Bryan had lived in this apartment for 5 years. Between half-washed crayon stains on the walls and dog stains on the couches, it was time for a fresh look. His mother-in-law had invited them to stay the weekend, and he figured it would be the perfect time to repaint the apartment. The last thing he wanted was his kid inhaling paint all weekend. His wife got to see her parents, and he would have a relaxing weekend at home. Getting things done and the additional time to himself wouldn't be bad.

Saturday had gone without a hitch. With no distractions around, he was almost finished with the two bedrooms, and it was only 5 PM.

As he was ripping the masking tape off his bedroom door, he heard a knock on the door.

He opened slowly; he wasn’t expecting any packages.

It was Maia, his downstairs neighbor. She and her partner had moved in a few years ago and seemed like a nice enough couple, probably a few years younger than them. They’d run into each other a few times in the elevator. Polite smiles, good mornings, and wishes to have a great day. She was always extremely friendly, and especially when it was just the two of them, but he reminded himself she was probably just being nice.

She was particularly effusive when he was in the elevator with his dog. "Oh! He is such a good boy!" she would exclaim while petting his head. "If you ever need someone to watch him, please let me know. I would love to have him over!" she would add.

He would politely nod and smile.

This time, as he opened the door, she did not seem as happy.

“Hey, is there a water leak in here? There is a ton of water coming through the ceiling in my apartment.”

“Oh shoot!” he ran to the guest bathroom. He’d forgotten to shut the water off, which was now overflowing from the tub.

He looked back to see her standing right next to him.

“Hmmm, well, that would explain all the water in my apartment.”

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot. I was filling the tub to clean the rags but was so focused on the paint.”

“I think there’s a lot of damage downstairs," she interrupted.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll call my renters insurance, and I’m sure they will take care of everything, but I am so sorry; I know it’s gonna be a pain.”

“Yeah, and the biggest problem is that my bathroom is a mess right now.”

“I'm sorry, I can go down now and help you clean up.”

"I'll take you up on that. I really don't want to have to spend all evening cleaning."

He followed her down to her apartment. It had a near-identical layout to his. The water was dripping through the ceiling and down the walls.

“Oh, yeah, that wall is gonna have to be repainted, and the paint on the ceiling will have to be completely redone. Good thing you were home. I'm so sorry again,” he added.

“Yeah, I’m glad I was home,” she said, leaning one arm up against the door frame, then added, “You have the paint already. Want to just take care of this for me right now?”

“Well, you will have to wait until it dries,” he replied.

“Right. It’s much too wet right now," she said, smiling.

He stared at her, not sure what to say.

“By the way, where are your wife and kid?” she added.

“Oh, Lana took Jean to her mom’s house. I didn't want them breathing paint fumes all weekend.”

“Oh, I see. Well, Brock is out of town as well, and I was about to have dinner myself. Want to join me?”

His heart rate shot up. Then he thought to himself, “Don’t be an idiot; she’s just a friendly neighbor who is also married.”

“Hmm, sure… I mean… yeah, why not, sure. I was gonna eat leftovers anyway. But I’m covered in paint; let me go upstairs and change really quick,” he replied.

“No need to change, don’t worry. But if you really want, you can borrow some of Brock's pants,” she said, trailing off.

He paused. “Oh no, it’s OK. Just don’t want to get any paint on your furniture.”

“You can get whatever you want on my furniture,” she said, laughing.

He felt the blood rush to his cock, and a shot of adrenaline rush through his body.

“Wait, what did she just say?” he thought to himself. He was sure she meant something else.

She looked at him as he stood there looking like a deer in headlights.

“Oh, I’m just teasing you!”

“Ha, of course. Sorry, it’s been a long day painting. Maybe the fumes are getting to me," he said as she walked over to the kitchen.

She began opening one of the cabinets to pull out plates.

He followed her. "How can I help with the dinner?”

"I think it's all set. I just need to plate it. Hmmm, actually, why don’t you grab a bottle of wine from the pantry in the back of the kitchen?"

"Oh, no need for wine and all that," he hesitated.

"Oh come on, don't be silly, are you gonna leave me drinking all by myself? Plus, I think you've earned a little celebratory glass after all the hard work you've done."

"OK, fine, I'll have one glass," he said as he slowly made his way to the back of the kitchen.

"The bottle opener is in that cabinet," she signaled with her elbow as she served the meat stew on a dish.

"This Syrah OK?"

"Yeah, take whichever one looks good to you," she replied.

"Glasses are up top."

"Ha, same as in my apartment."

While she took the food to the dining room table, he opened the bottle and served two glasses. He noticed his hand shaking while pouring.

He walked the glasses over to the dining room and put them down, then he went back and grabbed the bottle.

"It's just a simple meat stew; I hope you like it."

"I'm sure it's great; it smells delicious," he said politely.

"Cheers!" she said, lifting up her glass.

They cheered and took a sip.

“Oh, I forgot to get napkins!” she said as she stood up quickly. She made an exaggerated gesture with her hand, which knocked the bottle of wine down.

He tried to jump back, but it was too late. There was red wine all over the table, his pants, and splattered on his shirt as well.

"Oh my god, I'm so clumsy! I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed.

He let out a nervous laugh. "Well, these pants and shirt were already ruined from the paint anyway, so it's no big deal, really."

"It is a big deal. I got wine all over you, and all over the floor! Here, come to the bathroom, I'll help you get cleaned up."

She grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom.

Like a zombie, he followed her without much protest.

"We are gonna have to get you all cleaned up!" she said, this time exaggerating the vowels.

“You know I’m married," he reminded her, mostly reminding himself.

She smiled. 
“I know, so am I. But here is the thing: it’s not cheating if I don’t touch you.”

His heart was racing.

She continued, “But you do have to help me with the clothes.”

He nervously but excitedly took off his shirt.

“It's mostly your pants that are a mess.”

His heart was in his throat, but she was calm and in control.

“Come on, big boy, I’m just helping you get clean,” she said as she gestured to his pants.

His mind said no, but his body was only answering her. He unbuckled his belt.

"It’s OK, I’m just helping you get clean so you don’t go back home so dirty."

Though it felt like swimming against a current, he continued moving forward. He slid his pants down, then took his socks off. Eventually he was standing only in his underwear.

She smiled, then she offered her hand. As he went to grab it, she pulled it out. "Oops, remember, we can't touch; wouldn't want to cheat."

She gestured for him to get in the tub. “Lay down, relax. Don’t worry, I won’t touch you.”

He stepped in.

"Sit down. You might as well get that underwear off. Don’t worry, I’m a nurse; it’s not like I’ve never seen a naked body before,” she said.

He obliged, taking his underwear off and sitting down in the tub. This was happening so fast, he was unsure if he was dreaming.

She grabbed the shower head. Then she turned the water on, feeling for the right temperature. He noticed her manicured nails grasp the handle.

She pointed the shower head at his feet. Then she began to move it slowly up to his thighs. At this point, his cock was standing straight up.

“This doesn’t seem like someone who doesn’t want to be here," she said, smiling.

His heart kept racing, but he hadn’t felt this alive in years.

“Maybe I’ll skip past this part,” she said as she moved the water up to his neck. Then she slowly moved it down to his chest, and continued down to his abs. Then she grabbed the shower gel and pumped some on his chest.

“Here, see, I'm just cleaning, not touching.”

Then with the shower head, she began to slowly wash the soap away. It wasn't doing much cleaning, but the smell and circular motions were hypnotizing. Slowly, she washed the soap away. Then she pointed the shower head to his left shoulder, down to his bicep, and his left forearm. Then she went back to his shoulder and, with the same controlled motion, began to rinse his right arm. The same hypnotic, relaxed motion. Warm shower water hitting his shoulders and then down to his biceps and down to his forearms.

"Oh my god, that feels so good," he said

"I'm glad you’re enjoying it, so am I,” she replied.

After a couple more rounds of moving the water everywhere but his cock, she said, “Turn around."

It was awkward, but it felt good to be on his stomach. She used the shower head to massage his back, buttocks, and thighs. When she was getting to his buttocks a second time, he lifted his hips a bit, and she knew what he wanted.

"How about you get on all fours?"

He obliged.

With the shower head, she slowly ran it from his lower back down to his ball sack.

"Oh fuck!" he moaned.

She began to repeat this motion. Slowly, but over and over again. From his lower back down to his hanging balls. He stayed on all fours, water teasing him. Over, and over again. From his back, down to his hanging balls. Then she did a circular motion with the shower water on his balls.

He wanted to beg her to touch him, but resisted.

She could tell. “Are you sure you don't want me to touch you? I mean, if I'm just helping you get clean, is it cheating? Wouldn’t want your wife to come back and find you all covered in wine.”

That mention made him angry but also turned him on even more.

“More!” he dared to exclaim.

“Quiet. I’m doing the cleaning here, OK?” she whispered.

He felt a tinge of shame.

She dropped the shower head and said, "Turn around, big boy."

He tried not to slip as his hands were shaking with adrenaline.

He lay back in the tub. He looked up and saw her topless. Her dark nipples shone in the light that shone through the window.

“I'm just a little hot from all this work," she said as she cupped her breasts and lifted them up.

Meanwhile, the water from the shower head kept shooting up and falling down on his stomach like a fountain.

"Maybe you can cool them down?” she said as she spat down on her left tit, and then on her right tit. She then proceeded to rub her nipples with the spit.

“Oh, now I’m getting all dirty. Too bad I don’t have anyone to help me get clean.”

He grabbed his head, trying not to think of what he was doing and trying to just be in the moment.

“Suit yourself, I’ll just keep playing with these girls by myself," she added as she pinched a nipple with each hand, while throwing her head back.

Then she slid one hand down her jeans and pulled it out, showing him her fingers.

"Look how wet I am. Too bad you can’t touch.”

He was hypnotized by her. He was dying to touch her, but he felt frozen in the tub.

“I’m getting so worked up I forgot I have a job to do,” she teased.

She leaned over and graced his side as she picked up the shower head. Her touch felt magical, but he felt like there was nothing he could do. She then began to go down from his chest slowly to his cock. His cock was pointing straight up toward his belly button.

This time, she did not go around it. She began to move the shower head back and forth from his balls to the tip of his cock. Slowly but rhythmically, from the tip of his cock, and down to his balls, over and over. He looked over at her and made eye contact; they both kept it. He wanted to cum, but it didn't feel like the water would be enough.

I can always help you with my hands. I saw you staring at my pretty nails.

“Ugh,” he moaned to himself.

To relieve some tension, he pinched his nipples, only to realize that turned him on even more. He began to feel like he was floating.

“Oh, naughty boy,” she said. “Are you copying me now?”

Then she grabbed the shower head and switched the setting.

The pressure was now one full smooth flow, not the countless small ropes of water.

"This ought to do it,” she said as she went back to stroking his cock with the flow of the water.

“Oh fuck!” he exclaimed.

"Hmmm, is it cheating if you cum though?”

“Huh?” he looked back at her.

Now he really felt it coming; he started arching his back, wanting more. Wanting more touch. He pinched his nipples harder.

He was about to cum. Then the water stopped. He saw a drop of cum come out, and felt his body recoil.

“I think we’re done here; you seem clean enough to me.” She said.

"Oh my god, what the fuck!” he exclaimed.

“Here's a towel,” she said, throwing a towel down to the tub. She turned around and began to put her shirt on.

He stood up, clutching the towel, his body still shaking and recoiling. He started drying himself, wondering what the fuck had just happened.