I showered and dressed and kissed Mary Beth and Jay as they slept. I walked the short distance to Richard Morrison’s house and let myself in and turned off the alarm. He and Cyndi and their daughter Laura were on a junket to Disney World and I’d agreed to keep an eye on their house. Today my idea of keeping an eye on their house involved taking my clothes back off and grabbing a beach towel and hitting the pool. My doctor probably would have disapproved my being in the water, but I was slathering on the triple antibiotic goo on a regular basis and taking the oral antibiotics and figured I was mostly immune to invasion. I swam laps until I thought I had probably burned off as many calories as I would have had I done my usual morning workout, then pushed myself out of the pool and dried off and spread out my towel on a lounger and lay down and dived into the latest Jessie Stone novel and let the early morning sun go to work on my body.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been laying there when I heard a gasp from behind the screen door. I sat up. There were two attractive women standing there looking at me. One held a carrier filled with cleaning supplies.
“Should we call the police?” the young one said.
I barely stopped myself from saying “I am the police.” Because I wasn’t anymore. Instead I said, “Good morning. And I’m sorry.”
“Who are you?” the older one said.
“My name is John Rand,” I said. “I’m housesitting for Richard and Cyndi.” I paused. “Who managed to not tell me that they have a maid service.”
“Do you have any proof?” the older one said.
I thought about it. “Absolutely none,” I said. “Except that I was able to turn off the alarm.”
She thought about that. Then: “What’s their daughter’s name?”
Pretty smart. “Laura.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“Investment fund manager.”
“Where are they now?”
“Disney World.”
She thought for a minute. “Okay,” she said. “I’m still going to call Richard to confirm, but for now I trust you. I’m Christine and this is my daughter Melanie. We’re going to be here cleaning for the next few hours.”
“I’ll put something on,” I said.
“No, you just enjoy the sun. And we’ll enjoy your butt.” And they walked away to get started cleaning.
This was quickly turning into John Rand Shows His Goodies To Everyone Day. I’m a nudist, which is normally not at all sexual, but I readily admit that being naked in and of itself can easily turn sexual, and also admit that I get a thrill when women get a thrill out of seeing my nude body. I don’t try to make it happen but when you’re naked a lot it happens kind of naturally, like today. More recently I’d also discovered that I like to have sex while other women watch. Given my living arrangements over the last year it actually felt strange now to have sex when there weren’t at least a couple of other women involved. So if the maids were okay with seeing me naked, I was too. I settled down with my book.
It was maybe an hour later when Christine came through the back door, sat down on the lounger next to me, lit a cigarette, and stared at my cock. As always, the attention made it start to get hard.
“Smoke break,” she said.
“You should give those up,” I said.
“I’ve never heard that one before,” she said, and took another drag. “They’re the only things that keep me sane,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“This job,” she said. “My life. My husband divorced me. We didn’t have money. He doesn’t pay alimony. I don’t have any real skills and this job is the best I could do and it pays shit. The company I work for takes most of the money and pays us an hourly wage.” She took another drag on her cigarette and blew it out slowly. “The Morrisons are good people,” she said. “But every week we come here and I get to compare how they live to how we live. It’s hard, you know, to need the job that reinforces how the decisions in your life have all been stupid ones.”
She crushed her cigarette and stood up. “Sorry to unload on you,” she said. “I’m gonna get back to work now.”
“Wait,” I said. “Sit down, please.”
She looked at me for a moment and then sat down.
“Can I borrow your phone?”
She looked at me some more, then reached into her pocket and handed over her cell phone. I looked at the display and pressed redial. It rang, then Richard Morrison’s voice came on the line.
“Hi Christine,” he said. “Did Rand try to molest you girls after all?”
“No, he didn’t,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean he isn’t thinking about it.”
“Hi Johnny,” he said. “How are things at the homestead?”
“Copacetic,” I said. “I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“How happy are you with your maid service?”
Christine’s eyebrows shot up.
“Happy as all get-out,” he said. “They always show up on time. The house is in impeccable shape when they leave. Nothing’s ever broken or missing. And, umm…”
“What?” I said.
“Ah… well, we once managed to leave some embarrassing… items… out in the open in our bedroom on the day they came. That information never became public and they never talked with us about it. And… they cleaned them.”
“Good deal,” I said. “How’s Florida?”
“We’re having a blast,” he said. “We ditched Disney World, though, and we’ve spent the last two days at Universal Studios. Better rides. What? Hang on, Johnny.”
A pause, then: “Hello lover boy,” Cyndi said. “Are you naked?”