Naked Houseboy & his BBW Boss Ch. 05

*Part 5 of an ongoing story...

"Let's discuss compensation," she had said. I couldn't believe it. The job was mine! I was about to be a live-in naked houseboy for this woman whom I'd only just met. My head was still spinning as she pitched her opening offer.

"First we need to remember that you won't be paying rent here. In addition, I'll be covering the cost of all grocery shopping. In other words, room and board is at no cost to you. Now, given that I can't write 'naked houseboy' on my tax return, I'd like to pay you in cash. If that's a problem for you, we can work something out that's on the books. But naturally, that would result in a lower net for you."

"No, no, cash is fine," I said, trying to sound accommodating.

"Good," she smiled. "Great." She scratched at her chin for a moment, as if in thought. "So I was thinking two-thousand a month. And like I said, that's already on top of room and board. How does that sound to you?"

She looked hard into my eyes, playing the role of the diligent negotiator. I was on the spot. Unbelievable, I thought to myself. This whole time, I'd never thought about money. It was all about just being naked and masturbating. But this was a job interview in the end. Of course she would have to pay me something. I spoke absentmindedly, trying to gather my thoughts.

"Well, to be honest," I said slowly. "Money's not so important to me. I mean, I worked very hard at my last job so that I could retire young with money in the bank."

"I see..." She raised an eyebrow.

What did I actually want from this? I mean really? And just in that moment, my eyes, flitting this way and that, searching for an answer, caught sight once more of her enormous breasts. I could feel my balls swelling. "You've already told her about your love of masturbation." The words sounded as a whisper in the back of my head. "Go for broke!" Somebody, something, was trying to send me a message. Or better to say perhaps, I was trying to send myself a message.

"I have a counteroffer," I heard myself say.

"A counteroffer?" She looked intrigued.

"Yeah," I nodded with growing confidence. "Instead of paying me cash directly, how about a porn budget?"

"A porn budget?" she repeated.

"Yeah. I mean, look, I'm already retired with plenty of money in the bank. I'm not here for a payday. And also, I'm kind of enjoying being 'off the grid,' as it were. So my counteroffer is, you take out a credit card in your name. Two-thousand dollar limit. And instead of paying me cash, I can use the card for porn purposes."

A number of looks passed across her face at my proposal. Surprise. Intrigue. Curiosity. But not irritation. Far from it.

"You're suggesting that I take out a credit card in my name. For you. For porn. And every month, every balance statement, the only thing that's going to show up is your porn?"

"That's my counteroffer. I mean, you already offered two-thousand cash. What's the difference to you if it's cash or credit?" I smiled naively.

"The difference is," she said firmly, "one goes on my credit report and one doesn't." She wasn't annoyed. Just pensive. She leaned back over the table, folding her hands on the glass tabletop, her breasts coming to rest atop her hands.

"Here's my counteroffer to your counteroffer. I'll take out the credit card. But it will be with a fifteen-hundred dollar limit, not two thousand."

"I can live with that," I smiled. "So we have a deal?"

"Not so fast. First, tell me. Do you really think you can burn through $1,500 a month on porn?"

"Seriously?" Now it was my turn to be incredulous. "Between pay sites, web cams, phone sex - "

"Phone sex? You do that?" She was clearly surprised.

"Oh, my god, yeah," I said like it was nothing. "It's basically interactive porn. What's not to love? Anyway, yeah, I could easily burn through two grand a month on porn, to say nothing of fifteen-hundred."

"I see, I see." She drummers her fingertips on the table top. I noticed that her eyes had drifted downward. She was eyeing my penis through the glass. Not with sexual desire, but with curiosity. Finally, she looked up at me.

"OK," she began. "Final offer. I'll give you sixteen-hundred a month. But." She paused. "I want full access."

"Full access? What do you mean?"

"I mean," she said with not a little self-satisfaction, "full access. If I'm going to pay for your porn, I want full access. Browser histories, usernames and passwords. If you call a phone sex line, I reserve the right to pick up and listen in. If you put a cam on yourself, I reserve the right to watch. There will be no porn in this house that I don't know about." She leaned in closer, which had the effect of pushing her enormous breasts together. This was not something I could say no to. Whether that was her design, I'll never no,

But she needn't have made any effort. The idea of sharing all of my porn with this woman was exhilarating. No more secrets. Not even the pretense to secrets. I loved the idea.

"You have a deal!" I nearly shouted.

"I'm so pleased," she smiled warmly. And she rose once more out of her chair. Leaning across the table, she stretched her hand to me. I took it and shook it. And as we shook hands, she started to giggle.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing, just..." she laughed. "You have a very firm grip! But I guess that's to be expected." She winked, over a furtive glance between my legs. "Anyway," she said regaining control of herself. "Congratulations. You've got the job!"