When I came home from college for Spring Break, I was looking to make a little spending money before heading back to campus. With the fantastic weather, I knew my neighbors would be wanting to get their pools ready. I went next door to Mr. Abraham’s home and knocked on his door.
“Greetings. The college girl returns home! Hope you didn’t get expelled for running around like that.”
I laughed. By campus standards, I was overdressed. I wore my little short shorts and an oversized tank top. If he only knew our Campus Code of Conduct. I would be in trouble for sure for wearing this outfit. But not as he might think. On campus, I’d be wearing just the tank top. I wouldn’t even dream of wearing the short shorts. Inspectors would have me pulling them off around every corner of campus to ensure I wasn’t hiding a pubic hair bush counting as a bottom underneath my short shorts.
I asked him, “I’m looking to earn a bit of money this week, and I was wondering if you wanted help getting your pool ready for the season.” We negotiated a fair price. He wanted to pay too much, and I insisted on taking less. I reminded him, “When I come home for the summer, I’ll probably be coming over to use your pool more than you.” He agreed, but warned me, if I did too good of a job, he might force me to take a well earned tip. If only all pay debates were like this.
He invited me inside to go through the house to the backyard. I clearly came at the precise moment necessary. He had cleaning supplies and the garden hose out on the patio. He told me to get started scrubbing the pool walls, and he would work on the pump.
The one thing about the Abraham’s pool was how deep it was. It was where I learned to dive and do flips. The spring board had been removed after his kids grew up and moved out, but he still allowed me to swim and layout for the last couple of summers. I laughed about to myself. If I was smart, I would get an all-over tan this summer. Last year, my deep tanlines were nothing but problems. Inspectors constantly mistook the tanlines for undergarments any time I wore something sheer. I was stripped all the time until my tan faded, well blended, as I was nude sunbathing in the Common Grounds, desperate to rid myself of tanlines. What a blessing Winter was, and my tanlines were gone.
I didn’t think twice about getting started. I turned on the garden hose and lowered it into the pool. I grabbed the bucket with brushes and cleaner and climbed down the pool ladder. From the bottom rung, I balanced the bucket on my foot as I stretched to reach the bottom of the pool. It was just a bit further than me. I kicked off the bucket, and jumped down.
The pool walls and floor had that winter grime, and I got to scrubbing. Mr Abraham came out and handed me down the long brush handle. He had to run to the store to get something for the pool pump. I told him, “I’ll be here when you get back!”
I was there there. You see, I actually finished the scrubbing, but realized I was stuck in the pool. I couldn’t reach the pool ladder rung. My shoes could get a grip to let me run up the side either. I was just a couple of inches too short. I had no idea when he would return. He said a few minutes, but it was hours. My folks were at the country club, and the other neighbors were playing load music and working on loud motorbikes. I was stuck.
I finally had an idea. I would run up the side by the ladder. Knowing I could reach the ladder by my hand, I might be able to loop my shirt over the rung. Then I could reach the ends of my shirt and pull myself up to the ladder. Getting topless was not even something I debated. At campus, I might have gone naked to clean the pool. At least here, I had something to wear, and it would provide me my escape.
My plan worked! just as I struggled to climbed out, Mr. Abraham returned. Oops! I stood there in just my short shorts. He smiled and said, “Seems you’ve forgotten something.” I quickly bent over to retrieve my shirt. Wet and stretched out, I fumbled with it to put it back on. He stopped me short. “I meant the cleaning supplies.” Oh yeah. Forgot them. With him here, I hurried back down the ladder and jumped to the bottom. I gathered the supplies, and handed him the long brush, then used the hose to secure the bucket and other supplies. He pulled the bucket up, and we laughed. I was in the same pickle as before, but this time topless without my shirt on the ladder to grab. He didn’t say a word. He disappeared, and when he returned, he had a ladder to lower down to me. As I climbed out, he told me, “I’ve been down there myself. Last one trapped was Allen. We learned to put the ladder in first. You should, too.”
He liked the work I did, and he did make me take the large tip he promised. If not for the cleaning job, then for the show. I blushed and thanked him. I grabbed my shirt to scamper back to my house next door. After a good shower, I stepped out with just a towel around my hair hearing the house phone ringing. Wow! I hadn’t heard that ring in quite some time. I wasn’t even sure why mom and dad still had the landline. I dashed to their master bedroom to locate the phone.
“Mrs. Downing? Why yes, I’d love to clean your pool tomorrow.” Seems Mr. Abraham’s delay in return home was chatting with her, and the subject of me starting a pool cleaning service. At least her pool has a shallow end.
Well word spread nicely, and each day, I scrubbed another pool in the neighborhood. At some homes, their teenage boys suddenly offered to help seeing me arrive in my shorts and tank top. Sure, they were going to get peeks of an older woman, ha! I got them doing most of the hard work trying to impress me. Seemed natural to use the garden hose for a water fight. My tank top was a top in name only once soaking wet. I was making good money in tips, especially when the fathers paid.
While other students returned to campus sporting gorgeous tans and stories of Spring Break on the beaches, I had cash and a farmer’s tan.
By the end of the semester, my tan was even. I was heading home wondering if I could maintain my all-over tan during the summer months. Well, seems my services as a pool cleaner were still in demand. Mr Abraham had me cleaning the pool the day after I got home. I wore a bikini wondering if he would leave me alone for me to get a better tan without tanlines. No luck. Mrs. Downings was the same. The rest were all lined up for skimming the leaves and bugs, and easy cleaning of the walls and floor of dirt.
Everyone asked I make a weekly visit to keep their pools looking sharp. It was easy money, and I enjoyed the work. I was still worried about tanlines.
The next week proved to be the huge turning point for me. Mr Abraham was out of town. I had his pool to myself. My bikini lasted two minutes before I removed it. I thought I was safe. Nope! Mrs. Downings came over. She needed her pool cleaned early since they were hosting a party the next day. She caught me naked poolside.
She just smiled. I stared across the pool to where I dropped my bikini. Oops!
She asked, “Can you come over real early tomorrow to clean the pool?” i agreed. She then turned around, and said, “Up to you when to start, but I might suggest taking time to put on your swimsuit before coming over.”
Unfortunately, I slept in a bit. So, rather than dealing with my bikini, I grabbed my short shorts and a tank top. I hurried over to the Downings’ house. I was earlier than she expected. She insisted I eat breakfast with them. Once I got started on the pool, I spotted some things on the bottom of the pool. Looked like stuff from the patio. With them all getting the place ready for the party and the pool my responsibility. I just jumped into the water to retrieve the items. When I emerged, the tank top was soaking wet. What wasn’t sheer when wet was stretched. Yeah, my breast was hanging out as I gathered the stray objects to put somewhere. And yes, it seemed everyone in the house stopped what they were doing to stare out of a window. I got a nice tip, too.
Well, getting caught naked by Mrs. Downings was likely enough for the entire neighborhood to hear, but giving them a wet tee shirt show, well, everyone had heard by the next day. When I did the pools of the families with the teenage boys, I was asked, “Will you be going naked or wearing a wet tee shirt?”
I tried to laugh it off. “Which do you prefer?” They took my joke literally. They decided I probably shouldn’t go totally naked and tease their boys, but wearing just a tank top would allow me my personal freedom. One mother said, “I want my boys to learn how to deal with a modern woman and not behave like fools. I really appreciate you doing this. Maybe next week, without the clothes. These boys need to learn manners, and the sooner the better.”
I was dumbstruck. She wanted me to flash and tease her boys. She wanted them to learn to respect a woman with or without clothing. I was drawn to the challenge. I spent the rest of the week wearing just a tank top, and at some pools, not even that.
Honestly, I didn’t think about when Mr. Abraham returned. I was poolside naked when he arrived. Not even a top handy. I walked over naked.
I decided I better tell my parents before the rumors and stories reached them. Parents. How do they know these things? When I told them, they said, “At least you’ll be ready to go back to campus and deal with their dress code better.” Apparently, they knew all along, but they never said a word to me. They were proud I handled it without complaining.
Here’s the thing with working naked with an audience. I loved it!
The boys were at first just gawking, but they did learn being polite, not crude would get them better views.
Not just did they learn how to treat a woman, clothed or not, but they also learned that working was not a dreadful thing. The only problem with teaching them how to clean their pool was that I knew I’d eventually put myself out of business with their parents.
No longer employed to clean their pool, I was invited over many times to enjoy a cookout. When I go back to college, I’m already thinking about applying for a job at the Rec Center to clean the pool. Huge Olympic size pool, but I think the chance to work naked at the pool will be fun, and help me deal with the dress code… likely the undress code.