The Pool Man’s Curvy MILF (An Older Woman Younger Man BDSM Housewife Erotic Romance Story)

By Kandice Winslow

Christy has it all. Money, a mansion, a sports car. And yet, she has nothing. She's in a loveless relationship. Not to mention her husband's inability to please her. He's simply too small and has no passion in bed...

 When the pool man arrives, it's a welcome surprise. The lonely housewife spends her day staring at the sexy younger man out the window. He's so hot, and so big... But she's married, and there's no way her husband can find out about this. It's a risk she's willing to take.

 

The Pool Man's Curvy MILF is a hot erotic romance story involving a younger man falling in love as he lusts over an older woman with a very high sex drive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kandice Winslow
• Release date: Oct 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223583462

Book preview

Chapter One

I wake up around the usual time, having been out of work for the past two months, but considering my husband brings home 7 figures each year it really isn’t too big of a deal for the either of us. Work for me was mainly something that would get me out of the house, not at all a necessity, although I did enjoy my brief stint in cosmetics while it lasted. I stumble out of bed, which is out of character for me, although I do feel a bit worn out from the social event we attended downtown last night, my husband introducing me to various suits he knew and worked with, all of them looking exactly the same to me. I simply smiled, shook hands, and nodded in agreement, never having any interest in what they had to say – the lifestyle is just so boring... Finally after using the bathroom I make it to the kitchen where I put on a cup of my delicious moon pie coffee, a new favorite I just discovered at the local farmers market. While waiting I grab my yoga mat out of the closet along with my jump rope, in preparation for my morning workout.

Over the past year I’ve lost 22 pounds, and I plan to keep it that way, but I know the only way to do so is to keep up with my regular exercise routine, so most mornings consist of me sweating my ass off in front of the TV as I watch my favorite personal trainer’s exercise DVDs. I lay on the mat, do my stretches, pop my back, and make it halfway through my crunches when the brewer beeps, letting me know that my coffee is ready. Thank God I think to myself as I spring to my feet and run to the kitchen. 

Today is one of those days when I would be absolutely incapable of anything without my morning caffeine. As I’m pouring the brew into my favorite cup the phone rings, so I reluctantly walk over to pick it up, but I’m sick of being hassled by telemarketers and thought my husband said he had dealt with that issue already. I’m prepared to scream at the salesman on the other line, and when I pick up I say Hello?! with as much annoyance in my voice as I can muster.

Honey, has the pool man arrived yet? It’s Frank, my dick of a husband.

Oh, hi honey – pool man? Oh damn, how did I forget? No, no one’s here yet. What time did they say?

He groans and says passively Sometime late morning. Just waking up Christy? Good sleeping habit you’ve got yourself in.

I think about saying fuck you Frank, but I don’t. Instead I try to sound as awake as possible and say chirpily No honey, I’ve been up for a couple hours. Just out of breath from working out. You know how those planks make me feel. It’s a hell of a work -

That’s great babe, just wanted to see if they’d gotten there. I’ll see you at 7, working a little late tonight, have to send out these expense reports and prepare for the meeting next week in Brazil. He hangs up.

Yeah, fuck you too Frank. I mutter to myself.

I sit on the couch and slowly slurp my coffee. Damn is it good, and though it always makes me feel a little better, deep down I feel the emotions I’ve been trying to repress for the past months. I need out of this damn marriage. My husband provides everything we could ever need, but he no longer loves me, kisses me, touches me, or even hugs me. Why? Do I look ugly now? I mean, I know my ass isn’t as perky as it was ten years ago but it still looks pretty damn good for 45 right? I lean back, sipping my coffee, and remember how he used to look at my body. As I stood naked in the bathroom combing my hair after a shower, he would grab the baby oil without me even asking and massage it down my back, legs, then back up to my cheeks, and slowly but surely slide his hand between the cheeks, past them, and enter my wetness. Those days were magical, but they were also long gone. We were young, happy, sexy, and successful. The only thing left was the success and without happiness it wasn’t worth a damn. I’m so deep in thought and reminiscence that I jump when the doorbell rings. I’m not even dressed, I realize. 

Just a minute! I yell, and run to the bathroom to throw on a robe.

I quickly walk to the door, open it, and I’m pretty sure my jaw drops. This guy can’t be a day older than 28. He’s got a jawline like a movie star, hair so perfect that James Dean would be jealous, and perfect 5 o’clock shadow that looks like it was carefully implanted on his face by LA’s top plastic surgeon. Then I look down at his arms, which are bulging out of a blue company t shirt that looks about two sizes too small for him, his biceps literally about to tear through the sleeve. His forearms are smooth and covered in dark ink, and the muscles ripple throughout, veins slightly popping out on the underside. This guy is absolutely perfect, built like a brick house but not to the point where he’s so big that it’s a turn off. I stop myself,