The last thing she wanted them to know was that she liked it, too. She kept a blank face and a professional demeanor, but the truth was, she liked to be watched.
Alayna especially the blatant ones, like this one. She could feel his eyes on her, even though she was facing the other way, dusting a bookshelf. She knew that once she turned around, he would be sitting in his office chair without the pretense of a book or a newspaper. Mr. Kalvin was one of her regulars, and one of her favorites.
She knew she looked good, although outside of work she was not one to flaunt it. Quite the opposite. She wore baggy sweaters and thick glasses. Very unlike her current uniform: high heels, a tiny cheerleader style skirt, and a pair of cherry red thong underwear. She also had applied red rouge to her nipples, which were standing tall and proud.
One of the reasons she was so popular was that she was all natural. Most of the other girls had giant plastic boobs, and did this work as a supplement to their nightly strip acts. They had dyed hair, cake make-up, and inch-long brightly painted nails. Alayna's style was simple, and it set her apart. Her hair was dark, chin length and curly She wore very little make up, in fact, more generally went on her nipples than her face. She had the sort of fair, smooth complexion and naturally rosy lips that she needed little more than some gloss. She had a delicate, pretty, almost elven face, but what most men noticed was her body. She was of average height and a healthy weight – she was lucky enough to carry it all the right places, from her long, toned legs, to her womanly hips and tiny waist, up to her C cups that were so perky that non professionals often assumed that she had work done. The perfect hourglass, she was.
As she bent over to reach the lower shelves, she knew just how much she was displaying and she secretly loved it. It wasn't only the cool air that kept her nipples hard. It was the eyes upon her, enjoying the sight of her. It was also the men enjoying her obedience, and her ability to obey and to please them. She smiled sweetly as her client asked her to sweep and dust and polish. And when her time was up, she left with a sizable check and a sexy feeling.
It was simple and it was honest. The men knew exactly what to expect, and she knew exactly what to give. It was so different than life outside of work, made messy with emotion and expectation and confusion and love. Alayna knew that she was, in some ways, using work to fill a void in her life. And that it probably wasn't healthy. But, for now, it worked for her.
Topless housecleaning wasn't something that she planned on doing for long, at any rate. She was a freelance photographer, working to get the money for her own business. She started doing the work because it paid ten times more than anything else she could have done (and was willing to do). It was a huge surprise to her when she found she responded to it, sexually. At first it alarmed her, almost made her quit. But Alayna found she was able to control it and conceal it. It wasn't a full fledged, near orgasm kind of state, anyhow. It was more a quiet buzzing, and alertness of sexuality. It felt great.
Perhaps it felt so good because she had bottled up her sexuality for so long. She grew up in a strict household, but even after she left, she had a quietness about her turned men away. As beautiful as she was, she intimidated them, though she did not know it. A part of her still felt the shame that her upbringing had instilled in her; a growing part of her reveled in her sexuality.
Of course, some of her clients were creeps. There was a strict no touching rule, set in place by the agency, and there were safeguards in place just in case. She never got into a dangerous situation, but quite frequently they asked her for a "premium service". If they ever got rude or aggressive, she would either leave at once or never go back. The ones she liked also liked her, so she had built a nice base of regulars.
Her second appointment today was in a new client's house, for an introductory half-hour service. She was pleased to find Mark Anderson to be a tall, good looking man in his early thirties. He had thick dark hair and a charming smile. His eyes scanned her body warmly, as she tried to not be obvious about scanning his. She could tell he was in shape.
"I'm Ana, here from the Naturally Clean Maid Service. May I come in?"
He grinned and stepped out of her way. "Of course."
"I presume you went over the details and the rules of the service with the office?" she asked. Alayna was never as overtly flirty as some of the other girls. Her sexiness came from the way she moved her eyes and her mouth and her body. It wasn't that she was entirely unaware of her sexuality. It was that she didn't try to control it.
"Indeed. And you have a contract for me to sign?" he asked. He was several feet away, and she could faintly smell him, something woodsy with a hint of musk.
Alayna gave him a genuine smile. "I do. Do you have any questions?" She asked as she fished for the paperwork in her satchel.
"You will clean what I ask you to?"
"Yes, within reason."
"Can I talk to you while you work?"
"Yes," she said. What he didn't know was that this was unusual for her. She generally told her clients that she preferred to work to music, without conversation. But there was something straightforward and sexy about Mark that made her say yes.
"Do you enjoy your job?" he asked.
She froze for a moment, but quickly caught herself. "I could think of both better and worse things."
He scratched his signature on the contract and smiled. "I think we're all set," he said.
Alayna nodded. "We are. Where would you like me to start?"
"The living room, if you could dust, please."
She caught his eyes and smiled demurely as she unbuttoned her light overcoat and slowly let it slip from her shoulders. By the client's request, she wore a tiny, frilly black and white apron that tied around the waist, a white thong, and black lace-up boots. Her nipples were rouged and already standing attention.
He was close enough to touch her and every instinct in his body told him to do just that. But held back, whetted his dry lips, and led her to the living room.
His living room was not the messy bachelor pad she expected. It was relativity tidy, with light wood floors, large windows and several dozen houseplants. Shelves mounted to the wall displayed good taste in art, as did the framed photos he had hung around the room. There was a large sectional sofa and coffee table, and no television to be seen. Instead an antique hi fi system was the focal point of the room.
"The plants need to be dusted. Well, more than that, but I'm not sure you have time for it all," he said.
She smiled. "There's only so much I can do in half an hour. Perhaps, one or two plants," she said wryly.
Mark chuckled. "Do your other clients ever complain about your cleaning skills?"
"Never." Alayna approached a large, broad leafed plant that sitting on a side table, and Mark followed her. He stood three feet away, which felt very close to her.
"I don't imagine they do." Her eyes were no longer trained on his. "Is it hard to do this work?"
She shrugged. "It was at first. After my first day I was sure I would never do it again." She focused on gently dusting the leaves of the plant and not the small knot that was forming in the pit of her belly.
"Why did you go back, then?" he asked.
"I got had a good talk with the owner of the service." She glanced at him to find him starring unashamedly.
"What did they say?"
"That it gets easier. And that she'd give me more money."
"So you do it for the cash?"
She caught his eyes for a second, and looked away. "I'm starting a business. I'd like to open the doors before I turn 30." Her tits swayed just a little as she dusted, her nipples felt like points of fire.
"How long do you have?"
"I'm not to give out personal information."
"Ah, sorry." He took a step closer, she caught his scent again. It was intoxicating.
She shot him a warning look. He was now two feet away and her pussy began to thump. "You're marvelous," he whispered. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"
She paused a long moment. "It's okay," she said, trying to hide the shake in her voice. Usually the kind of feelings she got while doing her work was more like a mild background noise. This was different.
He starred in silence for a while, until she finished with that plant. "Would you get the one hanging from the ceiling next? I'm afraid it hasn't been done in awhile."
Alayna glanced up. "Of course. Do you have a stepladder?"
He did, and he brought it to her. Of course she had seen this trick before – the men always wanted and excuse to look up her skirt. Or apron, as was the case today.
The ceilings were high and she climbed to the top of the three step stepladder and began to dust. He stood underneath and watched for several silent minutes.
"Ana, would you stand with your feet apart, please?"
She could have said no. She could have left and never come back. She could have scolded him, or pressed her knees firmly together, or any number of other things. Instead, she did as he asked, and felt the heat of his gaze set her pussy on fire.
They didn't speak much for the rest of her time, but she felt his wonder and his sweetness and his power. To reward him, she dropped the duster so that she could slowly bend over to retrieve it. She heard him groan quietly.
The clock chimed and Alayna put down her duster. "That's time," she said.
Mark nodded, but blocked her path as she headed for her overcoat. "Wait," he said.
She looked at him quizzically, sincerely hoping he would not find some clumsy way to offer money for sex.
"You...you really liked that, didn't you?"
Alayna was speechless, torn between the truth and what she thought she was supposed to say.
"I saw you. Your panties were wet."
"Please let me through," she said, with an edge in her voice.
"Ana, no. I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be a jerk, or to ask you for anything. I'm just...curious."
He really did not seem like a jerk. And, despite her alarm bells, or perhaps because of them, she answered him. "Okay, fine. I do like being watched, okay?"
Mark smiled. "That's what makes you so perfect. But there's more, isn't there?"
"How do you mean?'
"You like to be told what to do," he said.
Another wall of silence. "I'm sorry, but I really do need to leave now."
This time, he did move out of her way. She shook all the way to her car, out of fear or desire, she wasn't sure.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Alayana got a call from the agency later that day. Mark Anderson wanted to hire her for one hour, once a week, on a recurring basis. She was floored. She had some of clients that hired her once or twice a month, but none more frequent than that. She wasn't cheap. If she took this, what she earned from her sessions with Mark alone could pay her rent plus some. She had her reservations, though. If her reaction to Mark was so strong on her first day, would it become overwhelming? Perhaps it would lessen in time, instead.
But then there was this: she felt like he'd figured her out. Like he knew her secrets. As if somehow, she was more exposed to him than to any of her other clients.
Truthfully, she didn't deliberate for too long. If things got out of hand, she reasoned, she could always call it off.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
For her second appointment with Mark, he requested she wear the same outfit, minus the boots. He wanted her barefoot, which was fine with her. She even got a pedicure for the occasion.
For this day, he wanted her to sweep and mop the floors. He followed her from room to room as she worked, but did not hover like he did the first day. He didn't speak much, but he did ask her to do a few simple things for him, which she did.
The effect on her was odd. Yes, she was turned on, but she found herself wanting him to be closer. But she couldn't ask him that without asking for trouble. Instead, she started asking him questions.
Mark was 32. He had inherited some money but went to school to become a sound engineer. He himself played music, but only casually.
"Why don't you make your own album?" Alayna asked.
"I'm working on it," Mark said. "Now it's my turn to ask you something."
"Okay."
"Did you like posing for those photos for your agency profile?"
Feeling comfortable, she decided to be straight-up. "I did."
Mark grinned. "I could tell. You were the only one that seemed to be enjoying herself. It was beautiful."
