A few months ago when my dad was trying to make my mom jealous, he hired a drop-dead gorgeous cleaning lady to come by only when my mom would need to come by his house for something. My parents are divorced, though I’m pretty sure deep down they still love each other … they just have a weird way of showing it. I live with dad. In reality, I have the whole house to myself most of the time since he’s a workaholic who often falls asleep at the office.
The cleaning lady’s name is Brenda, and she has done an amazing job of keeping our bachelor pad spotless. (My dad and I are notoriously messy, something my mom likes to bring up often.) Recently, dad has moved on to other evil-mastermind plans to make my mom jealous and somehow win her back, but I convinced him to have Brenda continue visiting once a week. Just not when mom’s here.
Now, I admire Brenda for a few reasons. As I already mentioned, she is stunning in an understated sort of way. She doesn’t wear a whole lot of makeup on the job, but she honestly wouldn’t need to anyway … she has full lips, long eyelashes, and a nice tan. Natural blond hair. She’s probably in her late thirties but she could easily pass for late twenties.
I’m not normally a “uniforms turn me on” kind of guy, but I’ve made an exception for Brenda. Every week she shows up in a light blue button-down blouse with the cleaning company’s logo on it and a pair of well-fitted-yet-practical khaki shorts. I know, this doesn’t exactly sound sexy, but the clothes hug her big breasts and perfect ass in a way that puts a French maid outfit to shame. Whenever she bends over to sweep or stretches to dust a corner, I marvel at how the seams on her clothes don’t burst and reveal whatever she’s wearing underneath.
(One time while I was walking down the hall to use the bathroom, Brenda was on her hands and knees in the bathroom trying to clean between all the tiles in our walk-in shower. She was facing away from me and I saw a bit of black lace peeking above the top of her khakis, an inch below what appeared to be a bikini tan line and just a few inches above her firm, round ass. You could bet that minutes after she left, I was jerking off in that very shower and imagining she was on her knees in front of me.)
So yes, I like to admire Brenda physically. But I also respect her hustle. She owns her cleaning business, and I can tell she enjoys what she does. She mentioned offhand one time that she has a kid, a son, and she wants him to be proud of her success. So I support her however I can.
She called me her “number one customer” after I left a glowing five-star review for her online, and I tip her out of my own money since my dad is cheap and only pays her basic rate. We chat while she cleans if I am in the room, and I always genuinely thank her before she leaves. Sexual attraction aside, I like Brenda a lot and I want good things for her.
Which is why I am completely blown away by what happened the other day.
I was sitting on the couch and browsing Reddit on my phone while Brenda was doing her weekly dusting routine. “People your age are always on your phones,” she said with a laugh. “Shouldn’t you be out with friends or hooking up with the girl across the street?” I felt my cheeks blush a bit. I had confessed to her a week or so ago that I liked my neighbor who was also home from college for the summer. I’d admitted I was too nervous to make a move just yet. (If I’m being honest, this girl is way out of my league. She’s a 9 and I’m a 7 on a good day.)
“I’m working up the courage, Brenda!” I replied with a smile. “Focus on your own love life and I’ll work on mine haha.” She turned around with a dramatic pained expression. “Ugh, let’s not get started on my love life. I don’t have time for any romance with how many clients I have now. It’s a miracle if I fall in bed when I get home at night and even have the energy to … “
Her sentence trailed off like she realized she was about to say something unprofessional in front of a customer and she had caught herself. My brain immediately filled in her blank with “touch myself.” I quickly tried to fill the silence before it became awkward. “Nonsense, Brenda! You’re awesome, and any guy would be lucky to be with you. You have to make time for that stuff.”
Brenda stopped dusting for a moment like I’d said something that she had desperately wanted to hear. She turned around and looked me up and down on the couch while I pretended to be focused on the Reddit livestream on my screen. (Someone was playing retro video game theme music on a xylophone while wearing a Mario outfit. Upvote.)
But did I just see her bite her lip out of the corner of my eye?
Brenda turned around and kept dusting. “You’re right. I just … I just wish I had more hours in the day,” she said with a sigh. “It’s not easy running your own business. Sometimes I wish I could … you know, get off … w-while still getting things done.” I wasn’t sure I believed my ears.
I looked up from my phone and Brenda still had her back to me. She was shuffling stuff around the shelves like she was still dusting. But she was holding her duster in a weird way, with two hands. She was absentmindedly stroking the rubber handle with her fingers. “I’d just have to find a number one customer who would be willing to help me with something crazy like that,” she said softly.
“What … what would that look like exactly,” I said, trying to keep the nervous feeling in my stomach and not in my vocal chords. I was becoming more aware of a boner forming in my lap and I was desperately hoping Brenda wouldn’t ask me to get up so she could clean the couch. Or would she actually like that?
“He would have to understand that my work comes first,” she said confidently. “That I wouldn’t want the quality of my cleaning to suffer.” She was blatantly stroking the duster at this point. “I’d want to be able to stay focused on the tasks at hand … while he made both of us feel good.”
This was my chance. “Brenda, I am your number one client,” I said with a determined tone in my voice. “You said it yourself. I want to make this happen for you. You do such great work here, and I want to show you how much it means to me–to show you that I believe in your business enough to make you feel good while you’re here in my house. It’s the least I can do.”
Brenda was silent for a moment. I started to question the words I’d just said. Then she turned around and looked at me. “That … that would be wonderful,” she said breathlessly. It was at this moment that she glanced at my lap and saw my hard cock straining against my basketball shorts. Her eyes got big and I could see her cheeks flush bright red. She bit her lip and she smiled, looking down at her feet. Or at least I thought she was looking at her feet.
She had actually noticed a small wet spot starting to form in the seam on the front of her shorts.