When I first opened the front door I hardly even noticed her she was so tiny.
Barely 5 feet tall, she was wearing bright orange sneakers with yellow ankle socks, a white T-shirt and the shortest blue denim shorts I’d ever seen. “Hi, I’m Alice, but most folk call me Ali,” she said by way of introduction, with a refreshingly open smile. “I’ve come about the home help job you’ve advertised in the corner grocery store. Is it still available?”
“Why yes,” I stammered. “Err… why not come in for a coffee in the kitchen and I could tell you what’s involved.”
“Is it ok to leave my bike against your fence?” She gestured towards a lime green cycle with white-walled tyres.
“Sure. It’ll be quite safe there.” I led the way to the kitchen at the back of the cottage. “I’m Al, by the way.”
I heard her give a little giggle as she followed me down the hall. “Ali and Al. That’s going to be a bit confusing, isn’t it? Maybe I’ll think of something else to call you.”
At my invitation, she took a seat at the kitchen table, while I rustled up two mugs of coffee, placed a tin of shortbread biscuits beside her and took a good look at her for the first time. She was definitely Indonesian, aged around 20 I guessed, with her short black hair pulled back into a bang behind her white tennis sun visor. She had sultry almond-shaped dark brown eyes, but wore no makeup. Her legs were long and slender.
“So, tell me what’s involved?” she enquired, dunking a biscuit into her coffee.
“Well… general household cleaning and tidying, I guess best sums it up. I normally do my own washing in the machine once a week. And there’s a dishwasher too.”
“Want me to cook for you?”
“Oh no, that won’t be necessary. I tend to go for convenience food items, which the grocery store delivers, as I don ‘t drive any longer.”
She nodded politely. “I could always pick stuff up for you on my way in, if you’d like.”
“That’s most kind of you… Ali.” I suddenly realised that we were both confidently talking as if she’d already got the job, even though hours and rates hadn’t even been mentioned.
She beamed a lovely mischievous smile across the table and crossed her legs. “How would it be – seeing as our two names are so similar – if I was to call you ‘Daddy’?”
“I’d like that very much.” At that precise moment ‘Daddy’ desperately wanted to see where those shapely ‘pins’ of hers finished up: hopefully meeting beneath her silky smooth cunnie, whose lips might already be swelling in anticipation of some naughty foreplay.
To take my mind off lustful thoughts, I jumped up and collected the empty coffee mugs – though I was painfully aware of an ominous bulge which had formed in my slacks. Ali had clearly spotted it too. Standing at the sink with my back to the young woman, I nervously spluttered out the suggested hours and a rate for the job. “If that’s acceptable, when could you start?”
I heard her rise from the table and quietly pad across to stand close behind me. She sensuously wrapped her dark brown arms around my waist. “Now?”
“Err… that would be perfect.” Her small opened hands moved down onto my hips and then around to the front. “Like me to take care of that, Daddy?” she whispered. And I knew she wasn’t talking about the washing up!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
We quickly settled into a weekly routine, with the ‘climax’ to young Ali’s household duties always being to give her aged employer a deliciously sensual hand-job. Though it was unspoken, this was our ‘sexual boundary’.
With summer approaching, it was agreed that Ali’s hours might be extended to include some light gardening duties such as mowing the lawn and some weeding in my small vegetable patch. When it was warm, she would invariably work topless in the garden, allowing me to marvel at the beauty of her pert little breasts with their puffy nipples.
On one occasion, she turned around and caught me peeping at her divine posterior, hidden beneath those tantalisingly short shorts. She gave a cheeky smile. “Fancy doing it out here today, Daddy?”
“What a lovely idea.”
She slipped out of her shorts and stood naked before me. She crossed her arms in the sign of the Cross and pinched her nipples so that they puffed out. She knew I could never get enough of her breasts. I cautiously ran an index finger across her slit. She closed her eyes and gave a little moan. “Oooo make me wet, Daddy?” Within moments she had secreted dribbles of her love honey onto my hand and smiled as I licked my fingers. Then Ali quietly began massaging my cock, ready for my daily ejaculation which this time was copious, allowing me to coat the front of her swollen quim.
Later, in the kitchen my home help and gardener broke some dramatic news. “Did you know your next-door neighbour is a Peeping Tom?”
“What old Reverend Spooner? Surely not!”
“Yup, he often ogles me when I’m mowing the lawn. I try to give him a nice eyeful of my arse as I expect it helps him get off!”
The thought of that retired vicar sitting up in his bedroom wanking away while half-naked Ali cut the grass amused me no end. She gave one of her mischievous giggles, which invariably signalled the onset of something lascivious. “Hey, Daddy - I know what: when I come over next week, why don’t we lay on a show for the old man next door?”
“What sort of ‘show’?”
“I’ll give you one of my de-luxe hand jobs out in the garden. With you finishing over my titties!”
“Mmmm, I’d like that a lot. And will you talk dirty while you jerk me off?”
”Of course - though there’s one important condition.”
“Oh dear, and what’s that?”
“For the next seven days I want you practice ‘edging’. You can wank, but no cumming ‘cause I want it to be a super-big load. All saved up ready for Daddy to shoot over little Ali’s titties – with the vicar next door watching us!”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I did as she’d instructed – though the temptation to finish each time was considerable. By my fifth day’s ‘abstention’ I was suffering from what youngsters refer to as ‘blue balls’. Clearly the workers down in my personal cum factory were anxious to finish their shift!
At last the day for Ali’s visit arrived. It was a beautiful morning and she skated through her household chores in record time. When I entered the spotless kitchen, the table was laid with a tempting bowl of mixed salad for our early lunch. She poured us both a glass of chilled wine, nonchalantly removed her T-shirt and gave me a delicious smile. “So, how are the ‘blue balls’? she asked with a giggle.
“Pretty bad, actually.”
She got up and moved round the table to replenish my glass, making sure to brush one of her nipples across my shoulder as she did so. “Well, we both know how to fix that, don’t we?”
After a desert of strawberries and ice cream I collected up the lunch things and stacked them in the sink. Topless, Ali headed for the garden, calling back: “Don’t be long Daddy; your little girl’s getting wet already! I’ll be lying under the Magnolia tree.”
I found her stretched out on the grass with her eyes closed, her legs bent and her denim shorts around her ankles, casually frigging her little nub. Around her, fallen Magnolia petals lay like a quilt. She had thoughtfully pointed her exposed crotch in the direction of Rev Spooner’s bedroom window.
She slowly unzipped my slacks and slipped a hand into the opening, gently fondled my swollen ball sack and giggled. “My, oh my – we HAVE been doing a lot of ‘edging’! Let’s take him out very carefully, shall we? See whether we can’t get you to have a lovely big orgasm all over little Ali’s boobies.” Giving me an angelic smile, she added: “Let’s get them totally drenched with your deliciously creamy semen, shall we? Let the pervy old vicar next door see you spunking all over my puffy nipples. How does that sound?”
“That sounds like paradise,” I murmured, knowing that a monster emission was rapidly approaching. At the speed of an express locomotive. “I KNOW it’s going to be huge, Ali” I groaned nervously as I felt the workers below prepare to end their seven-day shift.
“The huger the better, darling!” She tossed her head back to giggle again, at the same time pushing her breasts skywards. My ‘ropes’ came thick, fast and copiously, criss-crossing her dusky brown torso and totally ‘glazing’ those succulent nipples. After some moments she looked down at the glistening lines. “Oh my, what a lovely mess! You don’t know how sexy it is to be drenched with your spunk, Daddy!”
