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(Threesome, First Time)
Copyright 2016 Daisy Rose
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. No part in this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or distributed without permission of the author or publisher.
Back when I was still young and innocent, I wanted to be a doctor, a firewoman, a scientist, a teacher.
Those were nice dreams too. I studied hard, graduated high school, got a scholarship, went to college, continued to study hard, and then it dawned on me that the world wasn't a fair place. I couldn't succeed on hard work alone. Especially not if I didn't have enough money to graduate college. After my third semester, a prettier face showed up and my full scholarship was pried away from my cold, dead hands.
Well, I didn't die, but when I was suddenly incapable of paying for my tuition as well as my bills, it felt like my life was over.
So when my roommate, Clair, threw me a bone and I gnawed on it.
So at nights, I don on my maid's outfit and clean houses, apartments, and wherever my employer wants me to.
I enter from the back door, work quietly, and leave before the owners even know I was ever there. Then I return to the small establishment that denotes me by number instead of name and report my progress. I get paid every two weeks. I wasn't enough to cover everything, but it was enough to keep my afloat until my loans were approved.
I had been working the job for the last month. Today, I got home an hour before I was supposed to. Clair looked up from her massive calculus assignment pile, happy for the distraction.
"How was your day?" she asked.
"It was alright," I lied.
"Come on, you have that look on your face," she spread her hands.
"What look? This is how I always look," I maintained, trying my best to look puzzled.
"A look that says you have secrets," her gray eyes glinted and she leaned forward, eager for a story.
"It's nothing," I inserted.
"I know whose house you were in. Tell me what happened," she queried, a curious inflection suddenly entering her voice.
I stared at her for a moment, then dropped my bag on the floor. I closed the door behind me. I didn't want any of our nosier housemates from eavesdropping. Quietly, I pushed the clean laundry to the corner of the bed and sat down.
Then, I asked, "Tell me what you know about apartment four twenty three."
"I've only been to the apartment once," she said, looking straight at me. "He was devastating in every way conceivable. Like a film-star, one of those tough outdoor types. He's handsome and strong, with bronzed skin from all his travelling and lean, clear-cut features. I thought he was black at first, you know?"
"Cause of his name?" I asked.
"No," she feigned surprise. "Darius could be a Caucasian name."
I rose my eyebrows and stared at her until she broke into a grin.
"Alright, it was his name. I found out later that he was on loan from the subsidiary office in South Africa to the main company here... and that his eyes were blue and he had dark brown hair which waved a bit at the front. He was so dreamy..." she sighed.
I know what he looks like, I wanted to interrupt, but kept myself in check and waited patiently for her to continue.
"He came in about half an hour into cleaning. There wasn't much to clean at all," she said. "Was it the same for you?"
"He has a way of looking at people, the kind of eyes that was either looking through you with arrogant indifference, or striping you."
"Stripping?" I gulped, wondering if our experiences were the same.
"It was as if he could see bit of my female form... even before he got me to strip naked."
I found it impossible not to gape at her. I didn't trust myself to speak so I stayed quiet.
"I was sweeping the floor when he entered, like a dark god of some sort... and when he offered me five hundred bucks to take off my shirt, I did it. Once I had my shirt off it was just a matter of taking one piece of additional clothing, one off after another. Then things just... escalated and the next thing I knew, I was working naked."
A deep sigh escaped her as she recalled her time in the apartment. I wondered if she was aware of the noises coming from her lips. They were lewd, perverted sounds. I couldn't help but deduce that she did a lot more than work in the nude for him.
"Did you..." I started saying when she didn't continue. "Did you do anything with him?" I wanted to know.
"No," she shook her head. "He just wanted to see me work naked," she shrugged.
"That must've been uncomfortable," I said.
"Not really. It was... oddly erotic."
"Would you have- you know?"
She turned to me, eyes wide, "Fucked him? I don't know," she shrugged. "There was something magnetic about him. I think I was ready to do anything with him. My clothes were off already anyways," she murmured.
Then her eyes lit up and she squealed, "Did you do anything?!"
"No!" I responded automatically. Then, in a less, panicked voice, "No."
"Okay," she sighed.
"So you worked naked... and then what happened?"
"Nothing," she said sadly. "I never got assigned back to the apartment," she admitted, sounding thoroughly disappointed. "That was the easiest two thousand bucks I earned," she giggled.
Coloring, I started folding my clothes, hoping she would stop talking and return to her work.
"So, what happened with you today?" she asked.
"How did you know I was cleaning apartment four twenty three?" I countered, trying to bring the conversation back to herself.
"The ladies were talking about it, "she admitted. "No one's even been called back to the apartment for the second time before," she said. "What did you do?"