Nine To Six

Every day, I stay until after five. Why would I do that when everybody else punches out and heads home to their wife and kids? Simple. It's because of Maria.

Maria is the maid who cleans my floor of the office complex. I know I know, a Mexican cleaning lady named Maria, what else is new? She's not skinny or young or blond, she doesn't speak perfect English, and she's probably got a husband and several kids. But I like her for some reason.

I guess it all started the one day I had a big deadline and I was going crazy trying to make it during the days. I hate working overtime but what else was I supposed to do? So just that once I called my girlfriend - who IS skinny and young and blond and all that typical stuff - and told her I'd be an hour late, then got down to business. Maybe 20 minutes later Maria walked in. She started emptying the trash can before she noticed me and ended up dropping it all over the floor because I startled her. Of course everybody else was gone so that's understandable! While she was patting her chest and laughing at herself, she flashed me this cute embarassed smile... and I felt my pulse speed up. No real reason, she didn't wink at me, she wasn't wearing anything skimpy. I just liked her smile.

She picked the trash up and left, and I went back to work. But then I couldn't stop thinking about her. I didn't get much work done because I was wondering how I'd never noticed her (it was only later I realized that it was because she cleaned when everybody was gone). I still got enough done that I got caught up. And I didn't see her again for another week or two, when I stayed late for a similar reason.

This time, she noticed me before she picked up the trash. I waved and she smiled and said "Hello." I said the same, and she said "Excuse me please", but this time she went about her cleaning while I was there. I think the first time she had been too embarassed because I startled her so she finished the other offices before getting to mine. I slogged through paperwork while watching her out of the corner of my eye; she ran one of those non-powered sweepers over the floor, emptied the trash, wiped down the windows. Every time she stood on her tiptoes to get the highest part of the pane I found myself smiling. She seemed determined not to use a stepstool or a chair. And she got it, just barely.

After a while it turned into a routine. Partly I had more work to do in the company but I'll admit it was because I secretly wanted to see Maria. I say she's not skinny but she's not big a house, just very plump and curvy. I say she's not young but she's only a few years older than me. And her non-blond hair curls very nicely at her temples - the rest of it is pulled back into a bun which I'm sure she takes down at the end of the day. Maybe not everybody would say she's beautiful, but there's something about her I like.

After the first few times we'd talk a little, ask how each other was and how our days had been. In a few weeks I knew her about as well as anybody else in the office, which wasn't all that well since we tend to mostly work in our cubicles but still much better than I knew any of the other maintenance/janitorial workers. More than acquaintences but not quite friends, in that area.

At first, it was just that I thought she was pretty and nice and ended there. But then I started noticing she was wearing nicer clothes. Not expensive, but she had been wearing sweats and stuff like that like you'd expect somebody to wear when they're cleaning. I remember the air conditioning was on the blink one day and she was sweating all over the place, and she said something about needing to wear something lighter... and it was after that she started wearing close-fitting shirts and leggings and sandals. Technically I don't think she was supposed to wear sandals because it's against policy but they don't hold the cleaning staff to that as strictly I've noticed.

That's when I started thinking about her as not just pretty, but sexy. I didn't say anything about it but I thought it. Now when she strained to reach the top of the window I watched her round ass jiggle and smiled to myself for a new reason. When she bent to pick up the trash can I looked down her cleavage; not really even on purpose, I just couldn't help seeing it because her knockers are so enormous. Her shirts aren't even that lowcut but they don't have to be. And the whole time we would make a little small talk, or we'd both just work in silence for a while, either one.

It built up slowly. First I had a few "good" dreams about her, which I shrugged off. Then I started thinking about her sometimes when I was with my girlfriend, unintentionally because she was on my mind but then I'd intentionally imagine it was Maria I was bending over the bed, it was Maria sucking on me. Once while my girlfriend was out of town for a few days I even looked at a bunch of Latina porn on the computer and pretended they were pictures of Maria. I found myself really turned on by that.

One day she came in wearing white leggings and a red shirt, no more low cut than usual. As we were talking she told me that she was going out for a "special evening" or as she said "an especial evening" after she finished. I quickly realized that was true because I could see through the white material that she had on thong underwear, and through her shirt that she was wearing no bra. Her huge nipples were pretty visible; let's just say the air conditioner was in perfect working order and that I was glad.

That was the first time I felt myself getting hard while she was there in the office. Never had I been so thankful for that desk! Maria picked up the trash and I saw even more flesh than usual; she cleaned the top of the window and I saw the thong making its way further up her crack. It was all I could do not to touch myself or make some kind of happy noise. She seemed to notice I was acting strange but didn't say anything, she probably didn't realize that it had anything to do with what she was wearing.

As soon as she left I finished myself off; it only took about one minute, which was the fastest I've done that since I was in junior high.

Every time she came in after that I got hard automatically. Most times I hid it well and didn't even pay much attention, and only once or twice did I do anything about it after she left. My girlfriend began to laugh about how I was always horny when I came home from work. She didn't know why though.

This went on for about a month. I looked forward to the end of my day when I'd see Maria and feel that excitement. She always had a smile for me, too, and most of my conversations with her ended up being more interesting than the ones with my other coworkers. But one day that changed a little.

Maria came in and I got hard as usual. She was wearing those same white leggings but with a purple blouse. She ran the floor-sweeper and I watched her boobs sway slightly. I think it got caught on something, because she bent over to untie it and granted me a beautiful view of her rear - but then she tripped over something and yelled as she hit the floor.

"Are you all right?" I asked as I ran over and helped her up. She nodded, but there was a little blood coming from her arm, some tiny scratch. I went back and got her a tissue to dab at it, then asked again if she was okay.

"I'm fine, Senor. Don't worry too much."

She was giving me a funny look. It was only then I realized I was still hard. We both kind of looked at it, and she smiled again like she didn't know what else to do but smile. So I gave her a very brief pat on the arm and told her to be more careful, then ran to sit behind my desk again.

I was caught. She was going to report me to management. Worse, to the police. Everything was over for my life; if they did arrest me I'd probably never get another job, I'd lose my girlfriend for sure, and it would all be over. She kept looking over at me as she finished her work, and I noticed her hands shook a little. Then she left.

All night I worried what would happen. The next day I thought about not staying late, but in the end I wanted to so much that I did in spite of the risk. She came in at the same time as usual, and she was wearing gray leggings and a white blouse with flower patterns. I was surprised she came into the office at all let alone wearing the same things as last time. We talked like we usually did, but there was a certain gleam in her eye. Like maybe she just thought it was funny and didn't think I was a terrible person. I'd take funny over terrible.

But while she cleaned, she watched me out of the corner of her eye. I spent a great deal of energy trying to pretend I was working so she wouldn't think I was watching her too. She even looked up while bending over to get the trash, and I saw her look down her own cleavage as if she'd never realized how much I could see. But we didn't talk about it or otherwise acknowledge that anything was wrong, and then she waved and left.

So I relaxed. The next few times were like that, slightly strained versions of how it used to be. But then I noticed things changing.

The next time she came in, I smelled perfume. I asked her about it, and she'd said one of her aunts gave it to her or something. She didn't even bother to explain why she was wearing it while cleaning; I know most women wouldn't waste perfume when they were just going to sweat it off and shower the rest away when they got home, no matter how cheap or expensive it was. I also noticed that for the first time since before she caught me, she wasn't wearing a bra again. Maybe she was teasing me about it. Or maybe she was just teasing me.

She bent much longer over the trash than usual. Then she squatted down to mess with the sweeper and spread her legs as far as she could while doing it. I'd been determined not to get hard, but I couldn't help it. By the time she was finishing up her cleaning I was bursting to finish.

That's when she came over to the desk and sat on the corner of it, wiping her forehead with a cleaning cloth. "Whew. Ai dios mio, I get so heated doing these things."

I instantly thought this was some crazy fantasy coming true, but I slapped myself down. That really was crazy; that kind of stuff doesn't happen to real people. "I'll bet you do."

"You have it nice, Senor Blanco." This is what she'd been calling me since we both observed one day that I had absolutely no tan in spite of a week-long vacation in Hawaii. "You sit behind a nice desk in a comfortable chair all day and play with papers. I would give my father's cojones for this life."

"I know what you mean. I'm pretty lucky."

"You don't even move from the desk when I come in. You could be wearing a pirate leg and I would not know." I laughed when I realized she meant a peg leg. Then she paused thoughtfully, trying to put her words just right. "Very true, you could do anything under there and I would not know. But I have to run around cleaning your room here. Ahh..." She threw up her hands as if to say "some people have all the luck" and left for the day.

That definitely sounded like she was talking about how hard I had been that day she saw me. Maybe I was wrong but how could I know for sure? It kept me wondering all weekend. Monday I knew for sure.

I saw her out in the hallway through my window, she was wearing the usual leggings and shirt. Then she cleaned the neighboring office and I forgot about it until she knocked and came in. But my jaw almost hit the desk when I saw what she was suddenly wearing.

"I am sorry about my clothes, Senor Blanco, but I am going to excersize with a friend after work is over. Please do not tell the boss I am not in the correct clothes, okay?"

"Okay," I managed to say. She was wearing tiny green gym shorts and a white sports bra. That's it; not even any shoes. I could see her other clothes in a pile on the cart out in the hall along with both the old sandals and a pair of sneakers. It could have been true... just as easily as it could have been an excuse for her to wear that. But if she wasn't really going to the gym, then she was wearing it for me. I couldn't believe that. It was tempting but I couldn't.

On the other hand, going to the gym was no reason for her to have taken her hair down but she had. The black curls framed her pleasant face nicely and fell almost to her shoulders. She grinned at me and reached for her sweeper.

That fast I was already completely hard and she hadn't even started cleaning yet. I watched her body move as she moved the sweeper over the floor, watched the back of her thighs ripple, the muscles in her calves flex. Without thinking about it I reached under the desk and touched it, then stroked it through my pants. She glanced over at me while she swept but didn't blink or flinch or make it obvious that she knew what I was doing. She asked how my day had been and I asked the same, and all the time I rubbed myself and strained to keep my voice from shaking too much.

Then I asked how things were going for her and she told me, "Not so good. My boyfriend, he broke it off with me."

"Really? That's too bad. What happened if it's not too personal?"

She sighed as she switched the sweeper out for her cloth and the window cleaner. "He thinks I am interested in other men than him. Maybe someone where I work. I tell him he is loco, but does he listen? Pah!" She winked at me. "So then I tell him that if he keeps it up I may find someone at work to be interested in, comprende?"

I nodded, flashing her a grin as I felt my dick throb under my hand. "Did it work?"

"No. I think it will, but it does not; he tells me I am dead to him now and that I must get my things out of his apartment and go back to mine. Lucky I did not move to live with him when he asked or I would have no apartment to go back to!"

"Sounds like a real idiot if he got rid of you because he THINKS you're cheating. Especially if he didn't have any proof."

She nodded, eyes wide. "Yes, this is exactly what I am saying to him. But who can say how his mind works?" Then she turned around and grabbed her boobs - and I almost choked on my own tongue. "Look at me! Am I not attractive enough woman? Does he think those ladies like me are lying around at the dollar stores?"

I couldn't help it; I unzipped. Maybe I wouldn't have if I didn't already know that those slacks had pretty quiet zippers and that it for sure wouldn't make any sound. "You are definitely attractive, don't worry about that part. He doesn't know what he's missing."

She gave me a shrewd look. It didn't last very long but I wonder what exactly went through her mind. Then she smirked and said, "You do not miss it; you are a smart man. I wish other men were smart like you. But now I go back to cleaning."

It was a dream come true all right. Now when she strained to reach the top of the window I caught flashes of her plump buttocks, saw her calf muscles clench and her toes dig into the carpet. Once she dropped her rag and bent to pick it up, and I wasn't sure she really needed to bend from the waist but I was glad she did when I saw not only a little of her ass but a few curly pubes peeking out. Then she bent over the trash can and I realized for the first time just how huge her boobs really are; I didn't see as much cleavage as usual but I saw plenty of the rest.

Part of me knew I was enjoying this too much but I couldn't stop myself. She was showing off for me. Even if it wasn't true it sure looked enough like it that it might as well be true. She was collecting her things to go when she turned and said, "Wait. Pick up the things on your desk."

"Huh?" I said. Then I cleared my throat and asked, "Why is that?"

Her knowing grin was a little too knowing for my safety but all she said was, "I don't clean your desk because you are always here, working like a dog. Today we clean it. You take the papers off and I will clean."

Unbelievably, with my dick still hard and hanging out of my pants I cleared off the top of my desk for her, making sure I didn't wheel back far enough that she could see it. She watched smiling as she shifted her rag from hand to hand. When I took the computer mouse off at last she said, "Okay, are you ready?"

That was too specific. She knew what I had been doing or she wouldn't have asked if I was "ready" for her to clean it when we could both see the desk was already clear. I put both my hands on the arms of my chair casually, letting one hand wind up in my lap. "Yeah, thanks."

"De nada. Okay." Then she started wiping it down with me right there! I pumped harder and harder, trying to keep my whole body steady except for my hand, and she cleaned slower than I'd ever seen anybody clean, almost stroking the desk like it was a pet. Then I saw that her nipples were getting so hard that I could see them through the sports bra, which looked like it was pretty well padded; my girlfriend has a few of those. Her smile was shy, like the first time I'd seen her.

"Hold on," she whispered, and my hand froze; I was almost done and she was telling me to stop. "There is a smudge on this clock. I'll get it, okay?"

The clock was on the wall above the left side of my desk. My jaw fell open as she crawled up onto it and began polishing the clock with her ass practically in my face. And let me tell you, with it that close to me I could even smell her pussy over her perfume, and she was horny all right. I'm no big stud but I've dated enough to recognize that smell.

"Make sure you get it clean so you don't have to do it again," I said trying to tell her that I wanted her to give me a while.

"Okay. You can hold me steady?"

My heart jumped into my throat. She had to know what I was doing, and she wanted me to touch her? I put my hand on her foot and felt a shock go up my arm; I was really touching Maria. Her skin felt so smooth, even the rougher skin there felt amazing.

"Higher." I moved my hand to her calf. "Higher, Senor, that won't help me balance too much!" From there I felt bold enough that I moved my hand to the back of her thigh, holding it right under her butt. God did it feel great! She let out a tiny gasp, but then she said, "Muy bueno, that's better! Now hold me still while we finish this."

"You got it." Then I started working on myself harder than ever while she cleaned the clock. Her breath was speeding up but she still didn't turn around to look at me or anything. Then about the time I was almost finished I noticed a drip rolling down her thigh. She let out a little squeak of shame but still didn't do anything about it. I casually used my thumb to pick it up and keep it and she let out another gasp and shivered. Everything got to be too much, and I came all over, making a huge mess and letting out a few grunts that she politely ignored.

"Well," she said in a shaky voice as she sat back on her feet with me barely moving my hand out of the way in time. "Your clock is okay now?"

"Yeah," I said after I swallowed, hoping I wasn't sweating too much. Her nipples were still so hard.

"Do you have any mess under your desk that... you want me to clean?" Her voice was quiet when she asked that, like she was nervous or scared, but I don't think she was scared. Just concerned.

"No, that's okay," I said with a smile. "You already helped me with my cock- I mean, CLOCK - and that's more than you were supposed to so thank you."

"De nada, Senor Blanco. I am happy to." She climbed back down from my desk, then glanced at the surface and froze. I looked too and saw a few drops. "Oh goodness, I missed that? Here." She bent over and got a kleenex from my box and dabbed up the drops, then handed it to me. "My trash is full, I'm sorry. You can take this and get rid of it for me?"

"Sure," I said with a grin. That would be going into a plastic baggie that I would keep in a secret spot in my briefcase. "Always glad to help you, Maria."