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.


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 Gaziantep Genç Escort 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,

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