Chip Taylor | 68 Kill Oneshots

Saltwater (NSFW 18+)

Summary: You take a liking to the community landscaper and decide its high time  to act out the pool boy fantasy you've always dreamed of.
Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)
Content Warning: Fingering, Oral (female receiving), penetrative sex,unprotected sex

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The Summer was in full swing. The sun beat down on the freakishly green, perfectly manicured lawns of my parents' wealthy subdivision. It'd been years since I lived here in any permanent kind of way, but lately my visits had been more frequent and for longer periods of time.

I told my parents it was because I missed them, and for some reason they believed that excuse, even though half the time I came when they weren't even around.

Don't get me wrong — I did miss a lot about living under the auspices of their money and power. But at the same time, I wanted to start my own life; a life that wasn't so superficial, so fake, so... boring.

They'd call it teenage rebellion despite my being well into my mid-twenties. They'd call it brainwashing from the liberal higher education system, and I'd ignore the fact that the theory made no sense.

It didn't matter why I sought after things that were clearly no good for me because I wanted it. I wanted the simplicity and unbridled joy of freedom and fun. I didn't want manners and the modern arranged marriage. I wanted a man who didn't know (or care, for that matter) which side of the plate forks should go on.

A man who did things for no discernible reason. One who did things because he wanted to and because they wouldn't hurt anyone. I wanted a friend and a partner in life, not in business.

Someone sort of like Chip Taylor.

I don't know how it was he didn't hear me as he dragged the pool skimmer over the water's edge, but I was glad he didn't. It granted me a few extra moments of watching him in those rare times he thought no one was watching.

He was a pretty paranoid person, but I understood why. He didn't exactly fit in, so if anything were to go wrong, he'd be an easy one to put the blame on. Then again, the ladies on the block were so fond of him, I'm pretty sure they'd let him get away with murder.

There was just this way about him; the way he looked at you. It's like he saw something in people that we couldn't see ourselves. I would trust his instincts about a person more than my own. In a way, I almost treated him like a bloodhound for the morally destitute.

We were friends... I think. He'd been working for the subdivision for at least three years doing landscape and other odd jobs. Whether by chance or design, he always saved my parent's house for last in his daily routine. I liked to believe it was the latter. Because whenever I was here, which was much less often lately, the two of us would spend some time talking.

His stories were always strange. They were purposefully vague or only partially disclosed. I never pushed him for more; I figured he just wanted to remain mysterious. But even if he wasn't, I don't think I'd like him any less. Because just as he could look at people and see everything evil in them, I saw something remarkably good in Chip.

There was a warmth about him, and an admiration that was so obvious in his eyes. I hated to sound cocky, but I just never felt more beautiful than when he looked at me. Maybe I was just selfish in wanting to be around him, but I couldn't help myself.

It wasn't until he had tossed the skimmer back into the shed and got down on his knees to clean the filter that I emerged from under the shade of the porch.

"Hey Chip!" I happily chirped, tossing my bags onto the pool chair closest to me.

His entire body jumped at the sound, and once he looked up, the words caught in his throat. It took a second for his eyes to find their way to mine, stuck slowly taking in the image of me stripping my cover-up to reveal my bathing suit underneath.