I was already standing by the door when the bell rang. The fantasy that had been floating around in my head for two months was finally coming true. I was excited — even a little nervous — as I reached for the doorknob.
She smiled when I opened the door, making an already beautiful face framed by blonde curtains all the more stunning. The rest of her was just as wonderful. The low-cut white top she was wearing revealed ample cleavage, and the cloth clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination. Her short black skirt likewise showed off gorgeous legs.
"Mr. Reynolds?" she asked.
"Yes, but please call me Seth."
"Seth, then. I'm Vicki from Natural Clean. I believe you have an appointment."
I held the door open and stepped out of the way. "Yes, please come in."
Vicki grabbed the handle of her cleaning cart and pulled it inside after her. I openly admired the sexy way she moved, because there was no reason not to. The sound of her high heels clicking on the floor sent a shiver up my spine.
She stopped at the center of the front room and pulled a clipboard from her cart. "If you'll just sign this and have a seat, I'll get started."
There was a great deal of text, but the only thing I was concerned about was the line on the bottom. I signed and dated it without reading a word. When I handed it back to her, she gestured toward the couch. I took a seat and prepared for the show.
She was still wearing that stunning smile when she grasped the tail of her top. The dream I'd had ever since reading an online article about nude maid service was finally coming true. I drank in every moment as the cloth slid upward. The fair skin of her midriff appeared below the line, and then her navel. When the rising top revealed her lacy white bra, I had to adjust my hardening cock.
Her top pooled into a basket atop the cart, and she wasted no time reaching behind her back. I saw the band go slack, and throbbed in anticipation of what was to come. I wasn't disappointed.
I'm sure that by cup-size, she wasn't particularly busty, but on her trim frame, her tits looked huge. They were firm and perky as well. The rosy circles surrounding her nipples contrasted her skin tone to good effect, and I was mesmerized by every jiggle.
Next came the zipper on the back of her skirt. I let out a quiet groan as I heard it sliding down. She then hooked her thumbs beneath the waist of the skirt and turned around. The black of her skirt gave way to the white of her panties as she pushed down. The cotton barely covered her round ass at all. She bent low to slide the skirt down her legs, and I swear I saw a slightly darker spot in a very interesting location.
Two clicks from her heels sounded one after the other as she stepped out of her skirt. She didn't straighten as she did so, letting me admire the play of her muscles with her butt still thrust toward me. I gave my raging hardon a squeeze.
When she stood back up and faced me, her eyes dropped to my hand between my legs.
"Do you mind?" I asked.
"That's not going too far, I suppose," she answered while dropping her skirt in the basket. Then she slipped her thumbs beneath the cotton of her panties.
I took in a slow, deep breath as she pushed them down. A thin line of hair emerged, culminating in a downward pointing triangle. I certainly didn't need the arrow to draw my attention, but I appreciated it anyway. The cotton continued its journey past her thighs, and down her legs. As her panties neared her knees, she had to bend, giving me a fine view of the top of her breasts. Then she stooped down and pushed until the cotton dropped to her ankles.
I got my first peek at what the arrow was pointing at when she lifted her foot and twisted it, deftly extracting it from her panties. The next peek was a little longer when she lifted her other foot, bent her knee, and plucked the last garment from her ankle.
"Would you like the shoes off or on?" she asked while dropping her panties in the basket.
I answered, "On is fine," but the truth was that having her walking around stark naked in those high heels made her look even sexier.
She nodded, and then pulled a long-handled duster from her cart. "Well, let's start at the top then."
Heels clicking, she strutted across the floor until she was beneath the ceiling fan. I had to moan when she stretched her arm over her head, lifting those magnificent breasts. Her smile broadened at the sound.
Vicki moved in a circle beneath the fan, dusting off each blade, and giving me a view of her from every possible angle. I felt as if I were going to blow the zipper out of my jeans. She glanced my way as she worked — always smiling and seemingly confident in her nudity.
"I'm impressed," she said when she finished with the fan. "The ceiling fan is one of the places where you usually find the lapses in housekeeping."
I said, "My wife actually seems to enjoy cleaning."
"Wife?" she said while walking back to her cart.
"Is that a problem?"
She shook her head. "Of course not. I'm here to clean, not judge. It could be rather awkward if she came home while I was here, though."
"No chance of that."
"You're sure?"
I nodded and said, "Positive."
The blonde's smile changed to a crooked, mischievous one while she swapped for a duster with a shorter handle. "Well, I'll see if I can find anything Mrs. Perfection missed."
"Think I'm getting my money's worth even if you don't."
She struck a pose, holding the duster out to her side and said, "Thank you. I aim to please."
She was certainly doing a fine job of that.
Running her duster over the lamp and table next to where I sat on the couch didn't accomplish much. There was little in the way of dust to pick up. What it
did
accomplish was to make me sigh when she bent to reach the back of the table. Her breasts hung quivering from the motion of her arm, only a few inches away. I could see every bump on her areolas, and it looked as if her nipples were erect.
"Well, nothing here," she said as she straightened. Her eyes brightened and she held up a finger before saying, "The bottom of the coffee table."
"Only one way to find out," I said, and then gave my aching cock another squeeze.
She glanced between my legs before pointing at the table and saying, "Let me have a look."
My naked maid stepped in front of me, bent down to put a hand on the coffee table, and then looked at the shelf below. Her ass was as close to me as her tits had been earlier. She subtly wiggled it back and forth before bending even lower, putting a hand on the floor. The effect of that was anything but subtle. I slouched down an inch or so to get a good look at her pussy — a line of pink that glistened in the light of the lamp.
I couldn't handle the pressure any longer. I popped open the button on my jeans and released the zipper with a sigh of relief.
"I don't really see anything," she said.
What could I say while staring at her ass and pussy almost in my face? "I do."
She looked back over her shoulder and smiled before standing up. As soon as she turned, her eyebrows lifted, and there was no mistaking that she was looking at the bulge in my underwear.
"Is that okay? I was feeling a little restrained."
"Yes, that's..." Her gaze darted back between my legs. "That's just fine."
I didn't miss the look, or the catch in her voice. I'd been holding back on my fantasy, but that was enough to encourage me to push. "If you don't mind me asking, are they real?"
"You mean these?" she asked while cupping her right breast in her hand. "Yes, they're real."
"I thought they looked real, but you can't tell just by looking."
"I suppose that's true, but..." She trailed off and shrugged. "There are limits to my service. Company rules."