterthought.

  “And I think you’ll be happy to know that the water is changed daily,” she said. “Per Mr. Major’s request, we don’t put in much chlorine, but rest assured that the water is clean and very sanitary,” she said with a mysterious smile before disappearing through the door from which we’d come.

  I shook my head because why in the world would she emphasize that? Were there kids who peed in the pool on a regular basis? Hopefully not, especially seeing that this was an adult party taking place at night. But with one last puzzled sigh, I grabbed Amber’s arm and pulled her along with me into the humid swimming area … only to be met by the sight of absolute debauchery.

  CHAPTER 3

  Kelsey

  “Oh my god, am I really seeing this?” squeaked Amber by my side. I couldn’t answer her because the air in my lungs had evaporated and my feet were rooted in place.

  “Shh, don’t move,” I said in a whisper. “No one’s seen us yet and we can still leave if we want.”

  We could absolutely leave because there was no one stopping us from doing so. In fact, no one was paying attention because they were having too much fun to notice two girls cowering behind a potted palm in the corner.

  Because this wasn’t your regular party with beach bunnies and muscleheads splashing each other at the community center. Instead, the space we were in was cavernous with a giant Moroccan-style pool in the center inlaid with ornate mosaic. The colors of the design glimmered below the rippling water in a pattern that I couldn’t quite make out with warm mist wafting off the surface. Plus, there were grand archways everywhere, with assorted loungers dotting the expanse and platters of fruit heaped high, glistening under the low lights.

  But it wasn’t the obviously expensive setting that made my breath catch. Instead, it was the people and what they were doing because the level of absolute filth was sky high, making the air choke in my throat. Even through the hazy mist, I could catch glimpses of sheer debauchery, and my cunt moistened in shock as well as anticipation.

  Because most of the women wore nothing but a pair of tiny bottoms, the slight slip of fabric covering their most private part. Lush female flesh swung this way and that, slickly oiled under the low lights as women giggled and played in the water, sliding their hands up muscular chests and teasing strong chins. Oh my god, I couldn’t believe I was seeing this!

  But it wasn’t just the women. It was the men too. Every single guy at the pool was huge and gorgeous, radiating charisma. Not to mention they were built like studs with broad shoulders and barrel chests, arms long and powerful as they lazily toyed with the women surrounding them.

  “Oh my god,” whispered Amber by my side again, teetering a bit in her high heels. “Are we really … ? Because it looks more like … a harem?”

  And I could see what she meant. The women outnumbered the men by probably at least ten to one. Each man had a bevy of curvy women around him, giggling and splashing while giving him massages and bringing him drinks. Not only that, but some of the women were outright coming onto the men, what with rubbing ample breasts against their backs or lovingly stroking powerful thighs with light fingers.

  I’d seen enough.

  “Come on,” I hissed to Amber. “This is clearly some sex party gone wrong and not your usual run of the mill bash. We have to go!”

  But Amber remained rooted in place, entranced by the scene before us. Hot mist rose from the water, obscuring some of the figures, but you could tell that some folks were having fun right at this moment, what with the loud gasps and breathy moans ringing out.

  “Oh my god, people are having sex,” she said, scandalized, eyes peering into the humid heat. “Kels, look over in the corner there.”

  I swiveled quickly, and sure enough, there was the distinct sound of flesh slapping against flesh rhythmically, not to mention the nude outlines of a woman and man moving against one another, their mouths fused.

  “Come on!” I whispered again, grabbing my friend’s arm. “We have to go! This isn’t the place for us!”

  But Amber was too overcome by the scene before us, and try as I might, I couldn’t get her to budge.

  “Come on!” I said again, pulling urgently at her arm. “There’s a spare key in your glove compartment right? I’ll drive. We can still get out of here.”

  But infuriatingly, my blonde friend wouldn’t move.

  “I don’t know Kels,” she said, biting her lip while casting discreet glances around the cavernous subterranean space. “I might want to stay.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  “Amber, you can’t be serious,” was my insistent whisper. “You don’t know what you’re saying. This is a sex club, and not a regular party. We have to go!”

  But my friend wouldn’t budge.

  “No, you know how it’s been lately, Kelsey,” she said again, biting her lower lip with her eyes fixed on a particularly handsome male sitting in the corner of the pool. Of course, he was surrounded by woman, but he seemed to see Amber as well, their eye contact electric. And to my horror, she began to unfasten her top.

  “What are you doing?” I almost squealed, watching as the red fabric slithered off so that Amber was like every other woman here, wearing nothing but her skimpy bikini bottoms, giant tits swaying to and fro. “Oh my god, have you lost your mind?”

  But my friend shook her head again.

  “You know how it’s been recently,” she said in a low voice, her eyes locked onto the man across the room. “I haven’t been on a good date in months, and the last guy actually wanted me to do his laundry for him. On our first date, Kels,” she said, turning blue eyes my way. “He dumped a bunch of dirty laundry into the back seat of his car and wanted to swing by the laundromat so that I could show him how to use the machines.”

  I gulped. That had been a terrible date and I remembered lending Amber a shoulder to cry on afterwards. But surely, one bad date didn’t justify staying at a sex party with strangers? The alpha males were gorgeous and ripped to be sure, but still. We didn’t know them from Jim, Jack or Billy.

  “Amber,” I whispered again urgently. “Amber, come back!”

  But it was too late because my friend was already drifting off towards the big man, generous curves swaying as his blue eyes watched her every step. And to my shock, the man actually disengaged himself from one woman, making room for my friend as she slipped smoothly into the water next to him. A few words were exchanged, although of course, I couldn’t hear what they were saying from my perch behind a big potted plant. But sure enough, some whispers were uttered, and then suddenly Amber and the huge man were locked in a passionate kiss, her breasts pushed up against his massive chest.

  Holy shit. Was this really happening? Had I just entered into a debauched swimming sex club where billionaires gathered to be served by lithe, nubile women dressed in nothing? And even more, was my friend now part of the crew, her slippery curves pressed up against a strange man’s muscled chest as she took his kisses, looking more and more drugged by the second? If I wasn’t mistaken, the man’s hand had just disappeared below the water and Amber jerked suddenly, eyes flying open. Holy shit, had he just touched her pussy?

  But my thoughts were interrupted because suddenly, a shadow fell over my form. It was humid in the pool area, wafts o
f mist drifting off the water, but it felt like the temperature suddenly went up about a hundred degrees despite the fact that I was now partially shaded.

  I turned hesitantly, eyes growing wide to survey the man before me. Because he was huge. And absolutely gorgeous. Shoulders as wide as a tank filled my vision, with a chest so sculpted that it looked to be made of carved marble. All of that formed a perfect vee shape decorated with six pack abs as my eyes trailed lower. Fortunately, his hips were swathed by a fluffy white towel which covered a powerful hose. How did I know his cock was huge? Call it feminine instinct … but somehow I knew.

  As if reading my mind, the man smirked.

  “Hey,” he remarked casually. “Can you get me a drink?” he asked, holding out an empty cocktail glass.

  Heat ran through my form. The man’s eyes were so blue that I could barely breathe, his charcoal hair dark enough that it absorbed light. To my shame, I moistened immediately, unable to stop my physical reaction to his presence.

  The man grinned knowingly like he could see my thoughts.

  “A drink?” he rumbled again, lifting the glass. “If you’d be so kind, sweetheart.”

 

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