Caught Skinny-Dipping by the Night Guard’s MILF

I’m Wesley, nineteen years old and stuck housesitting my rich uncle’s sprawling lakeside estate for the whole damn summer while he’s off in Europe. The place is secluded as hell—private cove, endless trees, no neighbors for miles—and the humidity that night was thick enough to drink. I’d been restless all week, jerking off in the big empty bedrooms to whatever filthy clips I could pull up on my phone, but it wasn’t enough. Around midnight I peeled out of my clothes on the wooden dock, skin sticky with sweat, and slipped into the black water of the private cove naked as the day I was born.

The moon hung fat and white overhead, painting everything silver. I floated on my back first, cock bobbing lazy in the cool water, then rolled over and started swimming slow laps just to feel the glide of it against my skin. My uncle had hired night-shift security for the property—some local firm—so I figured I was alone. Stupid. I was mid-stroke, water sluicing off my shoulders, when a bright beam of flashlight cut across the surface and pinned me like a deer.

“Well, well. Look what we have here.”

The voice was low, husky, pure smoke and amusement. I froze, treading water, heart slamming as the light dipped and I saw her standing at the edge of the dock. Harriet. Forty-two, the night guard I’d only glimpsed a couple times from a distance. Voluptuous didn’t begin to cover it. Tight navy uniform shirt strained over heavy tits, sleeves rolled to the elbows, utility belt cinched around a thick waist that flared into wide hips and powerful thighs wrapped in dark trousers. Brunette hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, a few loose strands sticking to her neck in the heat. Confident as sin, flashlight in one hand, the other resting on her hip like she owned the whole fucking lake.

I was fully naked, cock half-hard from the swim and the sudden rush of being caught, water lapping at my chest. No point covering up; the moon gave her everything.