A Job For Kelly

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A routine day leads to a far from routine tryst.
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For the past five years, Kelly had owned and operated her own cleaning service. She had started working for a service in high school and kept with it through college. But when the small mom-and-pop operation packed up and moved to Wisconsin, Kelly decided it was time to venture out on her own. Armed with a business degree and several years experience managing a cleaning service, Kelly, with the blessing and help of her former employers set off on her own.

She loved being able to set her own hours and prices. She had done a lot of research at the beginning and discovered she could lower her costs by scheduling her regular customers just a little differently and keep only certain times for new or occasional clients.

Her regulars were her favorites. She knew what they were looking for and was able to get her job done as efficiently as possible. She'd built a relationship with most of them over the years. Well, most of them. The majority of her clients were pleasant, some of the older ones would even sit and visit with her while she was dusting or sweeping. There was one though, Mr. Thompson, who was very unsociable.

Kelly had first cleaned his house two years ago, right after his wife left him. Although she didn't know the details, Kelly had her own suspicions as to why the former Mrs. Thompson had just left. While Mr. Thompson was an attractive man, he was very controlling and cold. He would watch Kelly working from another room, saying nothing, but not trying to hide that he was there. When she'd finish, he would ask what he owed, hand her an already written check he'd pull from his pocket, then thank her and walk away, leaving her to show herself out. In two years, Kelly had never seen him smile, had never had a conversation with him or even exchanged small talk.

Kelly cleaned Mr. Thompson's house the third Tuesday of every month. She dreaded having to spend the time there. His house was not difficult to clean. Quite the contrary, being a bachelor who spent a large portion of his time either at the office, the gym or on the golf course, Mr. Thompson's house was often in need of only a light cleaning to keep things fresh. It was the way she felt in his presence that caused the knot of dread to form when Kelly woke up that Tuesday.

Thankfully, she would be cleaning Mrs. Klea's home just before his that Tuesday. Mrs. Klea had called in a panic the night before because her son had called to tell her he would be coming to visit with his wife and children in a few days. Mrs. Klea had both of her knees replaced earlier in the year and could do little more than run the dishwasher. She had always prided herself on her clean home, so her family coming to anything other than a spotless home was a terrifying thought.

Although she was extra thorough, Kelly quickly finished Mrs. Klea's home. As she was packing her supplies, Kelly's mind wandered to Mr. Thompson. He was an incredibly attractive man. In his late thirties, he was a few years older than Kelly. It was apparent that he took good care of himself. He had broad shoulders and thick biceps that strained against his shirts. When he wore short sleeves, Kelly could see his well defined forearms. Once she even thought she saw part of a tattoo on his left arm, but then she realized there was no way a man as starched and polished as Mr. Thompson would have a tattoo.

He had a nice butt too. Most men suffered from what Kelly called "flat-ass-syndrome," but Mr. Thompson had a hard, tight ass that looked great in a pair of Dockers. Actually, there wasn't much he didn't look good in. He was a good dresser, even when he was just lazing around his house. Kelly had never seen him in sweatpants or old, stained tee shirts. He was usually in a suit when she arrived and would disappear only briefly to change. Then he'd be back to hover.

Kelly hated the air of disapproval that he carried with him as he followed her through his house. If she didn't know any better she'd swear he followed behind her and finished all the spots he imagined she missed. When she'd gotten a new client on his recommendation Kelly was shocked. She couldn't imagine this man had ever said a positive thing about her. But the new client turned out to be a very nice couple who had Kelly come once a month just to get into the deep, dark corners no one liked to clean.

Kelly parked her car and dragged her supplies up Mr. Thompson's driveway. He opened the door and invited her in, following their normal routine. Then Kelly watched him run up the stairs to change while she got started.

She was on her toes dusting the top of the entertainment center when she felt him staring at her from the other room. As usually, she immediately felt self-conscious. She wished he would just go into the den and read, or back to his room, but he never did.

Kelly finished the living room and moved into the kitchen, the room Mr. Thompson had been watching her from. As she walked into the kitchen, he walked around the corner from the dining room and they collided.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you were in the other room." Kelly could feel herself blushing.

"It's ok. I thought you were in the living room still." As he said this, Mr. Thompson placed a hand on Kelly's arm and she felt like she'd been struck by a bolt of lightening. With his ice blue eyes staring down at her from his six foot frame, Kelly was completely frozen.

"I... Um... I... I better..." Kelly couldn't finish her sentence.

Mr. Thompson just stood there, his hand on her arm, looking into her dark green eyes. He'd never noticed the little gold flecks in them before. The way she looked up at him, with her soft, red hair falling across her pale cheek, had him transfixed. He reached up with his other hand and swept the hair from her face, hoping to break the spell. It only made it worse.

Where his fingers touched felt like fire across her cheek. Kelly reached up, thinking she'd feel her cheek burning, but found Mr. Thompson's hand still there. Before she knew what was happening, he bent down and kissed her. His kiss was passionate, yet soft and gentle.

Kelly felt her mouth responding to his. Her lips parted as his tongue started exploring her mouth. He pulled her closer and kissed her a little harder. Kelly's breasts were pressed against Mr. Thompson's chest. She would've sworn she could feel his heart pounding, but maybe it was hers.

Then, as suddenly as it started, it was over. Mr. Thompson was pushing her back.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-" Kelly threw her arms around his neck and, on her tip-toes, returned the kiss. Kelly could feel the bulge in Mr. Thompson's pants growing, while her own panties were getting damp.

His hand found its way to her breast which he easily manipulated her out of bra. Still under her shirt, he was pinching her nipple and squeezing her soft, full breast. Kelly let out an involuntary moan, causing Mr. Thompson to squeeze a little harder and Kelly's panties to become even damper.

Kelly had her hands under Mr. Thompson's shirt. His stomach was flat and smooth. She ran her hands up his hard body to his chest and then his shoulders. Mr. Thompson abandoned Kelly's breast just long enough to lift his hands, allowing her to remove his shirt.

Kelly could hardly believe her eyes. Mr. Thompson's body was sexier than she could have imagined. He had the body of a man ten years younger. His perfectly chiseled chest and abs gave way to the beginnings of a V-shape, covered only by his pants. And there, just a few inches below his shoulder, was a black design, permanently embedded around his bicep.

Kelly started kissing his neck, then down to his collarbone. She opened her mouth and tasted him, biting lightly. He tasted amazing. Her mind was swimming in a haze induced by his masculine musk.

As Kelly moved down his body, kissing, licking, and biting all the way, Mr. Thompson held her arms above her head, slipping her shirt off. Her breasts were as pale as the rest of her, except for her hard, pink nipples. They were larger than Mr. Thompson had guessed, closer to a C than a B. He liked the way the soft skin felt on his rough hands and the way her nipples responded to his touch.

Kelly's heart was pounding in her ears. Each beat sending a rush of blood to her head and a rush of moisture between her legs. Mr. Thompson's skin felt so good under her tongue, she wanted more.

Kelly dropped gracefully to her knees and quickly had his pants off. His size surprised her, but seeing his erection, which nearly touched his belly button, made Kelly's mouth water.

She took the tip into her mouth, slowly rolling her tongue around it as she stroked his shaft. She had barely taken in half of him and her mouth was already full. She could feel him pressing against her, pushing down her throat. Kelly adjusted her tongue and let Mr. Thompson's manhood slide into her throat.

"Oh baby," he groaned. Kelly's fingers were digging into the soft flesh of his ass. The pain was bearable, but mixed with Kelly's mouth gliding up and down his dick it was almost more than he could take.

Mr. Thompson reached down, picked Kelly up, and practically threw her on the counter, lifting her skirt in the process. When he yanked off her panties, he was delighted to see only a small strip of hair on her otherwise bald pussy.

He felt her wriggle slightly as he placed his hands on her thighs. He looked up into her smiling face and, realizing it was pleasure that caused her to twitch, Mr. Thompson began ravishing her with his tongue.

He started on her outer lips, licking up one then down the other. He could feel her juices beginning to flow. He licked up her dripping slit, his tongue darting in and out of her hole. Finally, he moved to her clit. He sucked the tiny nub and deftly inserted a finger in to Kelly's dripping cunt.

Mr. Thompson was sending Kelly somewhere she'd never been before. She could feel her ass rising off the counter as the orgasm started rolling through her body. The explosion that rocked her body caused her to soak the counter as she came.

Finally, satisfied that Kelly was done, Mr. Thompson returned his attention to Kelly's tits. They really were perfect. They fit perfectly in each of his hands. They hung naturally on her chest, but still showed the perkiness of her relative youth. Her nipples were his favorite part though. They were hard and a beautiful shade of dusty rose. The way they responded when he touched her made him even harder than he thought possible.

He flicked Kelly's nipple a few times, and was rewarded with a sigh of pleasure. He sucked and not only got to feel her nipple harden, but also elicited a little moan. Testing the waters, Mr. Thompson gently bit, carefully rolling Kelly's nipple between his teeth.

"Oh fuck!!"she moaned. Mr. Thompson could almost feel the heat radiating from Kelly's twat.

"I always knew you'd like it rough," he growled. Mr. Thompson pulled Kelly off the counter, easily manipulating her tiny frame, bent her over the counter, and impaled her pussy on his throbbing cock.

He was holding Kelly's hands behind her back so she couldn't move, not that she would want to. He was pounding her hard and fast. Kelly could feel his balls slapping against her clit with each thrust. She tried to use her hands to push herself back and further onto Mr. Thompson's dick, but he had a firm grip on her arms. Realizing she was at Mr. Thompson's mercy sent a wave of awareness through her she had never felt before.

As the beginning of Kelly's orgasm rippled through her, Mr. Thompson could feel her cunt tightening around his cock, begging him to release his load into her. He drove his dick deep inside her, still holding her arms tightly behind her back, cumming hard.

Mr. Thompson turned the still quivering Kelly and kissed her passionately. "My God, you're amazing!" he whispered between kisses. After several long kisses, Mr. Thompson pulled away.

"You can finish your work now." He grabbed his clothes and disappeared. Kelly stood, nearly naked in the kitchen for a few seconds.

What the hell was that? Had he really just given her permission to finish cleaning his house? Kelly got dressed, seething that he would have the nerve to talk to her like that. She had half a mind to tell him exactly what she thought about that. After what they had just done, in his kitchen nonetheless!! Now he was going to... to... well shit, she guessed he was paying her to clean his house. Resignedly, Kelly picked up her supplies and resumed her cleaning.

When she had finished Mr. Thompson's house, he gave her the prewritten check with the obligatory line about cost, thanked her, and disappeared again.

Kelly drove home wondering if she had imagined the whole thing. Recalling the episode, she had a nearly uncontrollable urge to reach under her skirt and try for a third orgasm, but decided against it. Instead she drove the rest of the way home bewildered.

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MaresEatOatsMaresEatOatsalmost 11 years ago
It's flat - if it's an ending. If it isn't, it's a great platform for more, and too sweet to abandon as is.

Nice to stay with her point of view, but can see the possibility of switching back and forth - the lure of him as the silent, deep unknown as it were. Hope we'll get more!

GagamamaGagamamaalmost 11 years ago
Still Waaiting

I kept thinking, isn't there a less prosaic setting than a housecleaner being screwed by a client? And we never learn why the client is so comatose (or why the wife left). Just a tip in writing short stories, Dylan: stay with the chief character's point of view.

horney47horney47almost 11 years ago
great story but . . .

. . . a rather lame ending. just a bit too cold for my taste. but still a good story.

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