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Household Chores Ch. 01

By: SamScribble



I was 18 when I left home.

I had applied to art school. But, because the course was already oversubscribed, and I hadn't done art for my last three years at school, I didn't make the cut. The admissions officer suggested that I spend some time compiling a portfolio of work and that I apply again for the following year. And so, when I saw an advertisement for an 'art trainee' at a high-profile ad agency -- albeit one located in a city about 150 miles from where I lived -- I decided to put in an application.

I realised that it was a really long shot. But, on the other hand, nothing ventured nothing gained. And if I did by some chance get the job, it would be the perfect opportunity to get together a portfolio of work.

As I remember, it was just a couple of days later that I got a phone call inviting me to an interview with the agency's creative director. And then, a couple of days after I had been to have 'a cup of coffee and a bit of a chat', I got another call saying that the job was mine.

I remember being thrilled. And more than a little bit surprised. But my parents were more concerned than pleased. 'Where will you live?' my mother wanted to know.

Of course, I had no idea where I would live. I hadn't thought that far ahead. I hadn't even thought that I'd get the job, for goodness sake.

'You don't even know anyone there, do you?' my father said.

Did I know anyone there? I think I was about to concede that my father may have had a good point when I suddenly remembered that Leo had an older sister who lived somewhere in that direction. 'Well, there's Dawn,' I said.

'Who's Dawn?' my mother wanted to know.

'Leo's sister,' I said. 'She's married. Quite a bit older than Leo. I'm sure she can help me find somewhere to live.'

I hadn't actually met Dawn at that stage. But when Leo phoned her and explained that I was moving north and might need some help finding somewhere to live, she said that it wasn't a problem: I could stay with her and her husband for a few days, and they'd help me find somewhere.

And so, a couple of weeks later, I found myself 150 miles from home, knocking on the door of a neat-and-tidy townhouse tucked away down the end of a long driveway.

When Dawn answered the door, I could tell immediately that she was Leo's sister -- although she must have been almost 20 years older than Leo. At the time, Leo was about 20; so I guess Dawn must have been close to 40.

'You'll have the place to yourself for the next couple of days,' she said. 'I hope that's OK. Howard is away on a course and I have an overnighter.' (Leo had already told me that Dawn was a Cabin Services Director for an airline.) 'I'll be back Wednesday afternoon though.'

I remember spending most of the next couple of days exploring the neighbourhood, getting my bearings, trying to work out where I might want to live. Within a 15-minute walk of Dawn's place there was good little shopping centre with a small supermarket and all the usual service stores. The shopping centre was also on a bus route that went right into the centre of the city. Yeah, I thought, if I could find somewhere to live in that area it would be just about perfect.

'So ... worked out where you want to live?' Dawn asked when she got back.

'Well, somewhere around here would be good,' I said.

Dawn looked at me with a sort of a frown -- as though she was trying to remember something or decide something. 'Hmm,' she said, eventually. 'Let me just make a phone call.'

I remember her going off into the kitchen to make the call. I didn't really get to hear what she said, but when she came back she seemed pretty happy about something.

'Are you ready?' she said, grabbing her car keys.

Was I? I wasn't even sure what it was that I was supposed to be ready for. Still, I grabbed my jacket and followed her out to the car. And maybe five minutes later we were pulling up outside number 37 Forrest Place.

On the way over, Dawn had sort of explained that we were going to look at a flat that was attached to the home of her friend Diana. 'It's quite small,' she said. 'But see what you think.'

Diana was waiting for us. 'Come and have a look,' she said, and she led us down a path at the side of the house.

Diana was slightly older than Dawn -- I guess about 50. But she was a very tidy 50.

The flat was also very tidy. Yes, it was small -- a sort of a living room with a kitchen at one end, a bedroom that looked out onto a garden, and a bathroom -- but it looked just fine.

'What do you think?' I remember Diana asking.

I told her that it looked just fine to me.

I remember her looking me up and down. 'Can you mow lawns?' she asked.

I told her that I could.

'And cars? Can you clean cars?'

Again, I assured her that I could.

'Right,' she said. 'If you agree to mow the lawn and keep my car clean -- and do a few other little chores about the house -- you can live here rent-free.'

'Really?' I said. 'Gee, I don't know what to say.'

I remember her stepping forward and giving me a little hug and a kiss on the cheek. 'Welcome to 37B Forrest Place,' she said.

As we drove back to Dawn's place to pick up my stuff, I remember her saying: 'Now you're sure you're OK with that arrangement?'

'Well, it didn't look like a particularly big lawn,' I told her. 'And even a really big car can't take more than an hour or so to clean.'

'And a few other little chores around the house too,' she reminded me.

'Yeah. I'm cool with that,' I said.

My first 'little chore' was on the following Saturday. I had woken quite early and I was just about to make myself a cup of tea when Diana arrived. She looked as though she had just got out of bed. Her hair was all tousled and she was a wearing a nightgown which, while not exactly transparent, certainly left little to the imagination.

'I've been thinking about my sitting room,' she said. 'I think it would work better with a different layout. I need you to come and help me move some furniture.'

'OK,' I said. 'I'll just get dressed and I'll be right over.'

'Oh, don't bother about getting dressed,' she said. 'You'll be fine as you are. It's not as if we're going down the street or anything.'

And so, for the next half an hour or so, Diana and I -- she in her diaphanous nightgown, me in a pair of pyjama pants -- moved furniture. Although I tried to keep my eyes discreetly averted, each time Diana leaned forward the scooped neck of her nightgown gaped open and offered a tantalising view of her womanly breasts and beyond. And then, after each piece of furniture was moved into its new position, she went and stood with her back to the French doors to survey the new arrangement. The morning sunlight flooding through the glass turned her into a very shapely silhouette indeed and I found it hard to concentrate on the job at hand. In fact, concentration was not the only thing that was becoming hard.

Eventually, Diana decided that we had the room arranged in the way in which she wanted it. 'Right,' she said. 'Time for coffee, I think.' I remember saying that I really should go and get dressed. But Diana would have none of it. 'There'll be plenty of time to get dressed later,' she said.

As Diana heated the water and ground the coffee beans, she kept glancing over at me and ... well ... looking me up and down, I suppose.

'You're a very good looking young man,' she said as she poured the water onto the ground coffee.

'Don't know about that,' I replied.

'Well, I do,' she said. 'Do you have a girlfriend?'

I told her that I didn't. 'Well ... not really.'

'You surprise me,' she said. And then she added: 'So I suppose masturbation is your main means of relief.' It wasn't really a question. It was more of a statement. But she still seemed to need some sort of an answer. 'So, how often do you masturbate?' she asked. 'You know ... just roughly.'

I think I muttered something like 'just now and then'.

'And what does "just now and then" mean?' she asked. 'Twice a day? Three times a day? More than that?'

'Sort of depends,' I told her.

She nodded. 'You know, when I was younger, I used to get myself off two or three times a day. But, these days, it's more likely to be just once.' She seemed a little saddened by the diminished frequency of her autoerotic events. 'And today?' she said. 'Have you tugged your todger today?'

I told that I hadn't.

'No. Me neither,' she said. 'Perhaps we could have a bit of a mutual masturbation session. I realise that I'm no longer the pinup girl that I once was, but I don't think you'll find my body too unattractive.'

'Not unattractive at all,' I assured her.

'Well, there you are,' she said. 'We can have the coffee later. Right now I think we should go through to the bedroom.'

I remember waiting for her to say: No, it's OK, I'm only kidding. But instead, she took my hand and led the way to her bedroom.

'I'll just need to grab a towel,' she said. 'I'm afraid I'm a bit of a gusher. You can sit in that chair ... and I'll position myself on the edge of the bed. That way, I can watch you and you can watch me.'

I sat down in the chair -- my head spinning -- and waited while she went and got a towel.

'Right,' she said, as she placed the towel on the edge of the bed, hoisted her nightgown up around her waist, positioned herself opposite me, and spread her shapely thighs. 'So ... what do you think?' she asked as she began to gently rub her already-wet pussy.

It was the first time I had actually seen a proper grow woman playing with herself. I had, of course, seen pictures in magazines and on the internet. But that was the first time I had ever seen a real-life woman. So what did I think? I thought it was fantastic. I thought she was fantastic. I thought the whole thing was incredibly erotic. I also thought that if I wasn't careful, my own wank was going to be all over in just a couple of quick strokes.

'Are you going to get those pants off?' she asked. 'Or do you need some help? I want a ringside view of you stroking your cock. Despite what you may have read, we women are not averse to a bit of visual stimulation.'

I slid my pyjama pants down, letting my twitching cock stand proud.

'Yes, that's better,' Diana said. 'That's much better.'

I remember thinking that if I didn't actually look at her fur-fringed cunt I might be able to last a bit longer. I tried to keep my eyes on her face, but even that now seemed incredibly sexy. Eventually, after two or three minutes, I decided to just 'go for it'.

I can't really remember what happened next. One moment I was looking at Diana's cunt and pumping my cock for all it was worth ... and the next moment Diana was on her knees in front of me, my cock spurting cum into her waiting mouth.

'Sorry about that,' I said once I had managed to catch my breath. 'I couldn't hold on any longer.'

'Don't be sorry,' she said. 'I'm honoured to have played a part. And I'm sure we can soon get you up again.'

Actually, I don't recall going completely 'down' anyway. And, by the time Diana had licked and sucked and sucked and licked for another three or four minutes, I was ready to go again.

'See,' she said. 'Right ... where were we?' And she returned to her perch on the edge of the bed and resumed her ministrations.

I too went back to stroking my cock -- although only gently this time. After unloading the first time, it was still a bit sensitive.

'I don't suppose you'd like to be a good boy and lick my clit,' she said after a few minutes.

Well, it was going to be another first for me. But I was more than happy to give it a go. I got down on my knees and began to explore her open cunt with my tongue.

'Just a little higher,' she said. And then: 'Oh, god, yes, perfect!'

For the next few minutes, Diana lay back on the bed, her thighs spread, her knees raised, with me lapping away at her warm, juicy slit. And, as I became more confident in my work, Diana began to squirm and moan. 'Oh, yes!' she said. 'Oh, fucking yes!'

And then she came -- and came -- and came again -- squirting me with her juices.

With my eyes fixed on her now pink and saturated cunt, I too came again -- this time spraying my cum over her delicious slightly-rounded tummy.

For a few minutes, neither of us said anything. Diana lay back on the bed; I sat on the bed beside her; both of us lost in our own thoughts.

Eventually, Diana turned her head towards the bedside clock. 'How's that?' she said. 'Just 9:30 and we've already got some of the day's most important chores done.' And then she added: 'Of course we may be able to tackle a few more chores -- this evening -- after supper -- you know, if you're feeling up to it.'

Household Chores Ch. 02



Diana threw out the coffee that she had made earlier -- before we had embarked on our mutual masturbation session -- and made a fresh pot. 'Would you like some toast or something with that?' she asked.

I told her that I was fine. 'But thanks anyway.'

We drank our coffee while sitting out on the little terrace beyond the sitting room's French doors. Diana kept glancing back into the room, assessing the new furniture layout. 'Yes, I think that's much better,' she said after the third or fourth glance. 'We've done good work this morning, Jamie. I don't know about you, but I'm feeling quite ... well ... satisfied, I suppose.' And she smiled knowingly.

I know that I, too, should have felt satisfied. But when I went back to the flat and had a shower before getting dressed, I still couldn't resist soaping up my cock and having another quick wank while thinking about Diana and wondering how it would feel to have my hard cock in her pudgy pink pussy.

The following Monday, I started my new job. And by midday Monday I had reached the conclusion that 'art trainee' was just another way of saying 'personal slave of one of the senior art directors'. By Thursday I had also worked out that 14-hour days were just the norm. Still, everyone has to start somewhere. 

Happily, on the Friday my 'slave master' -- Bucky -- had some lunch or something to go to. 'I probably won't be back today,' he said. 'You may as well go home early.' And so I did.

On the way home, I stopped off at the supermarket and grabbed a few groceries. But, even allowing for this little detour, I was still home by three. I put away the groceries, changed into a pair of shorts, and went out to the garage to investigate Diana's lawn-mowing equipment. 

At my parents' place, I'd been used to a petrol-powered lawn mower -- a trusty Briggs & Stratton or Johnson Iron Horse. But Diana had one of the electric mowers that seemed to be all the rage at the time. It took me a moment or two the get the hell of it. Apart from anything else, I was wary of the possibility of running over the power cable. But, in the end, I managed to turn the slightly-overgrown patch of grass into an (almost) immaculate lawn.

I was sitting out on the garden bench, admiring my work and enjoying a long glass of cold lemonade, when Diana called out.

'Oh, there you are,' she said. 'The lawn looks great, by the way. You've done a really nice job.'

'Thanks,' I said.

'I don't know if you have any plans for this evening,' Diana said, 'but I'm going to make paella. I take it that you like paella?'

I don't think I'd ever had paella at that point in my life, so I had no idea whether I liked it or not. I wasn't even that sure what it was. But I nodded anyway. Whatever it was, it trumped having to make my own supper.

'Good,' she said. 'Come over about 6:30. Oh ... and Dawn's coming too.'

When I arrived next door at Diana's place, she had a big pan on the stovetop and she was cooking pieces of chicken with chopped red onions and garlic. As we chatted, she gradually added some red powdery stuff (which I later discovered was smoked paprika) and some rice, and stirred it all about for three or four minutes before adding chopped tomatoes and various herbs. 'Right. That now has to cook for about ten or 15 minutes,' she said.

While the chicken and rice mixture was cooking, Diana produced a bottle of wine and three glasses. 'I take it you'll have a glass of wine,' she said. 'It's a pinot gris.'

Again, I hadn't really had a lot of wine at that stage of my life. My parents weren't really drinkers. But I thought, yeah, why not? I was about to try paella, so why not add pinot gris to the list? 'Thanks,' I said, doing my best to sound suave and assured.

It was at about that point that Dawn arrived. She was looking great -- no, make that fantastic. I don't know if it was what she was wearing (a knee-length floral skirt and a plain navy silk blouse), or maybe the fact that she seemed to have been out in the sun, but she just looked great. Diana greeted her with a kiss -- not on the cheek, but right on her lips. 'How are you, darling?' she asked.

Dawn said that she was really good -- and even better since Howard had decided to go fishing for the weekend. 'And I'm really looking forward to your paella.'

'And how are you, Jamie?' she said. 'Settling in?'

I told her that I was, and that I was starting to get to know my way around town, and that work was starting to make sense, and ... well, a whole lot of other stuff. Although, of course, I didn't tell her about the mutual masturbation session that Diana and I had had -- or how I had had at least one great wank every day since, just thinking about my landlady and her pudgy pink pussy.

While Dawn and I chatted, Diana added seafood and broad beans to the paella and then set the table for three. 'Twenty minutes and counting,' she said. I remember that the aromas wafting from the gently simmering paella had my taste buds tingling. And I was also starting to get a bit of a buzz from the wine. But then -- before the wine had done too much damage to my equilibrium -- we were eating.

After three or four mouthfuls, I decided that Diana's paella was just about the best thing that I had ever tasted. Or maybe I was just in the mood. After all, there I was, away from home for the first time, drinking exotic wine and eating exotic food with two very attractive older women. It was almost better than sex. Mind you, the moment I started to think that, I got to thinking about Diana sitting on the edge of her bed, with her nightgown pulled up around her waist, strumming away on her glistening pink pussy. I wondered if maybe we would get to do it all again. Maybe even that night? After Dawn had gone home?

'So what do you think of the new layout in the sitting room?' Diana asked Dawn. 

'I like it. I like it very much,' Dawn said.

'Yes. It works, doesn't it? Jamie helped me -- didn't you, Jamie?'

I remember kind of nodding.

'In fact you helped me quite a bit on Saturday morning, didn't you?' Diana said. 

I think I just nodded again. It was probably the wine, but I could feel myself getting a bit hot and flustered. I'm sure my cheeks must have been getting a bit red.

'It's nice to have a good-looking young man to help out about the house -- you know, for a bit of variety.' And Diana winked across the table at Dawn.

'Do you think Jamie might help me as well?' Dawn asked.

'Oh, yes, I think so,' Diana said. 'You could give Dawn a helping hand, couldn't you, Jamie?'

'Of course,' I said. 'If you have any little chores that need doing ... you know ... just ask.'

Dawn and Diana both smiled and nodded -- a little conspiratorially, I thought. 'Thank you,' Dawn said. 'Yes, I'm sure that I can find something you could help with.'

To follow the paella, Diana had made little individual orange flans. They too were delicious. Even after the paella, I managed to eat two of them.

'Why don't we move through to the sitting room,' Diana suggested when we had finished eating. 'I'll get some more wine.' And then, as she joined us in the sitting room with the second bottle of wine, she turned to Dawn and asked her if her shopping trip had been successful.

I remember Dawn's eyes lighting up. 'Very successful,' she said. 'What do you think?' And she raised her skirt to show us her (presumably new) red satin-and-lace knickers.

'Very nice,' Diana said. 'Very, um, sexy. And is there a matching bra?'

'Oh, yes,' Dawn replied. And she began unbuttoning her blouse to show us her red satin-and-lace bra. One button. Two buttons. Three buttons. And she didn't stop there. Soon her blouse was draped -- elegantly -- across the back of one of the chairs. And then the skirt came off too. 'What do you think, Jamie?' she asked.

I thought that she looked fucking fantastic -- but I couldn't really say that. So I just said something like 'Very nice'.

'This satin is so smooth,' she said, gently caressing the satin panels that were supporting the underside of her breasts. 'Come and feel.' Dawn was looking at me when she said this, but I remember being sort of glued to my chair. 'Come on,' she said. 'Don't be shy. Come and run your fingers over this nice ... smooth ... satiny fabric.'

I got up and took a couple of steps towards her.

'Here,' she said, and she took my hand and placed it on her bra-clad breast. 'Doesn't that feel good?'

It certainly did. It felt fucking fantastic -- smooth and warm and slippery. And her breast felt firm and yet slightly soft.

'Do you like my new bra?' she asked.

I nodded.

'Yes, I thought you would,' she said. 'And this bit here? I think you'll like this bit.' And she moved my hand down to the satin panel that covered her tummy and disappeared between the tops of her well-toned thighs. 'Doesn't that feel ... well ... sexy?' 

It sure did. I could feel my cock beginning to struggle in the confines of my jeans. And it seems that this did not escape Dawn's attention. Nor Diana's for that matter.

'Jamie would appear to be pleased to see you,' Diana said. 'Maybe you should help him out of those jeans.'

Dawn smiled. 'Good idea,' she said. And she slowly undid my belt and then lowered the zip of my jeans. 'Hmm, I think these need to go altogether,' she said.

'And those briefs too,' Diana suggested.

There was no point in me fighting it. Apart from anything else, they out-numbered me. So I kicked off my shoes and allowed Dawn to remove my lower garments. I was then left with just my T-shirt -- and a rampant cock pointing up towards the ceiling. (Ah, those were the days.)

'Very nice,' Dawn said. 'Very nice indeed.' And then, turning towards Diana, she said 'Your description was spot on. I am not disappointed.'

'I doubted that you would be,' Diana said, and then she quietly left the room. When she returned, a few minutes later, she too had stripped down to her coffee-coloured bra and knickers. And she was carrying a large towel and a few bits and pieces. In the meantime, Dawn had gently removed my hand from the outside of her knickers and had slipped it down inside them, past the neatly-trimmed patch of soft girly hair, and on to the smooth lips of her warm moist pussy. And, while I tentatively explored this exquisite treasure, she expertly fondled my throbbing cock.

After a few minutes of this positively delightful carnal activity, I suddenly became aware of a low-pitched buzzing sound. Diana had spread the towel out on the couch and was sitting, with her legs spread, massaging her own satin-clad pussy with a large vibrating dildo.

'Good?' Dawn asked.

'Mmm. Very,' Diana assured her.

'Right. Well I think you two have now had quite long enough to admire my new knickers,' Dawn said huskily, and she slowly, sexily, wriggled out of them and let them fall to the floor. 'I think I'm ready for some cock now.'

Dawn took me by the hand and led me over to the couch where she leaned forward, resting her hands on the padded arm rest, and presenting her beautiful arse towards me. And what a beautiful arse. Wide and womanly, but firm, with a clear valley between her two shapely globes. 

'Here, let me help there,' Diana said.

Diana's 'help' began with her licking her fingers and then trailing them, gently, along the length of Dawn's crack, starting at the top, running down along the valley, pausing -- just briefly -- at Dawn's cute pink rosebud, and then continuing on and finally burying two fingers deep into Dawn's waiting cunt. Dawn gave out a little moan and pushed back against Diana's hand. 'You like that, don't you, you dirty girl?' Diana said. And then, with her fingers now covered in Dawn's pussy juice, she did it all again -- except this time she allowed her fingers to circle Dawn's rosebud several time before continuing on. 'You like having your arsehole played with, don't you?' she said. And Dawn gave out another little moan.

After a minute or so of Diana's ministrations, Dawn turned and looked over her shoulder at me. 'Are you ready?'

Was I ever? I was beyond ready. If I had to watch and wait much longer I was going to be coming all by myself.

'Yes, I think he's ready, darling,' Dawn said. 

Taking my cock in one hand, Diana used the fingers of her other hand to carefully spread Dawn's smooth sweet lips. Slowly, gently, she lined up the head of my cock with the glistening entrance to Dawn's cunt. I tried to pause, but it was no good. Almost the moment my cock touched her entrance, Dawn thrust her hips backwards, towards me, so that her cunt completely engulfed my cock. 'Oh, yes!' she said. 'Oh, fucking yes! That feels so good.'

For maybe a couple of minutes, I vigorously thrust my cock in and out of Dawn's cunt -- while she frantically fingered her clit and Diana played with her arsehole and told her what a dirty girl she was, what a horny girl she was, what a horny fuckslut she was.

And then I knew I couldn't hold on any longer. 'Oh ... god ... I'm going to ... come,' I grunted.

'Oh, yes,' Dawn said. 'Oh, yes. Let me feel your hot cum filling my hungry cunt.'

And so I did.

'And now I think I should have a turn,' Diana said. Whether she meant it was now her turn with me or her turn with Dawn, I wasn't too sure. Well, not at that stage. But I was about to find out.