Pool Boy Watches Me: Shared Wife Milf Exhibitionist

By Suzy Bright

In the sultry heat of a California summer, Linda's life is a gilded cage. At thirty, she's married to a wealthy, successful man who provides everything she could ever need—except passion. Her days are filled with luxury, but her nights are empty, devoid of the spark that once ignited her marriage. That is, until she starts noticing the pool boy.

Brian is nineteen, a college swimmer with a body honed by years of athletic discipline. His youthful vigor and innocent charm awaken something in Linda that she thought had long since faded. She finds herself drawn to the window, watching him as he maintains their pool, his muscles flexing under the sun. It's a harmless fantasy—until her husband, Barry, catches her in the act.

Barry, a man of control and ambition, sees Linda's desire not as a threat, but as an opportunity. What starts as a voyeuristic thrill—Linda watching Brian, Barry watching Linda—evolves into a dangerous game of exhibitionism. Each Sunday, Linda and Barry push the boundaries of their marriage, engaging in steamy encounters that leave Linda breathless and Barry hungry for more.

But the real transformation comes when they invite Brian to join them. What begins as a forbidden fantasy viewed through glass doors becomes a reality that shatters all their preconceived notions of desire and fidelity. Linda, Barry, and Brian embark on a journey of sensual discovery, each Sunday bringing new explorations and deeper connections.

Linda learns to embrace her desires, finding a power in her sexuality that she never knew existed. Barry rediscovers his wife, seeing her anew through the eyes of a younger man. And Brian, the catalyst for their awakening, finds himself drawn into a world of pleasure and education that will change him forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Suzy Bright
• Release date: Jun 27, 2025

Suzy Bright

Suzy Bright is a provocateur with a pen, crafting stories that peel back the velvet curtain on desire, power, and the messy magic of human connection. With a wink and a whip-smart voice, she explores the intersections of lust and liberation, giving readers permission to indulge their darkest curiosities—no judgment, just juice.

Book preview

Chapter one

The sunlight filtered through the plantation shutters, casting striped shadows across Linda's bare legs as she sat at the edge of their California king. The sheets beside her lay undisturbed, Barry having risen hours ago to play golf with clients—Sunday, like every other day, was a business opportunity. She traced a finger along the Egyptian cotton, remembering when she used to wake to the press of his body against hers, his hands seeking her warmth in the drowsy morning light. Four years of marriage had transformed those hungry touches into perfunctory kisses on the forehead as he rushed out the door.

Linda rose and caught her reflection in the full-length mirror that dominated one wall of their master suite. At thirty, her body still turned heads—5'6 with a figure that her less generous friends attributed to good genes rather than the rigorous Pilates regimen she maintained three times a week. The blonde hair that fell in soft waves to her shoulders framed green eyes that Barry once described as intoxicating." She wondered when he'd stopped noticing them.

She slipped her silk robe over bare shoulders and padded downstairs, her footsteps silent against the Brazilian cherry hardwood that Barry had insisted upon during the renovation. Nothing but the best, he'd said, and he'd meant it. Their home was a showcase of carefully curated luxury—designer furniture, original artwork, and a resort-style pool visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated the back of the house. The diffuse scent of gardenia from the room diffusers she'd placed throughout their home greeted her as she made her way to the kitchen.

The coffee maker had already completed its cycle, programmed to brew precisely thirty minutes after Barry left. Even their morning caffeine was scheduled, optimized, like everything else in their life together. Linda poured herself a cup, added a precise teaspoon of raw sugar, and carried it to the great room, settling into the cream-colored sectional that faced their infinity pool.

She'd met Barry at a charity gala four years ago, when she was twenty-six and terrified of aging out of the dating pool without securing her future. He was fifteen years her senior, established in his career, and looked at her with an intensity that made her feel both desired and valuable. Their courtship had been a whirlwind of expensive restaurants, weekend getaways on private jets, and nights where his experienced hands had drawn pleasures from her body that she'd only read about in the erotic novels she kept hidden on her e-reader.

He'll take care of you, her mother had whispered at their wedding, approval gleaming in her eyes. And he had, in the material sense. Linda wanted for nothing—except the passion that had evaporated like morning dew under the harsh sun of routine.

She sipped her coffee and tried to remember the last time they'd had sex that didn't feel like another item on Barry's to-do list. Two months ago? Three? He approached their bedroom activities with the same efficiency he applied to his business dealings—goal-oriented, perfunctory, with little room for improvisation or play. Fifteen minutes from initiation to completion, always in their bedroom, always after his shower but before the eleven o'clock news. The predictability alone was enough to dry her desire before it could bloom.

Linda shifted on the couch, a familiar ache building between her thighs as she allowed herself to imagine something different. Spontaneous hands gripping her waist, urgent lips at her neck, being taken against a wall with desperate need rather than scheduled satisfaction. Her own fingers had become her most reliable lovers, seeking relief in the shower or during Barry's frequent business trips, her imagination supplying what her marriage couldn't.

The sound of the front door opening jolted her from her thoughts. Barry's voice carried from the foyer, his tone clipped as he finished a business call. Linda straightened, crossing her legs and smoothing her expression into one of pleasant neutrality—a skill she'd perfected since their first anniversary.

Market's looking favorable for the Reynolds acquisition, Barry announced as he strode into the great room, still in his golf attire—tailored shorts and a moisture-wicking polo that probably cost more than the monthly rent of her first apartment. At forty-five, he remained handsome in a distinguished way, his salt-and-pepper hair adding an air of authority that served him well in boardrooms and country clubs alike.

That's wonderful, Linda replied, her voice carrying the right notes of supportive interest. How was your game?

Under par until the back nine. He leaned down to brush his lips against her cheek, the gesture as automatic as checking his watch. Hendersons are coming for dinner Friday. Make reservations at Le Cirque, would you? And wear that blue dress—James appreciates a beautiful woman.

The comment might have once caused a flare of jealousy, but Barry's admiration of her appearance had long since revealed itself as pride of ownership rather than desire. She was an asset, like their home and the German cars in their garage—maintained, displayed, but rarely truly engaged with.

Of course. She smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. I was thinking we might stay in tonight? I could cook that sea bass you like.

For a moment, something flickered in Barry's expression—surprise, perhaps, at her deviation from their usual Sunday routine of separate activities culminating in takeout from the upscale Italian place down the street.

I've got the Peterson proposal to review before tomorrow. He was already reaching for his phone, checking emails that had accumulated during his brief offline period. But save me a plate. I'll try to wrap up by nine.

And just like that, the moment passed—another small opportunity for connection swept away by the current of his ambition. Linda nodded, watching as he disappeared into his home office, the soft click of the door a familiar punctuation to their interactions.

She turned back to the window, looking out at the immaculate landscaping and crystalline pool water. Everything in her life was beautiful, pristine, and utterly devoid of the messy passion she craved. Her reflection in the glass stared back at her, green eyes questioning the choices that had led her here—to this gilded cage where security had come at the cost of satisfaction.

Linda pressed her palm against the cool glass, a wordless acknowledgment of the barrier between the life she had and the one she wanted. At thirty, was this all there was? Luxury without liberation, comfort without connection? The thought settled in her chest like a stone as she turned away from her reflection, unable to face the longing she saw there.

Chapter two

Linda's Sunday stretched before her like the surface of their infinity pool—smooth, pristine, and utterly predictable. With Barry sequestered in his office and the housekeeper off for the day, she drifted through their home in a state of restless boredom, eventually settling in the breakfast nook with her second cup of coffee. The wall of glass before her offered a panoramic view of their backyard oasis, the morning sun transforming the water into a rippling sheet of diamonds. She checked her watch—10:30. The pool service always arrived at 11:00, a fact she'd never particularly noted until three weeks ago when the company had sent a new maintenance technician.

She'd abandoned her robe for a silk camisole and shorts—ostensibly for the growing heat of the day, though she couldn't deny the extra care she'd taken with her appearance this morning. A touch of tinted moisturizer, a hint of mascara to accentuate her green eyes, lip balm that left her mouth with a subtle shine. Casual Sunday preparations, she told herself, ignoring the fluttering anticipation in her stomach.

The sound of the side gate latch clicking open drew her eyes to the path that curved around from the front of the house. Brian appeared, equipment cart in tow, his movements displaying an athletic economy that immediately commanded her attention. Unlike Barry's golf buddies with their cultivated country club physiques, Brian's body was a testament to functional strength and natural