A little over 9 months ago they seemed to finally turn the corner. They were constantly busy, and had added a third team. It meant longer days, and busy Saturdays, but I could see how happy my wife was, and she did her best to make sure our time together was quality. Brenda was contributing to the household account, and I was pleased to see our coffers slowly growing. Three months earlier she had surprised me with a check repaying our original investment. We had Gail and her husband over for big steaks, and I bought my first bottle of Dom Perignon to celebrate. We got toasted, and Gail cornered me in the kitchen, letting me know how much she appreciated my support for their effort by tickling my tonsils.
Things were looking up.
Our sex life had gotten much better, which I attributed to Brenda’s new success. We were active at least a few times each week. She always took Sundays off, and made sure that Sunday mornings were a time for us to get reacquainted in the bed. From that turning point months earlier, she would give me oral almost every Sunday. In the last couple of months she even continued it through completion.
The night of our big celebration, she let me go down on her, and afterward she blew me until I came, and even swallowed. God, I was living the good life. Our sex had taken a 180. There were still things I’d like to try, anal was one of them, but it looked like they were still off the menu. I wasn’t going to complain, and didn’t pressure her, since it seemed the menu was slowly growing. New positions, oral, even using toys. After two years, our relationship seemed even stronger than before she’d started her business.
The only downside was kids. Or lack thereof. We’d talked about it extensively while dating and the first few months after we’d married. We both wanted children, but we were young and wanted to get established first. I felt like we were there. We had a nice home, I made almost 6 figures a year, and we had money in the bank. Brenda kept putting it off, saying she wanted to make sure her business was going strong before hitting it with a pregnancy. We were both in our late 20’s by this time. Not in a hurry physically, but it sure seemed to me like the time was right. I decided not to push her, but still had a date in my mind, where I wanted us to move in that direction, or duke it out.
Of course, her business was where I turned to do Nick this favor, even if he were absent and wouldn’t enjoy the view. I was sitting in his study, after looking over the place and determining what he needed. I decided to go online and set it up. It was a last minute decision, and I scheduled it for the day before he was supposed to arrive back home.
I brought up the cleaning website and was surprised to see the message, “Welcome Back, Nick.” Nice little touch. He was automatically logged in, as a VIP guest. I was a little surprised that he was a regular user of the service. His house certainly didn’t look like it had been cleaned recently. Maybe he’d stopped using it, with the expenses of the wedding.
I hadn’t been on the website for almost a year, and was amazed at how good and professional it looked. I hit the button to schedule a cleaning, and was brought to the VIP page. I was more than pleased that I was able to schedule the cleaning with such short notice. It did mean scheduling a morning appointment, starting at 8:00 am.
At the top of the page were three pictures of preferred outfits. Sexy maid, lingerie, and bikini. The Sexy maid was the cheapest, and since there’d be nobody to see, I went for that one. Even so, the $10 an hour upgrade for the other two outfits seemed like a bargain.
When it came to the actual cleaning, there was a long list of check-box items to choose from. I saw she had taken my suggestions to heart. I decided to go all out, and ran down the list, checking most of them, each with an additional charge.
Some of them were typical weekly cleaning items, others were the specials I had mentioned. The kind of things you might only do once a year.
I started with checking the full-service weekly cleaning box. I checked Mattress Flipping, and was surprised it had two choices, top down, or bottom up. Weird. Seemed like the same thing to me, so I checked the first one, bottom up. Baseboard, bathroom detailing, vent cleaning all seemed like useful items. Blinds seemed like a no-brainer.
There was even a check box for Decorative Arrangements. Like I said, it felt like the place could use a woman’s touch, so I checked that one as well.
It was a little more expensive than I thought it would be, amounting to over $300. No wonder my wife had been able to pay back the original loan. I accepted the charges, and was surprised that there was no way to pay for it. On the final confirmation page, it stated it would be paid from the active account. Damn it! Now I was going to have to pay Nick back when he returned, and he’d know how much I’d spent.
Oh well. He’d appreciate it. Even if he didn’t, I’m sure his new bride Alice would.
* * *
Two days later I took the morning off for the cleaning. It was my business after all, ownership had some side benefits. I set up in his study, doing a little work that I could do remotely. I was waiting for the doorbell to ring, so I could let in the cleaners.
I was on the phone to one of my East Coast clients, when I realized I could hear a vacuum running. I finished the call, and opened the door, to see a team of scantily clad whirling dervishes cleaning like mad. A short, curvaceous Latina woman walked up to me in her French maid outfit, abundant cleavage on display.
“La senora esta lista en el dormitorio principal.”
If my high-school Spanish was right, the Mrs. was smart in the principal’s bedroom. I followed the pointing finger, to figure out why she was smart.
I opened the door to Nick’s bedroom and my heart almost stopped.
There was a beautiful naked woman lying on the bed, belly down, legs spread and tied to the bedposts. Her hands were handcuffed and attached to the headboard. She was blindfolded. A pillow lifted her hips in invitation.
She giggled, and I almost lost my breakfast. “You’re back a day early. I thought you said you were done with our service, Nicky? Being married and all. Couldn’t give it up, could you?”
I felt my body quivering, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. My wife Brenda was lying on the bed, naked, waiting to be used. Apparently a common situation.
Her little laugh, always so cute, now sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard. “I know you’re there, Nicky. Why so quiet, cat got your tongue? I can’t believe you finally opted for the bottom-up service. What’s the matter, sweet Alice won’t let you play in the back door? And Blinds? Getting a little kinky, are we? You said you always liked to look into my eyes. What’s changed?”
I could feel my heart pounding, my blood rushing into my head. Sadly, I also felt it rushing into my lower appendage. The bitch would never let me in her ‘back-door’ but it looked like any one of her customers could get that privilege for the right cost. I moved closer, and saw the glisten of lube already applied to her forbidden hole. I was furious!
She started thrusting her butt into the air. “C’mon, lover. I know you want it. What’s with the silent treatment? Is this part of the game?” She shook her legs, and rattled her handcuffs. “Decorative Arrangement? Is that what it is? You want a little role-play? ‘Oh, sir, please don’t hurt me’,” she whined in a high-pitched young girl voice. “I’m so helpless, use me if you must, but don’t hurt me.”
Fucking slut. Our marriage was over, but I’d use her. Hell yeah. She’d deprived me of that ass for far too long. I stripped off my shoes and pants, and climbed up on the bed behind her.
“Oh no!” she giggled. “Not my hiney, mister! Please, not in my bottom! I’m still a virgin back there.”
Right. I aimed my cock between her cheeks, guiding the head in, and pushed mightily. She groaned, and pushed back as I slowly sunk in.