The House Of Robles Ch. 06

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Chapter Six

Getting Naughty At The Pool Party

Any other guy would have been having the time of his life, Frankie Robles glumly thought to himself. The young man sure didn’t feel twenty-two years old that afternoon. No, he felt more like he was fifty-two years old, or maybe even eighty-two. Inwardly sighing to himself, he tilted his head down a little, in order to sneak a peek over the top of his dark, aviator style sunglasses. Frankie’s gaze shifted over to the apartment complex’s rounded swimming pool.

It was a typical, warm Southern California day, with a gentle breeze swelling across the landscape. Three beautiful and scantily clad women were playing in the pool. They were splashing and sloshing about so much that their wild antics occasionally sent a torrent of cool water crashing down near him on the low lying deck chair. Normally, having three beautiful women jumping around in their bikinis might have been a cause for a minor celebration, but not so this time. On this day, unfortunately, all three of the bouncing honeys were either related to him or married to him.

First, there was his pretty wife, Carmela. She was lean and trim at twenty-three years of age, and sported a red two-piece bikini. Her bikini blended nicely with her tanned bronze skin. Possessing fully rounded C cups, Carmela had the largest breasts of the trio of babes prancing around in the water. Her ass, after having spent countless hours jogging on a fitness center treadmill, was incredibly shapely and tight enough to crack walnuts.

Next, came his equally attractive sister Melinda. She was a full year younger than Frankie, and wore the usual tiny black thong she displayed on such public outings. Her B cups were barely kept in check by the small triangular patches of fabric strung across her chest, and her naturally thick hips gave way to big and meaty butt cheeks. Every so often, she’d absently reach into the deep cleft of her ass and tug that stubborn, stringy thong out.

The last of the shapely females was Frankie’s youngest sister Amanda. Recently, she had turned eighteen and was blessed with a magnificent figure all her own. Her bikini was a simple white two-piece, cut a little more generously than the other two women’s outfits. Regardless of this prudence, her perky B cups and pleasing rump were just as much on display as the rest. Amanda was also the most hesitant participant of the three, Frankie noticed. She’d frequently taken to wading over in the shallow end of the pool whenever any of the neighborhood lechers got too close.

Of course, such an unparalleled display of female flesh was bound to bring the dogs out; this time they’d arrived in kennels. The apartment complex was veritably teeming with horny men. The younger, shapelier ones had wasted little time in donning their own swimming trunks and diving right into the pool. The older perverts had probably feigned some excuse or other to their wives in order to step out and leer from their tiny balconies or patios. No less than six virile studs (the day’s record was set earlier at eight) were presently in the water thrashing and crashing about for any sort of attention from the trio of pretty girls.

Admittedly, his voluptuous sister Melinda was basking and even thriving in the male attention. This behavior hadn’t been totally unexpected, not from her. Frankie knew what his sister did for a living; she was a professional stripper.

What was disconcerting, on the other hand, was the fact that his wife had apparently forgotten that Frankie was part of the audience. From his viewpoint, Carmela was taking great pains to steal some of the limelight away from his curvy sister. For example, when the girls were playing volleyball earlier, Carmela was spiking the ball extra hard in Melinda’s direction. Obviously, his wife was trying to show up his sister. Whenever she succeeded, Carmela openly gloated about it. Later, a playful wrestling match between the sexy pair threatened to turn ugly, until several pairs of eager male hands reached out to grope the two women apart.

The final straw occurred when one of Melinda’s breasts slipped out from its flimsy protection. Of course, Melinda made a vain, public show of harnessing and reigning in her valuable asset. At this point, it seemed inevitable that the increasingly jealous Mount Carmela would erupt. In his wife’s enviously surpassing fashion, she did. Less than five minutes after Melinda’s mishap, and much to the enjoyment of the throng of horny male spectators, Carmela retaliated by losing her entire top. It was discovered shortly, floating near the bottom of the pool, and resulted in a piranha-like frenzy as several of the guys set out to rescue it.

Now, one of the things Frankie admired most regarding his wife was her competitive drive and ambition. Carmela had landed herself a great job with great pay, drove a brand new SUV, wore very stylish clothes and had leased an apartment in one of the nicer parts of town. That much was fine with Frankie, except for the mounting credit card bills she kept racking up in order to keep abreast of the latest canlı bahis fashion trends. So, while Frankie felt he had to tolerate some horseplay in their marriage, how could Carmela rationalize losing her bikini top while in a swimming pool full of horny guys?

Irritated, Frankie knew he had only two options. One, he could start a huge and very public argument right then and there. Such a fight was likely to spill over into the rest of the afternoon, and probably into the next few days as well. Or two, he could quietly retreat into Melinda’s apartment and ignore the whole thing. Frankie mulled this over for an extra long minute, before he finally decided to throw in the towel and leave.

After snatching up the remote control and flopping onto Melinda’s posh couch, he searched through the TV channels until he found a good ball game. That would help put him out of his misery, he thought, but he only caught a grand total of two pitches before a skeptical manager came out and called in for a reliever. All Frankie was left with was a lengthy commercial break full of light beer and overpriced trucks. Well, that figures, he thought resentfully.

Impatiently, he waited until the game finally started up again. Being the sports fanatic that he was, he soon became absorbed in the on-field action. A couple of innings later, Frankie heard Melinda’s voice approaching the open front door. Close behind her, one of the many horn-dogs outside was already urging her to hurry back.

Melinda stepped inside, pulling her wet hair back and wringing some of the clingy water from it. “Don’t you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Your phone, you dummy.” Melinda rolled her eyes at him. “I can hear it all the way outside.”

The ringing crept into focus.

“That’s Carmela’s phone.” Frankie grumbled.

“Well, are you going to answer it?” Melinda asked, right before she strode towards the kitchen counter where the phone was crying out for attention. “Hello?” She paused to listen. “Oh, yeah, she’s right outside. Let me go grab her.” Melinda stalked past. “Hey, Frankie. You’re a lazy fucking bum, you know that?”

Meh, Frankie thought, and almost turned his attention back to the ball game. Before he did, though, he caught a glimpse of Melinda’s big butt stepping outside, and of the black string of thong hiding out in the middle of it. If Melinda hadn’t been his sister, he sure wouldn’t have minded going to one of her strip shows.

“Carmela, you’ve got a phone call!” Melinda’s loud voice called out.

Back on the screen, Frankie noticed that a good base stealer had managed to coax a walk. With the score being tight, the pitcher started paying close attention to first base. The baseball was lobbed over to first in an attempt to keep the runner honest.

In the back of his mind, Frankie could hear his wife stepping inside the apartment while she was still on the phone. Since Carmela was droning on and on, Frankie did what he usually did at home. This was to block his wife’s voice out completely and concentrate instead on the ball game.

It wasn’t until she stepped between him and the TV that he lost focus. “Frankie! I’m talking to you!”

“What?”

“I just asked you if you’ve seen my purse!” She sounded frantic.

Frankie shrugged his shoulders. “Isn’t it on the counter where you left it?”

“No!” She snapped back as she hurried toward the hallway where the bathroom was.

He noticed she had her street clothes in her arms. “What’s going on?”

“I was scheduled to show a suite to this guy yesterday.” Carmela explained. “But his flight got delayed and he couldn’t make the appointment.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, so?” Carmela made a face. “He’s in town now, and he wants me to show him the suite!”

“On a Saturday?”

“Do you have any idea what kind of commission I could get?” Carmela disappeared down the hallway. A few minutes later, she returned fully clothed. “Are you sure you haven’t seen my purse?” She turned her head toward the front door. “Melinda, have you seen my purse?”

“Wasn’t it on the counter?” Melinda stepped inside again.

“Not anymore!” Carmela looked ready to scream. “I have to go home right away and change into a business suit. The client wants to meet me in less than an hour! Frankie, do you have your keys on you?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t drive here, remember? You did.”

“I know that, you asshole!” Carmela slammed him. “But I can use your keys to get into the apartment, can’t I?”

As soon as Frankie held out his key ring, Carmela snatched it out of his hand.

“Melinda, I really, really need to make this appointment.” Carmela pleaded. “If I can get this client to sign my lease, I’ll have some major cash waiting for me later. I’ll give you fifty bucks if you drive me to my apartment!”

“Fifty bucks?”

“Yes! Come on, I don’t want to miss this appointment!”

“Give me a minute to throw something on.” Melinda streaked across his field of vision. Apparently, she’d been standing in the doorway and drying herself off with a beach towel, as her damp towel bahis siteleri fell on the coffee table a moment later.

Carmela looked back at Frankie. “I’m going to be gone a couple of hours. See if you can find my purse. You can use my keys to drive yourself home in my car and make yourself something to eat.” She was frowning as she said this, since she didn’t like Frankie behind the wheel of her showy, new vehicle. “And be extra careful with my baby!”

“I’m going to drive it into the first ditch I see.” Frankie smirked.

“Don’t you dare!” Carmela replied, only half-joking, and just as Melinda came strutting back. “I’ll see you later, Frankie. Wish me luck!”

The two shapely women bounded out of sight. As far as Frankie was concerned, out of sight meant out of mind. Now, he could get back to the ball game.

Alas, this was not to be. Not even five minutes later, Frankie heard somebody else’s footsteps approaching the front door. He turned to look outside just as his little sister was stepping in. Amanda didn’t look too happy.

“What the hell just happened?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m right there in the middle of the pool surrounded by all these perverts, and then Melinda and Carmela run by fully dressed. All they can say is ‘see you later’! And then, poof, they’re both gone!” Noticing the moist towel on the coffee table, she grabbed it and started drying off her arms and shoulders. “I can’t believe they left me in the water by myself! What a pair of hookers!”

Frankie couldn’t help but chuckle.

Angrily, Amanda hurled the balled up towel at him, before she stormed off towards the single bathroom.

Amanda’s butt wasn’t as big as Melinda’s, Frankie compared as she strode past him. It wasn’t as tight as Carmela’s either, but it did have its own particular charm to it. He’d smack it, he thought.

Frankie glanced toward the front door, which was still wide open. Better close that up, he said to himself, before any of the sexual predators loitering outside walked over and tried to invite their selves in. Once he’d shut the door, Frankie recalled the prickly predicament he’d have to deal with when the time came to go home. A few minutes later, he walked over and knocked on the bathroom door.

“Hey, Amanda, did you see where Carmela’s purse went?”

“What?” Came a garbled reply from the steady stream of running water.

“Do you know what happened to Carmela’s purse?” Frankie repeated.

“I put it under the sink!”

“Why did you do that?” Frankie called out.

The shower suddenly shut off, and Amanda’s voice came across that much louder. “Melinda told me to hide it somewhere since the front door was going to be wide open. She didn’t want one of those guys coming inside and stealing it.” As the door swung aside, Amanda stepped out wearing only a towel draped across her chest and middle. “Damn it!”

Frankie had already started back to the living room and the still in progress baseball game. He turned back to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I just remembered that my street clothes are all wet!” Amanda grimaced. “From when you guys tossed me into the pool earlier!”

Frankie smirked. “Well, you did dare us to.”

“I didn’t think you guys would actually do it.” Amanda countered. “What am I going to do? I sure as hell ain’t walking over to the laundry room to dry my clothes, not with all those assholes still hanging around outside.” She did an about-face and defiantly strode into their sister’s bedroom. “I’m going to borrow some of Melinda’s clothes. When she comes back, I’m going to make her dry my stuff!”

Frankie groaned when he returned to the living room and saw another stupid commercial break on the screen. How was he ever going to watch the ballgame with all those interruptions?

Sure enough, the game had been on for about a minute, when Amanda stepped back into view. She was wearing an oversized tee shirt that went all the way down to her knees, with a fuzzy pink teddy bear displayed on the front. Following some kind of latent womanly instinct, Amanda walked around the TV and grimaced at what was happening on the screen. “Don’t tell me you’re going to watch a dumb baseball game! Come on, they’re showing MMA on the other sports network right now!”

It was the Curse Of Carmela, Frankie decided, otherwise known as Murphy’s Law. Just like on those rare occasions when Frankie didn’t have to go to either one of his crappy jobs, and suddenly Carmela decided that he just had to go shopping with her. His wife could be relentless, nagging him and hounding him until he finally gave up and came that close to breaking his remote control in half. All so Carmela could lollygag at the perfume counter of some department store at the mall, or try on a dozen skirts. Even worse, she sometimes couldn’t make up her mind on what clothes she wanted and ended up buying half the store. Somehow, his wife had cast her dreaded Curse on him without even being present.

He wasn’t going to win, Frankie decided, clicking on the correct channel to humor his sister. As soon as he did, Amanda stepped bahis şirketleri out of the living room and into the small kitchen, so she wasn’t even watching the fucking TV after all. Well, that figures, Frankie thought in mounting irritation.

“There aren’t any chips left!” Amanda cried out. A moment later, he could hear cabinets being opened and shut. “I found some popcorn. You want some?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

A couple of minutes later, Amanda set a steamy, overfilled bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. She munched down a handful of popped kernels, casually watching the action on the TV. Two lesser known fighters had just finished up a match. The opponents for the next fight were being announced.

Amanda’s eyes lit up as one of the brawny fighters started his walk toward the ring, accompanied by the heavy beats of his entrance music. “Oooh, this is going to be a good fight!” She lay down right in front of the television.

At least Amanda was into some kind of sports, Frankie considered. Unlike his wife, who considered most organized competitions to be as pointless as owning a two-year-old car.

Knowing he might as well forget about the ball game, Frankie listened to the roar of crowd as the second fighter came out with his arms raised high in the air. This is when he began to notice something else as well.

Amanda’s big tee shirt had crept up her legs, unwittingly giving him a glimpse of her fleshy thighs. Possibly, Frankie realized, if he repositioned himself further back on the couch, he could get a peek at her panties, too. Discreetly, Frankie leaned back, watching as more and more of his little sister’s pretty legs came into view. Then he hit the jackpot. She was wearing white cotton underwear, and clearly, he could see the soft curves of her butt.

“Have you seen this guy fight before?” Amanda asked, absently glancing back to address her brother.

Frankie darted his eyes back to the screen.

“Were you just looking at my butt?” Amanda questioned. “You were, weren’t you? You were looking at my butt!”

“No.” Frankie denied. “Why would I do that?”

“You are such a pervert.” His sister admonished him, reaching back to draw the oversized tee shirt all the way down to her knees. “You were staring at my butt just like all those guys at the swimming pool were. My own brother! I can’t believe you, Frankie!”

“No I wasn’t.”

“Then why are you blushing?”

“I’m not blushing.”

“How are you going to say that when I’m looking right at you, and I can see that you’re blushing?”

“I’m not blushing!”

“Okay, whatever.” Amanda disagreed. “Say what you want, but I caught you.”

“Caught me doing what?”

“Staring at my butt.”

“I was not staring at your butt!”

Amanda shifted her attention back to the TV, where the match had already started. She wasn’t done with the embarrassing discussion, however. “I was watching you when we were in the pool outside. I saw you staring at Melinda’s butt too, when I was at the far end of the pool by myself. Don’t even try to deny it, because I watched you do it.”

Frankie was in hot water and he knew it. Maybe, he concluded, he should just keep his big mouth shut, before Amanda started blabbing his guilt to the entire world.

“Where’d they go to anyway, in such a damned hurry?” Amanda suddenly sounded irritated. “What was so important that they had to leave me out there by myself in a… in a pool full of meat-eating sharks?”

Glad that she’d changed the subject, Frankie replied, “Carmela had to show a suite to somebody.”

“You sure she wasn’t going out to mess around with somebody? Your wife seemed pretty frisky out there in the pool.”

“Hey, you were out there, too.” A wounded Frankie retaliated. “And you were surrounded by all the same guys she was!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t loosen up my bikini top so it would fall off a minute later.” Amanda glanced back at him. “I saw her do it. She just reached behind her back and pulled on the little knot. Thirty seconds later and poof, her top was gone.”

Frankie had figured as much, although he hadn’t actually witnessed this.

“She’s such a bitch.” Amanda returned her attention to the screen. “I don’t know how you can stand being married to her. She cheats on you all the time…”

“You don’t know that!”

“Oh, yes I do!” Pensive, Amanda began raising and lowering her legs. Melinda had been trying to pry that same exact secret from her very recently, but Amanda was holding out until somebody offered her something juicy in return. The eighteen year-old chose her next words carefully. “I might even know one of the guys she cheated with.”

“That’s bullshit.” Frankie was starting to sound angry. “You’re making that up!”

Amanda told Melinda that she knew who their father had cheated with. Now, she was telling her brother that she knew who Carmela was cheating with. If Frankie and Melinda ever got together and compared notes, what would stop the two of them from figuring out that it was their own father that had cheated with Carmela? If Amanda’s secret were to remain a secret, she couldn’t keep teasing everybody about it. She decided to change tactics instead. “I’m not going to tell you, anyway. You’re just going to have to figure it out by yourself.”

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