The Favorite Client
By: Asrai Devin
Tags: Short Story, Smut, Sex, Fiction, Erotica

Score, Mr. Rodes was home. I pulled a skirt on over my pants then wiggled the pants off. Usually it was better when the client wasn’t home when I cleaned their house, but Mr. Rodes was Hot. And he was a gentleman, not watching me blatantly like some husbands, but I felt his eyes on me often enough to engage in the occasional fantasy.

In the back of my van I grabbed my cleaning supplies and used the code on the front door to enter. “Hello,” I called as I walked in. “Mr. Rodes, it’s Esme come to clean your house.”

He appeared around the corner in jeans and a t-shirt, freshly showered as his hair was still wet. “Hello Esme. Call me Tim, please.” He held out his hand.

I grasped his offered hand and electricity sparked up my arm. His eyes widened as he gave mine a firm shake, but he didn’t let go. Our eyes met and my heart pounded, belly swirled, breasts tightened. My cleaning supplies slipped from my grasp and clattered to the floor. “Shit, sorry.”

We jerked apart and unlike most clients he bent to help me gather the supplies. I paused when everything was tidied up, the scent of the soap he used wafted to me and I closed my eyes with a sigh. Once, I realized what I’d done, I scrambled back. “I should — “ His eyes were on me as my body suffered a cold wave of embarrassment, then hot under his gaze.

“What was the sigh for?” He placed his hand over mine, making my heart beat out of my chest.

“You smell nice,” I squeaked. “Sorry, I’m being unprofessional. I’ll get to work.” If I wasn’t careful, I’d be fired for sexual advances.

He shook his head and moved closer to me. “You’re perfect.” His hand traveled up my arm until he was caressing my face.

“Mr… Tim.” I licked my lips, my body throbbing as I moved closer.

“Will you report me if I kiss you?” His thumb traced my lower lip, stopping my breath.

I shook my head. “Only if you promise not to report me.”

“Never, your work is perfect and forgive me for being shallow, but you are gorgeous.”

“Thank you.” I looked down at the floor.

He grabbed my chin and kissed me, firm lips moving across mine. I put my hands on his shoulders, tipping my head to the side, mouth opening, and flicking my tongue against his lower lip. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against him, moaning as our tongues met, slick and hot. Not the only part of me that fit that description, I ground against him, feeling him hard.

He pulled his mouth off mine, kissing my neck, biting. “We should — we’re in the entryway.” He stands and takes my hand to help me to my feet. “To my bedroom.”

“What about…?” Mrs. Rodes, his wife. I shouldn’t… I licked my lips tasting him, as we stare at each other, a stand off, my body throbbing with want.

“Trust me, my wife doesn’t care about my affairs, she’s too busy with her own.” He wrapped his arm around my waist again, anchoring me close, as his hand pulled my skirt around my waist, his fingers rubbed over the wet crotch of my panties. “You’re so wet already, Esme. It would be a shame to miss out. Would you let me taste you?” He rubbed my clit through my panties and my knees and control weakened.

“Yes.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, taking my hand and pulling me through the house, my skirt still around my waist. In his bedroom, a definite masculine bedroom, he pulled my panties down, lips settling over mine as he eased me onto his bed. He pulled my shoes, socks and panties off, leaving my lower body bare to him.

His lips curved into a smile as he looked me over, standing over me, his fingers tracing my slit. “So fucking lovely,” he murmured. “Not shaved, but beautifully trimmed for my pleasure.” His fingers dipped between my pussy lips, wetting his fingertips before he rubbed my clit.

All thought left my head, my hips lifted, legs parted, wanting more.

“So greedy already.” His fingers left me, but he bent between my legs, his tongue slithering along my cleft. My eager body opened for him, my clit bursting from its concealed spot to demand his attention. And he was more than amenable to my wants, licking, sucking the throbbing center until my body tightened to the breaking point. I squealed, vibrating until I was lax, panting.

I grabbed at my skirt, wanting to push it down. He caught my hand, his free hand removing his pants. “Don’t hide from me Esme. I need to feel more of that sweet cunt.” He kicked his pants off. “Stay there while I grab a condom. Not there, move to the pillows and show me those gorgeous breasts.”

“Yes Sir.” I pulled my shirt over my head as I moved to the pillows.

“Just Tim, I’m not the dominant type.”

I tracked him with my eyes while I covered himself with the sheath. I wiggled my sports bra off, the freedom almost better than the orgasm.

He knelt over me, mouth suckling one nipple, fingers pinching the other side. His guided his cock into my pussy, an easy move because there was a river flowing for him between my legs. “Fuck, you’re so slick, so open, but so tight too. Better than I imagined.”

“You’ve fantasized about me?”

“Every time you come here, I jerk off to thoughts of coming behind you while you’re bent over the tub or kitchen counter. Or while making my bed. I have months worth of fantasies about what you had under your skirt. You’ve exceeded my expectations.” He grunted as our bodies rocked together, a gentle rhythm.

“You’re definitely my favorite client, but I never thought this would happen.”

“More than a client now, unless this is a service you offer all your clients.”

He slammed into me, fingers grabbing my sides. Anger? Jealousy? “Just you,” I grunted, meeting his movements, wanting to soothe him, but also enjoying the rough treatment. “Don’t stop.”

He pounded me, fingers clutching my hips. His mouth covered mine, our groans mingling, tongues matching the desperate moves of our body.

I came first, an explosion of white heat and lascivious ecstasy. My body rippled around his steel length, and he grunted against my neck, my name escaping his lips several times. “Esme, oh sweet, oh, Esme.”

I was tender, but his chant spurred me to keep moving against him until he was spent, collapsing on me. He kissed me, his hands stroking where he’d been rough. “Beautiful Esme.” He lifted his head and brushed a kiss over my face.

I didn’t want to move, but I still had to clean his house. After I cleaned myself, I brushed my hair back, trying to put smooth it and my erratic thoughts. He kissed my mouth once more then rolled away.

We dressed in silence, thankfully not awkward. But when I searched the floor, my panties were gone. I smoothed my skirt down as I lifted my eyes to where he clutched them in his fist.

“Can — those are mine?”

“They are mine now, too wet for you to wear, anyway. And next time you come here, don’t bother wearing any or I will own them.”

He kissed my stunned face hard and sauntered out of his bedroom.