- A pool boy with extra perks of benefits – 01
- A pool boy with extra perks of benefits – 02
- A pool boy with extra perks of benefits – 03
- A pool boy with extra perks of benefits – 04
- A pool boy with extra perks of benefits – 05
- A pool boy with extra perks of benefits – 06
- A pool boy with extra perks of benefits – 07
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She smiled. “I’d love to. I think we’ve earned that much at least, don’t you?”
I took her hand in mine and walked over to the beach entry, where we could slowly enter the pool. The water was still pretty cool, not having had much time to heat up on the last day. I dove under the water, preferring the all-at-once method of getting used to the water, while Railey slowly walked deeper, standing on tip-toes, squealing when the cold water reached her breasts. “It’s going to warm up, right?”
“By tomorrow afternoon, it’ll be 10 degrees warmer. Another reason to finish filling it as early as possible.” I walked to her, and she wrapped her legs around me, her arms encircling my neck. I held her, moving slowly deeper, until the water was up to her neck. I stepped back toward the shallower water a few steps, until the water was armpit deep.
“It’s not so bad now,” she admitted.
“I wish this didn’t have to end,” I told her. “I can’t imagine not being around you every day.”
She nodded, pulling me in close. “I know. Back to the boring, hum-drum, everyday life.”
“No. Not that. A new life, pursuing your dreams, right?”
She nodded. “I hope so.”
I pressed my lips against hers, and we kissed each other thoroughly, lovingly, deeply. I had my hands on her ass, fondling them, reaching inside her bottoms to feel her flesh.
I walked her to the shallow end, and put her down. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
I went to the porch and retrieved the work she’d done, after drying my hands thoroughly. I grabbed the towels and set the towels and her writing down on the towels, along with a pen and the goals notebook to lean on. Then I got back in the pool and joined her at the side of her work.
“Find anything out, while you make your dream list?”
“Did I ever. There’s so many things I want to do. I probably could have added another 100 to the list.”
“Like what? What really sticks in your head?”
“I like doing new and unusual things, but I don’t. Not anymore. Not since I was in high-school. I want to scuba dive on a sunken boat, I want to go hang-gliding. I want to parachute out of a plane. I want to spend an afternoon on jet-skis. I want to ride across the country using the back-roads on the back of a motorcycle. I want to go on a safari. I want to climb Kilimanjaro. I want to hike the Great Wall. I…”
I laughed. “I get it. Lots of things you want to do. How about education, career, and finances? Any ideas there?”
She nodded eagerly. “I want to get a degree in marketing, and an MBA. I want to learn all about running and operating a non-profit organization. I’m going to work for one of the medium-sized non-profits and see how things are really done, versus what they teach you in school. And then I’m going to figure out who I most want to help in the world, and dedicate my life to that. I’m not sure what that will be yet, but I know I want to help people, not endangered animals, not the environment, not politics. People who need my help, and whose lives can change dramatically for the better.”
She was leaning over the side of the pool, flipping through her pages of writing, so animated it had me choking up. Such a difference.
I was leaning against her body, looking over her shoulder. “You know what I love about what you just told me?”
“No. What?”
“How you went from all the things you said you wanted to do, to telling me what you were going to do. You are going to work for a non-profit. You are going to figure out who you’re going to help, and how you are going to dedicate your life to that. That’s wonderful. You know. You have a purpose.”
My hands seemed to have a mind of their own, and were busy wandering over her body.
“Did I say that? I didn’t even notice.”
“Yes, you went from a list of things you wanted to do, things that interested you but were not absolutes, to the core of what you wanted to do with your life.”
I turned her around so she was facing me. “Tonight, you’ll take that list, and using it you’ll make a new one. You’ll list five things you want to do, you want to have, you want to learn, and you want to be. Then you’ll make a plan for achieving each one, with small goals that will get you to your final goal. For example, if you chose to climb Kilimanjaro, you’d figure out what you need to know to do it, how you’ll need to prepare, when you want to go, how much money you’ll need to do it, etc.”
“You’re a slave driver, you know?” she said with a grin.
“Yes. You’ll thank me someday. But I’m not done yet. By Monday, I want you to make one initial step toward each of your goals. You’re going to write down these goals, and you’re going to read them every morning, the first thing you do when you get up.”
“How do you know all this stuff, Sam?”
“My father made me do the same thing when I turned 16. So that my final years of high-school would prepare me for what I wanted out of life. Make sure I go to the right college. Pursue the right degree. Things like that.”
“You have a list then?”
“I do. Let’s get out of the pool and I’ll show you.”
We went to the porch, and dried off. “Lay down. Time for me to lotion you up one last time,” I told her. I went to my wallet and retrieved my list. It was laminated, folded in half, with writing on both sides. “Once a month I update it. Rewriting my goals, removing things I’ve completed and adding new tasks is a powerful thing.”
I held it in front of her. “It’s a very private thing. I’ve never shown anybody this list. Some of the items are very personal.” I put it in her hands.
“You’ll let me read it?”
“Of course. You are the only one I’d consider letting you read it. You are on it.”
She turned her head and looked at me in surprise. “Me?”
“Since I first saw you.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Not in the least. At least one of my goals in every category is what I call a ‘reach’. It’s not likely to happen, but it’s something that I can dream about. You’ve always been in that category.”
She was scanning the list, and found herself. “Make love to Railey Thomas. Written in italics.”
“Italics are my reach goals.”
“You’ve had my name on your list for how long?”
I grabbed the lotion and started on her back. “Since I made my first list. Every month for the last 3 years I’ve made a new list, writing it from scratch, and you’ve always been part of it. I knew I didn’t stand a chance, but a guy could dream right?”
“This is pretty incredible,” she said softly.
“I know. It’s one of those goals I had no idea how to approach. A lot of people are talking about this whole idea of ‘The Secret’ where if you think about something enough and want it enough, and you open yourself to opportunities, the law of attraction will make it come true. I’m not much of a believer in that. I believe hard work and perseverance has a lot more to do with achieving your goals. But after this week, I’m starting to wonder.”
I reached down and eased her bikini bottoms off of her, and put the suntan lotion on her pretty pale cheeks.
“God, this is disturbing,” she said. “My name on your list, a goal of yours you’ve thought about for years. If you’d asked me a week ago if it would ever have happened, I would have laughed. And now the dream is yours, if you want.”
I was lotioning her legs. “What do you think? Do I want it?”
She shivered. “I can’t imagine wanting anything that much. And to think that I’m the object of that desire. Jesus, I don’t know what to think.”
“Does it make you think about the power of written goals?”
“And then some. How many of your goals have you achieved?”
“Hundreds. Every month I knock off more of the short ones. You would be the first top tier goal or reach goal. I think I might retire after that. No place left to go but down.”
I had her turn over, but she still had her nose buried in my list. “2 Million dollars in 8 years?”
“That one started out 1 million in 10 years. I now know that’s two easy. Pretty soon I’ll probably make 2.5 million.”
“Create something that makes the front page of the newspaper?”
“Pretty cool, huh?”