So, tomorrow is going to be a nerve-wracking day. Let me explain. One of my customers is a large investment banker Mr. Davidson. He and his wife Gladys live in a large house along with their youngest son Brian. Brian is in his late 30’s and single. He occupies most of the upstairs aside from Mr. Davidson’s small room (Gladys sleeps in the downstairs master because of her waning health) and a guest bedroom. It seems really odd because, well, he’s almost thirty living with his parents who are well able to get along with out him. He works as a composer and teaches Italian at a local college so he could easily afford his own house but chooses instead to live with his parents. Their family is from very OLD money so we’ve all come to the conclusion that either he’s got mental issues, which really doesn’t seem the case at all, or they still follow their family’s 18th century social traditions including single adult children staying with their parents until marriage. Whatever, it’s pretty weird.
I have been cleaning their house for about a year now with my work partner Angela and I’ve have to tell you…I sort of have this weird thing for Brian. He’s a taller, average looking guy with what used to be blonde hair but now has more gray with few blonde hairs here and there. He’s got a less than attractive body but a pretty nice butt and a voice that sounds so much like James Spader it’s scary. He talks to me a lot about the weather, the latest cancer scares and of course classical music which I do think is beautiful but that I could honestly give two shits about. Mostly, I just smile and nod and pretend to listen while I finish cleaning. It’s not that I don’t like him it’s just I don’t really have a good response and I’m sure he will at some point ask for my opinion.
So, two Wednesdays ago started like any normal day. The Davidsons were our first house and after we cleaned Gladys’s room I moved upstairs to do the guest bedroom and then moved on to Brian’s room. I was cleaning his bathroom sink and heard him come in the room. I didn’t think much of it until I heard the noises that most people would associate with a man rubbing himself. I immediately got turned on. Surely he knew I was in the room…my cleaning supplies were right outside the door and the bright color of the bucket they were in was standing out in the beige-ness of his room. I looked up from the sink into the mirror hoping to catch a glimpse of what I thought was going on. In the reflection I gazed at the chair directly behind me. It was empty but in my peripheral vision I noticed his feet laying on the bed. My gaze continued up his ankles, passed his knees, which were still covered by his khakis, and up to his thigh where I could see his pants moving in a way which could only mean one thing. I looked up a little bit and there it was…Brian Davidson’s hand sliding up and down vigorously on his cock.
It was longer than I expected and a seemingly average girth. It was pulled out all the way so that where his zipper had been spread open to allow access I could see the top of his balls and the little bit of hair he had trimmed neatly. He moved his hand up and down fast while switching it up every few strokes so that his palm, wet from spit or lube I assume, slid over the defined head. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I know he had to know I was in there by this point. I’m sure my erratic heartbeat was audible from across the house much less a few feet away. I couldn’t look away though. All I could think was how hot his hand looked stroking his dick. I wanted to walk over and taste it. Replace his fingers with my lips and his palm with my tounge. Fear kept my feet planted and the wetness growing in my pants kept my eyes glued to his crotch. I thought about what it would feel like to slide it inside of me. Could I get it deep enough? Would he let me?
I knew I had to look away. I knew any minute now he would cum and get out of his stupor and realize that I was invading his private moment. But I couldn’t bring my self to do it. I could hear his breath getting louder and shorter and felt my panties getting moister and moister. I broke my stare and let my eyes wander up his torso imagining my hands sliding up the sides as he bucked deeper into my cunt. My eyes made their way slowly up his neck which I imagined kissing while he would suck on my finger that would have just been rubbing my own clit. Then I moved up to his eyes which were wide and returning my stare through a foggy sex hazed cloud. We stared at each other unable to move. I was still holding onto the sink for support and he was still jerking away. I didn’t know what to do or think. I saw his body lift a little never breaking our stare and heard him suddenly groan uncontrollably. He had cum while staring into my eyes and I had stared right back. It was the hottest moment of the year so far. He started to get up, still looking into my eyes and I panicked. I looked back down and continued to clean determined not to have the awkward conversation I knew was inevitable. I heard him pass the bathroom and as I was wiping out the floor a few minutes later I heard his car drive off.
I didn’t know what to do so I just continued on my way with Angela doing the rest of my houses before going home and fucking myself with the my Rabbit replaying the whole scene in my head.
So, now I’m worried. He could either freak out and make up some reason to have his parents cancel service which would be a terrible loss since it is a bi-weekly customer of mine or we’re just going to pretend that it never happened and go on like usual. Well, so far I haven’t heard from the office of them canceling so as of now I’m assuming we’re going there tomorrow. Part of me wants him to be too scared and not come around but the bigger dirtier part of me wants him to be there and have a repeat session…maybe this time I can participate. Sigh…I’ll let you know how it goes of course.