I have been working as a maid for a few years and I like the work; the pay is not bad and no one seems to care how I dress. I almost always wear a tank top and black leggings, but this morning had been a little different. I had been halfway through masturbating when I looked up at the clock. I knew if I did not start getting ready immediately I would be late, so I was forced to leave myself hanging on the edge of orgasm.
Apparently, my heightened sexual state impacted my clothing choices because, although I selected a white tank top and black leggings as usual, I failed to put on a bra and I substituted my usual boring white panties for a lacy red thong.
By the time I left my fourth client’s house, I was regretting my clothing choices. My breasts were sore from bouncing all over the place and I could feel my thong starting to chafe. On the upside, I was feeling sexier than usual. Mr. Jones, my second client of the day, must have been intrigued by my less than modest appearance because he watched me intently as I cleaned.
My fifth and final client of the day was Mrs. Smith. I pulled into her driveway at four o’clock and as usual, saw her through the large bay window running on her treadmill. I opened the front door, which was never locked, yelled “Hello!” over the banging of the treadmill as I entered, and got to work.
I had been cleaning Mrs. Smith’s kitchen for several minutes when I heard the treadmill stop and her footsteps approach the kitchen.
"How are you?" Mrs. Smith asked as she poured a cold glass of water for herself.
"I'm well. You?" I responded without looking up from my bent over position cleaning under the stove.
"Not bad. I'd be better if my ass looked like that when I wear leggings," Mrs. Smith teased.
"Oh come on. I would kill to have your body," I responded, genuinely surprised this beautiful athletic woman who I had always admired was jealous of my body. I’ve never been a skinny girl and while boyfriends have always complimented my breasts and ass I never felt confident about what I saw in the mirror.
Mrs. Smith and I made small talk as I cleaned and she rehydrated. We had become quite good friends over the years. We both enjoyed having someone to talk to at the end of a long day. As I finished cleaning the kitchen, our conversation slowed, and after a long pause, Mrs. Smith asked quite nervously, "I've been meaning to ask you something, Amanda."
"Ask away," I responded a bit curious why Mrs. Smith seemed so hesitant. There was another long pause. I could tell whatever Mrs. Smith was trying to say was serious. Was I getting fired? Had I done something wrong?
Mrs. Smith finally spoke, but she still seemed very nervous. "Amanda ... as you know, Father's Day is next week. I want to do something special for my husband, but I need your help."
I sighed audibly in relief then said, "I'd be glad to help. You seemed so nervous I thought I had done something wrong."
"Oh no. You are an amazing maid. It's just that this is a strange request," Mrs. Smith said a bit more relaxed, but I still detected a hint of nervousness lingering in her throat.
"I'm sure it will be fine. What is it you want me to do?" I asked, relieved I was not in any kind of trouble and happy to help in whatever way I could.
Mrs. Smith’s nerves seemed to spike again as she struggled to say, "My husband has this ... this fetish. He likes to watch women who need to pee." I was a bit startled. I never expected a sexual request. Sure, we had talked about some sexual topics in the past, but usually it was about Cosmo articles. I had never even met Mr. Smith.
"What do you mean?" I asked my nerves now spiking as well.
"Well, for example, he should be home in about an hour. I just drank three glasses of water so If I don't pee until he gets home, I will be quite desperate by the time he arrives."
"I’m in! What exactly did you have in mind?" I said emphatically.
"You're okay with doing this?" Mrs. Smith asked, sounding surprised apparently expecting a different response from me.
To be honest, I had been surprised by my own response, apparently denying myself this morning had set me off on a naughty streak. The last time I had a day like this it ended with me bent over a bar after hours getting all three of my holes pounded and filled with cum, but that is a story for another time. "Sure. Sounds kind of fun. How bad could it be?" I said, vaguely remembering saying something oddly similar right before passing a bartender my panties and asking what he and the other two bartenders did after closing.
"We will leave the details up to him. All you need to do is show up next week with a full bladder and an open mind," Mrs. Smith said, still a bit hesitant.
"No problem, Mrs. Smith," I said with enthusiasm in an attempt to reassure Mrs. Smith I was more than happy to help.
"Thank you so much. I appreciate it ... And I'm sure my husband will tip you handsomely next week."
I went back to cleaning and Mrs. Smith moved into the living room to watch TV. I was still a bit shocked by Mrs. Smith request and my own response. I was nervous, but I could also feel an excitement starting to build inside me. As I continued cleaning, I could not help but think about what might happen next week. Questions were swirling around my head ... Did I really just agree to show up next week with a full bladder? What is Mr. Smith going to do? Will I have to hold it for the entire time I am here? Is he going to watch me while I clean? Will Mrs. Smith watch as well? Will I be allowed to pee before I leave? If I am allowed to pee, will I be allowed to use the toilet or will Mr. Smith want me to pee my pants? Should I bring a change of clothes? The longer I thought about it the more my questions started to feel like fantasies. Will Mr. Smith be hard knowing I am desperate to pee? Does he have a big cock? Will I be able to see the bulge in his pants? By the time I finished cleaning, all of my nervousness had been eclipsed by an overwhelming sexual desire. I needed to get home and cum before my lust got me into trouble.
On my way out of the house, I walked into the living room intending to say goodbye to Mrs. Smith before heading home. I could not wait any longer to get home and fuck myself to a screaming orgasm, imagining every possible scenario for next week. However, as I walked into the living room, I paused to look at Mrs. Smith. She was sitting on the couch watching TV with her legs tightly crossed and fidgeting constantly. As much as I wanted to get home and cum, I was too curious about Mrs. Smith’s predicament to leave.
"Is something wrong?" I asked sarcastically taking a seat next to Mrs. Smith on the couch.
"Very funny,” Mrs. Smith responded, irritated by my blatant teasing. Mrs. Smith took a deep breath to regain her composure and said, “My bladder filled a bit quicker than I had hoped. I'm not sure I can hold it until he gets home, much less however long he wants me to wait."
"I'm sure you can do it. You are a strong woman," I said, trying to strengthen her resolve.
"Thank you, I hope so too. He gets so horny when I hold it for him, we usually have amazing sex afterward."
I was not sure how to respond and afraid that talking would somehow reveal that I could not get the image of Mrs. Smith begging Mr. Smith to let her use the bathroom out of my head. I decided the safest course of action was to just sit and watch TV with Mrs. Smith for a little while. I tried to focus on the TV but could not keep my eyes off Mrs. Smith. Her bladder must have been bursting because she kept adjusting her legs and pressing her hands into her crotch. When the episode ended, Mrs. Smith stood up and started pacing, stopping and bending at the waist intermittently. “God Damn it, where is that man? I’m going to lose it before he even gets home!” She yelled, clearly desperate for relief. I was also desperate for relief, but of a different kind. However, I decided at that moment I could not leave without seeing how this played out.
“Mrs. Smith…,” I said rather quietly, trying to get her attention.
Mrs. Smith took a deep breath and turned carefully to face me before answering, “What is it?”
“I was wondering ... Do you think I could stay and see what happens when your husband gets home?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager. There was a long pause. “Just so I know what to expect next week," I added hurriedly in an attempt to hide how horny I had become.
"If it will make you feel more comfortable. Of course, you can stay," she said.
Mrs. Smith continued pacing while staring at the door until a few minutes later Mr. Smith pulled into the driveway. “Thank fucking god!” Mrs. Smith exclaimed as she walked to the door and opened it for her husband. "Thank god you're home. I'm dying to pee," she said as he walked through the door to put down his bag.
"What are you still doing here?" Mr. Smith asked when he noticed me sitting on the couch. I was too enthralled to respond. I knew Mr. Smith came home late because he went to the gym after work, but I never imagined he was in such good shape. Even in his dress clothes, I could see how muscular he was. His sleeves were snug around his biceps. The legs of his pants could barely contain his quads. I wanted to see what his abs looked like more than I would care to admit.
"She agreed to my idea for your Father's Day gift, but she thought observing today would make her more comfortable next week," Mrs. Smith answered, while I was still staring at Mr. Smith, imagining every inch of his naked body.
"Well, she's in for a treat then. I've got a challenge for you,” he said, smiling mischievously.
"Oh god! I'm already bursting!" Mrs. Smith said trying to express to her husband just how very desperate she was.
"I know, so here is the challenge. You have five minutes to drink another glass of water and then another hour of holding. Clearly, you will not be able to hold it for an hour so after you inevitably lose the challenge you will be spanked for the remainder of the hour. If you do not drink the water fast enough the spanking will be doubled."
"Please, sir, I'm already close to losing control," Mrs. Smith said her voice almost breaking. I did not think Mrs. Smith would make it another ten minutes, much less any significant portion of an hour.
"I wasn't done. Now you only have three minutes to drink the water. Interrupt me again and I won't let you cross your legs. Where was I? Yes, the spanking. The first ten minutes will be a hand spanking, the next ten a flogger, then ten with a paddle, any time after that will be one cane stroke per minute because not holding it for at least thirty minutes simply means you weren't trying your best. Obviously, the spanking will be delivered on the bare and followed by equal time in the corner as usual. Our maid here is free to stay for all the festivities."
"I'll try my best sir, I promise," Mrs. Smith said, clenching her teeth as Mr. Smith walked into the kitchen.
