Coming Clean

Coming Clean 1

My new hot young maid gets wet and wild after revealing her dirty little secret... A story of a young woman and a much older man. Fiction, with some elements of real life interwoven, and as much emotional truth as I could muster.

I opened the door to my Edwardian townhouse, in a small Midlands town. I expected to see my usual cleaning lady, Mrs Anderson, a pleasant woman in her fifties.

Instead, a young woman stood there, carrying the usual array of equipment. Her dark hair shone and was pulled back into a ponytail, bangs in front, showing off a flawless honey colored complexion. Maybe five feet three tall. It was hard for me to guess her age. Her smudged white work overall failed to show her figure clearly, being somewhat baggy with jeans beneath, but they hinted at something curvy, at least around her rear.

"Mr Stewart?" She smiled sweetly, revealing a charmingly imperfect set of slightly overlarge front teeth within a wide mouth. Always my weakness as a young man.

"Yes?"

"Mrs Anderson has been reassigned, sir," she explained very politely. "I'm Louisa. Louisa Brown. I'll be your cleaner from now on. I hope that's okay?" She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes.

"Please, come in. Where are my manners?" I led her through the hall to my study. It's a small reception room in an otherwise spacious old house, lined with bookshelves, a desk against one wall and a hearth with an open fire opposite, a large thick rug over waxed boards. A bay window gives onto a somewhat unkempt back garden. "I'm working in here. If you're not sure about anything, just come and ask. You'll find extra cleaning materials in the kitchen and a vacuum cleaner in the hall cupboard. The house isn't unusual and there aren't any spaces you can't go in, so I'm sure you'll easily find your way around."

She nodded, and glanced at my desk. "What do you do--if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh--didn't they tell you? I'm a writer. Mostly technical stuff. I try my hand at fiction now and then." I didn't tell her what genre...

Her eyes shone. I noticed for the first time how dark brown they were. "Wow. Impressive. You must tell me about it sometime--if you have time."

I grinned. "Not that impressive, really, but it would be a pleasure. Now, I guess we both better get on with our work."

"Oh. Yes, of course. Thanks." She gave me a grin back and my stomach flipped. You foolish old man. You must be old enough to be her father, and then some.

I realized it must be a result of the loneliness I'd suffered now for a good two years. The first year after I lost my wife, Yvonne, I was completely at sea. At least I was writing again, though it wasn't my best stuff. I knew I needed to get out more, but it still felt like a mountain to climb.

About a half hour later I got up to make a cup of coffee. I returned to my study to find Louisa cleaning there. When I entered she started, and looked as if she felt guilty about something. She blushed, which did nothing to reduce her attractiveness.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," I said.

"No, I'm sorry, I never asked if it was okay for me to clean in here." She gave me a strange look for a couple of seconds that I found hard to decipher at first, then smiled again. I could get used to that smile.

"No problem. Do you mind if we talk while you work?"

"Not at all, Mr Stewart."

"Look, if I'm allowed to call you Louisa, you can call me Jack. A long as you're okay with that," I added hastily.

"Of course, Mr... um, Jack. What did you want to talk about?"

"Is this your main occupation, Louisa?"

"Oh, no--I'm a student. I do this to help pay my way. Funds are tight."

"I'm sure. What do you study?"

"Theatre and cinema arts. It's mainly a vocational course with options for some technical and professional jobs."

"That's a tough one. Do you have any experience?"

"A little, though I'm only coming up twenty soon, so I haven't had much opportunity yet."

"I'm surprised. You look more, um, mature than that, to me. Though don't get me wrong. Everyone under fifty looks young to me, and quite a few over fifty."

She laughed, a husky, real woman's laugh, like the aural equivalent of a good Irish whiskey. "I'll take that as a compliment." She tilted her head a little and fluttered her eyelashes, a hint of a smirk tugging at one corner of her mouth.

What was that about? Then I remembered what I'd been writing on my computer... Did she see it? Shit... no wonder she gave me a strange look at first... but just then, that flirting? No, no way... surely she wouldn't... would she? I swallowed and forced a smile.

It was her turn to look puzzled.

We chatted on, and I learned that she lived at home, took part in drama productions and had a predilection for cosplay. That did nothing to calm my overheated imagination.

"I imagine that would help with the idea of getting into role."

"Oh, yeah. Cosplay and role play are one and the same to me, a vehicle for improv."

She checked her watch and sighed. "I have to go, Mr--"

"Jack, remember?"

That smile again. And that slightly upturned button nose and those dark brown eyes. "Jack. Thanks for the chat. It's good to have a client who shows an interest."

I saw her out and checked her next visit day. "Have a good week, Louisa."

"You too--Jack."

After I watched her, mesmerized by her lovely ass, sway down my drive with her kit and get into her battered little hatchback, I returned to my study and found it almost impossible to concentrate. My thoughts became more lurid and my erection persistent to the point where the use of my fleshlight became a necessity. I put on a favorite porn clip of a very voluptuous mature woman, conscious of trying to stop imagining Louisa in one or another cosplay outfit.

It didn't work. To my shame, Louisa won, and I came. Hard, and fast.

I'd bought the fleshlight a few weeks before and it reminded me just enough of the real pleasure of sex, that I began to form vague intentions of somehow finding a sexual partner. I didn't want anything more; it was impossible to imagine replacing Yvonne. However, I didn't like the look of mature dating sites, sugar daddy sites, and even less the use of escorts. I might not want a new wife, but it didn't mean I had no need of a sense of connection. I realized with a jolt that was what I'd begun to feel with Louisa, just from our conversation.

I spent the next week arguing with myself daily about the nonsense running through my head. How could I possibly imagine, in my wildest dreams, a young woman like that could be remotely interested in me? Other than, possibly, as a source of amusement, at best a kind of avuncular friend--slightly kooky, (not to mention kinky, if she read my work). Of course, I'd read plenty of fantasies about relationships between nubile young women and dirty old men, but that's all they were, as far as I was concerned.

The second week she turned up dressed in a way that did nothing to calm my racing thoughts. She had ditched the baggy overall for a tight blue one that was plainly too small. Her breasts, though not unusually large, strained at the fabric. Her nipples poked, pert and provocative. The top button was undone, no obvious sign of any bra beneath. Bare legs, skin gleaming, sandals with modest platform heels. Her hair had been pulled back on a French bun, leaving several strands falling in front of her ears. I wasn't sure what makeup she might have worn the week before, but she looked... glowing?

Her eyes glimmered with amusement. "Mr. Stewart? Jack?"

"Louisa! Sorry. I'm, er... grappling with a writing issue and my mind was in two places there," I half-lied. I felt a blush creep up from my neck. It had been in several places, all of them located on her body. My greatest challenge was to adopt a position least likely to reveal my predicament. I held the door wide, using it as cover, and managed a broad grin.

She hauled her gear into the hall and set it down. I left her to it and retreated to my study, blowing out a long breath as I sat behind my desk and grabbed my throbbing cock, giving it a good squeeze before adjusting my dress, as they used to say. I wasn't about to risk her walking in on me masturbating.

Half an hour later, still struggling to concentrate, I decided to wander out and see if I might run into my bewitching young cleaner again. I turned toward the kitchen, and stopped dead.

Louisa knelt, polishing the large brass doorknob to the kitchen door, an original I took care to conserve. She seemed to be paying very careful attention to it, breathing on the shining surface with a slightly wet, pink open mouth and rubbing her cloth with slow circular movements.

Swallowing hard, I couldn't decide if she knew I was there, until she suddenly looked my way. Blushing, I harrumphed and pretended to be inspecting a non-existent fault in the plaster wall next to my head. I looked at her again. "Oh! Louisa. I was just going to make a, um, cuppa... would you like one?"

A hint of a smirk twitched her lips. My mind fizzed with a firework display of filthy, sleazy thoughts.

Still kneeling, she fluttered her eyelids for a second. Sweet Jesus, La Belle Dame Sans Merci, or what? "Thanks, Mr... Jack." She stood, finally bringing me a little partial relief from my torture.

We chatted about mundane matters for a pleasant half-hour over tea, then I returned to my hopeless task of trying to write up some technical notes for a washing machine manual.

After Louisa left, my erotica, on the other hand, flowed as freely as the heavy freight of sperm that shot from my straining cock along with it, needing no other stimulus than the memory of Louisa kneeling and the friction of my boxers. Like a waking wet dream. How did she do that to me? I couldn't remember how long it had been since anything like that had happened. Probably not since the end of my teens.

Louisa continued to clean at least as well as Mrs Anderson had for the next few weeks. Each week she turned up in the same tight-fitting overalls, but sometimes also wore what looked to be seamed stockings, sometimes bare legs. Sometimes her makeup was almost tarty, at others demure.

The next episode came when she spotted a mark on the wooden floor in my study, while I was working. She bent over, her curvy butt sticking up so far that her overall slid far enough up to reveal a tight black thong, almost disappearing into her fleshy labia, just a little hair visible. I stifled a groan and put my hand over my eyes, opening my fingers to see if I had imagined it. Before she got up, I managed a quick rearrangement that was enough to make my rock hard erection twitch dangerously.

None of this happened in ways that I could unequivocally say were full-on deliberate seduction, however, and so the tantalising fruit dangled so near... and yet so far.

I managed to persuade her to have a tea or coffee break with me each time, and included it in her hours. I made up a reason for needing more hours and to my delight she accepted very readily, grateful for the extra money. During her breaks, and when she cleaned the study, we would talk about literature, film, art, pop culture, travel... anything and everything, other than relationships or family.

We didn't always see eye to eye.

"I don't get what you see in a singer like Dua Lipa. For that matter, half the female singers just sound like little girls to me. When you think of the greats who created the road map for them, singers like Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holliday--they don't even seem like they're from the same planet."

Her eyes flashed. "I suppose you think the last great singer was Annie Lennox."

"Now you're talking!" I loved yanking her chain like this. Her features became more animated, the bloom on her cheeks deepened, her nostrils flared and her eyes brightened. God, how was it that someone so attractive, like her, looked even sexier this way?

The fleshlight came into more and more regular use, and I gave up trying to use other sources of inspiration. I felt a little guilty, but told myself there was no real harm. It wasn't as though I was about to risk ruining it by hitting on her for real.

Some of her insights surprised me, and reminded me to take care not to patronise her.

She'd seen my copy of Butter on the bookshelf. "Do you think Asako Yuzuki is really intent on showing the ingrained misogyny of Japanese men, or is she just writing food porn?"

I laughed. "You've read it?"

"Er, dur..." She rolled her eyes

I gave her a wry smile. "Of course. Sorry. For me, she does both really well. I think Japanese society seems to have some big issues around sex, and especially expectations of women. The foodie bits... they just leave you drooling, don't they?"

That drew another of her husky, sexy laughs, guaranteed to fuel my fantasies

She still had to finish my study that day. While I returned to my computer, struggling to concentrate, she fetched her bucket and mop and began to mop the waxed floor. I surreptitiously kept taking little glances up from my screen. Her breasts wobbled as she energetically pushed the mop back and forth. I shifted uneasily in my chair.

Then she looked up and caught me watching. I blushed, but so did she, I thought, and smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

As she turned to walk away, I wondered, was it my imagination again? Her derriere swayed and the mop slapped against her overall, spilling water down her uniform and leaving a wide damp patch over one breast just when she stepped through the door. Was she giggling just then?

*

The next Friday Louisa turned up with a rather glum look on her face.

"Louisa, are you okay?" I stood in front of her to engage eye contact.

She looked at me briefly then dropped her gaze. "It's okay, Mr. Stewart... Jack. Maybe we can talk at break time?"

"Of course. Take a break whenever you want."

Twenty minutes later she swept into my study and flopped down onto the easy chair opposite my desk.

"I turned twenty yesterday."

"Oh! I didn't know. I hope it was a good one." I had a feeling it hadn't been.

"Mr. Stewart, I want to say something to you, but I'm afraid it'll get me sacked." She bit her lower lip. Did she realise how sexy that was?

I gathered from the formal 'Mr. Stewart' that she was seriously worried about something. "No it won't, Louisa. I don't judge. I don't see any evidence that you've done anything wrong here. You haven't stolen from me, done your work badly, or been aggressively rude. You've been nothing but a pleasure to have around."

She looked up, a spasm of what looked like hope crossing her eyes. "Really? Do you mean that?"

"Yes. Now, tell me. Confess, whatever it is. It can't be so bad."

She shivered, her eyes darting to mine then dropping down.. "Confession is the only word for it, Mr. Stewart... Jack. I... I... I want you to... fuck... me... to--to... use me... sir... I need to be your dirty little slut, your whore, to use however you want." She blushed a furious red and looked into my eyes, real anxiety and--desire there?

I jolted forward in my chair. I couldn't believe my ears. Was this my overheated imagination making up words she hadn't uttered at all? "Louisa... did you just say, you want me to... use--?"

"Me. Yes. My body, all of it. Any of it. Sexually. Not any other way. God, shut up."

I stared in bewilderment. "Why--what on earth would make you want me?"

Her face finally cracked into a crooked smile, then a smirk. "Hey, don't diss yourself," she murmured throatily. "You might be a lot older than me, but age is only a number, right? I reckon you're fitter than a lot of guys half your age. You're not at all bad looking, and you look after yourself. I... it's hard to explain. Coming here, talking with you... I feel like you get me."

"I thought I did, yes, though now I'm not so sure."

She stood, a crestfallen look on her face. "I'm sorry. I guess I should ask for another cleaner for you."

"What? No! Sit down, Louisa. Talk to me. I want to understand." I wanted a hell of a lot more than that, but I still wasn't ready to trust my senses.

She sat, mouth still downturned, eyes sad.

"Look," I said, "I'm not mad with you, or upset or outraged, or anything like that. It's just so... unexpected? Is there something that made you think I might accept your offer?"

She blushed again and I began to wish she wouldn't. It made her so damn attractive. "I know I shouldn't have, but the first week I came, when I cleaned in here, your computer was open. You were working on a story."

I furrowed my brows. "Ahh..." It was my turn to blush. "Yeah... I do write some erotica from time to time... it's a way of getting some, um, release... escape, anyway, from my loneliness."

"What happened to your wife? I know she died, but... I hope you don't mind me asking."

"Not at all. It was an aneurism, one we obviously knew nothing about. Here one moment, gone the next. She was my everything, Louisa. We were never able to have kids, but she was more than enough for me. I was lost without her. Still am, if I'm honest."

Her eyes creased at the corners. "I'm sorry."

"Yes... anyway, you read my dirty little secret." I gave her a half smile. "Did you like it?"

She leaned forward, a gleam of mischief and hope returning to her eyes. "It was... So. Fucking. Hot. When you have the young shop assistant backed up in the storeroom with nowhere to go, and she suddenly stops pretending to protest and drops to her knees... I went back to my room later and wrote another chapter with myself as your next conquest, taking the part of a stranded cyclist you stop to help. I rubbed one out while I wrote. It made me squirt, Jack, I'm telling you. You have one dirty mind. I have a weakness for that kind of perviness. Girls can be pervs too." She giggled.

"Good to know," I said on a grin, fingering my collar. "But I still don't get it, why me? There must be plenty of good looking, fit boys in college."

She rolled her eyes. "If you want to be a bimbo, don't challenge their fragile little egos, perform to their fantasy image of what you should be like, then yeah. I mean... Some aren't so bad, but even then it's always about them, never me. Not just their getting off, but even mine. It's no more than a proof of their wonderful masculinity. And when you're like me... less than their ideal... you're supposed to be so grateful for their attention. And if you want to be a slut? Then that's exactly what, and all you are, and everyone is going to get to hear about it." She garbled all this in a rush and glared, not so much directly at me, but at the male gender in general.

"Wow. I've heard about toxic masculinity, but I didn't realize it was like that."

"They either want to treat me like a harem girl or get me to mentor them. Yes, I want to be used, but on my terms, by someone who understands what I mean by that."

I leaned forward. "I think I'm beginning to. You want to surrender control but still keep the ultimate power to determine what happens? Is that it?"

"Close enough." She smirked and flushed again, sending another surge of excitement exploding through my guts. "I want to lose any sense of responsibility, be completely in the moment, conscious only of my body and my partner's, of the connection, of the pleasure. I want that surrender to be something I know I can trust to the other person, that if I say stop, it would stop. I don't want to have to think about that. I just need to know up front."

I nodded. "And maybe you want someone who you hope will be able to show you things you didn't know you could respond to, both in yourself, and in what we do together." We. I'd said it. I swallowed, hard. And I was already responding to things I didn't know I would be turned on by.

She jumped up. "So you will do it with me? Take charge? Use me? Take me places I've never been, with my explorations?"

I raised my hands in a calming gesture. "Louisa, I'm unbelievably flattered that you would choose me for what you're seeking. But I don't think we can just jump in like this, without really thinking about the possible consequences."

The crestfallen look returned.

I felt completely torn in two. My lust was palpably threatening to rip me open. But I was afraid of what I might end up doing to this vulnerable, gorgeous young woman. Maybe afraid of my own feelings after so long without anyone in my bed.

"Look... why don't we think about this for a few days. Perhaps you'll regret it if you go ahead without considering all the angles." Stupid. All the angles? Really?

She stood, looking down, and gathered her gear. "Okay, Mr. Stewart. If that's what you think we should do." Her eyes weren't moist, were they?

I walked her to the door. After I opened it for her, she turned to me, with a look of defeat in her eyes, I thought.

There was a long pause. We must have made a miserable looking pair.

Suddenly, I couldn't take it any more. All the times in my younger life when I'd passed up opportunities, not just for sex, but a few other things besides, spun through my head like a kaleidoscope of accusations. Of wasted life.

Something snapped. I took half a step forward and her bucket dropped to the floor. I grabbed her head and pulled it to mine, and our mouths met in a hot, wet tangle of desperate tongues and inside lips. Like two overripe fruits smashed and twisted together, noisy, gasping, moaning.

We broke, panting, flushed, eyes gleaming. "Mr. Stewart... sir... are you taking up my offer?"

I managed a smile. "Let's work out some ground rules, Louisa. Very few people would see this as acceptable, given our age difference, and that I'm sort of your employer."

We returned to my study, still breathing hard.

She sat, but with a look of excitement growing in her eyes. My own excitement was threatening to take over my reason.

"I get that... sir... I'm more than happy to keep it between ourselves. I have no intention of broadcasting it. I only have a couple of girlfriends, and they certainly wouldn't understand. I'm on the pill. No way I'll be calling foul on you further down the line. I'll give you a signed affidavit if you want, and a recording to say exactly how consensual this is, how it's all my idea."

I raised a palm. "There's no need for that, Louisa. I'm more than willing to trust you, simply because of how much trust you're placing in me. You're making yourself every bit as vulnerable--more so, really--as I am."

She smiled radiantly. "And that tells me I'm right to trust you. Now, so you know, I'm clear of STDs. I'm happy to take your word on that for your part, and... anything goes, as long as it doesn't risk permanent harm. Both of us can call a stop. I'll yell pax."

I smiled at that throwback to my own schooldays, and wondered what had made her choose it.

She sat forward, taut. "Both of us can suggest new things to do. I'm really excited to try this... sir."

I smiled and shook my head. "I just hope I can live up to your hopes and expectations, Louisa."

"No, sir... I hope I can live up to yours..." She stood and walked to my desk, leaning forward and unbuttoning her work overall. She placed her hands on the desk, and her braless breasts swung free. Completely bare under the tight blue coat, her tits were nothing less than gorgeous, not by any means huge but more shapely than I'd expected on what I now realized was a relatively slight frame.

She fixed me with a heavy-lidded stare. "Now, use me... please..."

I took a deep breath. "In that case, Louisa... you'll recall you came to me at break. You must complete your cleaning first."

"What?" She stood, an almost angry expression creasing her features.

"You asked me to use you. Obedience is the first rule." I spoke sternly, my heart racing. It was a role I'd never played but it came disturbingly naturally.

She bowed her head and even gave a little curtsey. "Yes... sir."

I bit back a smile. "The sooner you're done, the sooner you can collect your reward. Go on, now." I dismissed her with a wave of my hand and she dutifully trotted off.

I raced up to my bedroom and took a quick shower, then dried and checked my appearance. I put on a dab of woody cologne then dressed in loungewear bottoms and a simple black tee. I stuffed condoms, latex squares and lube, left over from my married life, into the pocket, just in case.

When I returned to the study, she had already reached it and was cleaning there.

"I only have this room left to do, sir," she said, biting her lip seductively as she glanced at me.

My erection tented and an obvious damp patch marked the apex. "You look very warm. Take off your overall, Louisa."

She flushed and licked her lips, stood and faced me, then peeled her uniform off. She had nothing on, apart from block heeled sandals. Her figure was stunning, breasts jutting out and a tiny bit pendulous at the same time, nipples pointing slightly sideways in the centre of slightly puffy wide aureoles. They were already hard. Her butt curved deliciously, her waist slender, her legs very shapely. A neat black triangle pointed to her fleshy sex lips below, visibly hanging from what appeared to be a swollen mound. She pushed out her breasts and her bum for my benefit.

"Do you like what you see, sir?" she murmured throatily.

"Yes. Very much." I swallowed, but steeled myself. "You still need to finish cleaning."

She smirked and then took her time, moving artfully around the room, finally bending to dust a low table with her legs spread to reveal both her glistening vulva and her crinkled anus.

"Louisa, have you been playing with yourself while you've been working?" I said in my masterly voice, just about managing to avoid it cracking.

She stood and looked at me in mock-shyness over her shoulder, biting her lower lip apprehensively.

Damn. I could so just fuck her right now, right there. "Well?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I'll make it up to you, I promise." She turned and walked to my desk, standing beside my chair.. "I've finished now. What do you want me to do, sir?" She pouted and twitched her hips from side to side.

"Bend over the desk, Louisa." I stood.

She flushed. Her lips parted and the look in her eyes grew hot. She fixed her gaze on me as she slowly bent over beside me, raising her gorgeous curvy bum in the air, squashing her tits against the desk.

I moved behind her and bent near to her crack, picking up the scent of her excitement and the musk of her anus. As she quivered and adjusted herself to give me the best angle for entry, I brought my hand down in a sharp smack against her right buttock.

"Ahh! Ow--what--uhh... yes... punish me, sir... it's only what I deserve..."

I waited a few seconds until she gave a little whimper and squirmed her bum, then came down firmly with another smart smack against her left buttock. It stung my hand a touch and I almost laughed, but the sight of her, prone and vulnerable, and the sense of power and lust balanced against the trust she was placing in me, made me almost well up.

After maybe half a minute had gone by, during which I got a hold on my reactions, she let out a moan and looked back at me with half-closed eyes, tears gathering around the glimmering need I saw there. I stuck my courage to the place and gave her another three sharp smacks.

"Ow! Ahhh! Please..."

I bent my head to her ear. "Do you promise to behave now, Louisa?"

She nodded and sniffed, her mascara running a little.

I stood back. "Good. Get on your knees and suck my cock. Now." When she began to get up, a look of delight curling her mouth, I pushed down on her shoulders and she dropped to her knees with a little yelp.

She looked up into my eyes, a sparkle in her brown depths as she nuzzled the bulge in my lounge pants, sniffing at the damp patch.

I pushed the waistband down and sprang my straining cock into the open.

"Oh... it's so big... I'm not sure I can manage it," she whispered shakily.

It was--is. Enough of a girth that I can't close my own hand around it, let alone hers. "Yes. You will. Do as you're told."

"Yes, sir." She ran trembling fingers from my scrotum to the tip, then brought her nose to my balls and sniffed all the way up my shaft. She looked up at me with a little blob of precum on the end of her nose. "You smell good, sir..." Her tongue slid over the head and swirled it round a few times before running a kiss all the way down the length. "And you taste so good..." She teased the frenulum with little darts of her tongue-tip, making me shiver.

I had to feel that mouth on mine again. I bent down and took her face in one hand, pulling her into a kiss, tasting her lips and encouraging her to open her mouth with my tongue, until we were meshed in a perfect osculation of soft, wet mutual exploration, our tongues dancing around each other for what seemed an age. I could spend an entire evening just kissing this girl and die happy.

"Your mouth tastes good too," she muttered.

"You taste dirty. Now, suck me."

Keeping her eyes on mine all the time, she took me in her mouth again and worked my cock like it was the last one on earth. If she didn't have much experience, she must be a true natural. She seemed to particularly like distending the side of her mouth with my glans, the way porn actresses so often do.

After licking and sucking this way for a while, taking little over half of me inside, she inched me gradually further back until I was nudging her uvula. She gagged a couple of times and struggled to get the right angle, but finally cleared the last hurdle and stared into my eyes with a glow of pride.

I stared back, feeling the surge of lust anew. "Very good, Louisa... well done."

She let me free for a moment and gasped. "Thank you, sir... I'm only here to please you, sir... to be your little slut..." She slid me back in and this time took me easily, to the hilt.

I took her head in my hands and held her steady while I fucked her face, beginning slowly and building up until she was drooling, the saliva spooling down over my cock and balls and onto her bouncing breasts.

The noises she made were nothing short of pornographic.

"Mmm... sllk... gllg... gllg... gllg... gllg... ahh!... mmm... sllk... slurp... gllg... gllg... gllg..."

"You are a good little slut, Louisa... so fucking good... unhhh... uhh..."

From time to time she gagged and took a huge gulp of air, but then impaled herself with total commitment and resumed the very audible throating.

I let her work her magic for the next few minutes then decided if I didn't switch it up I would soon come. It was far too good to bring it to such a premature end.

I stood back, her mouth giving me up with a reluctant wet plopping noise. Tears had begun to make her eyeliner run and her lipstick was a mess. The saliva ran off her chin and hung down in a thick skein that looked for all the world like she had already dragged the spunk from my aching balls.

After gulping down a couple of breaths, she made a little noise of disappointment in her throat. I grabbed her shoulders, hauled her up, and pushed her back onto the top of my desk.

She squealed then leaned up on her elbows, her legs spread wide, her gorgeous pussy bursting open for me like a dewy rosebud. The scent hit my nostrils and they flared, sending a sharp tingle down my spine, and my heart into my mouth.

Dropping to my knees I brought my head up to her glistening vulva, burying my mouth inside the luscious folds, the scent and the tangy sweetness on my tongue making me want to cry out. My tongue busied itself deep inside her hot wet hole, flicking at her clit, nibbling at it, sucking it until it grew maybe twice the size.

Little cries and bleats of pleasure escaped her throat, anxious anticipations of a pending tsunami.

I slid two fingers into her hot little hole and probed her sweet spots, working firmly and quickly.

Spulch... spulch... spulch...

"Ohh... sir... please..."

Spulch. Spulch. Spulch.

"Mmm... oh, fuck... harder... please..."

Spulch! Spulch!

She cried out. "Faster... ahh..."

Spulschspulchspulch!!

Her legs started to shake and her cries became a sustained moan, then her obscenities came steady and fast. "Oh... fuck... Jack... this is so fucking good... stick your tongue right inside my cunt... yes! That's it! Your finger in my ass... ohhh... that's so good... finger fuck my bum while you suck and lick my hole... I want your cock in there too... mmm... ohhh... Jack... finger fuck my pussy too... yesss... Ohh... fuck... fuck..."

My other hand replaced the two fingers in her tight hole and fucked fast and very wetly, while my now slick fingers transferred to her bumhole, stroking gently round the rim then pushing inside carefully but without hesitation.

Then she began to ejaculate, little milky streams spurting out over my hand and her pussy. I dropped my mouth to her clit once more, tasting the sweeter cum, and suddenly she burst in a screaming, back-arching orgasm that ripped through her in wave after wave, making her whole frame shudder. "Ohh!! Jack!!.. You fucking... dirty... unhh... bastard... OHH!!..." She went on like that for what must have been half a minute or so.

I hadn't seen anyone come like that, ever. I almost felt ashamed that it had to be me to witness it, someone who had no real right in my own eyes. But when her eyes opened again and she focussed on me, the disgust I feared she must feel on remembering who she had co-opted to achieve her release wasn't there, only something deep and unfathomable, like the depths her eyes called to mind.

When Louisa recovered enough breath to speak properly, she fixed me with that deep soulful stare, and pulled my cock towards her sex. I'd forgotten it for a little while, lost in the wonder of her climax, but now the urgency of the need swept over me again.

"Use me," she growled, "make me your dirty little fuck toy, your filthy plaything, your slutty whore... I want to feel your cum fill me up... use all my holes... cum in me over and over..."

I nudged her opening, the head slipping easily inside, then rammed into her. She gasped, then grunted like a man as I began to fuck her urgently. My balls slapped against her bum cheeks and I reached forward to fill my hands with her lovely breasts, cupping, kneading, thumbing the nipples, dropping my mouth to lick, nip and suck on them, making her shiver and moan. I moved up to kiss her neck and then her mouth, deeply and wetly, tasting my cock on her soft mobile lips, smelling it on her breath.

After a few minutes I pulled her upper body up against me and gathered my arms around her back.

She took the hint and wrapped her legs around my torso, then grunted as I picked her up and swung her round off the desk, her arms wrapped around my neck, her mouth glued to mine, our tongues engaged in a dance of sexual hunger.

I moved to the rug in front of the hearth and eased her down to it, landing her on her shoulders while holding her bum against my thighs and staying inside her. I half-squatted over her, still fully inside but now almost vertically above, piledriving her. She dropped her ankles back to her head and brought her hands to her breasts, squeezing them together and flicking her tongue across her nipples, while I devoted myself to fucking her in that position. It was something I'd only ever done a handful of times and not for a long time, and I surprised myself at still having the suppleness to do it.

It also gave me access to her clit and her anus, and I used my fingers again to bring her to another state of shuddering excitement. I kept her on the brink by pushing in and withdrawing completely, very slowly, over and over, until she was begging for release.

"Please... let me come... please... oh fuck... I need it so badly... please..."

I reverted to fucking her more urgently, gyrating and rotating my cock to get the best angles I could for her, then she blew again, groaning and pushing up against me, rubbing her clit with her own fingers, yelling the same sweet profanities once more.

Looking down into that sexy face, when she opened that souldeep gaze on me again after her tremors finally subsided, I felt a rush of blood pounding in my ears, my cock suddenly expanded to its absolute limit, and I arched and cried out. "Oh... fuck... I'm cumming... OOARHHHH!!.. OH... Louisa!!... unhh... urghh... OHHH!!... AHHH... mmm... oh fuck..."

"Yes! Give it to me! I want to feel it right up inside... ohhh!... Sir!" An aftershock rippled through her until she fell away from me, quickly knelt up, and began to lap at my still dribbling cock twitching in front of her very flushed face.

"Mmm... gllg... mnngg... sllk... oh... that tastes so fucking hot..." She succeeded in coaxing a little after-spurt of my own, giggling when it splashed onto her nose and lips. She swiped it lazily with her fingers and licked it off with deliberation, staring me out steadily.

I felt so shaky after my climax that I dropped onto my knees beside her, then we fell back together onto the rug, panting, lying side by side.

After a long fuzzy hiatus of aftersex glow, she turned her rosy cheeks towards me. "Thank you... sir." She grinned mischievously.

I sighed, propping myself up on one elbow. "I should have known you'd be trouble. For someone who sounds like they haven't had all that much experience, you seem to be very clued in about sex. I'm not complaining," I added with a grin of my own.

"I like to think I know my own body pretty well. I've been exploring it for quite a long time. And before you go thinking it, about the dom thing, I don't have daddy issues."

"No?"

"I don't have a daddy, period. Not alive, anyway."

My face fell. "I'm sorry. Since you asked about my wife, can I...?"

"Sure. He died in an accident just a few weeks after I was born. I love him, as far as that's possible, because of everything I've been told, but that's just an abstract thing, I suppose. Mom never found another partner and I'm not sure she wants to. She dates. Often slightly younger men. There's one particular guy who comes and goes in her life. He was sort of disappointed in love too and doesn't look like he'll ever commit. She has plenty of fun and brought me up to love men in general and not feel guilty about sex."

"That's tough, but your mom sounds like a pretty amazing person."

"She is. The sex thing... well, I became aware very early because of my mom's dating habits. I walked in on her one night when I was far too young to understand exactly what was happening, and didn't see what precisely went where, but I could see they were having a shitload of fun and remembered the general idea. It made me curious, and when I started to think more about boys in middle school I peeked on her a couple of times and got a real eyeful. I felt guilty and told her, but she laughed about it and gave me a great talk, loads of reading material, and a lecture about not being ashamed."

"I wish I'd had a bit more guidance like that when I was a kid. My dad's generation wasn't quite that switched on. I discovered my own body's potential quite early too, but it took a long time for me to get my head round that."

She giggled. "I started playing with myself right after reading the stuff mom gave me, thinking about the guy she'd been fucking and the size of his dick. But the shame thing isn't all plain sailing, is it? It takes more than a permission from a parent to just rise above it. Social media, social mores in general, the whole slut shaming thing from the misogynist shits... in your teens your head is a whirl with all that crap, on top of hormones, body image insecurity, and studies to boot."

I let my gaze wander down her body and back up again. "I hope you don't suffer from any body image problems now," I said. "That would be so sad. You have a gorgeous body, and I would have said that at 19, 29, 39... anything with a nine in it."

She laughed. "Did you notice women really early?"

"Oh, yeah. And I orgasmed too, though not productively, and I didn't have a clue what it was about at first. Girls like you filled my dreams from then on.

"So, then. The sub thing... is that a good way to feel shame and guilt in a safe space? Use the dirty talk to kick it in and then use it to fuel even more excitement through the feeling of forbidden pleasures, ending up getting it out of your system?"

She screwed up her nose. "Umm... maybe... I don't like to overthink it, really. It's hot, feeling dirty gives me license to go for all the pleasure I can find, and it definitely excites the fuck out of me."

"Talking of which..." I gazed at her body again, and ran my hand over her breasts, teasing her nipples and slowly massaging her perfect yielding curves.

She looked down at my cock, which was once more fully erect. I felt like a teenager again myself. Not surprising really.

She moaned. "Fuck, Jack... you really are horny, aren't you? Younger guys have got nothing on you." She leaned in for a kiss, her earthy-scented mouth still sticky from the remnants of my sperm, and began to stroke and rub my shaft and balls very nicely.

"You do that so well," I muttered.

"And you're driving me nuts with your nipple play." She shuddered and moaned softly. "I think I might learn to come that way... I want to learn all the ways I can."

"Just relax, then," I said more firmly. "Do as you're told. Be a good girl for sir."

She fluttered her eyelashes and giggled. "Yes, sir. I'll do whatever you say, sir."

"All right... masturbate, enjoy yourself, while I use my mouth and my hands on your tits. I'm going to get some oil and some lube."

She sighed and closed her eyes, wriggling a little as she spread her legs. A delicious musk arose from her swollen, oozing pussy, my cum still seeping out of her pink folds. One of her hands moved to her labia and started to spread them, two fingers slithering up and down the inside arms of her clitoris then rubbing on her stiffening nub.

I got up and fetched lube and baby oil, then poured a little oil on her breasts and some lube on her fingers. When she used her other hand on my cock I put some there as well, then returned to focusing on her nipples and the surrounding fullness of her breasts. I teased her rock hard nipples with my tongue and fingertips, alternating with sucking gently on the curves of her satin soft breast skin, grazing her nipples with my teeth, squeezing, cupping her breasts and encouraging her to use her own mouth alongside mine. This way we were able to kiss indulgently, our tongues battling over her nipples, making her giggle and gasp alternately.

Her hands were making wet noises on both our sexes, and soon she tugged on my shaft, clearly urging me back between her thighs. I complied readily, and pushed back inside her rippling, reeking hot cunt with a grunt, then set up a strong fucking rhythm.

She threw her arms around my neck and gazed up into my eyes. "This is so... unhh... fucking good... don't stop..."

As if I could. I grunted with urgent desire, my cock seeming to grow larger still as she bucked and gyrated beneath me. "Unhh... is this what you... want... uhhh... are you my... dirty... unhh... little cumslut? Hmmm? I want your... unhh... ass... Louisa..."

"Ohh... yes... I'm your nasty little whore... I want you... urgghhh... in my ass... filling it... oh!... with spunk..." She rolled from beneath me and turned onto her stomach, lifting her perfect round bum in the air just enough to allow me to get my head down there.

The temptation was too great to resist. She squealed as I smacked her bum cheeks again, three or four times, then gave in to the greater temptation.

I sniffed at the lovely crinkled hole. Musky but not too strong, and my tongue began to tease the rim until she bore down and her anus began to open. I knelt up and positioned my pulsating cock, then teased and probed gently for a while.

Louisa whimpered and gyrated her trembling butt against me. Her fingers pushed into her pussy and drew out a lot of juice, which she pushed into her bumhole, flexing and relaxing increasingly. She drew more of her own lubrication round from the one hole to the other, and gently but firmly I pushed inside her until my head popped her entrance. After waiting a few seconds, I pushed in an inch at a time, until she grew more urgent and began to push back against me, making me grunt and fuck into her decisively.

"Unhhh... uhh... sir... yes.... ohh... god... yes... unghhh... uhh... that's it.... yes.... fuck my ass... sir... fuck it deep and strong... unghhh... fill it with your... ohhh!... unhhh... hot... fucking... cum..."

While she dirty-talked me to an even greater state of arousal, I filled my hands with her lovely globes, stroking one moment, grasping and clawing the next, then running my hands forward to do the same with her breasts, squashed down against the rug. "Louisa... I'm going to explode... unhhh... soon... ahh... right in your... unhh... ass..." I twisted and tilted, gauging her reactions to ensure I gave her the best angles for her own pleasure, and as I did her fingers began to work her own clit.

I took the prompt and slipped my own fingers inside her pussy at the same time, and she showed every sign of nearing her climax. It came in a tide of unstoppable shuddering release, spasms rocking through her body while she screamed my name and moaned more sweet obscenities into the rug.

It was too much for me to keep going any longer, and I burst inside her, my remaining hot streams almost tortured from my impossibly engorged tip, making me cry out and clutch her flesh ecstatically, pushing my cock inside her as hard as I could with each disgorging stream.

We were a hot sticky mess by this time, and collapsed exhausted, kissing slowly.

We must have drifted into light sleep for a time. When we separated we were sticking together. I woke, stroked her hair, and planted a kiss on each eyelid.

"Happy belated birthday, Trouble. I hope that was the present you wanted."

She opened her eyes and smiled. "So much better than the stuff I didn't need yesterday."

When we finally scraped ourselves off the floor, I led her upstairs to the shower. We washed each other down, taking our time.

I rinsed the shampoo from her hair, then pulled her to me. She pushed her belly against my semi-erect cock and I leaned forward, lowering my head to hers... then reached behind and turned the shower full on, stone cold.

"Arghh! Jack--why would you do that?" She yelped and screamed, and struggled against me when I held her fast.

I chuckled and held on to her squirming, slippery body. "Good for your blood pressure. Thirty seconds at the end of every shower." I reached behind her, turned off the water, and leaned the rest of the way in to complete the kiss, tongues very slow and deliberate. I could still taste both of us.

She smiled when we broke. "It does make you feel good when you stop--the cold shower, I mean."

"Yes. Like banging your head on a brick wall." I gave her a crooked grin and she came back with a playful punch to my shoulder.

I raised an eyebrow. "More punishment may be necessary if you behave that way, Ms Brown."

She bit her bottom lip and looked up at me beneath lowered lids. I had to stifle a groan.

"I think your new duties will require that you always make me the last call on a Friday, Louisa."

She fluttered her eyelashes. "As you wish... sir. I can, um, always add another shift one evening, if required..."

I raised an eyebrow and smirked. "That's very... accommodating. I could always use the extra help."

After we dried off and dressed, I invited her to have something to eat with me. "That's if you have the time."

"I'd love to! I'll text home and tell Mom I ran into a friend and we're picking up a takeaway."

I took her to my small kitchen. I've always enjoyed cooking, but decided to keep it simple.

"There are some giant frozen prawns in the freezer. We could have them with some pasta, fry them off in butter with some garlic and chilli flakes. There's a bottle of red open. Is that okay?"

She beamed as if I'd just told her we were going to have lobster and champagne. When the prawns were done, I cut off a piece and held it on a fork to cool for a few seconds then waved her over. "Make sure it's how you like it."

She stepped close and opened her mouth, her glistening pink tongue sliding out over her lower lip, staring at me very deliberately.

I slid the morsel onto her tongue and she took it off with her lips, very slowly, then moved it around her mouth, still keeping her gaze fixed on mine until she finally swallowed. She licked her lips with a slow tongue. "Delicious."

I grabbed her shoulders and claimed another flavoursome kiss. "Mmm. Delicious."

We laughed and joked through our all-too-brief meal, feeding each other a couple of times and sharing more conversation about her studies and my work.

Before she left, we worked out that she could come over on Tuesday evening, on the pretext of visiting a friend.

"Oh, and Trouble? Bring something to demonstrate your cosplay skills. I'd like that."

She smirked. "I'll do that, sir. I hope you'll be pleased."

I grinned for answer.

When it was time to leave she picked up her gear. I went with her to the door.

We exchanged a brief but very warm kiss, then as she turned to go, I smacked her rump firmly. She yelped, giggled, then turned around and winked. Her gaze turned sultry and I melted inside as she finally went through the door.

I sighed. Could life get any better? (TBC...

***

I first wrote this story a while ago, but revised it after reading Kat90xx's stories. Anything you find exciting here is likely due to her influence, which I'm more than happy to acknowledge. If you haven't read her stories, do it now!