The Maid Pt 01 2

Prologue

This is the first of a series (whose length is as yet undetermined) of stories about an erotic friendship between an Englishman in his mid-thirties and a woman significantly older than him from the Philippines. As the title suggests, she works as his maid, coming to his home once a week on a Friday afternoon to clean house for him. The Englishman is partly an autobiographical portrayal of the author's younger self. The maid character is based on a woman the author knew slightly, was enormously attracted to, but never had a relationship of any kind beyond acquaintanceship with. The names of the characters are fictional. The erotic scenes in some cases draw upon the author's own experiences with other women, and in other cases, they are invented. Most of the story takes place in a country in the Middle East and later episodes will be set in the Philippines and possibly elsewhere. Episodes will be no longer than 5000 words, making them a fairly quick read.

Do You Remember The First Time?

Mid-Afternoon on a Friday in November

It was uncanny that she should have asked him if he remembered their first time when that was what he was thinking about.

'Of course I remember it,' he said.

'It's our six months anniversary,' she said, 'and that's probably why I thought of it, the first time.'

'Six months, once a week. That's about twenty-five times.'

'it could have been longer, but you took so long to make a move on me.'

'Yes. I did, didn't I?'

'Why was that?

'I don't know. A bit of shyness. I wasn't sure how you would react. I didn't want to seem to take advantage. I employed you as a cleaner. I didn't want you to feel like you had to, if I made a move on you.'

'I know how to say no.'

'I know that now,' he said with a laugh.

'What do you mean, laughing like that?'

'You're quite a woman.'

'The first time I came, I didn't think you would keep me on.'

'Why?'

'Most men your age, if they're single, or if they live alone, they want a young girl to come and clean for them. Then, they start dating.'

'Are we dating?'

She raised her eyebrows and laughed. 'No, we're not dating,' she said.

'Ok, so what do we call it?'

'Does it have to have to have a name?'

'Not really.'

'Do you enjoy it?

'Yes, a lot.'

'So do I. So, we can call it 'something we enjoy.''

' We could go on a date.'

'Yes, we could, and I could say you are my nephew taking me out for lunch.'

He laughed.

'If it's not broken, don't fix it,' she said. One thing he knew about her. She was wise.

Her life had made her that way, but he knew little of her life.

'I realised why you kept me on after I'd been a few times.'

'Was it very obvious?'

'I know when a man wants me.'

'God, I wanted you.'

'But you didn't do anything about it. I waited and waited, but in the end, I had to invite you!'

'I know. I'm sorry about that now. The thing is, you never gave me a clear sign that you would have responded positively.'

'Would you have made a move on me if I was younger?'

'Probably, yes.'

'It's funny. Younger men are shy, where older women are concerned. And us old ladies should be grateful to receive the attentions of a younger man.'

'Have you had many younger men?'

'A few, but don't ask too many questions. The more we know about each other...'

'I remember how you made your move.'

She giggled. 'I decided to be direct, matter of fact, because I knew you would say yes.'

'Yes.'

'Did you know I was going to ask you?'

'No, but the tension in the air that afternoon.'

'Yes, it was strong. You could feel it in the air.'

'So, we were sitting at the table in the kitchen and you'd made me coffee. We were talking and I asked you about girlfriends, to open the subject.'

Six Months Earlier

'I imagine you will be out with one of your girlfriends at the weekend.'

'I don't have a girlfriend.'

'Really? Good looking boy like you.'

He laughed.

'The women I meet when I go out are all so young.'

'You're young.'

'I'm thirty-five.'

'That's what I mean. You're young.'

'But the women you meet here, they're all about twenty.'

'Young Filipinas want foreign husbands, and they often go after older men; much older than you.'

'That's not what puts me off them. I just don't find myself attracted to young women.'

Now was her moment.

'So, what are you attracted to?

Now it was his moment.

'Women my own age.' He hesitated and then added, rather self-consciously, 'and women older than me.'

She had the advantage of him now and she took it. 'As old as me,' she asked, but it was not a question.

'Yes,' he said. He felt a little dazed. He still could not quite believe this was happening, even though he had dreamt of it since he had first seen her.

'Hmm, you should have said so before. You've made me wait three months.'

'You mean....'

She is intelligent and shrewd, despite being not well educated; an excellent judge of character who understands people quickly, especially men.

'I mean,' she said teasingly, 'I've been waiting for you to make a move on me since the second time I came here.'

'You knew.'

'Of course.'

'How old are you?,' he asked. After three months of agonizing over how to approach her, he could relax and his confidence returned, for usually he was confident about approaching women.

'How old am I? I'll tell you afterwards.'

She stood and came around the table. She gestured to him to stand. He was quite a lot taller than her, making kissing a little complicated. However, she did not try to kiss him, or invite him to kiss her. She unzipped his fly and took his cock out from his trousers. He was already fully erect.

'Lovely cock,' she said, as she began slowly to pull his foreskin up and down over his cockhead. 'Big and hard,' she purred. 'You like Marietta, don't you?'

'Yes' he gasped.

'Go to the bedroom. I'll join you in a few minutes.'

As she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, she said to herself, 'and to enjoy me, you're going to have to like a fleshy belly, small saggy tits, cellulite, wrinkles, and much more.' She was joking with herself, but it was also an admission of fear. To the men she had sex with, she appeared brazen and confident, because she knew that confidence hides all manner of doubts and flaws, but beneath the confidence and brazenness, she was self-conscious about her body, and especially when she presented herself nude to a man almost thirty years her junior.

Marietta was not beautiful; nor had she ever been. The type of man who scores women out of ten would, on a casual glance, say, when she was young, she was a five. She was a little plain looking, until you looked at her carefully, and then you would see her properly. She was well-preserved for a woman of her age, and with the aid of a little make up and subdued lighting, she passed for ten years younger than she is, and the little make up she wore; a little foundation and a little powder to conceal the wrinkles around her eyes, and a touch of lipstick, always red, paler sometimes, bright crimson when she wanted attention, did their work well. She was slim and quite short; no more than five feet and one inch.

She has an air of confidence and vivacity about her, a woman without fear; a woman who does not doubt herself. She did doubt herself sometimes however, because we all do, but she hides her doubts well though, because her confidence in her attractiveness is still stronger than her fear that she is losing her looks. Most importantly, she knew the great and beautiful secret that all women learn as they grow older: looks are a bonus, but they are not essential to a woman's (or a man's, for that matter) attractiveness.

Despite not being anyone's idea of a raving beauty, Marietta never had any difficulty in attracting a man, when she wanted him or, to put it more precisely, when she wanted him to want her. Marietta's asset in the game of attraction and desire is that she is sexy. She is incredibly sexy, but only the man who takes the time, or is given the opportunity, to look into her eyes will see it, burning slowly, smouldering away inside her. true sexiness in a woman (and a man for all I know) comes from inside. It is not primarily about looks, but about what character endows looks with. It is a quality of personality, or perhaps the outcome of a combination of qualities; the most significance of which is confidence, real and feigned.

Marietta also loved sex and was very adventurous. She had no doubt that Will would want her. The flaws in her body, the marks of age that she had highlighted were beside the point. And anyway, as she discovered, they were among the things about her that excited him so much.

Mid-Afternoon on a Friday in November

They continued to talk for a while and when the clock marked five to four, Marietta said she should go. She got out of the bed and went to the bathroom to shower. At four thirty, she was ready to leave. She had put back on her sweatshirt and jeans and trainers, and she was wearing a light jacket too, because the weather was beginning to turn cold as winter approached. She went to the kitchen to pick up the envelope with her money for cleaning. It was a generous amount; far higher than the going rate for cleaning. That was how they managed it. She looked inside the envelope before putting it in her handbag and smiled. That will help to pay my grandson's university tuition fees, and I had a good time making it. She smiled to herself at that pleasant thought.

He thanked her as she stood inside the front door, putting on her trainers.

'See you next week,' she said, kissed him on the cheek, thanked him, and opened the front door and left.

Will went back to bed. He picked up the novel he had been reading, Sentimental Education by Gustave Flaubert, but after a few pages, he found himself unable to concentrate. His mind was on their first time. As he thought of it, his prick grew erect again and he began to masturbate and relive it in his mind.

He went to his bedroom, stripped off and got into his bed. He did not pull the quilt over himself. He lay there, erect, waiting for her. He was wildly excited and felt like a boy again, almost fearful; of what was coming. He composed himself. he was thirty-five, experienced, he had had many women. As he lay there on the bed, he regained control of himself, and by the time he heard her coming from the bathroom where she had prepared herself, he was relaxed and composed and confident that he would perform. She was keen to perform too. The first time with any man was crucial. Her aim was to give him the greatest experience of his life and leave him wanting her more.

She certainly made an entrance. She was wearing a tiny red bra and a red G-string. He almost shot his load at the sight of her, but it was not her underwear that had that effect. It was her tattoos. He had never imagined she would have tattoos, and he liked a woman with a lot of tattoos. She had many. She was covered in them. Afterwards she told him she thought the present count was fifteen; some large, some small. She had tattoos on her arms, her legs, her back, her stomach, her thigh, her arse cheeks, her ankle, her foot, one close to her pussy, but when she was wearing the long sleeved sweatshirt and jeans and trainers she wore when she came to clean, you could not see any of them.

She saw his look of surprise. 'I was hoping you like tattoos'.

'I do, but I never imagined you'd have them.'

She was carrying a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

'I didn't know you smoked,' he said.

'Occasionally, she said. 'Do you mind?'

'No, go ahead.' He had quit a few years before, but he liked to watch a woman smoke. She pulled one from the pack and he watched as she lit it, slim fingers, nails painted brilliant red. She took a drag and said, as she exhaled a plume of some into the air,

'Cigarettes go well with sex.'

She was impressed by the size of his cock. She like them big. She reached for it and began to stroke it and continued to smoke her cigarette. She leaned over him, took another drag and with her mouth open around his cock, she exhaled. As the smoke drifted from her mouth, she closed her lips around his cock and began to suck him off. She was an expert fellatrix. He gasped and bucked and she knew he would cum quickly. She wondered, should she take him all the way. She decided she would slow it down, then suck him to climax, then ready him to fuck her. She did not want him to ejaculate too quickly when they were fucking.

She stopped and stood up, and it was only when she reached behind her back to unclip her bra, that he took in her underwear.

'Red is my favourite, he said, and added, 'were you wearing those under your clothes when you were cleaning?'

He paused and stopped unhooking her bra and told him, 'no, I keep them in my handbag, - in case I need them.' She smiled knowingly as she said it.

He fixed his eyes on her. he watched to watch as she took off her bra. She took her time. When she took it off, her small breasts fell forward. They were saggy, which he loved. She had a ring in her left nipple and another tattoo, a small heart above her pierced nipple. Unlike the rest of her tattoos, which had clearly been the work of a professional, this one looked old and homemade. He liked it.

She watched him looking at her, and his eager admiring eye told her that he liked what he saw. She decided to raise his desire for her further. She put her cigarette into her mouth and placed her foot on the edge of the bed. Her G-string panties concealed little. The string sat between her large pussy lips. She took her cigarette from her mouth and reached down and ran her fingers over her pussy. She stared down at him.

He held her gaze. 'Beautiful,' he sighed.

She sat down again beside him and leaned over his body and took his cock in her mouth again. Between sucks, she finished her cigarette and stubbed it out, and then she sucked his balls, all the while gently grazing his prick with her fingernails. When she wanted to suck him again, she told him to him to stand beside the bed and she sat in front of him and got back to work. She looked up at him the whole time, maintaining eye contact. She went slowly at first and then faster as she felt him getting closer. She stopped to say,

'Come on baby, give Marietta your spunk. Come on, cum in my mouth, baby.'

Her words increased the pitch of his excitement and in another thirty seconds he shot his sperm over her lips and onto her tongue. She maintained eye contact as she took his sperm.

She did not go to the bathroom to wash. She left his sperm on her face. She lit anther cigarette and told him to lick her. He positioned himself between her legs and admired her shaved pussy. She had large, meaty cunt lips and her hole looked small and tight. he began to finger her and she moaned. He spread her with his fingers, his eyes feasting on the sight of her wet pink hole.

He leaned closer and licked first one lip and then the other. He gently sucked each one before sliding his tongue inside her. she writhed slowly and sighed more and more deeply as he licked her.

He indicated to her to change position, and it was as if he instinctively knew what she enjoyed most. He placed his head on the pillow and gestured to her to straddle his face, and lean against the headboard of the bed to balance herself. This was her favourite position to receive cunnilingus.

It was his favourite to give it. She felt the urgency with which he licked her, pushing his tongue into her as hard as he could. She took note. Face-sitting, a little sub, perhaps. Good. Marietta liked to be dominant with the men who liked to submit to her, and she has a particular favourite method of dominating her more submissive lovers.

Will felt the trickle of her juices into his mouth increase and he savoured the taste of her warm salty secretions. He loved to drink a woman's bodily fluids, all of them.

She gasped as she came and her body shook. She remained still for a little while after she had come and then moved herself into position and without a word, she stared down at him and sat on his cock, and despite her tightness and the thick girth of his cock, which licking her out had made fully erect again, her pussy swallowed him with ease. She rode him fast and hard and heard him cry 'yes, yes, yes.'

She replied with a stream of filth. She loved to talk dirty. She got off and laid on the bed and told him to fuck her. He got on top of her and held his prick in his fist at the entrance of her cunt and pushed it in. They fucked hard. The way she pushed up at him to meet his strokes was almost aggressive. He responded in kind and fucked her faster and harder still. She dug her fingernails into his back. She came first with a shout and a cry of pleasure. He followed her quickly, filling her cunt with sperm as he felt her juices run over his balls.

'That was fan-tast-ic,' he told her.

Affecting a corny American accent, she said, 'you ain't seem nuthin' yet,' and laughed.

'You said you'd tell me how old you are, afterwards.'

'So I did.' She decided to put him on the spot. 'How old do you think I am?'

He paused. He thought she was mid-fifties, so he said, 'fifty or so.'

She smiled and said, a lot of or so. I'm sixty-three.'

'Wow! You don't look it,' he said, genuinely surprised.

She did not say anything. She knew she looked younger than she is, and his guess of fifty or so she liked. It was not too low, which would be transparent flattery. And she saw through him sufficiently to know that fifty or so meant mid-fifties.

'You've seen me in all my aged glory,' she joked, that little anxiety she had about her looks showing itself momentarily, but he did not notice.

He had already realised that flattery would not work with her, so he said, 'you don't look twenty-five, but you do look like what I like.'

'You really are into old ladies, aren't you?

'Yes.'

'Have you had many?'

'A few.'

When she returned from the bathroom, she was about to tell him how this was going to work between them, but she noticed his awkwardness, and she knew its cause, but before she could say anything, he began to speak.

'I have a friend who is dating his maid. He told me when they started out, before they were dating, he would give her, er, more for cleaning.'

She smiled and said, 'that would be nice. You're generous to me and I'm generous to you.'

As she was leaving, she said. 'same again next time.'

Definitely, he had thought to himself, after she had gone.