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EXHIBITIONIST VOYEUR

Clean Or Dirty Why Not Both

Clean Or Dirty Why Not Both

by wolfylies
19 min read
4.58 (8900 views)
adultfiction

"SADIE!!"

Even from the other side of the crowded pub, I heard Jenny screech out my name excitedly. I made my way through the crowds, pushing my way forward and as I reached the booth the girls moved around to give me room to sit, just as a waiter came over with a large tray full of shot glasses and set them on the table.

"Come on Sadie, you're behind," Jenny laughed, handing me a large glass of wine and pushing two shots towards me, "Drink up."

I took a swig from my wine glass. It was good wine, not the cheap stuff I normally drank. I took one shot and downed it quickly. Tequila, ooh that made my throat tingle.

"What are these in aid of?" I leaned in and asked Jenny.

"Celebrating," she grinned, "my internship ended today, they've not only given me a full-time position but it's double the salary too"

"Oh, great," I answered.

"You could look a little more happy then," Jenny retorted, "what's up?"

I looked at her and paused, telling her I didn't want to burst her bubble. She nudged me and told me that we were best friends, we'd been friends for a very long time, and she wanted me to tell her or else.

"Jack has cut my hours at the cafe, I'm down to only two shifts per week now. He said it was better that way than sacking some staff and keeping others," I told her, "and it's only been a few months since I got my flat, I don't want to move back to my parents already."

She leaned over and hugged me, and told me to drink my problems away and we'd see about resolving things the day after, there wasn't much that I could do about it tonight anyway. The shots kept coming, we kept drinking, and I found it a small blessing that I didn't have to get up for work in the morning.

When I did finally awaken I saw a message from Jenny. Still tired, my head throbbing, I decided to shower before reading it. When I did, it surprised me a little.

"Might have an idea for you, finishing work an hour early today, can I come around and speak to you about it?" it read.

I replied and told her that would be fine. I had a little shopping to do, nothing too important, and would be back in plenty of time for her arrival. When she did arrive she was very happy.

"Right, bare with me on this, hear me out before answering, I know it wouldn't normally be your kind of thing but it's fairly easy money," she said.

I looked at her, shrugged, and she told me again to hear her out. I shrugged again, laughed, and told her just to tell me already.

"I can check on a cleaning job. I used to do it, it's private for one old man, just his house, nowhere else," she started.

She paused, judging my reaction, before continuing.

"He used to pay Β£150 and it took around three hours usually," she continued.

"That seems high for three hours of work, what's the catch?" I asked.

"Are you okay with cleaning for him first?" Jenny asked.

"Yes, no problem," I told her.

"In your underwear?" she said quietly.

"What!" I cried out.

Now it made sense why he paid so much. It was like having a private stripper who cleaned as well as undressed.

"And you used to do it?" I asked.

"Yes, only for a few weeks, I was like you and not much income so although I wasn't over keen on the idea it was good money and it's only him there watching," she answered.

"Watching," I said.

"Yeah, he'll follow you from room to room, getting a good view, you learn to block out that he's there after a while. I just thought of the money which helped," she laughed, "and he'll definitely like you."

I laughed at her comment. She was extremely pretty, always dressed well, model-like stick-thin figure, but had always been a little jealous of my curvier body. She always said that men always looked at me first, my 36C 24 36 body sculpted in all the right places, with me responding that only until they saw how beautiful she was compared to me. My having pale skin and ice-white hair didn't help, Jenny was always tanned and her jet-black hair was almost perfect every time she went out. I looked albino compared to her sultry Mediterranean look.

"He just watches?" I asked tentatively.

"Yeah," Jenny answered.

"Okay, give him a ring then," I asked her.

She got up and walked into the kitchen, I heard her talking for a few minutes, and then she returned looking forlorn. She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders.

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"You're in luck, his last cleaner has just left him, I've given him your number," she giggled.

"Thank you," I told her.

"Drinks are on you on Friday then," she laughed.

I had a phone call from an unknown number the following day. I answered, and the voice asked if I was Sadie. I replied yes, and then he told me it was Mister Reynolds. I paused, not knowing who it was.

"Jenny gave me your number, about the cleaning job?" he told me.

"Oh," I laughed, "sorry she hadn't told me your name. Yes, I'm interested," I told him.

He laughed too, told me that was great, and asked me to write his address down as he wasn't great with modern phones and couldn't text properly. I wrote it down, wondered why it seemed so familiar, and then he asked me to come by the following day, around midday. I told him that would be no problem.

Ending the call I searched online for the address. Wow, it was in the very posh part of town, all the high flyers lived there, in the expansion built on the hillside overlooking the town. No wonder he paid that amount, if he lived there he could certainly afford it.

After showering the next morning, I chose my underwear wisely. I didn't want to go too slutty, no lacy see-through ones for my first day. They could wait I giggled to myself. I pulled out some boxer short-type bottoms and a matching top. I put them on and looked at myself in the mirror. If he was going to watch, then he could, but I didn't want to be spilling out of anything. These would be sturdy enough for my movements without falling away and exposing too much to his old eyes.

I'd selected jeans and a T-shirt but as I'd only be wearing them on the journey I pulled on a casual dress and wore trainers. I walked across town, enjoying the sun and saving money on a taxi or bus fare, and got to his block easily in time. I pressed the button with his number on, and a buzzer opened the door. I took the lift up to the sixth floor and knocked on his door.

If I'd been expecting some hunky-looking guy who looked nowhere near his age I was disappointed. He stooped over a walking stick and looked tired. He was dressed well and his hair was combed neatly, however, and he let me in and pointed towards the living room.

"Oh wow, nice view you have up here," I said looking through the large window.

"Yes, worth the rent just to see that view, it's beautiful isn't it," he answered.

He opened the door and it swung outwards, and he waved me through onto the balcony. It was immersed in sunshine, and so very warm.

"It's designed on purpose facing this way, the sun is on the balconies all day, perfect for tanning," he explained.

He walked back in and sat down, while I took in the view a little longer before joining him.

"Did, erm, Jenny explain the terms?" he asked,

"Yes Mister Reynolds, you mean about the underwear thing right?" I asked, "I have no problem with working around you in my lingerie," I laughed.

"It's not so much about that as having nowhere to stash items to potentially steal from me, it's not like I'm going to be able to chase after you is it now?" he laughed loudly.

I laughed with him but saw his point. Maybe like Jenny, I'd got the wrong impression about him. I asked about the stick, and he explained he didn't use it all the while, he could move around without it but if he'd been sitting for a while his joints were a little rusty and needed a little help. He pointed his walking stick towards a chair and told me that was where I could leave my other clothes. He made no attempt to move or to disguise the fact he was watching me undress as I pulled off the dress and folded it neatly before putting it on the chair.

I turned to see him smiling as his eyes wandered up and down my body. I laughed inside, it was a look I'd seen so many times from guys in their early twenties like me, although most of them never got as far as my underwear. Mister Reynolds had managed it in minutes, the lucky old man I told myself. I remembered what Jenny had said, about thinking of the money rather than him staring at me as I went from room to room, but being honest with myself him being about didn't bother me.

A few times while cleaning I'd heard a clicking noise, but each time I turned and looked in the direction of the noise I couldn't see anything, in fact, if I did turn around most of the time I couldn't see Mister Reynolds either. I guessed pretending I didn't know he was following me around, staring at my arse and tits, was part of his mystique, a pretence that I was completely unaware of him doing so.

When I'd finally finished he was sitting back in the same chair. He commented that if I'd noticed him following me around, it had only been to see how well I'd cleaned. He was satisfied and asked if I would be available again sometime. I told him about my shifts being only two evenings a week so any time apart from those would suit me. He smiled and pointed his stick towards a table, where the money for my wages lay.

After thanking him I headed downstairs, phoning Jenny and asking her to meet me later in the pub. She asked how it had gone, what I thought of him, and frowned when I told her that I thought he was just a sweet old man.

"Oh, I know what I meant to ask, do you remember hearing a clicking sound as you moved around the place?" I asked her.

She laughed a little before answering.

"Yes, I found out, maybe I should have told you about it but I didn't want to put you off," she said.

I paused, waiting for her to continue, after she'd stopped laughing again.

"That sweet old man wasn't just following you around to check on how well you'd cleaned, that was the sound of his old camera," she giggled, "he's not very good with modern technology so uses an old camera, the clicking sound is the film winding on."

"So, he's been taking photos of me?" I said.

"Don't tell me, he spun you the line about stealing and that's why he wanted you in underwear," she laughed again, "oh boy, even I saw through that one."

She playfully punched my shoulder and we both laughed together. Thinking back, I had actually believed what he'd told me. She asked if I was going back again or if I was put off now. I told her that I needed the money so it was going to take a lot more than that to stop me going.

"When you finish next week, pretend to close the door and sneak back in," Jenny giggled uncontrollably.

He phoned and asked me back the following week, and although I wore different undies they were a 'safe' option like the previous ones. When I'd done and picked up my money I made out to leave, closing the door and standing quietly. I heard a little murmuring and crept back down the hallway. Mister Reynolds was still in his chair but now had his trousers wide open and his cock out while he looked at a screen on the back of his camera.

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I didn't have the best angle, but good enough to make out the images were of me, in my current underwear, in various places around his home. Only when he saw one of me on all fours with my arse facing directly to him did he groan and take his cock in hand. Only then did I notice that his cock wasn't the longest when erect, only around six inches long, he himself struggled to wrap his hand around its girth. I watched for a few seconds, then decided to leave before he'd seen me.

He'd phoned me around an hour after I'd left, asking me to come back next week, to which I agreed maybe a little too eagerly. This time I decided to still wear boxer-type shorts, but this time lacy. They also cut up between my buttocks more. I repeated the week before, this time staying put and watching as he stroked his cock, looking at pictures of myself.

I felt myself getting turned on as I glanced between looking at what picture he had of me on screen and gazing at his cock. My hand inadvertently slid under my dress and into my lace knickers. I felt myself imagining my hand around his cock, and I jumped a little as my fingers traced over my clit, surprising myself with how wet I was. I watched for around twenty minutes, and still he hadn't cum, but I couldn't carry on without making it obvious I was there.

I fingered myself quickly in the lift on the way down, cumming before I reached the ground floor. Luckily nobody else was in or had got into the lift, I wasn't sure I'd have been able to stop if they had. Again he'd phoned me within the hour.

I was on tenterhooks that week, I was a little disgusted with myself for thinking about his old cock, it wasn't like I didn't have potential suitors of my own age, but there was something dirty about it. Twice I'd fingered myself thinking about it. Getting ready for my next visit I chose a lace thong and bra set. I found myself watching him intently as I undressed in front of him, liking the look of pleasure he got from seeing my underwear which didn't cover a lot, my nipples already poking through the sheer material.

"I've put an extra Β£50 on the table this week, I've got something I'd like you to give me a hand with after you've finished," he told me.

I heard the familiar clicking as I cleaned, and knowing my thong wasn't covering a lot anyway I started positioning myself so my legs were a little more spread, spending more time on all fours, making sure Mister Reynolds got his money's worth for later. I 'accidentally' splashed water on my bra, which made the lace material even more see-through. I was enjoying myself as much as he was enjoying watching me. When I'd finished and walked towards the chair, my dress wasn't there.

"Ah, you're done. Come here please," he instructed.

"Oh yes, you wanted a hand with something didn't you," I said.

He nodded and unzipped and pushed his trousers down quickly. His cock sprang out, semi-erect already, and he nodded down towards it.

"What? You want me to wank you off?" I called out.

"Well you enjoyed watching last week," he smirked.

He pointed his walking stick towards the wall opposite, where a mirror showed back down to the doorway. He told me that he was glad I'd stuck around for longer, and nodded to his cock again.

"Just a handjob. Β£50 extra?" I said.

He smiled and nodded to his cock again. As I walked towards him, he stood up and told me to kneel. I did so, and he shuffled forward a little. My hand reached out and tried to wrap around his cock, getting enough grip to stroke him. His cock pointed towards my chin as I looked up to see him glaring down at me. He groaned as I stroked him, changing hands, and then cupping his balls with my free hand. I tried all my little tricks to get him to cum, to no avail. Twenty minutes later he was still going.

"Take off your bra to help, show me those beautiful young breasts," he said.

Reluctantly I did so, I hadn't expected him to take so long and every little thing would help him cum I hoped.

"Wow, your nipples are so pale," he exclaimed.

"Yeah, very pale like my skin, ghost nipples they're called," I told him.

I stroked him again, faster still, now he stared at my tits swaying with my arm movements. A few times he grunted loudly but still, he didn't cum. I moved my body up a little, his cock pointing at my tits, hoping that would help him out. Despite the time it was taking, I could feel my pussy oozing and aching for a touch. I gently pushed his stomach so he sat back on the chair, then stood and straddled his legs. I lowered, pushing the flimsy material along his thigh, the movements rubbing it across my clit as I stroked him harder still. I used both hands on his cock, squeezing harder still, stroking his cock in time with my writhing on his thigh.

I jumped as I felt his hands on my tits. He squeezed at my nipples, taking them between his thumb and finger, squeezing them like he was trying to see if he could get any colour in them. I hadn't expected it to go this far, but I didn't want to stop and I desperately wanted to cum as much as I wanted him to finish too. He started jerking his hips up to meet my strokes, and I rubbed against his thigh harder.

He groaned louder still, and his cum started to spurt from his cock, wave after wave over my stomach. It was enough for me to feel his hot deposit on my cool skin and I came too, writhing about on his lap until I fell limp, my breasts pushed into his chest and my arms slumped over his shoulders. When I finally climbed off him, I couldn't believe exactly how much he'd cum. My stomach was coated, it was all over my thong, and both of his legs were covered too. I looked down to see a string hanging down from one of my breasts too.

"Same time next week, save me phoning you?" he asked.

"Sure, I need the money," I answered a little too quickly.

Picking the money from the table, I saw he'd already put the extra Β£50 with it beforehand. How presumptuous of him to assume that I'd go through with it. I started to feel a little grubby later like I'd gone too far, but after a while, the thoughts turned to ones of me just doing him a favour, a lonely old man who just needed some company, and was willing to pay good money for it. On top of that, I'd made myself cum while doing so as it had been a turn-on.

In hindsight turning up the following week and not wearing a bra from the off probably wasn't my best idea. Mister Reynolds eyes lit up on seeing this, and he made no attempt to hide the fact he was following me around, nor disguising the erection he had for almost the entire time I cleaned. I turned at one point and saw the camera, and he gasped and tried to hide it. I smiled and told him I'd seen what he was doing, then turned and carried on. I'd bent on all fours, cleaning in a corner, wiggling my arse knowing he was taking pictures of me.

"All done now," I said when everywhere was cleaned.

He was sitting back in his usual seat by now, a large smile on his face. He rubbed his hand across his crotch to alert my eyes to it like he thought it had been perfectly hidden all this time. Without asking, without saying anything, he unzipped and pushed his trousers down to his ankles, and then looked back to me and smiled once more.

"Mister Reynolds, you're a very dirty old man," I giggled, "I assume the extra money is available?"

"You're a very dirty young girl too, coming here without a bra on," he laughed, "there's a little more extra too."

I didn't say anything, I just walked to him and took his cock in my hand, and stroked him slowly. One hand stroked his shaft, the other cupped his heavy balls. He groaned loudly and jerked his hips up to meet my hands. He closed his eyes and enjoyed me working on him. Suddenly he opened his eyes wide.

"Suck me, and take off your knickers too," he instructed, "instead of rubbing yourself on me, I want to use my fingers on you."

"I assume there's more than just the Β£50 extra then," I asked.

He simply nodded, then watched as I hooked my thumbs into my thong and slid it down over my hips. He sighed loudly as I let the thong slide down and kicked it off my ankles. He used one foot to push my feet apart a little more, staring between my legs.

"Ah, you're completely shaved, nice. I can't remember the last time I saw a nice bald pussy," he commented.

He used his hands to guide me to stand to the side of the chair, then guided my head down towards his cock, telling me to keep standing. He moved his hand, leaving me to take his cock into my mouth at my own pace, sliding the hand between my legs and directly onto my clit. My mouth opened as wide as possible, I tried to fit as much of his fat cock in until I started to gag, hearing him chuckle as I did.

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