The House Sitter

by Sienna Knight on February 13, 2012 with 0 Comments in Feature , Stories

February 2012

In this Issue:

I was in a foul mood. My two-week business trip had been cut short due to client error, and then, since I had no other business in the area, I’d had to change my return flight reservation at the last minute. Of course, then my flight was canceled, and I’d had to spend the night in a hotel I wouldn’t have booked my worst enemy in.

But finally, after a five-hour flight, I was riding in a limo and homeward-bound. I couldn’t wait to get there. All I could think about was changing my clothes, pouring myself a drink and putting my feet up.

As the driver pulled up in front of my house, the first thing I noticed was the sound of music—but not just music. I’m talking about thumping-bass, where’s-the-party-at music. I mean, it wasn’t late, but it was after ten.

It took me 30 seconds to remember that I hadn’t called to cancel the house sitter. That had to be it. My boss had asked me to take this trip on short notice, and I’d first asked my friend Serena if she could check on the house and stop by to feed my cat, but since her car wasn’t working she offered the services of her cousin as an excellent and reliable house sitter. I was a little skeptical at first, but Serena said this cousin of hers was also a cat-lover and I wouldn’t be disappointed.

At that point I didn’t have much choice, and I did trust Serena’s judgment, so I gave her my spare key and told her I was holding her responsible if anything went wrong.

Now I paid the driver, climbed the stairs to my porch and peeked through the window, but I didn’t see anyone—just the cat, sleeping comfortably on the coffee table, where she knows she’s not allowed! The other thing I noticed was that someone had tidied up! The piles of books and newspapers I’d left spread all over the couch and the floor had been neatly stacked, and the reason the cat was able to lounge on the coffee table was that someone had cleared off the papers and coffee cups.

I wasn’t expected back for another few days, yet Serena’s cousin had already cleaned—and that wasn’t even part of the deal. Well, I certainly wasn’t going to pay extra for housecleaning when I hadn’t asked for it.

The door was locked, so I used my key to get in, and dropped my carry-on by the door. The cat opened one eye, but didn’t budge. Apparently I was going to have to reassert myself and remind her of the house rules.

But first things first. I left the music playing and made my way to the kitchen. I didn’t find the house sitter, but I did find a pot of sauce simmering low on the stove, and all of the dirty dishes I’d left behind in the sink had been washed and put away. Also, I couldn’t swear to it, but it certainly looked like the floor had been mopped. Who was this person?

My next stop was upstairs. Slipping out of my pumps, I climbed the stairs. I had two bedrooms and a full bathroom to check. The bathroom was empty—and spotless! Someone had picked up the laundry I’d carelessly tossed in the corner. I checked the guest room, but that was empty too. Which left the master bedroom, and I just couldn’t imagine what Susie Homemaker would be doing in there. Then again, maybe she was flipping the mattress and changing the sheets.

The door was slightly ajar, and as I got closer, I heard the unmistakable sounds of sex—a man and woman moaning, and the sound of skin slapping against skin. I was pretty sure it was the TV, but along with that I heard the low moans of a man which sounded quite real.

Without opening the door fully, I was able to see the room reflected in the mirror over the dresser—and a dark-haired man stroking himself in my bed! I was stunned beyond belief.

Was this Serena’s cousin? If it was, I didn’t know whether to thank her or wring her neck. What if this was a home invader—a gorgeous, neat-freak home invader? If this was Serena’s cousin, somehow I’d expected a young woman, maybe college age, trying to earn extra money by house sitting. This was a full-grown man. And he was hot. And he was working his fist up and down what looked to be a nine-inch cock!

Ohmygod! I should have been outraged, but I wasn’t. The sight of this man jerking off in my bed had me horny and hot, and wondering how it would feel to slide myself down that thick pole of flesh. God, it was bigger than my vibrator! Then I noticed something black and silky in his hand and thought, No, no, not my La Perla’s!

I was about to scream at him, but it was too late. As the couple on TV reached their climax, the man arched his back, groaned loudly and shot his jizz into my favorite and most expensive pair of panties.

I closed my eyes and counted to ten.

“You must be the house sitter,” I said as I pushed the bedroom door open and stepped into the room.

Any normal person caught masturbating in someone’s bed would have been embarrassed, but this guy had the balls to lie back on the bed, give me a lazy, self-satisfied smile and introduce himself.

“You must be Charlie,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you home so soon.”

“Ya think?” I said, getting angrier by the second. “And it’s Charlotte. Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Miles,” he said. “Serena’s cousin.” Then he sat up and held out his hand—the clean one, that is. Still, eww! I looked over at the TV, and saw that the credits were rolling. It had to have been a DVD that Miles had brought with him. I prefer reading erotica rather than watching porn.

“I hope you make a lot of money house sitting, because you just ruined a $200 La Perla thong. And get the hell out of my bed.”

I’d been gone a week, so I had to wonder if he’d made use of any other pieces of my lingerie. Actually, I found it kind of flattering, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

“You must be tired,” he said. “Why don’t you just relax, and I’ll fix you some dinner?”

I remembered the pot of sauce on the stove. It really did smell good. And I’m a lousy cook. It’s take-out all the way for me. I wondered if Serena had told Miles that the way to my heart was a home-cooked meal and a decent-size cock. I would have to speak to her when I had a moment.

While I was thinking about dinner and dicks, Miles got out of my bed. He didn’t even bother to cover up. And I didn’t bother to hide the fact that I found his body, so fully displayed, absolutely delicious. His cock, although no longer hard, was still a force to be reckoned with.

I felt my panties grow damp and the muscles low in my stomach clench with need. I was between boyfriends at the moment and had told Serena often enough that sometimes the vibe just doesn’t do it for me. Come to think of it, I remembered her mentioning a cousin of hers she wanted me to meet. A gourmet chef.

Miles saw me staring and smiled. Maybe I smiled back, I’m not sure. But when he came toward me, his cock had already begun to harden.

“Serena’s told me a lot about you, Charlie,” he said. He was still coming toward me, but now his cock was leading the way. His body was pretty amazing, but I only had eyes for that magnificent cock.

“I think I’ve heard about you too,” I said. “You’re a personal chef, right?”

“That’s right, and I’ve been waiting for her to introduce us, but you’re such a busy woman.” He was right in front of me, just inches away. “I’m glad you came home early.” He dropped my ruined thong on the floor. Then he started to undress me. Horny slut that I am, I let him.

Miles leaned forward and kissed me, deeply. He tasted of spicy tomato sauce and fresh basil, and I wanted to devour him. While we explored each other’s mouth, he pulled off my blouse and bra. Since he was already naked, I helped him take off my skirt and panties. When we were skin to skin, he pushed me back on the bed and knelt between my legs. He used his fingers to spread my labia and blew lightly on my clit and pussy, sending shivers through me. Then his tongue was sweeping a path between my inner folds, and it felt really good. I fell back on the bed with my hands on his head, my fingers tangled in his hair.

A tiny part of me wondered how I could let this stranger undress me and eat my pussy, but a bigger part of me thought, This is my best friend’s cousin, and he’s hot, and he sure knows how to make me feel good!

Then he added some fingers to the mix and thrust them inside me. I moaned as he pumped them in and out while he sucked and licked. It was fucking incredible! I vowed that even if this turned out to be only a one-nighter, I would never let myself go so long without getting laid.

Miles was relentless. He kept driving me closer and closer to climax, until he pushed me over the edge. Then he just kept right on going until I pulled him up for a kiss so I could regroup.

He grabbed me and moved me farther onto the bed. His cock felt huge against me. While I wondered if I’d be able to handle all of it, I felt the fat tip rub against my entrance. I watched as he rubbed himself along my slit, spreading my wetness all along his length. I knew he was trying to get as much of me on him as possible, but where I needed him was inside me.

“Miles, you’ve ruined my favorite thong. The least you could do to make amends is to fuck me—now!” I thought I’d said it nicely, but there might possibly have been an edge of desperation in my voice.

“Somebody’s impatient,” he said, well, patiently. “Serena mentioned something about that—about how you really need to relax.” Then he pushed the fat head of his cock against me and pulled back again.

I was going to kill Serena. I didn’t need to relax, I needed to get fucked. I slowly raised my knees and reached down to take hold of Miles’s cock. He was big, but I was so horny and so wet, I was positive I could take him. I made sure he was right at my entrance, then reached around and grabbed hold of his tight ass and pulled hard.

The head of his cock popped in, and that was it. He laughed, and I screamed, “Fuck me, please!” I must have gotten my point across, because he shoved all of that thick meat in me, and before he even started thrusting I was trembling with pleasure. He filled me to the max. It was pleasure to the extreme, and I reveled in it.

Then Miles started to move. “Jesus, you feel so fucking good, Charlie,” he groaned. “I could fuck you for days.” He pumped into me with long strokes, each deeper and harder than the last. I felt another climax building inside me. Each stroke elicited a moan from me, and when he picked up the pace and started working his cock, my moans evolved into a continuous warning of my approaching orgasm.

“You’re going to come soon, Charlie,” he said through gritted teeth as he drove his cock into me. “Me too.”

I held on for dear life as the climax that had been threatening to take me over did just that. I screamed out my orgasm as Miles’s final thrusts were punctuated by hot bursts of his come filling my depths.

I was totally blissed out, satisfied like I hadn’t been in months, and limp as the dirty laundry in my carry-on. Miles and I were plastered together with each other’s sweat, but I couldn’t move. Then the silence was broken by my stomach growling.

“Didn’t you say something about feeding me?” I murmured. “Where’s my dinner?” Maybe he’d take pity on me and bring the food to the bedroom.

“I’ll check on the sauce,” he said. He bounced out of the bed and ran down to the kitchen. This guy was a hell of a lot better than my vibe—and he didn’t need batteries.

Fifteen minutes later he was back. “Come on,” he said.

“Where’s the food?” I said.

“Shower first,” he said, pulling me out of the bed. I felt like a rag doll, but I followed him down the hall to the shower. He’d already started it, and the water was perfect. I leaned up against the tile, letting the spray rain over me. It felt good, but what happened next was even better. He had the sponge, which he’d soaked with my lavender shower gel, and he started gently washing my tired body. Why hadn’t any of my ex-boyfriends done this for me?

I felt totally relaxed at first, but when Miles turned me around and made me lean back against him, I felt his cock—he was getting hard again! He reached around with the sponge and squeezed suds all over my tits while he kissed and sucked on my neck. One hand rubbed me sensuously with the sponge while the other hand trailed down my body. When he reached my mound, his fingers slipped between my legs and played with my clit. I felt his cock between the cheeks of my ass and thought, Oh man, if he wants to fuck my ass, I am never letting him leave this house!

“Dinner’s ready,” he said against my ear, “but I want to fuck you again, Charlie.” He knew I wanted to again too. My nipples were hard and swollen, and I ground my ass against his thick cock. I was sure that with a little soap I could take him. I wanted to. I needed to. Only one of my boyfriends wanted to fuck my ass. Since Serena and I talk about everything, I’d mentioned that, and I couldn’t help wondering if she’d given her cousin some tips.

“It’s Charlotte,” I moaned. “And yeah, I want you to fuck me again.”

Miles told me to get down on my knees, and I didn’t hesitate. I was thankful that I’d just replaced the rubber mat at the bottom of the tub.

“I thought all your friends call you Charlie,” he said. He pushed me down on my forearms so my ass was offered up to him. Then he squeezed something cool on my asshole and I felt him start to work first one finger, then another in my tight hole. He had found my lube, or else he’d brought some with him. Whatever. I like a man who thinks ahead, and cooks, and cleans—and fucks like there’s no tomorrow.

“That’s true,” I said as he started to push his way into my back door.

“I think we’re going to be friends,” he said. “Good friends.” There was a hint of huskiness to his voice.

Damn, he was a big boy, but I relaxed and he slowly worked his way in until he was balls-deep in my ass, filling me like no other lover ever had. I moaned, loving the feeling of him. That extra width and length was no joke. He knew how big he was, because he didn’t move. He held himself still inside me until he knew I was ready.

I tightened my muscles around his cock, and he cried out in ecstasy. “God, Charlie!” he groaned. “You’re going to make me come if you do that again.” He pulled out slowly, then pushed back in at the same pace. That slow glide had me wanting more friction, and the next time he pulled out I used my arms as leverage and pushed my ass back hard onto his cock till his balls slapped against my ass cheeks.

“Oh, so you’re ready to play now,” he said. “Okay, let’s do it.” And he pulled out and pushed back in, over and over, harder each time, and deeper. He held me by the waist to help bring me back to meet his strokes. We started thrusting against each other, our moans and groans blending as we pushed each other higher and higher, till we reached our limit and tumbled over the edge into orgasmic bliss.

My body hadn’t been this used in months. I couldn’t have formed a coherent sentence if my life depended on it. Miles slipped out of me and pulled me back against him. We stayed that way with the shower beating down on us for a while. Finally, he helped me to my feet and we finished showering, with me leaning against him or the wall for support.

When we were toweling off, my stomach growled again. “If you don’t feed me soon, you’re fired,” I said.

He said, “I think we’ve both earned some dinner.”

We headed downstairs to the kitchen. I had a short robe on; Miles was content to walk around naked. Perfect! My dining room table has a glass top, so as long as his plate wasn’t in the way I’d get to look at his luscious cock. I took a seat, and he served up pasta, meatballs and sauce, homemade breadsticks and wine. I was famished, and the food was to die for.

“So, Miles,” I said between mouthfuls, “you’re Serena’s cousin, you’re a chef, and you’re a house sitter. Why have I not heard of you until recently?”

“I was in California for a while,” he said, “but now I’m back in New York starting up a catering business. I’m taking house-sitting jobs until I find a place to stay.”

“Well, I could use a hand around here,” I said. “I don’t cook. I’m terrible at housekeeping. And like you said, I think we could be great friends.”

He gave me that smile again. “Would I still have to replace the La Perla’s?” he asked. “I found them on the floor of your bathroom and just couldn’t resist.”

“We’ll see,” I said.

We’d finished dinner, and I watched as he loaded the dishwasher. We took our wine into the living room and sat on the couch.

“What kind of porn were you watching?” I asked.

Instead of answering me, he dashed upstairs and came back down with the disk. He popped it in the player and turned on the TV. The first scene was about a delivery guy who was late with a woman’s pizza. She pulled him in her apartment and told him she wouldn’t complain if he fucked her, so he did her on the kitchen counter. Of course he was late with his next delivery, and that woman wanted to give him a blowjob.

Miles had already pulled off my robe, and I was half lying in his lap while he played with my tits and my pussy. When the blowjob started on the screen, I started my own porn scene on the couch. I got on my knees between his legs and took the head of his cock in my mouth. It was satisfying to hear him groan with such pleasure. He was hard as steel and oozing precome like crazy. I used his wetness as well as some of my own to slide my hand up and down his slick length while I bobbed my head.

His hands were in my hair, helping to push my mouth up and down on him. I couldn’t deep-throat him then, but with a little practice I would. I wanted to make certain I would. I licked up and down his length and took him as deep as I could. When I looked up at his face, he looked like he was in heaven.

“That’s it, Charlie,” he moaned. “Oh yeah, suck me off, baby.” And I did. I sucked him so good, he erupted in my mouth, filling me to overflowing with his cream. I swallowed as much of it as I could handle, and the rest dribbled down my chin. I was a mess, but Miles loved it. He said I looked better than any porn flick.

Miles and I never did see the rest of the porn flick. We headed back upstairs to the bedroom—to get better acquainted and talk about him staying with me for a while.

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