Houseboy for Hire

1        A two part story of a man whose lucrative business evolves into a true vocation.  As with most of my stories it develops slowly, and I hope readers will stick with it into the second part.

Houseboy For Hire, Part One

       Rory retrieved the key from under the third flower pot and let himself in the back door.  He had a similar working arrangement with most of his clients, so that they wouldn’t have to be bothered letting him in every time, or even have to be home when he was there.  He made his way down the hall to the kitchen where he found Mr. Givens seated at the kitchen bar drinking his coffee and reading the morning paper.

       “Good morning Mr. G.” Rory offered up with a bright smile.

       Mr Givens looked up.  “Oh, good morning Rory.  It’s Monday isn’t it, and you’re here bright and early as always.  I’m afraid Mrs. Givens is still in bed, and we had quite a busy weekend so we haven’t had a chance to straighten up much and the place is a bit of a mess.”

       No more so than usual, Rory thought, but after all that’s what kept him gainfully and lucratively employed.

       “No problem Mr. G.  That’s what I’m here for.”

       Mr. Givens smiled back.  “I guess that’s true.  In any case, try to do some of the quieter cleaning first while the Missus is still asleep.”

       “Sure thing Mr. G,”

       Rory was a professional housekeeper, a Houseboy for Hire, as his listing and ad on Craig’s List proclaimed.  He had started his business six years prior, soon after graduating from college, almost as a lark, mostly because at that time he didn’t know what else he wanted to do with his life, and also because he was good at and actually even enjoyed housework, having had a great deal of experience with it growing up.  Except for laundry.  He hated doing laundry, even his own, which tended to often pile up in his apartment over time.  He always made it clear up front with prospective clients that laundry would not be part of his services.

       

       He had been quite frankly surprised at how well and rapidly his business had taken off after he had place what was still his one and only ad and listing.

“Houseboy for Hire.  Allow me to expertly and efficiently take care

       of most of your domestic needs.  Weekly or Bi-weekly.”

       He had thought his early success was likely in part due to the novelty.  But his good natured boyish charm and personality, along with his 6' 3" athletic and nicely muscled frame and good looks, also helped to endear him to many prospective clients, especially the women, who invariably were the ones who did the hiring.  After that, the fact that he turned out to be very good and conscientious at the job always helped to seal the deal.

       And he wasn’t cheap.  From the very start he had believed that if he wasn’t going to make a decent living out of it then what was the point.  This had cost him some early potential customers who had balked at his price, but he had gotten some, and when word of mouth, and reviews on the web spread, he fairly quickly built up a thriving concern.  He worked two four hour sessions, 8am to noon, and 1pm to 5, Monday through Friday.  Most clients used him for one regular four hour session a week, although a few alternated with other clients on a bi-weekly basis.  He charged $200.00 for each four hour session, making it a point to always have his weekends off, and allowing himself two weeks off every year for vacation.  With the full Monday to Friday schedule usually filled, as it had been for the past number of years, he was making at base $100,000 a year, and that didn’t include his frequent tips and holiday bonuses.

       Of the former of those, the most frequent and generous come from a more intimate service he had begun to provide for a few of his clients.  They were always the first to approach him in this regard, but he always made sure to make it seem that he was equally desirous.  And he was never so crass as to suggest that money should in any way be involved.  It was just an extra for both parties to enjoy, even as he did always appreciate the larger than usual tips that came his way after. It also helped to keep his own libido well satisfied, even as he was in no other ways engaged by any of it.  He currently had three clients with whom he regularly provided this service, and two others on occasion.

       After Mr. Givens had left for work, Rory set about to begin his chores, quietly as he  had been instructed.  He washed and dried and then put away the accumulated number of dirty dishes and pots and pans that lay around the kitchen, as well as the full stack of clean ones still in the dishwasher.  He then proceeded to sweep and then mop the kitchen floor before moving on to pick up, dust and polish in the living and dining rooms.  He was careful to not make too much noise, although he knew that Mrs. Givens would likely be up soon enough.  As he had come to expect, at about 10 o’clock she appeared at the door of her bedroom, wearing a long white silk robe.  She did not look in any way disheveled as someone who had just risen from bed.  Her hair was carefully combed and brushed, and make up had already obviously been applied to her face.  Upon seeing her Rory gave her his best nice boy smile.

       “Good morning Mrs. G.  You look lovely as always this morning.”

       Mrs. Givens grinned back.  “Why thank you Rory.  It’s wonderful to see you again to start the week.” she purred, and then started to turn back into her bedroom.  “Could you come in here for a moment?  There’s something I need you for.”

       “Of course Mrs. G.” he replied as she led him into the room.  Once he was inside she stopped at the foot of her bed, and with her back still to him she slipped off her robe and let it fall to the floor, revealing her to be fully naked beneath. 

       Mrs. Givens was one of his regulars.

       In her late forties she was reasonably attractive, if a bit short and plump.  Rory clearly knew what to do next.  He ambled over behind her and placed his arms around her, cupping her ample breasts in his hands.  Slowly massaging them for a time he then lightly played with her nipples between his fingers as she leaned more fully back into him.  He then moved one of his hands softly down her belly, eventually finding her patch of hair below.  He let his fingers gently caress the outside of her slit which was already well wet.  Using two of his fingers he spread her distant lips apart, searching for and discovering her button of joy which he began to brush to and fro with one finger, as the other probed more deeply within.  She began to sway, groan and buckle in his grasp.

       Finally she could take no more and suddenly pulled away and turned around, dropping to her knees before him, rapidly undoing the front button and zipper of his pants and pulling them and his boxers down as he rose fully and firmly in front of her.

       “Oooh, you’re so big.” she crooned.

       Rory had never considered his six inches, while thick, to be overly endowed, and he wondered idly at that moment about Mr. Givens in that regard.  Mrs. Givens wasted no time, hungrily enveloping his entire manhood within her mouth, and began to furiously deep throat him.  He would have preferred a more delicate touch and slower pace, but he didn’t find the process entirely unpleasing, especially as he still had work to finish when they were done, and he also had a new client to meet that afternoon and he didn’t want to be late for that.  He let her have at him as such for another minute before leaning forward and gently lifting her up and courteously positioning her on her back on the bed.

       “That was really very nice Mrs. G, but I think I know what we both want more.”

       Mrs. Givens grinned up at him, pulled up her knees and spread her legs wide in ready anticipation.  Rory slipped off his pants completely, pulled off his tee shirt, and quickly put on an ever available and expected condom.  He then knelt up onto the bed between her legs and penetrated her.  In this position he could more readily control the rate and rhythm, but she made her own demands clearly apparent.

       “Harder Rory.  Fuck me harder.”

       He strove diligently to please.

       “Keep going.  Keep going.  Keep going.” she panted.

       And he did.

       “Don’t stop ... Please, please don’t stop.” she pleaded

       And he didn’t.  One of Rory’s many talents in this realm was that he could usually last quite some time, especially when his mind was occupied with what chores he still had to do when this was done, and what his schedule would bring later that day,

       “I’m coming Rory, I’m coming” she shrieked.  “Oh God I’m coming so much.”

       Rory took this as a cue and invitation for his own release, and with one final deep thrust and a low guttural groan, he came himself, accompanied by even louder screams from Mrs. Givens.

       In a few moments it was over, and he slipped out and onto his side next to her.  Taking a few more moments for them both to collect themselves, he finally spoke,

       “You’re the best Mrs. G.”

       She beamed up at him. “Do you really think so?”

       “Without a doubt.” he confirmed.

       She sighed contentedly, and after another minute he began to get up.

       “I hate to have it end so quickly, but I still have to vacuum before I go.” he said. “And I have a new client I have to be on time for this afternoon.”

       “I understand.” she answered.  “I’m going to stay here and rest a bit longer.” she added.  “Don’t worry about making the bed.  I’ll do it after you leave.”

       He gave her another huge smile.

       “As I said Mrs. G.  You’re the best.”

       Rory quickly dressed and got out to finish the rest of his morning’s work.  He certainly wouldn’t shirk or scrimp on his primary responsibilities.  This was his livelihood and he was a professional and proud of it.  This other service, for those that asked and wanted it, was just an extra, a nice little aside and benefit for both parties.

       He vacuumed the three rooms that needed it, then finished dusting, polishing and tidying up so that by noon everything, except the unmade bed which Mrs. Givens had promised to take care of, was clean and immaculate.  He had not seen Mrs. Givens again, but did find the envelope with his check for the morning session on the dining room table, along with, as was written on the outside of the envelope ‘a little something extra for all your good work.’  He smiled , pocketed the envelope and made his way out the back door, placing the key under the flower pot as he left for his car, and to make his way to the afternoon session with the new customer.

       For the past four years, Rory had always been able to maintain a full weekly schedule of clients.  He would lose an occasional one when they would move away, and twice when the customers, after a time, thought that he was a bit too expensive.  More often some clients would insist that they needed him more than once a week, which he would always politely refuse, indicating that it wouldn’t be fair to his other customers who filled all of his slots.  Most accepted this status quo, not wanting to lose him completely.  He had lost a few clients along the way who had truly needed more time, but this never posed a problem for him.  From word of mouth, and regular continuing queries to his web listing, he had a healthy waiting list of prospective clients, which he now had to utilize far and far less often.

       The Monday afternoon slot was the first one that he had had to fill in over six months, but the client he was going to meet now for the first time had not been on his waiting list.  He was taking her on at the behest of Mrs. Franklin, one of his earliest clients, and who had been extremely helpful in the beginning in helping him find a number of new customers.  When she had recently asked if he could now help a friend of hers in dire need of housekeeping help, when this slot had opened he felt that he couldn’t and shouldn’t refuse her.

       He didn’t know much about this new person other than her name, Rhianne Ross, and that she lived alone in a house on the far side of town.  Most of Rory’s clients were married couples, although he did have a few older widows who lived by themselves, and one elderly spinster who treated him like the doting grandmother that he had never had.  He wondered which of these two likely categories this new client fell into.  He had only communicated with her via email, once that address had been supplied by Mrs. Franklin, to set up this day’s appointment and session.

       It took him the better part of his lunch hour to find on his GPS and get to her house, which was on the opposite end and well outside the town.  It was at the end of a small cul-de-sac and up a fairly long driveway.  It was effectively hidden from the road by a large number of trees, but opened up at the top of the driveway to reveal a reasonably sized lawn area and hedges, all of which he noted were not very well maintained.  That was not a concern for him though, as he only ever contracted for inside housework.  The house itself was two stories with an attached garage, and was pleasant enough appearing, though in some areas looking to be needing some upkeep and repair.

       

       He made his way to the front door,  probably the last time to be entering this way he mused, and rang the doorbell.  He waited patiently for well over a minute.  When no one answered he wondered how long he should wait before ringing again without seeming rude or impatient, particularly as hired help.  After more than two minutes he thought that perhaps she hadn’t heard the first ring, and maybe he should finally ring again.  Just as he was about to do so the door opened.

       Standing in front of him was a young woman about his own age, probably in her late twenties.  She was tall for a woman, at least 5' 11", and had long reddish brown hair, now pulled back into a pony tail with a scrungie.  She wore no make up, and for some reason he instinctively surmised that she rarely if ever did.  Nor that she would need to.  It would have added nothing, indeed would likely detract from what he could already see as an almost  pristine and natural allure, with just a hint, he sensed, of a possible darker mystery.  Slim and athletically built she was wearing long track warm up pants, running shoes, and a dark blue tee shirt.  She remained there looking at him intently, waiting.

       After several silent moments Rory was the first to sally forth.  He flashed his brightest, genuine, ‘it’s a great pleasure to meet you’ smile and broke the ice.

       “Hi, I’m Rory, the houseboy for hire.  I believe we’ve been communicating by email and set up this appointment for today.”  If, in actuality she was the customer.  He had never before had a client his own age.  Indeed, he had never had one within ten years of his age.

       “Ah, yes.” she responded.  “I’m Rhianne Ross.” confirming the fact.  “You’re the person Dolores Franklin so highly recommended.  Come in and we’ll talk first.”

       With that she turned and walked away, and he entered and closed the door behind him.  As he followed her from behind he was impressed by how she moved with such a lithe and confident grace.  She led him into a living room and sat down at the end of a long sofa.  She then indicated that he should sit across from her.  The only chair there was a big overstuffed easy chair with a hassock in front, and he didn’t think that as the new houseboy it would seem right for him to settle back into the easy chair, so he sat on the edge of the hassock, facing her.  She appeared to find that appropriate.

       This time she was the one to speak first, and did so with a reserved smile, which nonetheless he found quite charming.

       

       “Mrs Franklin has certainly extolled your abilities and I hope she is right.” she began.  “I work from home, and I’m also a bit of a homebody.  But I’m also not much of one for housework so I need someone to tidy up and put and keep this place in reasonably good order.  Do you think you’re up to that task?”

       He once again summoned up a big, boyish smile.  “It’s what I do, and I promise you I’ll always do my best.” he assured her.  “And I do most everything that deeds doing inside the house,” he continued, “except for laundry.” he concluded, just to make that clear from the very beginning.

       

       “Yes, Dolores did mention that.”  Her smile curved up slightly more.  “I’m sure that’s something we can take care of.”

       He nodded back in return.

       “Well, I think that settles everything for right now,” she said after they had chatted a while longer, “and I have to get back to work, and you need to get started.  So if there’s nothing else, let’s both get to it.”  She then stood up and he hopped up quickly in response.

       “Yes ... Ma’am.”  He hadn’t been sure at that moment how to refer to her.  Miss Ross or Miss R just didn’t seem quite the right way to answer to somebody his own age, and yet she was an employer and an amount of respect for that needed to be somehow acknowledged, so in that instant he had come up with ‘Ma’am’.  She seemed to accept and be satisfied with that. She nodded and left the room without another word.

       After she had left him to his tasks Rory did a quick survey of the house and discovered that she had not exaggerated the general state of disarray.  In every room he found innumerable items strewn all about and seemingly just left where they had last been used.  There had obviously been no serious housecleaning in quite some time, and he realized that it was going to take far more that one session to restore the entire place into some semblance of order.  He decided to attack the most serious areas first, starting in the kitchen with the piles of dishes, pots and pans that needed to be washed and put away.  He scrubbed down the sink, oven, stove and counters, and rearranged neatly all of the cabinets.  This left him with just enough time to scour and clean the two bathrooms in the house, leaving the porcelain toilets, tubs and sinks sparkling, and the tiles of the walls and floor gleaming.  He worried though that she might be upset that he had only gotten to these three rooms, but she said very little as she handed him his check for that first day as he left, other than that she would see him the following Monday.

       

       Arriving the next week he decided to work on her bedroom first.  After changing the linens and making her bed, wondering as he did whether she ever did so herself, he then tackled her clothes closet, finding the floor piled with a jumble of mismatched shoes, slippers, sandals and boots, the hanging clothes jammed together indiscriminately, many half on and half off the hangers, and the shelves above a morass of sweaters, scarves and boxes.  It took him the better part of three hours to get it all in some civilized order, before going back to the kitchen and bathrooms, which after a week again needed some major attention, although no where near as much as the week before.  It took him two more sessions to fully attend to the rest of the house, including cleaning , dusting, and polishing the furniture in the living room, her study, her work out room, and the apparently little used dining room and extra bedroom.

       Every week he would have to spend some time in the kitchen, bathrooms and her bedroom, but by his second month on the job he had things well enough in hand and order that he could get to every room during every session.  It also seemed to him as time went on that things were not quite as messy from week to week, and that she might be making some small effort to keep things in more reasonable order in the times between his coming.  He did notice every week however that her laundry hampers were always overflowing, and he wondered how often she ever got to those.

       Rhianne was always present when he was there, although they seldom interacted except to say hello and goodbye, or if she had a special housekeeping ‘request’, which he always attended to immediately.  She would occasionally grace him with a pleasant smile, something he began to look forward to more and more.  She spent most of her time in her study on her computer, apparently working at her job, whatever that was, information of which she never volunteered.  Sometimes though she would exercise in her work out room, either running on her treadmill or using her stairmaster. Rory made it a habit when she did so, to walk by the open door of the room as often as he could manage, to cast long glances at her from behind as he did so.  He would find himself mesmerized by her long perfectly proportioned legs flowing so fluidly and effortlessly over the churning treadmill track.  When not in her workout top, shorts and shoes, she was usually casually dressed in tee shirts, cutoffs and sandals, her hair either in a pony tail or a bun, but sometimes enticingly hanging loose and long over her shoulders,

       

       He especially enjoyed the times when he would tidy up her study while she was working there.  She would always be so engrossed in her computer activities that she would hardly notice him, and he would take advantage of that by gazing at her for longer periods of time.  He was particularly drawn to the delightful way that she would dangle her sandal from the front of her foot as she typed away on her keyboard.  He soon realized that despite the paucity of their verbal interaction, he was beginning to be quite taken by her.

       Indeed, his Monday afternoon sessions there rapidly became the highlight of his week, even far more so than the intimate time he spent with his regulars several times a week.  He began to fantasize, often while he was there and even more when he wasn’t, that she might ask for and avail herself of this extra ‘services’ as well.  He wondered to himself of course whether she had a boyfriend, or even a special girlfriend, but he never saw or heard any evidence of either, so his own hopes in this regard continued to grow.  It wasn’t something he could comfortably suggest however.  It had to come from her, as it always had from all of the others, only in this case he would want it as much as she.  All he could think to do was to make himself as dependable and indispensable as possible, and have it be readily apparent that he was available in any way that she might want and desire.

       It was shortly after he had been working for her for more than three months that Rhianne surprised him as he was about to leave one afternoon by asking if she might have a word with him.

       “Sure, Ma’am.” he readily replied.

       Once again she led him into the living room and sat down on the end of the couch, as he perched himself on the edge of the hassock.  He waited.

       “Rory,” she finally began, “I’m not usually one to say things like this, but I hope you know how much I appreciate the wonderful job you do for me here, putting and keeping this place in order.”

       He was used to frequently receiving compliments about his good work, but never before had one given him such a thrill.

       “You’ve helped make my house into a home, a place I actually now enjoy living in.” she continued, but then paused, before, “But I’ve also come to realize that I need much more.”

       

       His heart leapt.  Could his ever growing fantasies actually be coming real?  Could she finally be wanting to use him for more ‘personal’ activities, as had been playing out in his mind almost constantly?

       

       “What is it that you might want, Ma’am?” he asked almost shyly, with his ever boyish charm.

       She looked at him expectantly, with a small smile, before proceeding.

       “I think I’ll need at least three afternoons a week, say Monday, Wednesday and Friday.  Monday can continue to be for general housecleaning, Wednesday for outside grounds maintenance which the place really needs, and Friday can be devoted to the laundry.  I think we would then have things fully in control.”

       Rory stiffened, stunned.  Outside maintenance?  He was no landscaper.  Laundry?  Hadn’t they been clear that he didn’t do laundry.  And he never worked more than one session a week for any client, although that might be much more enticing in this case.  Still, laundry!?!?  He hated laundry!!!!

       “Well Rory ...” she prodded.

       He had to buy some time to think.

       “I ... I ... I’ve got a full schedule of clients every week.” he stammered out in reply.

        She sighed.

       “I was afraid of that.”  She frowned.  “ I was really hoping that you’d be able to accommodate me, you do such good work that I wanted to offer it to you first.  But I do have some people that have become available for those three days, who can handle all of my required services, and I don’t want to lose the opportunity to get them.”

       “NO.” he blurted out almost involuntarily.  “Give me some time, Ma’am, please.” he continued in a rush.  “Maybe I can work something out.”

       

       She waited a beat.

       “Okay Rory.  But I really have to know now. Today.  These people are probably in great demand.”

       “A couple of minutes then.  Let me make some calls.”

       She nodded pleasantly.  “You can use my study.”

       Rory got up and took out his cell phone as he made his way to her office.  His Wednesday afternoon clients were the Whites, and he had never particularly cared for Mrs. White, as she never seemed to have anything nice to say about anything or anybody.  He might have dropped them as clients long ago except for his deeply held tenet that one never burned bridges under almost any circumstances.  Still, in this case, it really would only be a one time occurrence, he reasoned.  He called her and told her that an opportunity had come about that he couldn’t pass up, and that he wouldn’t be able to work for them anymore.  As he expected, Mrs. White was less than happy, calling him unprofessional and irresponsible for leaving them in the lurch so suddenly like this.  Although that severely wounded his professional pride, at least Wednesday afternoon was taken care of.

       His Friday afternoon clients, the Thompsons, were much more problematic.  Mrs. Thompson was one of his ‘regulars’, and the one he enjoyed playing with the most as she, a devotee of the Kama Sutra, could be quite inventive in her intimate activities.  He certainly didn’t want to give that up entirely.  He got her on the phone, explained the situation about the professional opportunity that he had to pursue, and offered to come in on Saturdays for her.

       “But Rory, my husband is home on Saturdays.” she answered.  “I don’t see how that could work.”

       His heart sank.  “I’m sorry Mrs. T, but it’s the best I can do.  I just have to take this position.” he responded forlornly.

       There was a long silence on the other end, before, “Well, I guess I can encourage him to play golf more often.  It’ll have to be Saturday afternoons though.  We sleep late on weekends.”

       

       “Thanks Mrs. T, you’re the greatest.  I owe you.”

       “Yes you do, and I’m going to make sure that you pay up appropriately whenever we’re able to now.”

       “You can count on it.” he replied roguishly as he hung up.  Now both afternoons were open, and he made his way back to the living room to inform the waiting Rhianne.

       

       “Excellent.” she responded as he told her, and she flashed him a most dazzling smile, which practically melted his soul.  “I was really hoping that you’d be able to work it all out.”  She stood up and handed him his check for the day.  “On Wednesday you can mow the lawn and trim the hedges.  They’re long overdue for that.  I believe that the laundry can wait just a little bit longer until you get to it on Friday.”  She gave him another big smile.  “I’ll see you then.” she concluded in dismissal as she left the room.

       Rory was in a daze as he drove home that evening.  Just what all had he gotten himself into.  Landscaping.  And Laundry.  It was unbelievable.  On the plus side though, he would be there with her that much more often, have that many more opportunities to ingratiate himself with her.  So far she had shown no inclination to interact with him in any other way than as the hired help, and he was beginning to realize just how much he wanted her to do so.  To see him in a wholly different and more personal way.

       He returned on Wednesday afternoon and made his way into the small shed at the edge of the property where he had never before ventured.  There, thankfully, he found that she had a power lawnmower, old enough that it probably had been left over from the previous owner and sold to her with the property.  He was not so lucky with the hedge clippers, which were of the manual variety.  Both were in dire need of cleaning and maintenance, but that would have to wait for another Wednesday, as the grass was markedly overgrown, and the many bushes all appeared wild and unkempt.  He spent the entire afternoon mowing and trimming, then raking and collecting all the cuttings which he then deposited deep inside the woods.  He didn’t finish until well after six.

       Friday was his first laundry day, and he found not only the two overflowing as usual laundry hampers, but two other full laundry bags leaning outside them, along with three plastic laundry baskets filled with dirty linens and towels.  He knew that he was never going to like or enjoy doing this particular job, but he vowed to himself to approach it with his usual professional efficiency and zeal.  After carrying it all down to the laundry room in the basement, he began first by sorting the colors from the whites, and the delicates from the wash and wear.  He then began an assembly line process with one group going into the washer, then into the dryer when done while the next load went into the washer, and then folding and putting away the first load as it came out of the dryer.  He continued this sequence throughout the entire afternoon, saving all the clothes that needed to be ironed to do the end.  Once again he didn’t finish until over an hour past his usual leaving time.

       

       On those first two days Rory hardly saw his employer, but over the next several weeks that began to slowly change.  She began to sometimes engage him in at least short conversations when their paths might cross, and she also began to grace him with more frequent smiles, some of the dazzling variety which would almost always  buckle his knees.  He also had the opportunity to observe her more often, which he tried to do as discreetly as possible, although she would occasionally catch him doing so, producing from her a different type of smile.  He grew to love the way that she would idly twist strands of her hair around her finger as she read from her computer screen, or would unconsciously chew on the eraser end of her pencil before jotting down some notes.  And, of course, how her sandal would dangle and bob from the edge of her foot as she keyboarded on her computer.

       This all served to heighten the yearning tension that was building within him more and more, day by day, which he tried to salve and dissipate with his ongoing trysts with his regulars.  He found himself enjoying those less and less however, unless while doing so he could imagine himself doing it with her.  When successful in that regard, his partners at the time could only assume that his increased energy and ardor must certainly be due to them.  But it couldn’t go on like this.  In some way, any way, he felt that he had to induce Rhianne to respond to his desire.  If not ... well ... he didn’t know what.

       Just as he was approaching the six month mark in her employ, as he was finishing up with that weeks’s laundry one Friday afternoon, Rhianne indicated that she wanted to speak to him.  After seating herself on her usual spot on the sofa, and he on the edge of the hassock, she began this time without any delay.

       “Rory, let me start again by saying how extraordinary and exemplary I continue to find all of your efforts here to be.”

       The same thrill as before coursed through him.

       “I really enjoy working for you, Ma’am.”

       An accepting smile.

       “I’m very glad to hear that.”

       Her face now became serious.

       “But I think that even you would have to admit that you’re extremely expensive, and at three times a week it’s causing a bit of a financial drain.”

       Now he felt a jab of concern.

       “And so I thought that we might find another way to compensate you for your services.”

       Rory’s heart began to hammer.  Could this be it?  His dreams with her finally coming to pass?  With all of the others it had always been an extra service he supplied when asked, for no additional charge except for the frequently offered bonuses or tips.  But for her ... for this ... he would happily consider a significant reduction in his regular rates.

       “What is it that you’re suggesting Ma’am?” he put forth cautiously

       She gave him a very discerning smile.

       “I believe that I read people very well Rory.  It’s a very important part of what I do for a living.  And I think I have truly come to understand you, the real you, and what you really want and need.”

       Oh please let that be true, he pleaded within.

       “I’ve seen your hints and unraveled your clues, and have come to the firm conclusion that instead of giving you a check like this every week,” she said, holding it up for him to see, “I propose a very different recompense for your services.”  She now offered him a most inviting smile,  “Every Friday, when you’re done with your work for the week, I will reward you with a gift of myself   by allowing you to ...” She paused once more, as he held his breath,

       

       “... kiss my foot.”

       

       Rory felt as if all of that breath had been driven out of him.  Was this a joke?  She couldn’t be serious, could she?  There was no possible way.

       Her voice became stern

       “But you must understand Rory that this offer is non negotiable.  If you do not feel that it would be payment enough for your efforts here, then I will give you your check for this week and we will part ways amicably.  For good.”

       A surge of panic shot through him.  This was all beyond the pale.  How could she even believe.  Almost of their own volition his eyes strayed to her crossed leg and then down to her foot, where her pump dangled from her toes so enchantingly.

       “Well Rory, what do you say?”

       Unable to force his eyes away, his mind struggled furiously to find a way to phrase his refusal.  But his mouth, directed entirely from somewhere else deep within him, as if without any conscious control, uttered forth one barely audible word.

       “Feet.” he whispered.

       “What was that, I couldn’t quite hear.” she responded.

       Still seemingly independent of his brain, his voice grew stronger,  though still ragged and hoarse.

       “Feet.” he repeated.  “I be allowed to kiss both of your feet.”

       She laughed, a delighted and delightful, completely uninhibited laugh, which sounded to him as if it came from heaven itself.  He jerked his eyes upward to be greeted by one of her dazzling smiles.

       “I said that there would be no negotiations, but I do think that we can accommodate that.  Okay then Rory, are we in agreement?” she asked pleasantly.  “That as full compensation and reward for all of your work and weekly service here, on Fridays when you’re done you will be allowed the honor and privilege of kissing BOTH of my feet.”

       

       This time he could only nod.

       “Fabulous.  I’m so pleased that we were able to work this out.  I didn’t want to lose you.  And to celebrate I feel that we should start right away by ripping up this check, don’t you think?”

       

       Again, only a nod.

       With a triumphant smile she lifted up the check and tore it in two.  As she did so he felt as if a long held facade to his inner self and core was being ripped open as well, and that he was now exposed and laid bare before her.

       Rhianne uncrossed her leg and let her dangling pump fall to the floor.  She then extended her foot forward, pointing it directly at his very being.  As if drawn by a magnet Rory rose off the hassock, took two unsteady steps, and fell to his knees before her.

       He gazed down at her still pointed foot.  Its perfectly pedicured and painted toenails and smooth slim beauty captivated and commanded him onward, and he knew without any doubt at that moment that he was exactly where he belonged.  He reached down and cupped her heel in one hand and cushioned her sole with his other, and slowly leaned down to bring his lips delicately to the top of her foot. 

       It was so soft.  And its scent, a hint of her lavender foot creme with a touch of leather left behind by her pump, all mixed with that of her own moisture, was totally intoxicating.  He let his lips linger as long as he dared, finally lowering her first foot to the floor, and then took up her second, bringing his face down to worship that one as well.

       This time he did not have the strength to end the communion, and it was Rhianne who finally broke the contact, gently pulling her foot down to the floor.  She then slipped both of her feet back into her pumps and stood up in front and above him.

       “I’ll see you Monday afternoon ... houseboy.”

       With that she walked away.

       

       Rory, unmoving and still bowed forward, his knees as if rooted to the ground, his eyes continuing to stare at the spot on the floor where her feet had just been, remained behind.

       Utterly enthralled.