Houseeeping

This is the third chapter in the series HouseKeeping. It would be best if you could read first Chapter 1 and then Chapter 2 so you can gain the benefit of knowing the backstory of Chapter 3. This chapter, as are the first two chapters, is long on tease and titillation and short on raw sex. If you want a quick jerk-off story, this might not serve your purposes. On the other hand, the story is erotic as hell for those who enjoy erotic tension and voyeuristic pleasures. As always, please feel free to offer any feedback you want. And an author always values feedback from his readers.

*****

Coming back from the Japanese restaurant, Kelsey was on fire. But her self-control was the stuff legends were made of. When I said something about what happened at dinner, ANYTHING that happened at dinner, she squirmed and she blushed and she said, "I am your housekeeper. The fact that I also entertain you makes it more fun for both of us, but I am first and foremost your housekeeper. I really think it is best that we remember that." Her body language spoke volumes, but her words were quite clear.

Nothing I could say or do would engage her in discussion of the activities we had just experienced. And when we arrived at my house, Kelsey inquired if I wanted her back to clean the house. I had to pause for several seconds in order to remember that all this had happened all in one day. I answered with, "Are you open to coming twice a week?" She nodded her head but said nothing more. "And is Monday and Friday okay with you?" She again nodded and said nothing. Then I will see you Monday afternoon."

Kelsey walked to her car, got in, and drove off. I just shook my head, muttering that not even God could understand women.

Since it had been a Friday when she showed up for the first time, and it was on that same Friday that I had taken her to dinner, then I had to wait over the weekend to see her again. It was a boring weekend. Nothing I could do held my attention. My mind kept going back to Kelsey. I had never experienced anything so exciting in my life. Her teasing as she cleaned my house was incredible. Her teasing as we wandered through downtown Orlando was even more stimulating. But what happened at the Japanese restaurant was like nothing I had ever seen or done. It was so intense I could not stop thinking about it. And I had to wait the entire weekend until I could see her again.

That was tough!

After two full days of dragging on and on and on, it was finally Monday. I sat at the computer trying to get work done, but finding my mind wandering to Kelsey every few minutes. I wondered what she was going to wear today. I wondered if she was going to tease me even more today than she did Friday. I wondered if she would go to dinner with me tonight. I wondered what she would wear tonight. I wondered so much about Kelsey that I felt like I had accomplished absolutely nothing all day.

And then the door bell rang!

My heart literally stopped beating for a couple of seconds. I rushed to the door, trying to keep my balance and know as little as possible over in my short but frantic trip. I jerked to a stop with my right hand on the door knob.

"Wait a minute! This is stupid!" I chided myself. I had advertised for someone to do light cleaning, and to wear as little as possible to tease me while she was working.

"This was entertainment, and nothing more! And I need to treat it as that!" After several seconds standing at the door, I finally opened it and looked at Kelsey.

"Hi, Kelsey." My voice sounded surprisingly casual in spite of the pounding of my heart.

"Mr. Weston. Are you ready for me today?" All business and nothing personal: it was as if she was reminding me of the impersonal nature of our business relationship.

"Yes, Kelsey. Please come in." I stood aside as she walked past me into the front foyer of my house. I noticed she was wearing the same coat that she had worn this past Friday. I held out my hand to take it, and she started to work the buttons. Then she stopped on the second button.

"Before we go any further, Mr. Weston, I wanted to clarify a few things." We faced each other, and I tried to discern by the look on her face what was about to happen. But her expression was inscrutable, and very frustrating because I could not tell what to expect.

"Mr. Weston, you advertised for a woman to do light housecleaning, correct?" I nodded, and she went on. "And you requested that the woman wear certain clothes that allowed her to tease you while she worked; allowed her to pose and prance and get you worked up and sexually aroused while she worked, right?" Another pause and another nod on my part. "Tell me again why it was that you requested a woman 45 years old or older."

This was a little unexpected, so I paused for a moment to collect my thoughts.

"Well, Kelsey, I needed to build a fantasy that was realistic, even plausible. I couldn't have a 20 years old running around here half naked because that would be obviously unrealistic. I wanted it to seem as if the woman and I were naturally suited to a real and even romantic relationship, and that the teasing could turn into sex at any moment. I knew that a young woman was not realistic, and it would be harder to create a fantasy involving a 20 year old. I am, after all, more than 50 years old. So I wanted an older woman. Kelsey, did I not already explain this to you? Was Friday a result of some misunderstanding between us?"

"No, Mr. Weston, I don't think there was a misunderstanding between us. But I did want to clarify one small issue. You say that you wanted an older woman because it would make the sexual fantasy you hoped to build more realistic. And the more realistic it was, the more of a turn-on it would be. Am I right?" I looked into her eyes but I just could not read anything. I had no idea where we were going with this.

"Right, Kelsey. I wanted it to be more realistic. And if I can add, Kelsey, you exceeded everything I had hoped for."

"So, you did not want an older woman so you could actually HAVE a relationship with her, but only to make the fantasy more realistic, the

possibility

of a relationship more exciting and more titillating. Right, Mr. Weston?" Her eyes were extremely intense but still were unreadable. An idea hit me, and I paused long enough to let it percolate.

"Kelsey, I wanted sexual entertainment along the lines of a topless dancer, only a little more personal. And you did an incredible job of it. But if you are asking was I ultimately intending for this woman to perform sexual acts for me, the answer is no. I had no plan or intention of having sexual intercourse with this woman. The possibility of a little, or even a lot, of masturbation did enter my mind, but that was all. What you did to me this past Friday here on the couch was awesome, but not planned and definitely not at all required. Kelsey, have I somehow misled you, or miscommunicated what I wanted? Is there a problem?" I was beginning to get concerned - the possibility that my intentions and goals for our relationship exceeded her intentions and goals for this relationship disturbed me far more than I anticipated. The thought of her not coming back caused me some serious feelings, and they were not good.

"No, Mr. Weston, there is no problem. I just wanted to confirm that our relationship is strictly business, and that I am being paid to be a housekeeper, even an entertaining housekeeper, and nothing more." Her expression was still very intense, but there was something even more in her eyes.

"Kelsey, you are being paid to tease me and entertain me, and nothing more. You are not being paid to perform any sex acts, if that is what concerns you."

"No, Mr. Weston, that was not concerning me at all." The intensity left her eyes, and was replaced by something else. I wondered if I saw disappointment or sadness in her eyes for an instant. But the expression was so quick, so fleeting, that I decided I had imagined it. We stood there in my entrance foyer for a few more seconds, uncertain what to do next. Kelsey broke the silence.

"Okay, I guess I need to get to work." She looked into my eyes again, and I thought I saw disappointment again, and then she looked down at the buttons on her coat. She finished with the buttons and shrugged off the coat. I took it and hung it in the closet that was next to the front door for just that purpose. I stood back and looked at her.

She wore every man's fantasy concerning a French Maid outfit. My eyes started at her feet, for some reason. Her black shoes were flat with no heels to speak of. The soles looked to be some soft and rubbery material. Her legs were covered in white stockings to mid-thigh. The hem of her black skirt started several inches higher, allowing some bare skin to entice my eyes. The skirt was black, and so short that her crotch was barely covered. In fact, as she turned around, her butt cheeks were almost but not quite on display. Her skirt was so short that the unconscious urge to tilt my head to improve the view was almost irresistible.

Her blouse was simply a heart-shaped bib covering her chest, with the bottom sown to her skirt, and the top held up by a lacy strap running from one side, up behind her neck, and down to the other side. The bib was white, and was outlined in black lace. The top, even with the lace, barely covered her boobs when viewed directly from the front, and it made no attempt to wrap around her or cover her boobs when viewed from the side. This, of course, made it obvious that Kelsey was wearing no bra. The only question as yet unresolved was whether or not she was wearing any panties. As I tried again to not bend over and look up her skirt, I felt familiar stirrings in my groin, and I knew this was going to be good.

"Any place in particular that you would like me to start, Mr. Weston?" I could see that the formality was still there, although I had hoped for something more; something different.

"Maybe you could start in the kitchen, Kelsey. I was so busy I didn't wash any dishes all weekend long. And then you might work on the master suite. My bed needs clean sheets and maybe you can give the sink in the bathroom a quick wipe-down. After that, pretty much anything you see that needs a touch-up. And, Kelsey, your outfit is simply awesome!" I said the last with obvious excitement in my eyes and a smile in my voice.

"Thank you, Mr. Weston. I am glad you approve." With no expression in her voice, I could not tell if she wanted any response from me at all. With that, she walked into the kitchen and I walked into my office.

But try as I might, I simply could not concentrate on any work. After a full half hour of trying, I realized that I had accomplished no writing at all. So I gave up and decided to join Kelsey.

After all, I was paying a lot of money to watch, wasn't I?

I chided myself.

I found Kelsey finishing the changing of my sheets in my bedroom. I walked in as she was leaning over the bed, brushing out the last of the wrinkles in my sheets. From the side, her breast was almost totally uncovered and her awesome ass was completely on display. As I walked past her, it was obvious she was wearing no panties. Her round and firm cheeks surrounded her puffy pussy lips.

Why didn't I come in here sooner?

"I seem to be having writer's block today. Do you mind if I watch you work?" I was almost embarrassed to ask the question, which made me feel stupid. But as I thought about it for just a second, I realized I wasn't feeling stupid - I was feeling awkward. Hell, I was feeling like a teenager trying to look up a girl's skirt and getting caught doing so. And all the mixed up feelings that a teenager might have were exploding in my mind and flashing across my face. And Kelsey saw this.

"No, Mr. Weston. That is why I am here." She wore an interesting blend of a casual smirk and an equally embarrassed smile. And it was so beautiful on her that I had to say something.

"Yes, Kelsey, that is exactly why I hired you. And you have far exceeded my hopes and expectations. From the looks of your outfit today, you will exceed them again today. And because you have exceeded my hopes and expectations, I was wondering if we could talk about last week." The doubt and the hesitancy was more obvious than I had wanted, making me feel even more like a teenager than just a few moments earlier.

"Why, Mr. Weston, was there something wrong last week? Did I not do what you wanted, what you

paid

me for?" Her tone was still businesslike, very much that of the employee speaking with her employer. I found myself more than a little disappointed, but I was not sure why.

"No, you were awesome last week, Kelsey. I could not have asked for a better day. In fact, the day was so good that you were in my thoughts all weekend long. And that is what I wanted to talk with you about." I paused because I knew I wanted to continue, but I really did not know what I wanted to say. Just then, the doorbell rang. I looked at her one more time; no, I looked at her body one more time. I realized didn't want to be interrupted by some salesman, but I turned away without a word and walked to the other side of the house.

"Jim, what a surprise! I didn't expect you this afternoon!" My surprise was genuine. I had very few visitors at my house, preferring all my clients to communicate by mail, by phone, or by Skype on my computer. Jim was one of my few friends that visited my house. We had watched any number of football games and movies on my home theater system because, as he had complained so often, his television was only thirty inches and mine was about six feet across. Plus my system had six speakers and provided awesome sound for games and movies.

Jim Sprinkles was just over thirty and was considered by women as a very handsome man. His parents had died unexpectedly in a skiing accident in Switzerland, if half a mountain of snow falling on them can be simply called "an accident." The avalanche was so large that it took almost three days to find the last of the vacationers buried in the snow. When everything was settled, Jim was full owner of his dad's company and had a fortune worth millions in each of several bank accounts. So Jim hired an excellent CEO to run the company and paid him half of the net profits. Jim was a warm and friendly and enjoyable man before his parents' deaths, and he tried hard to remain that way after his parents' deaths. The only difference was that he drove a new Corvette and owned a beautiful house three blocks over but in the same subdivision. The two of us had met as I drove past a man moving into a new house just as the man dropped a large TV out of the truck and onto the street in front of him. After slamming on the brakes to avoid running into the man, I jumped out to help him clear the street. Three hours later, the two of us had finished emptying the moving van and went out for a couple of beers. We had been good friends ever since.

After the warm hug that was traditional for two friends, I stepped back and invited Jim inside. We went to the kitchen to grab a couple of beers, and then retreated to the main room in front of my TV, as we always did when Jim came over. We clinked the bottles together, and then I asked what brought him over.

"Well, Todd, I wanted to ask you for some advice about something. I thought your business experience would be a benefit. Do you mind?" Jim's uncertainty was more than a little unusual. His own business expertise gave rise to little need for advice from others, and he employed an excellent man as CEO. Jim seldom asked for or needed anyone's advice about anything.

"I am all ears, Jim," I grinned, and took another drink from my beer.

Jim took almost a full minute to gather his thoughts, and then started to speak. Just then, Kelsey walked in. Jim's mouth opened but no sound came out. His eyes grew large as saucers when he took in Kelsey's attire as she stood there, uncertain if she should interrupt. She looked from me to Jim and back to me.

"Kelsey, come in. Let me introduce you to a very good friend from three streets over. Kelsey, this is Jim. Jim, this is Kelsey. Kelsey is my housekeeper. You know how bad my cleaning habits are, so I decided to advertise for someone to do my house. And Kelsey answered the ad. She is doing a great job for me."

Jim stood politely, and Kelsey walked over to shake his hand. Jim's mouth was still not working properly, and he could not keep from looking at her outfit.

"Jim, it is not polite to stare," I chuckled.

"I am so sorry. Kelsey, it is my pleasure, although I can never remember meaning that as honestly as I do right now." Jim had apparently recovered, and his personal charm was pouring out all over the scantily-clad woman. "I have heard about and seen a number of French Maid outfits, but never worn by an actual maid before, nor one who is as beautiful as you are."

"Yes, well, Kelsey agreed to the outfit as a condition of her employment, Jim." I was a little uncomfortable in the situation.

"So Kelsey cleans your house, huh?" Jim's grin was unmistakable in what he didn't say.

"Actually, Jim, Todd wanted two things from me: a little cleaning and more than a little entertainment. I agreed to both." Kelsey seemed to enjoy the moment, and gave a huge warm smile along with her explanation.

"Well, I can see that he is getting more than a little entertainment!" Jim's smile was just as huge and warm as hers. Then he seemed to burst out with, "Damn! Kelsey, you are simply gorgeous. Do you work for a company or something?"

"No, Jim, Todd took out an ad and I answered it. This is my first time doing something like this. It is just between Todd and me and it is strictly business." There was finality in her voice that almost stifled any more discussion.

"Well, Kelsey, don't let me interrupt anything. Todd and I were just discussing some business - it was nothing confidential or anything. Please continue." Jim looked at me, and I looked at Kelsey.

"Kelsey, do you need to do this room?" I felt uncertain with the question.

"Just a little, if it won't interrupt anything." She smiled, first at me and then at Jim.

"No interruption at all. Have at it." I gestured toward the room. Jim and I sat back down to continue our discussion, and Kelsey began to straighten some furniture and pick up some things that seemed scattered around the room.

But no matter how hard I tried to continue the discussion, I could not seem to get Jim interested. And after a few minutes, I found myself to be as distracted as Jim seemed to be. Everything Kelsey did seemed performed to offer us maximum entertainment. Kelsey straightened some couch cushions, giving both of us a view of her boobs. She picked up two remote controls by turning her back to us and bending over at the waist, confirming the fact that she was not wearing panties. When picking up a crumpled napkin near the wall-mounted TV, she seemed to stay bent over for several seconds longer than necessary. And her posing seems to be having its effect on both of us. Kelsey surreptitiously glanced over and saw me sitting there trying to hide my erection, and saw Jim making no attempt to hide his rather substantial hard-on. If anything, Jim was proudly displaying it.

Oh My God!

thought Kelsey, as she turned away.

He must have at least nine inches in his pants!

By the time she started to vacuum the carpet in the room, we were making no attempt to continue our conversation. Jim openly rubbing his erection through his pants, and I was tempted to do the same. Kelsey was pushing the vacuum in all directions at one, with the only discernable pattern being the flashing of her bare ass and pussy to us. And all three of us were aware that Kelsey was really being turned on by the audience - her pussy lips were swollen with excitement and her juices were trickling down the insides of her thighs.