*This is the first trip into the Mature part of Literotica. As always, help me improve by giving constructive criticism. It's easy to say the story sucked, but WHY did it suck? Help me out. Or if it was brilliant, tell me what you liked and where I can improve. Have fun!
*
Angela cursed her poor, depressed version of America. Her part of southern Florida had little money and few employment opportunities. She wasn't a fisherman, so she couldn't get into the charter business, which took 95% of local tourism. Her family barely made enough for food selling junk on the side of the road by their house. Arts and crafts, her mother cheerfully referred to them. Angela felt like she was going to live and die within 30 miles of this house.
She glanced at the half-page of want ads. Nothing. She needed a job to go to school, to get the hell out of here. She was 20 years old and chomping at the bit for escape. But there wasn't enough money for her to survive.
"Wait," she said aloud. Her eyes reread the same sentence.
Entry Level Position - Green Glades Retirement Home.
She scanned the fine print. It was a maid position for a retirement home twenty minutes from her house. She immediately called and scheduled an interview.
Two days later, she was hired on and began working, one of two steady wage-earners in her household. Angela made barely over $6.00 an hour, but she was scheduled for 40 hours a week. She was excited to enter the real workforce and not be shackled to a rocking chair while people from Ohio picked through their shit.
Angela rather enjoyed her job. She never minded doing some light cleaning. Half the time she was at work, she was to socialize with the clients. The two dozen of them were very wealthy and fairly old. Almost all male, they were a nice group of people. Many chatted politely, listened to her more then her parents, and offered advice. She wished she could live like this later in life. They had two beautiful pools, manicured lawns, and sat in the shade drinking iced tea and playing chess. Work passed by quickly while she pretended she was a younger version of them, not an employee.
But she wasn't. She worked there and she worked hard. A month in and her manager had complimented her during their weekly staff meeting.
"I know you all are getting to know Angela, but I wanted to say she did a great job getting involved in the activities and still maintaining her responsibilities around here. Thanks, Angela!"
The seven other maids mimicked high-fives and grinned at her. They were a close bunch and supportive of each other. They always helped out and never squealed when someone was late or snuck a nap. They were her older sisters and always helped her out.
"On a more serious note, several of you have complained about Mr. Lemosh. I know he's been problematic before and we're going to have a talk with him again. Some of these guys get a little out of hand with Mrs. Fairn in the hospital with her hip problem."
Laughter broke out at the joke. Mrs. Fairn was what passed for a 70 year-old slut.
"But, honestly, as management, we are here to help you and protect you. Sexual harassment will not be allowed if I have anything to say for it. Our waiting list is a mile long and if we bounce Mr. Lemosh or any other client, we can easily fill their spot. I want you all to be safe."
The maids expressed their appreciation. The meeting was adjourned.
Outside, Angela steered Jane aside. "Jane, what happened?"
Jane was the most senior maid working at the center. She was mid-40s, grizzled in a Truck Stop Diner Waitress sort of way, and was down-to-earth and grounded in reality.
"Well, honey, Jackie and Melissa both said he slapped their asses when they walked by him the other day. These old guys, sometimes jerking off isn't enough and they need to feel the real thing. There aren't strip joints nearby, so they're stuck with us. And I don't want any of their meat hooks on my skin."
Angela laughed, "Who would?"
"Well," Jane answered, "between you and me, five or six years ago, we carried two staff nurses instead of the one now. Maybe she was really hurting for cash, or she needed a thrill, who knows, but she let the guys touch."
Angela was shocked. "Really?"
"Yeah, but for a fee. These old guys have millions stuffed in their banks; they can afford some money for a quick good time. And she was all about it. Hell, it was a win-win-win situation, since those grabby hands stayed away from the rest of us. She made money, they had their fun, and no one squeezed my tush. In a way, I almost kind of miss her service."
"What was her name?" Angela asked.
"Nurse Vernon."
Angela did the math that night. She made about $700 a month. More then half went into supporting her family. If there were a local strip joint, she'd be there, making that much in a few nights. At the rate she was saving money, she couldn't make it out until she was 45, it seemed. Maybe she could weasel hundreds out of her clients for a few glances at her tits. She had a nice body, she stayed in shape, and she liked dancing. Maybe she could be a pseudo-stripper for whoever was interested. That might work.
Angela's chance came later that week. Mr. Lemosh was wandering down the hallway towards his door. He held up a hand as she moved past him.
"My dear Angela, could you do an old man a favor?" he asked.
"Of course!" she responded brightly, "How may I help you?"
"My key is in my front pocket here and my arthritis is killing me. Would you mind fishing it out?"
Angela's mouth went dry and her pulse picked up. She saw the twinkle in Mr. Lomosh's eye and knew what he was playing at. It seemed so creepy. She might have rubbed up against the guy, but this was too much. If he met a price, she'd give him a few seconds of groping. She didn't know how to barter, so she just went with it.
"I'll put my hand in your pocket to find your key for 50 bucks," she said, surprised to hear no trace of nervousness in her voice. She felt like she was trembling and shaking.
Mr. Lemosh blinked and nodded. Angela's hand snaked forward.
