She looked herself over one final time in the bedroom mirror. She looked good. She hoped she would look good to her 19-year-old pool cleaner. It was time for the fantasy -- an innocent fantasy, just a little showing off, but still a fantasy -- to start.

"Let the show begin," Lisa said to herself, amid the cavernous quiet of her immaculate house.

At 11 a.m. sharp, Lisa heard a car out front pulling into her driveway. A car door opened and closed with a clunk.

Her pool boy had returned.

She clopped to the backdoor window in her cork high-heels and skimpy outfit, giddy with excitement. Before doing anything...