How I Got a Maid Ch. 04

The luscious aroma of tomatoes and herbs filled my tiny kitchen, as a small pan filled with sauce simmered on top of the stove. Behind it, water boiled in a stainless steel pot. I poured a half box of spaghetti into the water, stirring the pot and watching the stiff pasta sink gradually into the water, as the Dave Matthews Band played in the background.

I grabbed an open bottle of Rolling Rock from the counter and took a deep drink. One of the side benefits of my arrangement with Carmen Quintana, in addition to a clean apartment, and spectacular sex, was rediscovering my love of cooking.

I grew up following my mother around in the kitchen, watching as she made her special brand of magic. She talked to me all the while as she cooked, explaining how she prepared our food, and how different flavors complemented each other. In my teens, she had me start cooking dinner on my own, letting me experiment with different foods, always coming to my rescue when I lost my way.

By the time I moved into my own apartment, I was an excellent home cook. As time passed, however, I drifted away from the culinary arts. Long nights preparing cases for trial or hanging around in bars after work led to more and more restaurants and take out meals. Often, I was so tired when I came home from work, I reached for a menu rather than shop.

Carmen challenged me to do better. When I mentioned how I'd enjoyed cooking in my younger days, she put her foot down, insisting I provide her with home cooked meals when she came over. She shopped one day each week, bringing home all the goods I would need to make dinner for her three nights a week.

Her challenge added a new dimension to my life. I wasn't only tying to keep up with her in bed anymore. I wanted to impress her, surprise her with my culinary creations. I downloaded recipes and bought a couple of cookbooks. I started cooking almost every night to sharpen my skills.

The rewards proved substantial. Carmen's sexual hunger seemed to grow with the meals I fed her. The flavors and aromas heightened all her senses and she brought all those senses into my bedroom, teasing, frustrating and, ultimately, amazing me with the heights of joy she brought me to.

Tonight, sadly was only about me. It was spring break, and Carmen decided to take a rest from her teaching assistant duties by spending the week with her mother on Long Island. I hoped Carmen's sister, Vanessa, might fill the void, as she had a few times over the months, but Vanessa had hopped down to Daytona Beach with her roommates.

"God help the "Girls Gone Wild" producer who runs into her," I chuckled as I pulled my chicken parmesan out of the oven, laying it on a plate to rest. "She might give them enough material for a DVD of her own."

So here I was, playing bachelor for a week. After dinner, I planned to put my feet up and watch the Yankees throw down with the Red Sox. If I wasn't too worn out after that, I might check out whatever soft core skin flick Cinemax was running that night. Suddenly, a series of sharp raps turned my attention to the front door.

Flipping the deadbolt lock, I opened the door to behold my downstairs neighbor Hannah, her arms crossed in front of her, and her strawberry blond curls tumbling down past her shoulders. A bit of cleavage peeked out of her scooped neck pink tee shirt, and her hips hugged a pair of long-legged denim jeans.

"Hi, Hannah. What can I do for you?"

"Um, hi, Manuel. Could I, maybe, talk to you?"

"Of course," I said, stepping aside to allow her into the apartment. "Would you like a glass of wine, or something else?"

"No, thank you, I, oh my God, what have you done in here? It looks so . . . so . . ."

"Clean?" I laughed?

"No, I mean, yes, but," she stammered. "I mean, every time I have come up here, this place looked like a, well, a pigsty. No offense."

"None taken," I chuckled as I pulled a chair away from the dining table and straddled it, facing the back of the chair.

Hannah continued gaping as she sat across from me on the couch.

"How long did it take you to get your place looking this good?"

"I'd love to take the credit," I smiled, "but I had a lot of help. My maid, Carmen, did most of the hard work."

"Maid? You have a maid?"

"Yeah, she's come here a couple of times a week since December. She's totally transformed the place."

"Is she the, um, petite, dark-haired woman I've seen a few times on the stairs?"

"Uh, no, actually, that's Vanessa. She's Carmen's sister. Carmen's my maid, but Vanessa, she's . . . filled in for Carmen a few times, you see, well, its a little complicated."

"I don't need to know the details, Manuel. It's just . . ." she began looking around nervously as her voice trailed off.

"Just what, Hannah?"

"I'm not exactly sure how to, um, say this," she said, fingering the long gold chain hanging around her neck. I golden knot swing at the end of the chain, grazing the cleavage the peeked out of the top of her tee shirt.

"The past few months," she continued, " I have noticed these, uh, women coming up to your apartment several times a week. I would seem them, say hello to them.. They seemed very nice."

"They are very nice." I smiled. "What exactly is wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, exactly," she answered, running her fingers through her curls. "It's just, later, those nights when I would see them, I, well, I could hear."

"Hear? What did you hear?" I asked, my face a mask of confusion.

"You know, I mean, you heard . . . could I have some water?"

"Sure," I smiled, rising from my chair. Grabbing a glass tumbler off a shelf near the sink. I opened the freezer and popped a couple of ice cubes out of a tray. I opened the fridge and poured a glass full of filtered water.

"Excuse me a minute," I said pleasantly, as I covered the chicken with foil and put it back in the oven, drained the pasta, and dumped it into the sauce, covering the pan.

I watched Hannah as I walked toward the couch. She looked jittery, her legs bouncing nervously, her head down. I sat down next to her and offered the glass.

"Here you go," I said soothingly.

"Thanks," she whispered, taking the glass and almost draining it in one long gulp.

"Why are so nervous, Hannah? What do you think you heard up here?"

"You know what I heard! I'm not crazy!" she snapped, rising quickly and walking across the room.

"I just want you to tell me what it is you heard," I said calmly.

"I heard . . . I heard, I heard you having sex with these women!" she finally blurted, her back to me.

"And that . . . disturbs you , Hannah? You never struck me as a prude."

"I'm not disturbed. It's just . . . it's just . . ."

"Just what?"

"Its just . . so loud."

I snorted before I could stop myself.

"Stop it! Don't make fun of me!"

"I'm sorry," I said, raising my hands. "I didn't mean to embarrass you, but I'm not sure what the problem is."

"I don't know," she grunted, starting to pace back and forth in front of the book case.

"For more than four months now, two or three nights a week," she continued as she wore out a path in the floor, "I lay in bed and I listen to these women just . . wailing like insane banshees, screaming their heads off. I mean, people can probably hear it downtown!"

"Well, I'm sorry if we are disturbing your sleep pattern," I offered with a straight face.

"Don't patronize me, Manuel!" she retorted. "For hours, I hear these voices, and I hear you, too, screaming, shouting, saying . . . the most explicit things I've ever heard. I mean, I couldn't believe some of the things I heard."

"Things like . . . what?" I asked, now fascinated with the turn in the conversation.

She stared at me for what seemed like an hour, until she turned away again.

"I mean, they were such, such dirty things."

"I can't really judge what you call dirty unless you can tell me what you heard."

"Well, I mean, you know the types of things people say when they are having sex, you know . . . fuck me, I'm so fucking hot, I'm cumming."

As she spoke, her hands, which had been wringing in front of her slide down her body, over her stomach, down towards her pelvis. I watched, silently.

"Three were so . . . many things," she continued, her hands sliding over her thighs. "I just lay in my bed. It was so loud, I couldn't help but hear. Just laying there . . .listening."

"Just listening?" I asked quietly.

"What?" she said, almost jumping.

"Were you really jut laying there? Laying there, listening to all that rampant sexual depravity? Weren't you inspired to take some kind of. . . action?"

"I don't think-"

"Look at yourself. Your hands, sliding up and down on your body, even as you talk about it! You probably couldn't keep your hands off yourself!"

"That . . that doesn't have anything to do with this!"

"It has everything to do with this!" I aid as I rose from the couch, taking a step toward her. "I'm curious, Hannah, since you've raised the topic. In the nearly five years that you've been living underneath me, I can't recall a single night when I've heard you screaming."

"What? What are you saying?"

"You know exactly what I'm saying! I can't think of a single instance where I've heard you doing anything even remotely sexual. Are you a virgin?"

"How dare you? I don't have to be subjected to cross-examination like this? I'm not one of your criminal clients!"

She stalked toward the door, but I bounced forward, cutting her off in front of the refrigerator.

"Not so fast, my dear." You don't walk in here and start a conversation like this and walk out because you're uncomfortable with it."

"Let me out of here!" she yelled, moving to try and get around me.

"Answer the question!" I yelled back, cutting her off. "Are you a virgin or aren't you?"

"No! No! I'm not a virgin!" she screamed, pushing against my chest, trying to force her way around me.

Grabbing her arms, I pushed Hannah back into the living room.

"So you just don't like sex then, is that it? Or do you only like screaming in other peoples' homes?"

"Stop it! Why are you being so cruel?"

"Why did you come up here?" Why do you want to know about what happens in my bedroom?"

Stared at me for a moment, her arms dropping to her sides, her green eyes wide. Her blonde curls shook as she trembled. Finally, she turned and walked back to the dining table.

"I listened . . . as I lay in bed, I couldn't help but listen, you were so loud," she said, gripping the back of one of the dining chairs to steady herself. "I've never heard anything so . . .powerful, so erotic. Those women, their voices, so wild, almost feral."

"Did it excite you?" I asked, taking a step toward her.

"It . . . it scared me, I could never imagine . . . losing control that way."

"Haven't you ever lost control?" I asked, placing my hands on her shoulders.

"Not like that," she whispered, stiffening as I gripped her shoulders. "I've always needed to be in control, to be in charge."

"No one should have to be in control all the time," I said quietly, as I wrapped my right arm across her chest, between her collar bone and breasts.

She tried to turn, but I held her fast, pulling her back against me, pressing my erection into her buttocks. She sucked in her breath hard as my erect cock pushed against her backside, but a moment later, I felt her push back against me, gently grinding against my bulge.

"All you have to do is let go," I whimpered in her ear as I slid my left hand up and down her side.

"I don't know how to let go," she groaned, her hands slipping off the back off the chair, sliding up and down her thighs.

"Just forget about everything," I said softly, before plating soft kisses along her neck and shoulders. "Forget everything that's got you worried. Forget all the voices in your head. Forget all the people you think you have to please every day. Forget everything, except the one thing you want right now."

"One thing?"

"Tell me, Hannah, what's the one thing you want more than anything else right now?"

"Just one thing?"

"What do you want, Hannah?"

She stood silent for a moment, then she grabbed my arm, pulling it way so she could turn, facing me, standing just inches away.

"I want you . . . I need you, to fuck me. I need you to take that huge cock those girls were screaming about and fuck me. Please, Manuel, please fuck me!"

Throwing my arms around her waist, I pulled Hannah into me, crushing my mouth on hers. He leg slid up the back of my leg, her sandal falling off as she rubbed her foot against the back of my thigh.

Her lips parted, her tongue shooting into my mouth and wrestling with my tongue. Stepping in between her legs, I eased Hannah back until her ass brushed over the top of the dining table. I reached down and grabbed her tee shirt, lifting it up from the bottom, Lifting her arms, Hannah let me slide her shirt off, revealing a pink satin bra, pushing up two small, but perfectly round breasts.

"You don't have to be afraid." I whispered as I pressed my lips along her shoulder.

"I'm not afraid," she groaned as I scraped her skin with my teeth.. "Not a lot."

"I won't hurt you," I said, looking into her eyes. "You live right below me, and I think you can beat me up."

She snorted then fell back on the table, laughing riotously, shaking the dark wood table underneath her.

"I'm sorry," she panted as she caught her breath. "I didn't mean to –"

"Sure you did." I chuckled as I leaned over her. "Laughter is the easiest way of letting go."

I pressed my lips against hers before she could respond. Her arms slipped around my neck. Leaning into her, I ground my bulge against her pelvis. Her legs slid around my waist, pushing against my ass, pulling me into her harder.

"God," she cried out, breaking the kiss, "I can feel it. It feels so big."

"Yu want to see it?" I whispered.

"Yes, yes, please. I want to touch it."

I pushed myself off the table, taking two steps back. Smiling at her, I slowly undid my belt. Slipping it off, I took the belt and slid it over Hannah's head and underneath her back as she lay on the table.. Leaning close to her, I brushed my lips against her chin before kissing her mouth passionately.

"Mmmmmmmm, playing games now?" she asked, her green eyes sparkling.

"Games are another great way of letting goooooooo, oh boy," I gasped as Hannah's hand slid between my legs, firmly grasping my bulge and squeezing.

"I think I'm starting to let go." She giggled in my ear.

"Oh, I think you are just starting to get a grip."

Lifting my hands, I cupped her breasts caressing and squeezing her orbs as her palm rubbed my throbbing rod. Leaning over, I kissed and nibbled the partially exposed breast flesh, making Hannah suck in her breath.

"Ohhhhh," she sighed, sliding her hand up and down my bulge.

As I scraped her tit flesh with teeth, I reached behind her, unhooking her bra and sliding it off and flinging it through the air behind me. He hand tightened around the shaft s my teeth grabbed one of her rock hard nipples and tugged on it.

"Ohhh, God," she cried out, her legs rocking underneath the table. One hand held my cock firmly, stroking it through my slacks, as the other gripped the back of my head, pressing it to her pert round bosom.

"Suck on my tits, Manuel, that feels so good."

Dragging my tongue around her breasts, I flicked both her nipples with my tongue. My hands slid down and unfastened her jeans, yanking them down as she laughed, running her fingers through my black and silver hair. I let her jeans fall off on the floor and spread her impossibly long legs. Her sheer pink panties had a growing wet spot.

"Someone's been thinking naughty thoughts." I grinned at her, my hand pressing against the wet pink fabric, the heel of my hand pushing against the top of her pussy.

"Fuck," she gasped, pushing her hips off the table, pressing her pelvis against my curious hand.

I suckled her tits as my hand slid up and down against her mound, the wetness of her sex starting to seep through the panties, into my palm. Grabbing the sheer material and tugging it to one side, I slide two fingers in between the juicy folds.

"Mmmmm," she moaned, throwing her head back and pushing her hips up. My fingers slid down her dripping slit, finding the entrance to her love hole. I brushed my fingertips across her hole, feeling her body jerk and shudder as I made contact.

"Oh, God, don't tease me, Manuel. My pussy's so hot. I need you to fill it."

I grinned at Hannah as I massaged her right breast. I leaned in and kissed her hard as I sank two fingers deep into her hot fuck hole., enjoying the sharp gasp that came as I invaded her most secret place. Her hips thrust upward to meeting the invading force in her hot pussy. Her juices flowed freely, coating my fingers as I slid them in and out of her sex.

"Jesus." Hannah muttered as she thrust her hips, pushing my fingers deeper into the fire. "It feels so good. God," she groaned, grabbing my arms to pull herself up.

"I want you, Manuel. I want you to fuck me until my head explodes."

Grabbing a handful of her strawberry blond locks. I held her head as I savaged her mouth, pushing my tongue inside. Her fingers dug into my biceps as we kissed, her hips still bouncing against the table, meeting the urgent thrusts of my fingers inside her honey pot.

"Oh, God," she yelled as she broke the kiss, "get out of those clothes. I need to see that magnificent tool those sluts were screaming about."

I grinned as I slowly withdrew my fingers from her dripping pussy. Lifting my digits to my lips, I slid them in my m mouth and sucked the sticky girl juices off with a long, loud slurp.

"You want me to strip so much? Why don't you do it for me?"

Without a word, but with a broad smile, Hannah hopped off the table and knelt on the floor. As she unfastened my jeans, I ran my fingers through her curls, and marveled at the change I was witnessing. My quiet, reserved downstairs neighbor had lost whatever inhibitions had been holding her back, and this was going to be a far less tame night than I was anticipating

Hannah lowered the zipper, and slid her hand inside my jeans.

"Oh my God, its huge," she whispered as her hand slid up and down the length of my erection. "I've never felt a penis like this before."

"Take it out," I groaned, feeling my knees weaken a bit as she caressed my cock

Looking up at me, then back down, Hannah tentatively reached in the flap of my boxer briefs. Her hand felt warm as her fingers curled around the shaft, and I murmured contentedly as my cock pulsed in her grip. Slowly, Hannah withdrew my prick from its sheath.

"Oh, my," she whispered, tugging on the shaft, pulling the foreskin back to reveal the bulbous, pink head. "I can't believe how thick it is."

"Kiss it," I growled. "Put your mouth on it."

Her hand gently tugged on my cock as she leaned in closer. She looked all round the head, as if it she was a judge at the state fair, and I was a prized head of cattle. Finally, she pressed her glossy lips against the shaft, near the base. Kissing her way from the bottom of the shaft, Hannah continued kissing until she reached the head., which she caressed with her tongue. Holding her tongue out flat, she rubbed the head against it, moaning as she worshipped my flesh rod.

"God, baby," I grunted as I watched her getting familiar with my shaft, "you don't have to be afraid of him, he doesn't bite."

"But he does shoot, doesn't he?" she giggled before sucking the head between her pursed lips and collecting my balls in the palms of her hands.

"A joke," I thought to myself as waves of intensely sweet pain washed over me. I was definitely seeing a side of Hannah I hadn't seen before.

Her eyes were closed now, she seemed to be concentrating intensely on pleasuring my prick with her mouth. As she juggled my testicles in her palms, she deliberately swallowed my prick, inch by inch.