1.
Kylie had been cleaning my house for two hours each week for something like two years. She was short with long, brown hair and filled tight jeans to perfection. She had high cheekbones had a smile that oozed sex appeal.
Kylie had a key to my house and most weeks she came and went without my being around. Early in the piece we occasionally bumped into each other and had a few chats. I sometimes offered her tea or coffee but she usually declined. I gave her my e-mail address and she sent some material that was funny, and some that was hardcore. It seemed she was quite liberated in sharing this sexual material and yet, I relented, showed no interest in me.
More recently I took a few sick-days to recover from a strained back and only realised she was coming by when I heard her key in the door.
"Hi Kylie," I called out from the bedroom.
"Have I caught you in bed?" her head appeared in the doorway.
"Not sleeping, just resting," I replied.
"Of course you were," Kylie said with a distinct smile. The smile she gave me had the same effect as teasing the head of my cock.
I followed her into the lounge room and explained I had hurt myself while moving moss-rocks at a job. She listened and then told me she should have been earlier but she'd had to get her neighbour over with his air compressor to pump up her flat tyre.
I asked if she was going to get the puncture fixed. Apparently the tyre people had told her the tyres were so old they would break if taken from their rims. I asked if she was going to get new tyres and she said she would but the front wheels would need aligning or else the new tyres would scrub out.
"So get a wheel alignment," I told her, "it's under forty bucks."
"I would," she pressed, "but the whole front end needs fixing...ball joints, tie rod end...all that stuff."
She was beginning to frustrate me. "Then maybe you should increase your range of services."
"Maybe I should," she agreed, and that smile was back.
She then busied herself while I sipped a cold drink and watched TV. I stole occasional glances when I felt sure she wasn't looking, and gazed longingly at the little cleft at the top of her thighs.
2.
Our next meeting was when I took time off during the week to supervise the work of an electrician and his laborer. Kylie turned up when the work was well underway. For once her near-permanent smile was gone and she was angry to see people messing up the house when she was due to be cleaning.
I reasoned with her, "Please, don't get upset they won't be long now. Why don't you have a coffee and I'm sure they'll be out of your way by then."
"Yeah, but look at the place," she replied. "I'll be an extra hour here thanks to them."
"Okay, okay," I tried to sooth her and placed an additional twenty on the kitchen counter for her.
Kylie was still solemn so I gently probed.
"Is there something else you're upset about?"
She sighed and propped her head with her arm. "Those twenties would have to be hundreds," she motioned to the counter, "and you'd have to keep them coming." Her beautiful dark eyes drifted out the window. "My car is near dead. I can't afford to keep it and I definitely can't afford a new one. I don't even know if I'll make it home this afternoon."
Nasty thoughts were knocking around in my head. The things she did for me in an hour for a mere twenty dollars - she cleaned my toilet for god's sake! Yet with that little treasure between her legs she could probably make two hundred dollars an hour. However I bit my tongue.
The way the electrician was looking at her right at that moment, I knew I wasn't the only one thinking about her body.
We talked for a while and I told her I had a wagon like hers before I bought my work ute, and used to service and repair it myself. So odds were I could get hers running smoothly again.
At one point she looked directly at me and said, "You'd do that?" and with her eyes she concluded "And I bet I know what you'd want in return."
3.
The following weekend I fronted up at her place with my landscaping tools out of the ute and the mechanical ones in. She made me a coffee then promptly excused herself. She was wearing tight track-suit pants and as she walked away I saw no panty lines. I imagined she was wearing a G-string and savoured the thought.
I first took the car for a test drive. It smelled like her - which was exciting - but was rough in all other respects. If Kylie were to pay the going rate for a mechanic to work on it, the car would be worth far less than the repairs - not an option. But if I were to do the work and pick things up cheap, then...
Looking back I realise I was just desperate for her approval.
I went to a tyre yard to price mid-range tyres but there was a sale and discounts I couldn't ignore, so I went ahead with four tyres.
At a wrecking yard I found a car with the same model engine. It had rear-end damage and the car had done just over two thousand kilometres on a reconditioned engine. They even had the receipts to prove it.
I arranged to pick the motor up the following weekend and returned to Kylie's house happy with myself.
She brought me a late lunch and, as I sat up on the carport floor to take the plate, was greeted by her material clad pussy at eye-level.
I spent the rest of my time tuning the carbie, doing the timing and putting a heavier grade oil in the motor.
I took the time to run through what I had done and what I planned to do. Kylie thanked me then pointed out an oil spill on her concrete, no more than a few drops, but instructed that I should clean it because her landlord had high standards. She sat on the porch step and watched me apply degreaser and scrub, while I thought about the irony of me cleaning for my cleaner.
Her legs were slightly apart and I looked up several times taking in her sexy shapes.
"I suppose you're hoping for something to happen now, but you need to know I'm not that sort of girl."
I nodded and hosed off the degreaser.
"You keep looking between my legs," she continued, "and you can forget that, but you can feel my breasts...just briefly."
She walked over to me, took my hands and held them to her chest. Her tits were firmly strapped in but through her T-shirt and bra I could determine they were a good handful each. Then my hands were whisked away.
4.
The replacement motor was out of the wrecked car when I called in the following Saturday. It was loaded on my trailer and, once at Kylie's, the swap took place. By early evening the car was running again.
Kylie brought me a modest meal and, when I announced the job was done, she instructed me to wait. She returned with boxes containing a CD player and speakers.
"A gifted man like you shouldn't take long to fit this...would you mind?"
I realised I must be crazy as I grappled with wires under the dash. Then she brought out coffee wearing only a long T-shirt and panties.
My body aching and my watch on the wrong side of midnight, I finally finished. I knocked gingerly on the door and Kylie soon answered in the same attire.
"All done," I told her.
"Okay, just keep your voice down."
I apologised and looked repentantly at my shoes.
She disappeared into the house and returned slipping on a track suit jacket. "Come on I want to test it out." I noticed she had a CD in her left hand.
