Status: Part 7 (Patreon)

Carlos grumbled as his back strained against the weight of the pool net. It wasn’t especially heavy per se but it was taxing to have to constantly bend over, run the 8 foot pole through the water, and then crane himself back up again over and over. It wasn’t the best or most glamorous job in the world, but it paid decently well and was far more than a broke guy from the barrio could hope for, especially without a GED. He had originally assumed that the Ashfords figured he was illegal when they hired him, but over time that perception began to give way to a much more precarious situation.

While Gideon Ashford was the head of the household and the only member of his family to have any actual wealth of his own that didn’t come from instagram sponsorships or wine endorsement commercials, it was his wife Arabella who had done all the hiring. Despite her posh and formal demeanor, Carlos couldn’t help but notice that Mrs. Ashford had a certain predatory vibe about her. Every second of the interview saw her eyeing him. Scrutinizing his every action and answer with a wicked, feline grin until eventually, she stood up, told him that he had the job, and that she would be looking forward to “appreciating his efforts” around the manor as she sauntered off, giving him a full view of her plastic-enhanced ass as she walked away. Carlos had been warned early on not to try to flirt with or get too familiar with the Ashford women by the old gardener Felipe, but it looked more like Arabella was the one coming onto him.

(1)

It wasn’t long after he started working that he began to notice a pattern in who made the cut. While men were often times more or less capable of doing the various jobs they were assigned, there was an obvious disparity in how intelligent and reliable they were compared to how attractive they were. The women too were largely just young latina bimbos that happened to apply to the estate. Few had degrees, fewer still had diplomas, and most of them weren’t even citizens. It seemed that Arabella’s hiring standards were based more on appearance than actual ability, which made Carlos’ job significantly harder on the regular. When he wasn’t trying to convince a group of men to actually do their jobs without cutting corners in the garden or running off to get drunk, he was instructing some doe-eyed dropout on how to properly handwash a designer gown or make sure that the dishes were being put through the steam sanitizer unit correctly. In the end it was almost always him that had to resolve whatever janitorial or logistical issues that occurred while the rest of the staff could really only be counted on to look pretty and do the bare minimum to keep the house and gardens up to Ashford standards.

(2)

Today, the job was cleaning the pool. It wasn’t necessarily a job that needed his special attention or even something that needed done every day, but the Ashfords were preparing for some sort of big event in the coming week and they wanted everything to be sparkling and perfect. Of course in the beginning, Carlos had done everything in his power to delegate the responsibility to someone else, but when Arabella had asked him personally to see it done he melted like butter. In his mind there were no greater beauties on the planet than Arabella Ashford and her daughter Lucille, and to some extent he was fairly certain they’d caught onto that fact. It seemed that whenever they needed something they called for him specifically to do it, often times hanging around while he worked. They would strut and pose, flashing flirty smiles at him while he worked.

He often wondered if they really had no idea how far they were bending over to grab things or how much their clothes rode up or pulled down when they did. Every time Carlos looked over it seemed that one of them was running their fingers across their thigh or languishing on a nearby couch with their nipples almost falling out of their shirts. It couldn’t have been an accident, he thought. It happened far too often and was far too explicit to be a coincidence. Even if he was expressly forbidden from touching them, they HAD to know what they were doing

Carlos sighed and stretched his back backwards in an attempt to soothe and loosen the muscles before he moved over to the hot tub area. The pool itself was long and ran like a river from one area of the swimming enclosure to another before widening again into larger and successively deeper swimming areas. It was certainly luxurious, but a royal pain in the ass to clean all by himself. The aging gardener pressed his hand to his chin and pushed, causing a series of satisfying pops on one side before doing it again in the other direction.

As he'd grown older, he found it harder and harder to keep his body in working condition. Where once he never even thought twice about how his body was performing or what sort of strain he was placing on it, now the pops and cracks and strained muscles were a constant reminder that he wasn't as young as he used to be.

(3)

“Oof. That sounded satisfying.” Came a sultry voice from behind him.

Carlos wheeled around rapidly, dropping the pool net onto the ground as he did. When he looked, he found Lucille dressed in an all white bikini top lined with gold chains and pulled low to show off her massively round fake breasts. It was paired with matching shorts and a light, see-through overshirt to prevent her from burning while she tanned, but was splayed wide open in an obvious display of beauty, luxury, and vanity. Her hair was a flawless platinum blonde that framed her modified face well. Carlos imagined that once upon a time, and not entirely too long ago, this 19-year-old girl looked very natural and even cute in a naive sort of way, but now she had the same high cheekbones and surgery-sculpted features as her mother. But while Arabella's plastic modifications made her look younger, Lucille's gave her an older, more mature sort of attractiveness. Everything from the way she moved to the way she looked at things screamed sex, pleasure, and desire. She was, in Carlos' opinion, all too easy to become entranced by.

(4)

Lucille sauntered over to a poolside chair and laid down, stripping off her shirt as she sprawled out leisurely. Carlos watched with a sort of enrapt, quizzical look on his face. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to be reacting to her until she glanced over at him and smiled.

“Oh Carlos….Could you be a babe and come rub this oil on me please?” She called out, a soft grin on her face.

“Oh! I..Uh… Ches miss!” He said in an accented voice as he scurried over to assist her.

With shaking hands and a steel hardon, the gardener did his best to spread the sun-warmed cocoa butter across the rich bimbo’s artificially fattened buttcheeks and shapely thighs. He found himself kneading her legs and back, sinking his hands into every part of her that he could play off as a professional massage. Before long he found himself completely absorbed in her body, pressing and gliding across her smooth skin until finally….he slipped. Carlos had put too much of his weight forwards as he worked more oil than necessary into her back, losing his traction and falling forward, only to catch himself by throwing himself forward as quickly as he could and inadvertently slapping her round ass with both hands.

Carlos felt his blood run cold. His brain raced at near light speed to come up with a sincere enough apology and a way to explain that he really hadn’t meant to do it. Instead, Lucille immediately let out a soft, appreciative moan and arched her back, lifting her ass up to meet his hands. Her breaths had quickened slightly too, and as Carlos looked down, he saw her pearl white teeth parted sensually as she smiled at him with the same cat-like amorousness that he saw in her mother.

“Careful Carlos, you slip again and she’ll need to change outfits,” Arabella said from the other end of the pool.

He hadn’t heard her come out, nor had he been able to tear his eyes away from Lucille long enough to even notice when her mother walked out. Arabella sat across the way in a black and gold bikini complete with a gold chain motif that mirrored her daughter’s. Her outfit however lacked an overshirt and traded shorts for full blown bikini bottoms.

(5)

 She too was indescribably beautiful, but Carlos could barely keep his thoughts together long enough to really look. The world seemed to shudder around him as she spoke. His head pounded and the sunlight became harsh, blinding him for a moment.

“Careful Carlos, give her another and she’ll wring you dry.” Arabella teased, rubbing her own thick backside for emphasis.

“It’s sooo fucking true.” Lucille groaned happily. “Ashford girls go crazy for a good spanking. Just ask my mommy.”

Lucille’s eyes flicked over to her mother as she snickered, gyrating her hips to press into the chubby gardener’s rough hands.

“It’s true.” Arabella cooed. “Ashford girls turn into sluts for a good spanking. Who knows? Maybe your little indiscretion will get you somewhere with my baby girl. From the looks of it, it was enjoyable.”

Carlos felt his face turn red and a shy blush fill his cheeks just in time to turn his head towards the door where Gideon was standing. Carlos jumped up in terror, trying his absolute best to not look like he was doing what he was doing, but Gideon only stared.

“Carlos. If you’re done playing with my baby girl’s ass I’d like you to come in here and help me with the preparations next week. Or are you too busy?” He asked blandly without any visible emotion on his face.

“Don’t worry. He loves it when guys are into me.” Lucille whispered with a sultry wink.

Carlos didn’t know who to believe. It was all he could do to wipe the oil on his hands onto his pants and run to help his boss with the upcoming event. He looked back at the two women lounging on the deck, resplendent and languid in repose. The preened like sirens trying to lure him to some sort of rocky, poolside grave with the way they looked over at him, their eyes sensual and dazzling.

"Today, Mr. Lopez." Gideon called, a hint of irritation in his voice.

With one last yearning look at the two plastic goddesses lounging behind him in the sun he watched as Arabella flicked her wrist several times, shooing him away with the back of her hand. It didn't matter what sort of grueling task or punishment Mr. Ashford had ready for him; Carlos' little slip had already made this one of the best days of his career.