The Cleaner Pt. 01

MID-MORNING

After breakfast, I took a shower. I felt dirty and couldn't believe what Carla had persuaded me to do. I felt unclean. Last night, I thought, as the refreshingly warm water cascaded over me, I must have been unhinged. Carla caught me off-guard. It was that sexy vintage underwear that did it. And then she practically forced me to pretend her vibrator was some hunky black guy fucking her into oblivion. And boy, did she enjoy it. Fucking slut. If I'm not careful she'll walk all over me and be able to do practically anything she wants to me. I need to take back control. I wear the trousers around here.

I got out the shower and it was only then that I discovered, lying on Carla's side of the bed, the note she'd left for me. It must have fallen off the duvet onto the floor.

My initial reaction was SICK SLUT. But then I felt my cock becoming swollen again and I grabbed a box of tissues, sat on the bed naked and powered up Carla's laptop and clicked on the tab marked DEE. I found an image of the sexy MILF with cum all over her tits. She had a big grin on her face, and I found myself, once more, imagining that was Carla. How would I feel if some hunk came all over my hot naughty wife's breasts? Annoyed? Angry? Upset? Would I fly into a rage? Possibly, but I couldn't deny that the prospect was not as repulsive as it should be. In fact, sick as fuck though it undoubtedly was, the idea was actually making me hard.

It was like Carla had used some voodoo on me. She'd cast an erotic spell on me and I was struggling to resist her charms.

The morning flew over. I spent most of that time looking at hundreds of images of the sultry and extremely hot MILF that was Dee. All the time imagining she was Carla. One image showed Dee with a giant cock sandwiched in between her magnificent breasts. Again I pictured Carla doing the same and I felt my cock begin to throb and moan for relief.

I also felt this ridiculous temptation to look at some crossdressing porn. Carla's foray into such salacious territory had piqued my interest. Ordinarily such prurient pursuits would have left me cold, but there was something not just titillating about seeing a guy in panties and stockings, there was something of forbidden fruit about it. I had zero interest in men. I wasn't even the slightest bit bi-curious, but guys in panties? Somehow that felt different. I knew I was heading deeper and deeper into raunchy territory, but with every click of another tab, with every click of another image of a guy with a big stiff meaty cock in panties I felt hypnotised.

I came across a picture of a middle aged guy in white lace panties, matching camisole and beige stockings. He was bending over a settee on all fours. I love the doggy style position, it always make me feel carnal. At first, it was really difficult to ascertain that this was a guy, but I knew it was because I'd clicked on Carla's sissy faggot tab (I was shocked my hot naughty wife was even remotely interested in such things). I clicked on the next image and the guy's huge cock was clearly visible. It was dripping pre-cum. I knew if he was in the room bending over the bed I'd want to fuck him. That thought alone made me realise I was in all sorts of trouble.

I clicked on another image of him, this time wearing black panties and black stockings, again bending over, and suddenly I found myself starting to desire him. I knew it was ridiculous. I knew if he was wearing male clothes I wouldn't find him remotely sexy, but in those panties and stockings, striking that sassy pose, I felt my lust for him go into overdrive.

The more images I looked at, the more I started yearning for a big fat cock in panties. Lost in a sea of perversion I lost all track of time. Then I heard the front door open. Shit! I thought Carla had come home early again. I quickly closed the laptop and wrapped a towel around my waist shuffling into the bathroom and putting some more water on my hair to make it seem like I'd just got out of the shower.

Then I heard a feminine voice calling my name in an unfamiliar accent:

"Hello, Daniel? This is Manuela the new cleaner. Where would you like me to start?"

The new cleaner, I'd clean forgot (if you'll pardon the pun), that she was starting today.

"Oh, erm, hi Manuela. Can you start in the kitchen. I'll be right down."

"No problem," I'd heard Manuela holler back in that sultry - must be Spanish or Portuguese I reasoned - husky, voice. Despite the fact that I was now ridiculously turned on and was struggling to convince by stiff cock to return to its flaccid state, I was actually looking forward to meeting Manuela. Carla had said I'd find her not only very good at her job, but very attractive. I didn't know whether she was teasing me or not. But I was about to find out.

I strolled into the kitchen in a pair of shorts and a polo top. I stopped dead in my tracks. Like a proverbial cliche, Manuela was stretching over the sink cleaning the windows in a French maid's out fit, black fishnet stocking tops and the briefest glimpse of a pair of black cotton and lace panties clearly in view. Her ass was about the same size as Carla's - huge, in other words - and about as sexy. I knew I was drooling, but couldn't stop looking.

Eventually, Carla, sensing my presence, turned around and obviously caught me gawping.

"Oh hello, Daniel. I didn't know you had come downstairs. You must have got quite the eyeful." I liked Manuela immediately. Not only was Carla right - she WAS extremely attractive and sensual - she was fun and polite and straight and daring.

"Erm, yes sorry about that. I didn't mean to catch you off guard so to speak."

"With my sexy little French number and my tushy, panties and stockings all on display giving you a one to one can can performance?"

"Exactly," I muttered, as the bulge from my cock returned with interest.

"Can I make you a drink?" I asked, changing the subject. "And a sandwich? I was just about to make myself some lunch."

"How about I do that for you? I could be your starter, if you wish?"

Fuck, this was escalating quickly, I thought. I needed to get out of the kitchen as quickly as possible. I was finding Manuela dazzling and alluring, and I was increasingly feeling randy.

"Tempting though that is, Manuela, I'm not sure my wife, Carla, would like that very much."

"What if I told you, she gave me permission to seduce you?"

"What? Seriously?" Surely not, I thought. Carla would go ape if I cheated on her.

"You can call her if you like? But, that would be wasting her time, mine and yours. And all I want to do is play with you."

Manuela voice was becoming more and more sassy, her movements were erotic, and suddenly she was pressing herself up against me. I was leaning on the fridge, metaphorically trying to cool down, but it wasn't working. Manuela had me hot under the collar. And that's when I felt it. The unmistakable pulsating of a cock that is fully aroused. Except, it wasn't mine. It was Manuela's.

Carla had played a blinder. If she really had set me up, and I knew 100% now that she had, she caught me completely unawares. The images of all those crossdressers I'd been looking at flashed through my mind again and I knew I was undone. I felt a burning lust for Manuela or whatever her/his real name was.

"I can see you want me, Daniel, and your naughty wife wants me to fuck you. So shall we take this upstairs?"

Without further ado Manuela grabbed my hand and led me to the bedroom.