Jack pressed the button on the gate guarding the drive of a very expensive house and waited. He waited for some time and was considering pressing it again when suddenly, with a buzz and a click, the gate swung open. The only sounds, as he approached the house, were the crunch of his footsteps on crushed rock and the morning call of a blackbird. Jack selected a suitable place for his bike, locked it, and approached the front door. It opened before he had a chance to knock.
A slim man in an open-necked shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, well-creased chinos and bare feet opened the door, smiled and said, “Come on in.”
Jack stepped into a small entryway onto a polished marble floor. He looked around. The place, at least the entryway, was immaculate, “Hi,” he said extending his hand, “I’m Jack your new cleaner.”
“Dirk, how do you do?”
“The place looks spotless. Are you sure you need a cleaner?”
Dirk laughed and said, “Griet’s in charge. You can discuss it with her.” He pointed towards a door on the right, “She’s in the lounge. Sorry, but I must run. Late for a meeting.” And with that Dirk headed up the stairs leaving Jack alone.
There didn’t seem to be anything else to do so Jack turned the knob on the door to the right softly and opened it a crack. At the far end of the room a woman in a diaphanous dress stood in the bay window. The early morning sun streamed through the windows, penetrating her dress and creating a perfect silhouette. She was on the telephone, standing with her back to Jack, arms crossed, legs slightly apart.
Jack’s knees went a little weak. The woman was somewhere between 170 and 175 cm, slim yet full, with legs Jack could happily explore for hours. His eyes crept up to their apex. From what he could see she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Tearing his eyes away he took in her back and shoulders. She certainly keeps herself fit, he thought.
“That shouldn’t be any trouble. We can manage it by the end of the week,” she said into the phone. She had a deep, rich voice.
Jack looked upstairs to see if Dirk might be coming back but heard nothing. He was stumped as to what to do. It would be rude to barge in on her telephone call; yet it could be considered creepy to cower behind a slit in the doorway with a growing firmness in his crotch.
Finally, she signed off her call and Jack tapped lightly on the door. She spun around as he opened it further and said, “Hello, I’m Jack, your new cleaner.”
“Come in.”
As Jack approached he noticed that the dress was, indeed, virtually transparent and, indeed, she was wearing nothing underneath. Proud nipples sprung from her petite, firm breasts like tight spring buds on a tree. Jack forced his eyes upwards. She had an aquiline nose and deep emerald eyes. Her lips were thin and curled slightly at each end as if she were mulling a secret.
Extending his hand as he approached, he said, “Jack.”
“Griet,” said the woman taking his hand. Her grip was firm. “Have you experience as a cleaner?”
Jack had to confess that he hadn’t and, under the circumstances, was happy to work on a trial basis. Appearing satisfied with that, Griet took him on a tour of the house. He followed her fragrant trail of cinnamon through the back patio, into the kitchen, stealing looks when he could of her shoulders, back and behind. When she started up the stairs Jack found his face within centimetres of her buttocks. He traced every detail with his eyes. Perfect, he thought.
Griet turned at the top of the stairs and Jack quickly looked down to his wrist for the watch he didn’t wear. He crossed his hands over his crotch to hide his excitement. His cock jumped at the touch. She led him through the guest room, the master bedroom, and the boys’ bedroom, the twins were away at camp for the summer. She pointed at the study where Dirk sat semi-horizontally in a chair with a look that said if he’d had a pair of socks on he’d have been bored out of them then she motioned Jack into the bathroom and pulled the door to. There was barely room enough for the pair of them.
“Do you have any questions,” asked Griet.
The one question Jack was dying to ask was the one question he dare not ask and it suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t taken in a single word she’d said throughout the tour. She leaned back against the sink giving Jack a perfect view of her breasts, flat stomach, and the gentle hint of a rise towards her mound, “Would you like to see anything else?”
Jack quickly looked up into her face and immediately sank into the deep emerald pools of her eyes, “Um, aaah, no … thank you … I’ve think I’ve seen just about everything."
Griet’s thin lips curled into a more secret smile, “Are you sure?”
“Maybe it’s best if I just get started and if I have any questions I can come back to you.”
“As you wish,” Griet turned and sashayed out of the bathroom.
Jack managed to pull himself together and make a half-decent effort at cleaning the house, but the whole time he was occupied with one thing and one thing only. Husband or no husband, how could he approach this vision. There must be something, he thought, some interest on her part, but for the life of him he couldn’t think what it might be. She was in her mid-thirties, professional, and gorgeous and Jack, by no means flabby, was old enough to be her father, just. Yet, there had to be some way to break the ice. Thirty years of marriage had rusted his ice-breaking skills and, if he was to be perfectly honest, they were never that highly polished at the best of times.
The following week Dirk was away. Griet answered the door, she was wearing a pair of very short, very tight shorts that drew the eye straight towards her center of delight and a very loose tank top made of very thin material. She let him in and he got straight to work starting upstairs with the bedrooms. Halfway through the morning, he came downstairs to start on the kitchen. Griet was making herself a cup of coffee and asked if he’d like one. Jack accepted and they sat at the bar while their coffees cooled a little.
“What made you turn to cleaning,” asked Griet.
Jack sighed and ran through a synopsis of his life, too many years in the corporate world, running around like a headless chicken, having to accept half-witted decisions from people in high places who got there through connections rather than merit. He’d finally had all he could take and, not having made a lot of money but enough, decided to take a job that he didn’t need to take home with him. Then he asked her what she did for a living.
Griet was a chemist. Jack’s mind immediately flashed an image of her with her hair tied up, clad in a white lab coat and wearing nothing underneath, bending over a microscope. She worked from home half the time and was busy raising her two boys, twins.
“You said they were away at camp,” said Jack.
“Yes, they’ll spend the next six weeks there and then visit their grandparents. It gives them a chance to get out and see the world a little and gives Dirk and me time to relax and enjoy ourselves.”
“How do you relax and enjoy yourselves?” asked Jack.
“We go to naturist resorts,” said Griet.
Jack needed a minute to digest this news. He looked out the back window of the kitchen unto a huge garden, lined with trees at the back and a two-metre hedge on each side. A shortish swimming pool glistened in the morning light, next to it stood a tidy wooden shack. By Jack’s reckoning, the garden faced south and got full sun most of the day, “With a garden like that I wouldn’t think you’d need to.”
“The garden is lovely but you don’t get the same social interaction as you do at a resort,” said Griet.
“I can see that,” said Jack continuing to stare out the window, “sun, sand and nature … sounds nice.”
“Have you ever been to one?”
“Me?” said Jack, turning back to take in Griet’s emerald eyes, “I’ve thought about it occasionally but never taken the plunge. I don’t think it’s the sort of thing my wife would be interested in.”
Griet looked at her watch and said, “Well, it’s time I was getting back to work.”
“Me too,” said Jack and he turned his attention towards the kitchen.
The next few weeks passed relatively peacefully. Jack got into a rhythm. Dirk remained away more often than not and Griet, when she worked at home, mostly worked in loose tank tops and short shorts. Occasionally neither would be home. Jack would let himself in, clean and lock up afterward. Then one day when he knocked at the door it was opened by Dirk, wearing only a pair of cycling shorts, “Morning, come on in,” he said.
Jack hadn’t given Dirk much thought before this but looking at him now, short brushed hair, smooth shaved, no body hair to speak of, wiry and a delicate bulge in the front of his shorts that got the hairs on the back of Jack’s neck tingling.
“Griet’s not here,” said Dirk. “She’s away at a conference and then she’s going to meet up with the boys at their grandparents. I’ve got the place to myself for ten days.”
“Well, I best get started,” said Jack.
“No rush. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
Jack thought about it, concluded, Why not, and nodded his head. Following Dirk into the kitchen he found it difficult to take his eyes off the cheeks of Dirk’s buttocks, they bounced like two playful puppies.
Dirk made the coffee and they settled at the bar. Dirk’s knee brushed up against Jack’s leg and he left it there. Jack didn’t move his leg.
“I’m just firing up the sauna,” said Dirk. “Interested?”
“I’d probably better get to work,” said Jack.
“One week won’t make any difference. This place cleans itself anyway. What better way to start the week than a good dose of heat and a plunge in the pool.”
Jack had to admit that it did sound a lot better than cleaning toilets and washing floors. The pair finished their coffee and headed towards the back garden. Dirk stripped off his shorts and, naked, headed into the sauna. Jack, following Dirk’s cue, stripped off and followed.
The sauna was quite small. It was almost impossible for the two of them to sit and not touch. “Cozy,” said Jack.
“Cozier with three,” said Dirk as he stretched his arm along the back of the bench.
Jack clamped his hands on his thighs which left his elbow nuzzling in Dirk’s midriff. Jack looked down casually, like himself Dirk was clean-shaven and cut. His cock was long and lean. Jack felt his own stir.
“Three you say?” said Jack.
“Five is the record.”
“That beggars the imagination.”
“It took a lot of imagination,” said Dirk. “I can tell you that.”
Dirk opened his legs slightly and their two thighs connected. Jack was unable to hide his excitement. Dirk lifted his arm from the back of the bench and gently took Jack’s cock in his hand. He began to slide it up and down slowly, sweat providing the perfect lubricant. As his hand covered the tip of Jack’s cock he rolled his palm around it a couple of times before gliding slowly down to the base.
“You should be more bold with Griet,” said Dirk.
Jack relaxed on the bench and closed his eyes. He spread his legs slightly giving Dirk better access. “I wasn’t sure,” he said.
Dirk laughed, “To be honest, neither were we. That first day was a bit of a mistake.” He continued to stroke Jack slowly, sensually. “We’d forgotten you were coming and had dressed for something else.”
Without opening his eyes Jack reached over and took Dirk’s cock in his hand and started stroking it in the same slow way, “May I ask what for?”
“Lieve, Griet’s twin sister.”
Jack opened his eyes wide, his hand tightened around Dirk’s cock, “Do you mean?”
“No, no, no,” laughed Dirk, “Lieve’s as strait-laced as they come. They probably invented the word just for her. We just like to wind her up and see if we can’t loosen her up a little.”
“Any chance of that happening?”
“None whatsoever as far as I can see … but … then again, you never know.”
Suddenly there was a sharp rap on the door. Jack tensed. Dirk grinned.
“Dirk, are you in there?” came from the other side of the door.
“Morning Lieve, come on in,” said Dirk as he winked at Jack.
“Are you decent?”
“Not particularly.”
There was an extended silence on the other side of the door. Dirk continued to massage Jack’s cock. Jack kept his hand around Dirk’s. Then, the door opened just a crack.
