Cleaning House


The wind whipped across my face, the frigid February air stinging the back of my neck as I walked home from a night out with my girl friends. It was late on a Friday evening and I was cursing myself for not having simply stayed the night with one of them, but it wasn’t much farther so I pulled my coat tighter around my body and trudged onward past the neighbors darkened houses. I stepped into the driveway opposite my home hoping to get a bit of respite from the unforgiving wind. There was a blue glow emanating from the front picture window and I silently wondered what our neighbor was doing still awake at 11:30 at night. Mr. Jenkins had lived on our street my whole life. A grandfatherly type, he enjoyed sitting on his front porch during the summer months, sipping iced tea and watching the neighborhood activity.

More out of boredom than anything else, I crept forward to the porch steps to look through the window at the large TV screen. The porch steps squeaked under my weight and I stopped, willing them to be silent. I continued to pick my way carefully across the porch. As the screen came into view, I was momentarily shocked at the scene playing out on Mr. Jenkins flat screen TV. My elderly neighbor was watching porn. On the screen, a nude blonde with unnaturally large breasts was straddling a man with enormous biceps. As her globe-like breasts bounced up and down, she was simultaneously fellating another man with a freakishly large penis. As the scene played out I side-stepped my way onto the porch, looking for my neighbor.

I spied Mr. Jenkins seated in his recliner, his eyes half closed as he focused on the screen. He seemed to be enthralled with his movie and I stepped closer, hoping not to be caught. My view was obstructed by the curtains, I could only imagine what he was doing. From what I could see, he was nude and his hand was in his lap. His mouth hung partially open and his tongue snaked out to lick his lips occasionally. As I stood watching I gasped involuntarily, imagining the small moans of pleasure escaping his lips as he pleasured himself.

Despite the cold a warm rush swept over me. A dull ache began in my clit as I imagined, rather than saw, his shaft. I wondered if he was imagining himself fucking the blonde or if he preferred the oral gratification. The blonde continued to bounce as she sucked.

Standing on the porch, my feet grew numb from the cold. I couldn’t seem to break free of the scene, ignoring the freezing weather, the excitement built inside me as I watched the older man’s motions grow frantic. I waited, knowing his climax was near, as his eyes closed and he leaned his head back, the screen forgotten, another wave of excitement passed over me, and I knew he was finished, his hand slowly coming to rest at the top of his thigh. His chest heaving with the breathlessness of release.

I waited a moment and them slowly made my way off of the porch and across the street to my house. It was nearly two in the morning when I finally climbed into bed. My feet tingled as they warmed, the sharp pains a reminder of the time standing on the porch. I fell into a restless sleep and dreamed of Mr. Jenkins.

The next morning at the breakfast table, I yawned as I moved the scrambled eggs around my plate while my mother yammered on about the chores she needed me to do over the weekend. I nodded absently as she ticked off laundry and errands that would take most of my afternoon. All I really wanted was a nap, but I knew that there was no way to convince my mother that I should be excused from the standard weekend chores.

“Here’s the grocery list.” She handed two small squares of paper to me and I glanced at the items on it, trying to decipher her hand writing.

“Why is it broken into two lists?” I asked curious as to the break in our usual routine.

“One is for us, the other list is for Mr. Jenkins across the street.” My ears perked up at the mention of our neighbor. “He’s been trying to find someone to help him out with errands and things, but in the mean time I offered to help him with some errands.” I raised my eyebrows at her.

“You mean you offered my help.” I smiled at her, “I don’t mind, though.”

“You’re a good kid.” She smile back at me, though I doubt if she had seen the movie playing across the street, that she would have allowed me anywhere near the old guy.

I finished my breakfast and showered. Pulling on jeans and a sweater I grabbed my mom’s car keys and set out for the grocery store. Working my way through the aisles, I collected all of the items on both lists, taking care to keep them separated. I checked out and headed back to our neighborhood. I stopped at home first as our list contained a greater number of perishables and then carried Mr. Jenkins’ two bags across the street. Stepping onto the porch, the memory of what I’d seen the night before came rushing into the forefront of my mind and the dull ache in my clit returned. I rapped gently on the door. Mr. Jenkins appeared almost immediately, his gray hair damp from the shower, he was dressed in a blue tee shirt and jeans.

“I brought your groceries,” I smiled at him as he swung the door open and I stepped into the warmth of his home.

“Thanks, Büyükçekmece escort Jade.” He gestured to the kitchen, “Just set them on the table.”

I set the bags down where he indicated and began taking the perishables out without being asked. An idea had been forming in my mind all day.

“Mom says you’re looking for someone to help you out with errands and stuff.” I opened the refrigerator and started placing the items inside.

“Yes,” he was rummaging through the second bag setting aside items for the cupboards. “I figure it’s my birthday gift to myself.”

“I didn’t know it was your birthday.” I turned to face him.

“Sixty-five last week.” He smiled at me, handing the cans of vegetables over the table, “That cabinet right there, dear.” He continued his explanation, “I’m all alone here, no kids, and I really don’t care to spend any more time than I have to going to the grocery or vacuuming the living room. I figure I owe it to myself as a reward for finally retiring and I have the money so…”

I stacked the cans in the cabinet and carefully considered what I was about to say.

“Um, would you consider hiring me?” I asked shyly, still picturing his hand working furiously in the recliner.

“You’d be interested in that kind of work?” He asked, surprised by my interest in cleaning and shopping for him.

“Sure,” I shrugged facing him, “I’m not leaving for school until next fall, and I’ve been looking for a job since the Express closed.” I’d opted to take a year off from school after graduating the previous May, and the retail store I had been working at closed the month before.

“You’re hired.” He laughed gently, “When can you start?”

“I can start today, if you’d like.” I beamed at him, and eyed the dirty dishes in the sink.

“No, no.” He said, “Enjoy today and come back tomorrow morning at 10. You and I will work out a schedule and discuss the pay.” He reached out for a hand shake.

“Thanks, Mr. Jenkins, you won’t regret it.” I smiled at him.

I skipped home and told my mother that Mr. Jenkins was no longer looking for someone to help him out. She seemed pleased, but baffled.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, judging from your room, have you ever even used a vacuum?” She was half teasing.

“This is different, he’s going to pay me.” I laughed and made a mental note to clean up my room, just to be nice.

Sunday morning, I woke and dressed carefully, choosing a pair of faded jeans and a sweater that fight like a second skin. The soft white fabric hugging the curves of my chest, accentuating the small swell of my breasts. The jeans rode low on my hips and I knew that if I reached up or bent over the sweater would ride up to reveal smooth bare skin and hints of my white thong panties would peak out of the waistband of my jeans. Pulling on my favorite worn suede boots, I sprinted across the street and knocked on the door at exactly 10 am.

“Good morning!” Mr. Jenkins opened the door for me, “Right on time.”

He led me into the kitchen and gestured for me to take a seat. He set a slice of coffee cake and glass of juice in front of me.

“So this is what I was thinking,” He began as I sipped my juice, “I need you to come in three days a week to do light housework and then I need you to run errands for me on Saturday.”

“Okay,” I nodded in agreement, picking at the coffee cake in front of me, “Will you have a list for me?”

“Yes, I will leave a list on the kitchen table if I’m not home and on Saturday I’ll give you a list of errands I need done. Groceries, pharmacy and dry cleaner are the three that come to mind, but I’m sure there will be other things along the way.”

“Sounds good.” I smiled brightly at him over the glass of juice.

“Here’s an extra key to the front door, and a spare car key. You can use my car to run the Saturday errands.”

“Okay,” I was a bit surprised at the offer but realized that it made sense since I didn’t have my own car.

“I don’t really care what time you come in, so whatever you prefer is fine. What were you thinking?”

“Well, I don’t really have much to do during the week, so I was thinking I’d come in during the mornings, around 9?” I offered.

“Sounds good,” He sipped his coffee and chuckled, “There’s only me to clean up after so it shouldn’t consume too much of your time. I figure two or three hours a day and $200 a week.”

“Good,” I agreed quickly, “Though I don’t mind if it takes longer.”

“It shouldn’t.” He set the cup down and smiled, “So do we have a deal? Will you be my ‘Girl Friday’?”

“Absolutely.” I smiled at him sweetly.

I left a few moments later with the spare keys and an envelope containing the list of tasks I was to accomplish the following day. Mr. Jenkins explained that he had a doctor’s appointment at nine and would not be able to let me in the next morning. I promised to do a good job and spent the rest of the day cleaning my room to show my mother that I could do the job.

The next morning I let myself into my neighbor’s house and immediately started with the dishes in the sink, there were only a few and as I loaded Çatalca escort bayan the dishwasher I took in the quiet of the unoccupied house. Mr. Jenkins kept the house at a tropical temperature and I made a mental note to dress in layers as the sweat started to trickle down my chest from the heat.

Once the kitchen had been set to rights, I moved down the list into the living room, dusting the giant flat screen TV. I dusted the shelves below, taking in the DVD titles, though I didn’t see any that suggested the type of pornographic images I’d seen. Smiling, I wondered where he’d hidden them. I continued to sweat as I worked the vacuum over the carpet and dusted the end tables, fluffing his couch pillows and straightening the magazines on the table beside his recliner. I looked for evidence of his self-pleasure in the form of stains, but there were none.

I scrubbed the toilets, wiped down the counters and mirrors. As I worked my way through his house I snooped, looking for the pornography that I knew he had and any other clues to his sexual desires and activities. In the bedroom I found several copies of men’s magazines in the drawer next to the bed. The pages were filled with lusty blondes and buxom brunettes spread eagle and shaved bare while faceless men were either fucking them senseless or being sucked by them. Their faces frozen in abject pleasure. In the drawer with the magazines was a tube of lubricant and a box of tissues. My clit throbbed at the thought of my neighbor stroking himself as he flipped through the pages of the magazine. I put the magazines back where I’d found them and continued cleaning the bedroom. I changed the sheets, as the list indicated and tossed the dirty linens into the washing machine.

It took me the better part of three hours to finish the list and Mr. Jenkins still hadn’t returned, so I went home.

On Wednesday, I noticed the absence of his car, so I let myself into the house and found a short note on the table outlining the tasks he wished done and set about my work. Half-way through the list, he came home, whistling as he entered the kitchen.

“Finding everything okay?” He asked cheerfully.

“Uh huh, I think so.” I continued mopping the floor, dismayed that I would be unable to continue my surreptitious search for the DVD collection as he grabbed a water from the fridge.

“You did an excellent job on Monday,” He complimented and I stood pushing the stray hair back from my face.

“Thanks!” I smiled at him, my forehead damp from exertion, I felt my tee shirt sticking to my skin as he gazed over me.

“I think this will work out fine.” He seemed genuinely happy with my work.

I finished my work in silence as he sat in his recliner reading the paper.

“See you Friday,” I chirped as I gathered my things and let myself out.

Friday dawned bright and clear and when I let myself into Mr. Jenkins house, I called out a hello to let him know I was there.

“Be right there!” He called from the rear of the house. I immediately stripped off my sweatshirt, the temperature in the house was stifling. He found me a moment later in the kitchen, he was still wearing his bathrobe, though his hair was wet as if he’d just gotten out of the shower.

“Sorry,” he blushed as he pulled the robe tighter around himself, “I over slept this morning.”

“Do you want me to come back later?” I offered.

“No, it’s fine.” He waved my offer away, “I’ll just go get dressed and you can start in here.”

I went about the task of dishes first and by the time I finished loading the dishwasher he was back and fully clothed. He grabbed his car keys and said he was going out for breakfast with friends and hoped to be back in about an hour.

As soon as he left, I picked up on the task of finding his movies. Half an hour later, I hit pay dirt in the guest room. Hidden in a box on the closet shelf was a collection of movies with titles like “Slutty College Girls” and “Wet and Wild Teens”. There were fifteen movies in all and anther set of magazines promising “barely legal” girls wearing short pleated skirts and not much else. Feeling triumphant as I flipped through the pages, I felt the familiar stirrings of need between my legs. My clit throbbed and I wondered what Mr. Jenkins thought when he watched his movies. Putting the box back where I’d found it, I finished cleaning the guest room and was stashing the vacuum in the closet when he returned from breakfast.

“Perfect timing,” I said as I picked up my sweatshirt from the back of the chair, “I just finished.”

“Excellent,” He said, and pulled his wallet out from his pocket. “Here is the list of errands for tomorrow, whenever you want you can come over and get the car. I don’t have anywhere to go, so there’s no need to worry about that.” He handed me the list and a wad of cash.

“I’ll probably go first thing in the morning,” I promised, “The grocery store is less crowded then.”

“Whenever,” He smiled at me, “And when you get here, I’ll have your paycheck ready.”

I went home wondering if he’d be playing his movies that night.

I backed Bill’s car out of his driveway at 9 thing the next Escort Esenler morning, stopping at the dry cleaners first, I continued to the pharmacy and picked up his prescriptions. The grocery store was mostly deserted and I made quick work of the list. I made a final stop at the post office on my way back to Mr. Jenkins house. I let myself in and went straight to the kitchen to put away the groceries. I was bent over loading the perishables into the fridge when Mr. Jenkins sensed rather than saw him come into the kitchen. A few moments passed before he spoke and I wondered if he was admiring my ass.

“Hi, Jade.” He called casually as moved to table to inspect the grocery bags.

“Hi, Mr. Jenkins.” I stood and moved to the counter where I had placed the dry goods. “Would you like some coffee?”

“That would be great.” He replied speaking to my back as I reached up to put the cans away, my tee shirt riding up to reveal the creamy smooth skin of my back.

I turned to face him, his eyes passing over my bust and hips. He smiled self consciously and I felt a rush of gratification as his gaze lingered over my petite breasts. I poured a mug of coffee for him and he settled into a chair, chatting amiably as I worked my way around the kitchen storing his purchases.

Finished, I sat down across from him at the table, and he set an envelope down.

“For you, my dear.” He laughed, “I have to say, you’ll make someone a wonderful wife some day.”

“Thanks,” I grinned at him, “I think.”

“It is most definitely a compliment,” He assured me, “I am pleased with the job you’ve done this week and if you are available, I’d like to talk about increasing your hours – and the pay of course.”

“I don’t know how much cleaner this place can get.” I looked around wondering exactly what else he could need me to do.

“Can you cook?” He asked with a teasing smile.

“Actually, I can.” I brightened at the thought of cooking meals for him.

“Excellent!” He smiled, “I was thinking you could come Tuesdays and Thursdays and make a few meals up, and just store them in the fridge for me. For say an extra $100 a week?”

“That works.” I nodded, “Would it be alright if I came in the afternoons on those days?”

“That’s fine, Jade.” He patted my hand, “I think this will work out well for both of us.”

“I think so too, Mr. Jenkins.” I stood to leave.

“Oh, and Jade?” He said, “Call me Bill.”

“Okay,” I added softly, “Bill, I’ll see you Monday morning.”

That night at dinner I told my mom, how happy Bill was with my work, and that he’d asked to increase my hours. She seemed surprised, but genuinely pleased that I was so willing to help him out.

“That’s great!” She gaped at the increased salary too, “And it’s good that he has some company over there. I always worry that he’s lonely.”

I went to bed thinking about the DVDs and hoping I’d have another chance to snoop through them. The next three weeks went by in a blur, I cooked, cleaned and shopped for Bill. Most of the time he sat in his recliner and read, but sometimes we chatted as I worked. He told me about his years in Korea as an infantryman and then about his years as an investment consultant for a major US insurance company. In return I talked to him about my friends and the classes I was taking at the local community college. I was rarely alone during those weeks and as the weather started to warm and the spring flowers burst out of the thawing earth, I began to wonder if I’d ever get a chance to snoop through his magazines again.

On the second Friday of March, I let myself into the house to find it echoed with emptiness. In the kitchen was a note from Bill stating that he had an early meeting out of town with friends and that he wouldn’t be home until late that afternoon. At first I felt a rush of excitement at the prospect of being able to rummage through his things looking for his hidden secrets, but after the initial rush, I realized I was disappointed that Bill wouldn’t be there to pass the time with me. I’d grown fond of him and his stories. Leaving the note on the table I set about my usual Friday chores, stripping the sheets from the bed and dusting the bedside table. I opened the drawer and immediately noticed the tube of lubricant had been greatly depleted in the month that I had been working there. A bit surprised, I wondered how often Bill was going at it. A crazy thought began to form in my mind, but I pushed it away almost immediately. There were new magazines in the drawer too, the covers boasting young bare models and promising “lusty lick fests”. I thumbed through them, my heart pounding as I listened for any sound of Bill returning home. Sighing, I put the magazines back where I’d found them and continued my domestic chores. As I cleaned, I wondered what it would take to get Bill’s attention. For the past month I had been carefully flirtatious with him, dressing just so, and making sure that whatever task I was performing, would reveal as much of my body as I could without coming onto him directly. I was at a loss as to what to do next. If it had been any other man or guy my own age, I probably would have given up by now, but Bill was different. He was so much older that I worried that the direct approach would result in my immediate dismissal from my job. And even worse, the humiliation of being rejected outright. Instead, I stewed and planned. I finished my tasks and took the list of errands for the following day with me when I left. Bill still had not returned.

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