Overcoming The Gap(CLOSED)

[fulmineo]

"Fuck!" Darius exclaimed, as he tripped over a wayward pile of clothes, landing with a hard a hard thud. His guards ran into the room seconds later, checking out the commotion.

"Everything clear in here D?" Raymond, his head of security, asked. As his eyes searched the packed laundry room, he slowly removed his hand from his pistol.

"No clearly everything is not clear in here, or I would not have slipped on this damn pile of clothes. Where is the goddamned maid?" Darius barked, enraged.

"She quit last week boss. Said she was moving in with her boyfriend and this job was too far from her new neighborhood. I told you all of this during our weekly meeting Monday." Raymond replied, trying to disguise his amusement. He was probably one of the few people he would allow to take that tone with him.

" And let me guess. No one has thought to put out an ad for a new maid yet." Darius said. He was extremely embarrassed his security team had seen him like this.

"Well the last time I tried to hire a maid, you fired her because you said she was too young. The time before that, it was because she was too loud. The time before that was because she was too quiet and you didn't trust anyone who could be that quiet all the time. The time before that-" Raymond joked

"Okay I get your point Ray. Shut the hell up now. Get one of your boys to clean this damn room up. I was going to do it myself, but apparently if I even stub my toes, you guys are going to kick the door down." Darius cracked. "I'm going to my office to work on an ad for the newspaper.

Darius got to his office and sat heavily in the trash. He burned through maids like his damn gas guzzling SUV's through....gas. Pushing the thought from his head, Darius powered on his screen and open up a new word document.

ATTENTION!!!
In need of a live in house maid for a house with twelve indoor rooms, and the one bedroom in the guesthouse. Must be willing to cook. Ability and knowledge of cleaning a pool a plus, but not a requirement. Age doesn't matter. Wages start at twenty dollars an hour.

Address: 719 Sheridan Place, Upper Eastide. If interested, Please call: 312-555-3450

Darius read the ad over and after, seeing that it was fine he uploaded it to the site that he used to hire new maids and the like. He hoped he got a reply soon, he couldn't take messy he state his house seemed to be in.

"It was because of those kids" He thought to himself. "The things I do for friendship." He sighed thinking of his best friend Lisa and how he "baby sat" her nieces and nephews for her while she worked. He shook his head as he remembered how the kids ritually destroyed his mansion every weeknight.

Refusing to think about it, Darius kicked back, put his feet on the desk and decided to take a nice little nap before they arrived.

 

[Helen46]

It had been almost eight months since Robert's death and I was still dealing with the fallout. Not only did I have to cope with the shock of my 50-year old husband succumbing to a sudden heart attack, but I also had to handle the complications of his estate. With the help of a financial advisor, I had spent weeks pouring over endless accounts and papers and there was only one viable conclusion - Robert had hopelessly extended himself. He owed money to the banks, to private investors, and even to friends. I had no option but to liquidate all our surviving assets: the enormous apartment overlooking central park, the house in the Hamptons, and the investment real estate (our retirement fund) that we had in Florida. With these sales, I managed to appease the creditors but I had to downsize dramatically. There was no one that I could turn to for financial help; our son and daughter were in their early twenties and had debts and concerns of their own. I moved to a tiny, grubby apartment in Brooklyn. The shame was tremendous; I told my friends that I was relocating to Europe. What little cash remained was rapidly diminishing. I needed a job - fast!

But what could I do for work? At my next birthday I would be 47. I had no formal education or training to speak of. Women of my class and background were bred essentially to be good wives and mothers. The idea of working for a living or supporting oneself never entered our heads. I had spent the last two decades running my husband's two homes, supervising domestic staff, acting as an entertaining hostess, raising our two kids, and indulging in all those leisure activities that I had become accustomed to (twice-weekly spa visits, daily workouts with a personal trainer, afternoon cocktails, excursions to the most exclusive boutiques). Each day I scanned the classifieds for work, but to no avail. Either I was unqualified or my application was never acknowledged. It was becoming hopeless. Just as I was about to contact my sister in California and throw myself upon her charity, I spotted the advertisement.

Maid wanted. Although the position was a demeaning one by my standards, it was at least something I could do. Had I not spent twenty years in charge of my late husband's substantial household? Okay, perhaps I did not spend much time cooking and cleaning during that period, but how hard could those tasks be? I was also attracted by the fact that there was no age bias and that there was live-in accommodation. I could give up the rental on my Brooklyn apartment and save some cash. An added bonus was the location on the upper east side. It was a neighbourhood that I knew very well and would feel comfortable in. Once the family who had placed the advertisement had an opportunity to meet with me, and could see my qualities, they would be sure to promote me to a more supervisory role within their home. Bolstered by these reassurances, I called the number. A rather gruff individual answered but I was not put off and made an appointment for an interview the following day.

 

[fulmineo]

The Following Day

"Raymond, don't forget we have that maid coming in for an interview today. Make sure your guys aren't complete dickheads today, okay? Darius requests.

"Hmm. I can try D, but I can't make any promises. Maybe they'll be able to manage only being a third dickhead." Raymond retorted.

"See that they do Ray. I really don't feel like finding another maid. This one has to be the last one."
Darius said tiredly. "I hope she knows how to make a decent cup of coffee. That crap you've been making me is killing my stomach man."

The door bell rings, and Raymond gets up to answer it.

"No, I'll get it. I want to give her the tour personally and make sure none of you pricks try to come on to her or anything." Darius said.

Raymond shrugs and sits back down. "You just want to get first dibs on her."

Darius grins but he doesn't respond. He makes his way over to the front door and opens it. When he opens his door he is confronted with something he wasn't expecting. It was some proper looking white lady. What the fuck was she doing here? Not that he minded though....she was actually pretty hot.

"What do you want?" Darius asked shortly.

 

[Helen46]

My jaw literally hit the ground when the young man informed me that not only had he been responsible for placing the job advertisement, but that he was the sole owner of this extensive and fabulously expensive apartment. When the door opened, I had assumed that he was a servant, even if he was casually attired. I had told him about my interview appointment and asked to see the gentleman or lady in charge. He just laughed and fixed me with intense blue piercing eyes. "I am the owner and if you get this job, you will work for me". He seemed to take pleasure in my discomfort. This man was young enough to be my son, yet there was something worldly wise about him. And of course the other thing that added immensely to my uneasiness was that he was BLACK! How many black men in their twenties owned penthouses in this part of Manhattan? My suspicions were immediately roused. During my upbringing in Charleston, South Carolina, my mother had always said that if you saw a negro in an expensive car, there were only two possibilities: he had either stolen it or had profited from crime, most likely drug dealing or pimping. While I never regarded myself as racist, inevitably I had inherited some of her prejudices. The problem was that I rarely encountered any black people, beyond waiting staff in restaurants and hotels, and the occasional domestic help in the home of a friend.

I had dressed in a formal way for the interview: navy jacket, matching knee-length skirt, white blouse, high heels, and pearls. It seemed appropriate for the position of housekeeper and I wanted to seem professional and responsible. Although I had gone to great lengths to preserve my youth, unavoidably the years had taken their toll. Despite frequent work-outs and a strict diet, it was impossible to disguise the fact that I was a woman in late middle age and that I had borne two children. My hips were wide, my ass well padded, and my massive breasts barely restrained by a 36DD cup bra. My face, however, did retain some of its beauty and my skin was soft and supple and barely marked my wrinkles. From under my eyelids, I could see the young man look me up and down and, apparently, smile approvingly. I blushed uncontrollably. One of my friends had once confided in me that black men love older, voluptuous white women. This thought send a tremor of excitement through me.

Eventually he closed the front door and beckoned me inside. With some trepidation I entered the apartment.

 

[fulmineo]

"You seemed shocked." You thought I was some sort of servant didn't you?" Darius inquired. The woman had damn near gasp when she saw me open the door. It made him wonder if she'd ever even seen a black man before. Darius took some more time to appreciate the woman as she entered his woman and he stepped aside to let her in. her ass was still nice and taught, which was impressive given that she looked to be at least forty. As she stammered her way through her poor excuse for an explanation, he interrupted her.

"Relax miss. It's going to take a lot more than a few looks to offend me. Will it be a big deal working for me? Taking orders from me and my security...most of which are of a minority background?" Darius asked.

When she shook her head no, Darius continued. "Good. It's a relatively small pent house, I usually stay here only in the winter, but my summer home is being fumigated. I will need you to come along with me as we move back and forth. As a matter of fact, that's the case for all my homes....although I do have some maids working in my other homes as well. Will that be a problem?" Darius asked, showing off his wealth. He was enjoying her shock at his words, and the fact that she could barely keep it from showing.

 

[Helen46]

My mind was in a spin as I sat cross-legged on a small sofa across from this young man who had introduced himself as "Mr. Darius". It was the strangest interview that I could ever have imagined. Instead of interrogating me about my experience and skills, he seemed more interested in showing off his vast wealth. There was even talk of other houses and the necessity of travelling with him when he moved between his various properties, something that I had not bargained upon. I knew that I should be concerned about the source of his considerable assets, but I was more intrigued than worried. There also seemed to be others in the apartment - I could hear distant voices from another room - and he spoke about "security". Mr. Darius was unlike any one that I had met before. He did not have the manners or bearing of people from my social circle, but he did have a confidence that bordered on brashness. While he lacked charm, he did have a certain attractiveness I had to admit. He was tall with broad shoulders and muscular arms and torso; I imagined that he was a keen body builder.

He was more intuitive than I had thought and had picked up on my on my shock when I had first encountered him at the door. This only caused me further embarrassment and I stuttered something about being surprised at his age rather than his colour. I reassured him that I would have no problem dealing with African-American superiors and - somewhat dishonestly - that race was not an issue for me. I even found myself agreeing to his proposal to travel with him! In another effort to ingratiate myself, I asked him to call me Helen, something I would never have done with my son's friends or with someone that I secretly regarded as a social inferior. The reality was that I was desperate for this job. I really needed it to work out; I had few alternatives to fall back on.

 

[fulmineo]

Darius was seriously enjoying himself. He loved to watch this lady squirm. He could by how she sat, spoke and carried herself, that she had at one point traveled in much higher circles. He wondered how many times she'd been on the other side of this interview.

"I'm going to need you to start as soon as possible. Preferably today. As you can see, my house is an absolute mess and your services are really needed. If you'd give my men your address and a list of what you'll need from your home, they will go and pick them up. Sound good?" Darius asked.

Then as if it were an afterthought, he added "It occurs to me, I haven't told you anything about the job. You will be required to clean all the rooms. Bathrooms and kitchen. Do not go into the guards' rooms. Those animals can cleanup after themselves. Also, I will need you to provide babysitting services a few times a week. My friend Lisa sometimes comes over with her nieces and nephews and leaves them for a few hours while she works. You'll like her. She's Latina." Darius explained.

He thought about why he really didn't want her in the guards wing and hoped she wouldn't become a security risk. Otherwise it had been a waste of large amounts of money to build the extension to the pent house and calling it a guest house.

"One other thing. What's your name? You neglected to mention it."

 

[Helen46]

"It's Helen" I repeated again. Clearly someone was not listening. Mr. Darius was so intent on listing his possessions that he had not heard when I had earlier given him permission to use my first name. Matters were really moving at too quick a pace for me. The interview had not progressed as I expected; my prospective employer seemed little interested in me or my background. He now seemed to be offering me the job, without even taking up references or interviewing other candidates. I couldn't understand the unnecessary haste. But perhaps I should take him at his word. The apartment was untidy and neglected and he needed help urgently.

For my own part, I was no used to making decisions so quickly. I needed time to reflect and consider. All my life I had been conservative in my appearance, thoughts, and everything I had done. I was certainly no risk taker. I was also perturbed by his insistence on keeping out of the guards' space and his reference to his associates as "animals". What was this all about? The job was also beginning to sound less attractive than it had done initially. Clearly there was lots of physical work involved, and what with babysitting and so forth, I would have little time for myself. The idea that his men would go to my squalid apartment, rummage through my things, and see how I live, was the last straw.

"Look Mr. Darius, I'm not sure about all of this. I really did not expect to be offered the job immediately or to have to start work today. I'm just not prepared for the suddenness of it all. If I had known, I could have packed an overnight bag. I really want to help out, really I do. Perhaps I could be permitted to go to a nearby store and purchase some essentials for tonight, and then tomorrow morning I could go to Brooklyn and fetch my things. That way I could start to get this apartment in order in the next few hours. How does that sound?"

 

[fulmineo]

Darius nods his assent. "Sounds reasonable Helen. I need it to look presentable within the next few hours. I have some uh...business partners coming over today and I can't have them thinking I live in a pig sty." Darius explained. Truth be told, he needed this meeting to go well and the fact had been weighing on his mind. "I'm actually heading out my self, so I can give you a ride to the store."

Darius moved to head to his garage. "I'm meeting with the head of some big financial firm today. Litman and Associates I think they're called. " Darius paused to see if she had started to follow him. He had no idea why he'd just revealed the identity of his partners just now to a complete stranger. "You ever here of them? I heard one of their biggest accounts was lost recently and so they've come running to me."

 

[Helen46]

As I accompanied him downstairs, I kept asking myself if I was doing the right thing. This was all so reckless and so uncharacteristic of me. I knew nothing about my employer beyond that he was extremely young, handsome, and black, and that he had accumulated great riches through means that were not immediately apparent and probably very suspect. He kept rattling on about "business meetings" and "partners" none of which made any sense to me. Why was he telling me? I was only the hired help after all. Foremost in my mind was putting together some sort of overnight bag of essentials. I would need a toothbrush, toothpaste, a hair brush, and a range of basic cosmetics, and of course some fresh underwear. Perhaps he could take me to some department store like Macy's where I could get everything at once. Was he going to accompany me into the lingerie department? The mind boggled. Also much more important to me than all this idle talk about his business enterprises, was how I was going to clean such a large apartment on my own. I had so little experience of carrying out any type of domestic duty. Would Mr. Darius discover my shortcomings and fire me? I really wanted to please him, to keep him on side. This job was my only chance of staying afloat.

 

[fulmineo]

Darius felt as if he was slowly going insane, as he babbled to the new maid. When they'd reach his garage he flipped the light switch to reveal the four cars he had parked there.

He surveyed the garage. He was trying to decide which car to use. Eventually he decided he'd just take his BMW out for a spin. He headed towards it and starts the car, and unlocks the for Helen.

As they pull out of the garage, he started up again.

"Helen....to be honest you don't look as if you would be a maid. You look like one of those socialites running around this city showing off their money and their good looks."

He was driving, but wasn't sure where would suit her needs best. "Sears maybe?" He thought. "No the Macy's was way closer." He headed to Macy's, driving like a lunatic.

 

[Helen46]

I was beginning to think that Mr. Darius was high on something. He never ceased talking about the money and possessions he had accumulated, and his eyes had this wild, glazed appearance to them. My thoughts, as always, were elsewhere. But when the lights came up in the garage and his fleet of high-end sports cars came into view, I did have to admit that I was impressed. My late husband was never interested in such toys and indeed he thought that such trappings of wealth were vulgar. He preferred to invest his cash in real estate. I, on the other hand, always liked quality cars. There was something so sensual about leather, polished metal, and the incredible power and roar of the engine that I found so sensual.

He held the door ajar for me and I sank down into a very comfortable, low slung seat. I could see him staring at my plump thighs as the skirt rode up an inch or two and my nylon-covered-legs brushed against each other creating a electric charge. As soon as he turned the key, the engine screeched into life, sending a tremor of expectation through me. Like a man possessed, Darius raced out of the garage. Under normal circumstances, I would have implored him to slow down, but I was enjoying the speed and this strange out-of-control feeling that I felt. What was happening to me?

 

[fulmineo]

He had expected her to protest, to demand that he slow down. But she appeared to be enjoying the feel of the engine's power rumbling through her. Hoping he didn't hit traffic, he sped up a little more. He watched her as she inhaled sharply.

As he drove, he took the time to appraise her. He didn't try too hard to disguise his looking, as he didn't think that letting someone know they were attractive was a particularly bad thing. Before, he was in business mode so he only gave her a cursory assessment, but it was a good first look.

He loved the way her hips filled the seat. His eyes went a little further north and he noted her well toned body. "Impressive" He thought. His eyes kept on with their journey. He spent a very long time enjoying those big beautiful breasts of hers. But it was her face that captured most of his attention. She was still very beautiful, but age had added an air of experience that thrilled him. He enjoyed the curve of her lips as she tried not to smile, enjoying the ride despite herself.

"Its okay to smile, Helen."

 

[Helen46]

The trip to Herald Square between 34th and 35th was a short one, but Darius drove so fast and so aggressively that it was beyond exhilarating. My face was flushed from the excitement. He was fortunate that it was late in the afternoon and that there appeared to be no cops around to witness his recklessness. I was suddenly aware of his eyes upon me. It had been an eternity since I was conscious of being checked out by a man and at first I doubted my intuition. Surely he can't be looking at me in this way? For Christ's sake, I'm old enough to be his mother. While I made an effort with my grooming, I had allowed myself to slide into middle age. I was very conservative, even frumpy, in my dress. My short blonde, greying hair had a good cut and I knew how to use make-up and cosmetics to my best advantage, but there was no disguising my big booty (as I had heard a neighbourhood boy once refer to my derriere), massive rack (my husband's less-than-endearing description of my bust), and the other curves and crevices that defined my mature body. But yet this assertive black men seemed to be enjoying the view. I blushed fiercely. And then he made some throw-away remark about the lack of joy on my face. If only he knew what I had endured recently.

I got out of the car. Instead of waiting in the car for me, he followed me through the doors of Macy's. God this is going to be difficult I thought as I needed some intimate things. After picking up a toothbrush and a few other items, I made my way to the lingerie department with Darius close behind. I decided that perhaps the best strategy was to ignore him and quickly to make my choices. I could feel his warm breath on my neck as I sifted through some gossamer-thin silk panties on one shelf. Turning around, I could see a smirk on his face; he was clearly enjoying my discomfort.

Now I needed a bra. "Can I help you, Madam" asked one of the pristinely beautiful assistants. I could see by her expression that she was intrigued about the relationship between the somewhat buttoned-up middle-aged white woman and the much younger, coarser black man. "I need a bra, something simple and functional, please". "Of course, madam" she replied. "And what size are you?" "I'm a 36DD" I timidly responded. Just as she was handing me a Playtex wireless bra, I felt Darius push his way alongside me.

Before I had an opportunity to intervene, I heard him say abruptly "Hey, haven't you something a little more sexy. My friend's not a nun, ye know". I was rendered speechless by his forthrightness and lack of dignity. The store assistant looked at me and then at him, seeking some guidance as to what was happening here. My embarrassment could not have been more acute. "What about that bra and the matching panties and suspender" he grunted, pointing at a poster of a model on the wall directly behind the assistant. "Oh that's the Sandra range from Agent Provocateur ((http://www.agentprovocateur.com/sheer/info/sandra-bra~black/36dd). Very exclusive." "Yes, I think that is exactly what Helen needs. Just wrap everything up" he said loudly, handing her his gold credit card.

I looked up at the poster. It was entirely inappropriate. This lingerie was intended for a much younger, leaner, and more daring person than I. Gosh, the bra was so sheer that you could clearly see the model's nipples. I could never wear it. My face was spruce with a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and uncertainty. But instead of walking away, both from Darius and the job, I found myself demurely watching Darius take the bag from the female assistant and then I followed him to the exit, my head bowed in case anyone would recognise me.

 

[fulmineo]

I was so excited, that if that little encounter in the store had lasted any longer, I'd have probably cum in my pants. I had no idea what it was about this lady, old enough to be my mama, that was turning me on like this, but I enjoyed it greatly.

The lingerie I had purchased for her would look perfect on her. It's too bad he would likely never get to see her in it. He looked at her as they walked out of the Macy's department store. Her head was bowed and she toyed with her still mostly blonde hair. Was she trying to hide her face? Didn't want people to see her with a young black man probably.

When we got back to the car, I paused. Instead of opening the door for her, I pull out my keys and I dangle them in front of her.

"Helen, do you know how to drive stick?" I ask When she nods her head yes, I toss her the keys and she goes around to the driver's side and gets in. I smiled broadly. This was going to be a very fun ride home.

When we were both in the car, Helen started the engine and it roared to life, then muted itself down to a powerful purr.

"How does that feel Helen? Do you like having so much power at your fingertips? Do you like the way this perfectly built machine reacts when you shift its gears?" I ask her in my most seductive voice. I knew now that no matter what, I would have her in my bed at some point.

 

[Helen46]

I staggered towards the car and only Darius's strong arm prevented me from hitting the pavement. The incident in the lingerie section had left me even more confused and reeling than before. I had allowed a black man, no older than my own children, to buy me the most intimate apparel in a public space. Some of the people from my circle still liked to shop at Macy's, although many of them preferred smaller more upscale boutiques like Chloe, Lanvin, and Oscar de la Renta. If any of them even heard that I was seen with a young black boy of dubious background, I would be a social pariah. It was only my desperate circumstances that prevented me from running out of the store at the first suggestion of something untoward. If I didn't keep this job, I wouldn't be able to make next month's rent. It was that realisation that made me endure this public humiliation.

And yet there was another part of me that was secretly enjoying this new-found attention. For the last year I had spent all my time dealing with the aftermath of my husband's sudden death, the tremendous grief, and then the realisation that I was financially ruined. I had no time for myself. It was months since I had bought anything new. Darius's impulsive purchase was the first time that anyone had given me a gift in ages. I thought about the flimsy pieces of fabric contained in the bag that he held. Even in the good times I would never have considered spending money on something so frivolous. And yet there was something very enticing about the delicately made bra and panties with their sheer, translucent lace and fishnet. I had this odd desire to try them on, to feel the soft material against my skin, to model them for someone. Why was I thinking such crazy thoughts?

It was disarming when Darius offered me the keys. He was clearly obsessed with his material possessions yet trusted me sufficiently to drive such an expensive piece of hardware. It was also such a audacious male car and seemed almost an extension of his own personality. I knew that i shouldn't but I inserted the key and turned it. Immediately the engine started to throb, the vibrations causing me to tremble. My foot instinctively hit the pedal and the powerful beast thrust forward, as I struggled to tame it. I caressed the knob of the gear stick between my thumb and forefinger as I changed gears. All the time Darius was watching me with an intensity I had not felt before. What was going through his mind? Was he looking for something more than just a maid?

 

[fulmineo]

Darius was enjoying watching Helen try to tame the power of his car. Even the way she worked the gear shift was arousing his interest.

She drove at a moderate pace, watching the road intently. He was unused to seeing such a look of absolute focus on a woman, but he could tell she was very aware of him.

He could see her following his every shift in the passengers seat. She was unlike any woman he'd ever gone out with or bedded. They were mostly loud, and proud. Always making a scene and making their presence known. No subtly at all.

She was prim and proper. She had even blushed when he'd brought her the bra. It was just a bra. Its not like he'd brought her a dildo. He grinned as he thought about how she'd react in that situation. Would he get to see her blush again? He loved the way her face colored when she was embarrassed. It gave her a certain glow, made her look twenty years younger.

Darius closed his eyes and sat back in his seat. He had to get such thoughts out of his head. He did not want to scare the woman away. He wanted to keep her around for a long time.

 

[Helen46]

My hair was wet with perspiration by the time I turned the car into the underground parking garage. I had never driven a high-performance car before and while the experience was thrilling, it was also more than a little frightening. My legs were wobbly when I got out and, again, Darius stretched out an arm to prevent me falling. This time his hand lingered a little longer in the small of my back. I felt a tingle of excitement creep up my spine. He then released me and I smoothed out my skirt and jacket and tried to get my hair into some type of order.

We took the elevator up to his penthouse and once inside we showed me immediately to my room. It was a surprisingly large space with a kingsize bed, balcony, and bathroom. Hardly the maid's quarters that I had expected! He then opened a wardroom and showed me a range of uniforms in different sizes. "I'm sure you will find something in your size here. Put it on and then I will take you to the rooms that you have to clean" he said helpfully, closing the bedroom door behind him as he left. The uniforms were knee-length black dresses with white collars, white trimmed half-length sleeves, white aprons, and zippers at the back. Another surprise: I had not anticipated having to wear something so traditional. Darius clearly wanted me to look like a maid. Perhaps he got some kick from the role reversal of having a high-society white woman in servile clothing waiting to be commanded by a black person.

It was only when I looked around that I noticed the brown Macy's bag on the bed. Opening it, I discovered that the assistant had not only included the bra and panties, but also silk stockings and a suspender belt. Darius had purchased the entire set that the model was wearing in the poster! It must have cost him several hundred dollars, not that he minded. Amazingly the girl had got my measurements exactly right. Emboldened I decided to put everything on. There was something tremendously forbidden about undressing in this unfamiliar room and pulling on the delicate, exotic lingerie. When I looked in the mirror, it was if another person, a stranger, stared back at me. The underwear had completely transformed me. Okay, my large breasts were hardly supported by the thin wisps of lace and fishnet, and my stomach swelled above the tight-fitting high-on-the-thigh pants, but I did look different. More confident, more attractive. But then the realisation hit me: I looked like a whore. What would my son and daughter think of their stuck-up, butter-would-not-melt-in-her-mouth, conservative mother now I thought? It was only then that I became aware that the door was slightly ajar. He had not closed it fully.

 

[fulmineo]

I had not fully closed the door on my way out. To be honest, I didn't know what to expect, but I did know that I was hoping to see her try on the outfit I'd purchased for her. I watched as she undressed in front of the mirror, I was getting an unfettered view of her gorgeous body.

Then the real fun began. She bent over and pulled on her panties. For a split second, I caught a look at the prettiest pussy I'd ever seen, and her tight rosebud. She straightened after that, and put on her bra. The silken material could hardly contain her impressive breasts, and they threatened to spill out over the top of their cups.

As she modeled the outfit in front of the mirror, I was aware that I was the hardest I had ever been in my life. And it was over a woman that probably graduated high school the same year as my mother. But there was no doubt that his cock was pulsing for her, practically begging him to enter the room and take this woman.

He was suddenly aware of attention on him. He flushed, feeling my face get hotter and entered the room again.

"I'm not going to pretend I wasn't watching.....I just....I was hoping you'd try on the umm outfit..."

I was actually stammering....like a fool. It had been so long since a woman had reduced him to such a state. The only thing he was thinking, was that he hoped she didn't notice his hard on.

"I'm not going

 

[Helen46]

When Darius entered the room, I was startled beyond belief. No man apart from my husband Robert had ever seen me naked or semi-naked before. My whole body from head to toe seemed to break out in a deep crimson colour. I tried to shield my breasts and crotch with my hands, but I knew it was useless. The underwear left little to the imagination. The bra was plunging and had the effect of pushing my heavy boobs closer together and thrusting them upwards, creating a deep cleavage. Additionally, the embroidered material was completely transparent and the wide areolae and prominent nipples were entirely visible. I almost cursed when I realised that the panties, although less diaphanous, barely covered my pubic mound. Thin wisps of hair were jutting out from along the edge. I never bothered with bikini waxing like a lot of my friends, preferring a more natural look, but I did like to trim. However, I had neglected my "lady gardening" in recent weeks to my shame. Looking in a mirror, I caught a glimpse of my ass from behind, which was also less than flattering. Most of my flabby buttocks were uncovered and their wide globular forms were obvious.

"Please" I stuttered. "What are you doing here? Am I not allowed any privacy?" It was only then that my eyes were drawn to the groin area of his trousers. There was no mistaking the bulge. My employer had an enormous erection. Suddenly I began to fear for my well being. I was in a strange apartment with a man barely out of adolescence, who I hardly knew and who in all likelihood was some sort of hardened criminal. And when he looked at me there was a puzzling, almost callous leer on his face.

 

[fulmineo]

Darius couldn't figure out anything to say.

"I uh was just coming to remind you that I had company coming over....so if you could just clean up a little, then you could have the rest of the day to do whatever it is you need. My cars are at your disposable. Just ask the guards for the keys." He managed to stammer out.

Darius turned around to flee, but something in him stopped and he turned to say one last thing.

"I know I might have come on a little strong today, but that's just how I'm used to being. Very direct. I try to let others know what I think of them very clearly in no uncertain terms. I would just like to say that you have a wonderful body, and the man who gets to enjoy the view is a very lucky man." Darius said.

Then, finally he turned to make good on his escape.

 

[Helen46]

I stood there open-mouthed as Darius left the room. A vortex of emotions consumed me and left me perplexed. First I had discovered this peeping Tom and he was obviously aroused by what he saw. i fully expected to be raped. But instead he never lays a finger on me and instead gives me cleaning instructions and promptly left the room. Then he compliments me as he leaves. What signals was he sending me? Surely a high achiever like Darius took what he wanted rather than biding his time? More to the point: what would I have done if my young employer had made a move on me?

I hurriedly put on the maid's dress and tied the apron around my ample waist. If I was to get this apartment into any presentable shape I needed to find the vacuum cleaner and the detergents fast.

 

[fulmineo]

Darius was rubbing his temple. The meeting had not gone well. He needed those legitimate lawyers to work their magic to bring his front companies completely aboveboard. Originally, he was to pay their firm fifty million for their services. Now they were talking about needing points on his companies. Twenty five percent they were asking. Twenty five percent! Back in his old neighborhood, if someone tried to play him like that, they'd already be stinking up a mortuary somewhere by now. But he was trying to legitimize his organization, and bodies would be bad for business and they knew it.

Darius got up from behind his desk and headed to his kitchen. He really hoped that there were some cold beers left and he wouldn't have to go out and buy some more. He wasn't in a driving mood.

When he entered the kitchen, he was impressed. It was much cleaner than a few hours ago and it definitely smelled better too.

Darius opened the fridge, hoping against hope that there was food in there. He couldn't remember if the last maid had went shopping before she quit.

 

[Helen46]

By the time, I collapsed on my bed I was more than exhausted. I had spent five solid hours cleaning the apartment which was in a far worse state than Darius had intimated. My hands were sore and calloused from using a damp cloth to wipe every available surface. There was also a pain in my lower back from hunching over repeatedly in using the vacuum cleaner. The kitchen, in particular, was in a terrible state and it took me an age to clear away used dishes and remove layers of dust and grime from the floor, counter top, and walls. I knew that I was not cut out for physical work and i was uncertain as to how long I could sustain this trojan effort of mine. As long as my employer was impressed, that was all that mattered.

I had not seen Mr. Darius in some time. There were mumbled, agitated voices coming from one of the rooms and at one stage an enormous black man, who dwarfed even the owner of the penthouse, emerged and abruptly instructed me to restock the fridge. He thrust the number of a supermarket company upon me, who, he said, would deliver. I ordered a range of foodstuffs, as well as several crates of beer. The men in this apartment looked like beer drinkers and I should do everything to appease them. My survival depended on it.

 

[fulmineo]

Darius was pleasantly surprised to find that Helen had indeed done some shopping. And she'd even bought beer! She didn't seem like a beer drinker....someone must have told her or something. She was turning out to be very good. Quite impressive really.

After making himself a nice turkey sandwich, he grabbed a cold beer and headed to the living room. He turned on the television and caught the last thirty minutes of the Knicks game. They lost by a lot to a little.

Darius turned off the TV. As he sat there, pondering his day, Helen found her way into his thoughts once again. He found himself remembering how good she looked in her lingerie earlier. Of its own accord, his hand reached for his cock. He unzipped himself, and unleashed his manhood. There was little chance of being discovered. Most of his guards were in the backroom, working, and Helen was more than likely asleep by now.

He stroked his member to stiffness and closed his eyes. He fantasized about Helen on her knees in front of him, putting her mouth to work.

"Oh fuck, Helen you suck a good cock." Darius said aloud.