My girlfriend and I had moved into our first flat about a year ago. A promotion for both of us at work led to an increase in money. To give us more free time, we decided to use some of our newfound wealth, hiring a cleaner once a week. I left the hiring to my HR department, my girlfriend Helen. We used the time saved for additional nights out and, more importantly, nights in.
I met the cleaner for the first time when I was working from home one week. She was called Zlata, an East European. She was about twenty-seven, dark-haired, five foot four inches. She had a cheeky smile, a pleasingly curvy figure, and she seemed to have a way with a duster and mop. She spoke reasonable English, and I chatted with her, although she cut our conversation short to get on with her cleaning. I saw her briefly before she left, her three hours of work having been finished.
Over the next few months, I saw her occasionally when her cleaning days clashed with my work at home days. One such day, she knocked on my door and asked, somewhat sheepishly, if it would be ok to have a shower after she finished as she had to go out immediately after work. I readily agreed and asked if she needed anything (I was thinking of helping wash her back).
Unfortunately, she didn’t need my help, and I returned to my desk, nursing a somewhat swollen member. She had, however, forgotten a towel and she called out from the bathroom door if she could borrow one. I grabbed a clean towel from the airing cupboard and offered it to her through the open bathroom door. It was open just enough to glance at her quite attractive body, including a nicely shaved pubic area.
Our occasional meetings continued to offer a little flirty promise for several weeks.
Meanwhile, my relationship with Helen worsened to a point when she left me and moved in with a girlfriend (shortly before she moved on to a new boyfriend). The breakup left me very depressed, lonely, and feeling very sorry for myself. I took a week off work, but that only served to deepen my depression. I was watching daytime TV when I heard the front door opening. Thinking it might be Helen returning, I jumped up, but of course, it wasn't. Instead, there stood Zlata, looking quite sultry. She got to work immediately in the bathroom. Ten or so minutes later, she reappeared, interrupting my viewing of an old episode of 'The Antiques Roadshow.'
"Where is Helen?" she said in her clipped accent.
I explained that we had parted and she had left the flat. That I was now alone and quite lonely. She offered her sympathies, but after a few more consoling words, she returned to her duties. I turned my attention, somewhat soberly, to the 'Roadshow'. A victorian bathing dish was the final item on the show, and as the well-known theme tune commenced, I went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. I knew Zlata liked her caffeine fix, so I made her a cup of dark and strong Columbian coffee. I was about to take it to her, when she appeared in the kitchen. She offered her thanks as she accepted her drink and leant on the back of a chair.
"You don't very happy sound," she said. "Maybe I help you."
I was intrigued and quite excited. But I wanted her to be a bit more specific.
"How do you mean?"
She continued, "You give me little tip each week, I help you be pleased when you find another girlfriend."
It wasn't the best English I'd heard, but I understood roughly what her proposal was.
"How will you please me?" I asked.
"I show you," she said.
With that, she moved towards me, still holding her coffee. She knelt in front of me, raised her hands to my belt, and unfastened it. Then my shorts, which she pulled down to my ankles. My boxers followed shortly behind. In contrast, my cock headed in the opposite direction. Zlata kept her eyes on my cock as it completed its trajectory. She raised her coffee to her mouth and took a large swig. She swallowed, first her mouthful of coffee, then my cock.
Helen hadn't been a fan of oral sex, and I hadn't had a decent blowjob for years. Therefore the feeling of entering Zlata's hot mouth was just sublime, in every respect. She was good. Licking, exploring the veins, ridges and contours of my cock, then taking me deep into her mouth.
I was in seventh heaven, but I wanted to enjoy it in comfort. I pulled her to her feet and led her to my bed. I lay down, my cock now vertical. I told her to take off her shirt, and she happily complied. Her breasts were supported by a large, functional bra. As she went down on me again, I reached around and unfastened it.
As the blow-job continued I caressed her breasts, running my finger around her nipples which were quickly becoming erect. She was taking me deep, just the way I liked it, and had found a pleasing rhythm. When she used her hand to fondle my bollocks and asshole, I came in a rush, ejecting a month's worth of my hot, salty sperm into her mouth, then her face and black hair. As my ejaculations subsided, she looked at me and smiled. With her fingers, she scooped up the cum, and transferred it to her mouth. She seemed to relish the taste and swallowed as much as she could get.