A Good Routinebyzaraje©
The first time was the best. Elena has become very skilled since then, and God knows I last longer, but the first time was special because it was first; never since have I been so pleasantly surprised, so instantly aroused, and never since then has the sense of release been so profound and draining. It is my fondest sexual memory, a scene I have replayed many times...
She had been my housekeeper for several months, referred to me by the realtor who found my quiet little house for me. She came once a week. I tried to be a model client, writing in my office as she cleaned the rest of the house and going to the kitchen for a cup of coffee when she was ready to tidy up my sanctum. Always I paid her as she left, writing a check at the kitchen table. We rarely spoke; she knew her business, and I am not one to give unneeded advice. And she usually had little to say to me... but this day, after I handed her the check, she spoke to me softly in her uncertain english;
"Mr. Jenkins, I'm thinking... you... I could give you blowjob and you give me... 40 dollars?"
We looked at each other. Elena is not a beautiful woman, but neither is she plain. She has a solid, working woman's body, clear brown skin, a pleasant face... her hair is black, glossy, curly and thick, very much her finest feature. I didn't speak - I might not have been able to, I was so surprised - but I reached for my wallet and fished out two twenties; cash seemed appropriate. She took them with a little nod, as if sealing a deal with herself.
"Uh, in the living room. The couch."
She turned and walked in ahead of me. I followed.
The fact is, it had been a long time. Years. One of the things I like about my work is that I can do it alone, but to do it well I need to concentrate and to concentrate I need quiet and routine. Women are hard on both. But no women... after a while, that is also hard. Elena seemed to be offering me relief without entanglement, an arrangement that might suit us both very well... a routine.
In the living room she turned to me, as if for instructions.
"Can you remove your blouse?"
She thought about it, and her face suggested that she agreed this was a reasonable request. "But just my top, okay?"
So she took off her blouse and bra with little fuss, laying them over the back of a chair. The bra straps left marks. She affected calm, but her nipples were very stiff. I also tried to be calm, but I actually stumbled as I got out of my pants and my fingers seemed too large as I unbuttoned my shirt. I sat on the edge of the couch, my erection bobbing tightly.
Elena seemed a little amused by my nervous haste, and smiled slightly as she knelt in front of me. And now it was time. I spread my legs apart and she moved forward on her knees until her mouth was just over my prick and I could feel her breath on it. Her curls brushed against my stomach. She held my balls with one hand and licked my shaft a few times before taking me into her mouth. I am afraid I groaned quite loudly and soon I was bucking into her face. She stayed with me gamely, sucking hard and letting me enter her fully. I buried my hands in her lovely hair, gripping her skull and then my ears were roaring and my eyes were tightly shut and I came explosively, pumping into her mouth for several seconds. She sucked hard, swallowed, and kept me in her mouth until I had subsided somewhat and sat back on the couch with a sigh. Then she disengaged and used a cleaning rag to dab her lips. Without a word she stepped into the bathroom with her clothes and emerged a little later, dressed, with her hair brushed and makeup repaired. She smiled at me and left.
The arrangement has continued for three years now. We have avoided the obvious ways to screw things up: Elena still cleans the house thoroughly, and I am not overly familiar with her. She still blows me every week – I usually wear a bathrobe on cleaning day, to make things easier for both of us. It is always oral sex, and she never removes her skirt. I write a check for the cleaning and hand her cash before she sucks me. I have raised her wages for both services several times - she's earned it.
I bought a book about oral sex, a good one with pictures and clear instructions. Elena has a good work ethic, and listens attentively as I read to her. Her french swirl is remarkable, and she knows what to do with an ice cube. She will do exactly what I ask, within the limits set by her during our first liaison. Sometimes I ask her to kneel as I stand, so that I can fuck her face, and she will brace herself so that I can thrust vigorously. Sometimes I ask her into the bathroom, so that I can watch in a mirror as she bends over me. Twice she has agreed to let me live out a porn engendered fantasy, allowing me to come onto her face and breasts. I tipped her those days.
But frankly, our usual encounter is like our first; she kneels in front of me and I bury my hands in her beautiful hair. We are not so urgent, and she sucks me slowly, bringing me gradually to a wonderful, dizzying climax. Sometimes there is tender talk - we have, after all, been intimately acquainted for several years now - and sometimes I merely gaze into her eyes fondly as she gives me exquisite pleasure.
There have been no other women for me - I haven't needed them. The routine has been very good for my writing, and I have celebrated a couple of book deals with a substantial gift for Elena - she is after all, partly responsible for my successes.
I understand that there is a sordid side to the arrangement. I am a rich white man and she is a brown cleaning woman. She sucks my cock for money. But there is another side as well. I had a need, and so did she. Elena set the terms of her service. There are lines she does not care to cross, and I have never urged her to cross them.
I believe that Elena came to know me very well in the first months she worked for me, and divined my nature accurately. I was emotionally suited for a solitary life; it was only the accumulating physical need that bothered me. As for her... well, we all need money. Elena makes a good wage cleaning, and is very well compensated for the time she spends on her knees. I am a quiet, respectable man and she is a discreet, dignified woman. No one else's opinion matters.
The routine works well for both of us.