What was it about the house, and the couple who owned it, that made me so stupidly reckless? How could I have ever believed I wouldn't be caught?
Rick and Selena had hired me to clean for them on a weekly basis. At that time, they were among several clients I had. When Selena and I first spoke, she seemed skeptical that I could manage their large house alone, but I quickly proved myself capable of leaving the dwelling in pristine condition at the end of every Thursday afternoon.
And it wasn't as if they were messy. In their mid-forties, they had no children, and both worked long hours. Week after week, many areas in that house remained practically untouched: the dining room, the sitting room, the four guest rooms. Only the living room, kitchen, and the master bedroom and bath showed signs of being lived in.
Of course, everything still had to be polished and dusted, vacuumed and mopped. Bedding had to be washed, and the toilets needed scrubbing. As I went about these tasks, moving from one large, silent room to another, I grew to resent the excess of so much wasted space.
I was twenty-four and had no illusions that I would ever possess this kind of wealth. I earned just enough from cleaning houses to make rent, and that was with a roommate. No way could I afford an apartment on my own.
I tried not to be bitter. After all, Rick and Selena paid well, and I rarely saw them. Occasionally, Rick would work from his home office, and he was always cordial when we spoke.
"Hey there, Hollis," he would greet me with a friendly smile. "I promise to stay out of your way while you're working."
Selena, on the other hand, treated me as if I were a nuisance she had to tolerate for the sake of a spotless house.
Eventually, my contempt for her got the best of me. I felt no shame at snooping in her massive walk-in closet, or rummaging through her dresser drawers. I smirked while holding up her lingerie for close examination.
And in her nightstand, I found a wand vibrator. I'd always wanted one; my roommate swore it delivered spectacular orgasms. At first, I put the toy away, and I tried to put it out of my mind. But in the following weeks, I imagined how it would feel to hold the head of that vibe against my clit. I could spread out on the bed, my body draped over the unwashed sheets. It probably wouldn't take long for me to come.
Temptation gnawed at me every time I was in that house. While vacuuming the master bedroom on an otherwise mundane Thursday, I pictured the vibrator tucked away in the nightstand. Fantasizing about the fun I could have with it made me grow wet.
Seemingly on autopilot, I cut off the vacuum and went to retrieve the toy. My hands were shaking as I stripped out of my shorts and panties. Just seconds later, I was lying on Selena's side of the bed. I could smell her perfume clinging to the sheets.
The vibrator was cordless, enabling me to effortlessly position it between my parted thighs. I started with the lowest speed, gasping at the surge of pleasure the vibration sent straight to my core.
"Oh, fuck yes!" I groaned. My clit steadily grew more sensitive, responding to the intense stimulation. Soon, my hips were rocking, and I felt a fierce throbbing deep within my pussy. This toy had me so turned on that I was desperate for a cock!
That line of thought made me picture Rick. Old enough to be my father, he was one of those lean men with angular features. No matter what he ate, or how much he aged, he would stay strikingly thin. His hair was dark and fine, receding slightly. He wore reading glasses while working at his desk, but behind them, his eyes were a rich hazel.
I also thought of Selena, with her blonde hair styled in a chic, asymmetrical bob. The suits she wore accentuated her lithe frame. In her presence, I always felt unkempt. My long brown hair desperately needed a trim, and despite my active workdays, my body remained softer, curvier.
I pushed her image from my mind, but Rick's was harder to banish. As my arousal increased, and my legs began involuntarily trembling, I pictured him appearing in the bedroom doorway. Would he stroke himself through his pants while watching me? Or maybe he'd join me on the bed, settling between my thighs so he could play with my wet pussy.
Oh God, I was right there! So close, with the vibrator humming away. Desperate to climax, I thought of how Rick's tongue would feel grazing my swollen clit.
"Fuck!" I shrieked. My toes curled and my shoulders tightened just before the first spasms seized me. As if to punish myself, I kept the toy pressed firmly against my clitoris. My pussy contracted, trying to grip a fantasy cock.
When it became too much, I turned off the vibrator and lay there panting. My clit kept throbbing and twitching even as my quaking subsided.
Legs still wobbly, I climbed from the bed and dressed. After cleaning the toy, I carefully returned it to the drawer. And then I stripped and washed the bedding, all while telling myself I'd never do something so stupid again.
When I arrived at the house a week later, Rick was waiting for me. His face held none of its usual warmth as he said, "You and I need to talk."
Panic gripped me with icy fingers. Had I somehow left evidence behind of my wrongdoing? I couldn't have! I was so careful to cover my tracks.
Following Rick to his office, I felt relieved Selena wasn't around. If I was about to be fired, wouldn't she be present as well?
"Have a seat," Rick told me, nodding toward the chair at his desk.
Once I'd done as instructed, he took his place behind me; I sensed his looming presence. Apprehension rippled from my lower back all the way up to my neck.
I started when he leaned down and reached past me to move the mouse on the desktop. At once, the dark screen brightened, and with a single click, a recording began to play.
It was a recording of me, going about my chores. There I was, dusting the furniture in the master bedroom. The sight, innocuous as it was, made me gasp.
"I'm sure you feel this is an invasion of your privacy," Rick began in a low voice, "but Selena insisted on a camera in our bedroom. She has valuables there, you see. Fine jewelry, designer clothes..."
He hadn't straightened back up, and I felt his warm breath drift over my cheek.
"She assigned me the task of reviewing the footage every week," he went on. "And at first, you were so diligent, so good. But then..."
Mute with horror, I watched myself rummaging through Selena's things, then holding up her expensive lingerie. I saw the snide look on my face, just as Rick did.
"I know my wife acts like a condescending bitch to you, Hollis. I understand your resentment."
His gentle tone, rather than soothing, unnerved me even more. I felt like I was being lulled into a trap.
"So I was willing to overlook your behavior," he said. "Until you did this."
An anguished groan escaped me when the next recording began. The camera, hidden high above, perfectly captured me lying on the bed, the vibrator between my legs.
"The recording has sound, too," Rick informed me.
Suddenly, the office was filled with my moans and cries. I turned my face away, but I couldn't escape my mortification.
"I'm sorry," I finally managed to choke out through unshed tears. "I don't know what I was thinking. I just wanted to..."
"Try a new toy?" Rick snickered at that. He must have seen the single fat tear rolling down my cheek, for his hands were comforting on my shoulders. "Shh, don't cry. Only you and I know about this. For now, at least." His palms slid lower, over my bare arms. "I must admit, I've watched this so many times, usually late at night when Selena's asleep. I sit at this desk, with my cock in my hand..."
I pressed my lips together to muffle a cry.
Ignoring my distress, he said, "On a few occasions, I've timed it perfectly, so you and I come together."
It was then that he cupped my breasts and gave them a gentle squeeze. I didn't pull away or try to stop him. Instead, I closed my eyes, accepting I was completely at his mercy.
"You know if I tell Selena about this..." Rick teased my nipples through the fabric, coaxing them to hardness. "She'll go after you with a vengeance. No one will ever trust you in their house again."
"Please don't," I whimpered.
Tenderly, he lowered his head and pressed his lips to my hair. "I've thought about the best way to deal with this, and I believe I've come up with a solution."
"What is it?" Unable to stop myself, I tilted my head back to gaze up at him entreatingly.
Rick smiled. "If you come up to the bedroom and play with that toy again while I lie next to you and watch, I'll keep this our secret."
I started to shake my head in refusal. Sure, I'd fantasized about this man while masturbating in his bed, but actually pleasuring myself in front of him? I couldn't. The mere idea of it burned my cheeks with shame.
But I had to, I realized. I couldn't lose my other clients.
Just as his fingers slipped into my tank top, and into my bra, I whispered, "Okay. I'll do it."
