* * * * * * * * * * *
Quatre Raberba Winner, heir to a huge magazine empire, was relaxing by the pool. He had had enough of business for a while, and decided to take advantage of the beautiful sunny weather by his Olympic-sized pool. He lay back, trying to clear his thoughts of business for a few moments. He had been forced, by his father's untimely death, to take over the business at a very young age. Most of the time, he didn't mind; his father had been training him all his life for this job. He knew he was very good at it; but sometimes he just wanted to be able to act like the teenager he truly was. But that wasn't allowed. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be normal, to have no responsibilities, to have a normal job that didn't take up 23 hours of his day...
Quatre chided himself; he was feeling sorry for himself, and that was useless. He knew how lucky he was to have a business to run, to have a job and a comfortable lifestyle. That unfortunately brought his mind back to another problem he had to deal with. His aunts were pressuring him to marry soon, so there would be ample time to produce heirs. They thought he should at least be serious about someone by now, and they thought they had the perfect someone for him. Unfortunately, he couldn't stand her. That horrible Dorothy Catalonia....
The mere thought of her made his skin crawl. Her pushy aggressive behavior was matched only by her family's fortune, nearly the equal of the Winners'. She thought she was god's gift to the world, and any man would be lucky to be in her presence. Quatre didn't agree. The thought of marrying Dorothy disgusted him, and not just because she was a harpy bitch from hell. The other reason was that he secretly liked boys. Not that he could ever tell anyone; but his idea of a dream mate was certainly not Dorothy; it was more like the boy who was just now walking up to him, in fact.
Quatre sat up quickly, staring at the vision approaching him. Tall, perfectly muscled, brown hair falling in his eyes; the boy appeared to be about Quatre's age. As he came closer, Quatre was mesmerized by the long legs, the swaying hips, the short shorts; the blond dragged his eyes higher and realized two things: the skimpy tank top the boy wore said "Paul's Pool Cleaners," and he was in lust.
The boy put down the equipment he was carrying, and approached Quatre cautiously. As Quatre tried to close his mouth, the boy said, "My apologies, Mr. Winner. I didn't realize you would be here. I can come back later."
Quatre nearly jumped up. "No, no, it's no problem, really! Go ahead, I'll try to stay out of the way!" Quatre stepped closer to the boy, and realized he had the most beautiful emerald green eyes he had ever seen.
"Are you sure, Mr. Winner?" The boy sounded nervous. "It's no problem, really."
Quatre couldn't say that he was looking forward to watching the boy's incredible body, so he said. "I insist. By the way, please call me Quatre." He held out his hand.
The boy shook his hand cautiously, and smiled shyly. "I'm Trowa. Thanks," he replied.
Quatre shook Trowa's hand a bit longer than necessary, marveling at the strength he could feel in that hand. Quatre's gift had always been that he incredibly good at evaluating people, at judging their personalities. And in Trowa he sensed a good person with a lot of worries in his mind. Quatre instinctively wanted to help. Not to mention the fact that he wanted to fuck the hell out of the gorgeous boy as well. At that thought, he felt himself harden, and tried to calm his raging hormones. But once he had thought of it, the mental image wouldn't go away. He reluctantly released Trowa's hand.
Trowa stared for a minute at the golden angel before him. He had heard that the Winner heir was young, but not that he was incredibly beautiful as well. And very nice and polite. He had been cleaning this pool every week for months, and hadn't as much as caught a glimpse of the blond before. Now here he was, in the creamy, flawless flesh, swimming shorts slung low around his slim hips... Trowa tried to stop that thought, but it was too late. Quatre looked just like the lovers he had fantasized about, but he was real. So real he could smell his fresh, clean scent... he was half hard before he knew it, and rising fast. Trowa longed to kneel at the blond's feet, worship his golden arousal, offer himself as a virgin sacrifice before the golden god... not that Trowa had ever done anything like that before, or that Quatre would want him. Someone as beautiful and sexy as Quatre, even if he weren't straight, wouldn't want to have a lowly pool boy. Trowa forced himself to excuse himself and concentrate on his work, and ignore his now-throbbing erection.
Quatre watched Trowa set up his equipment, wishing he knew how to seduce someone, or even to flirt, but although he had had sex a few times, in dark, illicit clubs, he knew nothing of relationships. He settled back in the chair, putting on his dark sunglasses so Trowa wouldn't realize that he was staring directly at that gorgeous ass. Trowa kept his back to him; fortunately, that meant Quatre could stare all he wanted, but unfortunately, there was no chance for eye contact. Quatre discreetly tried to readjust his arousal; he wouldn't be able to get up anytime soon. He almost moaned out loud when Trowa bent over, and the shorts pulled up even more... his cock ached and his fingers itched to touch the beautiful boy.
Trowa tried to concentrate on his work; it wasn't easy, because not only was he hard as a rock from the golden boy lying behind him, but he had to make sure to keep his back to Quatre so the other boy wouldn't see his arousal. The ache between his legs was making him feel wanton; he bent over, imagining Quatre was behind him, spreading him open, thrusting deep inside him... he almost whimpered, he could almost feel the other boy touch him. Now he had a raging hard-on that wouldn't go away. He was so distracted that he nearly let his skimmer float away; and when he reached to retrieve it, he lost his balance and fell in the pool with a loud splash.
Quatre watched with horror as Trowa fell in the pool; without a thought, he dived in after the tall boy. He didn't stop to think that maybe he didn't need any help, or that a person who worked cleaning pools would probably be able to swim; he just launched himself. He reached Trowa just as the boy was surfacing, coughing slightly but apparently all right. Quatre's momentum carried him all the way to Trowa, and he automatically grabbed the other boy, holding him close and staring with concern in the emerald eyes.
Trowa could indeed swim; he had just been taken by surprise by his loss of balance, and had inadvertently swallowed some water on the initial impact. He was fine, though; but when he found himself in Quatre's arms he didn't protest. He let the blond pull him close before he remembered that he was still hard; too late, as Quatre held him tight, Trowa gasped as he felt hardness against his, and realized it was Quatre's erection. He stared, stunned, into aquamarine eyes.
At first, Quatre had been only concerned with Trowa's safety; he had forgotten to hide his erection. But as soon as he realized his error, he also felt Trowa's arousal, and was filled with joy and lust. The two boys stared at each other for a long moment, before Quatre couldn't stand it anymore, and pressed his lips to Trowa's. Trowa kissed back immediately, and they opened their mouths and explored each other's mouths hungrily.
Trowa couldn't believe what was happening; he was having his first kiss, fully clothed in a pool, with one of the richest boys in the world, that he had just met; he reached out to grab the edge of the pool as he lost himself in the kiss. The two boys clung to each other, rubbing their aching erections against each other, almost forgetting to breathe in their passion.
They stopped kissing, to breathe; still they pressed against each other, unable to believe what had happened but unwilling to break the spell. "T-trowa?" gasped Quatre.
"Yes, Quatre?" answered Trowa breathlessly.
"I... I want..." Quatre didn't know how to voice his desire.
"Anything," breathed Trowa, and he meant it. He would do anything for, and with, the angel before him, without reservation.
"I want you," Quatre declared, slightly more sure of himself.
"I want to," agreed Trowa, "But... I've never..."
Quatre smiled. "I don't have much experience. But I won't hurt you."
"I trust you," Trowa said simply, and kissed Quatre.
They melted into each other's arms, running their free hands all over each other. Almost forgetting they were floating in a pool, the two boys kissed passionately.
When they paused again, Quatre gasped, "Would you like to get out?" Trowa nodded, and they helped each other out of the water. At this point, Quatre realized that Trowa was still dressed. His white shirt clung to him like a second skin, and Quatre couldn't help but admire the sight. Trowa's hard nipples showed clearly through the thin material, and the wet shorts clearly outlined his bulging arousal. Trowa looked good enough to eat, and Quatre wanted to do just that.
Trowa shivered as he felt the weight of the blond boy's lustful gaze. He wanted Quatre to touch him, kiss him, do everything to him. "Quatre..." whispered Trowa.
Quatre smiled up at the tall boy. "You're beautiful, Trowa," he murmured. He took a step closer, reaching down to toy with the drawstring of his shorts.
Trowa gazed at Quatre; even wet, the other boy looked like an angel, and his desire for Trowa was clearly visible through his swimming trunks. Then Quatre was sliding his wet shorts off, standing naked in front of the other boy, arousal straight up and rock hard. Even naked and hard, Quatre managed to look angelic and pure to Trowa.
But what Quatre wanted to do to Trowa wasn't angelic. He smiled at Trowa and said, "Take off your clothes, now, Trowa? Please? I want to see you."
The thought of Quatre looking at him aroused Trowa even more, and he quickly peeled off his wet clothes. Quatre watched hungrily, eager to see and touch all of Trowa. Finally, the tall boy stood as naked as Quatre. The two boys looked at each other for a long moment; then they both moved forward as one, devouring each other with hands and mouths, pressing young hard bodies hard against each other, drowning in passion.
Finally, Quatre broke the kiss; though his staff was very discreet, he didn't want to make love to Trowa out in the open. He led the tall boy to the small cabana beside the pool. It had privacy screens that could be drawn, and Quatre did so after he pulled Trowa inside. The floor was strewn with large pillows, and Quatre drew Trowa down into the pillows after grabbing a small tube of hypoallergenic lotion. He kissed the green-eyed boy, pushing him gently back onto the cushions and maneuvering himself between the long legs, spreading them with his own thighs.
Trowa let himself be eased back by the stunning blond, surrendering willingly to his dominance. He spread his legs happily, moaning into the blond's mouth as he felt the small hands between them. He wanted everything that Quatre could do to him. He gasped out loud as he felt the blond's lubricated finger brush his opening. Then it slipped inside, and Trowa moaned louder, mouth hanging open at the sensation of being opened.
By the time Quatre was finished prepping him, Trowa was panting, begging wordlessly for more. Quatre's fingers inside him were wonderful, and a promise of wonderful things to come. He whimpered when the blond removed them.
"Shh, Trowa, just wait," Quatre soothed as he quickly lubed his own throbbing arousal. He wanted to do other things to Trowa as well, but their young bodies were screaming for action, and he couldn't wait anymore; the image of Trowa spread out before him was just too tempting. The tall boy was amazingly responsive, and his erotic cries made the blond's blood run hotter.
Carefully Quatre positioned himself; then he was sliding into heaven, taking Trowa's virginity slowly and deliberately. Trowa cried out, but not in pain; the green-eyed boy clutched at the pillows, mouth open and legs spread. Quatre was on his knees, pushing slowly inside Trowa's body; the pleasure mounted and Trowa's body gripped him.
Finally the two boys were completely joined; bodies as one, they paused to catch their breath. "Are you ok, Trowa?" gasped Quatre, trying to keep from coming too soon. He wanted to give Trowa the ultimate pleasure.
"Yes, oh, god, Quatre, yes, it's so good," moaned Trowa, marveling at how anything could feel this good. Quatre's cock was all the way inside him, stretching him, possessing him... the mere thought of what they were doing made him feel incredible.
Quatre decided they were ready, and began to thrust in and out of the tall boy. He bent down to claim Trowa's mouth again, and he sped up his thrusts as passion overtook them both. Soon they were both crying out with every thrust, and Quatre was losing his rhythm.
"Harder..." begged Trowa, and Quatre knew he couldn't last much longer. He reached down to take Trowa's dripping cock in his hand, and Trowa screamed his name as the blond began to pump it.
Helplessly, Trowa surrendered to sensation; gasping, he climaxed, blinded by pleasure, he shot his seed all over them, muscles clamping down excruciatingly on Quatre's cock. The waves of pleasure were still washing over him when he felt Quatre stiffen.
The blond thought he was dying; he screamed his lover's name as he released his passion inside Trowa. The ecstasy went on and on; Trowa's body gripped him and milked out Quatre's climax. Nothing had ever felt remotely like this.
Quatre's limbs wouldn't support him anymore; collapsing next to Trowa, he kissed the brown-haired boy tenderly. "That was amazing, Trowa."
Trowa nodded, pulling Quatre close. They dozed off together on the soft cushions, their future together stretched out before them.