My Housekeeper - Sex Stories

My Housekeeper

... to meet me.

"Well, wanker, what have you done that I don't have to worry about?" she inquired.

"I've cleaned the whole upstairs," I announced proudly.

"Let's see," she said and began an inspection tour of each room.

She remained silent throughout. Appeared to be taking mental notes.

"I'll call you to join me downstairs when I've finished cleaning," she announced abruptly and hustled down the stairs.

True to her word, in about an hour I heard her call. "Wanker! Come join me."

I found her lounging in the recliner, in the recreation room. The gas fireplace was roaring. She appeared quite comfortable.

"Don't you just love a clean house?" she asked.

"Yes, I sure do. And this looks great!" I added, gesturing toward the expanse of the room that she'd been working on.

"Okay, wanker. Go fetch your collar and your leash, my riding crop, a fresh towel and a ping pong paddle."

Nervous that I might forget something, I complied with alacrity. I took special notice that she referred to the riding crop as HERS. I was back in just a couple minutes with her requests.

"Take off your clothes. Put on your collar and hand me the leash."

Again, I proceeded with eagerness. I was getting used to this. She pulled the leash taut.

"Looks like you're my maid. Tell me."

"I'm your maid, Mistress Rita."

"Yes you are. And there was dust on the TV and computer screens upstairs. There was a countertop stain by the toaster. And the dish towels on the ...

... refrigerator door were old, dirty and needed washing. Now ask if you can kneel."

"May I kneel for you, Mistress Rita?"

"Yes, you may. And you've earned thirty whacks on your butt cheeks, with the paddle, for not being thorough in your cleaning. Fifteen on each cheek. You do the paddling. Count out loud. Go!"

I wasted no time. I smacked my own butt cheek. "One!" Whack! "Two!" Whack. On I went, and not with pansy little smacks. I wanted her to hear the loud cracks. I did five on one cheek then switched to the other one for another five. Then back to the original for "Six!" Whack. "Seven!" Whack. And on, until I hit fifteen on each side. I was quite sure my bum was rosy. It stung.

"Good job. Now give me a foot rub, wanker."

She pushed the recliner back and extended her feet onto the attached ottoman. I crouched down and proceeded to give her the most attentive and sensual foot rub I could muster. Her eyes fluttered and then shut. I massaged my heart out. After a while she spoke.

"Kiss my feet while you rub them."

I complied eagerly, happily. After a bit she interjected.

"You're my wanker. Tell me that you are." she instructed.

"I'm your wanker," I volunteered quickly, as I puckered my lips onto the sole of her foot.

"You're my wanker and you're obsessed with my tits, aren't you?"

"I'm your wanker, Mistress Rita. And I'm in love with your tits."

"You know, I knew from the time I went in your office, and you had that video playing. Some British actress ...