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Help Wanted

By: creativechattel



I was getting older, 49 to be exact. And though I could pass for younger, Hollywood for the most part was a young person's game, and I was getting a little too old for the demand for the young, cute and cuddly. Let's face it, I was a dinosaur, and in the age of "reality" television when episodic drama had all but disappeared, I was definitely expendable. I had worked in the business for a decade plus six, and while I wasn't A-list, I had been a decent writer and able to provide a reasonable living. While it was nothing outstanding, I had been able to secure a fine home, nice cars, vacations and the other niceties of a successful career. Circumstances change...sometimes drastically. My second wife now lived in the house and drove the Mercedes I had purchased for her birthday while I made do in a dingy one-bedroom apartment with my son from my first marriage. I had survived in a tough business and had enjoyed the perks and freedoms of being a writer. Only now, that career choice wasn't too rosy.

My divorce had put a major crimp in the financial situation and I had been out of work for almost two years. With my savings depleted by the divorce settlement, business was never a strong suit, that, and the brutal shark of a lawyer my wife had hired, I was now on the brink of homelessness. With bills piling on my desk, I needed employment in a hurry. Let's face it, I was desperate which led to a desperate decision that put me where I am today.

My ex and I had been friends with a younger couple for 14 years since our kids met at school—my son, now 20—was a couple of years older than their fraternal twins, a boy and a girl--and when I was offered a job working for them, I said yes despite my hesitancy and embarrassment of accepting employment from what had been friends. It was a humbling experience when I was out playing golf with Jeff and he said that maybe something could be worked out. At the time I detected an attitude of slight smugness, but Jeff always had that air about him. He was intelligent, well-educated and while friendly and cordial, I always got the sense that he felt himself somewhat superior to me though it was so subtle that I always checked it off to my own insecurity. Yeah, I might be able to beat him on the golf course, but I'm sure he felt that in the game of life he was ahead.

He was a businessman with his own consulting business and few other side projects. I wasn't sure of his income, but it was well into the six figures, the forty-one-year-old Jeff was doing quite well. Also, he and his wife, Ann, came from fairly well-to-do families. Married while in college and having kids early, they were exceedingly mature for their age when I first met them during the Kindergarten year of school when my son was in the second grade. They were comfortable, and while far from being ostentatious, they drove BMWs and owned a large home in a new subdivision, and pretty much did whatever they pleased, money never seeming to be an issue. I can't say I was ever jealous or envious of their financial comfort; at least I wasn't until the work dried up and I found myself struggling to make rent on the dreary apartment that was home. After the divorce, my wife and I had both remained friends with the couple, though my relationship was much cooler than the one my wife maintained with them, particularly Ann, who remained a close friend to my ex.

I wasn't qualified for most employment, a self-made writer, I had only made it through a year and a half of college. I had come to Hollywood with a briefcase full of scripts and was one of the lucky ones to actually find work. Without any training or education and being on the old side, the work world wasn't exactly clamoring for my services. I was close to taking a supermarket job or something similar, maybe an assistant at a food-fast food place when Jeff said I could come and work for he and his wife. When not involved with their children, his wife assisted with some of the businesses and supervised the maintenance of their household. I'm sure my ex gleefully filled them in on my financial straits, so I wasn't entirely surprised that they said they could use my help. I WAS somewhat surprised I said yes, I guess the thought of looking for a menial job would be more humiliating than going to work for my smug friends.

His wife, Ann, was very attractive, definitely didn't look her age of thirty-nine. Tall and almost too thin, her shoulder-length light brown hair framed a pretty face that might have been a tad long, but nonetheless she was looker. Of course, her smile was perfect, teeth white and straight and she had intense green eyes that flashed with impatience when things didn't go exactly they way she sought. She was a perfectionist and subtly demanding. I knew that working for her wouldn't be easy, that it would be unlikely anything would be complete satisfactory for her judging from the way she would nitpick and complain about every little thing in her life.

Jeff wasn't much better. He was immaculate in appearance and manner. And he had the same perfectionist manner of his wife. More than once I could over hear him on his cell phone upbraiding an employee to do their job right. He wasn't a screamer, but he knew what he wanted and how he wanted things done and accomplished. So there it was, I had say yes and found myself one morning ringing the bell to their house, standing at the door, questioning how I got myself into such a situation.

We hadn't discussed the details of my employment, only that my salary would be five-hundred a week, a far cry from the thirty-grand I used to get for each television script for which I received credit. Jeff had said he was sure they would be able to find something for me to do, joking even if it was only cleaning their house, but that he and Ann always had a need for another hard working person in their life. He said that they could use a secretary...administrative assistant he quickly corrected himself, that they could trust and depend on. He did iterate that he and Ann could be demanding and I said I knew this well, and that I was eager and willing to work hard to please them.

The part-time maid answered the door and said that Mrs. Moore was expecting me in the office. I walked back to the office, which was located in the rear of the house, a house that was decorated with great style and taste even if it leaned a little to the "shabby chic" generic. It felt odd to be in the home when it wasn't a party, play date or social visit. I was anxious and still feeling slightly embarrassed that I had reached the situation for a mercy hiring by my friends. The door to the office was partially opened and I walked in with butterflies roiling in my stomach. Ann was sitting at the desk, typing on the computer keyboard.

"Good morning." I tried to sound cheery and eager to be there, though I had a certain dread running through me.

Ann didn't look up from the computer screen. "You're late."

Thankfully Ann couldn't see me flush red from her comment. Yes, I was late, but only by five minutes and I was struck by the coolness in her voice and that I was starting from a negative as it was evident that she was displeased by my slight tardiness. "Uh, I guess, I'm a couple of minutes late."

"No, five minutes, Mike. I know with your Hollywood job things were a little more casual and that you know us socially and so forth. But this is now a workplace and I expect you to be professional and prompt."

Anger started to swell up within me and I almost turned and walked out as I felt I didn't deserve to be treated quite so abruptly, but I didn't want to fail on the first day and give Ann and Jeff any satisfaction that their standards were higher than mine and I would be unable to meet them. Plus, I really could use the money. "Uh, okay, Ann, I'm sorry, I will be on time from now on."

"Good. Your fine will be five dollars."

"My what?" I couldn't believe she had the audacity to suggest a fine, particularly with the measly five-hundred I was earning.

"Mr. Moore and I will assess fines as we see fit. Keep you motivated and from slacking off."

"You're kidding...right?"

Ann was not happy with my protest. "Look, Mike, these are our rules. If you can't abide by them, then get out."

Damn, I knew she could be tough, but this was a whole different side to Ann. Again, I thought about leaving, but figured the fine thing was simply a ploy to get my attention and wouldn't be much of an issue. "No, no, I don't want to leave. It just seems a little unfair. Particularly since I didn't know about the rule."

"Well you know what they say about law. Ignorance is no excuse."

"Whatever you say, Ann."

"Also, Mike, when you are in a work situation, you need to address me as Mrs. Moore and Jeff as Mr. Moore. Do you have a problem with that?"

Wow, this was going to be harder than I thought. Here was this woman, someone I had thought of as a good friend, someone ten years my junior, instructing me on how to address her. "No problem, Mrs. Moore, you're the boss."

I could see a hint of a smile on her face. "Yes, I am your boss now, Mike. Please don't let our history cloud our understanding of the current situation."

"No, Mrs. Moore, I won't."

"Good." Ann looked up at me, her stern green eyes intensely scrutinizing me.

She looked great. Wearing a skirt and blouse, barefoot, her toes, as always, perfectly manicured, this time in pink with a flower painted on each big toe. I was glad, that if nothing else, I would get to be with her even if I was now in her employ. I stood there for a couple of minutes feeling awkward as I didn't know what I was supposed to do and I didn't want to interrupt her. Finally, I said, "What would you like me to do?"

I could see the familiar wrinkle of irritation cross Ann's face as she raised her right hand as to stop me from talking. "I'll let you know as soon as I'm finished." 

Again, I thought she was being unfairly abrupt. She certainly wasn't making this easy for me. She worked for a few more minutes, before sitting back and looking at the computer screen as if she was scrutinizing her work. But I got the sense she was making me stand there simply because she knew she could.

Maria the maid popped into the room. "Ann, what would you like me to do with these papers on the coffee table?"

Ann looked up and warmly smiled at the maid. "Just leave them on the kitchen table, I'll go through it later."

"Don't forget that I have to leave early today."

"I haven't. Mike will drive you home after lunch. You know Mike right?" Ann said, introducing me to Maria.

I said hello and nodded at Maria who glared back while saying, "Yes, I've seen him before."

"He works for me and Mr. Moore now. And he will be helping you too."

Maria brightened at this comment. "Very good. I always could use help. Much to do around here. I go back to work now."

Maria left. Ann had been so much more friendly and warm with her maid, so much for the workplace formality she had just expressed to me. "Let's see, where was I?" Ann was looking at the computer once again. She then swiveled her chair towards me, bare legs crossed, girlishly bouncing one foot as she looked at me. "What shall I have you do?" She had a smile on her face as if she was enjoying the fact that I was now her employee. "This is a little odd, isn't it, you working for us?"

"Yes kind of..."

"I'll have to admit though, I kind of like it. And I'm sure Joann is going to flip when I tell her you're working for us."

Joann was my ex. I hadn't really given it much thought of her knowing about it since I had been more concerned about getting some cash. I wanted to ask Ann why she liked it, but decided not to press the subject. I had been there twenty minutes, just standing and watching her work as I felt like a fool. There was a chair on the other side of where Ann sat, but she hadn't offered it to me and had made no effort to allow access to it. So I had stood while she worked. I thought it ironic that she had upbraided me for my five-minute tardiness, yet I hadn't done a thing. Typical boss kind of thing. Finally, I couldn't take the idleness anymore. "What can I do for you?"

"Mrs. Moore. Please don't forget the proper manner of respect."

"What would you like me to do, Mrs. Moore?" I repeated resenting having to address her that way.

"Right now, you may clean my car. Vacuum, dust, wash it. You know where I keep my keys. The supplies are in the laundry room. If you need any help finding things, ask Maria."

"Yes, Mrs. Moore," I said, knowing that the keys were on a hook in the kitchen, everything in the house having its proper place.

"Good. You're dismissed."

Dismissed? I felt like a servant and almost let out a sarcastic, yes oh great Mrs. Moore, but I said nothing. I gathered the supplies and went into the garage where the SUV was parked. I passed a large closet full of shoes, as the Moore's had a rule of no shoe wearing inside the house except for guests who didn't wish to remove their shoes or the exception of Maria who wore her thick sole nurse type shoes when she was working. Having a foot and shoe fetish I imagined what it must be like to have to clean and polish Ann's shoes and wondered if that would ever become one of my duties, though it would be humiliating to actually have to clean the shoes of someone who had been my equal and that I had known so long as a friend, nothing in the least kinky or sexual.

But interrupting my brief shoe reverie was the need to clean Ann's ride and I got to work for the next hour and a half cleaning her new X5 trying my best to get it as sparkling as possible knowing Ann's fastidiousness. When I went back into the house around eleven, I found Ann sitting on the plush sectional sofa in the entertainment room and talking on the phone while Maria was sweeping the kitchen that connected to the area where Ann sat. She was laughing about something when I began to sit on the sofa across from her. Phone to ear, looking up at me she shook her head no indicating that I wasn't to sit down on the sofa. What was this? Now I wasn't good enough to sit on her precious furniture?

"Just a sec." She put the phone to her shoulder and said while pointing towards the kitchen, "Go make Maria and me turkey sandwiches and cut up some fresh fruit."

"Yes, Mrs. Moore," I said, quietly seething to myself.

"Did you bring lunch with you?"

"No, Mrs. Moore." I didn't even think of bringing lunch. Ann had always been generous in offering food or snacks during previous visits. I had no reason to think otherwise.

She kind of shook her head and said, "That's too bad. I don't want you eating any of the turkey in case the kids want something later. Maybe after they have had their snacks, you can have a banana or something. From now on, you'll be expected to provide your own food."

I didn't know what to say. I was dumbfounded with her attitude, so I simply said, "Yes, Mrs. Moore," like a robotic idiot.

"Good. I'm glad you understand. Now go!"

I didn't understand. Why was she treating me this way? Why did Maria get to eat her food but not me? And as I pulled the turkey out of the refrigerator to make lunch and seeing that there was enough meat to feed the neighborhood, I realized that there was something more going on than simply having enough food for after-school munchies. I could her hear continue the phone conversation and I realized she was talking with Jeff.

"He's doing all right. It will be an adjustment for all of us. Of course, he started out on the wrong foot by being late...Yes, I fined him." There was a second of silence followed by much laughter from Ann. "Yes, maybe we'll have to do that. He'll learn or else. All right, I'll see you later, darling. Love you." Ann put down the phone after hanging up. "Is that lunch ready?"

I was hurrying to put her turkey sandwich together. I had eaten enough at Ann's house to know how she liked her sandwich prepared. "Getting there, should be a few more minutes."

"You need to work fast, Mike, I don't like to be kept waiting for anything."

"Yes, Mrs. Moore, I'm aware of that. I'm working as quickly as I can."

"That's a good attitude, Mike. I know I can be demanding, impatient, even unfair. But that's just me. You'll have to deal with it."

"Yes, Mrs. Moore, I understand." I quickly finished the sandwiches and cut up the fresh fruit and put them on plates as Ann thumbed through a magazine. "Your lunch is ready, Mrs. Moore."

"That's so cute the way you say Mrs. Moore, Mike. Do you hate addressing me that way?" Ann said standing and walking the few short steps to the kitchen. "Maria that's good," she said to the maid who was puttering around the kitchen.

"No, if that's what you wish, I have no problem."

"Good, Mike, you are more agreeable than I thought you would be. You must have really needed this job."

"Yes, I did..."

Ann was circling her hand for me to finish my sentence. "Don't forget your manners."

"Yes I did, Mrs. Moore."

"And?"

Maria had taken a seat at the table and Ann was standing at an end chair waiting for me to realize that I was to pull out the chair for her to seat down. And? I wasn't sure what she meant by that. "And what? Mrs. Moore?"

The question displeased Ann who snapped as she sat down. "A thank you."

"Oh...thank you, Mrs. Moore for the job." I could see Maria smirking and trying not to laugh as she enjoyed Ann's difficult treatment of me.

"That's better." I placed the plates before Ann and Maria and began to clean up the kitchen. Fixing the food had made me hungry, but I wasn't about to venture into that territory, Ann had made it clear that her food was not available for me.

"Mike. Do you think that Maria and I are some kind of philistines? Where are our napkins?"

Messed up again. "Sorry, Mrs. Moore," I said, scurrying over to the table with two cloth napkins that I pulled out of a linen drawer.

"Apologize to Maria also."

Ann smoothed the napkin into her lap as I handed the other napkin to Maria with my apology. This was a little weird, but I was going to go long with Ann's little game. "Sorry, Maria." I turned to go back to cleaning.

"No wait. I think you should address her as Mrs. Lopez. Show her a little respect. After all, you ARE the probationary employee around here. And since you will be helping her with the household duties, she is going to be your boss too."

This was getting to be too much. The maid was my boss? I flashed back to when I was working in television, the eager assistants hoping to break into the business getting us lunch, doing our errands. I had sunk a long ways, but it could be worse, and I wasn't eager to explore the job world any longer. Besides, there was a little bit of me that enjoyed the new attitude displayed by Ann. "Sorry, Mrs. Lopez."

Maria giggled a little and said, "That's okay."

Maria and Ann discussed Maria's trip back to Central America while I finished cleaning up the kitchen. Ann telling Maria that she would have to train me on the ways of the household. Even though the details of what I was going to be doing was rather vague when I agreed to work for the Moores, I didn't really expect to be doing so much cleaning and such, but that's what looked like would be needed, so that was what I was going to be doing.

After Ann quickly finished her lunch, she said she was going out to inspect the X5 and quickly disappeared. Maria wasted no time asserting her status. "Next time, no tomato on mine."

"Yes, Mrs. Lopez," I said, looking at her, trying to maintain my cool.

"Good. Clean up these plates."

I couldn't believe she was ordering me to do this like she owned the place. "What the..." Before I could go any further, Ann had already returned.

"Mike, are you sure you cleaned my car?" Her voice was full of disgust and she noticed the tomato slices that Maria had left on her plate, one of them with an obvious bite taken out of it. "You don't like tomato, Maria?"


Help Wanted



"No, Ann, it make my stomach hurt. I told him not again."

"Good. I'm sure he won't. I hate to see any food wasted. You eat it, Mike. You said you didn't bring anything with you."

"Yeah, but a tomato..." I could see that the already agitated Ann didn't want to hear my protest. "...will be very good. We all know about the starving kids who would love a tomato," I weakly joked. I took Maria's leftovers and ate the two tomato slices. They weren't that bad and I tried not to think about the one that had a gap from Maria's bite. Anyway, I had worse things on the horizon.

"I want to show you what you missed on the car. Follow me." We went into the garage where Ann slipped on a pair of older sandals and I put on my sneakers, then I trailed after Ann to the driveway where I had left it for her inspection. She proceeded to show me a small streak here and there that a quick wipe erased. And then she showed me a couple of pieces of grass on the carpet and a minuscule amount of sand left in a cup holder and some other dirt far underneath the seats. "Do it right, then take Maria home." Ann turned and quickly walked back into the house. I furiously cleaned the spots she pointed out then returned to the house where Maria and Ann were already saying goodbye.

"I'll see you at nine, Maria," Ann said, giving her maid a hug. "Make sure you open the door for her, Mike," Ann instructed, enjoying her little power trip. "Before you come back, you need to go to the store. Here is a list of things I need." Ann handed me a grocery list and a hundred dollar bill. "Hurry up, you've got a lot of work to do around here."

I escorted Maria out to my old beater of a Camry and opened the passenger door for her. "Sorry about the mess, Mrs. Lopez," I said as the older woman slid into the seat. Maria must have been in her late forties, plump and somewhat matronly. She wore glasses and her teeth were somewhat crooked. She favored print dresses that she probably picked up at garage sales, and always wore pantyhose and those ugly back nursing shoes with the thick soles. She directed me to her house, nothing else being said except this way or that. When we pulled up to the small place on a busy street, she waited for me to get out of the car and open the door for her. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I said trying to be friendly.

"Yes, you have much to learn." Maria walked up the cracked cement sidewalk to her home as a teenage girl came out the door to greet her mother and eyed me suspiciously.

I drove to the grocery store and tore up and down the aisles as fast as I could. I knew it wouldn't be fast enough for Ann, especially after she called me twice on my cell phone adding items that she had forgotten to list. Never mind that they were at the other end of the store. I returned to the house and carried the groceries into the kitchen. Ann emerged from her office and started looking through the bags of groceries to assess my purchases.

"Store must have been busy," she said, inspecting the romaine lettuce I had purchased.

"Yes, Mrs. Moore, I went as quickly as possible."

"I'm sure you did. These grapes taste like crap." She had eaten a test grape then took the rest and threw them into the garbage can. "Don't you know how to pick out fruit?"

"I thought so, Mrs. Moore. It's hard to tell with grapes."

"How much were they?"

I scanned the register receipt. "Three ninety eight."

"Did you get the little spiral notebook?"

"Yes, Mrs. Moore." I was getting nervous and off balance finding myself disappointed that I had let Ann down.

"All right. Add the three ninety-eight to this morning's five dollar fine. That's part of your job to keep track of the penalties you are assessed."

I was going to have to pay for the grapes she didn't want?

"And while you are at it. Fifty cents for the tomatoes wasted on Maria's sandwich."

I tried to protest. "But the tomatoes didn't go to waste..."

"Quiet. I don't want any arguing. If you are going to do that, then leave. Now!"

I should have left, but I couldn't. Jeff had promised to pay me that evening my first week's salary and I needed the money. "No, Mrs. Moore, I won't argue."

"These bananas are a little green, but we'll keep them..."

And on through the grocery sacks, many things earning a criticism. By the time she was finished, I had been fined again, this time five fifty eight for purchasing the wrong deodorant for her. She told me I could either take it back and get a refund or use it myself, but that she expected me to purchase the correct one before I returned in the morning. It was a brand geared for women, so I didn't want to use it. And I needed it to exchange it for the correct kind (though I was sure I bought the correct one in the first place) so I wouldn't be out of any more money. The fine still stood even though I was going to make it right the next morning.

After I put away the groceries, I was told to vacuum and dust while Ann worked on a project. As I cleaned, I began to dread the end of the school day when her children would come home and see me in my new role as their mom's employee. I hoped it would be low key, or even better, I would be dismissed before Nicole and Jordan came home. I was vacuuming the formal living room when Nicole entered the house. She was a senior, 18 years-old. She stopped for a moment when she noticed me in the living room. Gave me a little wave and then went to look for her mom. Though Nicole seemed to always have liked me, she also had the air of privilege and possessed the same keen intelligence of her parents.

A minute later, Ann appeared, again looking displeased. I shut off the vacuum. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Vacuuming," I innocently said, knowing that this wasn't the right answer.

"You didn't see Nicole come home?"

"Yes, I saw her."

"You work for the entire household, Mike, the entire family. I know she is a friend of your son and that you've known her a long time, but you are now her employee and when she comes home from school or any other time, you will check and see if there is anything she needs. Got it?"

I didn't exactly agree to be working for her daughter, but I wasn't about to argue with Ann. "Got it, Mrs. Moore."

I went into the kitchen where Nicole was sitting at the table. Before I could say anything she said, "Mom said you work for me now."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Miss Nicole." Ann was standing right behind me.

"Yes, I work for your family now, Miss Nicole."

"If there is anything you need, you just tell him. And if you ever have any problems with him, if he disobeys you or does something wrong, you tell me so we can correct his behavior."

I was red again, I felt like a dog or something.

"Okay, mom." Ann went over and gave her daughter a hug "That's my baby. All right, I'm going to finish up my project. Mike, after you're done with Nicole, finish your vacuuming then clean the bathrooms. I will warn you ahead of time, there will be fines for incompetence."

"Yes, Mrs. Moore, I'll get right on it."

Ann left the room, I looked at Nicole who was staring at me with a smirk on her face, it was getting to be a familiar look. "Is there anything I can get you, Miss Nicole?" 

"This is kind of cool. I've never really had anyone working for me before."

"Well you do now."

"Did you forget something?"

"...Miss Nicole."

"Going to have to report that to mom."

Whatever. "So, is there anything that I can get for you, Miss Nicole?"

Nicole was still reveling in her power. "Calling my mom Mrs. Moore, that's weird...and me, Miss Nicole."

"It's a matter of respect, Miss Nicole."

"I like it. Well, employee Mike, I want some apple slices with peanut butter."

I simply nodded my head and opened the fridge to prepare the apples.

"Make sure that you peel them, I don't like the skin."

I nodded my head trying to avoid the Miss Nicole thing.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes, Miss Nicole, I heard you."

I quickly prepared her snack as I needed to get to work on the cleaning as I knew that Ann would soon be expressing her impatience. "Here you go, Miss Nicole," I said, laying the plate on the table, peanut butter in the middle surrounded by her apple slices.

"Hey, that looks cool."

Finally, a compliment even if it was from a eighteen-year old. "Thank you, Miss Nicole. I need to go back to my cleaning."

"All right. But I might want something later."

"Just let me know, Miss Nicole. It will be my pleasure," I lied.

I spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning only stopping to fix another snack for Miss Nicole. After an intense scrubbing and it was getting near five o'clock, I finally decided to tell Ann that I was finished with the three bathrooms of the house. She was in the kitchen preparing dinner.

"Mrs. Moore, I'm finished with the bathrooms," I said, feeling childish that I was reporting to her in such a manner. I'm sure Maria never did such a thing.

"Fine. I'll check them when I get a chance. Now, I want you to scrub the laundry room floor."

I looked at my watch once again. "How long were you planning on me working today?"

"...Mrs. Moore." Ann corrected. She wasn't going to let go of that.

"Mrs. Moore."

"Until we're done with you." She returned to preparing her meal.

We hadn't discussed hours, but I assumed it was to be a regular hour gig. Obviously, Ann had different thoughts.

"All right, Mrs. Moore."

As I began to leave, Ann said, "Mike, this isn't going to be easy."

"I understand, Mrs. Moore."

"And I mean scrub that floor, Mike. Hands and knees, buff it clean."

"Yes, Mrs. Moore." I glanced over at Nicole who was watching television, I'm sure she was laughing at me. I got the necessary supplies and began cleaning the bright white tile floor. I scrubbed for about five minutes when Ann appeared in the doorway. Looking up from my kneeling position, she had one hand on her hip, the other hand a crooked finger indicating that I was to follow her. She was imposing and the look on her face meant she disapproved of my cleaning job.

"Come on, Mike, let's go," she huffed.

Now what? I stood and followed her with a dread of pupil going to the principal's office. First visit was the downstairs bathroom where Ann ran her finger along the edge of the basin and displayed the residue of cleaning powder that I hadn't completely removed. "This isn't acceptable. I thought you said this was clean."

I didn't know what to say. I had never seen Ann this angry before, or even angry period. She had hidden this side of her personality. "I'm sorry Mrs. Moore...it won't happen again."

"It better not. That's a ten dollar penalty."

"Ten dollars..." I stopped, no need to escalate the issue.

"And the roll of tissue is to be folded like this." Ann demonstrated a small triangle on the tissue. "That's only going to cost you three dollars. But each time I find that the tissue is not folded properly, you will be penalized." She stopped for a moment as I waited for the next criticism. "Aren't you going to write down those fines?"

"Oh, okay, Mrs. Moore." I pulled the spiral notebook and pen out of my pocket. Ann had instructed me to carry those with me at all times, not only to note my fines, but in case she had something she wanted purchased or something to be recalled.

Gee, she expected me to check the paper every time anyone was in the bathroom? I knew the upstairs bathrooms were the same. I wanted to run ahead and fix them before I was penalized for them, but I didn't have that chance as Ann told me to follow her. We entered the master bathroom and the first thing Ann did was point at the toilet paper that wasn't in a triangle and simply said, "That's another three dollars.

She found a couple of hairs in the tub, a little dust underneath the cabinet and a handle that she didn't think was suitably polished. Another five dollars worth of fines. Onto the children's bathroom where I was informed that fines would be doubled. Again, a few minor flaws that cost me another ten dollars. While we were doing this, Jeff had arrived home. We could hear him talking with Nicole, but the words were indistinguishable. I could see Ann visibly brighten at the sound of her husband's voice, I only wished he had arrived earlier to put her in a better mood. Still, it wasn't going to be easy to see Jeff in my new role. And then I heard another male voice and realized that Nicole's twin brother was home, an arrogant kid who was the typical popular jock at school type.

"Fix what I showed you, finish the floor downstairs while we eat. After dinner, then you can meet with Jeff."

"Yes, Mrs. Moore."

Ann disappeared. It wouldn't take long to finish the bathrooms and that would only leave the laundry room. I was looking forward to going home. It had been a long day.

I finished the laundry room and avoided seeing Jeff. After semi-hiding behind my chores, I could hear them finishing up with dinner that smelled so good, my stomach aching for a meal, Ann only allowing me a banana. I had also bought a candy bar at the grocery store. Ann was calling for me and I had no choice except to face the entire family. I took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen where they all sat around the dining table.

"Hi Jeff," I said,

Ann glared at me and cleared her throat reminding me of my error.

"I mean, hello Mr. Moore."

"Hello, Mike. How was your first day?"

It sucked. "It was fine, Mr. Moore."

"Mike," Nicole said. "Get me more cola." Jeff looked at his daughter with a bit of surprise, but the grins on everyone else's face, except mine of course, relaxed his attitude.

"Yes, Miss Nicole," I said, getting the soft drink from the refrigerator.

"Isn't that cool, dad," Nicole said. "Our own employee. Mom says we can boss him around all we want."

"Oh she did, did she?" Jeff was now smiling at his wife.

"Yep. He has to keep our rooms clean. Fetch us drinks and snacks. Anything we want."

"Well, Nicole, to a point, Mike has certain duties that he must attend to."

"Oh, we know," Jordan, Jeff and Ann's son said. "We know we have to share."

"This is quite a change isn't it Mike? Still want to work for the Moore family?"

"Sure, Mr. Moore."

"Clean off the table and wash the dishes. Then in the office."

Jeff rose from the table. "Let's watch some television."

I watched him for a moment. He was wearing dark slacks, dress shirt, blue socks, his shoes in the garage closet. He moved with arrogant confidence. It was hard to believe this man was in control of my life at the moment. I had beaten him many times on the golf course as Jeff wasn't athletic. In fact, physically, he was kind of soft with a slight belly around his middle. But he never lost that attitude and could dig the knife in whenever needed. I finished up my chores as the Moore family relaxed on the sofas. Jeff and the kids watching a movie, Ann thumbing through a decorating magazine. When I was done, I went over and stood behind Jeff and said, "Mr. Moore, I'm finished."

Jeff looked straight ahead as he firmly said, "Didn't I tell you to go to the office when you were done? Or are you just stupid?"

Stupid. I felt ready to punch him as his kids laughed at the comment. "Well excuse me, Mr. Moore." I couldn't hid the sarcasm in my voice. "I will go to the office now."

"I'll deal with you in a moment," Jeff snapped.

I waited probably forty minutes before Jeff entered the office along with Ann. I was sitting at the desk, moping about my situation "Out of my seat, Mike" Jeff said. "You're not allowed to sit on our furniture."

I stood up and Ann sat in the other chair. "I don't appreciate your attitude," Jeff said as he imitated my "excuse me, Mr. Moore."

"I'm sorry Jef...Mr. Moore. I'm very tired and it's been a long day."

"I don't give a damn about your day or your excuses. You wanted to work for us and we were generous enough to give you a job. If you don't like it, then get lost."

"It's not that..."

"And the way you are going, you'll never make it through the probationary period anyhow. I should fire you right now." Jeff was slinked back in his chair, his fingers interlocking, legs crossed as he studied my reaction.

I don't know what it was, but I was about to cry.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I...uh...I need the job, Mr. Moore."

"I don't like the Mr. Moore, just make it sir."

"I need the job, sir." I was now calling my former pal, sir.

"I don't know, honey. I had to fine him a lot today. I don't know if he is worth the trouble." Ann was enjoying this, watching her husband put me through the ringer.

"True, from what Ann has told me, by the end of the week, you'll be owing us money."

"You were serious about the fines?"

"Of course we were, idiot," Ann said.

I blushed from being called an idiot. Jeff said, "Mike, you have to show us that you really want the job,"

"And how should I do that, sir?"

"Think of something."

I wasn't sure what he wanted, but I sensed this was going to take another direction. For some reason, I was desperate to work for them. "I really really want the job, sir...Mrs. Moore."

"You can call me, ma'am, matches the sir."

"Ma'am."

Jeff got an evil little smile on his face. "Beg for your job. Show us how much you care, how badly you need to work for us."

I had tears in my eyes as I sniveled, "Please, sir, ma'am, may I work for you. I'll do whatever I can for you."

Ann was grinning as she said, "I think the little baby is crying...wah...wah...wah"

Jeff laughed. "You know, when I see someone beg, I think they should demonstrate proper respect for their superiors."

Ann piped in with, "Yes, kneel and beg for your job."

By now, I no longer cared. I fell to my knees, sinking into the carpet and said, "I beg you, sir, ma'am, may I please keep my job?"

Ann also had her legs crossed and was bouncing her leg up and down. I think the whole scene was getting her excited. "I don't know, dear, do we allow him to work for us?" she said dramatically.

Jeff was staring down at me, seriously contemplating something. "I don't know...I suppose we can give it a little more time."

"You're so kind, honey." Ann was sitting next to Jeff and leaned over and gave him a kiss. "Show Jeff your appreciation for his kindness."

"What do you mean, ma'am?" 

"Kiss his feet and say thank you, kind and generous sir for giving this old washed-up loser a job."

"What? Are you kidding?"

"Just do it," Ann sneered.

I looked up at Jeff who shrugged his shoulders as if to say, what can I do about it. I knew this was a now or never moment and was strangely excited by the whole situation. Not kissing Jeff's feet, that was way beyond anything I had imagined, but I wouldn't mind kissing Ann's pretty feet. I crawled forward and quickly kissed the top of Jeff's socked foot and said, "Thank you for your kindness and generosity, sir in giving this old, washed-up loser a job," just as Nicole appeared in the doorway.

"What are you guys doing?"

I couldn't see her reaction, but it must have been amazing to see me in this position. And how much did she hear? It was true, I was a washed-up loser.

"Is he kissing your feet, dad?"

"Don't worry about it, Nicole, we'll be done in a moment." Jeff was not pleased by his daughter's appearance.

"Can I make him kiss my feet too?" she eagerly asked.

"We'll talk about it later," Ann said, "go back to the television."

"Sure."

"And shut the door," Ann added.

The door shut and Ann said, "Now, where were we?"

"Mike was thanking me." Jeff sounded pleased.

"That's right," Ann said. "Do it again and mean it. And Jeff has two feet."

"Yes, ma'am." I once again kissed the top of Jeff's crossed over foot, then scrunched over further and kissed the foot that was on the ground. Jeff's feet had a moderately strong aroma and it was enormously humiliating to be kissing them. As I was doing this, Ann had picked up a digital camera from the desk. 




Help Wanted



"Again," she commanded, "I want a record of this."

I once again kissed each foot, Ann taking a picture each time, making me pose so she could make sure my face could be clearly seen.

"All right, do the same for your Mistress," Jeff said.

"What was that?" Ann asked, a curious excitement in her voice.

"It seems appropriate. After all, we practically own him. Ma'am is ok for public stuff, but Mistress Ann has a cool ring to it. Not quite so matronly."

"Yeah, I like it," Ann mused. "And that means, he should call you Master."

"Yeah, whatever, Master or sir is fine. Go on..." Jeff nudged me on my face cheek with his foot, "Kiss you Mistress' feet."

"Yes, Sir." I kissed the top of each of Ann's feet while Jeff snapped a few pictures with the camera.

"I can't wait until I show these to Joann," Ann said with glee.

"Please don't, Mistress."

"Are you telling me what to do, Mike?" She took her foot and bopped me on top of my head with it.

"No, Mistress but..."

"You just do as your told and behave yourself and we'll see about the pictures. Can you imagine all the moms and dads at school seeing you kissing our feet?" Ann and Jeff were both laughing.

"Yeah, that would make quite the impression." Jeff agreed.

"Ah, look at the little foot kisser, I think he's going to cry some more." Ann loved rubbing it in. "Joann was so right in leaving you. I'm glad I encouraged her to do so."

I had heard rumors that Ann was behind motivating Joann to leave me. Ann had always been so nice previously to me, that I didn't believe it. Now, it was all too easy to believe. So much for the image she projected.

"You have no idea how much we know about you," Ann said. "When Joann was planning the divorce, she asked for my help, which I gladly gave her knowing what a loser you are. And Jeff here, being the computer expert, was kind enough to go through your entire computer history."

I knew I was sunk. The pornographic websites that I used to visit. The movies and stories I downloaded. I'm sure he found it all. They say you tell about everything from a person from their computer and I know that Jeff was a computer expert.

"You are quite the kinky little pervert. Female domination websites, chicks with dicks sites, all kinds of weird stuff."

As Ann spoke, I felt myself go nearly dizzy as if she could see into my being.

"There won't be any secrets, you're going to tell us everything. You're going to live a lot of those things you fantasized about."

"When Ann and I first talked about hiring you, we didn't really know if it would come to this, but if it did, we thought it might be fun to have a wimp to kick around. We need the help, and the one thing you are besides being perverted, is honest and reliable. So no matter what, we figured we couldn't lose. But when Ann called me this morning telling me how easy it was to push you around, that you scarcely raised a voice in protest, that's when I told her to go for it, to keep pushing you. And since we knew that deep down you crave this sort of thing...well, here we are. You on your knees, kissing our feet, crying like a baby begging for your job. There are people in this world who rule, and those that serve, and I always got the feeling you were one of the servers, the pleasers. It looks like I was right."

I had my head down and was staring at the floor. No longer sniveling, I knew that any submissive desires I had were about to explode. Jeff put his foot under my chin and tilted my head up. "Look at your Master when I'm talking to you, boy. At least, when you have permission to look at us."

"Yeah, I'm not so sure I want the scumbag looking at me," Ann chimed in. "In fact, if I see you looking me in the eyes, you will be fined big time. You keep your head bowed in my presence, look at my feet or something, like you do all the time anyway." 

Yes, it was true, I was always looking at Ann's feet. I had no idea that she had noticed. I looked up at Jeff, his dark brown eyes intent as his wife's eyes. His foot still underneath my chin. "You are now our slave, our servant. You will do whatever you're told, without question, without problems. Quickly and to the best of your ability. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Ann and I will continue to fine you as we see fit. We will also begin punishing you for your mistakes. I would advise you to do your best because I would love to take a paddle to that wimp ass of yours which I will do anyway simply because I can."

As I was looking up at Jeff, I began to feel genuine fear as he talked of the paddle realizing that he was serious about being a Master. Despite his arrogant nature, I never suspected he would be into such a dark and kinky area.

"There is a lot we will have to be going over, but I don't want to take the time right now. I'm sure the kids are quite curious about what's going on in here after Nicole saw you kissing my feet." Jeff was smiling. "I guess that is something she is going to see a lot of."

"Yes, what are we going to do about Nicole and Jordan?" Ann asked.

"Like we have been. Explain that Mike now works for us and that it is old-fashioned strict way of showing respect It will work out, don't worry about it, honey. After all, they are now young adults."

Ann smiled lovingly at her husband and got up from her chair and positioned herself on Jeff's lap causing Jeff's leg to jump around, his foot bumping into my face as if I wasn't even there. "Mmm, all of this is making me hot, lover, " she cooed. 

I had never even remotely seen this type of affection between them and it was, again, quite a contrast.

"You're not looking at us, are you, scumbag?" Ann asked, between long kisses.

"No, Mistress." I stared at the floor.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this in front of him," Ann questioned. "He doesn't deserve such a treat."

"Have to disagree with you on that one, sweets. He's just a piece of shit property, this is a little way to remind him of what he is missing. What it's like for a real man and his woman to share intimacy. I'm pretty sure once we're done with him, he'll never entertain the thought of a genuine relationship again."

"True." Ann laughed. "Not that he was much in bed before. Isn't that right, shithead? Joann told me all about what a limp dick worthless lover you were."

I didn't say anything, I was too embarrassed at the truth of the statement.

"She asked you a question, do I have to get my belt off right now?" 

I believe Jeff was serious and wasn't making a vague threat.

"No, Sir. Mistress is correct. I was...am a lousy lover."

Jeff chuckled. "I believe you, Mikey, I believe you. I've never worried about you being around my wife. All that time you spent with her when the kids played together, I never once thought, gee...is Mike screwing with Ann. Not only because I knew that she didn't like you, but that we both had a good idea that you were a wimp loser. Repeat after me...I am a wimp loser."

Quietly and with great dejection, I said, "I am a wimp loser." I looked up at Ann on Jeff's lap. They made a great looking couple. The portrait of young suburbanite success. They were embraced once again and thankfully they didn't notice my glance. 

"MMm, that was so nice," Ann said, breaking apart their kiss. "I'd better go out front." She smoothed her skirt and stood up while I remained with head bowed, keeping my eye on the floor. "What are you going to do now?"

"I have some work to do, shouldn't keep me up too late tonight. But first, I was thinking that maybe I should punish that piece of crap down there." Jeff kicked me lightly in the ribs. "So he gets an idea of what he can expect in the future."

"What about the girls? They'll be sure to hear it."

"Possibly. We don't have to tell them anything specific, something like dad is correcting the servant's behavior. Eventually, I'm sure they'll be witnessing the discipline."

"Or wanting to mete it out themselves...especially that Nicole." Ann giggled. "She can be very tough."

There was knocking at the door, this time it was Jordan yelling through the closed door. "I can't find my guitar."

"Just a sec." Ann said moving towards the door, "I wanted to watch you, babe. Give me a couple of minutes with the kids, then I'll be back."

Ann left the room, Jordan peeking in and seeing me kneeling on the floor. I heard him ask Ann what was going on, Ann simply saying that they were talking to Mike. Jeff didn't immediately say anything, letting me squirm in the moment as I stared at the floor, feeling his commanding presence over me. Finally he said, "If you try to run away from us, we'll be sure to ruin your life though it's pretty much headed that way anyway."

"Yes, Sir, I understand." 

"But you probably like this anyway." Before I could say anything more, Ann returned.

"Okay, they seem to know that something is going on, so we'd better do this quick. I'll guard the door." Ann was excited as if she was kid on Christmas morning.

"Stand up, shithead."

I was scared, so nervous I was nearly shaking. "Please, Sir, do we have to do this?"

Ann laughed at my pitiful plea. "I think the wimp is scared."

"Stand up and drop your pants." Jeff's voice was deep and serious and growing agitated.

I stood up and fumbled around with my belt and then dropped my jeans. Despite my nerves and fear, I was also excited, my cock straining against my boxer shorts.

Jeff had a voice of disgust and impatience. "Underwear too, idiot."

"Geez, look how little he is even with all his excitement," Ann said as I pulled down my underwear, both it and my jeans piling at my ankles. I was looking down at the ground, but I could hear Jeff undo his belt buckle.

"Bend over the chair."

I shuffled over to the office chair that was in front of the desk and bent over the arms. It was very uncomfortable, the arms hard and digging into my ribs though I'm sure that Jeff and Ann could care less.

"Comfortable, Mike?" Jeff asked his voice filled with obvious happiness at my predicament.

"Not really, Sir."

"Good. I don't want you to be and I want this punishment to be etched clearly on your mind. You will not..." Jeff wasted no time and delivered the first blow from the belt, it was firm landing with a loud splat. I gasped from the pain. "...ever forget your place." Jeff punctuating the four words with four quick lashes of the belt. There was no warm up and nothing erotic about being beaten by the man.

"Please, Sir, I won't forget my place." I had squirmed and thrashed about as he hit me.

"Keep your voice down," Jeff commanded giving me another brutal slash with the belt, this one causing me to involuntarily cry out. "Shut up you stupid pig," he said quietly but angrily. "You're not going to control yourself are you? You are going to have to learn to take a beating without making a sound. For now..." Jeff reached down and pulled off one of socks, "you get this."

Ann laughed and said, "Oh god, that is beautiful," as Jeff stuffed the malodorous, damp sock into my mouth causing me to gag slightly as he pushed it in deep. 

"You like that, darling?"

"Yes, it's fantastic, sweets." Ann was backed up against the door, and I believe I detected a change in her voice and breathing as if she was excited.

"Get ready for more, pig." 

I bent over and steeled myself. Jeff laid the leather on thick and harsh. One lash after the other in quick succession, my mind flashing white with pain as I moaned into the sock gag, spittle running down my face, tears forming in my eyes. I was nearly hyperventilating from the agony and was praying that this would soon end. I couldn't believe how sadistic the mild-manner Jeff was as he continued my beating. He finally stopped, I'm not sure how much time had passed, but it seemed like an eternity. I could hear him breathing hard, my ass was throbbing and felt like it was swollen to twice its normal size. The room was very quiet like everyone was exhausted from one long orgasm. I didn't dare move until I was told to.

Finally, Jeff said, "That was quite a workout. Next time, maybe I'll use one of Nicole's riding crops that she loves to use on her horses."

Ann seemed awed by the situation. "Look at his ass."

Jeff laughed. "Goddamn, I did fuck him up, didn't I?" Jeff was moving around and picking up the camera from the desk. He snapped a few pictures of my battered bottom. "You'll look at these everyday as a reminder of the power your Master has," he said. 

"Yes, Sir," I mumbled, the sock still in my mouth.

"I'd better check out front." Before she did, Ann walked over and traced a finger across my bottom. "Look at all those welts and bruises. I wouldn't want to make you mad, honey," she said tenderly to Jeff.

"Yeah, can you imagine what I could do if I was angry?" 

Ann snuggled up and gave Jeff a long hug and kiss. "Mmm, yeah babe, I don't know if I could imagine, but I wouldn't want to be there." Ann gave me a hard slap with her bare hand on my tender and sensitive ass, which caused me to jump excessively. She laughed and said, "Look at that, a little slap from me and he almost goes through the wall. I'll see you soon?"

"Yes, I'll finish up with him and then will be out." 

Ann left the room once again and I remained still. Jeff ran the leather of his belt across my damaged ass. "That was enjoyable and a warning to you that we're not kidding around. Understand?"

I mumbled another yes.

Laughing, Jeff pulled the sock from my mouth. "Yuck, you got my sock all wet and there is drool on the chair. I should beat your ass for that."

Broken, fearing it meant more whipping, I fell to my knees and started frantically kissing his feet, one bare, the other still with a sock. "Please, Sir, please, Master, no more...I can't take it."

Jeff snickered as a kissed his feet. "All right, if it means that much to you. I've got better things to do right now than beat your ass."

"Thank you, thank you, Sir."

"But I like this groveling, Mike. Very appropriate."

If possible, I felt even more embarrassed in the manner I had totally debased myself. This was someone who not long ago I had considered an equal, and now I was groveling and slobbering his feet with kisses, completely defeated.

"You know you look ridiculous. Pants and underwear at your ankles, crawling around on the floor. Take off my sock."

I removed his sock.

"Kiss my foot." As I kissed his foot, he continued, "Whenever you remove our shoes, socks, stockings, you will kiss our feet to show your reverence and humbleness. And you will be doing that often. In fact, when you are here, you know our rule about no shoes in the house, whenever we enter or leave the house, you will remove or put on our shoes. You will have a myriad of duties that we will get into later. For now, pull up your pants. Wipe the drool off the chair and come out front."

Jeff left the room while I quickly cleaned up. I wondered how much the twins heard, they must have heard the slapping of the leather on my skin; what would they think was going on? I took a deep breath and walked out front. Jeff and Ann, with his arm around Ann, were sitting on the couch between their children. They all took glances at me then returned to watching television. I was exhausted and wanted to go home. I stood at the kitchen counter that bordered the casual room and waited for Jeff or Ann to say something, the room was eerily quiet, the daughters not their usual perky, loud selves. I'm sure that they knew.

Finally, I had to say something. "Is there anything else I need to do today?"

"I want a Popsicle," Nicole said.

"Yes, Miss Nicole." I hurried to the refrigerator. "What flavor, Miss Nicole?"

"I don't know...strawberry."

I retrieved the Popsicle and went into the room and handed it to her. It meant walking in front of the rest of the family as Nicole was on the far side of the sectional. As I handed it to her, Jeff showed his displeasure and error of my ways.

"You just got in our way. Do you expect us to move our heads so you can do your work?"

"No, Sir." I was getting fearful again that he would punish me.

"You didn't open it, stupid," Nicole said. No one said a work about her calling me stupid.

"Oh, sorry, Miss Nicole."

I opened the package then knew I had to retreat to the other side of the room. Jeff seemed to sense my dilemma. "Crawl. Keep yourself low enough so you don't block our view."

I fell to my belly to keep low enough, then squirmed across the floor to the laughter of the family, particularly the girls.

"That's so funny," Jordan said.

Nicole added, "This is way too cool. Can I make him do something, dad? Please..."

"Like what, honey?"

"I don't know...make him bark or something."

"All right, you can do that."

"Bark, Mike, bark."

"Woof...woof."

This completely cracked up the girls, "That's a good doggie," Nicole said. I glanced at Mike and Ann sharing a look that they knew Nicole was going to run with this. She took the wrapper off the Popsicle and threw it onto the floor.

Ann started to say something about Nicole throwing her trash on the floor when Nicole said, "Fetch, doggie." 

I was still on my hands and knees and I turned and looked at Ann and Jeff with pleading and questioning eyes...did I have to do this? I also glanced at the 18-year-old Nicole, who was looking at me with a challenge to disobey her, her brown eyes as intense as her mother's. Nicole was wearing shorts and a blouse, her bare feet rested right next to the wrapper on the floor.

Jeff calmly said with a smirk. "Do what your told, Mike."

I turned around crawled to pick up the wrapper. As I reached for it, Nicole plopped her foot on top of it. "Pick it up with your mouth, doggie, doggies don't have hands."

Ann laughed. "Nicole, you are so mean."

Nicole proudly said, "Yep and Mike is going to learn just how mean."

"Don't get carried away with yourself," Jeff warned.

"I won't, dad."

Nicole's foot was directly on top of the wrapper and I couldn't get to it. "What's the matter, doggie, can't you reach it."

"No, Miss Nicole."

"Ask me nicely and maybe I'll move my foot."

"Miss Nicole, could you please move your foot." I glanced up at Ann and Jeff to see their reaction to all of this. They appeared rapped on the television.

"I saw you look at me, Mike. That's another ten dollars," Ann said.

"Yes, ma'am. Please, Miss Nicole..."I begged.

She moved her foot enough to expose half the wrapper. "With your mouth, doggie."

When I leaned over to pick up the wrapper with my teeth Nicole took her foot and planted on my face covering my nose and mouth. "Do you like my feet, doggie? Do they smell good?"

Nicole's feet had a strong odor, I knew she often wore sneakers without socks, and I wasn't sure what to say. "You have very nice feet, Miss Nicole."

"Yeah right, doggie," she said, shoving my face with her foot, before pulling it back. "Pick it up!" she ordered.

I picked up the wrapper. 

"Crawl out of here and put it into the trash with your mouth. No hands." Giggles from the others accompanied my humiliation as I crawled through the living room.

Her voice cheerful, Ann asked, "Nicole, where did you learn to be so mean?"

"It comes naturally, mom...Don't use your hands to open the cabinet door, doggie."

I was about to reach for the door when Nicole said that, instead, I pushed the door open with my nose and then dropped the Popsicle wrapper into the trash with my mouth, shutting the door with my nose. I crawled back to the edge of the carpet and the hard wood floors. Jeff said, "Get out here, Mike, you're going to have a long day tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," I said, standing. No one even looked at me. "Goodbye." Again, ignored, like I wasn't even there. This was humiliating, I wasn't even worthy of human acknowledgement. I left the house, went home, ate a quick dinner and collapsed into bed. I was sure Jeff was right about one thing, tomorrow was going to be a hard day.



Help Wanted



This is a copyrighted original work of fiction. All rights reserved.

All characters featured herein are at least eighteen years of age, even if not expressly stated. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Many thanks to Max for the fine editing work.

*

Caitlyn wasn't anything like I'd expected.

After years of threatening to retire on me, Alfie finally did. To make matters worse, he and his wife moved to Florida. I desperately needed someone to work alongside me in my woodshop.

I run a commercial wood carving business, a specialized niche. For many years like any other small business, I was either swamped or wondering if I should find a new line of work. Over the last few years, however, I've managed to steady the workload and have forced myself to learn how to turn down some projects too. It's a stable two man operation.

I didn't think replacing Alfie was going to be so difficult.

I tried a couple of young guys. One guy, Matt, was great, but after several weeks he decided to start his own contracting business. Another guy was just plain unreliable. His workmanship was good, but his attitude wasn't. When it's just the two of you working alongside of each other, you've got to get along. I had to let him go.

Another guy had a serious drinking problem. Alcohol and a table saw don't mix. Gone, the next day.

Caitlyn was the daughter of a friend of a friend's brother. She was an art school graduate, still living at home, unable to find serious work.

I'd never thought of going the art school route. I needed woodworking skills not artistic skills. I needed someone who could cut wood, plane it, use a router, set-up a jig and do lots and lots of painting. The artistic element was usually conceived by someone else. My shop requires technical skills mainly. Artistic skills are a secondary consideration.

I asked my friend to have her email me.

She was twenty eight currently working part time in a clothing store. Her hobbies included art, sculpture, and music recording. She didn't list any skills. Her experience was working in retail.

She included several photos of her sculpture. Three were in metal, four in wood and one was in what appeared to be wood, metal, glass and plastic. The stuff was okay, not my cup of tea but what I saw was a fine eye to detail and clearly the ability to work with her hands.

'Come on by for a visit,' I emailed back.

She was five four, stout, bum too big. Nose ring, short black hair, black raccoon-like eye make-up surrounding green eyes, dark lipstick, little leather neck collar with a Christian cross pendent, funny silver jewelry and when she reached out to shake my hand I could see there were multi-colored tattoos running up her wrist.

Great a Goth chick. And I thought that stuff was out of fashion. And at twenty eight?

"Come on in," I said. She stepped into the shop from the January snow outside. She wore a short black leather jacket, black jeans, I think they're called Doc Marten's boots and had a burlap handbag or backpack or something. I watched as she put it down on a pile of lumber.

"It's hemp," she said.

Oh brother.

"So this is it," I said waving my hand through the air, "this is the shop."

She looked around for a moment and then said, "What exactly do you do?"

"Commercial wood carving, signs, railings, balusters, odd bits, some furniture restoration, always in wood."

She picked up one of the pieces I was currently working on. It was a 20" x 30" x 1-1/2" thick piece of laminated maple with the outline of the 9th hole on one side and the Whistling Swans logo on the other. It still needed sanding, painting and finishing.

"This is what you do?" she asked with an incredulous look in her face.

"Yeah."

"You can make money doing this?"

"Yeah. If you do it right."

"So how much do you get for one of these?"

"I don't know, but it's not finished. It still has to be sanded, stabilized, painted and polyurethaned and then hung from a bracket which still has to be made and installed."

"But how much do you get for one of these?"

"I don't know exactly, it's part of a job that I bid on." I took the piece from her and continued, "This sign here, once it's painted and polyed twice is probably a day's work. I set up a jig for the logo on the back, the hole itself has to be scaled, carved, lettering carved, sanded, painted. You do them all at the same time, but there's twenty seven frikkin' holes. That alone is more than a month's work. Plus I've got the front entrance sign. I've got the tee-off markers, each one is carved. There's two hundred of those. The 'carts' signs, they've ordered fifty, but I'm making seventy five, I know they're going to want more. There's twenty nine miscellaneous signs, 'parking', 'washrooms', 'to 10th tee' that sort of stuff and twenty two banisters that need to be carved front and back for the patio, but that's easy 'cause it's a jig."

"Wow and you do all that by yourself?" She said as she continued to look around the shop.

"No I can't. That's my point. I need help."

"How much is the whole job worth?"

Odd line of inquiry, but fair enough, I figured she was trying to establish if I was legit.

"The original contract was for a hundred and nineteen grand. But I've negotiated an extra for fifty two grand. Originally I had a leisurely six months to do the work."

"An extra?"

"A month and a half into it, they changed the fucking logo. I always wondered why 'Whistling Swans' would only have one swan. They made that decision a month before, but no one bothered to tell me. I had to throw away a month and a half's work."

She picked up the 9th hole piece again and studied the logo on the reverse. It was two swans facing each other with their necks slightly entwined. Their wings open at their backs, all boarded by a rope pattern. "I guess it's supposed to be a W," I said.

She shook her head and put the piece down. "So it was their mistake, what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is the opening date for the golf course doesn't change."

"I don't know how to work half this stuff," she said looking around the shop. "In fact I don't know how to work any of this stuff."

"All I need is someone with a good work ethic and a good pair of hands. Give me your hands," I said holding out my palms. She put her hands into mine. "Squeeze hard," I said. She did. She had strong hands for a small woman. I could see she bit her fingernails. They were chipped and painted black. Her hands were warm. She smiled as I examined her hands. "I'll teach you everything else."

"How much would I get paid?"

"Twenty bucks an hour to start, then I can assess your productivity and pay you accordingly." I said. "Thirty bucks beyond forty hours per week. I have to do all the deductions, it's a real business."

She looked at me a bit shocked. "Are you offering me the job?"

"Yeah, when can you start?"

"I don't know. I'd have to quit my part time job. When do you want me to start?"

"How about right now?"

"Okay," she said, "I've got the rest of the day free. Let's go."

I set her up with a shop robe; I had to use a pair of scissors to cut the sleeves shorter. I handed her all the safety stuff. "Get yourself some steel toed boots," I said, and then added, "I'm sorry you'll have to take those rings off your fingers, it's a safety thing."

She seemed intelligent and eager to learn.

Later we stopped for lunch. She hadn't brought any. From my stash of canned chili and soups in the little corner kitchenette I managed to scrounge up lunch for the both of us. Soup and bag o'salad cole slaw with Three Cheese Ranch dressing. She didn't want any toast.

"Doug, tell me," she asked as we ate, "do you live next door?"

"Yeah."

"What does your wife do?"

"I'm not married."

"So you live in that big house by yourself?"

"It's not that big. It's only three bedrooms."

"How big is the property?"

"Five and a half acres, why?"

"It just seems a lot of house for one person."

"I bought the house because of this shop. I used to pay rent on an apartment and rent for some shop space. It was a no-brainer to buy this place. Now my commute is sixty seconds."

Caitlyn just bobbed her head up and down, staring off into space while holding her spoon.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"Thirty six, why?"

"Just wondering."

Fair enough.

That afternoon I showed Caitlyn how the jig set up worked. A frame was bolted down to the piece of wood. Then a color coded rigid PVC sheet is slid into the frame at a predetermined height. The cut PVC serves as a template for a rotary carving tool, either a plunge router or a fixed Dremel-style power carver. Depending on the carving, with three or more templates, ninety or ninety-five percent or so of the wood is removed for the bas-relief carving. A little bit of hand gouging and chiseling is all that's left to do.

She understood right away. The only question that she asked was, "Why don't you use all one color template to all the pieces, then switch to the next template and do all the pieces again."

"Ah," I said, "the time is in bolting the frame to the piece. Plus, that has to be absolutely spot on. The frame location can't change."

It took her a few days to disassociate herself from her part-time job, but soon enough she became full time. She would be at the shop promptly at eight a.m. every morning even though her commute was forty five minutes. She wouldn't leave until the particular little production run was done that afternoon. Sometimes we would work until after seven. When I would teach her how to do something, I only had to show her once. Her handwork, especially in painting was fantastic. She worked quickly and diligently. She was always cheerful and professional.

I couldn't be happier.

I made sure to encourage her and let her know that she was doing a great job. Sometimes I'd offer a little advice on her technique, usually by suggesting a different tool for a given application. I made sure to end every day by saying, 'Thank you, drive carefully and I'll see you in the morning.'

The reality of the workshop is that there's not much time for conversation. You have to wear hearing protection for a good part of the day. Every saw, every router, pretty well everything is connected to a dust collection system. I'm a stickler for safety. You have to be. The only time we would actually talk to each other was when we would sit down to have something to eat or drink or when we would crowd into my little office where there's a drafting table, a laptop and old drawings and files galore. Those conversations were all centered on work.

After several weeks the Goth look was slowly toned down and I guess my own prejudices too. I came to the realization that she was actually pretty cute. Sexy too. Of course I couldn't say anything like that to her. In the mornings when I'd wake up my first thought would be of Caitlyn. My whole morning routine was fueled by the anticipation of her arrival. In the evenings when I sat eating alone my mind would continue to drift back to her.

The paint room is at one end of the shop. It has a large window to the main shop and because the dust collector isn't hooked in, there's a radio. Caitlyn would dance to herself while painting. She would dance. Freeze. Her steady hand would move to paint whatever was she was doing. Then she would resume dancing again. She was totally oblivious to her dancing movements, yet fully concentrated on the painting. She was a joy to watch.

*

One evening, freezing rain started coming down just as we were finishing up. While we were doing the usual fifteen minutes of shop clean-up before locking up she seemed very apprehensive about the weather. I didn't blame her, the road would probably be treacherous. I turned to her and asked, "Why don't you just sleep here tonight? I have a spare bedroom."

I guess I caught her by surprise, she paused for a moment, looked outside again and said, "Okay thanks." She then turned to me, pointed her finger to my face and said, "Here's something you've got to understand though, when we walk out this door, you're not my boss anymore."

That one caught me by surprise. "Okay," I said, "fair enough."

"And no shop talk," she added.

"Fine."

Caitlyn took a side track through the freezing rain to pick up a zippered bag from her little black Yaris before heading to the house. "Welcome to my humble abode," I said as she stepped inside.

"Thanks."

She saw me looking at the bag she was carrying. Did she pack an overnight bag anticipating that she would stay the night? She must have read my thoughts.

"It's an overnight bag. I always pack one in the car. Don't you?"

I don't, but it's not a bad idea. I whisked her into the living room after she removed her work boots and coat. She looked around the place, but made no comment.

"Caitlyn listen. I normally have a shower as soon as I get home. I've got to get all of this sawdust off me. I only have the one shower unit. If you want a shower too, go ahead, it's upstairs. There are clean towels in the cupboard. You'll find them. I can get started on something for dinner."

She smiled at me and said, "Show me the kitchen, let's see what you've got. I'll get started on dinner. You take your shower first."

"What? You don't trust my cooking?"

"Frankly, no," was her reply.

Not a bad judgment call. I showed her the kitchen and the pantry and where all the pots and pans were. She found the pork tenderloin I'd thawed out for dinner. She poked around a little then said, "Go have your shower."

I came back downstairs after my shower, dressed, as usual in sweatpants and a tee-shirt. "What can I do?" I asked. I didn't know what she was cooking. "Make sure this doesn't burn," she said pointing to a large pot with pork cubes and all kinds of cut up vegetables sizzling away. "In about five minutes add half of this," she handed me a tetra-pack of vegetable stock, "give it a good stir, turn the heat down and put the lid on. In the meantime peel some potatoes."

Yes ma'am. She was not at all like in the shop. I did as I was told.

She came back down a few minutes later wearing grey sweatpants and a red t-shirt. I'd never seen her tattoo before. Her right arm was completely covered in a multi-colored something from her wrist right up past her short sleeve. In the shop we always wore a shop coat, plus whatever she wore underneath had always been long sleeve. It's kind of cool in the shop that time of year. In addition, there was something not right about the nipples on her small boobs.

"What are you staring at?" she asked accusingly.

"I...ah..I've never seen your tattoo before," I managed to stammer out.

"You weren't looking at my tats, you were staring at my tits."

I knew I was blushing. "I...I'm sorry," I croaked out, "it's just..."

She put her hands on her hips and glared at me with her mouth open.

"There's something funny about your nipples," I managed to get out and wished that I hadn't finished my sentence.

She pulled her top off. I froze in shock. My employee was half naked standing in front of me.

"They're called nipple rings."

Sure enough, she had nipple rings. Not only that but the tattoo went right up her arm onto her shoulder and curled under her right boob. As she slowly turned her body, I could see that the tattoo also covered her right shoulder blade. And her belly button was pierced.

"Do you like it?"

I didn't know what to say. I hate tattoos and piercings on women. On men too. I just hate them period. 

"You don't like it, do ya?"

"No, sorry." I gulped.

"Well that's too bad, it's my body and I like it." She put her shirt back on.

I smiled at her and threw my palms in the air. Whatever cranks you lady.

She came into the kitchen and stirred the pot. She found some herbs that I'd forgotten I actually had and added them to the pot. Herbes de Provence. The whole thing smelled pretty good. I was washing the potatoes in the sink.

The power went out.

"Fuck" "Shit." We said together in the pitch black.

Not surprising in an ice storm. "I'll bet a line is down," I said. It had just gone dark outside.

"Everything is out," I said to her. "We can flush the toilet once, but it won't fill up again. There's a second toilet on this floor. Turn the stove off." She did. "We've got no heat," I added.

"Do you have a generator?"

"No. A fireplace but no firewood."

"No firewood. What's the point of a fireplace if you don't have firewood?"

"Caitlyn, we've got a shop full of wood."

"Oh yeah," she suddenly realized.

So that's what we did. We put our coats and boots on, grabbed a couple of flashlights and went out to the shop. We filled two small tarps with scrap cuts from the large pile and hauled them back to the house. We were like two Santa Clauses with giant bags full of toys on our backs sliding on the ice.

I lit the fire and we settled in with blankets on the couch across from the fire. Dinner was a big bag of potato chips, some cheese and two bottles of Chianti Classico.

The only light was from the fire which was blazing nicely.

"Doug, how come you never married? I mean you're a really nice guy. And good looking too. Steady income, right? I'm sure that women are tripping over themselves to get to you."

"Well, you'd be wrong. The reality is that I'm married to my job."

"Come on."

"I just don't get to go out. I mean I've been on plenty of dates and such, but I just don't have the opportunity to meet single women."

"Go to a bar," she said.

"I tried that bar scene once. I just don't do bars."

"Why not?"

"Because I live in the country. I've got to drive. If I get caught drinking and driving I'm fucked. Totally, totally fucked. Without wheels I can't work, I can't get groceries, I can't get wood supplies."

"Hmm," she seemed to understand.

"And how does that work in a singles bar, 'another glass of wine for this young lady and I'll have a Shirley Temple please'?"

She giggled, "You have a point."

"I was engaged once." I offered.

"What happened, did she quit or did you?"

"She did. Sally. Really cute and very nice. I fell for her right away. I met her the same week that I put an offer on this place. The sale didn't go through for three months and at that point I still had six and a half months on my apartment lease. The bottom line was that she liked the Doug Jenner that lived in the city, but not the one that lived and worked in the country. Being the country squire's wife was not something that appealed to her."

"That's a bit shallow isn't it?"

"That's the same conclusion I came to. She wanted me to sell this place. I'd just bought it. She wasn't even willing to give it a try."

"That's awful."

"Yeah it was. It was literally 'it's either me or the country shop and house. Take your pick.'"

We sat in silence for a while.

"What about you," I asked, "why aren't you married?"

"You're kidding?"

"No. Why would you say that?"

"Look at me. Who the fuck wants to go out with me?" she said, then continued, "I'll tell you who. Losers, nerds and assholes."

"Come on."

"It's the body I was born with."

"What does the body have to do with it?"

She didn't answer at first, then said, "Everything. When I was younger, I'd go to the school dance. Do you think I was ever asked to dance?"

"Of course you were," I answered.

"Yeah," she laughed, "by losers, nerds and assholes."

"But you're none of those things. You're pleasant, you're a good worker." She turned her head and glared at me. "You're intelligent and you're pretty. She glared again. "Except for the face metal and the tats, but that's just me."

"I thought we weren't going to talk shop here," she said.

"We're not."

"I'm hardly pretty. I have a big ass, I don't have a waist and my friend Carly had bigger tits when she was twelve than I do now."




Help Wanted



"You're getting all fixated on the body again."

"I'm fine with my body."

"Then why do you say things like that?"

"Like what?"

"That you're not pretty and you have a big ass and small tits."

"Because it's true!"

"You have a lovely smile and beautiful green eyes."

"And a big ass!" She brought her feet up onto the couch, curled her arms around her knees and stared into the fire, still wrapped in her blanket.

I wasn't going to win this.

She put her feet back onto the floor, reached for her wineglass, gulped down the last third of the glass, almost slammed it back on the coffee table in front, then curled her knees back up.

What low self-esteem she had of herself. I wondered if that was why she felt compelled to get herself tattooed and pierced. Did she need that 'Goth Look' to make herself different? Does looking different make you feel different? Is she that insecure?

"You're a lovely person." I said.

"Shut up."

Did I really say something that wrong? That she's pretty?

"Can I pour you some more wine?"

"Yes," she answered in a huff. I did.

"Caitlyn, I know we're not supposed to talk about this, but think of it this way, I'm telling the girl sitting next to me about my new employee." She said nothing, just stared into the fire.

"I have this new employee. She had virtually no woodworking skills when she came to my shop a few weeks ago. When she showed up, I was completely shocked to find this Goth chick standing there. Nevertheless, I was in such a bind, I hired her anyway. I really wasn't expecting too much from her."

She pulled her knees down, took a sip of wine while taking a quick sideways glance at me.

"I'm over the moon with this girl. She's an excellent employee. A great worker. Great with her hands. Very talented. She learns fast, she works quickly, and I can tell she puts a lot of pride into her work. Her workmanship is excellent. She's pleasant, intelligent, witty and funny too. I hope she stays with me for a long, long time."

She stared at me for a few moments without an expression on her face. "I have to say Doug, that I really enjoy working in the shop. For the first time in my life, someone seems to appreciate what I do. In college I'd always have criticisms 'you could have highlighted that curve a bit more', "what are you trying to say with that piece?', 'I know you can do better than a B'. In the clothing store the manageress would say 'you could have made that sale'. All my life I've never been quite good enough. And I was never good enough for my parents, either. Do you think they like my tats and metal?"

"Did you do that just to piss them off?"

"No, but it was a nice side benefit."

I said nothing.

"What I'm saying I guess," she continued, "is thank you for not being a fucking asshole. You make me feel good about myself."

"No Caitlyn, it's not about me. Everything I said is true. It's all your doing. It's your attitude, it's your skills and it's your work ethic. Plus I think you're pretty."

She smiled. "But I still have a fat ass."

"Doesn't matter it's still sexy." I wished I hadn't said that but it came out anyway.

"Oh, you think I'm sexy too." It wasn't a question.

Oh boy. Employee sexual harassment. Fuck.

"Caitlyn, I..."

"Well I think you're sexy too," she cut me off.

"I'm sorry I said that."

"Why?"

"I don't want to lose my employee because of sexual harassment."

"I'm not your employee here."

"I'm sure the courts would understand that."

"Doug, don't be a jerk. You're not sexually harassing me. 'Give me a blow job and you get to keep your job,' that would be sexual harassment."

"Ah, just a little."

"Well you're not doing that are you?"

"No. I'm not. I would never do that. And I will never do that." I said.

"It can work the other way around too."

"How so?" I asked.

"If I said, 'I'm not coming into work tomorrow unless you eat my pussy right now.'"

She was certainly not shy.

"But you're not doing that are you." I said rather than asked.

"No, I'm not."

"Good." I thought that was the end of it. We both reached for our wine glasses and took a sip.

"So will you do it?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Eat my pussy."

I nearly dropped my wine glass.

"Not if it's sexual harassment I won't." I was relieved to have found a quick out.

She turned to me with a grin on her face.

"It won't be."

Did I just agree to eat her pussy?

"Caitlyn, how will you feel in the morning, in the shop?" I was hoping to backtrack.

She turned on the couch and wrapped her left hand around the back of my neck, leaned towards me and said, "Sexually satisfied I hope." She was grinning at me.

I felt my cock twitch.

"Caitlyn, if we do this we can't extend it into the shop."

"You're damn right we can't. There you're my boss. Here you're the country squire with the roaring fire and fancy dinner." She waved her hand over the spent chip bag.

I couldn't keep the grin off my face. Neither could she. She took my wine glass from me and set both on the coffee table.

Then she pulled her red t-shirt off again.

Her tits certainly weren't big, only a handful really. Her areola were small too, almost non-existent. But her nipples were huge. The rings were gold, probably three quarters of an inch diameter. The nipples almost filled them. The rings shimmered in the firelight.

"Do you like the rings?" she asked. Clearly she caught me staring. She flipped them with her index fingers. The nipple skin reacted to the movement of the rings.

"Yeah, they're kind of kinky actually."

She pulled on her nipple rings. The nipples followed and some of her breast flesh too. I wondered if that hurt. "I hate my tits, but I love my nipples." She twisted the rings a bit.

"I love your nipples too."

"Then give them a little suck." She pulled my head towards her chest.

I gave one a suck, then the other. The rings felt funny in my mouth. There was certainly a contrast between hard rings and soft nipples. She made a kind of purring sound while my tongue and lips played with her nipples.

"Do you like that?" I asked looking up to her green eyes sparkling in the firelight.

"What do you think?" She pushed my head back down to her tits.

As I pulled my mouth away from her boobs, my t-shirt was pulled off me, over my head. Her hands were all over my chest, shoulders and arms. She pushed the side of her face against my chest, then pushed me back onto the couch and climbed on top of me. She looked down at me from above, straddling my waist. The light from the fire only illuminated half of her face. The tattoo on her right side danced in the firelight.

What an exotic creature she was. My cock certainly thought that too. It was rock hard.

She arched herself down to kiss me. Her lips were warm, soft. Her tongue darted out, pushing my teeth apart. Her tongue found mine. I pushed back into her mouth. Her breath was warm. I ran my hands down her arms. The tattooed side was warmer from the fire. Her nose ring bounced off my nose as we kissed.

Her hand reached down under my waist band. "Nice," she whispered as she found my stiff cock.

"Doug, before we go any farther I want you to know I don't have any funny diseases and I'm on the pill. How about you?"

"I'm not on the pill," I said.

"Don't be an ass."

"No funny diseases," I said grinning.

"Good." She got off me and pulled my sweatpants off. My cock sprung up. "Very nice," she said as she grabbed a hold of it. She lowered her mouth to my cock.

My brain swirled in sync with her tongue on my cock. Lightly she stroked my shaft as she licked the underside, then she pushed my cock way down her throat and held it momentarily before pulling back up in a pool of saliva.

Where did she learn how to do that?

Caitlyn let go and my cock flopped onto my belly. She stood up and pulled her sweat pants off. I could see her pussy hairs in the firelight. There wasn't a lot and they weren't black. My hand reached out to her puss as she raised her left leg and put her foot on the couch next to my hip.

Metal! "Whaa?"

"Yeah," she said as her hands slid down to her crotch, I could barely make out in the light that she was pulling two rings, one on each inner labia, "I've got rings in my lips."

My finger slipped right into her. It was warm, tight and very wet. She let go of the rings, I could feel them against my knuckle. I pulled my finger out and played with the curls of her soft pussy hairs, her soft pussy lips and the contrasting hard rings. I gently twisted everything I could touch with my fingertips. I could see a smile on the side of her face that was illuminated by the firelight as she looked down on me from above.

I slid down the couch to make room for her knees. She straddled me and lowered her pussy to my awaiting mouth, my hands cupped her ass. All at once I smelled her pussy, tasted it and felt the softness of her lips and the distinction made by the two rings. Sensory overload. Bliss. Divine female nectar made my brain swirl.

My lips and tongue went everywhere. I couldn't get enough. After a few content moments I became aware of her fingers against my tongue and lips. With the index and thumb of each hand she pulled on the rings, splaying her puss wide open and exposing her clit.

"Lick gently," she whispered. I did. Right on her clit. "That's it," she cooed. Her hips rocked slightly to meet my tongue. I slipped my index finger into her hole, "Yeah," she whispered as she exhaled. Her rocking motion increased. Each exhale of her breath became throaty. I slipped a second finger into her. I could feel the tightness of her muscles as I fucked her with my fingers. She continued to pull on her rings. The tempo of her husky breathing increased. Her thighs were trembling. I gently sucked her little clit while flicking it with the tip of my tongue.

I splayed my two fingers into a vee as I slowly pulled out, nearly to the end of my fingers. A bridge of moisture glistened between my knuckles in the firelight. I licked it off. Pure Caitlyn heroin. Right then and there, I became an addict. I plunged my fingers back inside her and sucked directly onto her clit. 

She let go of the rings and pulled the back of my head into herself. "Ggaauuughh Fuuuck meeee!" Pussy muscles clamped onto my fingers and bulged to my knuckles, loosened, then clamped again. Her hips jerked. Pubic hair tickled my nostrils as I attempted to take in air. Guttural sounds emanated from above me. Muscles clamped again and again before she released the pressure from the back of my head.

I gasped for air. Looking up I saw half of her face illuminated in the firelight, contorted, looking down on me. Her belly button piercing glistened in the light. Something dripped on my forehead.

I pulled my fingers out. My hand was soaked. I licked my fingers and hand.

She wiggled her way down the couch straddling me. She reached between her legs and picked up my cock. She angled it towards her pussy as she wiggled her bum, as I continued to lick my fingers. I could feel my cock head being enveloped in warmth. And then I was in. All the way.

"Ahhhh," she gasped, "Fuuckk...oh yeah," she said to herself, I think.

Her pussy was tight. Wet too. She rocked her hips gently as she rubbed her lower belly with her fingers.

"Ohhh...so good," she gurgled, "so full." Her head fell back, her mouth was open.

"Fuck me Doug." I could feel her pussy muscles clamping down on my cock.

I rolled my hip upward forcing myself in as far as I could go.

"Oh yeah," her voice was low, breathy.

Her fingers found her nipples, she tugged at her rings. She rocked her hips to match mine.

I could feel wetness and her pussy rings at the base of my cock as we slowly fucked. My breathing became heavier. 

Hers too.

She leaned forward, looking down at me in the half light. She placed her left arm on the back of the couch and her right foot on the ground next to the sofa. Then slowly withdrew my cock almost all the way out and then slammed her pussy back down. The fingers of her right hand found her clit and she rubbed furiously while thumping down on me again and again. I could hear the sticky collisions over the crackling fire.

I fucked her right back, matching her furious tempo. Her lips were withdrawn baring her teeth. Hot breath flushed my face. Green eyes that sparkled in the firelight were locked onto mine.

My fingers found her nipple rings. I held them in position so that her nipples and tits were pulled by the action of her hips crashing into me.

I'm sure my face was contorted. I struggled for air.

"Fuck!" she screamed, "Yeah!"

I could feel her fingernails working madly at her clit.

Her right leg started to shake. Her whole body trembled.

I kept jamming into her with all my strength. My heart was pounding in my chest. I knew I was going to cum soon.

She pounded down onto my cock and ground down. "Grraauuugh!" she gasped through open mouth. I could feel her muscles clamp down on my cock as her body jerked. She clamped again, "Auughh," she groaned through her exhale. Her forehead glistened in the firelight. Her fingers still worked away as her body jerked again.

My teeth were clenched as I tried to hold off cumming. I knew it was a losing battle. My chest was heaving in need of air.

She slumped forward, "Auugh" she heaved a sigh into my left ear. Her hot breath whistled in my ear. I felt another contraction. Then another. Then one last one.

We were motionless save for our breathing. I could feel her rapidly beating heart racing with mine.

"I'm going to cum," I whispered, barely hanging on.

Only her breath in my ear responded.

I did. Spurt after spurt plunged deep inside her pussy. My hips jerked involuntarily as I came. My voice was reduced to a gurgle of air.

"Ohhhhh!" she gasped pushing down harder as I came, but staying motionless.

"Fuck!" together we huffed.

We lay there hot and sweaty searching for air for a few moments. I could feel my cock, slip inside her as it started to shrink.

"I could feel you," she said as she drew a breath, "coming inside me."

I nodded a hot breath at her.

"I could feel your cock swell." She whispered.

"I'm sure I'm still oozing cum into you," I whispered back, still searching for air.

My cock slipped some more from shrinkage. It was wet and hot in her pussy.

She pushed herself up. Her right hand was on her crotch as my dick slipped out from her and flopped on my pelvis. The fingers on her right hand slipped into her mouth then quickly went back to her pussy.

I was shocked at what I had just seen her do. She did it again. Then again. Before I could react two fingers from her pussy were pushed into my mouth.

"Taste," she said.

I did. I was in even more shock at the unexpected intrusion. It was salty. It tasted of sex.

"I love the taste of Doug Jenner," she cooed as she dug her fingers deep inside her. After taking one more thorough lick of her fingers she squatted next to me and slipped my glistening cock into her mouth. She licked it clean and sucked on my peehole to make sure it's all out.

Wow! In my wildest dreams, I'd never imagined a girl licking the cum out of her own pussy. Could it be that Caitlyn really enjoyed the taste of cum that much? And what about that 'taste of Doug Jenner' bit? Was she serious?

"Cuddle me," she said as she lay back on me, which her weight shifted to the back of the couch. She slipped the blanket over us and nuzzled her face into me neck.

"That was nice, thank you Doug," she whispered.

"Thank you Cate." I whispered back as I brushed her back and shoulders under the blanket.

*

We woke up on the couch the next morning, cold and hungry. The freezing rain had stopped but the power was still out. We simply peed, didn't flush, dressed ourselves and jumped into my pick-up truck in search of food and heat.

On the way to Jimmy's Diner we passed a crew of linemen fixing power lines.

By the time we got back, the power was on.

We opened up the shop and went to work as if nothing had happened.

After work that night I thought about Caitlyn as I sat alone eating pork stew and potatoes from the evening before. The food was excellent. We should have been eating together. I wondered if she was pissed off with me. Did I take advantage of my employee? Was I going to lose her?

But what a fuck machine Caitlin was. I had no idea.

*

Several days passed by. Nothing was said about the night she slept over. Not a hint, not a wink, not a smile. It was as if it never happened.

The phone rang in the shop one afternoon. After the call I went and found Caitlyn. She was in the paint room, dancing and painting.

"They want us to do more work for Whistling Swans."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I've not committed yet. I need to talk to you first."

"Why?"

"Because it's a bunch of work with a finite time-line."

"What is it?"

"Corporate wants the stupid logo on the top rail of their benches."

"We're not making benches."

"I know that. It's the bench manufacturer that called me. He's a friend of mine. That's not true. He's a colleague. We've worked together before. He's actually a bit of a prick."

"So what's the job?"

Sixty one benches. Six grand. I'll split it with you. It's the same jig that we have for the tee-off blocks. We just have to carve, sand and paint. We don't even have to poly. They'll deliver the top rails to us and then they'll pick up when they're all done."

"Sounds great!"

"Yeah, but. They want it next week! He said Wednesday, Thursday the latest. Either way, it's going to be an hour a piece. That's thirty hours each."

"So?"

"We still have to maintain production on all the rest of the stuff. You know that's all very tight."

"So?"

"So...do you want to take on the work? It means we're working the weekend. Plus late nights. This is no joke."

"I realize that. You said you'd split it with me?"

"Yeah, three grand each."

"For thirty hours work?"

"If it's an hour a piece."

"That's a hundred bucks an hour."

"No. It's a hundred bucks a piece." I corrected her.

"I'll have to stay here," she said.

"I know."

"You know what will happen?" she said. She smirked and watched me intently.

"Yeah, every night," I said grinning.

"I am so fucking in on this!" she growled, grinning too.

"Great!"

I called him back and said we'll do it.

"How come it's not sixty one hundred for sixty one benches?" she asked.

"I told you he's a prick."

*

The next morning Caitlyn called to say she'd be an hour late. That was a first. When she arrived she had me help her unload her little black Yaris. She'd been shopping. We stuffed all kinds of things into the fridge and cupboards. She brought a suitcase of clothes.

It was as if she were moving in. I guessed she was in a way.

The bench top rails were delivered that day.

"How come we're not making the sixty one benches?" she asked.

"Because we're not set up for it. We can certainly make one, in fact we can make sixty one but not at the same cost that numb-nuts can make them at."

"So why isn't he doing the carving himself?"

"Because he's not set up for it. He can certainly do one, or two or five. But not sixty one. Not at a reasonable cost. He's a wood shaper, we're wood carvers, there's a difference."

"What if we had ten thousand to do? There's got to be an easier way."

"There is. It's called a CNC machine."

"What's that?"

"Computer numerical control, or something like that. It's a machine that's attached to a computer. Fasten down the block hit start."

"Why don't we do that?"

"Well for starters the machines are sixty thousand plus. Then the amount of programming that is required takes you forever. For a straight cut it's not bad, but in 3D bas-relief it's a lot more complex. And in the final analysis, it's not that fast. Perfect copies though, every time."




Help Wanted



"But still."

"It's a different business, and if we have to I'll sub-contract that type of work out to any number of shops that can do it. So if we had say, a thousand tee off blocks to do. Yeah, we'll sub it out. Even if I just make two bucks a block, it's just a phone call away."

"So if we're getting a hundred bucks a piece for the bench carvings, how much is he getting for them?"

"I don't care," I said, "we're good with the hundred bucks right?"

"I guess."

"You can't over think this."

"What if someone came in and handed you a piece and said, make me a copy. How would we do it?"

"Ah, it's called a pantograph. We have one right over there," I pointed to the rarely used corner of the shop. "It's pretty slow though, but for one or two copies, it's perfect."

Caitlyn and I agreed that it would be mutually beneficial if she broke off the carving work an hour earlier than me so that she could get started on dinner. We were still going to split the six grand.

I stayed in the shop for an extra hour. We had made good progress in that first day. As usual I did a fifteen minute clean-up before locking up.

As soon as I stepped in through the door I could smell roast chicken. Caitlyn was dressed in black sweatpants and a tie-dyed t-shirt. Immediately I saw the nipple and nipple ring imprints.

My cock stirred.

She was wearing fuzzy pink slippers. Somehow fuzzy pink didn't seem to go with the whole Goth persona.

"Smells great Caitlyn! Do I have time for a shower?"

She stepped up to me, wrapped her arms around my neck, kissed me on the lips and said, "Welcome home Doug." She broke the embrace and ran off giggling. "Yes you have time for a shower," she said from the kitchen and giggled again.

As I showered I thought about how Caitlyn looked when she first came to the interview and how she has slowly been changing to the point where she's wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt and pink slippers. She no longer wore all that black make-up, the funny jewelry was gone, even the black fingernail polish, gone. Her hair was still black and the nose ring still in place. I wondered if she was shedding all that consciously or through benign neglect.

"I don't know about you but I'm beat," I said as I came down the stairs dressed in t-shirt and sweats, "hungry and beat."

"Well dinner's almost ready," I heard from the kitchen, then her head popped around the corner, "I hope you're not too tired," she said smirking.

I know I was grinning.

It's as if there were two Caitlyns. She would never say anything like that in the shop. For some strange reason the image of the Whistling Swans logo came to mind. Two birds entwined at their necks, mirror imaging each other. Was that Caitlyn? Two halves to make the whole?

Was I like that too?

I certainly liked the shop half Caitlyn.

And I was certainly looking forward to dinner, then fucking the hell out of the house half Caitlyn.

At that moment I realized I was onto something really good. I had to be careful not to blow it.

Dinner was roast chicken, roasted potatoes with rosemary, roasted parsnips and Brussels sprouts all smothered in a tangy gravy that had just a hint of tomato to it. She also made a side salad with what she described as homemade Russian dressing.

The chicken was done to perfection. The whole dinner was.

"What do you do, in your idle time?" I asked as we ate. "When it's just Caitlyn Progue?"

"I masturbate incessantly. What do you do?"

The house half Caitlyn never let up.

"I watch TV."

"Porno?"

"No. News mainly."

We regarded each other silently for a moment and then each took a bite.

"You don't want to know about me."

I know I stared at her for a moment. What a daft thing to say. I sliced a piece of chicken.

"Of course I want to know about you. I want to know everything about you."

Her face turned to me in a most peculiar way. She reflected for a long time before picking at her salad.

"You won't believe me if I tell you," she said finally.

"Tell me what?"

"What I do in my spare time."

Now my curiosity was definitely piqued. I scratched my chin. "Let me guess."

She simply smiled at me as she took a mouthful.

"Embroidery?"

"Yeah, that's it." She chuckled with food in her mouth.

"Sumo wrestling? Chinchilla farming? Competitive tiddly-winks? Oh, I know what it is, you have a yeast collection."

She grinned, nodded her head and swallowed.

"Come on, what is it?" I pressed.

"I reinterpret early Christian music to synthesizer, sometimes it involves transcribing from old tablature."

My expression must have said it all.

"Mainly medieval and renaissance."

I know I was staring at her in disbelief.

"de Machaut, Tallis, Hucbald, Ockeghem. One of my favorites is Caterina Assandra. She was a Benedictine nun, Italian, she wrote a number motets and then, of course, there is Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina, but his works are a bit more challenging. He really did define early Catholic music."

"On synthesizer?" I asked trying to stay in the conversation.

"Yes a microKorg coupled to a MIDI keyboard, but I just picked up a used Triton on eBay. It's all hooked into a dedicated laptop that runs Cubasis. Most of the work is done in the laptop."

What?

I must have looked stunned.

"Do you remember the movie A Clockwork Orange?"

"Yes, Stanley Kubrick with what's his name?"

"Malcolm McDowell."

"That's right. He went around beating people up and raping women, all dressed in white. Funny eye make-up thing. Beethoven's Ninth. Yeah, I remember it."

"Do you remember the theme music?"

"Yeah, I remember it. Harrowing music."

"It's Henry Purcell from Funeral for Queen Mary as reinterpreted by Wendy Carlos, back then Walter Carlos. It was done on an early synth. Purcell wrote it in sixteen ninety five."

There was more to this girl than meets the eye.

"Why early Christian?" I asked.

"Hah! Very simple. A couple of reasons I guess. Number one my piano skills aren't that great. Two, it's a period from which very simple yet powerful melodies survive, polyphonic voices are established together with very basic point, counter-point and let's see what else... there aren't any copyright issues and I guess, it's because the music really plays on the heart."

"On the heart?" What was this girl talking about?

"Yes, classic Greek and Roman artists imitated and beautified what they saw in nature, but it really was just an extension of architecture. Their whole society was based on pleasure, power and riches. But humanity was ignored, class-prejudice was universal, the rights of the individual virtually non-existent. Social position and wealth was everything. So when the Christian message came along, a message of humanity, of comfort to the individual soul, it fell like dew upon the spirits of the oppressed, and like fire upon the heads of the oppressors. It gave hope and comfort into the hearts of those who suffered under tyranny, and awakened dormant yearnings for love and a truth that was true and noble."

Who the hell was sitting across from me?

"Art was transformed accordingly. It tried to realize the Divine. Painting, with its representations of the Christ, tried to show inner revelations. The painter began to strive to express the emotions, the soul, in the faces of his subjects, and beauty of form was to become a secondary consideration. The longing for a future existence, for expression of the inner life of man, was to find its most sublime utterance in music, for that alone could express the craving for the unknown. The greatest religious musical works of later years are the outgrowth of the earliest Christian period, and the influence of Christianity is in large part responsible for the emancipation of music from the domination of the other arts." She smiled at me as she held her fork in the air.

I was stunned. "Did they teach you that in art college?"

"No, there I just masturbated incessantly." She grinned at me, still holding her fork in the air.

Two swans.

"Are you going to want dessert? I have some ice cream," I said.

"No, just sex. How about you?"

"I'm good with sex."

We cleaned up after dinner and went straight upstairs. I went to the washroom, she went into my bedroom.

She was naked, spread eagled on the bed. She lifted her head and grinned at me. I pulled my tee-shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. My sweat pants followed. My cock sprung out ready to go. Her grin widened.

"So, Miss Progue," I said smiling, "what would you like to do?" 

"Lick my cunt to make sure it's all wet and stick your cock deep down my throat and I'll make sure it's good and wet. Then fuck...me...silly."

It sounded like a plan. I got into the bed and lowered my hard cock to her mouth as my mouth founds its way to her pussy. The aroma of her pussy pulled me in. My lips, tongue and nose collided with her wetness. Rings bounced off my nose as I inhaled and tasted her delight. I couldn't get enough. Only then did I become aware that my cock was deep down her throat. I had to pull myself off of her pussy to see my balls resting on the side of her nose. There was a gurgling noise and she pushed my hips up. I could hear her gasp for air as I saw my cock emerge completely covered in saliva. It had little bubbles on it and a string of spit reached down to her lower lip.

"Fuck me!" she gasped.

I rotated on the bed. Her legs were wide open. I pulled a pillow out from under the sheet. She lifted her hips off the bed and I slid the pillow in under her bum. I couldn't help but take one more good lick before I climbed on top of her.

She guided my wet cock into her sopping pussy. I slid right in.

"Auuugghh," she gasped. "Fuck!" she panted, "That feels so good." She took a deep breath, "Ohhh."

With my weight on my forearms I pounded my cock into her open pussy with fury. Deep full strokes were met with squeals of delight as she fucked back. I could feel the back of her hands hitting my chest as she tugged at her nipple rings.

The temperature in the room increased rapidly together with the sound of our grunts.

I ground my pubic bone into her clit angling my cock side to side within her pussy, partially withdrew and then slammed back down, over and over and over.

Clearly she loved a good hard fuck.

I kissed her open mouth sending my tongue deep inside. She seemed to really react to the kiss. When I pulled away from the kiss I could see that Caitlyn's face was red. She was breathing hard and her face was sweaty and wet.

I jammed her with my cock while establishing a breathing rhythm. In, out, angle to side, to the other side, up, down, fastball to the cervix, slow internal rotation, grind on the clit another fastball to the cervix. All the while our eyes never left each other.

I could see she was losing her mind.

And her body. Her belly started bouncing. Her thighs shook uncontrollably. She continued to twist and pull at her nipple rings.

I kept slamming my cock into her with full force.

"Aauughh," her head jerked forward as her pussy clamped onto my cock almost forcing it out. I pushed right back in. "Auuugh," she clamped again and gasped for air, this time I held my cock deep inside her. "Auughhhah!" She let go of her nipples and pulled the back of my neck towards her, causing her head and neck to be lifted up. She jerked again gasping for air. My arms strained but I kept on fucking her. I could feel her contractions continue. Her face was red, contorted, wet. Her nose flared and her teeth were gritted together.

I kept fucking her hard. My chest was heaving. My heart was pounding. I kept on going and she kept on contracting.

"Ohh fuuuck!" she yelped, "Auuugh!" her body jerked forward, again almost popping my cock out of her. "Nauugh," she gasped as I pushed it back in through tightened pussy muscles. "Ooohhh!" she jerked again pulling herself up to my face.

I plunged my tongue into her opened mouth as her hips shuddered below me. Our faces almost slid across each other. Our breath hot.

I felt my cock swell.

"Auughh," she clamped down on my cock again and shook.

That did it.

I exploded inside her. My sphincter tightened. My hips spasmed out of control. My cock was enveloped in a warm wetness. Her continued contractions seemed to draw every spurt out of me.

I'm sure my face wasn't a pretty sight. Our mouths were open exhaling hot breath into each other's face, eyes locked on each other's.

I collapsed on to her with my full weight. Our chest heaving against each other as the last contractions rippled through Caitlyn and the final spasms rocked through me.

Our hearts were beating wildly. It seemed a million degrees in the room. We were sweating like pigs.

"Feed me," she said.

"What?"

"Put your cock down my throat right now."

I pulled my glistening and still hard cock out of her. She trapped her vagina with the fingers of her right hand. I rotated around on the bed and lowered my cock into her open mouth.

She sucked to all the way down deep throat and then with her left hand pushed my belly up and gasped for air.

Holy shit!

She did it again, savoring the cum on my shaft and sucking whatever she could from my hole. She pushed me up and away. I flipped off, my legs landing on the floor next to the bed. I was perpendicular to Caitlyn. My head on her knees.

I watched as she cleaned her pussy out as she had done before, licking her fingers clean. She dug deep inside herself to get everything she could. It was clear to me as I watched her, that was no act, she loved it.

"Wanna taste?"

"No it's okay."

She jammed a soaked finger into my mouth anyway and pulled away giggling.

What a fiend.

With Caitlyn, sex does not involve a box of tissues.

I got myself onto the bed and we both lay there trying to cool down. I kissed her cum drenched mouth. "Thank you," I whispered.

"Doug," she whispered back, "thank you, you're the best."

We stared at the ceiling for a while.

"Where did you learn to deep throat like that?" I asked.

"In high school," she replied.

"Lucky guy," I said.

"On a banana," she said.

With incredulity, I'm sure, on my face, I asked her slowly, "You used to suck off bananas in high school?"

"No, we used to tease the boys at the next lunch table. It would drive them nuts."

"I'm sure it did," I chuckled, trying to picture a table full of school girls jamming bananas down their throats.

"Then we'd pick out one of the ruder boys, point to him and say 'this one's for you' as we popped a French fry into our mouth."

"No wonder you didn't get dates."

"Ah, they were a bunch of assholes anyway."

I turned down the covers and fixed the pillows as Caitlin went to the washroom. She returned, naked, brushing her pussy hair with her fingers. She shocked me by nonchalantly asking, "Do you want me to sleep here with you or in the other room?"

I pointed my finger down to the right side of the bed. She smiled and slipped in under the sheets.

"Cuddle me," she whispered. I did. Occasionally I flipped a nipple ring.

"Do you want me to shave my pussy?" she asked.

"I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do." I answered.

She didn't answer.

Her right arm was lying atop the cover.

"What is that a tattoo of?" I asked. Whatever it was it was very ornate and intricate. It was my first good look at it. Every other time I saw it, I guess I naturally just tried to look away.

"There's a unicorn, birds, vines, leaves, flowers."

"Hmm, I can see."

"I drew it myself."

"Did you tattoo yourself?"

"No," she chuckled half asleep, "I know a really good tattoo artist. She followed the drawing exactly." After a few moments she whispered, "Do you like it?"

I didn't answer. I didn't want to lie.

I could see her eyes were shut and she was drifting off to sleep.

I lay there trying to figure Caitlyn out. The outer girl with the Goth look and tattoos and brash attitude was all a cover for an insecure girl on the inside who never seemed to live up to everyone else's expectations. But that inner girl was brilliant. And a sex machine. Kind and sweet and generous too.

It occurred to me that she bought all the groceries. I didn't even offer to pay for half and she never asked for a contribution. That was something I would have to fix in the morning.

She was, however, shedding that outer layer slowly. I wondered if I could transformer her completely like Rex Harrison did to Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady? Pygmalion indeed. Could I turn her into just an ordinary, self-confident woman? All she needed was encouragement and the chance to succeed. That and maybe a couple of quick jolts to the psyche.

*

The next day, Saturday, we busted our asses on the bench rail work. I couldn't believe how fast she was. I did the jig cut out work and she did the final carving, quick sanding and a thick layer of background paint. I could hardly keep up with her!

I asked her to find the grocery bill. I insisted that I was going to pay for it all.

She knocked off an hour early to make dinner. The Caesar salad was marvelous. The Spaghetti Bolognese with whole button mushrooms was superb. It was just what we needed. That a bottle of Sangiovese Italian red wine.

Unfortunately sex didn't happen that night. We made the mistake of turning the TV on while cuddling and playing with her nipple rings, hoping to make it clear through to Saturday Night Live. We didn't make it. She woke me up in the middle of the night with the TV playing to itself. SNL had come and gone. We missed it.

We stumbled off to my bed and crashed. We both slept well that night.

*

By three thirty on Sunday we finished the bench rails. Carved, sanded and painted. We just needed the paint to dry and then to paint the eyes, beaks and feet. An hour's work, max. We'd done it just under forty one hours. We were ahead of schedule on the rest of the work. It was a beautiful day outside. We needed a break.

I was a little worried too, that Caitlyn would simply pack her things up and go home to her parent's place. I really didn't want her to go.

"Caitlyn," I said, "let's do something. Let's go for a walk or something."

She smiled at me, "Can we go up the mountain?"

"Absolutely, let's clean up and let's go." I looked at her safety boots. "Unless you have proper hiking boots, I suggest you wear those."

She looked down to her feet. "I'm okay with these, I guess."

It really was a nice day for March. Caitlyn changed into a pair of cut-off blue jeans. Really cut off. It was a first. I'd never seen her wear anything but black jeans, aside from the sweatpants.

Off we went. We each had light jackets on with a can of Bud stashed in a pocket. Travelers.

Up the trail we went. I pushed Caitlyn's not so big bum up as she was in front of me on some of the steeper parts. I still thought it was a sexy bum. I even groped her crotch a few times, much to her delight.

When we got about a half way up we had to sit down to catch our breath and pop open the cans of beer.

"This is great," she said, "you can see for miles."

"It is lovely, isn't it," I said.

We just sat there enjoying the view, the afternoon air and the beer.

She stood up and walked over to a half dead pine tree. "I can climb this," she said.

"No don't."

Not listening she climbed it anyway. Not a long way up, only a few branches.

"Caitlyn, don't do anything stupid."

"What?" she answered standing on a dead branch about six feet off the ground. She held on to another branch above her. "Do you think I'm stupid or something?"

"No, I just don't want you to hurt yourself."

"I'm fine," she started to bounce up and down on the branch. "Look I'm fine." She still held on to the branch above her head as she stepped further along the branch and bounced even more. "I can see..."




Help Wanted



Snap. "Aaugh!" It broke. She fell.

"Fuuuck!" she screamed.

"No!" I rushed forward. It was too late.

Caitlyn was hanging upside down, firmly attached, by the shoelace loop of her left boot. Her arms hung down, her fingertips were all of maybe an inch off the ground. Her right leg was bent at the knee, hanging by its own weight.

I collapsed in laughter. She reminded me of a Tarot card. The Hanging Man.

She twisted, flexed, bent up, reached, bent up again, twisted again and tried to raise herself again, all to no avail. The sad thing was that had I not been there, Caitlyn would have been in a life threatening situation. Unless she could raise herself up and unhook that boot, she was food for the vultures. I doubted that anyone could hear screams from where we were. Finally she settled herself hanging upside down.

"Doug?" Her face was all red.

"Caitlyn?"

"Can you get me down?"

I paused for a moment.

"I don't think so."

"Douuuug."

"Maybe, but it'll cost 'ya."

She paused.

"I'll suck your cock."

I laughed. "No, you already do that and you love it."

"I'll shave my cunt."

I laughed again, "No, you've already offered to do that." 

What a delicious moment.

"Alright Doug, what do you want me to do?"

I couldn't help but laugh. She did look funny hanging there upside down. Completely helpless.

"Ooohh...I dunno."

"Doug!"

"Let me think!"

"Doug!"

"Give me a second."

"Anal sex. You can fuck me in the ass."

I howled with that one. "No. Your ass is mine anyway."

"What do you want?" She was growing desperate.

"Dinner. We'll go out for dinner."

"Dinner?" Her tone expressed her disbelief.

"Yes...but."

"But...what?"

"I get to buy you a new outfit for dinner."

I thought I could read suspicion on her upside down red face.

"What kind of outfit?" she asked carefully.

"A flowery dress and shoes and a purse to match."

"Noooo!" She started to contort, she tried to reach her boot lace, her arms flailed about wildly. She kicked with her free leg.

"And no face metal."

She twisted, she tried to reach for anything. Fighting, she tried to reach up.

"Pink fingernails. Light pink. Girly pink!"

"Noooo!" Her arms thrashed about. Her entire body turned a different shade of red. It was if she was attacked by a swarm of bees. It took a few minutes but she eventually settled down with her arms hanging down, fingertips almost to the ground. Her chest heaved in and out searching for air. Defeated.

"Fuck you," she gasped.

"So is that a yes?"

There were two deep breaths before she hissed, "Yes."

"Oh and one more thing, yes, I'd like your pussy shaved. Bald."

She growled at me.

I clapped my hands together laughing. Oh what fun I was going to have.

I untied her shoelace. She slipped to the ground.

As she stood up I brushed the twigs and leaves off of her and gave her a kiss. "You okay?" I asked.

She smiled and said, "Yeah."

"Are you staying tonight?" I asked. I could hear the apprehension in my voice.

"Only if you want me to Doug."

"Of course I do. I know you bought something funny for dinner. What is it?"

"Nopalitos."

"What the hell's that?"

"Cactus," she said as she picked up her spent beer can and turned to walk down the mountain. She turned after a few steps and said, "Come on let's go."

Did she say cactus? I picked up my beer can and followed her down.

"Do we get early Christian music with that?" I was ribbing her as I walked behind.

She stopped, considered for a second then said, "I've some Gregorian Chants in the Yaris. Only one CD though, but it's two discs."

"I was joking," I said as we continued to make our way down the mountain.

She turned to me and said, "Well I'm not," and then walked off.

What a strange bird, that Caitlyn Progue. How many Goth girls have Gregorian chants in their car?

I came downstairs after my shower, dressed in usual sweats and tee to the sound of monks chanting throughout my house. There was almost an echo happening. I half expected a line of brown robed, hooded little men to shuffle by. I was sure they were somewhere in the house. I checked to make sure the front window wasn't replaced with stained glass.

"What's cookin' good lookin'?" I kissed Caitlyn as I entered the kitchen.

"I told you, cactus," she said and lifted the lid.

"Wow!" it did smell good. I didn't see any needles, but I did see what appeared to be green tomatoes. "What can I do?"

"Set the table, I'm having my shower. Don't let anything burn."

Off she went. The monks and I were left in charge of cooking... of what I didn't know.

There was a sliced onion and a clove of garlic on the cutting board. The rice was out. I picked up a little box she had obviously bought, Achiote Condimentado. What the hell?

She came down from her shower wearing a black knee length skirt and a white blouse. No bra because I could see nipples and nipple rings poking through. Somehow it didn't match the fuzzy pink slippers. She had some eye makeup on too. Black naturally. But not too much.

From the couch where I sat I peered up holding my newspaper in one hand and beer can in the other. Clearly I had a puzzled look on my face.

"It's Sunday night dinner Doug. Are you really going to be dressed in sweatpants and a tee shirt?"

Gulp.

Apparently I set the table wrong. Caitlyn showed me how the plate has to be one inch from the edge of the table, fork on the left, one inch, knife on the right, also one inch, blade towards the plate. Small fork also on the left, outside of the larger one, also one inch from the table edge. Spoon on the right, outside of the knife.

"We won't need teaspoons," she said grinning, "I'll make a gentleman out of you yet."

What the hell?

Maybe it was the Gregorian monks that were mocking me? I went upstairs to change into nice slacks and a long sleeve shirt.

"That's better," she said smiling as I walked into the kitchen.

"Can I do anything to help?"

"You could pour me a glass of wine. White please." She was stirring the rice and slicing a cucumber at the same time.

I drained back the rest of my beer and poured myself a glass of wine too.

"Do you have candles for the table?" she asked.

"I think so," I answered, and went off in search of something that may or may not exist. After a few minutes I found one. It was only slightly burnt. I popped it into a glass candle holder and set it on the table. I found matches too.

"Go on, light it," she said as she walked into the dining room with two salads on small plates. "Do you have trivets, something to protect the table from hot bowls? We need two."

I found some and lit the candle just as Caitlyn showed up carrying two bowls with serving spoons in them.

I got the hint. I held out Caitlyn's chair for her to sit on as she came back with her wineglass. With a huge smirk on her face she sat down as I pushed her chair in for her.

"Thank you kind sir."

"You are most welcome madam." I took my seat. "Do we need to say grace?"

"If you wish, but I think the monks have been doing that for the last hour, what do you think?"

"I would agree. Please tell me, dear lady, what is it exactly that we are dining on tonight?" I couldn't tell.

"A stew of pork, Nopalitos, that is cactus and tomatillos. And this is rice with achiote, it's a crushed seed, Mayan red."

It was fantastic. I'd never tasted anything like it before. I certainly expressed my gratitude to Caitlyn for the fine dinner.

"Thank you for getting dressed up a little," she smiled holding her fork.

"I must say that your nipples show well through the blouse. Thank you so much."

"See, isn't Sunday dinner nice?" she said with a huge grin on her face.

"With these monks chanting away, does that mean the Sunday night sex has to be missionary style?" I asked.

"Sex on a Sunday night? You must be joking," she said with a straight face.

I think I turned white. I considered her leather collar with a cross, her early Christian music and the Gregorian chants. Is there some Christian taboo about Sunday sex that I don't know about? What was with this girl?

"I'm joking Doug!" She curled her little finger and regarded it for a second.

I let out a sigh of relief.

We cleaned up after dinner. There were enough leftovers for both of our lunches the following day.

I snapped her ass with the tea towel as she ran out of the kitchen giggling heading for the stairs.

She was kneeling on the bed facing the door undoing her blouse when I made it upstairs. Her skirt was hiked up. Fuzzy pink slippers still on.

"Come suck my nipples," she said as she slipped one arm from the sleeve.

Eagerly I approached the bed undoing my shirt.

"Pants too. I want you naked," she said as she tossed her blouse to the side chair.

As I undressed I discovered that Caitlyn hadn't been wearing panties the whole time. I missed some serious grope opportunities, especial during the clean-up. I made a mental note to myself.

She lay on her back on the bed, naked. I crawled up to her and lowered my mouth to her left nipple. Hard ring and soft nipple invaded my mouth. I twisted both with my tongue, my lips pursed and I gently suck it in. I could hear her breath escape. I opened my mouth as wide as I could and sucked in as much breast as possible. Easily half went in. I returned to tongue teasing and gently sucking her nipple. Caitlyn teased my hair as I continued. I switched to the other nipple and repeated the process. Caitlyn's breathing became heavier and heavier. Her nipples became longer and harder. I switched back to the left nipple and started the process again. After a few moments, I switched back to the right.

I suddenly became aware that my cock was rigid.

Caitlyn's face was flushed as I pulled my lips off her nipple. Her fingers immediately continued where my tongue had left off. She gently twisted and tugged at her nipples.

I kissed my way down her belly stopping at the piercing in her belly button. I sucked and twirled it in my mouth before proceeding father south. By the time I reached her public hair I saw that Caitlyn's belly was bouncing.

She spread her legs apart and held her knees up. Her pussy spread open to reveal her pink majesty. The sweet, tangy, earthy essence of Caitlyn juice pulled me in. My tongue touched her pussy lips. I gave her a huge lick and collected as much as she offered. Her taste triggered something deep in my brain because I lost all sense of time and space. It was me and her open pussy; a complete symbiotic relationship. I pleasured her pussy, she pleasured my brain. Her thighs quivered on either side of my head. I was aware of her moaning. I kept licking her innermost folds, tasting, kissing, savoring, extending my tongue into hole, swallowing with delight, twirling her rings with my tongue, kissing her clit, drooling, gently sucking her clit into my mouth, licking the length of her slit, relishing the flavor, poking my tongue into her hole again, swallowing, kissing her clit.

Her thighs and belly were shaking. I could hear her breathing.

I sucked on her clit and held the suction.

"Aauuugh!" her pussy flexed out to my chin. I gave her clit a hard lick, "Nnngghppha," she contracted again, she gasped for air, "hhhhaaa," she exhaled as she flexed again. I sucked in her clit again. "Auuughh," she flexed to my chin again.

She dropped her knees. I saw her pussy contract again. Looking up I saw her face was red, sweaty. Her nostrils flared in search of air.

Her arms flopped to her sides as her chest heaved. With each breath her small tits widened and flattened.

"Oh god," she gasped.

I lapped at her pussy again and was rewarded with a good dose.

"Fuck me," she said breathlessly.

"Doggy?" I suggested playfully.

Without answering she rolled herself over and up onto her hands and knees.

"Shuffle down the bed," I said to her, pulling her hips towards the foot of the bed. She complied. I shifted myself around the bed so that my cock was in front of her face. My cock was at full mast, pointing straight up. Before I had a chance to suggest anything Caitlyn's mouth was on my cock, she was trying to stuff it down her throat but the angle was incorrect. She left it glistening with saliva.

I shifted and positioned myself behind her ass. She lowered her face and chest to the bed, Her right hand moved to her pussy, with her index and middle fingers catching her inner labia and rings she splayed her pussy open. Silently offering, inviting me in.

My cockhead was there right away. I pushed it in. She was tight, warm, wet. I grabbed a hold of her hips.

"Ohhh," she exhaled.

I pushed all the way in and held my cock inside her.

"Ohhh...yeah...ohhh," she gasped.

I slid my cock out and slowly slid it back.

"Yeah, that's it...fuck me."

Her fingers found her clit.

I slid my cock out and pushed it back in. I could feel her knuckles on my scrotum.

We started a good rhythm, she fucked back eagerly anticipating every push of my cock inside her. With each stroke the momentum increased. With each stroke the vigor and intensity increased. Very soon I was fucking her and she was screwing right back with all of her might.

The temperature in the bedroom increased, the oxygen level decreased. Our chests were pumping for air. Her right cheek was pressed to the bed, her face was red, nostrils flared.

I loved watching Caitlyn's pussy lips get pushed in and then drawn out as they followed every stroke of my cock. Her bumhole flexed with her pussy lips. I was like a voyeur, gazing at the details of a porno film that I was starring in. Fully involved, but somehow detached. It only fueled my addled brain, pushing me closer to the edge.

Her brown bum hole was tightening and loosening, seeming on it its own volition. I dribbled some spit down and hit it squarely. I licked my right index finger.

Just between flexes, I slipped my finger in.

"Ahh," her head shot up. After a moment as I continued to fuck her relentlessly, her head found the bed again.

I twisted my wrist and my index finger as I pounded into her. Her neck and head was bright pink.

Caitlyn's relentless clit rubbing was pushing her. Her bum and thighs were shivering uncontrollably even though I was holding her hip with one hand and grinding my finger into her bum with the other.

I fucked with my cock in and out, angle to one side, to the other, angle down, roll my hips so that her bum hole was pushed out so I could penetrate more with my finger. Deep jab and another. Such joy!

"Aaauuughh," her orgasm hit her as if she was smacked suddenly. Her spine arched up. I could feel tightness around my cock. I saw her bumhole contract around my finger. "Uuughh," she did it again. Fingernails nipped at my scrotum as I buried my cock deep into her and finger as deep as it would go. "Nngghh," she was gasping for air. Drool was collecting on the bed next to her face. It was too much to watch and feel.

I burst inside her. My hips flexed uncontrollably in recoil to each spurt. Everything was suddenly hot and wet. I was aware of my need for air. My heart was beating rapidly.

Caitlyn's spine arched up and down as she reacted to my orgasm.

I fell on the bed, rolling onto my back. My rapidly deflating pecker flopped to the side, still glistening.

Caitlyn's fingers were on her pussy searching. "You came didn't you?" she asked. Her fingers shifted to her mouth.

"Yeah." I thought that was quite evident.

She flipped herself off the bed and squatted on the floor next to the bed. Her legs wide open. Her right hand cupped under her puss.

Still on my back I watched the entire proceedings with my head hanging off the edge of the bed.

"There we go," she smiled and pulled her hand to her mouth. Scoop, lick, finger, lick, she repeated four or five times. She stood to get access to my cock and managed to slip one of her cummy fingers into my mouth. "Nice?"

"Mnnng," I managed before she pulled her finger out. Why does she do that?

Once her post coital ritual was complete s we lay on the bed wrapped in each other's arms. I pulled the sheet over us.

"Thank you," we whispered to each other.

"Tell me about your family," she said as we lay cuddling.

"I have a mother and a father, both retired and doing well, and an older sister. She lives in Chicago. Mum and dad live in the same house we grew up in, in town. He was with the post office. She used to work for a printing company. What about you?"

"I never worked for a printing company."

I smacked her bum.

"Three older brothers. One's a lawyer in Ottawa, one's a doctor, a podiatrist..."

"He delivers babies?" I interjected.

"No that's a pediatrician, he's a foot doctor," she corrected me then continued, "and the third is a chemical engineer working for an oil exploration company."

No wonder Caitlyn grew up thinking she wasn't good enough.

"What about your parents what do they do?" I asked.

"My dad's semi-retired. He was partner in a downtown law firm. My mom never worked except for raising us."

"Wow, sounds like a well to do family," I commented.

"We did okay," she said casually and yawned.

After a few moments I asked, "Where did you learn to cook?"

"In a kitchen."

"What? Did you take classes or work in a restaurant?"

"No. From my mom. It was her job and then my job to feed the men in the house."

"That's a bit sexist isn't it? In today's world?" I asked.

"We were traditional Catholic, what can I tell you?" She yawned.

"What did they want you to become?" I asked.

"A mother of twelve children. Other than that, I don't think they cared." I could see her eyes closing.

"Shut the light off," I said. She did.

"Goodnight sweetheart," I whispered.

"Goodnight Doug," she whispered back and yawned.

*

On Monday we packed up the bench rails but didn't call numb-nuts to tell him they were ready for pick up. That could wait until Wednesday. I didn't want him to get the impression he overpaid for the work.

That morning a landscape architect that I'd worked with several times called me and asked me to stop by his office. We needed to deliver a bunch of stuff up to Whistling Swans anyway, so I combined the two events. Plus I wanted to get the dress for Caitlyn.

I asked her to come along.

We off loaded at the golf course then went to the architect's office.

"Frank Proulx, this is Caitlyn Progue. Caitlyn, Frank." They shook hands.

"So you're the new Alfie?" Frank sized her up.

"New and improved," I said.

"Oh?"

"Caitlyn has talents, which Alfie never had," I turned to her grinning.

She blushed. I knew what she was thinking...'Doug, you prick'.

Frank described the job. He was doing the landscaping for a very well-to-do couple's house. The work included a large deck with an outdoor kitchen, a hot tub spa area and a gazebo together with a privacy fence in two locations. "The whole garden is themed on lilies as the guy's wife's name is Lily and it's her favorite plant," he said. "Day lilies, he added as an afterthought.

"Do you have this job or are you just bidding on it?"

He laid out a set of drawings. They had his logo on it.

"I've got the job. It's a go-ahead."

"Excellent," I said.

He wanted us to do bas-relief carvings of lilies on the woodwork. "Nothing gaudy or garish," he said. "And no paint."

Looking at the drawings I asked, "Where exactly do you want the carvings?"

"You tell me. Give me your proposal and your price."

"Okay," I said, "is the work to be done in situ or can it be done in my shop?"

"In your shop would be better, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, and less expensive. Let me ask, is it the same lily pattern to be used everywhere?"

"No I don't want to brand it. But I don't think the budget is there to custom carve everything. I need your carvings to tie everything together. To make it flow. What do you suggest?"




Help Wanted



"That we develop six or eight patterns and use them over and over. Butt two together if it has to make a larger piece. Put three or more together if it needs to be larger still."

"Hey Doug, this is why I go to you."

"When do you need drawings?"

"End of week?" he was stretching, he knew it.

"Caitlyn, is that enough time for you?" I asked.

She looked at me in shock. Her face completely changed as she turned to him. She smiled at Frank and said. "That will be plenty, we'll have drawings to you by Friday afternoon. Thanks Frank."

What a pro.

"Together with our cost estimate proposal," she said as she smiled to me.

Oh the devious little wench.

"What makes you think that I can design a bunch of lilies?" she asked as we drove away.

"If you can design and draw up that tattoo of yours, you can design and draw up a bunch of stupid lilies."

She was grinning as we drove along.

We stopped by Talbot's dress shop on the way home. Caitlyn had horror written all over her face as we approached the older sales lady. "Could you please set up this young lady with a sexy dress? Something flowery and feminine? Preferably pink. I'll be back in a half hour to pay for it."

"Certainly, come right this way dear." She smiled and held her hand out to Caitlyn.

Caitlyn took the lady's hand and turned her face to mine. Poison darts flew at me together with an upturned middle finger behind her back.

I left the store chuckling.

On my way to the food court I sussed out a couple of other stores. Shoes and a handbag. Plus make-up. All pink.

Caitlyn was going to kill me.

It was perfect.

I didn't see her in the dress, it was packed up ready to be paid for when I got back.

We went to the other stores. I sat on the bench outside as she sorted herself out inside. I just showed up at the cash register at the right time.

By the time we made it to Victoria's Secret the look of horror on her face had been completely replaced with a mischievous smirk.

I needed to figure out a coming out event.

Dinner that night was T-bone steaks, fried potatoes dashed with paprika, peas and carrots with melted butter and a lettuce, cucumber and avocado salad with a lemony vinaigrette dressing.

She followed me outside to watch me barbeque the steaks. I flipped them onto the hot grille. Steak on a gas barbeque? Man's world stuff, right?

Wrong.

"Not like that," she said as she lifted the steaks off. She repositioned them at a forty five degree angle to grille.

"And when you flip them, flip them a hundred and eighty degrees so it's still at a forty five degree angle to the grille. Then the next flip is at ninety degrees," she showed me with her hand, "and then the final flip is a hundred and eighty degrees. And that's it. No more flipping. That way the steaks will have perfect X's from the grille marks, back and front."

I stood then with my mouth open in disbelief.

"And turn it up to high," she said as she walked away.

"Yes ma'am."

She was right. They were perfect. They tasted the same I suppose, but they certainly looked better.

"So when did you lose your virginity?" I asked as I gathered salad on my fork.

"Oh gees, it seems like last week. I remember his name, yes, it was Doug Jenner."

"Fuck off, I wasn't your first."

She chewed her steak for a while then said smiling, "Maybe not my first, but certainly my best."

"Oh, that's so sweet. Liar." I cut into the steak. Maybe it tasted better too?

"It was only when I went to art school. I was a virgin all through high school."

"Really?"

"I told you," she said, "no one wanted to date me."

I sliced another piece of steak and chewed for a moment, then said "As I remember high school, yes there were a number of dates that I went on, but for the most part it was a bunch of kids hanging out together. That's where the social and sexual interaction took place."

"Is that how it worked for you?" she asked and then added, "when did you lose yours?"

"It was exactly like that. It was a house party. I was fourteen. So was she. Maria Lopez. I'll never forget her."

"Was she cute?"

"Cute and drunk. So was I."

"Cute?"

I smiled at Caitlyn and sliced another piece of steak, purposely ignoring the last question. I said, "You must have been in similar social situations during high school, you know, hanging around with other kids and then fooling around."

"Yeah, I did I guess. But that's how girls got reputations, like my friend Carly did."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and it's not fair," she said, "if a girl sleeps with four or five different guys she's called a slut, but if a guy does that..."

"Then he's gay. Most definitely he's gay." I interrupted smiling.

She laughed.

"So you managed to avoid having a reputation in high school by not having sex?" I asked.

"I didn't say I didn't have sex," she corrected me, "I just said I remained a virgin."

"And you avoided getting a reputation?" I asked.

"Yes, but that was by mutual threat. I told Billy that if he told anyone that I sucked his cock I would tell everyone the truth."

"Which was?"

"That he had a tiny cock, which was true."

"Oh so you came to a mutual agreement. Did you only suck him off once?"

"Hell no. And he'd eat my pussy and fingered me. We just never fucked." She smiled at me.

"So you did have a normal high school upbringing." I said.

"I guess," she answered as she picked out the last of her salad. "I remember my first time. Looking back on it now it was quite comical. He came in about three seconds."

"Poor bastard," I said, "quick and tiny."

"Yeah," she laughed, "he was a bit of a nerd." She bit into her last piece of steak and asked, "Do you remember your first blow job?"

"Yeah, I do." I answered. The image of Gina popped in my mind.

"Did you swallow?" she asked smiling.

"Fuck off!" I threw my crunched up napkin at her.

"What, you've never had a gay experience?" she asked grinning.

"No, have you?"

"Maybe," mock innocent eyes again.

"Get off, you did not." I said.

"All I can say is that art college was full of crazy chicks."

I stood up and picked up our empty plates. "That is quite evident," I said.

She smiled as she followed me into the kitchen with the salad bowl.

We cleaned up and made our way upstairs.

After brushing my teeth and doing all the usual stuff I walked out of the bathroom naked. She was already on the bed, naked too. It was that little bit of an awkward moment. We knew what we wanted to do, just didn't know how to get it started. I lay down next to her and rubbed her pussy gently.

"Cate, tell me, what was the best sexual experience that you ever had?"

"Honestly?"

"Seriously, what was it?"

"The first time we made love."

"Really?"

"Absolutely."

I tried to recall exactly what we did. I licked her pussy. Pulled my fingers out in a vee. I remembered that. Then we fucked. She came first. A lot. I remembered that too. Still, that couldn't have been so special.

"What was so special?" I asked.

"It was when you came inside me. The other times when we've fucked, I was still convulsing from my own orgasm and I didn't really notice you cumming. But that time, I could feel you cum inside me. Every pulse. It was unbelievably sexy. I think about it a lot. It drives me wild. So fucking sexy."

"Really?"

"Duh?"

"Do you want me to do it again?" I was grinning.

She rolled over onto me and planted a big fat kiss on my lips. "Do it again."

Music to my ears. I had to think it through for a moment but then I said, "Masturbate for me."

I rolled to the side and then perched myself between her legs. They were splayed wide open. Nothing was hidden. She was a glorious sight.

Her fingers found her clit.

Mine found my shaft. It was hard already.

Our eyes, briefly, found each others.

I focused on her pussy as she rubbed it. She, laser like, stared at my cock. I stroked it languidly up and down.

She licked her lips.

I stroked. Up. Down. Up. Down.

Her fingers were busy on her clit.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Her nostrils flared.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Her fingers were a blur on her clit. Her left hand fingers were on her left nipple ring. I added my fingers to her right.

Up. Down. Up, down.

She stared at my cock. Up. Down. Up, down.

She was in a frenzy.

Up. Down. Up, down. I squeezed my cock and brought a dribble of pre-cum out.

"Ohhh!" she reacted immediately. Her head bobbed down. She couldn't resist.

"Lick only," I said, "don't suck."

She licked. Big time. She hit the vee under my cock head, my eyes rolled in their sockets as she did. Her fingers never let up on her clit. Her face was all red when she lifted it.

I kept stroking myself. She kept watching. Her whole body was twitching.

Briefly, she glanced into my eyes. Her green eyes were glassy. Her mouth hung open. Nostrils were flared. She was breathing hard.

I continued to stroke. I squeezed some pre-cum out of my cock. I scooped it up with my finger and slipped it into her mouth. Her eyes closed as she licked my fingers. I could see the satisfaction in her face.

Her fingers were still a blur. We both tugged at her nipples.

Up. Down. Up, down.

"Fuuuuckkkk!" she screamed as her entire body convulsed before me. What a sight to behold. The whole bed shook. I had to let go of the nipple for fear of permanently damaging her.

I watched her vagina contract and open and contract again, over and over. She was oozing Caitlyn heroin from her pussy. I couldn't help myself. I scooped some up with my finger and popped it into my mouth.

Bliss.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down Up. Down. Up. Down.

No longer were they languid strokes. I was going to cum soon. We both knew it.

Caitlyn sat back and opened her legs up wide, knees bent. I lunged forward. I pushed my dick into her, balls deep.

"Ohhh!" she gasped.

"Lay still," I managed to get out.

My flaring cock pulsed inside her pussy, ready to blow off. That was what she wanted. Me too.

She was breathing hard. "Lay still," I whispered. She did.

It only took me two slow strokes before I got to the point of no return and stopped, deep inside her. I held my breath.

My sphincter contracted as I shot my semen. And again. And again. And again.

I took a deep breath and the last of my cum escaped from my cock.

I'm sure my face was contorted into a grotesque. It felt like I pumped a ton into her. Her pussy was suddenly warm and wet.

Aside from breathing hard, she didn't make a sound. Her eyes rolled around her head.

Her face reddened, her breathing accelerated and her pussy muscles contracted. Over and over and over. She didn't make a sound aside from a gulp at the end of it.

I guess she liked it.

We lay there for a few moments. I needed oxygen. My dick started to shrink and slip inside of her.

"Don't fucking move," she commanded in a low voice.

I complied.

Her body shuddered again.

"How do you do that to me?" she whispered.

"Do what?"

"Make me cum like that," she answered.

"It's all in your head," I whispered.

"No, it's all in my cunt."

"Do you want me to feed it to you?" I could feel my cock slipping in her warm hole.

"You bet." She smiled and her eyes sparkled.

I pulled my cock out and immediately placed my fingers at her opening. Cum oozed out. I scooped it with my fingers and fed it to her open mouth. She licked my fingers with relish. My fingers made it back just in time to catch another dribble. I repeated the process. On the fourth scooping I had to push my two fingers inside her to coat them with cum.

She insisted that I put my elongated, softened cock into her mouth so that she could clean it off too. I hadn't realized that she fingered herself as she cleaned me off.

That glistening finger found its way into my mouth as I pulled my cock out from her and repositioned myself on the bed. How does she do that?

"Do you like it?" she asked with a playful list to her voice.

"No, not particularly." I answered to her giggles.

"You know you have a cum fetish," I said.

"No I don't. I have a Doug Jenner fetish."

"You're crazy."

"Crazy about you."

I kissed her cum drenched lips. She plunged her tongue into my mouth.

We hugged and kissed. I tickled her nipples. She played with my flaccid cock. I gave her a full body massage. She rubbed her clit to orgasm again. She scratched my back.

I fell asleep.

*

The next morning Caitlyn got busy with the drawings. I told her what size each should be. I suggested five be 9" wide by 36" tall that could be used side by side and that two should be 8" x 8" and one 4" x 12". I had all kinds of paper to draw on, tracing paper too and pencils and erasures galore.

I showed her an example of how to draw a bas-relief pattern.

I showed her how to work the scanner/photocopier/printer unit.

She set herself up in the little office at the drafting table. I didn't bug her or check in on her. I could see her working away through the window. Sometimes the pencil would be set in her lips. Sometimes she was referencing something on the internet. She seemed to be really enjoying herself.

It warmed my heart.

By the end of the day she didn't have eight drawings. She had twenty four. Each drawing came in three versions. Sparsely carved, luxuriantly carved and an intermediate between the two. The most astonishing element was that with the five large drawings, she had managed to pattern the work such that every panel perfectly aligned with every other panel creating a continuous carving of lilies in abundance. The five could be mix and matched in any number of possibilities. Each one became a unique pattern of lilies.

I was stunned.

"Do you like it?" she asked with trepidation in her face.

"I can't believe what I'm looking at Caitlyn, this is amazing! Do I like it? It's unbelievable. You're unbelievable."

She was beaming.

I put the drawings down, "Come here give me a kiss," I said.

"Unh unh unh, not in the shop," she said wagging a finger at me but still smiling.

"Step outside then lady." She skipped to the door. I followed.

We hugged and kissed. "You absolutely amaze me," I told her as we embraced. She hugged me tightly. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "You really are beautiful you know." More tears flowed.

"I was afraid you weren't going to like them."

That inner insecurity was still there. "I love them," I said. I wondered if I loved her too. It was sure getting to feel that way.

"Any chance you can stay the night?" I asked, still hugging her.

"Sorry I can't tonight," she frown up at me, "it's my dad's birthday."

How disappointing. Right then and there I realized just how hard I'd fallen for Caitlyn.

*

It took me pretty well all of Wednesday to price up what Caitlyn had drawn and to prepare the proposal. They could buy only a little carving work or a lot, depending on their tastes and budget. I let her read the final draft. She marked it all up in red pencil greatly improving it all.

While I was preparing the proposal, Caitlyn had carved a sample of one of the 9" x 36" panels.

She went home that night, much to my dismay.

*

Thursday we delivered the proposal and sample to Frank Proulx. He flipped through the proposal, looked at the drawings, examined the sample and flipped through the proposal again. He looked at me, at Caitlyn, then said, "Next time, I'm just going to Caitlyn. This is amazing. The client is going to love it. Your proposal and design is perfect. It gives them any number of options to choose."

Caitlyn squeezed my hand under the table.

We talked about money for the project. Frank said he was a little baffled, the client hadn't given him an overall budget. He would simply go to the client, offer them several options and they would pick one and the working budget was adjusted accordingly. Or they would send him away in search of another solution.

He explained that he was going nuts trying to find landscape lighting that would satisfy the client. The client was adamant that the fixtures be shaped like a Day Lily. It's something he had promised his wife.

On our drive back, Caitlyn asked me why we couldn't make a light fixtures that are shaped like a lily.

"It's a light fixture. It's made of metal, it's got glass, something that the light bulb has to plug into and wire." I said.

"So?"

"Caitlyn, we have a wood shop, not a metal shop."

"So, we design it and we sub it out."

"Caitlyn, what do you know about designing a light fixture?"

"Nothing, Doug. What I do know is that Frank has a problem which is essentially a design and manufacturing problem and we design and do effectively small manufacturing." She glared at me with that 'duh' look.

She was absolutely correct. "I do know a couple of metal shops," I said, then added, "and a custom glass blowing place. You're brilliant, you know that."

She smiled and grabbed my hand squeezing it.

"Let me call Frank," I said. I called him from the pick-up truck as we drove along. He picked up.

"Frank, it's Doug. I've got Caitlyn beside me, we're on speakerphone."

"Yes?"

"Caitlyn's got an idea for your lighting problem."

"Okay?"

"What if we put a drawing together of what the light fixture should look like...," I said.

"Fixtures."

"Okay fixtures. We'll design them so they more or less follow the same pattern as the wood carvings and we'll have a metal shop make them up. I know a glass guy."

"Caitlyn?" Frank asked, "Can you really do that?"

"Yeah, why not?" she said.

"Sounds great," he said, "can you do it in stainless steel?"

"Yes," I answered. "Anything can be done for a price. But never mind the money right now. How many different types of fixtures are required and how many of each?"

"A downlight pendant, an uplight spot, wall scones and lights for the steps, but those I've got figured out. So, three types. I don't have the exact numbers in front of me right now but call it two hundred pendants, fifty spots and fifty wall scones. And you know what? I know a guy who can actually make the fixtures, you know, do the wiring and all that, but he can't make the decorative part."

"That's perfect Frank," Catlin said leaning into the cell phone, "when do you meet with the client?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

She said, "We'll have drawings for you by then, concept drawings anyway. Can you send us something that shows us what you're looking for functionally? Like some catalogue cuts?"

"I can email you what I've proposed so far and the lighting plans. I can do that right now."

"Great." We both said.

"Caitlyn, you're brilliant. Doug, do you have any idea how lucky you are to have Caitlyn?"

"Every day is a new surprise Frank," I smiled at her, she was beaming back, "and I count my blessings every day."

We ended the call. Caitlyn was almost bouncing in her seat. I was so happy for her.

"Thanks Doug," she said smiling and squeezing my hand.

"Caitlyn, I didn't do anything. This is all coming from your brain."

She couldn't stop grinning as she looked out the window. On top of everything else she had good business acumen too. Just how lucky could I get?

"I need to work a little late tonight. Do you mind if I stay at your place?" she asked with mock innocence in her face.

I was getting to know that mock innocent look.

"You expect me to cook?" I asked.

"No," she laughed and then added, "take-out."

"Deal." She hugged my bicep as we drove.

When we got back to the shop Caitlyn ensconced herself in the little office again. I did some shop work and then cleaned up, leaving her working in the office.

After showering, I took off to pick-up Chinese food. They don't deliver where I am. As I pulled in with the food I noticed the shop light was off. Caitlyn was up in the shower. On the dining room table were six drawings. Three were free-form sketches, one of each lily fixture type. The other three were drawings that showed each fixture in front, side and top views complete with dimensions, just like a professional draughtsman would make.




Help Wanted



I read the newspaper ad "elderly man looking for a living in nurse". Being a certified male nurse I decided to check it out. I was excited about finishing my residency and being considered the top nurse at the hospital I worked for but everything was put on hold after my girlfriend of four years decided to go on a Bahama vacations with her friends and found someone else more compatible with from our zip code. Not wanting to be around anything that reminded me of her I backpacked it around cities after cities hitchhiking here and there all until I got to this cash and carry store away from town and decided to glance the classified ads. The ad didn't really come with much detail other than a contact number and that I would be taking care of an older man. Of course I had to frisky up my resume a bit lied about the kind of doctor group I worked for and the job I was doing to get an interview but it was almost too easy. Too easy getting the job and they could of easily proven me a liar by dialing any of the references I had given them. 

Getting to the only house near the only lake in town was easier to do that I had given myself credit for. Being so far away from a town I used to call home I would need to at least have a sense of directions but not having a specific place in mind and just following the road up north wasn't rocket science. All roads leads to Rome mind of thinking. I was quickly ushered in introduce and presented with a choice of whatever I wanted to drink I went for the safest answer and ask for water. The madame I had spoken too came through the double doors rolling a wheelchair with what would be my patience for the upcoming month or months as she wasn't sure how long her job would keep her away. 

A quick shake of the hand did it for her and she assured me that my story checked out and so she would be glad to take me in as long as I still wanted the job. With my poker face intact I go for the mister's hand and it was almost as if he has used all his strength to yank me by the arm all the way to eye level for a malicious grin and a wink. It took a second or two to recompose but I couldn't hide the blush in my face and having him staring me like a hunter do to its pray didn't help me in any way. After a rather rushed explanation of his physical limitations, medications, routines stuff I felt like I was somehow in the know. Being me I wanted to ask about how he ended up in the wheelchair and that's the first time I heard his very deep voice answering my question "age, being old would do that to you". Suddenly the floor seem more appealing at the moment and I wish being eye raped by the man in questioned was in the list of my job duties so I know not to apply. Of course I have had man awkwardly stared me down in the locker room at the fitness center I attended but being into girl all my life I honestly never being exposed to anything the like. Besides I probably was just exaggerating. I don't play well with strangers who does. 

The start date was set, guest room was prepped and with my book bag in my left hand I shake with my right this time walking away with my hand hurting from his hard grip and the feel of his eyes following me all over the place. Like I always do whenever the most beautiful girl in the planet gets in my peripheral vision. With the madame away and the help around if any question arisen I prepared myself for a quick shower before starting the day. However after hearing the little bell the mister now carries I realized the day had started and I was kind of late on my first day at the job. Rushing to the mister room not bothering to knock to my shock the mister is basically standing five feet from his wheelchair letting it all loose both hands on his hip watching my face going from his huge shaved balls up his chest to his face and awkwardly decided to look down again out of embarrassment and regretting that too. "Sorry about that kid but I'm used to showering this way." 

"The madame did told you I needed to be helped and looked after, am I right?"

The jolt from hearing his deep voice always put me at ease and with my professional faced on I signal the way. "My walking isn't as fast as yours so I will need you closer and also not being afraid of touching me." 

"Yes sir" I replied. His eyes never looked away from my face and his swinging penis going up and down getting bigger by the second as I set him the chair in the shower had me thinking I hadn't signed up for this. "Am I getting showered up and dress kid or do you like what you see?" Apologetically I went for the soap and a sponge and started on his chest. With his eyes never looking away and his penis only getting harder it was getting harder for me showering him. I felt overwhelmed. "You can have a closer look if that's what you want kid" Ignoring his comment I started on his lower body not spending too much time at any specific place keeping my hand safe from much contact. As I turned to grab the towel the mister quickly gets up lines himself behind me so that his pole his pointing at my ass. With the excuse that he needed help getting out of the shower and that the towel wasn't necessary. As he whisper it all into my ear his lip almost caressing my neck with each word. 

And then he takes my fragile neck into his mouth and sucks very hard leaving a mark in its place when he was done. Freeing myself from his hold I turned around stunned and faces him only to have him grab my head with both hands and planting a long wet kiss on me not letting me speak. Disrespected and abused as I felt I couldn't hide my excitement with the scrubs I had thrown on after hearing the belt. Why was I aroused? Why was I allowing it all? With his hands now cupping my waist he frees me from my scrubs and then I was exposed. My first reaction was to go for my pants and put them back on but with a twist of his lower body I was first slapped in the face and then forced into my mouth. Grabbing my head with both hands now my eyes tearing up and squinting coupled with the fast thrusting I was brutally entered, suffocated, and spurted down my throat. Now coughing and wanting to puke face blushing-red cum oozing down my lips as he comes out of me. He deadlifts me by the head plants another kiss on me and whispers to me "your turn".

I freed from his hold steps back trip on the towel pants still down refused and clumsily manages to put them on and hurried out of the bathroom. Basically running to gather my stuff from my room about to leave when I hear the madame close the door behind me telling me "Your intro was rather brusque but you will come to love it" as she locks me in...



Help Wanted: Lust Relief



The American Indian was a hedonistic creature that learned that tribal living was a great benefit for survival. Their uninhibited life style, and closeness to nature, provided the motivation to enjoy the greatest gift of life, sexual recreation! 

Survival was work, for a culture that believed life and death was merely an adventure, with sex and birth a wondrous interruption of daily existence. The tribal lifestyle just didn't allow for jealousy, and sex had no connotation of crime. If a man beat a squaw, the leaders would punish him – however, if he seduced her successfully regardless of bullshit or mind control – even if the maiden was the chief's wife or daughter – it was no big deal, and life went on. In fact, both parties of a sexual encounter always had their tribal status improved. With that said, let's get on with my story of delightful debauchery. 

The year is 1982 in a reservation village in Okalahoma, where living comforts are sparse and employment opportunities are meager.

First Time.

"Mom, now that I am 18 years old, and would like to go to Indian college, I just have a real hunger to be with a man, you know what I mean? Would it be so wrong to experiment and loose my virginity?" "I guess it is about time for you to become a woman my darling. This also means you are no longer my baby, but a companion instead. It will be very easy for you to make babies because your so pretty, and healthy, my daughter. So let me tell you all the 'secret' Indian ways to hold babies back until you fully mate with a brave – the man you would like to spend your life with, to help with raising your tribal newcomers."

After reinforcing the child's knowledge of intercourse (that she already witnessed inside the their small home over the years) and explaining the mechanics and wonder of male ejaculation, Martha then let Naomi out to play a bit of field hockey with her friends. 

          ******** 

Naomi's agility did it again at the playing field of ground hockey; making the boys who were beaten, titter with laughter. 

"I don't know how you get so much energy girl," Frank exclaimed. "You are faster than a rabbit, whacking the ball quicker than I can handle." The other boys were shrieking in laughter. 

"The mighty hunter Frank cannot handle a Squaw, pray a field mouse don't attack you!" Grey Wolf chided.

"Come Naomi lets get away from these idiots." Said Frank, with Naomi now following him down a trail toward the river.

After they get to a small clearing in the tall grass by the river, Frank pulls Naomi down, and sits along side her.

"I guess the fact that I am becoming a woman is what is giving me this extra energy Frank." With that, Frank perks right up. "So, you are no longer a virgin – congratulations sweetheart!"

"No asshole, I have become of age and ready for my first time, and now am now safe for another month."

"Well, I am an expert in these matters, so let me check you out. That's it; raise your dress and move your panty over so I can see your pussy. That's it girl, spread your legs a bit, and let me taste you."

"Only if you will let me gain some experience by letting me suck your cock, to see if I can make it stiff and long, like my mother described (giggle) – without Mom realizing (I hope) that I already have given most of the boys in the tribe 'peace of mind' with a blowjob." With that Frank Snickered! 

"Since you are aware of what we are supposed to do, I will let you go first," and he presented her with his massive inflated cock. 

Although Naomi had seen Frank's cock before, it seemed to have special meaning to her for the first time in her life. She took it into her hands with the attitude it was a special totem, fondling it, along with the sacks hanging loose. 

She had thrilled boys before, practicing mostly with her brother, and so enjoying her newfound freedom she tenderly licked the end, pushing the foreskin back to increase sensitivity. Slowly she engulfed the tip and pressed her tongue about his cock until it started to sink deep into her mouth while making it firm up fully. Frank was starting to have difficulty breathing, while warming up to the oral sex being performed.

"Enough girl. Are you proud to make my cock stand up like this?"

She was a bit confused when she answered "uh, why yes," with a somewhat hurt appearance fearing that would be as far as the lesson would go - until Frank gathered her in his arms and hugged her while licking her ears and kissing her neck, while guiding her to lie on her back. 

Raising the hem of her dress and removing her panties, while she obliged by spreading her legs far apart, Frank started kissing her thighs moving upward to plant a quick kiss on her pussy lips, only to move higher and hold her hips while kissing and licking her tummy above her heavy growth of pubic hair.

Naomi was now experiencing the extreme wetness within her pussy that was the preparation for intercourse, that her mother explained was intensifying her desire. With a gasp of surprise, she felt his lips land on her pussy, and then a tongue slithered up and down her seam, until occasionally bumping into her clit, making her want to move into the motion, so her heels dug in while her groin started humping for more excitation.

"Oh, Frank, this feels so good, please be my first and press your cock into me." 

With that he took her legs and placed them on his shoulders folding her over, "I will take this slow, and if you need to stop, tell me. I just don't want to hurt you." He took his impressive cock and guided the tip to pierce into her cuntal lips, and he slowly started to press forward, thrilling her with the snug friction of her cunt stretching and sliding over his large cock. 

Now she voluntarily started to move her groin onto his – until nature's obstruction was met. They both locked their eyes onto each other's, and a smile broke out on Naomi's face. Frank started to push it deeper into her again for her to start a pain induced moan, then "Damn, its hurting bad!"

"It will pass, I shall force it to tear, and you will be a full woman."

"Please don't, it hurts too much. Your cock is just too big for me right now. Help me come down from this need, and let me help you cum."

Reluctantly, Frank rolled off and lay on his back with his prick pointing to the clouds while Naomi removed her garment and straddled his body trapping his huge cock in her pussy lips. Now the two of them started undulating together, with her feeling the calming sex she was used to masturbating as a juvenile. His cock soaking in her juices, was sliding away until she started shivering in preparation to an orgasm...oops, the tip his cock slipped into her cunt, and was tapping against her hymen, to give her the thrill of completion without the pain of devirgination. While his hands were squeezing her titties, he was still thrusting into her entryway, when because of her encouragement; he finally lost his control and attempted to press into her while ejaculating. 

"Ow!" she cried, and the cock retreated, stopped, spewed more sperm into her cunt, and then was lifted out of her carrying strings of intermixed cum.

"Thank you Frank for your great understanding." As she covered his face with little kisses of gratitude. 

"You did teach me what to expect, and it really felt good - until it hurt again. Once I get free of this curse, I want you to give me the fucking you deserve (giggle). Maybe a smaller cock than your fat one will work better?"

           *****

"So Mother, I almost became a woman today, with the help of Frank. Look, I still have his sperm dripping from my cunt." Naomi lifted her dress and drew a dollop of cum out of her cunt with her fingers for display.

"It was wonderful until he tried to fully enter me, and then the pain was just too much! When I complained, he relinquished and backed out so we could rub our organs together for completion – with him sliding his tip back into me to ejaculate."

"Frank is such a pussy; however is a wise man because that monster cock of his could have done some serious, umm, damage!" She said, with a somewhat wanton sigh. "I told you this would happen my darling." 

"So, don't worry my child, it will happen to completion – and that is a fact of life! Every experience you have will force you to eventually impale yourself onto a needy male's cock, and though painful at first, you will bask in happiness as your partner proceeds in lust to his gratification. Us females enjoy the feeling of sharing life's pleasure. Once you've played the field my darling, you will be better at selecting the brave you wish to live your life with; and to bear your children with."

"Oh Mother, you are so wise."

             ******

That night, in the glow of the fire pit, Naomi was tossing and turning, only to feel Richard her brother slide up against her, and put his arms about her. "Hush, what's wrong Sis, why can't you sleep?"

"I don't know, I guess it is the day's events that I am caught up with. Frank tried to make me a woman, and it just hurt too much. It is so sweet of you to be concerned about me. I love you my brother."

"That's it, roll to me Sis and let my long cock slide up against your cunt to comfort you. Good! Sleeping naked has lots of advantages. Ah, these children games are so delightful, but slow down girl, you will get me too excited and I will have to push it into your juicy pussy, now that you are old enough!"

"Richard, I wish you would. To get this over with."

With that said she felt kisses all over her face, while her pussy was getting very wet making Richard's cock very slippery as her extended clit was now riding upon a very rigid prick. Richard angled his body away so as to dip his cock's head between her labia that were standing guard over her entryway, and thus occasionally he dipped inside her vagina to seduce gasps of pleasure from his student. He then pressed a tit to his lips to suckle on a nipple. 

"Ohh uh," she moaned. "Although you are my brother, I am proud you are so experienced. Oh, my other tit is getting jealous. Uh, your cock rubbing my cunt feels so good I don't want to stop. Have you been fucking the other girls?"

"Yes my sister, and now you will be another woman that has enjoyed me when I display your virgin blood on my cock. Roll over so I can have access to your cunt with my lips and tongue. I wish to make you a total wanton sweetheart."

Rolling onto her back Naomi realized it was quite warm in the house reinforcing her security as she spread her legs to play the childhood game of having her cunt licked. She felt her wetness oozing out of her only to be pressed back by her brother's tongue. Moving higher, she gasped as she felt the tip of his tongue address her navel, that conjured up different feelings within her, only for him to drift back down again, with his head between her thighs while his fingers pressed her slippery cunt's inflated lips apart - totally exposing her clitoris to his tender assault. 

He took the tip of his tongue and danced upon the rigid nub. Making her moan in delight.

"Hush Sis, you will wake everyone up," as he continued to lick the length of her lips, while delving his tongue like a spear into her opening.

"Oh shit! I am so ready to feel you my brother, please fuck me now!" 

With that he told her to get on her hands and knees, and put her rump into the air - while spreading her legs for his access. She eagerly responded, and Richard came up behind her and placed his firm cock against her torrid cunt making her shiver in anticipation. 

Slipping the head of his penis up and down her cunt he gained as much lubrication as possible, until she pleaded for him to put it into her. He finally entered, and with a few short thrusts that intensified the desire burning within her, he investigated the distance to her barrier, while she was humping hungrily upon the tip of his intruding cock seeking pure sexual relief – but with a twinge of fear of being impaled. 

He backed up a bit to her dismay, by him pushing her hips away from his groin, only to quickly pull her hips back onto him while his cock fully slid into the depths of her cunt. She yelped in pain, but made no attempt to pull away. They both tried to relax while coupled, and the pain quickly subsided to a tolerable level, being replaced with an intensely marvelous feeling for the first time in her life.

Martha awoke to her daughter's cry of pain, and autonomically responded, "children, no fighting, now go back to sleep," as she dozed off again in her room.

This made the lovers break out in giggles for a moment to realize the seriousness of their situation. 

The calming union of their motionless organs fully soaking together further eased the pain of devirgination for Naomi to ask, "now that I am one of your conquests, and a woman, and the discomfort is slight, lets continue. I want to feel your happiness when you cum into the depths of my pussy after I explore my femininity to completeness." 

"I am thrilled that you are my first lover, uh uh, sharing this experience with me Richard." 

"That's it move inside me, Oh God, your cock is so long I can feel it enter another deeper pussy inside me, Richard, I can feel your cock's head inside my womb! Oh. How utterly delicious!" 

"I never dreamed how wonderful this would feel. Oh ooo, please fuck me! Don't stop, mmm, until you spray your seeds into me!" 

"Ohh! If I happen to cum before you just remember, you must cum into mmm - me so that I know I have totally pleasured you. Uh, uh OOO, this feels so good. This is life!" As she listened to the musical rhythm of their organs sloshing together in the quiet stillness of the night, enjoying the fact that the motion of their bodies are totally synchronized, moving together as if they are one creature, yet each one seeking personal gratification.

"Sis, I am getting close. (Soft grunted huh uh), There, I am rubbing your clit with my fingers to speed your orgasm and how does it feel?" Richard panted out.

"I can't stop fucking you Richard, I am shaking all over, Oh, and my cunt has wonderful feelings while undulating on your cock, Oh God! I am cumming, uh, like never before!" 

"This is fantastic oooh, keep pumping me - and add your sperm onto my cum. Aiee!"

"God, you are a wonderful bitch in heat, Ohh, I can feel your cunt muscles wildly milking my cock, Oh, uh shit," as Richard felt his sperm rush from his testicles to squirt directly into a source of life, his very own sisters womb! 

"Richard, Ah, I can feel the heat of your sperm gushing into me! That's it lover, empty yourself into me; I want to feel you satisfied. Oh God, it makes me so happy going all the way with you. I love you my brother." Naomi blurted out between breathes while starting to calm down from her great excitement. 

Two more spasms of ejaculation occurred before the emptiness of completion was upon the Brave. Finally, a great calming peace befell both the lovers, still together in carnal coupling. Her happy cunt filled with his sperm, and his testicles drenched in her juices.

Upon separating, Richard weakly lays upon his back, his receding cock showing streaks of his sister's blood, proving that her womanhood is fully accomplished. Naomi energetically washes off droplets of sperm, blood and cum clinging to her pussy, pubic hair, and her brother's cock, while spinning the thoughts of what they just did over and over in her mind, while being totally thrilled with life and nature! 

"For the man that I love and I to cum together, is the most beautiful thing in life, just as Mother said!"

"Now that I have fully experienced your cock, I just realized how long and skinny it is. When we lay together as children snuggling, and you moved your cock against my pussy until we both were happily thrilled, clinging to each other in excited bliss, why didn't you just push it into me then, and save me all this anguish?" 

"It is a tribal custom Naomi. We males are taught that there are enough hungry women in the tribe for us to relieve ourselves, and that we should not violate young girls, until they are of age. Fooling around however, to make young girls happy and contented, is acceptable, whereas taking full advantage of their ignorance is abusive."

"Then, when you were "fooling around" with Mom, snuggling her like you were often doing with me, like rubbing my cunt in the middle of the night; you were really fucking Mom instead, weren't you? That explains her soft moaning, and then the bullshit of her saying she was dreaming of Chief Thundercloud when she was so happy in the mornings afterward."

"Well, now you know, welcome to the family Naomi!!" 

He then pulled her into his arms, his softened cock brushing against her squishy contented cunt, and started kissing her 'dancing with tongues', until his prick started responding against her stiffening nub – where he broke away and said, "lets get some sleep now. You're way too sore to continue. I feel your tears upon me."

"I love you Richard, and those are tears of happiness. Thank you for your consideration. I am now here for you any time you need me – just honor my unsafe time, that is, until I am a married woman." Naomi said, with a funny smirk upon her face! 



Help Wanted: Young Male Assistant



Note to the readers: My wife wrote the first few passages of this as my present for Christmas 2013, very much surprising me since she has not told me a story in years. Then she gave me poetic license so to speak. After all, this was a present for me. She wanted me to get excited about writing again. And it seems to have worked, at least for the time being. 

Maybe everyone will be able to tell where she leaves off and I begin... But either way, I certainly hope others enjoy this present as much as I did. - VonHauffen





Help Wanted: Young Male Assistant



"Vente Caramel Macchiato: skim, double espresso twice a week. Kayanza, Black: one cream, one sugar the other days. You may surprise me with one of those coconut things at your discretion." I rattle this all through the door, feeling him watching me as I move across the opening deliberately, and it causes my cheeks to burn. 

"I arrive at the office at eight sharp. I will expect my schedule and all pertinent files and contacts laid out with the computers and office ready for my arrival. I am at the Club from six to seven-fifteen every morning without fail. Once you are up to speed you may join me... but you should be prepared to discuss the upcoming day. If you aren't, then don't bother. Topics relating to the industry are always welcome. I prefer to be the first to know - about everything. 

"Occasionally... perhaps even often," I continue, still moving about the bathroom in complete undress, "I will require other ways to get my heart racing in the morning. I expect you to be available at a moment's notice. I will review your wardrobe in the coming days and what I approve can go in the spare closet so that you always have clothes here... anything else I will provide as needed through my company and various contacts.

"On a side note... I despise the feel of latex, so I expect you to maintain absolute vigilance and discretion should you find the opportunity to sleep... elsewhere. There will be no surprises from me, I can guarantee you, so I expect none from you. Fraternization with clients, models, etcetera is all perfectly acceptable, especially if it benefits the company, but I expect you to always follow my rules... Is that clear? I haven't heard any note-taking in there." I glance around the door to catch him peering at me in the mirror with a sparkling gleam to his eyes. 

Let him look. That's why it's there.

"Crystal clear, Ms. Boshaunt. Crystal." 

"Good. The other staff stagger into the office around nine, but I expect absolute promptness from you. You will also be aware of everyone else's duties and project timetables at all times. Everyone reports directly to me and while I expect to make every decision, I also expect you to be able to do the same in my absence. You will have access to everything starting tomorrow. Genevieve can have you until noon to show you what you need. After that... you're mine."

I step out of the room with my hair down and nothing on but my glasses and my little satin robe. I pay him no mind as I lean down to talk to the babies one by one, settling them in for the night. I know he can see my leg bared all the way to the hip - perhaps more. It matters not. He will be privy to the rest of me soon enough. 

He climbs to his feet as I stand up and I tilt my head to consider him for the briefest of moments. Should I, or shouldn't I? Hmm, I'll leave it up to him.

"There are only a few hours left tonight and I expect this will be your last moment of peace, what with Paris coming up in three weeks. You probably should get one last night of rest and think over everything we have discussed so far. If I see you in the morning, I'll know your answer."

"You said probably. That implies there is at least one other option?" He drains the rest of our shared tonic and starts gathering things from the table, as if he is only half listening to me. 

Not quite sure I like that.

"Very astute of you," I respond rather snidely. "Alternatively, you can stay the night, short as it is, and... convince me as to why I shouldn't keep my options open and meet with Candidate Number Two tomorrow like I planned."

I am smiling inwardly, preparing for him to turn around with that adorable grin and then take me to my bed to do just that: convince me all night long. Wake the neighbors, make me scream and sweat and pant and forget about it all. Worship me from head to toe with every inch of his strong young body instead of his delectable mouth this time. 

Hell, I can see how positively hard he is when he reaches down and picks up my discarded stockings and carries them to where I stand with folded arms; my nipples bursting against the thin fabric of my robe; my painted toes digging into the lush carpet tensely as I arch toward him ever so slightly. He smiles just as I expected and leans close enough for me to smell the scent of myself on his lips.

"Actually, I have to agree. I'll need to keep my wits about me, since I'll definitely be there in the morning. Got a few loose ends to tie up at home since you plan on occupying my entire world now... you know: clean out the fridge, feed the fish, that sort of thing..." He caught the momentary flash of confusion and then fury move across my face before I had the chance to compose myself. But again, it didn't phase him in the least! Just glanced to my lips as if he were about to take my breath away like before, only this time he didn't. "Plus, you've made quite a reputation for yourself always making the right decision the first time, Ms. Boshaunt... so, 'Candidate Number Two' doesn't really concern me."

He leaned down and scratched the pups' ears and tummies in turn, before handing me my stockings and heading for the door. I found myself following him in a daze, not quite sure what had just happened, but very intrigued by this fascinating if not exasperating younger man. 

He gathered the rest of his things and showed me where he'd left my keys before standing at the front door. He turned abruptly and held out his hand, but when I firmly shook it he pulled me in and kissed me on the corner of my mouth, lingering there for a few moments and inhaling deeply. 

I made a display of scrutinizing him closely before showing him onto the porch. "Then in that case, you can take until ten. Use the time wisely," I said over my shoulder, practically slamming the door.





Help Wanted: Young Male Assistant



At last, I couldn't keep my eyes from rolling upwards as those powerful waves coursed through me again and made me cry out.

"Oh for the love of God... come!"

Three firm, deliberate lunges and on the fourth he burst inside me; the liquid fire flooded me as my taut body writhed and jerked beneath him. I could still feel him shuddering and groaning as I finally collapsed, utterly spent. With one last, deep lunge that made me gasp he went still, his heart pounding against my breasts and his breath hot against my ear.

I heard the dogs barking and the cats running, but I didn't care. All I could focus on was keeping him pulsing inside me while he nibbled on my ear.

It must be my analytical mind, but why as I savored the fullness and ache deep inside me did I see our bodies from afar with numbers racing through my head? Our skin glistening, limbs still tangling. Me a delightful forty-nine, him a virile twenty-three. Me forty-nine... him twenty-three. That made it twenty-six years... Twenty...six...years. Oh...God... I'm forty-nine ... and he's only twenty-three...

"Oh, fuck!" I cried and shook against him again; gripping him with arms and legs to keep him firmly inside me - as if to say, He must never get away!

This shockingly unexpected climax washed over me in wave upon wave that nearly brought tears to my eyes. He chewed on my lips and let my body pulse and throb and flutter around every last lovely inch of him. And when it was through I opened my lids lazily to see him watching me. That lovely adorable smile again. 

I rolled my eyes and turned my face to blush. Me of all people.

"What was that?" he asked teasingly, propping himself up a little, but still very much inside me.

"Hmpf." I nuzzled into him. "A bonus... Apparently."