Every summer he returns to look after the house and garden of the Mancini family, who fly to Asia every year at the same time for two months. Early on he looked after their daughter Luna when he went to school himself and Luna was too young to be alone. The Mancini’s trust Lorenzo, they know him for an eternity and like to remember him jumping naked through the lawn sprinklers as a small child and yelling in high spirits. He is family. Meanwhile Lorenzo is an experienced man, but he has never lost his mischievous smile. An old soul rests in him, as they say, he devours historical works in every free second and tries to interpret the psyche of the people. He studies philosophy in Rome, his parents have not lived in the small village for a long time, yet every summer he goes to the neighbors’ house to help out and draw energy. Then he water the flowers, clean the pool, mow the lawn and keep the property clean. In gratitude, he is allowed to stay there and receives generous pocket money. Lorenzo lives in seclusion, writes stories and loves to listen to nature. Although he is still very young, moments of silence interest him much more than exuberant party adventures.
He fishes the old leaves out of the pool when he discovers a beetle on a leaf. This beetle flickers in the sunlight in shimmering colors, almost like the mood ring his girlfriend gave him back then. He hasn’t seen Ana for five years, the ring hasn’t changed colour since, it’s always dark grey. He takes the beetle and places it at the edge of the swimming pool. He lets it run and joyfully observes how he changes color in the light. Lorenzo looks at his arms, his skin is already completely dried out by the heat. He decides to go into the house and write a new story.
His desk is placed right next to the window to keep track of things and to get inspiration. Looking at the fairytale garden with its azure blue swimming pool, he feels melancholy, a pleasant shower overcomes him. On this hot day he thinks of Isabelle again, whom he has integrated into his real life for quite some time. Isabelle is a fantasy figure who likes to seduce him. In his story he always plays a different person, but Isabelle never changes. He looks at his hands, he looks at his laptop, then outside, he looks at the gentle wave movements of the azure blue swimming pool. The trees are increasingly losing their leaves, which the wind gently blows onto the freshly cleaned water surface.
Lorenzo’s gaze darkens and for a moment he thinks about getting up, but then he sees Isabelle walking through the garden in a bikini and sitting at the edge of the pool. She dips her fingers into the water and moistens her slender arms. Isabelle sees the beetle and lets it run over her shoulders, while she shrugs and shrieks happily at the same time, then she puts the beetle back. She looks up at the window and smiles at Lorenzo. She opens her bikini top in front of him and takes off her panties. Then she turns around and jumps headfirst into the ice-cold water. Lorenzo is frozen at the sight of the divine Isabelle, who obviously wants to flirt with him again.
Lorenzo hammers wildly on the keys of his laptop. In his story he stands at the edge of the pool and watches Isabelle. She swims to him and smiles at him. Lorenzo looks into deep brown eyes full of promises. He sits down at the edge of the pool and Isabelle joins in. At this moment he sees drops of water gently rolling off her skin, her long wet hair, her stiff nipples wrapped in goose bumps. He looks at her well-formed breasts, the dark pubic hair in her lap. Isabelle shamefully lowers her head as she sees Lorenzo examinating her, inspecting and reacting to every single part of her body. She notices Lorenzo’s excitement with his shorts as the texture of his pants slowly shifts upwards. She strokes his pants with her wet fingers, massages his cock and looks into his hopeful, big eyes. Lorenzo takes off his shirt. Isabelle caresses Lorenzo’s dry areas between his shoulder blades, he has burned himself and now small white skin flakes fall off, yet his skin is so flawless, full of youth. Isabelle takes her time to look at his body, his slender arms, his well-formed thighs, the few dark hairs on his chest, perfect, she thinks, this is what perfect beauty looks like.
Isabelle glides gently into the pool, takes Lorenzo’s hands and pulls him into the water in his pants. They’re facing each other. Isabelle moistening his shoulders, kisses his neck. She feels the wet texture and his aroused penis on her hip bone. She likes that feeling and rubs herself against it. With her fingers she continues to feel his skin, with gentle movements she circles around his cock and looks deep into his eyes. Lorenzo can hardly pull himself together, Isabelle knows what he likes and she turns him on so incredibly, with her sensual mouth, how she licks her lips gently, how she looks at him, how her body writhes with excitement. He reaches between her legs, the waves play around their wet sexes, the water caresses their heated bodies. He opens her labia to feel her true lust. He penetrates her with two fingers. Isabelle throws her head back in her neck and moans very quietly.
Arm in arm they float to the edge of the pool. Lorenzo lifts Isabelle up and puts her on the edge. He spreads her legs wide and licks her pussy. The taste of chlorine and moist sweetness combines to an aphrodisiac mixture. He licks the drops of water on her inner thighs, he kisses her wet pubic hair, he penetrates deep into her with his tongue while he plays around her clitoris with his fingers. Isabelle can no longer hold her own. She comes fast and hard, she tries to push Lorenzo’s head away. He frees himself from the water and overwhelms her. He passionately pushes his pulsing cock into her. He watches the shimmering beetle running over Isabelle’s fingertips. He comes vigorously with all the visual perceptions and thoughts that exist only in his head.
Lorenzo sits in front of his laptop, his pants are at his feet and sperm runs over his dry fingertips. He looks out into the garden, the trees, the freshly cleaned swimming pool. He opens the drawer from his desk and looks at the mood ring of his friend Ana, Ana, whom he hasn’t seen for so long. Lorenzo is taking a closer look at the ring. In his sperm-covered hands, it almost looks like the ring is changing color, it’s still dark gray, but he thinks he can see some lighter nuances at this moment.