An adult stories – The Cleaner by ThisWillBeFun,ThisWillBeFun Another fantasy, i am afraid.
This one isn’t a true story
The Cleaner
Her heart palpitates a little too hard as the nerves kick in. The wonder of what she could be about to find always became a touch too much to stay completely calm at this point.
It was always the same though. The same routine. The same expectations of her. Regular employment was a chore but she generally enjoyed her work and she was offering and delivering a specialist service which was quite an uncommon one. It suffered the same peaks and troughs as any other hands-on business and she was always grateful to be busy.
These houses were always filthy as though they stored themselves up for her. It shouldn’t matter as she was paid by the hour, and to be fair, it didn’t, beyond an astonishment that this was how some people lived.
But if they cleaned them for themselves, she wouldn’t have a job?
That was the agreement that was made each time: What wasn’t done was always left for next time. She was paid by the hour and maintained an excellent work ethic for each duration. She had never had a complaint.
So much so, she was always asked back for yet another room when they could afford her, the kitchen being a popular choice too.
Business was good.
She looked at the schedule on her phone app order system to see what the homeowner had ticked and paid for:
*Lounge thorough carpet sweeping
*Dusting of all surfaces
*Skirting board, wiped down by hand
*Lounge window inside cleaned.
*Fireplace cleaned and waxed.
All in one area. That seemed simple enough.
She sighed and read down the list. Skirting boards always meant time on her hands and knees with legs splayed wide, feet kicking up into the air. She could do them in seconds with a mop of course, but hand wiping them with a cloth repeatedly being washed through from a bucket by the side of her, well, that required a lot of crawling around on the floor sometimes with her head under a chair trying to reach every inch of it.
She liked wearing rubber gloves for that. Some clients liked that, others didn’t supply them and if so, she wouldn’t use bleach.
Waxing the fireplace would be a lot of physical effort too, kneeling up and rubbing back and forth vigorously. Getting every square inch would be a lot of physical exertion.
What else was there here?
Oh yes… windows cleaned inside. That would mean being on tip toes as she wasn’t overly tall, and a lot of stretching and balancing to reach the furthest corners or teetering with one foot on a stool, the other on the window board.
She didn’t mind cleaning the outside glass if the garden was walled and discrete and especially if the weather was warmish but when cleaning on the inside she always felt on complete display to the world as well as to the person watching from the armchair.
Outside on a cold day made everything a little more nippy and on those occasions, she was very swift completing the job.
Carpet sweeping was easy enough but getting into some of those tricky spots meant a lot of effort with moving the furniture out and then returning it back to original locations again. Moving a sofa back and forth was always doable once she had widened her stance and braced for the effort.
Effective cleaning was tricky enough to do at the best of times, but she was ‘the naked cleaner’ and for the entire two hours she was going to be completing the work whilst only wearing her slutty red stiletto heeled shoes and lipstick on her mouth and nipples.
The business idea was inspired and she had enjoyed constant employment since starting it a few months ago.
Complete nudity otherwise was expected. Touching was expressly forbidden with a further two metre exclusion zone stipulated though not always possible based on the size of the space she was cleaning.
Whoever had hired her would doubtless masturbate whilst watching her.
Putting her body through the range of positions and contortions expected to complete all the cleaning tasks displayed her entire body very effectively, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Sometimes she had to clean up their eventual deposit. Some chose to use a ready tissue, others were so taken with her and her antics that they couldn’t help themselves and ended up spilling where they stood.
But cum, they always did.
Every.
Single.
Time.
Mostly it was a complete turn on for her knowing that she had had that effect on the clients. Male or female, it didn’t matter. The money was all good and everyone had their urges. She had retained an excellent shapely figure and it captivated the interest of anyone who was lucky enough to witness it in motion or posed for viewing.
Watching their reaction as she knelt on their floor or climbed their window ledge was enough of an intoxicating hit that she always pushed herself to widen her stance further each time or humiliate herself in her heels just a little more.
Feeling their excitement as she pushed her ass in the air and arched her back, knowing that her ass cheeks had spread to the point of revealing her every secret. Knowing that they were beside themselves with unrequited desire for her.
Appreciating the erotic view that they had of her pussy winking at them as she worked and her clit swelling beneath its hood.
Feeling her breasts shimmying back and forth and bouncing up and down as she rubbed at the fireplace or vigorously cleaned a stain and knowing it was a captivating spectacle.
Hearing their breathing change as she then bent at the waist to wipe a stain or sweep from the floor generally signified their completion but she didn’t find it necessary nor was it recommended that she watch them, though often felt her own excitement too at their reactions throughout to her.
Often?
Every.
Single.
Time.
On more than one occasion she had felt herself become unbearably wet at what she was doing and it took all of her resolve to keep her face expressionless. She left the house at the end of the shift without betraying any indication that she would have quite happily jumped on the client or fingered herself to a climax for their entertainment too.
Those times meant her own fingers between her legs whilst she was parked around the corner unable to wait to return home before having to relieve the emotions of the previous two hours.
Such was the life of a naked cleaner.
She looked down the rest of the online form the homeowner had completed before processing the payment.
What else had they ordered?
The next few check boxes were about the extras she offered. This was where the income shot up and she looked for the ticks hopefully.
*Dancing
*Proximity
*Happy ending
If the clients so wished and paid for it, they got to see her dance. This was to any music that they played and she had danced to a very eclectic mix over the last months since adding this to her service list.
She quite enjoyed this as an occasional diversion.
The cost was per five minutes and with the effort she usually put in to their experience she often felt completely exhausted by the end, perspiration covering her body, but oddly centred in the vee between her breasts and between her thighs.
Not that that was a problem, but once she returned to the cleaning part of the job, it did mean that her pussy lips tended to gape wider whilst she was on her hands and knees and the space within became more pink especially when half climbing up onto the window board.
Proximity was another option. Their touching of her was expressly forbidden throughout the two hours. This was not up for debate.
If they wanted her close proximity for any reason, including a dance, then they had to sit on their hands first. This was a personalised option and some paid for it.
She took an almost perverse delight in stepping or standing over them to reach for the dusting, knowing that they were close to bursting at that moment with her breasts hanging so close to their faces. She saw close up how red their faces were and often hoped that they were physically healthy enough to cope.
Not that that was her concern at all.
They weren’t allowed to lean forward though or actively kiss her breasts, but she knew that they were often desperate to, no matter how close her painted nipple got to their face.
The happy ending was an accurately timed ten minute hand job from her before she left, during which they had to, once again, keep their hands under their own bottom.
They were very aware that at the ten minute time limit she would stop, no matter how close they were to completion.
On occasion this option had been ticked on the menu of options and it really bumped up the money. It wasn’t taken very often because it was rare that anyone lasted the preceding two hours without taking matters into their own hands.
If they did wait, they were usually so agitated and excited by that point, orgasm took less than a minute with only the briefest of her ministrations necessary to facilitate it.
Every.
Single.
Time.
Should she leave her coat in the car and walk in naked or would there be somewhere to hang it inside their front door or porch?
Having just followed her Satnav there, she hadn’t paid much attention to the route, but looking now at the house, it did look like one she had been to before. In fact, the man who resided there was actually very attractive and someone she enjoyed cleaning for. He was always respectful and always made her a drink for her to consume whilst she was squatted down and feeling exhausted or thirsty.
He would appreciate her turning up at his door naked. He was a regular.
He had paid for proximity but no happy ending this time. No doubt he wouldn’t be able to wait that long watching her moving and shaking her ass. He always ended up wanking whilst watching her shaking her breasts whilst scrubbing the fireplace.
She pulled the catch to open the door and stepped out. It was late in the evening and no one was around. She thought she may as well simplify matters and decided to leave the coat in the car.
Feeling her nipples erecting at the mild chill, she brushed a hand down over her belly and felt the familiar dampness between her legs.
Every.
Single.
Time.
She shook her head back and cupped her hand over the tight officious bun she had made of her hair earlier to check for stray wisps, then forced herself to remove any smile she had from her lips.
This was all about the business now.
Closing the door behind her, she maintained a slow measured pace around the back of the car across the pavement and up the path towards the entrance, the soft click of her heels on the road and path, the only noise on this otherwise silent evening to ring the doorbell.