Maid for Experience

At 18 and a freshman in college, my first real job was as a housekeeper in a retirement home. Being a taller building at 14 stories, Leisure Tower stuck out in a flat suburb of a large city. First responders dubbed it Seizure Tower almost immediately.

Each resident had a small one-bedroom unit to themselves, and I got paid per unit I cleaned. The main downside of the job was the fact residents had to request cleaning, but given the cost of living, most residents chose to do their own. When I started there were only sixteen residents signed up for cleaning, which amounted to about two days' worth of work. The manager, Ron, said I should go around to the residents during mealtimes and introduce myself to drum up some business.

I was a blonde fuzzy twink standing 5'11" and weighing in at a whopping 119 pounds and my shoulder length blonde hair generally stayed in a ponytail at the nape of my neck. My first week went well and all sixteen women who employed my services raved about my cleaning as well as how much fun I was to talk to. The following week, I bumped up to twenty women and after two weeks I had twenty-three women and one man, Harold.

I left Harold's first cleaning as my last appointment on Friday, figuring the apartment of a single man might need some extra work. I was a little surprised when he opened the door, and I found a six-foot-tall black man with full facial hair and a belly I had to squeeze past in the entryway. He must have seen the look on my face.
"Am I the first black man you've ever met?"

I blushed in embarrassment, "No, but you are the first black person I've seen in this building. I've never seen you in the restaurant."

"I only go down there on the weekends when that Maria is working. She's the only one here who seems to know about spices other than salt and pepper."

I laughed at his observation, "Yeah, I've never seen so much pale food in my life. Oh, I'm Eric by the way."

"Yeah, I've heard a lot about you. I'm Harold."

"Nice to meet you," I offered my hand, which he took in a firm warm grasp.

I started in the bathroom and kitchen, like normal and couldn't help but notice how immaculate Harold kept his unit. Then I went on to dust and vacuum his bedroom and living area, again not seeing much improvement from before to after. Everything was just so. I figured maybe he'd cleaned up since it was my first time or something.

The next week I arrived at Harold's on Friday afternoon and once again his apartment looked as if it had already been cleaned, but I went ahead with my usual routine. After all, textbooks don't come cheap.

The third week I finally said something. "Harold, why do you bother having me come in to clean? I don't really feel like I make much of an improvement."

"You can get under the bed easier than I can. Plus, I just wipe everything down, so it looks good, something I learned in the Navy, but you use all the disinfectants so everything's really clean."

I shrugged my shoulders, "Alright, I'll get to cleaning. Still feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

"Nah, nice to have the company once a week, most of my family still lives in Illinois."

While I was trying to dump the mop bucket into the sink the dirty water splashed back onto me, soaking the front of my uniform, a blue polo shirt and khakis. Reflexively I said, "Fuck!"

Harold heard the commotion and came in. "Same thing happens to me whenever I dump water in there. Stupid shallow sink."

"Sorry about the f-word."

"Please, I'm an old Navy man, 'fuck' is tame on a destroyer. If you want, you can rinse out your clothes and put them on the balcony to dry."

I thought about it for a moment, torn between not really having ever been comfortable being undressed around strangers despite being a newly out gay man and having to smell like fake lavender cleaning solution. I opted to face my fears once he added, "Don't worry, I spent most of my career in closer quarters than this with a bunch of half-dressed men."

It wasn't until I took off my clothes, I remembered I had opted for a pink jockstrap that morning. I rinsed out the polo and the khakis and crossed in front of Harold on the couch to go place them on the balcony. When I came back in and crossed between him and Judge Judy, he kept his gaze fixed forward as if it was forced. "Sorry, I forgot what underwear I picked out this morning," I said as I went into the bedroom to start cleaning.

"N-n-n-o problem," he stammered behind me.

After finishing the dusting, I started vacuuming. I figured I'd pay close attention to under the bed since he'd mentioned it. On my hands and knees with the vacuum head positioned against the wall under the headboard, I had the sudden feeling I was being watched. I looked through my parted knees and saw Harold's feet standing in the doorway. Switching off the vacuum, I spun around to confront him. "Something wrong Harold?"

"No, not at all." He paused, not wanting to scare me off. "You got a cute ass."

I smiled. "Thanks?"

"I was just wondering, everyone said you were working your way through college, you need some extra cash?"

A million thoughts flew through my head in an instant, and they all landed at me evaluating being paid for more than cleaning. "What are you thinking?"

He sat on the bed next to me and I sat on the floor leaned against the bed with my feet on the floor and my legs spread, both of us facing his mirrored closet doors. "Maybe you just make this your uniform and instead of the usual ten-dollar tip, I make it thirty?"

Something about the proposal went directly to my libido and my whole body went flush. While I knew I was definitely into men, I had yet to take the lid off the cookie jar, so to speak.

"You didn't strike me as being gay."

"Had a partner for thirty-two years until he died of cancer. Kind of why I sold the house and came here. Figured that part of my life was done with."

I leaned my head against his leg. "Sorry to hear that."

"You got a boyfriend?"

"Me? No. Still a virgin. I get intimidated just at the thought of meeting a man. I went to the Pride festival last month and found it kind of cliquey. I was too hairy for the twinks, too skinny for the bears, too mainstream for the nonconforming, too happy for the goths, one of which called me the human equivalent of a golden retriever. I don't drink, not into drugs, so there's half the gay population not interested in me and vice versa. I've gone on one date with a guy who ended up being married and high up in the Mormon church."

"Seems like we both need to figure out where we belong."

"Harold, you're really kind of cute. The whole 'black don't crack' thing is really working for you. Tell ya what, I come over and clean for my regular fee and regular tip. And instead of you parting with more money, you give me something better, experience."

His eyes widened in the reflection. "Like sex experience?"

"Yeah."

"But I'm an old fat man, surely you can find someone your own age for experience."

I got on my knees, parted his legs, and slid my hands up his thighs, getting my face inches from his. "Like I said, you're really kind of cute."

His pulse shook the bed as he bent his head to kiss me. "You sure about this?"

I kissed him again and slid my hands to either side of his overstuffed briefs radiating heat. "Yeah, I'm sure."

A quizzical look passed over his face. "Do you just want to learn about vanilla or do you want to get into some kinky stuff." The phrase 'kinky stuff' had just left his lips and my erection jumped within my jock. He looked down at my moving cock and back into my eyes. "I guess that's a yes to the kinky stuff."

I smiled as he caught a glance of my ass in the mirror. My hands moved around in his shorts, slipping the front of his briefs to the side. I could feel big balls and a thick growing cock reminding me of the dildo I had stashed away in my dorm room. Unlike the dildo, this was warm and throbbed with energy. "Looks like everything is in working order."

"I was kind of thinking I'd have to take a blue pill to get it going. Nice to know at 82 it can still operate naturally."

The number shocked me. He didn't look or move like any 82-year-old I'd ever seen. He caught my look of surprise.

"Yeah, 82. You want to change your mind? It won't bother me."

"No, what I want is for you to get these shorts off."

He stood up, grazing my face with the bulge under his shorts. He undid the tie holding them up and they fell to the floor. I grabbed the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down to the floor as he stepped out of them. The dark cock surprised me considering the rest of him was more of a caramel color. He pulled off his shirt and threw it to the ground. A dusting of salt and pepper hair flowed from his chest, down his belly, and pooled around his cock. Now fully hard, his cock was easily an inch longer than my dildo and much wider. It was cut and the big head had a bright pink ring around it in contrast to the darkness. He laid in bed and grabbed his cock and balls. "How about we start with a blow job?"

I answered by putting as much of his meat in my mouth as I could.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wrap your lips around your teeth, I shouldn't feel them on my dick."

"Okay."

"Nah, you should reply, 'yes sir'."

"Yes sir." I said starting over on my first ever blow job. I did as he said and sucked away for a few minutes, giving him the driest head ever.

"Boy, you need to get some spit on that cock, so it slides in and out easily. Don't be afraid to get a little sloppy with it."

"Yes sir." I took the criticism onboard and coated his cock with spit to the point it was dripping down his balls and in between his legs. I got so into sucking him, I accidentally rubbed my teeth on him.

"In the closet, on the left wall, go grab what's hanging there." I reached into the dark closet and found something long and leathery. Seeing the riding crop made my dick into cement under the pink jock. I handed it to him and got back between his legs.

"If I feel your teeth, you're gonna get whipped."

"Yes sir."

A few moments later, my teeth made contact again, and I felt the sting of the riding crop against my left ass cheek. The shock and the pain made me scream with his cock still in my mouth. "Watch them teeth. And feel free to suck on them balls and use your hand to stroke me. Some guys can get off on just oral, but I need a little more stimulation."

While stroking his cock with my right hand, my left hand wrapped around the base of his big loose balls. I stretched them down and gave a little tug, which was met with a moan of pleasure. I tried getting both in my mouth, but they were so big I couldn't. I felt the riding crop slap against the top of my ass again. "Just do one at a time. Don't be such an overachiever."

I giggled at his advice. Just like in school, I was always trying to get extra credit.

For easily half an hour, I reveled in the heat of his crotch, alternating between my mouth and my hand on his cock and giving his balls the occasional tug or lick. Slowly his balls pulled up towards his body as I used my hand a bit more than my mouth. (Why didn't anyone tell me my jaw would get sore?)

The entire time, Harold stared at the mirror and watched me suck him. Then I noticed him squeezing and twisting his nipples as a froth of precum formed around the head of his cock. One of his hands grabbed my ponytail, the other hand taking over stroking his cock. Faster and faster, he stroked until he shoved my mouth down on his cock and I could feel his cum flooding my mouth. He must have shot five or six huge spurts into me as I choked and tried to catch my breath. His strong arm held my head steady, slowly letting my mouth come up the shaft and then slowly pushing me back down on it. "Run your tongue along the bottom and get all that cum out."

I pressed the tip of my tongue strongly against the bulge running the length of his cock and was rewarded with a few more dribbles of cum. He released my hair, put his hands behind his head, and just let me play with his softening cock, until it went completely limp and nestled in between his balls.

I crawled up and laid next to him, as he caught his breath. "How was that," he asked.

"Well, I guess I've established I'm okay with swallowing."

He chuckled, "Sorry about that, didn't really give you much of a choice."

"Kind of nice to have somebody else make a decision. All I do at school is think, think, think."

"Sounds like you might be a sub."

"Yeah, I've always been kind of a weakling."

"Being submissive doesn't mean that you're weak. You took that riding crop like a champ."

"Thanks."

He reached over and twisted my nipple hard and smiled when my yelp contained ecstasy and a little pain. "Take off that jock and sit on my face."

"I've been cleaning all day, you sure?"

"Fuck yeah."

I took off the jock and he took it from me, smelled the front and licked the precum I'd left. It felt weird straddling his face at first, until he grabbed my hips and forcefully placed me on his mouth. My dick jumped at the feeling of his facial hair rubbing between my legs and his hot tongue exploring my ass. His hands slid up my body and searched momentarily for my nipples. He grabbed them and twisted while pulling me tighter onto his face. He paused, placed my hole on his chin, and said, "Jack off onto my stomach."

He returned his mouth to my hole as I grabbed my stiff cock and started jerking. Less than a minute and I was covering his belly like a glazed donut. After my balls were empty, I collapsed on top of him, gluing us together with my cum.

Panting on top of him, his touch turned caring as he stroked my back and occasionally kissed my taint.

Eventually, I rolled off him and onto my back. Something in me reached for his hand in the silence and I smiled as he squeezed back.

"How about we hit the showers kid?"

"Yes sir."

He turned on the shower and said, "It takes a moment for the hot to arrive."

"That's okay." I stared at the two of us in the bathroom mirror. He stood behind me and pressed his body against mine while rubbing the cum around on the front of my body. I wiggled my ass against his soft cock.

"At 82, there's a bit of recovery. Plus, I don't fuck guys that aren't ready. Next Friday come over with that ass cleaned out." He kissed the back of my neck just as the steam made the entire mirror opaque and turned us into shadows.

Harold led me into the shower stall. "You want to try your first kink?"

"You mean spanking me with a riding crop isn't considered kinky?"

"Well, let's see if you like piss." My dick turned to steel again and jutted out of my body like a flagpole. He smiled at my sudden erection. "Looks like your subconscious is up for it."

"Do I do it to you, or do you do it to me?"

"You need to piss?"

"Yes sir."

"Let me see."

Before he had asked, I was really in need of a post-cum piss, but the pressure made my bladder tense.

He could see the struggle on my face. "Okay, I'll go first. Any place you want it? Nothing's off the table."

I turned around and spread my ass cheeks.

"No, no, no, you need to learn to verbalize what you want. Tell me."

"Please sir, piss in my ass crack."

"Good boy." Harold did not have the same problem as I did. A hot stream of piss splattered against my asshole, my taint, and the back of my balls. His piss was even hotter than the water coming out of the shower, and I could feel it travel down the inside of my legs. When he was done, he asked, "You want to try again?"

I stood in front of him and tried to release my full bladder. Soon a weak little stream grew into a full-on torrent of dark yellow piss. Harold dangled his fingers in it at first, and then he cupped his hand and splashed it up onto my chest. He put his hand on my ass and pulled me close to him. He took a handful of piss and drank it. "Mmm, you want to try it?"

"Sure," I replied with a bit of reservation.

He cupped his hand for the last of my stream, put his hand up to my mouth, and tipped the hot piss in. It was warm and salty with a strong scent. "Looks like you need to drink more water boy."

I smiled at him. He reached down to my still hard cock and started stroking it with a handful of coconut scented conditioner for lube. He bent over and sucked on one nipple while his free hand twisted and tortured the other. My cum shot out with force all over his leg. He kept stroking as I spasmed from the oversensitivity and leaned into my ear. "That dick sensitive boy?"

"Yes sir." I smiled at him.

He let go and stepped back to the other side to start washing himself. He handed me a loofa with soap on it. "Here, do my back and then I'll do yours." I scrubbed his back, ass cheeks, and legs. "Come on, get up in my ass, and get me clean."

I did as he said. It felt sexy and odd washing another man for the first time. When he'd rinsed off, he scrubbed my entire body, leaving me pink and well exfoliated.

We dried off, I got my clothes off the balcony, and we both redressed.

"So, I'll see you next Friday," I asked.

He hugged me tight. "Yeah, you will. Remember to have that ass ready."

"Yes sir."

He grabbed his wallet off the entry table and handed me a fifty-dollar bill.

"You don't have to pay for sex from me. I had fun today."

"I'm not paying for sex. I'm just paying your tip ahead four weeks. So, if you don't come back, then you're making yourself a whore."

I kissed him and whispered in his ear, "Is it bad that it turns me on when you call me a whore?"

He gave me a huge smile. "Nope, not at all." He opened the front door for me and as I left, he said, "Can't wait for next Friday. Wear something pretty for me whore."

My dick went solid again, tenting the front of my pants. "Yes sir."