Shared with the Pool Boy
Nick awoke to the smell of coffee, eggs, and something frying. The sunlight spilled in through the slatted blinds of Daniel’s bedroom. The sheets were twisted around his legs, damp with sweat, and for a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was.
Then it came rushing back.
The jock strap. The g-spot. The cock cleaning. The near brutal fuck. The cum-filled kisses.
He sat up slowly, every muscle humming with the aftershock of pleasure and exposure. Daniel was gone from the bed, but the scent of him still lingered on the sheets. Rich. Warm. Masculine.
Without prompting, Nick immediately thought of the House Rule #2: In my home, you will wear only a jockstrap, nothing else.
Nick frantically searched for his jock from last night and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it on the floor from the night before.
He slipped it back on feeling last night’s dampness. He had leaked so prolifically it hadn’t had a chance to fully dry. The thick waistband hugged his hips like a collar. His cock stirred at once, pushing against the strap. He adjusted himself, already half-hard, and padded into the bathroom.
When he made his way downstairs, it was as if he’d stepped into another dream.
Daniel was at the stove, flipping eggs in a cast-iron skillet. He wore nothing but an apron—black, simple, tied tight behind his bare back, leaving every inch of his ass exposed. The muscles in his back rippled with each motion, broad shoulders tapering into a hard waist, thick glutes flexing subtly as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.
Nick froze. Just stared.
Daniel glanced over his shoulder. “Good morning, little man.”
Nick swallowed. “Good morning, Sir.”
Daniel set the spatula down and walked over, pulled Nick into a firm embrace—bare chest to bare chest, his thick morning cock brushing just enough to make Nick’s jock stir. He kissed him on the cheek, warm and parental, then released him.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” Daniel said slightly sternly. “Going forward, breakfast is your job. Every day you sleep here, you’ll be the one cooking. That’s your role.”
Nick nodded, slightly dazed, then smiled. “Yes, Sir.”
Daniel returned to the stove. “Now pay attention.”
For the next twenty minutes, Nick was a student again. Daniel guided him through the basics of a proper breakfast—eggs firm but not dry, bacon crisp but not burned, coffee strong but not bitter. Every correction was exacting but never cruel. Daniel’s voice was calm, authoritative, and every time he reached around Nick to adjust his hand, or nudged his thigh out of the way, Nick felt his body respond. Heat pooled in his gut. This was intimacy, built on structure. Expectation. Ownership.
Over breakfast, conversation turned.
Nick wiped his mouth. “Can I ask you something, Sir?”
Daniel arched a brow. “You may.”
“Who’s Antonio?”
A slow smile curved Daniel’s lips. He stood, dropped his apron to the floor and, buck naked, asked, “What do you see?”
Nick’s breath caught.
Daniel’s body was lit by morning light like sculpture. He turned slowly, displaying his physique with deliberate ease.
Not knowing the appropriate response to such a question, Nick could only answer, “You Sir. Naked…and…” pausing to giggle…” totally ripped.”
“This is perfection, little man. Antonio is my personal trainer. A sadist when he needs to be. But effective.”
Nick swallowed.
Daniel stepped closer, cock swaying heavily between his legs. “I’ve kept this body because I expect discipline—from myself first. You, on the other hand...”, he gave Nick a once-over that was almost surgical. “…you’re sexy as hell. Athletic. Naturally gifted. But you haven’t earned it. Not like I have.”
Nick flushed. “I work out—”
“I know. But not with purpose. You want to please me? Then look like a man a man like me would show off. I want to be proud of you. I want every man—and woman—in the room to be jealous. Of your body. Of your obedience. Of me, because they know I own you.”
Nick realized he was being chastened. The words, “Look like a man a man like me would show off’ hit him squarely in the gut. His only response was a humbled, “Yes, Sir.”
“Antonio will be here soon. He trains me on weekends. When you’re here, you’ll train with us.”
‘When you’re here…’ Nick replayed in his mind. That sounded promising.
Daniel walked into the hall and returned with a small bundle of clothing. “Here,” he said, tossing it to Nick. “For the workout.”
Nick unfolded the pieces: a barely-there pair of shorts—tight, white, high on the thigh. A black jockstrap. And a stringer tank that clung to nothing but his upper pecs and shoulders.
He held it up, incredulous. “These are tiny.”
Daniel grinned. “That’s the point. Now put it on.”
Nick dressed, watching himself in the mirror as he pulled it all on. The shorts hugged his ass so tightly the straps of the jock were visible below the hem. The tank left little to the imagination. His cock hardened just seeing the way the fabric clung to him. He looked like a slut. And he secretly loved it.
Daniel watched him from the doorway. “Good. You look the part.”
A knock at the side door announced Antonio.
Nick turned—and got his first look.
Antonio was tall, Latin, in his mid-thirties, muscles stacked like bricks, dark eyes sharp with humor and power. His gaze swept over Nick’s body with no attempt to hide the evaluation.
“Good morning jefe,” he greeted Daniel.
“Looking good this morning, my man.”
Looking at Nick, he added with an approving smile, “And who have we here?”
Daniel explained, without explaining, that this was Nick, and that he’d be training with them on the weekends going forward. Antionio knew not to ask specifics. It was all very clear.
“Nice to meet you,” Antonio said, shaking his hand, now sizing Nick up even more noticeably. “You’ve gotten a running start”, he said, referring to Nick’s physique, “but there’s some work to do.” Daniel nodded in agreement. Nick was used to perfection, now these two were sizing him up as if he were a piece of meat.
Daniel led them through small talk, talking about his workout progress and challenges. As they talked, Nick followed Daniel and Antonio down a hallway toward a wing of the house Nick hadn’t seen yet.
Antionio, opened the door and as Nick followed them in, he saw an elaborately outfitted gym, with every piece of equipment imaginable.
Looking at Nick, Daniel said, “You’re going to be spending a lot of your time in here, little man,” and exchanged a knowing glance with Antonio.
“Let’s get a baseline read”, Daniel said as he led them to a piece of equipment that looked like a scale but it had waist-high arms to grasp on to.
Daniel gave Antonio a nod, and he turned to Nick as said, “Strip. Body fat. You need to be naked for an accurate reading."
Nick glanced at Daniel. One nod. That was all it took.
Nick stepped onto the scale, bare and half-aroused.
Antonio smirked. “16.4%. You’ve got some work to do.”
Daniel stepped on next. “11.5%,” Antonio announced. “Just like last month.”
Daniel turned to Nick. “11% will be your goal. I’m slightly higher due to my age. You have some work to do, little man.”
Nick nodded, standing completely naked, fully exposed.
The workout was brutal.
Squats. Pullups. Burpees. High-intensity intervals. Daniel kept up the entire time, never losing form, never wavering. Nick could match him for strength, but not stamina. Daniel didn’t sweat—he glistened.
By the end, Nick was wrecked. His jock, which he’d slipped back on during warmups, was soaked.
Antonio handed him a towel. “Good start. I’ll email you a full regime.”
Daniel clapped him on the back, his palm firm against Nick’s slick skin. “Quick lunch. Then pool.”
Nick nodded, exhausted, but delighted to hear the afternoon would be poolside.
Without excusing himself, Daniel left the room and returned with something in his hand which he tossed to Nick. Another Speedo—this one white.
Nick held it up, blinking. “Sir, this is... tiny.”
Daniel turned, already heading upstairs. “That’s the point.”
Nick stood in the guest bathroom, his heart pounding as he pulled the white speedo up over his legs. Half the size of the one he wore last weekend when they raced, and that was as risqué as he’d ever dared.
He stepped in front of the mirror and looked at himself.
The white fabric clung to every contour of his lower body—barely containing his thickening cock. It hugged the base tightly, curving upward with the outline of his shaft, the pink head unmistakably visible just below the surface. His balls were lifted and cradled in a way that was almost obscene, the high-cut sides exaggerating the slope of his V-line.
His upper body was just as exposed: chest broad and smooth, with a faint golden tan and the slightest dusting of blond hair between his pecs. His thighs were thick and carved, lightly freckled with sun and muscle. His ass—high, round, a product of years in the gym—was almost fully exposed from behind.
He looked... like an offering. Hell, he was an offering.
Nick’s cock twitched. He adjusted it, took a deep breath, and headed downstairs.
Daniel was stretched out on a lounger by the pool in a black speedo, sunglasses on, drink in hand, his body long and gleaming in the sun.
Nick stepped outside and crossed the patio toward him.
Daniel didn’t look up at first, but when he did—slowly removing his glasses—his eyes traveled over Nick’s nearly-naked form with a smirk that curled at the edges.
“Mmmmmm little man,” Daniel murmured. “You look even sexier than I’d imagined.”
Nick hesitated. “You bought this especially for me?”
“Who else would I have bought it for?” Daniel’s eyes moved lower. “That thing’s see-through and you haven’t even been in the water yet.”
Nick flushed. He knew it. He could feel it.
“I hope you like my taste,” Daniel added. “There’s a lot more where that came from. And wait until Antonio’s done with you. You’ll be my prize possession.”
Nick blushed deeper, his cock stiffening in the white fabric. He was simultaneously turned on, embarrassed, but most of all, on a high from Daniel’s approval.
Daniel pointed toward the house. “Please go make us lunch, little man. Something healthy. And bring out two Long Island Iced Teas.”
“Yes, sir,” Nick said softly, heading inside.
Nick pulled up a recipe and moved through Daniel’s sleek kitchen. Within minutes, he’d plated a grilled chicken and avocado salad—he figured Daniel would approve. The cocktails were trickier, but he found the mix: vodka, tequila, rum, gin, triple sec, splash of Coke and sour. Strong. Dangerous.
He carried the tray out to the pool, setting it down on the table between them.
Daniel lifted his glass and took a sip. “Perfect.” He nodded. “Lunch too. You’re learning”. With that, Daniel pulled Nick down and gave him a passionate kiss, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. He was more than pleased with Nick and wanted him to know.
Nick smiled, flush with pride, a pride that, despite all his accomplishments, he’d never felt before.
After they ate, Daniel suggested they swim a few laps and another friendly 800m race. They dove in and, like before, Daniel won. Barely. When Nick climbed out, as anticipated—his white speedo was now fully transparent.
Everything was visible. His thick, veiny cock curved upward in full relief, the head flushed pink and slick. His pubes were clearly visible beneath the fabric, dark and teasing. His ass glistened, bare and perfect in the sunlight.
Daniel gave a low whistle. “Christ, Nick. You look like you’re auditioning for a porn shoot.”
Nick was transported to another planet. A planet of homoerotic splendor. Servitude bookended with praise and approval. Complete bliss. He couldn’t believe the turn his life had taken.
They lounged in the sun, sipping more of the sweet, alcoholic tea, the heat and the cocktails lulling them into a lazy haze.
Nick was in that strange half-sleep zone when he heard the unmistakable creak of the pool gate opening.
A man in his mid-thirties walked in through the side gate like he owned the place—or at least knew he was always welcome. Swarthy, sweat-dusted, and sinfully good-looking. Nick’s imagination went into overdrive…the kind of man who didn’t just clean pools—he ruined marriages, confused straight men, and left more than a few of his clients tangled in their sweat-stained sheets.
His skin was olive-brown, hairy, and stretched tight over thick forearms roped with veins. Ink curled up one bicep as he hoisted a net skimmer lazily over one shoulder. His black curls were mostly tamed beneath a backward cap, but a few errant locks clung to his temples with sweat. A dusting of dark stubble shaded his sharp jaw, and his eyes—molten brown and almost too bold—flicked up just long enough to scan Nick, then settle on Daniel with a grin.
The tight royal-blue work uniform was more suggestion than cover: a clingy, worn T-shirt that stuck to the ridges of his chest and lower abs like second skin, and mesh gym shorts that did nothing to hide his heavy dick beneath. Nick couldn’t help but notice the outline. Hell, it was practically an introduction.
“Afternoon, papi,” he said, voice a scratchy, accented baritone that sounded like cigarettes and sex. He winked at Daniel, not a subtle wink, but the kind that lingered. “Water’s lookin’ good today.”
Daniel didn’t blink. “So are you, Marco.”
Marco gave a low chuckle and turned toward the pool. He didn’t walk—he prowled. And when he bent down to check the pump, his shorts rode up just enough to give a brief, maddening glimpse of a perfect, round ass dusted with dark hair.
Nick swallowed hard.
There was no question: Marco had been here before.
Marco looked over and, pausing a beat, said, somewhat unconvincingly, “Didn’t know you had company.”
Daniel waved a hand. “Nick, meet Marco. Marco keeps the place in shape.”
Nick felt naked—because he practically was. His see-through suit clung tighter than ever, and Marco didn’t hide his interest. He started with a stare, which evolved into a leer, and ended with a nearly obscene licking of his lips. Oh yeah, he was interested.
“Hot today,” Daniel said. “Feel free to lose the shirt.”
Marco didn’t need much encouragement and peeled off his uniform shirt. Underneath, his torso was sheer perfection—lean muscle, bronzed skin, nipples tight in the sun. His abs carved from labor, not the gym, narrow waist leading to low-slung shorts.
Nick tried not to look. Failed.
Marco’s cleaning routine was like a ballet. He knew he was putting on a show for Daniel, and, somehow, Daniel signaled him to turn up the heat for Nick. He flexed, stretched, and moved like a seductive Cirque du Soleil performer. He obscenely snuck glances at Nick, eyes lingering on his cock, still thick and pressing against the transparent fabric. He stared so relentlessly it was as if he were daring Daniel to scold him.
Daniel watched both of them. He saw everything and quietly smiled.
As if scripted, when Marco finished up, he walked over. “That’s it for me today”, leading Daniel to ask if this was his last stop.
“Yes sir, done for the day”, Marco announced.
Expecting this, Daniel quickly responded, “Well, hell, it’s hot out here. We’d love the company, wouldn’t we Nick?”
Surprised to be included in the discussion, Nick was caught off guard, “Of course..” he stumbled. “Please join us Marco.”
Marco hesitated. “I—well…”
“Come on,” Daniel insisted. “You have a suit under that, right?”
Marco grinned. “Yeah, I always do. Never know when you’ll be asked to take a dip.” With little hesitation, he slipped off his shorts, revealing a tiny, electric-blue thong. It barely covered the essentials. The front was stuffed, obscene. It barely contained his cock and his hairy balls spilled out of the sides. The back, merely a string, disappeared between his two, melon-like orbs. Daniel behaved like he’d seen this god-like creature many times before. Nick could barely breathe.
Daniel let out a low growl. “Damn, I forgot how much that suit flatters you. Or maybe you just grew into it.”
Marco chuckled. “You’re bad, papi.”
Daniel turned to Nick. “Nick, another round …this time for all three of us.”
Nick nodded and walked inside, equal parts jealous and turned on. He knew he was being dismissed, sent away to serve. His cock pulsed. He loved it. Hated it. Craved it.
When he returned with the drinks, Marco had pulled up a lounger on the other side of Daniel, so now Daniel was flanked on one side with Marco in his blue thong, and the other with Nick in his transparent speedo.
Daniel took his time with whatever he had in mind. They lounged, drank, talked about nothing, with Daniel absentmindedly caressing his cock over the fabric of the speedo. But then, unexpectedly, he stood up, stretched and peeled it off. “Ah….,this feels much better,” he said as he scratched his now freed up cock and balls. Playing with himself, he joked, “My boys need some fresh air.”
Looking straight at Nick, Daniel ordered, “You too, little man”.
Nick, again not able to control his hardening cock, slid off his wet suit, revealing a quickly engorging woodie.
Daniel turned to Marco. “You joining us?”
Marco smirked. “Why not?” as he slid off the thong.
Three naked men. Three competing erections.
Daniel's was the embodiment of his authority—thick, long, and unhurried. Even at rest, it commanded attention. When aroused, it filled out with a slow, deliberate swell—veins rising along its shaft like topographic lines marking forbidden terrain. His balls were equally authoritative—large, pendulous, like a man with nothing to prove. Just holding him was an act of submission. To suck him…a rite of passage.
Nick’s was, in a word, youth. It stood like the rest of him—earnest, eager, achingly hard at the slightest provocation. Cut, thick, with a beautiful upward curve that gave it a natural readiness, as though it were perpetually asking “please”. His balls, tight and athletic, pulled high like the rest of his body was working toward climax as a singular machine. There was something unformed about it, not in size or shape, but in energy. It hadn’t been taught yet. It didn’t know what it was for—except to serve, to leak, to ache for another man’s touch.
Marco’s wasn’t elegant—it was real. Thick, uncut, and unapologetically raw, it hung heavy between his thighs with the lazy confidence of a man who’d never once trimmed a hair or cared about angles. The foreskin was dark, loose, often sticking slightly from sweat or friction—only peeling back now that it was hard enough to demand it. And it did so with brutal intent: veiny, blunt, just enough to feel dangerous. The head wasn’t polished or pretty—it was swollen, meaty, ruddy from friction and use. His shaft was ringed with veins and dusted thick with hair, like the rest of him—dense, coarse, utterly unmanscaped. His balls were big, low-hanging, furred and primal, swinging like a wrecking ball with every thrust. It was working-man’s meat—heavy, hot, and indifferent to approval. It was pure, feral masculinity.
The three laid there silently, Marco following Daniel’s lead, gently stroking his thickening cock, Nick, wanting to but still too timid.
Daniel looked down at his and asked, already knowing the answer, “Marco, what are you going to do about this?.”
“Same as always, papi?” Marco asked.
“Fuck yes, Marco. Get after it”, Daniel ordered.
Marco didn’t answer. He knew what to do. This wasn’t his first rodeo. He dropped to his knees and took Daniel in his mouth..
Nick’s head jerked to look at Daniel. Using only his eyes he looked quizzically at Daniel, thinking, ‘I thought I was yours, not some random pool guy. What am I supposed to do now?’
Daniel, not happy with Nick’s unspoken assertiveness, stared him down. If they had been together longer, Daniel would’ve been truly angry; Nick had overstepped his bounds. But this time, and this time only, he’d cut him some slack.
Daniel took a long breath, and spoke firmly, “Little man, tell me House Rule #4.” Nick’s mind spun… he was so conflicted watching a stranger sucking Daniel’s cock he couldn’t think straight. He mentally ticked them off in no particular order….always wear a jock strap, always clean inside and out, never cum without permission, expect corporal punishment. Which one was he missing---and it hit Nick like a ton of bricks—that Nick may be shared at with Daniel’s friends at his discretion. Daniel watched him closely as Nick realized what was being asked of him. At that precise moment, Daniel broke eye contact with Nick, looked down at Marco—now vigorously sucking his cock—back at Nick and nodded. Without using words, Nick knew exactly what to do.
Fueled by jealousy and heat, Nick cautiously knelt at Daniel’s side across from Marco and joined him. Marco was more than happy to share the wealth and welcomed Nick to the party. Their mouths met on Daniel’s shaft, each taking a side, sliding up and down it in unison. For a moment, they fought for position—Nick nearly growling—but eventually they found a mutually beneficial rhythm. They licked. They took turns swallowing him. They alternated roles where one would polish his balls while the other would deep throat him. Sometimes they kissed each other, mouths slick with Daniel’s taste. It didn’t take long for Nick to get with the game, and before you could say ‘cocksucker’ Nick was sucking off Daniel and making out with Marco like he was born to it.
Hands behind his head, Daniel laid back and let his boys work him hard and there was something special about watching Nick down there. Daniel had never felt about anyone like he did Nick and was feeling immense pride and gratitude. Pride that Nick was coming along so quickly, and gratitude that he had the vision to find him and mentor him.
Daniel grunted, his cock now soaked with saliva and getting perilously close to blowing announced, “You two are hungry cocksuckers this afternoon, aren’t you?” he asked sarcastically.
Marco playfully pulled Nick into a headlock and answered, “Your boy here has one hot mouth, papi. Where’d you find him?”
Daniel chose not to answer. Instead, he rose and pointed his two boys to where he’d laid on the lounger: “Marco. On your back on the lounger. Nick—on all fours. Show Marco what a talented mouth you have while I take what’s mine.”
Nick was slightly taken aback at the command, but he reminded himself that ‘to be shared’ was one of the house rules he’d signed on for. And, more importantly, this was quickly becoming one of his long-held fantasies…to be used by more than one man, older, with little regard for his pleasure. He stared at Marco’s thick, unkempt, well-used cock, lowered himself onto it and went back to the same place he’d spent last night: pure sexual submission—a place that before two weeks ago only existed in his imagination. Now it was becoming a daily reality.
Marco sat up in the lounger with his legs spread to give Nick maximum room to go deep. Nick was now all in… Marco’s cock in his mouth; Nick swallowing him as deep as he could. More than anything, he wanted to make Daniel proud. He pushed his head down on Marco’s cock even further than he had Daniel’s the night before prompting Marco to cry out, “Holy fuck, papi, he’s deep throating me!”
“That’s my boy,” Daniel said as he was fingering Nick’s hole, getting him ready. The recognition gave Nick chills; he couldn’t be prouder and committed himself to taking Daniel’s cock as deep in his hole as he was taking Marco’s cock in his mouth.
Since Daniel’s cock was plenty lubed from the dual cock-sucking, it slid into Nick easily. Nick momentarily gasped, but slowly resumed taking Marco’s cock as Daniel, once fully penetrated, let it rest allowing Nick’s hole to adjust.
Nick was back in heaven. The feeling of Daniel’s cock buried in his ass was beyond comprehension. Then add Marco’s thick cock down his throat, he had become the slut he’d seen in porn and fantasized about endlessly. He was over-stimulated. Daniel’s cock massaging his prostate alone would be enough to make him happy for a month. And he was relentless, deliberately, circling his g-spot with the tip of his cock.
“Like that boy? Like daddy’s dick up you? Tell me boy…let’s hear it.”
Nick of course had his mouth full, but gargled a “Yeth thur” guttural response.
Daniel continued…”My pool boy’s cock in your mouth. What a fucking slut you’ve become. Haven’t you, boy?”
Nick’s best attempt at answering…”yeth thur..” as he groaned.
Marco could sense Daniel picking up momentum so he grabbed Nick by his hair and pressed him down on his cock.
“Take his cock, slut”, Daniel ordered. “Swallow his cock.”
Daniel made eye contact with Marco to let him know he was ready. Marco nodded that he was as well, and the timing was perfect.
Marco went first…”papi!!!” he yelled as he shot rope after rope of cum, first down Nick’s throat, then on his tongue, and saved the last few squirts to cover his face and hair.
At the same time, Nick felt a sharp slap on his ass as Daniel came too. “Here I cum little man”, he shouted, and Nick got filled from the other end as well. Hot liquid spurge, driven up his hole, now surrounding Daniel’s cock sliding in and out, slowly losing force.
Nick felt beyond sated. He had been used by Marco, the pornstar-sexy pool boy, while his master bred him from behind.
He was filled. Used. Owned.
Marco used the opportunity to smear his cum all over Nick’s face with his softening cock.
Daniel slowly pulled out, leaving the three of them momentarily spent. Daniel pushed Nick into Marco’s arms, and, leaning down, covered the two of them with his own body staying there for what felt like an eternity. Breathing, with occasional random cock twitching from an intense ejaculation, all of them in heaven. Nick licked Marco’s cum off his lips and felt Daniel’s trickle down his leg. He wanted to cum more than anything, but knew he was being tested. At least for now, he’d have to be content with pleasing his master.
Marco needed to move on, so got dressed, gave them both warm good-bye kisses and was on his way. “Gotta do that again soon, papi. And next time I fuck the boy?” he asked.
“We’ll see, Marco, we’ll see…” Daniel responded with a grin.
