My confession: I seduced the gardener alone at the villa

I have to confess it, even though I still blush when I remember it. I needed to switch off from everything, so my friend Marina lent me the house she has on the coast, a beautiful villa with a garden and a pool, perfect for spending a few quiet days. Before she gave me the keys, she told me just one thing: if I needed any help with the house, I should ask the gardener, who came a couple of times a week and was completely trustworthy, discreet, and helpful. I had no idea how far I was going to put that discretion to the test.

The first day I woke up late, with the sun already high and the sound of the sea in the background. I heard an engine in the garden and leaned out of the bedroom window. And there he was.

He was a tall man, broad-shouldered, with the dark skin of someone who works outdoors. He was shirtless and wearing work shorts, and sweat gleamed on his back as he used the brush cutter. I stayed longer than I should have, watching him from behind the curtain, feeling something slowly ignite inside me.

I didn’t come here for this, I thought. But who says I can’t.

I dug through my suitcase for the yellow bikini, the smallest and boldest one I owned, the one I almost never dared to wear. I put it on, let my hair down, and went down to the garden as if nothing were happening. When he saw me, he couldn’t hide his look of surprise. He swallowed and lowered his gaze for a second before looking up again.

—Good morning —I said, coming closer with a smile—. I’m Marina’s friend. You must be the one who takes care of all this.

I gave him two kisses on the cheeks. He smelled of sun and freshly cut earth. I told him to keep doing his thing, that I was going for a swim in the pool, and I walked away knowing his eyes were following me every step of the way.

I loved getting him hot like that, without even touching him. I got into the water, swam a couple of lengths, and every time I surfaced I looked for him and smiled. He pretended to concentrate on trimming a hedge, but kept turning his head again and again.

—The water’s amazing —I said after a while, leaning on the edge—. Why don’t you take a dip?

—I have to finish this first —he replied, his voice a little hoarse—. But as soon as I’m done, I’d be delighted.

I got out of the pool slowly, letting the water slide over my body, and stretched out on a sun lounger. I told him that when he finished we’d have a beer, or whatever he felt like. He said he was almost done, so I went into the house, prepared two ice-cold beers and something to nibble on.

When I came back, I rubbed sunscreen on myself in front, slowly, noticing how he watched me out of the corner of his eye. Then I asked him, with all the innocence I could fake, to put sunscreen on my back. His hands were big and firm, and he moved them with a tenderness that made goose bumps rise on my skin. I felt his breathing near the nape of my neck and knew he was just as nervous as I was, only far more restrained.

We sat and chatted over our beers, in the shade of a bougainvillea heavy with flowers. He told me it was his day off from his main job and that he took advantage of it to come work in the garden. We talked about the sea, the house, Marina, but neither of us was paying much attention to the words. I moved slowly, crossed and uncrossed my legs, brushed my hair back from my face with a languid gesture. He couldn’t take his eyes off me, and beneath the fabric of his shorts the bulge of an erection was already plain to see.

Every silence between us weighed like a promise. I felt the heat of the sun on my skin and, beneath it, another kind of heat slowly rising from deep in my belly. It had been a long time since a man had looked at me like that, as if I were the only thing in the world.

—Please use tu with me —I said when he started addressing me formally again—. You make me feel old.

He laughed, embarrassed, and nodded. I asked him if he wanted to stay for lunch and spend the day with me, to keep me company. He said it would be a pleasure, and I could tell the word was hard for him to say.

***

Despite the obvious desire, he didn’t dare make a move. He treated me with a respect that was almost exasperating. I understood that if I wanted anything, I was going to have to be the one to break the ice, little by little, without frightening him.

After a while he told me he was going to the back of the garden, where the tools were kept, to shower and put on a swimsuit. I knew the house from previous visits, and I knew perfectly well that from the window of one of the rooms you could see that area. I went upstairs, pretending to be distracted, and leaned out.

I saw him undress from behind, and then turn around. He had a magnificent body, and an erection that the cold water couldn’t bring down no matter how much he tried. I bit my lip watching him, feeling my pulse speed up and my heart hammer in my chest. When he finished drying off and put on his swim trunks, I ran down to the pool area to wait for him, as if I hadn’t seen a thing.

He arrived and I offered him a glass of wine. I told him to go for a swim while I brought it over. As he threw himself into the water I noticed the erection was still there, and I smiled to myself. I prepared the glasses, opened a bottle, put it in an ice bucket, and took some snacks out to the table in the shade.

—I’m going to take off the top —I announced casually—. I don’t want tan lines. If I do it on the beach in front of strangers, I don’t see why I wouldn’t do it here.

I untied my bikini and got into the pool. I swam to the part where the water came up to my waist, just so he could see me properly, and we talked for a while at close range, with that thick tension floating between us. Then I suggested we go out and have the wine. I walked toward the table unhurriedly, knowing he was following me with his eyes, devouring me.

I grabbed the towel, dried myself a little, and poured. We toasted. As I drank, I let a trail of wine run over my chest, and I laughed.

—It’s nice and cold —I said—. Lovely.

I saw his jaw tighten. I told him he should protect himself from the sun too, took the bottle of lotion, and started rubbing sunscreen on his back. I knelt behind him and moved down toward his legs, first the back, then the front, slowly working up to the edge of his swim trunks, and a little beyond. I could feel his ragged breathing beneath my fingers.

—Relax —I whispered—. Enjoy it.

I stood up and, always from behind, rubbed sunscreen on his shoulders and chest, pressing myself against his back, brushing him with my hardened nipples. I had him completely surrendered. I slid my hands over his stomach, slowly, until I slipped them inside his swim trunks and began to stroke him. He let out a deep sigh and threw his head back, resting it on my shoulder.

I turned him toward me. I took a glass, brought it to my mouth, and tilted it on purpose so the wine spilled over my chest. I drew him in and we kissed at last, a long, hungry kiss, held back for hours. Then I offered him my wine-soaked skin, and he licked it with a desire that made me shiver, while he held me by the hips and slid his hand inside my thong.

—Wait —I said, gently moving him away—. We have all day.

Then it was me who poured the wine over his chest and abdomen. I bent to lick it, tracing him with my tongue, slowly making my way down until I knelt in front of him. I pulled down his swim trunks slowly and began to kiss and lick all around him, teasing, prolonging the wait, until at last I took him into my mouth.

At that point I wasn’t thinking about anything else. I tasted him with a surrender I hadn’t felt in a long time. With one hand I stroked him underneath, and with the other I gripped his thigh, moving up and down in a slow rhythm that drove him crazy. He tangled his fingers in my hair, not forcing me, just guiding me, and his breathing grew faster and faster.

I sped up too. I felt him tense all over, hold his breath for a second, and then he came, with an intensity that surprised me myself. I held on until the end, not letting go, and when I finally pulled away I realized I had come too, without him even touching me, just from the excitement of having him like that, yielding.

I straightened up slowly, my heart still pounding wildly. There was a final sip of wine left in my glass. I looked at him, smiled, and drank it, savoring that moment I had no intention of forgetting.

***

We spent the rest of the day laughing, swimming, and touching each other, without hurry, as if we had known one another all our lives. In the afternoon we ate in the shade, our feet still wet, and as the sun went down we went into the house together.

I’m not going to tell you everything that came after. Some things I’d rather keep to myself. I’ll only say that those days alone in Marina’s villa became the memory I bring out whenever I need to smile inside. I came here to switch off, and I switched off from everything I thought I knew about myself. Sometimes desire appears where you least expect it, and all it takes is daring to take the first step.