The last time he'd been to the house was fifteen years ago. She was eight. Not anymore. 23 years old and ripe for the picking. He watched her poorly supported breasts bounced as she descended the staircase. He was talking to his mother and father about cabinet lengths but he made a point of turning to her and saying "Good morning".
She looked at him and he knew she wanted him. But this wasn't some girl at the bra. This was a client's daughter. He brought himself back to the cabinets but caught a glimpse of that perfect little ass disappearing behind the refrigerator.
The first week he tried to focus on the job but it was hard with the girl always bouncing...er, running up and down the stairs. She wore headbands with flowers. She enjoyed crop tops. And she wore red thongs.
He discovered this bit after she had hurried by with the laundry. One lone article of clothing fell on the floor. It wasn't until he picked it up that he realized it was underwear. Dirty underwear.
He was alone. He did what any man would do. He held them up to his nose and inhaled deeply. The strong smell of a woman's pussy, of her intimate folds spread out so he could smell her. His nose moved further along until he got to a more earthy smell. Which made him heady with arousal. He could put his head between those creamy cheeks.
He was in such a state of arousal he didn't realize Ashley had returned to the room. She was staring at him. She should have been angry, but instead she looked embarrassed. Like she couldn't conceal her sexuality.
"I'm so sorry," He said. Damn his husky voice. His erection was straining in his boxers.
"You can keep them," her voice sounded strangled. There was so much sexual tension. He could hear her breathing heavily. It delighted him. He was thrilled to think of what juices might be pooling in the panties she was wearing now. Before he could say anything, she ran up to her room. He slipped the garment carefully in his pocket. Treasure.
That night he took them out, held them over his nose and jerked off. Even the occasional stains as all he more a turn on for him.
The next day he was working in the kitchen which was still in the means of being packed up. Ashley flounced into the kitchen looking for something (scissors maybe?). it was hard to think with that tight blouse. But all thoughts of her breasts went out the window when she bent over to open a cabinet. This was directly in front of him. He had perfect viewing of her thong, her ass, that peek out of the tender mound that was her pussy. He almost dropped his hammer. Oh my God, those thighs around his face. Shamefully he noticed it was a hot day. He wondered if her panties would reflect that.
"Found them!" exclaimed Ashley triumphantly. She left with her scissors. He wasn't thinking, he ran after her into the mud room. Ashley had been sliding into shoes when he showed up. She looked scared, alarmed and he realized it was probably the lust in his eyes.
"Don't pull stunts like that if you aren't ready to follow them up," Ashley was shaking and he hadn't even touched her. "You need to be mine," I said. I grabbed her and held her close. They kissed, eager, bodies hungry, pressed against each other. Then he let his hand wander. Oh fuck those breasts were beautiful. That ass.
"Am I mature enough for you?" she whispered, her breath on his ear sending her into spasms.
"Oh hell yeah," he grinded against her, he knew his boxers were a mess. He heard another construction worker call his name. He pulled away, to compose.
